#shout out to the amazing Alice at

[brynns-travel-blog]

[esouliie]

AN ANGEL FLUNG OUT OF SPACE

(natasha romanoff x fem! reader)

– synopsis | falling in love with your childhood bestfriend might have been one of the best yet scariest things to happen to you. but what happened in the summer of ‘97? what happened to your darling natalia?

– warnings | little fluff & a lot of angst, kind of au (no avengers), child abuse, mentions of: attempted suicide, self harm, body mutilation, burn marks, severe malnourishment (18+)

– notes | this was supposed to be a oneshot but, as usual, i spiralled out of control and now it has two chapters… potentially three? merci, mon alice, for the header @wandasgf ♡

[ word count: 4.4k ] Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

JULY 1992

The sun had begun to set and yet the warmth of the day still lingered. The glow of the street lamps cast an amber hue on the pavement, outlining the familiar houses that lined the quiet street. The air was filled with the scent of summer, a blend of fresh grass and the distant fragrance of blooming flowers. In one of the houses on the street, a family gathered in their backyard for a summer evening barbecue. The smell of sizzling burgers and sweet barbecue sauce wafted through the air, and the faint laughter of children chasing each other echoed, while the adults lounged and swapped stories.

Meanwhile, across the field, two girls were beneath the sprawling branches of a willow tree. A patchwork quilt, covering a section of flattened grass, held a tea set long forgotten as they had rounded the thick trunk, the littlest one already perched on the wooden swing.

“Push me higher, Natty!” You exclaimed, voice full of glee. You were only a small girl with wild hair and a toothy grin, but your spirit was boundless.

Natalia smiled brightly, her own eyes sparkling with joy at her friend's excitement. “You’re already so high you could see the Empire State Building.” She teased, her laughter blending with the sound of chirping crickets amongst the long grass in the distance.

“I know!” The wind whipped against your face, and you couldn’t help but let out a joyous laugh.

Inseparable since Natalia moved in next door, your friendship blossomed under the protective branches of the willow tree across the street, where a swing hung proudly in the breeze. Its gentle leaves whispered secrets that only the two of you could hear, dreams of the future etched upon its bark, as unadulterated laughter rang true with its sway.

She whistled as your head swung back, the carefree spirit of the summer evening enveloping her in its warm embrace. And as she gazed up at the tree’s opening, she found twinkling stars above and the imaginary distant silhouette of the Empire State Building visible on the horizon. She couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the vastness of the world she had yet to see.

"Whoa, this is amazing." You shouted, feeling your stomach drop with each swoop. "Let’s swing all the way to the moon!"

“Maybe not the moon,” She pushed harder, her hands gripping the thick plank of wood beneath you, “But let’s try for the stars."

You shouted with as much euphemism as your little body could handle as the swing reached its peak. Weightless under its motion, you were suspended between the sky and the ground.

 An angel flung out of space.

 "I can almost touch the stars!"

She smiled. Despite her hands being rubbed red raw from rope burn, she was happy. She was always happy to be with you. While she had her younger sister, Yelena, whom she cared for deeply, it wasn't the same as having you. A friendship of her own creation. She yearned for the summer days when she could run around like a child with you.

“That’s good, that means you’re almost home, little star.” She shouted, her accent slipping out ever so subtly.

Carefully, your hand stretched toward the night sky – a poor attempt to touch the boiling balls of gas above.

You both were happy.

It’s sad what became of you both.

All too soon, reality intruded once more. The distant sound of a heavy door opening cut through the air, a gentle reminder that all good things must come to an end. With a final push, Nat stepped back and held onto the plank, commanding it to a halt. She knew what was coming.

At first, you didn’t notice her disappear around the wide trunk. But the gentle clink of pottery against one another told you enough as you followed in her footsteps.

“Natalia,” You whined, hands on your waist at the sight of the older girl cleaning up. “No, it’s your turn to swing.”

A whistle pierced the air, its familiar shrill sound gaining both of your attention. The sound of home time. “Natalia, come. Time to go.” Her mother’s voice carried just as loud, urging the redhead to leave playtime behind.

She turned to you, her expression softening as she looked down at your smaller frame. With a mixture of reluctance and understanding, she pulled you into a tight embrace, the warmth of her arms wrapped around you, the gentle press of her lips against your forehead lingered for a moment before she released you and ran off into the gathering dusk.

Alone now, you watched as the field fell silent, the only sound being of the insects hidden in the dark. The swing on the other side croaked gently in response to the light breeze and the redhead’s swift departure. For a moment, you considered sitting on it, perhaps pushing yourself back and forth on the points of your feet. Instead, you find yourself standing there: the absence of your best friend ever so palpable, a void that sunk deep into your bones.

Without Natalia by your side, the swing held little allure, and you decided to make your way back home. With your large basket in hand, you reached your own doorstep and paused, casting one last glance towards the girl’s house. The lights were on inside, casting a warm glow against the darkness outside.

You almost missed it, but a glimpse of red hair appeared out the window, followed by a hand waving at you. As soon as you waved back, she was gone. Window shut. Curtains drawn.

You went to bed with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.

You’ll see her again tomorrow.

--

AUGUST 1997

“Natalia, stop fighting me on this. You look like a popsicle.” You laughed and shoved the girl playfully from where you were sitting against the willow tree.

“It's cool.” She defended, as her hand tugged at her blue-dyed ends.

The years had rolled by, but the memories of that swing under the willow tree lingered on in your heart. As the seasons changed, so did your life. You made new friends, explored different interests, and navigated the tumultuous journey of adolescence. Being older than you, Natalia was already in high school, but she didn’t go to any in the district, as she was home-schooled and sometimes had to leave for a while. She never really told you why.

Even so, your bond deepened and an unspoken connection developed between you both. Under the tree's comforting shade, you discovered a warmth in your heart that went beyond friendship. Those lazy summer afternoons spent laughing, dreaming, and sharing secrets created a bond that you wanted to explore further.

You’d never felt like this before for anyone.

Only Natalia.

Life as a pre-teen was so confusing.

You snorted, “Yeah, okay, you leave for a month and come back with half of your hair a different colour.”

But it wasn't just the hair colour that captivated you. It was the way she carried herself - a wisdom wise beyond her years. She was the same goofy redhead of course - her eyes sparkled with mischief when she laughed at you, her hand held the same warmth in yours as you walked together. But there was something else lurking beneath, a sadness more notable than her usual melancholy. You noticed the slight furrow in her brow, the way her fingers tapped nervously against each other.

Something was weighing on her mind, something significant. So, you asked, “What’s wrong?”

She let out such a soft sigh that you almost missed it.

“I’m leaving.”

Dread washed over you, and a knot formed in your stomach. "Again?"

She had just returned the other day. Your mind raced with questions and uncertainty and the tears already clustered your lash line. You, a child with no need to mask her emotions, no need to hide her soul, unlike Natalia, who always seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, her laughter always accompanied by a subtle sadness, as if she were trying to conceal her true feelings behind a façade of cheerfulness. But today, as she sat you down with a gentle tug, her eyes betraying a mixture of resolve and sorrow, you sensed that she could no longer hide what she'd been keeping inside.

"It's for good this time," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the ground as if unable to meet your eyes. "My parents want to go back to Russia. They don’t like it here.”

Though unspoken, you sensed the weight of what she meant. They don't like you. It stung, a silent acknowledgement of the barriers you've fallen blind to. The odd glances from her mother, the subtle disapproval from her younger sister—all pieces of a puzzle you've tried to ignore.

Her admission hung heavy in the air, the reality of separation sinking in with each passing moment. She drew closer, her delicate fingers brushing away the tears that cascaded down your cheeks. You lifted your gaze to meet hers, noticing the weariness etched into her features, the telltale signs of tears already shed hours before.

“I’ll miss you.” She whispered, forehead flushed against yours, before leaning down to kiss the corner of your lips. An almost kiss. One of many shared underneath the cover of the willow tree.

You tasted saltiness and noticed the fresh tears that had now sprung from her eyes.

“I'll miss you too. Forever.”

The next morning, you stood outside her house, as the sun cast long shadows over their lawn. It was your last full day together so you arrived bright and early, not wanting to waste any time. You reached out to knock on the door, but your hand hovered, hesitant. The house remained still, as if holding its breath, waiting for something that would never come. You glanced around, searching for any sign of life, but the windows stared back at you blankly, revealing nothing but darkness within.

“Natty?”

 Nothing.

A sinking feeling gnawed at your stomach as you realized they must've left in the night, slipping away like shadows fleeing from the dawn. The same way they joined this neighbourhood.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the empty house, feeling as if a piece of your soul had been torn away with their departure. The world already seemed colder, lonelier, devoid of her warmth and laughter that once filled it.

In the days that followed, you found yourself drawn to the tree – yours and Natalia’s safe haven. You sat there, surrounded by memories, as the rope swayed in the wind - empty and forlorn. Though still magical, the willow tree could no longer shield you from the loneliness that settled in your heart, as the summer months stretched on endlessly, a blur of empty hours filled with longing and regret.

That night, you slept with a permanent frown, a puddle of tears staining your pillow.

You won’t see her again tomorrow.

--

APRIL 2001

From afar, she looked different. Almost unrecognisable.

Eighteen years old and she was here: barely an adult yet taller and slimmer, with a cascade of auburn curls framing her face that replaced the short blue hair you remembered. The years had engraved themselves onto her, carving the once-round face into a pointed visage that spoke of both experience and loss.

Just as beautiful as you remembered.

You sat on the swing under the tree with a book in hand, lost in its pages until light danced between the branches and a flicker of movement caught your attention. Glancing up, you froze as you saw her across the street.

Natalia?

Your heart quickened its pace, memories flooding back in a torrent. But this woman was different. She’d changed. She’d grown.

She noticed you too, her gaze locking onto yours for a moment. There's a flicker of recognition, a spark of something in those eyes. For a heartbeat, it feels like time hasn't passed, like you're still the same two little girls taking on the world together. But then, just as quickly as the connection formed, she averted her gaze, choosing instead to continue on her journey. She walked with purpose, footsteps marching in a steady rhythm that both connected and distanced her from you. She couldn’t get caught up with you. She had a job to do.

Realising she was going to walk away, you pushed yourself off the swing, a mix of hope and nerves swirling inside you as you discarded the book somewhere in the grass.

None of that mattered. Natalia was here. She was back.

“Hey, wait!” You shouted, practically running after her. You reached out to grab her wrist, but she jerked away, shoving you back a few steps with surprising force.

Up close, the difference was unquestionable.

The once soft and kind Natalia had evolved into a hardened version of herself, sharpened by strong fists. Her eyes once filled with innocence, now harbour shadows of pain and resilience. She exuded an aura of toughness, and a guarded silence had replaced the laughter that used to be a melody in her voice.

“Natalia? What are you doing here?” You inquired, tentatively closing the gap between you both. You watched as she winced at her name falling from your lips.

And yet, this time, she didn’t evade your touch. Her hand trembled slightly as it met yours, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. In that fleeting silence, you took in the toll life has taken on her. Her arms bear the marks of countless scars, remnants of battles fought in shadows, and bruises of varying hues.

“What happened to your arms?” Your voice is gentle, a soft inquiry borne out of concern.

But, the sudden confrontation had her retreating into herself, defences rising once more like impenetrable walls. You mustn’t know. She could never do that to you. “Let go.” She demanded sharply, her tone cutting through the air like a knife.

Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, but that’s long enough for her to decide to rip her hand out of yours, sharp and abrupt.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched her practically flee, disappearing around the corner of the street.

 You don’t follow her.

--

OCTOBER 2012

Funny how throughout life, fate seemed to play a game with you, pulling Natalia in and out of your orbit like a cosmic dance.

At twenty-seven, you found yourself entrenched in the fast-paced world of trauma nursing. After the arduous journey through medical school, you packed your bags and set your sights on the East Coast. New York City welcomed you with open arms, its vibrant chaos becoming the backdrop to your new life. From your boss’s office window, the silhouette of the Empire State Building stood tall, a symbol of strength amidst the chaos below.

You thrived in this environment, relishing in the opportunity to connect with and assist people in their most vulnerable moments. The adrenaline rush of the emergency room, the delicate balance between life and death—it fuelled you in ways nothing else could. Not since that summer night. Not since you tried to touch the stars.

Today, however, the hospital was enveloped in an air of secrecy and quiet urgency. Paramedics had rushed in with a new patient a few hours ago, shrouded in mystery as they were rushed straight into surgery. Usually, you're first on-site with incoming patients but you had been busy working your rounds to be able to assist, and there were enough on the trauma team – with the security clearance - to handle such a situation.

Stopping by the bedside of your oldest patient, Mrs. Dinton, you smiled sweetly. “Hey, Mrs Dinton. How are we today?”

"Ah, there you are, dearie," she said, her voice crackling with age. "I was just telling Nurse Molly here about the delightful hospital pudding they serve on Wednesdays. It's simply divine, don't you think?"

You chuckled softly, waving a hello to your colleague. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a fan, Mrs. Dinton. But I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it."

She laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. "Oh, well, means more for me then."

Before you could continue the conversation – could reprimand the elderly woman about how she needs to watch her sugar intake - Dr. Cho appeared at your side, her expression serious. "Excuse me, ladies. But, Nurse Y/N, is needed elsewhere." She says kindly but with a hint of urgency, no room for questioning. You and Dr. Cho were great friends, having graduated med school together and now working at the same hospital.

“What is it, Helen?” You asked, following her footsteps out the ward, navigating the labyrinthine hallways of the hospital.

“I’ve been assigned postoperative care for the Jane Doe and I want you with me...” Your heart dropped at the mention of the mystery woman.

All day, the hushed tones and covert glances exchanged among your colleagues hinted at the gravity of the situation. Their whispers that followed you through the hospital corridors spoke of a failed suicide attempt. While the hospital had sadly seen its share of such cases, this one was different – a Jane Doe, requiring an unusual degree of privacy.

“…while I don’t know any more than you about what happened, I trust you the most to help me with her. So I got you clearance. Go grab us a pair of gloves, I’ll meet you inside.” Helen finished with a nod before entering the private wing.

You donned your own pair of latex and made your way back to the private wing, the click of your shoes echoing down the corridor. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and concern. The weight of the unknown pressed upon you as you approached the room where the troubled soul awaited treatment. Few years being a trauma nurse, you had seen it all… but not a Jane Doe. Never a Jane Doe.

Upon entering, you found Helen already studying the patient's chart. The subdued lighting in the room cast a sombre mood, and the machines hummed softly in the background. The Jane Doe was laid on the hospital bed, head secured in a neck brace and a tube down her throat, a silent testament to the ordeal she had endured.

“Thanks,” Helen whispered, making her way over to retrieve her gloves. "I've gone through everything in the notes. The attempt was pretty severe."

You nodded, taking in the gravity of the situation. The silence was broken only by the soft beeping of the monitors as you both began your work. Each movement was deliberate, and each procedure executed with precision and empathy. You adjusted the IV drip, checked the vital signs, and made sure everything was in order.

Sometime later, Helen had left, her pager going off as her presence was needed with another incoming patient.  The room seemed to hold its breath, but it was only you. The machine to your right, making sure the woman was still breathing.

You read over her notes once more.

“Female, 5’7…” You ramble aimlessly to no one as you find yourself unable to voice the rest.

The laceration on her neck caught your attention. The wound stretched across her delicate skin, a jagged seam where the surgeons' skilled hands had meticulously stitched the deep gash closed. The edges of the cut were puckered slightly, evidence of the trauma dealt with by the knife paramedics found next to her unconscious body. Judging by the shape, it seemed like she plunged rather than sliced, the offending weapon, then, pulled out instead of left inside. She was quite malnourished, her cheeks hollowed out, collarbone visible as the gown drowned her thin figure. She lacked a sufficient amount of muscle. You wondered how someone could go unnoticed without eating for several days. It was as if she had become a ghost, fading away in plain sight.

The woman looked ill - eyes sunken with abnormally pale skin. Drifting down her body, you noticed her legs. A horrified gasp threatened to leave your lips.  Raised red lines covered the expanse of her legs, some scabbed up, some clear burn marks that had turned into blisters. Her arms were just as bad, marred with a history of wounds that ran from her wrists to her shoulders.

Behind all the equipment, her face was almost unrecognisable. Her hair was what stood out the most, the auburn curls matted with blood. A sense of familiarity washed over you, the red striking your curiosity.

You couldn't tear your gaze away as you watched her stir. Unsure if she was waking or simply moving unconsciously, you remained still, not wanting to startle her. But then her face contorted with pain, and her lashes began to flutter open.

The sheets rustled as she tried to turn, her discomfort evident from the way she struggled against the tubes and wires tethering her to the medical machinery. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her, lying there in such a vulnerable state. No identity. No family to be there for her.

"Stay still, please.” You whispered softly, stepping closer to her bedside. “You're in the hospital. You’re safe."

Her eyes, clouded with pain and confusion, met yours for a fleeting moment before flickering away. She seemed to be trying to process where she was and what had happened.

“Paramedics found you unconscious and rushed you in.” You explained gently, hoping to offer some semblance of clarity amidst the chaos of her thoughts. “You had a wound to the neck. We’ve managed to close it, so don’t move around too much. Otherwise, you might open the stitches.”

Her gaze drifted back to you, and for a moment there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes. It was fleeting, gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You saw as she went to speak, only to find pain and a heavy weight against her tongue. “Careful. You shouldn’t try to speak yet. We’re not sure how much damage has been done to your vocal cords.”

As if she didn’t hear you, she continued fidgeting, fighting against the intrusion in her mouth, panic overriding.

“Hey, listen to me,” you coaxed, voice soft but firm, your hand reaching out to settle over hers, the glove long forgotten. “I need you to calm down, please. You’re going to be okay. You just need to rest your voice.”

Her eyes darted to you, wide with fear and frustration, and you squeezed her hand gently, offering what little comfort you could.

“It’s going to be alright, just take slow breaths. Focus on that.” You started to breathe deeply, deliberately, hoping she'd follow your lead. Inhale... exhale... in a steady rhythm, like waves lapping against the shore

As you continued to focus on stabilising her breathing, your eyes inadvertently met hers, and in that moment, you were drawn into the depths of those vibrant green orbs. They held a world of pain, swirling like a tempestuous storm beneath the surface. Yet, amidst the turmoil, there's a glimmer of familiarity that tugged at the corners of your memory.

There’s something about her you can’t make sense of.

 Why does she look so familiar? Who is she?

“Do I know you?” You almost asked, but then suddenly, the door to the waiting room clicked open, and Helen strode in, her expression wavering as she noticed the woman awake. “She’s awake already?!” Shock and bewilderment visible on her face.

She advanced, quickly spewing off questions in your direction, as her eyes narrowed in on the woman, assessing her condition with a quick, practised glance.

"She's awake, a little panicked about being in a hospital, but also a bit disoriented," you explained, voice calm despite the urgency of the situation. "Vitals are stable for now.”

With that, you stepped away, dropping her hand you had forgotten you were still holding, as Helen went to introduce herself. Your lunch break was coming up and before you could turn to leave the room, Helen stopped you. "Thank you for staying with her," she said softly, "There was a car accident. Two little girls rushed in for surgery. They needed me."

You nodded in understanding. You couldn’t fault her. Every day seemed to bring a new challenge, a new story, and today was no different. This Jane Doe was no different.

Before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, she interrupted, “Anyways, I’m here now and pager is off,” she drew your attention to the device in her pocket, “Boss’s order...  now go take your lunch break.”

With a small smile, you left the room, the door softly closing behind you. Walking down the hallways, your mind buzzed with curiosity about the woman. Her face – those eyes - nagged at the edges of your memory, like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Where do I know you from, Jane Doe?

[burnednotburied]

Chapter 5: The Aquarium

AO3 Link | Masterlist

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas; sorry (but not that sorry) to any Owen fans, but he’s kinda a huge asshole in this

Note: I added chapter titles and finally figured out exactly where I’m going with this story lol. Hooray for having a plan!!

(Sorry it took more than two weeks to get this chapter out! End-of-semester craziness, ya know? I hope this chapter being like twice as long as usual makes up for it!)

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Abby realized too late that she probably should’ve warned you about the life-sized whales on the ceiling.

By the look on your face, she could tell you’ve never seen anything like it.

Which made sense. She hadn’t either before she and Owen found this place three years ago.

She paused to watch you for just a second, taking in your amazed expression as you marveled at the enormous hanging sea creatures above you.

Abby could easily remember what her first time here was like. How incredible and other-worldly this place felt. She imagined it must be even more overwhelming for you, this fractured piece of a world you were not a part of and knew little about. A world where humans built a place where they could go to look at fish for no reason other than that it was entertaining. A world where people did things just for fun.

Of course, Abby had also never been a part of that world, but at least she knew about it. She’d caught glimpses of it, carefully and intentionally gathering bits and pieces. She watched films and documentaries. She read novels and history books, newspapers and magazines if she could find them.

Knowledge was power. And, to Abby, having power was important. Having power meant being able to keep the people she cared about safe.

And if you had enough power, no one could ever take it away from you.

So she dedicated herself to becoming powerful, both of mind and of body. It’s all she had known and cared about since she lost her dad.

It’s why she lost Owen.

She still wasn’t sure if that had been a good thing or a bad thing, but she knew she felt guilty about it.

Three years ago, Owen had quickly claimed the aquarium as his own. He cleaned it up, made it feel as homey as possible, and spent as much time here as he could get away with. Abby didn’t tell anyone, not even the rest of the Salt Lake crew. It was right around the time they were breaking up. She felt like she owed him her discretion at the very least. Not that it really made up for anything.

Yesterday morning, when Nora told Abby that Owen was missing, she assumed he’d come here.

God, she hoped she was right.

Abby shifted the injured Yara in her arms, her muscles burning from carrying the girl for so long.

It was early in the morning now. The sun had just begun to rise as the four of you had been making your way into the aquarium.

“Owen!” she shouted, leading the way down one of the hallways off the main entrance. Abby thought he would most likely be out on the boat, either sleeping or continuing in his never-ending attempts to get the thing in working order.

“Owen!” she called out again. “Owen! Are you here?”

She paused for a moment, listening. Nothing.

“Owen—”

“I’m here.” She heard his voice just before he rounded the corner, stopping short when he saw the whole group of you. “Are those Scars?” he asked, genuinely surprised and definitely confused as hell.

Abby ignored the question. “I need whatever medical supplies you have.”

Before Owen could respond, Alice came barreling around the corner, barking aggressively at the perceived enemies.

The next few seconds were chaotic to say the least.

You screamed and jumped back. Lev reacted quickly, his bow drawn and an arrow notched.

“Alice, no!” Abby yelled out.

Owen grabbed for the German Shepherd, holding her back as she continued to lunge forward, trying to attack.

“Put the bow down! It’s okay!” Abby shouted.

Owen gripped the dog’s harness tightly. “Put that down!”

“Alice, shut up! Lev, put the bow down!”

“Alice, stop—Abby, what the fuck?!”

“Lev, listen to them! Put it down!” you insisted, putting a hand on his shoulder as you tried to push him behind you.

All of this happened simultaneously, muffled by the sound of deafening, echoing barking.

“Alice!” a new voice, one that Abby knew belonged to Mel, shouted. To her, the dog listened, sitting down obediently with one final bark.

Mel stood next to Owen and Alice, staring.

There was a moment of silence.

Abby turned to the young boy. “Lev, lower the bow. It’s okay.”

Reluctantly, he listened.

“Abby, who are these people?” Mel asked.

“They saved my life,” she said, hoping that would be enough of an answer for now. “Can you take a look at her?” Abby looked down at Yara, who seemed to be barely conscious in her arms.

Mel dropped a hand on Alice’s head, instructing her to stay, as she slowly stepped closer, eyeing you and Lev cautiously.

“This is Yara,” Abby said before nodding over to the kid at her right, “That’s Lev. And that’s—” She stopped short. She wasn’t about to introduce you to them as Prophet.

Behind her, you spoke, offering up your name. Abby and Lev’s eyes both swung to you, widening for two entirely different reasons.

Abby’s because she was hearing your name for the first time. It was your name. It was like she discovered a brand new piece to this puzzle she had been frantically trying to assemble since the moment she saw you.

She wasn’t sure why Lev looked shocked, but it seemed like a big deal, for you to use your name in place of the title that had been forced upon you by the other Scars.

Abby quietly repeated the name, committing it to memory.

Mel gave a small nod, unaware of the mini revelation that was happening right in front of her, instead focusing on Yara with a concerned look on her face.

“What did this?” she asked, looking down at the girl’s mangled arm.

“A hammer,” you said, stepping forward until you were standing right next to Abby.

“It wasn’t me,” Abby quickly added. Guilty, despite her innocence. She was ashamed that she needed to make that clarification. Worried about what you would think about it.  

Mel hesitated, regarding each of the Scars one by one again before sighing. “Alright. Let’s lay her down.”

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The pregnant woman—clearly someone Abby knew but wasn’t exactly friendly with—decided that Yara had compartment syndrome, which apparently meant they would have to cut her arm off.

While everyone else argued about the best way to accomplish that task, you stood off to the side, feeling sick. If you had been able to stop Emily’s men last night, this wouldn’t be happening.

It shouldn’t be happening.

Yara was going to lose her arm or die because you failed her.

You were trying not to spiral. Trying to be helpful now. (Too little, too late.) Trying to pay attention to the Wolves’ conversation.

They didn’t have the supplies they needed to perform the amputation safely. Yara didn’t have time to wait the couple days it would take Abby to travel all the way to the hospital and back.

“What if we could get you there in two hours?” Lev asked, hands grasping the metal table where Yara laid in the center of the room. “The Wolf hospital, right? On the west side?”

The man—Owen—stood, interested. “How?”

“The bridges,” you said, realizing what Lev was getting at. All eyes turned to you. “Our people built them. High up.”

Lev nodded. “It’s how we get around the flooding. And… you people.”

After a quiet moment, Abby stepped forward. “Can she handle two hours?”

The woman considered this, her hand comfortingly placed on Yara’s shoulder. “Probably, yeah.”

Abby nodded. “Then make a list of what you need.”

Owen stepped closer, joining the circle the rest of you had formed around Yara. “Wait. Are you serious? Abby, these bridges are used by Scars.”

The fact that he was arguing against the plan frustrated you. Yara didn’t have time for this.

“They only send in small groups at a time,” Lev said.

“You heard that? Small groups.” Abby said, watching as the other woman jotted down the supplies on a loose piece of paper and handed it over.

“This isn’t a joke.” Owen looked only at Abby, trying to catch her eyes. She seemed to be actively avoiding making contact.

Instead, she turned to you and said your name, followed by, “Let’s go.”

You looked up at her, at a loss for words. It was sad that something as simple as hearing your name could have this effect on you, but it had been eight years since you’d heard it… And this was already the second time Abby had said it.

You wanted to turn and walk right out the door with her, happy to follow her anywhere, but reality set it.

“I can’t,” you said. “I don’t know where the hospital is. And I don’t know our bridges well enough to guide you. It will have to be Lev.” It looked like Abby might argue with you, or at least tell you to come with them.

You wanted to. The idea of letting Lev go back out into danger without you made you sick with worry. But, foolish as it may seem, you trusted Abby to look out for him. And you didn’t understand these other Wolves and the strange dynamic at play here. You certainly didn’t trust them to be alone with Yara.

“Someone needs to stay with her,” you said, holding Abby’s gaze.

She nodded, grabbing her backpack off the floor. “Alright. Lev.”

He looked to you, taking your hand in his. The group splitting up must’ve felt wrong to him, too.

Almost on instinct, you did what you had been trained to do. You offered a bit of comfort.

“May She guide you,” you said quietly, giving him a small, encouraging smile as you squeezed his one hand between both of yours.

The words were familiar to you both, a common Seraphite mantra. He reciprocated your tight grasp and finished the line, “May She protect you.”

When you released his hand, he placed it on Yara’s shoulder, as if to tell her goodbye as well. She was unresponsive.

You felt a hand fall on your own shoulder and looked up to find that it was Abby. She nodded her head to the opposite end of the room, impatiently taking your wrist in her hand and leading you over there when you didn’t immediately catch her meaning.

She didn’t let go.

Abby stood close, speaking quietly so that no one else could hear. “We’ll be back as soon as possible. Yara’s going to be fine, okay. And I’ll keep Lev safe.”

You couldn’t help the slight upward curve of your lips. “I know,” you said. “I trust you.”

She blinked, caught off guard, but continued. “I wouldn’t mention the whole you-being-the-Prophet thing to Owen and Mel if I were you.”

“I’m not a prophet,” you deadpanned.

She let out an exasperated breath. “Okay, sure. Well I wouldn’t tell them that the Scars think—”

“Seraphites,” you interjected.

“—Seraphites—Just… you get the point. Don’t mention it, okay?”

“What if they ask questions?”

“Dodge them. Be vague.”

“You don’t trust your friends?” you asked, more serious now.

“No,” Abby said. “Not with you.”

You couldn’t begin to guess what she meant by that.

“I trust them… for the most part.” She glanced at them over your shoulder before meeting your eyes again. “I just don’t know how they would react to that information. It’s not exactly a small thing. I don’t know what they would do with it.”

You looked at her for while longer, then nodded your head. “Okay. I won’t say anything.”

“Abby?” the man’s voice came from behind you.

She let go of your wrist immediately, as if she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

You turned around to find the woman—Mel—and Owen both looking at you like they were witnessing something truly insane, instead of just two people having a conversation.

Lev stood on his own by the door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eager to get moving.

From behind you, you felt Abby’s hand wrap around your wrist again, squeezing lightly and then letting go.

“We’ll be back,” she said, this time at a normal volume. She joined Lev by the door, opening it and leading the way out.

“Abby!” Owen said again, moving to follow them out.

Mel groaned, frustrated. “God! Owen, just let them go.” When he ignored her, she went after him, the door slamming loudly behind her.

You stayed behind with Yara.

She was blinking slowly, barely awake, her shallow breaths too few and far between for your liking. You felt helpless, knowing there wasn’t much you could do other than sit and wait.

You pulled up a chair.

Just outside the door, the two Wolves were arguing. Although, you only caught bits and pieces of it.

Something about Abby and Scars and a cloak… Something about someone who looked like she just stepped out of The Lord of the Rings. You didn’t know what that meant, but it was clear they were talking about you.

Again, you unfastened the cloak and freed yourself of your top layer. Whether that was due to embarrassment or a sudden recognition of the uncomfortable warmth of the room, you couldn’t tell.

“Did you see how she was looking at her?” “Owen, why do you care? Why does it matter to you?” you heard through the door.

The dynamic here was becoming more and more confusing.

You’d assumed that Owen was the father of Mel’s child, just because they seemed to live here together. But that didn’t explain Mel’s rather apparent unfavorable opinion of Abby. And it definitely didn’t explain Owen’s preoccupation with Abby.

Their conversation continued for several minutes, volume rising and falling periodically. There wasn’t much you understood and even less of it seemed important or interesting to you.

Eventually, the door swung open again, making you jump in your seat. Mel reentered the room, offering you a strained smile as she checked on Yara. You quietly watched her work.

“There’s not much we can do for her until Abby and your friend get back,” she said to you, eyes still focused on Yara. “If you want, I can get you set up with a place to sleep while we wait.”

“No,” you said, too quickly to be polite. “…Thank you. I’ll stay with Yara.”

Mel pulled her lips into a tight line and nodded, leaving the room again. She came back a few minutes later with water and a shiny red apple, offering them up for you to take.

“Sorry. I know it’s not much. Owen isn’t well-stocked on food right now,” she said after you’d accepted the snack.

You smiled. “Thank you. You’re very kind to be helping us at all.”

Mel didn’t really answer, instead gesturing to the door as she walked toward it. “Well, we’ll… be around. If you need anything. And I’ll come in and check on her periodically.”

You nodded, quietly thanking her again. The discarded cloak that you’d left on a table by the door caught your eye. “Oh. Wait.”

She turned to face you again, eyebrows raised in question.

“What is The Lord of the Rings?” you asked.

----------------------------------------------------------------

An excursion that was supposed to take two hours ended up taking nearly all day.

But hey, Abby had done the best she could.

She faced her deeply-rooted fear of heights on that sorry excuse for a bridge. She fought off Infected and Scars. She was, let’s say, detained by her fellow WLF soldiers at the hospital. And then she had to fight and kill what must’ve been the biggest, gnarliest, freakiest blob of cordyceps infection to ever exist.

She barely got out of there alive, but she managed to leave with the medical supplies in hand. Plus tons of new material for her future nightmares.

Mel had started operating as soon as they got back to the aquarium, with Owen assisting her.

You and Lev sat just outside the door the entire time.

The surgery had gone well. Yara was doing okay, all things considered.

After, Owen handed Abby a pile of sleeping bags and blankets and walked off without saying a word.

Abby handed them off to you and carefully lifted Yara again, this time to move her to a more comfortable spot to rest. She led the way to the next room, you and Lev trailing behind.

There was a long couch in the new room. You motioned for Lev to lay down on one end while Abby set Yara down on the other.

She stepped back and watched, amused, as you fussed over the two of them for a few minutes, using most of the blankets on your young friends.

When you were sure they were both as comfortable as possible, you left them to rest and walked back over to Abby. In your arms, you held the two sleeping bags that you hadn’t used on the kids.

You offered one of them to her.

She shook her head, motioning to the space on the floor in front of the couch where there was an old, worn-out rug.

“Lay mine out for me? I have to go do something before I go to sleep.”

“You’re leaving?” you asked, looking concerned.

“I just need to talk to Owen. I’ll be right back.”

You studied her face, like you were trying to figure out whether or not she was being truthful.

Abby doubled down, pointing again. “Go. Get some sleep. I’ll be back.”

You sighed but went where she had pointed and began laying out the two sleeping bags.

One for you. One for her. Right next to each other on the floor.

You had been doing a good job of hiding it, but Abby could tell you were exhausted. She couldn’t blame you. Hell, she was exhausted. And the sooner she touched base with Owen, the sooner she could come back.

She turned and went out to track him down.

----------------------------------------------------------------

You didn’t know what was wrong with you.

You had been awake for almost forty-eight hours, but you couldn’t fall asleep. Your mind was racing. Filled with worry for Yara, concern about her condition, guilt for having been unable to prevent the injury from happening in the first place. Thoughts of your own people hunting your friends with the intent to kill them. Fear that, despite your desire to keep them safe, your lack of knowledge and experience in the world outside of Haven would make that impossible.

You thought about the woman you killed yesterday. How she’d so tenderly and earnestly called you her Prophet just moments before you snuck up behind her and ended her life.

You wondered if you too were now an apostate. If the Seraphites had found the bodies of Emily and her men and assumed you were dead, or if they somehow knew that you betrayed them all the very moment you were given the chance.

You wondered if your mother knew what you had done. If she would be punished for your sins.

You thought about Abby, hoping that your faith in her was not misplaced. Hoping that your attraction to her hadn’t clouded your judgment.

This was crazy. All of it. It was too much.

You had tossed everything and everyone you’ve ever known aside, thrown the first twenty years of your life to the wind like it meant nothing at all, and run off into the forest with a Wolf without a second thought. And now that you, Yara, and Lev were finally (seemingly) not in immediate danger, you had time to think things through. Contemplate what you’d done and try to figure out where it left you.

By your own hand, your life had been irreparably changed forever. It was done. There was no undoing it. No going back.

You would stay with Lev and Yara. You would stay with Abby if that’s what she wanted.

But where would you go? It wasn’t safe for any of you to stay here.

That wasn’t a question you could answer. You didn’t know of anywhere else. You wouldn’t know how to find a place that was safe.

All of these thoughts bombarded your mind at once, taking turns at the forefront. Contradicting emotions swirled, adding to the chaos.

There was a sadness, a sense of loss for the people you had always belonged to.

Guilt and shame. Two feelings that were not at all foreign to you, but you had never felt as strongly as you did now.

A lightness. A happiness. Almost a thrill. A hopeful nervousness for the freedom you had claimed for yourself, the agency you had uncovered, and the possibility of what was to come.

Sadness, again, for the mother you would miss, and the realization that you had already been missing her for a very long time.

Frustration—simmering anger—for your childhood that was stolen and the shame that did not originate within yourself. The unrelenting voices that lived in your head, weighing in on every thought and critiquing every action. But those voices were not your own. You would take your dagger and cut their presence from your mind, carefully carving them out of your head and disposing of them yourself if you could.

And, amongst everything else taking up space inside of you, demanding your attention, it felt stupid and frivolous and wasteful, but you couldn’t keep Abby from your thoughts. She kept appearing, in the middle of it all. This was something that you truly did not have time for and should not be putting energy toward.

But you had never felt intrinsically drawn to someone in the way you were drawn to her…

Behind you, you could hear slow, heavy breaths coming from either end of the couch. You were glad that Lev and Yara were getting some rest. You’d do your best to make sure they got their fill of it this time.

You got up quietly, trying not to disturb them but feeling like you needed to move. You shook out your arms, rolled your neck around, wiggled your fingers, stretched your legs.

Honestly, you wanted run. Or hit something. Or scream. Loudly and for a long time. Until you ran out of air and your voice was ragged.

But you didn’t do any of those things.

Instead, you went to look for Abby.

----------------------------------------------------------------

“Seriously? You’re telling me Isaac’s top Scar killer just… turned over a new leaf? Decided to befriend and help three Scars?” Mel was staring into Abby’s soul, her words dripping in disbelief.

Abby had found her and Owen upstairs, in the same room that had once housed the boat man’s skeleton and the couple’s Christmas stockings (not at the same time, of course).

Owen was angry. Exactly what she had done to earn his anger, she couldn’t say. He held a jar of his homemade moonshine. A jar that was somewhere between three-quarters and one half full. Abby assumed it had been filled to the top just a few minutes ago.

He had apparently decided to be a silent, brooding drunk tonight, so Mel had been the one to interrogate her.

Abby tried to explain everything, albeit keeping things pretty vague. She didn’t want to give them too much information about you specifically, and she didn’t want them to get the wrong idea about you, so she made sure to omit the part where you nearly gutted her. And the part where you were the new Scar Prophet that Isaac was after.

Mel wasn’t buying the part where Abby simply had a change of heart.

She shot Owen a cautious look before she said, “Abby, do you—I thought you might—Is it possible that you’re…” Mel stopped, gathering her thoughts, trying to find the best way to word it. “It’s not… like… a problem that she’s a woman. It’s just… it is kind of a big deal that she’s a Scar—”

“Abby isn’t into a fucking Scar,” Owen interjected, his knuckles white around the mouth of the jar. “And she’s not fucking gay.”

Then he started chugging the jar’s contents, forcing down swallow after painful swallow.

The women were both silent for a second, surprised by the anger in his words.

Abby didn’t know what to say. She knew she was into you—and she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t at least part of the reason why she was helping you and your friends—but she had never considered if that made her gay.

She honestly didn’t really care to label herself as anything either way. It felt stupid—in the honest-to-god post-apocalyptic hellscape that they lived in, where they had been engaged in a never-ending war since they were kids—to care about that kind of thing.

Why should it matter—when her family was dead, her friends were constantly in danger, and there were enemies closing in from every angle—if she was romantically or sexually interested in men or women or both? Wasn’t that almost guaranteed to be the least important detail at any given moment? And why should she waste any of her time or energy trying to define herself in that way?

This was all really new to her. She hadn’t really let herself be interested in anyone since Owen, and she honestly wasn’t sure if she had ever been into him for the right reasons. Again, she remembered how uncomfortable it made her feel to kiss him, to be touched by him…

She couldn’t imagine that it would feel like that if you touched her. And just the fact that she hoped one day she’d find out was probably telling enough.

So maybe, in the Old World, people would’ve called Abby a lesbian. Maybe she would’ve identified with that title if things were different, if her life was lower stakes, and if she’d had more time to explore herself and her interests.

What-ifs didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was here now. You were with her—and she needed to figure out a plan of how to proceed from here—so she could make sure to keep it that way.  She could figure out the rest later.

Mel was the first to speak, annoyed, but addressing him calmly, like she was talking to a rabid animal. “Owen—”

He didn’t even let her get a word in.

“No. This is bullshit! Abby—” He looked past Mel to meet Abby’s gaze, insistent. “I’m going to Santa Barbara to find the Fireflies. If you’re smart, you’ll ditch the Scars and come with me.”

Mel slammed her hands on the table, causing both Abby and Owen to jump. “What the hell do you mean, you’re going to Santa Barbara?! We are going to Santa Barbara!” They weren’t used to seeing violent outbursts from Mel. She was the queen of passive aggression, but she rarely lost her cool. “What is wrong with you, Owen? Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? This is all so seriously fucked up.” She turned away from them, clenching her fists at her sides, looking like she might cry. Or hit something. Or both.

But for the first time in years, Abby wasn’t on the receiving end of her disdain.

Guess all she had to do for her old friend to stop seeing her as a threat was get entangled with the Scar Prophet. No big deal.

Owen, in a moment of clarity, seemed to realize how huge of an asshole he was being to the mother of his child. He set down his jar, stood, and walked over to Mel, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her into him, her back pressed against his front. He was swaying on his feet, his cheeks flushed, hands clumsy. If he hadn’t been drunk before, he definitely was now. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. We are going to Santa Barbara. Of course it’s we. Hell, the Scars can come too for all I care. We’ll make it a party.”

Abby rolled her eyes at his quick switch-up and turned to go. Clearly this conversation wasn’t going anywhere productive tonight, with Owen drunk, Mel upset, and all of them exhausted beyond belief.

There was a creak by the door, and all three of them turned to look, Owen’s reaction far more delayed than Abby and Mel’s.

You stood there in your long white dress, hesitant to come in. Shy, having clearly interrupted a tense conversation.

Abby wondered how long you’d been standing there unnoticed. Her instinct was to meet you in the doorway and take you back to bed, away from Owen’s rude drunkenness and Mel’s inquisitive eyes.

“Hey! Scar! How the hell are ya? Come join us! We were just talking about sunny California. Ever been?” Owen pulled away from Mel and plopped back down on the couch, finding his jar again.

“Umm…” You looked to Abby for guidance, but she was just as unsettled as you. “No. I haven’t… Sorry, I was just looking for Abby.”

“Yeah, I bet you were,” he mumbled under his breath. Abby wasn’t sure if you caught that, but she wasn’t interested in having you hear any more of this.

“Let’s just go,” she said to you, moving toward where you still stood in the doorway.

“No! Come! Sit! Let’s talk,” Owen insisted, slapping the spot next to him on the couch.

You gave Abby another hesitant look before walking past her to join Owen. Mel sighed and lowered herself into a nearby chair. When it became clear to her that retreating with you wasn’t an option right now, Abby walked back over. She stood right across from the couch so she could see you, leaned against the wall behind her with her arms crossed over her chest.

You sat next to Owen, although not so close, putting as much distance between you as possible.

“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Abby wanted to punch him.

All of this was out of character for Owen, but she knew that he was always kind of unpredictable when he got drunk. With everything that had happened and emotions running so high, everyone really should just be going to sleep.

With that in mind, Abby would continue to stand nearby until you were ready to leave. She wouldn’t let things get out of hand.

“So… Scar—”

“Seraphite,” Abby corrected him. He scoffed and took another swig.

You smiled softly at her, looking grateful.

“Scar,” he said again. “Can I perhaps interest you in some hooch? Made it myself.” He offered up the jar for you to take, tilting it towards you with unsteady hands.

“No,” Abby immediately answered on your behalf. “She does not want any of your hooch.”

“Well give the girl a chance to answer,” he slurred. “What? Your little girlfriend can’t speak for herself? She can’t make her own decisions?”

You glanced back and forth between him and her, reaching for the open jar of clear liquid, properly baited by his taunting words.

Abby tried to remember that Owen was her friend—her best friend—and that he wasn’t usually like this.

“What is… hooch?” you asked, staring down into the glass jar suspiciously.

“It’s moonshine,” Abby said. When that didn’t clear things up for you, she added, “Alcohol.”

“Like wine?” you asked, tentatively sniffing it.

Owen laughed. Abby nodded, “Kind of, but it’s much stronger. Seriously, you won’t like it.”

There was a flash of something that looked like defiance in your eyes, offense taken at the idea that you wouldn’t be able to handle something that others could.

You put the jar to your lips and tilted it back enough to take in a generous mouthful.

Abby watched as your eyes went wide and you struggled to swallow it. Honestly, she was impressed that you didn’t immediately spit it out. You managed to choke it down before breaking out in a harsh coughing fit.

Owen laughed, accepting the jar as you shoved it back into his hands. Your eyes watered as you tapped on your sternum, taking a second to regain the ability to speak.

“You made that?” you wheezed in disbelief.

“Yep!”

“On purpose?”

Abby laughed at that, leaning back against the wall again once she was convinced that you weren’t dying.

“Hey, that’s prime hooch! You should be thanking me right now.” Owen took his own swig of it, lounging back against the couch with his arm resting along the back.

“Thank you?” You squinted your eyes but tried to be polite.

“I was kidding, princess. You don’t have to thank me.”

Abby, again, resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

“So,” Owen began, “tell me. How is it that you’re a Scar… but you’re not scarred?” He chuckled to himself, as if he had made a joke.

Your eyes shot to meet Abby’s, clearly unprepared to answer that question.

“Not every Seraphite has facial scars,” you said, keeping things vague.

“Every Scar I’ve ever seen does.”

“You’ve seen me, haven’t you?” you shot back.

Abby let out a surprised laugh. Owen clenched his jaw.

“Every Scar has face scars. It’s like your defining thing. It’s why we call you Scars.” He was adamant, unyielding. And the playful mask was starting to slip back into anger. Abby could tell this wasn’t going to end well.

“Well I guess you don’t know as much about Seraphites as you thought you did.” You were frustrated now, pressing yourself further into the far end of the couch to put more distance between the two of you.

Owen opened his mouth with a rebuttal, but Abby jumped in. “Lay off, Owen.”

He threw his hands up in surrender, leaning back against the brown cushions. “Fine, fine. Whatever. Forgive me for having questions. Fuck me, I guess. I’ve just never seen a hot Scar befo—”

Before he could finish the sentence, Mel was on her feet. “Alright. That’s it. You’re done.” She had been sitting silently up until then, ready to intervene if things got out of hand, just as Abby had been. Apparently, Owen calling you hot was where she drew the line.

Abby was glad Mel was saying something. Because if things had gone much further, she really might’ve hit him.

“Get up,” Mel instructed firmly, standing over him. “You’re going to bed.” He let her take the jar out of his hands and, with much effort, pushed himself up off the couch and started walking toward the door. Mel was right behind him, hands hovering on either of his sides in case he lost his balance. He was grumbling under his breath the whole way, like a toddler whose bedtime was being enforced.

Abby watched them go.

Once they were out of sight, she looked down at you, only to find that you were already looking at her.

“Sorry,” she spat out. “About him. He’s not usually like that.”

You nodded, but you didn’t seem sure that you believed her.

“So you guys are… friends?”

Abby cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. We’ve known each other for years. Joined the WLF together. Me, Owen, Mel, and a few others.”

You considered this for a second before responding. “Where were you before?”

“Salt Lake City,” she said, looking down at her feet. “Utah.” Abby didn’t know if that would mean anything to you.

“Mel doesn’t seem to like you very much,” you said, observant, not trying to offend. Abby smiled, despite the meaning behind your words. You added, “And Owen doesn’t seem to like me.” You stated it like it was a fact, like it was neither good nor bad, just true.

“He’ll get over it. He’s just drunk.” Abby didn’t know if that was true, but she wanted to comfort you in that moment, not that you actually seemed to care all that much about Owen’s opinion of you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You were looking up at her, eyes wide and vulnerable.

Anything, Abby thought. Out loud, she said, “Sure.”

She pushed away from the wall and came to sit next to you on the couch, filling the spot where Owen had been.

“Why do you people keep calling me princess?” you asked. Abby laughed quietly under her breath, turning her body to face you.

“I don’t know. There’s something about you that’s very princess-like I guess.”

You made a face at her. She smiled wider.

“It’s not a bad thing. You just come across as soft. Delicate. I don’t know… Graceful.”

“I am not delicate,” you said, defensive.

“I know.”

“I’ve killed.”

“I saw.” Abby was being serious, although she did find the conversation amusing. “You’re very skilled with a knife.”

You nodded, satisfied with her response, and fully turned to face Abby. “And what does hot mean? Why did he call me hot?”

“Oh—” Abby stuttered, “Uh—He meant… He was saying that you’re very pretty.”

“Oh.” You considered this, eyes wandering away. “Earlier he said I look like The Lord of the Rings.”

Abby smiled again. There was something about you that felt like it might’ve been taken straight from the high fantasy genre.

“Do you know what that is?” she asked.

“Yes. Sort of. I asked Mel. She said it was a film about a magical land. With fairies and stuff.”

“They were books first.”

“Have you read them?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you read a lot of books?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I try to read as much as I can. Whatever’s available.”

You nodded, thinking, letting the conversation die down.

After a moment, “Abby?”

“Hmm?” she hummed. She liked the way you said her name. Just the sound of it made her heart beat a little bit faster.

“Owen also called me your girlfriend.” You were studying her face, trying to read her reaction.

“Yeah. He did.” Abby said, looking into your inquisitive eyes.

“Does that just mean friend? Or is it something else?”

“He was just trying to piss me off.”

“So it does mean something else?” Your eyes were on her lips now, and you were ever so slightly leaned forward. Almost subconsciously.

“It doesn’t matter,” Abby said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

She was pushing you away, and she didn’t know why. She could’ve answered that question so differently. Maybe she should’ve.

Abby wanted you. And she was almost certain that you felt the same way. At the very least, there was a curiosity. A hesitant attraction.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong. That anything with you would be something she wasn’t good enough for.

Something she didn’t deserve.

Something she would ruin if given the chance.

So tonight, she didn’t give herself that chance.

Was that noble or cowardly? She wasn’t sure.

You pulled away, turning to face forward as you let out a long breath, puffing out your cheeks.

“I’m tired,” you said, standing. “And I should check on Yara and Lev.”

“Yeah.” Abby nodded. “Okay.”

She remained in place, ready to mentally beat herself up some more and stew in her thoughts alone for a while.

You cleared your throat lightly, swaying on your feet. “Umm… I’m not sure that I can find my way back to the room. Can you… please—?”

“Oh.” Abby hopped to her feet. “Okay, yeah. I’ll… I guess I’ll go with you.”

She avoided eye contact, leading the way into the dark hallway.

[daddy-dins-girl]

Playdate - Chapter Ten

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 7.4k

Chapter Summary: Of all the ways you managed to dream up in your head about seeing Dave again, this was never how you would have imagined it actually playing out.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. (SPOILERS IN THE TAGS!) Angst. Alcohol consumption. Brief violence and mentions of blood. Dave's feelings deserve their own warning 🫠. Dave's idiocy also deserves its own warning (we're working on him okay?). Dave gets a little pushy/forceful/needy with Reader but there's no actual threat or non-con, but figured I should mention it (you are held against a wall at one point but never physically hurt or threatened). Mentioned smut (including sex toys, anal play, light bondage, etc.).

HUGE thank you to @janaispunk for beta'ing and just being amazing in general 💜

Notes: This chapter starts off with Dave's POV and switches to Reader, I just figured we could use a little insight into Dave.

~ DAVE ~

Knelt down on one knee on the lawn of his ex-wife’s house, Dave could give a shit about the wet grass stain he could feel seeping into the denim of his jeans as he wrapped his arms a little tighter around both his girls, giving them one final goodbye hug. He pulls back slightly, frowning when he sees their wet faces staring back at him. He has to swallow the hard lump in his throat to hold back his own tears that want to fall so he can be strong for them so instead he plasters on the best smile he can manage and brings both hands up to ruffle the hair on both their heads.

“Don’t be sad Angels, I’ll see you again in two weeks okay?” he assures them and they both slowly nod their heads. He knew it would be hard dropping them off today after having them for the entire summer, not only for them but for him as well. It was going to be difficult to go from seeing them every day back to once every two weeks. Not to mention he was now saying goodbye to the only distraction in his life that was holding him together these past couple of months.

“I miss you already Daddy,” his youngest, Alice pouts before her chubby little arms wrap around his neck once more and squeeze. Dave lets out a little chuckle and hugs her back tightly before pressing a kiss into her hair.

“I miss you too, babies,” he sighs.

“Why don’t you girls go inside and wash up now,” his ex-wife Carol finally speaks up from up on the porch at the front door. “Dinner’s almost ready. Steve’s making your favorite,” she announces and both girls' faces light up like kids at Christmas as they finally pull away from their father.

“Sketti and meatballs!” Alice shouts excitedly.

“Bye Daddy,” his oldest, Molly, says one final time, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she takes her younger sister by the hand and leads her up the porch steps and they disappear into the house.

“Said the magic words huh?” Dave chuckles, standing up to his feet and dusting off his jeans.

“Sketti and meatballs” Carol shrugs, a fond smile on her lips. “You look good,” she says after a moment. “Better than the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah, well…” Dave trails off, not wanting to get into why he came to her all but desperate a couple of months ago to let him take their children for an extended summer vacation. “Thanks again, I had a really great time with them.”

“Of course,” she nods. “Did you want to stay for dinner? I’m sure Steve made enough to feed an army. God knows I love him but that man can’t measure pasta to save his life,” she jokes of her new husband and Dave lets out a small chuckle but shakes his head.

“I should probably get going, let you guys have your family dinner.”

“Ok well… the usual time then? Two Saturdays from now?” she asks and Dave nods.

“I’ll be here.”

“Okay. And Dave?” she says just as he turns to head back to the driveway.

“Yeah?” he answers, turning back to face her.

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Sure,” he smiles, unconvincing even to himself before he heads down the driveway and gets into his car.

He hadn’t been very candid with her about why he suddenly needed to “get away” and wanted to take his kids on an impromptu summer vacation, but she read him like a book anyway. “What’s her name?” is all she’d asked when he’d shown up on her doorstep a couple of months ago looking tired and distracted. “Doesn’t matter” he’d carelessly shrugged back, not meeting her gaze. Carol had pursed her lips and hummed her agreement but otherwise didn’t push. She knew better. Dave wasn’t exactly one for expressing his feelings, even when they’d been married.

The weeks that follow since bringing his kids back to their mother seem to pass by in a blur as he throws himself full force back into his work, even working on the weekends that he’s not with his kids, mostly as a distraction rather than a necessity. He doesn’t want to be reminded of what his Saturday nights used to be, before. And despite his ex-wife’s wishes he knows he’s not taking proper care of himself. He’s working too much, drinking too much (apart from the days when he has his children of course) and certainly not eating enough. He feels pathetic. Like some lovesick puppy and it’s definitely not a feeling he’s used to. Hell, he didn’t even feel like this when he got divorced or when his now ex-wife got remarried. He bought them a damn wedding present and danced with his daughters standing on his feet at the reception hall. Not that he was thrilled to be a divorced Dad or anything, but he couldn’t argue with Carol when she told him he wasn’t giving her enough of himself. He did feel like shit for months after the separation but after a while it faded and he was able to carve out a new life for himself and he was fine. Happy might have been a stretch, but he was existing just fine.

He of course hadn’t expected you and your husband to turn up barely a year later and turn his whole life upside for several months. It had started out as just fun. Blowing off steam, getting his dick wet, he was far from complaining about any of it. He loved how obedient you both were to him immediately, filling a void in him that he hadn’t engaged in nearly as much as he wanted to. Sure he’d had some rough fucks in his day but that was different than what he had with you. Having a partner - partners - that you built a trust with just brought everything to a new, heightened level and that, well, he hadn’t quite experienced before. But along with trust, of course other feelings start to emerge, feelings Dave had long since given up on expecting to have at this point in his life. And having these feelings for a fucking already married couple did not help his situation any. It was a mistake, he realizes in hindsight, spending your birthday with you both. An entire weekend wrapped up with you, spending the night together, waking up together, having meals together, it was… well, for Dave, it was everything. Everything he never even knew he was looking for and of fucking course he had to find it with two people who already had each other.

And now? Now what the fuck was he doing? Drowning his sorrows in the bottom of a bottle of overpriced bourbon at a bar, by himself, on a Friday night. Just like he’s found himself the past countless Friday nights, hoping he’d wake up the next morning and be able to forget about the two people who had apparently taken up permanent residence in the tight cavity of his chest, refusing to be let go.

He was fucking pathetic. And probably needed to get laid, too. That was one thing he could surely do something about easily enough. He’s been coming to this same bar every Friday night for a month now and one cute waitress in particular never seemed to stray very far from his table and he wasn’t that great of a tipper. He’d barely managed a second glance in her direction his past few visits but maybe tonight he should change that. The drinking wasn’t enough of a distraction anymore and this week was his off-week from seeing his kids so he didn’t have that to keep himself occupied either.

Mind made up he signals the waitress over to his table - whatever her name was. She’d told him probably a dozen times but fuck if he could remember it. It didn’t matter, after tonight he doesn’t plan on seeing her again and he’ll make sure she understands that before he actually leaves with her. For now, what’s the harm in a little fun? A decent pair of tits and a tight pussy is all he needs to get his head back on straight he thinks. And judging by the way the waitress basically comes bouncing over to him the moment he waves her over, it isn’t going to be much of a challenge. The only challenge for Dave will be when he closes his eyes as he sinks inside her, hoping, praying that it’s no longer the image of you that’s emblazoned on the backs of his eyelids.

~ YOU ~

It’s been nearly four months since your birthday. Since you last saw him.

In the time since that first weekend after Dave had disappeared from your lives, you and Marcus had found your rhythm again. Your lives are back to normal and, realistically, maybe even better than they’ve ever been. You were communicating so much more now and your physical relationship (which, you’d never had much of an issue with to begin with) was definitely thriving. Due to the increased communication, the two of you were always not only willing, but eager to talk more while in bed about anything you were particularly craving and put in the effort together for each other. It had really started the night Marcus had taken charge (a week after your birthday) and fully blossomed from there. There was one Sunday morning back a few months ago where the two of you laid in bed together with your laptop in front of you and were online shopping for fun new sex toys you both might enjoy. You filled your cart without judgment or shame and Marcus hastily typed in his credit card information when you were done browsing. The moment you heard the ‘swish’ of the order confirmation being sent, Marcus snapped the laptop closed, tossed it to the far corner of the bed and then all but pounced on you.

Early on when the two of you were still navigating your post-Dave waters Marcus had even asked you if you still wanted someone else in your lives. The role Dave was meant to (and had initially) played, you assume he meant (before it had gone and gotten complicated). You could tell by the way he asked you, his voice unsure and hesitant sounding, that it wasn’t something he wanted. And in all honesty, you didn’t want it anymore either and you were quick to assure him of that. Not only was Marcus indulging and fulfilling anything you desired, but whoever it was, they’d never be Dave anyway. It didn’t have to be said out loud that he was the only extra piece you’d both ever want in your marriage, you both knew it already.

Sunday mornings seemed to be when you’d find yourself thinking of and missing Dave the most, when you’d look around your bedroom in the aftermath of what your Saturday night had been. Saturday nights had become your routinely scheduled evenings where you and Marcus would get extra adventurous in bed, typically breaking in more of your new toys you’d purchased and just letting loose and taking out all your stresses of the week on one another.

One particular Sunday morning you remember lying next to Marcus who had just opened his beautiful sleepy eyes and you brushed his hair back from his forehead and then let out a little giggle followed by a sad sigh when your gaze caught site of the black fuzzy handcuffs that were still looped around one of the spokes in the headboard.

“He would’ve loved to see you like that,” you murmur, eyebrow raised playfully and you actually see Marcus’ ears turn pink and he bashfully hides his face in the pillow for a quick moment and laughs.

“You think so?”

“I know so baby. God you were so hot, at my mercy like that.”

Your blood begins to run hot just thinking about it again now. How he’d submitted to you. He’d laid down on his stomach, arms stretched above his head where you’d cuffed him to the bed and then you sat back on his thighs, massaging his ass with one hand while the other prepared the lube and the plug that the two of you had picked out together on your impromptu online shopping adventure a couple of weeks earlier in the other. It was the first time he’d ever let you do anything like that to him, though you’d discussed it a few times beforehand, and you were both pleasantly surprised how hot you found it.

You’d slowly fed him the plug, all the while gently rubbing his back with your free hand, soothing him and telling him how well he was doing for you. You still can’t erase from memory the way your breath hitched when he replied in a low, quivering voice, “yeah, I’m being a good boy?” God, the way the arousal instantly flooded you it was a miracle you were able to continue what you were doing and not abandon it all together to take care of yourself.

“Fuck, you’re such a good boy,” you assured him, hand leaving his back to smoothing across the globes of his ass instead

Once you’d gotten it all the way inside and ensured he was comfortable you’d began to slowly maneuver it partially out and then back in, over and over again until it got to feeling so good for him that you’d gotten off his legs and let him get up on his knees when he’d begged you to let him fuck you.

You slid underneath his body, never uncuffing him, wriggling up the bed until you were face to face and left the plug seated deep in his ass as you helped guide his leaking tip to your entrance and he pushed inside. His hands were able to grip the spokes in the headboard so he had some leverage while still held captive in his position and he railed into you deep and hard, moaning like you’d never heard him before for the entire time, like he was on an entirely different plane of pleasure he hadn’t yet experienced.

Afterwards when you both lay spent and chests heaving with exhaustion you’d uncuffed him, gently removed the plug and gathered him in your arms, letting him cling to you with his head resting on your chest. You kissed and played with his hair, murmuring into the top of his head what a good boy he was for you and he just held you tighter until you’d both fallen asleep.

You loved your playful, risque and experimental Saturday nights, but you also loved the quieter, more intimate times as well. You loved waking up on a Sunday morning and lazily making love for hours, refusing to leave the comfort of your marital bed for most of the day. You loved weeknights sprawled out on the sofa relaxing after dinner and watching TV when you’d start necking like teenagers until he’d shove your pants down and slip inside of you, fucking you slow and deep until you both came and then he’d carry you up the stairs to bed. You loved nights when you were both too exhausted from your work days to do much of anything but still wanted to be close so you’d make out a little until he got hard and he would push inside your warm heat and then just wrap his arms around you and hold you until you’d both fall asleep with him inside you.

At the end of the day, well and truly, this had been what you both had wanted, originally. Dave was meant to come in, spice up your love life a little bit, teach you both a couple of things and then leave you to your lives with your newfound sexual knowledge. He’d done that, and yet, there was no denying that you still felt like a piece was just missing now.

A Dave York shaped piece.

You didn’t like to bring him up often to each other anymore. All it did was cause sadness for you both. You’d talked a lot early on and had eventually both admitted out loud your feelings you had for Dave but now there was no use bringing up his name anymore. He was gone and you had to accept it. It didn’t mean you couldn’t miss him, because oh, you missed him. All the time. But there was no use dwelling on something you had no control over, you had to move on. And you had, for the most part.

Or so you thought, until one Friday evening when your work colleagues managed to drag you out with them to a bar and there in the flesh, across the room of the dimly lit tavern, sat the one and only Dave fucking York.

You’d nearly spilled your drink on yourself when your head had turned and you saw him in your peripheral. He looked handsome as ever, wearing dark jeans and a white button up shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, top couple of buttons undone showing a teasing amount of perfect sun-kissed skin. Wherever his “emergency sabbatical” took him, it was apparently somewhere spent mostly outdoors in the sun you presume. His face looked a little thinner as well, his features more sharp and refined and you have to wonder if he’s been hitting the gym a lot more recently.

The only thing, frankly, that didn’t look good on him right now was the tiny blonde currently seated in his lap holding up a tray of shots you assume were meant for another table before Dave had intervened when something pretty caught his eye. You could practically feel your blood boiling at the sight before you, those deft fingers that knew your body all too well pulling and teasing at the belt loops of the tiny denim shorts the waitress was wearing while she threw her head back in laughter at something he’d said, eating up whatever attention he was willing to give her and you can’t say you blamed the girl. When the sly, sexy grin crossed his lips and he buried his face in her hair to undoubtedly whisper something absolutely filthy next to her ear and you saw her bite her lip in response, it felt like a hard slap across the face and everything happening around you instantly turned to white noise as you focused all your attention on the man across the room who, far as you could tell, hadn’t noticed you yet.

Before you do anything you quickly dig into your purse hanging on your chair for your phone and send a text to Marcus letting him know that Dave is here. His reply of ‘holy shit’ comes back near instantly but before you have a chance to type anything further you hear a loud voice bellowing from behind you for service, waiting for their shots apparently, and the tiny blonde regretfully starts to peel herself off of Dave’s lap to attend to her duties. Unfortunately Dave’s eyeline drifts to where the voice comes from, which you happen to be right in the cross hairs of. You see the tiniest flicker of shock etch across his features before his carefully crafted mask slips perfectly back into place and he gives you a small shit-eating grin that you wish you had the courage to slap right off of him. Eyes not leaving yours he simply picks up his beer and pulls another sip from it before he reaches out, grabs the hand of the waitress about to walk away and tugs her back into his lap, wrapping a possessive arm around her. His gaze never leaves you, even as his head tilts down to press his lips to the girl's shoulder.

Asshole.

Tears well in your eyes before you can stop them. He’s being a prick on purpose and you simply hate him in this moment. Dave York was a lot of things, but you’d never known him to be mean. Until now.

Not able to look at him another second you hastily push back from the table, your chair screeching across the hardwood loud enough to stop the idle chit-chat amongst your table of coworkers as they all stop to stare at you, having no clue what’s going on.

“I’ll be right back, just… need some air,” you explain curtly, not offering anything further or waiting for anyone to offer to accompany you.

You vaguely hear one of them calling your name questioningly as you stand up from the table and storm off towards the exit, passing Dave who’s now downing the entire tray of shots like they’re water.

Good, drink yourself half to death, you fucking idiot.

When the cool evening air hits you the moment you step outside it's like a brief reprieve and you take a deep breath, tears freely spilling down your cheeks now that you hastily try wiping away with the back of your hand. There’s a small crowd standing outside the front doors smoking cigarettes and vape pens but the chatter amongst them halts to a dead silence when the door slams shut behind you in your haste to get outside. Not in the mood for any onlookers, you quickly head off in the opposite direction and take the left turn down the alley at the side of the building for some privacy until you can catch your breath and, god willing, get your body to stop trembling. You realize too that you’d left your purse and your phone inside and you can’t possibly go back in there right now, not like this.

“Fuck,” you sigh into the desolate alley, stopping to lean your back against the cool brick and hanging your head, burying your face in your hands. The emotions of it all, of seeing him again, hits you like a ton of bricks and you let out a loud sob, your legs practically buckling from underneath you causing you to slide down the wall and squat down, elbows resting on your knees and face still buried in your hands as the now quieter sobs continue to rack your body.

You’re feeling just about every emotion under the sun right now and they’re all pouring out of you at once. You’re angry, jealous, sad, irritated, but maybe worst of all you’re reminded of just how fucking badly you still miss him. How badly you weren’t over him. And you hate yourself for it.

“Gotta light?”

That voice… of course you recognize it the second you hear it, even with his words slightly slurred and your face practically buried between your knees, and of course he had to follow you out here. The moment your head raises to look at his smug smirk with the cigarette dangling between his perfect lips you scowl, quickly rising to your feet and taking the two short strides over to where he stands in the middle of the alley and you snatch white stick from his mouth and immediately snap it in two, tossing it carelessly to the ground between you.

“Hey!” Dave barks at you, his voice sharp and loud as it echoes off the walls of the tight alleyway.

As if he has any right to be the one pissed off right now.

“Oh you don’t even smoke,” you argue back immediately, not in any type of mood to be taking shit from this man.

“I’m a social smoker,” he shrugs and you doubt even that’s the truth, he just wanted a reason to follow after you.

“You’re an asshole,” you bite back, not missing a beat.

He scoffs. “Somebody’s in a mood. Maybe you need that cigarette more than I do.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

He’s on you before the last syllable even leaves your lips, both his large hands on your shoulders shoving you backwards until your back hits the wall and he’s crowding your space, leaving barely an inch of space between your two bodies that are now breathing heavily with adrenaline. You can smell the alcohol on him and you know he’s had a lot to drink. If you weren’t half buzzed already you could probably get there just by the smell wafting off of him.

“Think you’d rather I fuck you, hmm? That where all this attitude is coming from Baby?”

His hips force yours further into the unforgiving brick behind you as his hands leave your shoulders to grip your waist instead and you can feel the hard outline of his obvious desire pressing against you. You bite your lip to suppress the moan that’s begging to escape your throat but it slips through anyway; barely registering but he hears it. Of course he does. You can see the way the corner of his lip turns upward into a sly grin.

“There’s my girl.”

“I’m not your anything! You fucking left Dave. You left!” You raise your hands up to shove hard at his chest but he’s like an immovable wall.

“I know.”

His voice is suddenly soft, dare you say, remorseful sounding. You hate how your resolve and anger instantly starts to wane the moment he lets his guard down even the slightest bit.

“I know,” he repeats it again, softer, quieter, his forehead coming down to rest against yours where he slightly shakes his head back and forth. One hand lets go of the grip on your waist and he gently rubs the back of his knuckles up and down the top of your arm, just a barely-there touch that’s already causing goosebumps to raise on your flesh.

“What do you want?” you ask, trying to sound stronger than what you know you’re actually capable of right now. “Why did you follow me out here?”

“I want what you want”. His voice is suddenly at your ear and an involuntary shiver runs through your entire body. “Come home with me,” he tries, his voice slurring just slightly and you roll your eyes and attempt to put space between the two of you again. This time he’s not expecting it and you do manage to push him back a few inches and he wobbles on his feet.

“A drunk fuck so you can disappear again the minute it’s over, you think that’s what I want?” You’re practically screaming at him now, but you don’t care, he deserves it.

“C’mon,” he huffs, sounding annoyed as he quickly crowds your space once more, this time he manages to grab your hands and hoist them above your head, pressing them into the wall so you can’t push him off you again. “One last time for old times sake, huh? Let me fuck this attitude right out of you”

“I’m married, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Hasn’t exactly stopped us before,” he smirks and then lowers his face down so he can nuzzle into you, his nose grazing your ear and his smooth cheek brushing against yours and for a moment you feel yourself melting into his soft touch.

Your voice lacks the conviction you know it should when you rasp out a quiet "Dave, stop”. You won’t go home with him, you know you won’t. You’d never hurt Marcus like that (again), but the smell of his familiar cologne on his shirt collar, the way his warm skin feels pressed against yours and how your body seemingly just fits into the contours of his own you can’t find it in you to immediately try and push him away again either. It’s been so long, you want to just feel him. Just for a moment.

“Kiss me,” he tries, voice suddenly at your ear before he moves just slightly until his lips hover on yours. He doesn’t force it on you, waiting for you to make that final move and close the distance between you. It takes everything in you, but you manage to turn your face away and you hear his desolate sigh in response, hot breath fanning your cheek.

“Take a hint buddy,” a deep voice suddenly interrupts and both your heads snap to the side where you see an enormous man standing at the opening of the alley, an unlit cigarette between his lips. He must be a good six inches shorter than Dave but easily has over 100lbs on him. He’s a very wide, stocky man with a long ponytail and a studded leather vest over top of a faded t-shirt and covered in tattoos, looking like he belongs in some type of biker gang. You immediately recognize him as the man from earlier who tried to summon the waitress from Dave.

He fishes a lighter from his pocket and brings the flame up to light the cigarette and takes a long drag before breathing a large cloud of smoke out.

“She’s not interested,” he repeats when Dave doesn’t loosen his hold on you. “And you’re paying for those six shots by the way, prick.”

“What, you think she’s saving herself for you?” Dave laughs, incredulous. His hands suddenly leave yours, allowing your arms to drop down to your sides and he takes a step back from you, fully turning towards the man who’s now taken a few tentative steps into the alley. Dave reaches a hand into his back pocket fishing out his wallet. He pulls what looks to be a fifty from the bill fold, scrunches it up to a ball and throws it in the direction of the man standing in front of him before closing his wallet and returning it to his pants.

“There, now fuck off.”

“What’s your problem man?” The bystander asks, flicking his cigarette away and taking two long strides forward, the fifty note left crumpled and forgotten on the ground.

“My problem? My problem is fucking assholes who can’t mind their own business. Go fuck off and get your micro dick sucked somewhere else.”

Your brow furrows as you listen to Dave seemingly intentionally picking a fight with this complete stranger. This was not the calm, cool, collected Dave that you’re used to.

You didn’t like whoever this Dave was.

“Wanna try saying that to my face, shithead?” The shorter man challenges, taking another step towards Dave.

“Dave, just leave it,” you try but he waves a flippant hand at you, not even bothering to look in your direction.

“How bout I get you a stepstool and you say it to mine, small fry.”

“Don’t need a stool to lay you out right here on the pavement,” he challenges right back, taking yet another step closer until they’re just inches apart, the shorter man apparently not intimidated whatsoever and likely rather comfortable in a fight, you assume. What he doesn’t know, however, and what you do, is Dave’s extensive military training. Even drunk you have no doubt he could easily kill this man and barely break a sweat, if he wanted to.

“Leave it alone Dave, c’mon, I mean it!” You try again but you might as well be talking to the wall behind you, as neither of the men are paying you any attention any longer. Ironic, since you’re half the reason the fight started in the first place. Men.

“Tell you what,” Dave begins, voice smug. “First one’s free,” he finishes, raising his arms up in the air, defenseless.

Before you even have a chance to plead with them once more the other man swings, clocking Dave right in the gut that has him doubling over for a few brief seconds before he quickly rights himself again, and, to your astonishment, starts laughing.

“That it?” Dave laughs, back to his full height again. “C’mon, again,” he goads.

This time the stranger's fist connects with Dave’s face, causing his head to swing left with the impact he puts behind it. You quickly scramble over to Dave who lets out another chuckle as he wipes the blood from his lip with the back of his hand and turns back to face his foe.

“Pussy,” Dave taunts before spitting blood to the ground at the man's feet. “Why don’t we call the waitress out from inside, she probably hits harder than you do.”

“Dave!”

You watch it happening like it’s in slow motion, how the man grabs Dave’s head with both hands and smashes it into the brick wall and Dave, for whatever reason, doesn’t even fight it. It makes you think of those videos you had to watch in Drivers Ed as a teenager, how the drunk driver in the scenario is typically the one to survive a collision because their response time is so slow their body just lets go and goes with the flow rather than bracing for impact. The part that really tears you up inside though is you don’t even think it’s the alcohol, you think he’s doing it on purpose, wanting to get hurt. You hear the loud smack as his forehead hits the brick and you instantly surge forward, taking the brunt of his weight as he collapses into you and you both slowly slide down to the ground with him in your arms because you can’t hold his weight.

“Get up, you piece of shit!” the stranger yells, furious, and you scream, covering Dave’s body with your own where he lays in your lap as the man winds up to kick Dave while he’s down.

“Enough!” A third man’s voice shouts and relief floods your whole system as you recognize it’s Marcus. In a flash he’s crossing the alley, grabbing the stranger by his shirt and shoving him into the brick and holding him there. Marcus was definitely ‘a lover not a fighter’, but he could certainly hold his own when it came down to it if need be. You’re not scared any longer.

“You alright Honey?” he asks, quickly chancing a glance over to where you’re kneeled on the ground with Dave’s head in your lap, surveying the laceration above his eyebrow.

The man in Marcus’ grasp looks at the two of you confused, then when he notices Marcus’ wedding ring where his fists are cuffed in his shirt, his eyes widen in disbelief.

“Holy shit, is this your wife? I just did you a favour pal,” he scoffs, lightly shoving at Marcus and Marcus backs off just slightly, letting go but staying close in case the man wants to go at Dave again who’s practically unconscious at this point.

“Look it's fine just… go back inside please,” Marcus huffs before he turns back to you and frowns. “Think we can get him up?”

Between the two of you and Dave’s slight cooperation (as much as he can manage with not only how intoxicated he is but how he surely just got few screws knocked loose thanks to that brick wall) you manage to get him up and he looks around a little disoriented, shaking his head while you and Marcus flank either side of him and hold him up.

“Marcus? You’re here,” Dave slurs and then turns his entire body into him and practically collapses into his arms in what you think was meant to be a hug. Marcus manages to hold Dave upright, both his arms holding under Dave’s armpits to keep him on his feet.

“I’m here,” Marcus croaks out. “I’ve got you.”

“The fuck?” the stranger mutters, shaking his head as he watches what must surely be a very strange reaction to a husband finding another man hitting on his wife in a dark alley. “Good luck with… well, all of that pal,” he says with a wave of his hand in the direction of the three of you before he turns on his heel, bends down to pick up the discarded fifty and heads back out of the alley and presumably back toward the bar.

“I’m drunk,” Dave suddenly breaks the silence, pushing back slightly from Marcus and wavering on his feet. His brows furrow in confusion and he wipes at his forehead. When his hand comes into his eyeline and he sees blood smeared on it, his features scrunch up again. “And I think I hit my head?”

“It’s ok, do you think you can help us get you to the car? It’s close,” Marcus tries to explain to Dave who manages a small nod. You get behind Dave and lift one of his arms up and turn him slightly, draping his arm over your shoulders as you move with him to stand at his side, Marcus now holding up the other. Thankfully Marcus had hastily just parked the car in a loading zone directly in front of the bar after you failed to answer any of his texts or calls so the walk was quick and you managed to get Dave shoved into the front passenger seat. You quickly run back inside to grab your purse and phone and say a quick goodnight to your coworkers and then hurry back out to the car. Dave mumbles off his address once Marcus slides into the driver’s seat and Marcus gives a non-commital grunt of acknowledgement before he pulls away from the curb and drives away. Barely two minutes later Dave’s head is tilted all the way back into the headrest and he’s passed out. You lean forward from the backseat to address Marcus.

“We can’t take him home like that. What if he has a concussion or something?”

“I’m not taking him home” Marcus quickly responds, shaking his head.

With a satisfied sigh you lean back into your seat.

What a fucking disaster.

Barely ten minutes later Marcus pulls into your driveway, hitting the button clipped to the sun visor to open the garage. The last thing he needs is for his neighbors to see the two of you dragging a bloodied half unconscious man into your home in the middle of the night.

You only manage to get him as far as the couch on the main floor, an upstairs bedroom too harrowing of a feat to attempt you presume with Dave’s inability to offer much of his own assistance. With a loud grunt you manage to drop him down to a seated position on the sofa and he immediately falls back into the soft cushions.

“Stay with him, I’ll get some water and something for his head,” Marcus says and you nod your head.

He’s only gone a minute or so, taking a little longer because he couldn’t find the Aspirin bottle right away, but when he returns with two extra strength tablets and a full glass of water he stops in his tracks just inside the living room.

Dave is flopped on his side, face resting on your lap facing where Marcus stands while your hands delicately card through his hair.

He’s murmuring quiet little ramblings with his eyes closed, something about “fucked up” and “so sorry” and you just gently hush him, running your fingers through his sweat damp hair.

“We need to clean him up” you tell Marcus when you notice him standing there. There’s blood still smeared across his forehead but thankfully not very much, he hadn’t been actively bleeding for very long. At least you know he doesn’t require any stitches.

Marcus sighs and crosses the room, getting down on his haunches in front of the couch in Dave’s direct eye line.

“Hey Buddy,” he tries softly. “Need you to sit up for me, have some water and take these.”

Dave grunts, noncommittally, but ultimately does try and push himself up. You both help until he’s back into a seated position and Marcus hands him the two white tablets. Dave stares at them for several seconds before tossing them back into his throat and swallowing without water. You tisk at him and shove the water glass into his hand.

“Drink,” you order. He does. He finishes near the entire glass in one go and your eyes widen in surprise.

“There,” he sighs, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Can I go now?”

You’re so frustrated you could smack him. One second he’s being a total asshole, the next he’s trying to kiss you, then he’s purposely getting the shit beat out of him, then practically crying in your lap, and now he’s back to being obstinate again.

He was right about one thing. He is fucked up. And you don’t think it’s just the booze.

“I’m sorry, no,” you shake your head, trying to sound less angry than you feel. The last thing you need is to pick another fight with this unpredictable man right now. “Baby, you’re bleeding”

The endearment slips out completely by accident. You don’t even notice you’ve said it but both Dave and Marcus do, their widened gazes turning to you at the exact same moment.

“Dave,” you quickly try to correct, shaking your head.

He lets out a little snort and nods his head, like he’s willing to let you get away with your little slip up.

“You hit your head really hard, you can’t be alone tonight. If you can make it upstairs you can have the guest room, if not, we can make up the couch. In the morning you’re free to go, I promise.”

“Fine,” he relents, shoulders dropping.

“Think you can help us get you upstairs?” you ask and he nods his head. Both you and Marcus throw one of his arms around your shoulders and help him up, taking each of the steps up the staircase slowly. Dave seems to be somewhat coming out of his fog and much more helpful this time, thankfully. You’re pretty sure it’s just the alcohol working against him now, his brain mostly cleared from the fog of the head trauma. Once you reach the top of the stairs you go to turn towards the guest room but Dave plants his feet and attempts to twist his body away from it, toward the direction he knows your and Marcus’ master bedroom is instead. You and Marcus both share a look behind Dave’s back where you’re holding him and after a moment Marcus gives you one solitary nod, acquiescing to Dave's wishes.

Once inside the room you unravel yourself from Dave as Marcus sits down on the edge of the mattress, bringing Dave with him to sit next to him. You head off to the bathroom to wet a washcloth and come back into the room to gently wipe away the blood and dirt at Dave’s forehead.

“What the fuck were you thinking,” you mutter as you clean him up best you can, shaking your head slightly. He doesn’t answer and you don’t expect him to, nor do you really even want him to in his condition. He needs to sleep it off, maybe you’ll get some clarity in the morning.

Once he’s cleaned up Marcus lifts Dave’s arm off of him and puts it into his lap. He isn’t sure what to do next so he leaves Dave there and wanders off to the bathroom to find you where you’re rinsing off the washcloth in the sink.

“What do we do with him?” he asks quietly.

“Well… honestly it’s probably better we’re in the same room anyway, that way if something happens in the middle of the night we’re there,” you reason and Marcus nods.

“Ok…” he sighs, following after you as you exit the bathroom and flick off its light.

You stop just outside the bathroom when you see Dave passed out in the middle of your bed, all his clothes - including his shoes - still on and you sigh.

“I got it,” Marcus says, going to the end of the bed and untying the laces of Dave’s shoes before placing them on the ground. That’s all you undress of him though, he’ll be fine sleeping in the rest of his clothes. Marcus was already in sweats and a t-shirt but you were still in work clothes so go over to your dresser and fish out a pair of pajamas and quickly change. Once you’re ready for bed you turn out the lights and both you and Marcus crawl in on either side of Dave. You can’t help but reach a hand out and brush it through his hair as his light snores fill the quiet, darkened room.

Fuck, you really missed him.

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[frankcastleonlyfans]

part two of dad!daemon headcanon pleaseeee 😭

𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄, 𝐏𝐓𝟐:

pairing: dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. i hope you like it!

warnings: fluff, daemon being an awesome dad, more fluff, just pure fluff.

    · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

It's been five years since you gave birth to your last child.

You and Daemon had a beautiful baby girl, that he decided to name Viserra.

Since her birth, Daemon became even more protective towards you and the children.

He knew his brother wasn't going to live many more years, and Alicent was showing herself to be a threat on the council.

You tried not to worry too much, and also to keep him calm.

Daemon spends most of his days teaching sword fighting to his sons — and daughter.

Alyssa always wanted to play with your husband’s legendary sword, Darksister.

On her fifteenth name day celebration, he gave her her own.

"Valyrian steel..." She whispered, her eyes were full of emotion. "Father, I don't know what to say"

"All legendary swords have names. The conqueror had Blackfyre, I have Darksister, your brother Rhaegon named his Devour. What's yours called?"

Alyssa being your husband's daughter, you couldn't think of a different answer;

"Doombringer."

Daemon couldn't be more proud of his little knight to be.

But he was also worried about her.

Alyssa finally became of age, and Daemon's brother, King Viserys, thought it would be the best for the house of the dragon to marry one of his sons to her.

Of course it wouldn't be with the second heir to the throne. Aegon was already married to his sister, Helaena.

And, Daeron was in Oldtown, so certainly it wouldn't be to him either.

"What did you say to him?" You asked your husband.

"I said, I'm not marrying my little girl to that psychopath one-eyed son of his!"

"Daemon!"

"What? I don't care if he exiles me for the hundredth time, my daughter is not going to marry that freak! The kid killed cats for fun when he was 12, Y/N!"

And like a good father, he didn't mind making her company.

Fortunately, he could enjoy his youngest daughter as she remained the only child between his teens.

Viserra was curious and a fast learner.

Daemon usually took her for walks on the dragonpit to see Caraxes, but never to rides, because she wasn't fond of heights.

She liked to learn about the dragons but not to be on top of one.

She also loved when Daemon talked to her in high valyrian.

"Do you wanna know something interesting?" He said playfully and she nodded, "The valyrian word for "love" and "need" are the same."

"Really?" She gasped.

"Really." He chuckled, "For example, jorrāelagon ao. Now, what did I say?"

"Love you."

"Yes, but so is "need you". The phrases are the same."

"Jorrāelagon ao" She repeated, hugging Daemon's huge torso.

He loved his girls more than anything, but he'd always remember to pay some attention to his boys too.

At the age of 18, Rhaegon spent most of his time on the westerosi skies, riding his dragon, Araxes.

Daemon not only taught his sons sword fighting, but gladly showed them his amazing riding skills.

With the help of his father, Maegon finally found a dragon for himself. He claimed Seasmoke after Laenor's passing.

Both boys shared their father's adventurous spirit, and they loved to be on the air.

"I bet Aemond couldn't do this with that old burden of his!" Shouted Rhaegon, exhibiting his riding tricks.

"Vhagar can't even put herself in the air without falling to pieces!" Maegon mocked.

"She's so old that she saw Aemond's hair and thought it was Visenya taking her to conquer Dorne!" Daemon laughed.

His kids were his joy.

a/n: check out part 3 here

[xetlynn]

Twilight- The Switch of Daylight: Chapter Nine, Hot and Cold

(Alice x Reader x Jasper)

Eight | Nine | Ten

Days have passed since I've seen Sam. Weirdly I feel like I need to be cautious around him now.

Bella noticed how short I've been with everyone, like I'm in the room with everyone but mentally I'm far... far away. She's been trying to convince me to go to the Rez with her to help her and Jacob fix up the bikes she got from the neighbor. Well she secretly got them. Charlie doesn't know.

I've declined every single time but for some reason today I feel like I just need a reason to get out of the house. "You really want to come?" Bella smiles at me as I pull on my leather jacket that I haven't worn in a while. "Yes, don't make me change my mind." I point a finger at her, causing her to chuckle. Leading us out of the house, she convinced me to drive my bike with her on the back. Something I wasn't entirely sure on doing but she's my older sister. I have to have some sort of respect in her "seniority." Even if it's only a 10 and a half month difference.

I give her my helmet since she's still human. When I take off I feel her grip my waist and I laugh to myself. "It's not funny, you have to warn someone before you do that!" She shouts over the sound of the wind hitting us. "It wouldn't have been as funny!" I admit to her, I feel her jab my side. She mumbles a "whatever," I speed up, getting closer to the rez.

We get to the garage that Bella directed me to. She trusted me to hear everything even though she couldn't herself. I park in a quick motion, letting Bella off and give me my helmet back. "Woah, I get the privilege of having both Swan sisters with me today?" Jacob teases as he pokes his body out from the garage. "Yeah, don't get too excited." I tell him, following Bella inside after putting my kickstand up, making sure it doesn't slide in the dirt. He puts his hands up in defense, we go over to the two bikes that look pretty good.

"You guys are doing fucking amazing." I comment, admiring the bikes. "Thank you, thank you." Jacob does a tiny bow, his hair slightly getting in his face. Then I remember things Sam said about him. About how he could be next turning into a wolf. My face scrimmages at the thought. About the fact that me being here could also be the reason he would turn into one.

"Earth to [Name]." The two wave in my face, shaking me out of my thoughts. I smile at them. "Yes?"

The rest of the day, they show me what they've been doing, showing how I can help as well. Quil and Embry pass by a few times. I watch how they all mess with Bella. How happy she looks compared to how she was just weeks ago. The nightmares also seem to be calming down. The slightest bit.

The next day I decide to join them again. We end up staying later than what we did yesterday. "Quil keeps asking to come over. I think he likes you a little too much." Jacob suddenly speaks up as we were walking to her truck. I'm not leaving with her, I have some things I need to do but I just want to make sure she gets home safe.

"Tell him I'm not into the cougar thing." Bella half-heartedly tells him. "What is it with you and age? I mean that Cullen guy was young, didn't seem to... bother you." You can tell he instantly regrets his choice of words, especially mentioning Edward. I notice her spirits shift. "Alright, we'll see you tomorrow Jacob!" I jump in, patting his back as Bella forces a smile.

"Goodnight Jake." She waves to him and gets in her truck. We watch as she drives off.

"I can't believe I said that." He curses at himself, kicking the dirt once her truck is out of sight. "It's okay, she knows you didn't mean anything by it." I rub his back, he flinches away from my touch out of shock.

"Dude, your hand is hot." He hisses. My eyebrows furrow.

"Hot?" I try to feel it myself but it's just the normal ice cold feeling it's always had since I turned.

"Yeah, are you running a fever or something?" He comes up to me, touching my forehead but when he does he tilts his head. "Now you're cold. What the heck?" He flips his hand over a few times, feeling my forehead. I laugh, shoving him away. "I think you're going crazy." I ruffle his hair to piss him off, and like usual it does. "Hey, that's messed up." He goes to fix it as I snicker.

"I gotta speak with your dad, I'll talk to you later." I punch his shoulder, jogging towards his house. I glance back to see him still fixing his hair, heading towards the garage.

My hand was hot? Maybe it was just so cold it felt hot? I open the front door to Billy's house, his head turns my way and he raises a brow.

"What can I do you for, [Name]? You got more questions?" He doesn't move his wheelchair my way so I take it as a sign to go over to him. "Not exactly? Do I feel hot to you?" I ask him, putting my hand in front of him.

I watch him as he takes a deep breath, slowly going to grab at my hand. I feel the usual flinch most people do as they feel the coldness of my skin. "No... why do you ask?" He looks up at me, letting go of my hand. "Jacob said my hand was hot when I rubbed his back. Maybe it was just overly cold and confused him?" I lean against the wall. "You're definitely not hot right now." He mutters, staring at the ground. The tv plays in the background. "If it happens again let me know." He tells me. "What does it mean?" I carefully question.

"Nothing good, that's what." He's angry. I start to rub my arms in anxiousness. "I'm sorry." I say, his eyes snap towards me. His eyes soften at the sight of me.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, [Name]. It's just a very unfortunate circumstance for you." He makes eye contact with me and I can tell he's mentally apologizing.

That night, Bella had another nightmare. Charlie and I rush up from our spots in the house. Her screams fill our ears, Charlie turns the light on, both of us going to either one of her sides. Gently shaking her. Her eyes open, tears streaming down her face. I help her sit up, sitting on the bed with her. She's told me the coldness I have soothes her when she wakes up. As if I'm him when she feels my hand on her arm.

Charlie hands her the glass of water, she takes a drink of it and I watch him pull the dream catcher from her bedpost.

"This thing's not working very well." He grunts. "It's... not as bad as it was." Bella whispers. "Yeah right. I know what it's like, you know. When your mom left me. I had a hell of a time. Imagined doing all kinds of crazy things, just to stop the pain." He admits to her, Bella avoids his look. She curls into my touch, I hold her a little tighter.

"But hanging out with Jacob seems to help get your mind off things." He states, more questionably though. "He's been keeping me afloat." She agrees. "That's good. He's a good guy." Charlie hypes him up, I roll my eyes while smirking, knowing it would give the kid a bigger ego.

He leaves the room and I go to do the same but Bella tugs on my arm. "Please stay with me." She pleads, I nod, plopping back down on the bed.

"I'm sorry for using you as a body pillow." She mumbles, cuddling into my side. It reminds me of when we were kids. Even though she's older I always was holding her. Protecting her. Our dynamic switching when certain things happen. "It's okay. It's better than being alone. The night time is the worst." I share with her. "I'm sorry." Is all she says before she closes her eyes, falling back asleep.

"We got lucky at the dump. You know how much a new crankshaft goes for?" Jacob informs us as Bella drives along the La Push cliffs. I'm in the middle as Jacob sits by the window, he studies a greasy motorcycle crankshaft. "Sure, I spend all my free time on crankshaft-dot-com." She sarcastically responds. "I think that's a porn site." I speak up, Jacob agrees with me with a laugh.

"These bikes are gonna be rolling soon. Where should we ride first?" He asks Bella, changing the subject. "Someplace sunny." It then clicks in her head that I wouldn't be able to go. "Like there's any place sunny around here." Jacob comments. "Actually I think around here might be good." She falls back on her word.

Then I see Bella look int he distance of the cliff. I glance over to see Sam, Jared, and Paul rough housing. "Isn't that Sam Uley?" She points ahead. "And his cult." Jacob bitterly says. Then two of the guys throw Jared over the cliff, Bella slams on the brakes.

Jumping out of the truck. Jacob and I follow after her. "Oh my god! Stop them!" She runs toward them. Jacob and I burst into laughter, which slows her down.

"They're not really fighting. Bella. They're cliff diving." He assures her. "What, on purpose?" Bella looks over at us.

"Scary as hell, but a total rush." Jacob nods his head. "I did it when I was apart of their supposed cult." I bump Jacob as I walk closer to Bella. We watch Paul take a running start, flinging himself in the air. "Most of us jump from lower down." Jacob bumps me back. "Think I could?" Bella asks us,s till staring at them. My eyes widen. "Man, first motorcycles, now cliff diving?" He questions my sister.

"You said it was a rush."

"Maybe on a warmer day. And not from the top. We'll leave the howling off to Sam and his disciples." Bitterness. We both look at him.

"You don't like them." Bella states. "They think they run this place. Acting all bad ass, calling themselves "protectors." Jacob scoffs, putting his hands in his pockets. "What are they protecting?"

"The tribe, the land, their right to be jerks. Embry used to call them hall monitors on steroids; now look at him." Jacob points at them. Bella and I look closer to see Embry, now with short hair.

Another turned... my face falls. "That's Embry? I didn't recognize him. What happened to him?" Bella looks back at him. "He missed some school- then out of nowhere. He's following Sam around. Same thing happened with Paul and Jared. They weren't even friends, now Sam owns them. Sam keeps giving me this look, like he's waiting for me or something. It's kinda freaking me out." Jacob tells us, well more to Bella. If only he knew what was really happening between them.

"Maybe you should just avoid them." Bella says.

"I try but..." I watch her observe him them hug him reassuringly. "Hey. If it gets worse, we'll go to my Dad. Or you can come stay with us." She looks at him, then he glances over to me and I nod, agreeing with her.

"Thanks." He holds onto her. "If this is how you're going to react, I'll freak out more often." He smirks, ruining the moment for Bella.

She playfully shoves him. I then look over to the cliff again. Sam is already directly staring at us.

Once he makes eye contact with me though he dives over the edge.

Masterlist

A&J M.L.

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[starkdirewolflove]

House of the Dragon

Alicent gets a visit from Larys (thank fuck no more foot stuff) and he notices the moon tea and starts a chat about Ser Criston. He knows about their affair but hasn’t leveraged it yet but Alicent seems so done with everything.

Jace confronts Rhaenyra about her scolding him in front of the council and that all he wants is to serve her and protect her claim. She consoles him and tells him about the prophecy of the song of ice and fire while Rhaenys readies her dragon for battle and a drunk Aegon does the same with Sunfyre.

On to the Battle of Rook’s Rest and Cole’s plan is revealed. He was expecting Rhaenyra to send one of her dragon riders and he had Aemond and Vhagar hidden in the forest to strike when given the signal. Rhaenys and Meleys decimate Cole’s army but then Aegon arrives on Sunfyre. Gwanye shouts at Cole that his brilliant plan is to have the king himself enter the battle and risk his life. Aemond hangs back deliberately knowing Aegon will fail in his attack. Cole rallies the troops in Aegon’s name to attack.

Finally seeing the dragons in action was amazing Rhaenys and Meleys were destroying Aegon and Sunfyre then Aemond appeared with Vhagar and Aegon thought he was saved but Aemond attacked them both with Aegon taking the most damage and crashing into the trees. Cole goes after the king but when Meleys wounds Vhagar she crashed into the battlefield doing more harm than good and knocking Cole out.

Oh Rhaenys you could’ve retreated but chose to try and take Vhagar alone you brave fool. While she was scouting the battlefield for Vhagar, she and Aemond caught her by surprise as she was flying over Rook’s Rest. Vhagar had Meleys by the neck and bit almost clean in half. We get a slow motion fall of Rhaenys accepting her death then that smug prick Aemond flying off.

When Cole comes to he goes looking for Aegon while seeing the aftermath of a dragon attack. Like a soldier sitting upright but burned to ashes in his armour and crumbling to dust at a touch. He see Aemond approaching Sunfyre with his sword drawn and shouts out (no doubt thinking he was gonna finish his brother off). Aemond picks up Aegon’s dagger and keeps it for himself then walks away while Cole stares on in horror at Sunfyre’s mangled body and Aegon lying beside him. We don’t see the extent of Aegon’s injuries but he won’t be up and about any time soon. I wonder if Cole is starting to see what a monster he helped create in Aemond and is regretting his life choices.

That battle was epic, can’t wait to see more dragon battles even though it means losing more of Team Black.

Corlys will be raging about Rhaenys dying and someone is going to have to hold Baela back from going after Aemond herself.

[f4ll-for-you]

Complicated | Modern Aegon

This is dedicated to my ANGEL @valeskafics I hope you enjoy bby💖

Also a HUGE thank you to @arcielee, a writing goddess who helped me with this, you are amazing!!!🫶

Warnings: smut, mentions of drinking, Targaryens being rich snobs

Three months you’d been dating Aegon Targaryen, your best friend's older brother. After a year of pining after you, you’d finally given in and let him take you on a date, which of course, ended up with you in his bed the next morning. It took a month for you to believe he actually cared, given his fuckboy reputation that he needed to uphold. Luckily, you were happy to keep your relationship secret to avoid hurting Helaena's feelings, she didn't get along with her brother, and if she knew you were dating him you were sure she would feel betrayed. 

However, that was only the tip of the iceberg with Aegon's family. Rich, well connected, always throwing fancy dinner parties, nothing like the life you’d experienced growing up. To earn extra cash while at university, you’d often waitress at the parties, tending to Aegon's family and friends whilst they looked down on you, treating you like you were nothing and constantly forgetting your name. Yet another reason to keep your relationship secret.

Tonight, both you and Aegon were getting ready to go to the annual ‘Targaryen Family Gala’, both to attend in very different ways. You arrived at the house, through the ‘staff’ entrance, dressed in a white shirt and short black skirt, your apron basically covering it. You smirked to yourself, knowing Aegon's eyes would likely be on you most of the night. You wished Helena could be there, even if she was ‘one of them’ she always made things more bearable.

As the party began to liven up, you circled the guests, handing out champagne from the tray you were carrying. You watched Aegon in the corner with his mother, Alicent, watching her talk at him as if he were a child whilst rolling his eyes, looking up to the ceiling as if to ask for help. Making your way over, you offered them both a drink, smiling politely at the pair of them, Aegon’s cheeky wink going unnoticed by his mother. 

You continued gliding around the party, slipping in between slightly drunk, wealthy men and women. Readying another tray of drinks, you recognised two familiar voices speaking in a hushed tone, angrily going back and forth in conversation.

“Aegon look, you are twenty now, you are to carry on your father’s legacy and you must have someone suitable by your side to do it with,” you heard Alicent whisper-shout. 

“I don’t want to settle down, I’m enjoying myself, mother,” Aegon slurred, clearly having had one too many. 

“Anyway, there’s far too many options out there to settle for one,” he joked and Alicent scoffed in disgust. 

“There’s one now,” Aegon spoke, looking a tall blonde girl up and down, “I’ll be off.” He turned to smirk at his mother before walking away, enjoying her frustration and disappointment. 

Your heart dropped in your chest, you knew Aegon liked to keep up appearances, but you’d never had to watch it firsthand. A wave of anger filled your system, seeping through your body as your hands began to shake. You took a deep breath, two can play that game, you thought to yourself. 

For the rest of the evening, you flirted with each and every boy you came into contact with. You smiled innocently at Aegon every time he noticed, watching him clench his jaw at your actions.

Once his friends took an interest in you, it was game over; Aegon stormed over to you, grabbing your arm not so gently. He didn't care about the eyes of his family and friends staring at him in confusion as he dragged a waitress out of the large ballroom. “What the fuck was all that,” he growled at you, not even stopping to look at your expression before pulling you into the nearest room. 

He let go of your arm, walking further into the room, running his hands through his messy blonde locks. “Are you going to answer me Y/N?!” he shouted this time, still with his back to you. You smirked, enjoying how riled up he got because of your actions. 

“What did I do?” you shouted back, your anger from earlier refuelling. “What did you mean, Aegon, when you went off to ‘get to know’ that beautiful blonde earlier?” You asked, your words laced with jealousy. 

Aegon turned, meeting your eyes, looking shocked for a moment, before his usual cocky attitude resumed. “We agreed to keep this secret, I was merely acting the part,” he remarked, smirking at the redness in your cheeks caused by your rage. 

“As was I,” you spat, “so if you don’t mind, I’ll be getting back to my job.” Spinning around where you stood, hand reaching for the door handle. 

Before you could turn the handle, a rough hand grabbed your ponytail, pulling you back into his chest. “You’re not going back out there until everyone realises you’re fucking mine,” Aegon whispered into your ear, his breath hot on your neck, wetness pooling between your legs. 

Keeping one hand tightly around your ponytail, his other hand grabbed your hip, guiding you towards the back of the sofa and bending you over it. Your cunt clenched with anticipation as he palmed your ass, ripping your skirt up in one motion, making you almost bare in front of him. “Already wet for me, little slut,” he purred, looking at the damp patch of your panties. 

He slid one finger lightly up your clothed slit, making you stifle a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction he craved. Aegon pulled his hand away in response, quickly coming down to slap your bare ass. You jolted at the action, only making you soak your panties more. “I will do this until you moan for me” he threatened, you clenched again at the thought, rubbing your thighs together for some much needed friction. 

“So desperate, so stubborn,” Aegon crooned before landing another heavy slap to your reddened skin. 

Two, three, four more came before you broke, whimpering at his touch. “Are you going to be a good girl for me now?” he asked, leaning down towards your ear as he spoke. 

“Yes,” you whined, barely louder than a whisper, your eyes glassy with desperation. 

Before you could even think, you felt Aegon shove his fingers into you and began to pump them into and out with precision. The familiarity of his touch brought you close to your first high and you bite your bottom lip to try and stop the noises you desperately wanted to make.He released his harsh grip on your ponytail to your throat, lightly squeezing each side. The combination of his long fingers curling into you and his hand around your neck had you seeing stars, your first orgasm approached as you moaned loudly, tightening around him, his hand dripping with your juices. Aegon brought his fingers up to his mouth, savouring your taste like fine wine.

He then knelt behind you, barely giving you enough time to recover before attaching his mouth to your centre, licking up the juices he’d missed. “Mhm no, Aeg, too much,” you whimpered in response, trying to pull away from the overstimulation.

Aegon moaned into you as he grabbed your hips, pulling you back into his mouth as he dipped his tongue inside you. You were sure his fingers would leave marks, just like he wanted. “Fuck Aegon,” you couldn’t keep your moans at bay as he kitten licked you clit, brining you towards yet another orgasm. 

“So, fucking, perfect,” he spoke against you, the vibrations of his voice making you scream out in pleasure. 

He added two fingers into you once more, curling into your sweet spot as he lapped and sucked at your clit in unison. Your body began to shake as you came, screaming his name as you clutched onto the back of the large sofa. “That's it baby, let them know who owns you,” Aegon spoke as you rode out your high.

Aegon unzipped his trousers, his cock slapped up against his chest, his tip leaking precum. You looked back at him, eyes wide knowing what he was about to do, already feeling exhausted from your previous two releases. 

He pushed into your dripping cunt, giving no time to adjust to his size. The grip on your hips tightening as he pounded into you, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “Fuck, so tight, you were made for me princess,” Aegon moaned and his hand returning to your hair, pulling you back into his chest to find a deeper angle. 

The new angle allowed him to once again reach your sweet spot. You could feel your cunt begin to flutter around his length. He moaned, relentless to chase his own release with a desperation to fill you with his pearly spend. Trembling, your climax washing over you, coaxing his own as he spilled into you. The pair of you scream each other's names in pleasure, forgetting the party down the hall. 

Aegon pulls out of you gently, caressing your cheek. “Do you think now is a bad time to tell my mother we’re dating?” he jokes, looking into your eyes. 

You look wearily up at him, a wide grin appearing on your face, “at least you’ve settled down.” 

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Villainess AU Headcanons

I’ve been on a real fantasy kick lately, and that’s not stopping with post. This is a plot bunny that’s been hopping around in my mind for a while, and it snatched up my Dragon Jack AU headcanons from the previous posts, along with the tragic short story of Alice remembering how she died in her past life as Mary to become a bigger bunny. This is the long overdue and previously teased Villainess AU!

Content warnings before we begin: this post touches on topics of infidelity, betrayal, yandere obsession, attempted mind control, death, chronic illness, trauma, and a bit of spice to lighten it up. This shouldn’t get too dark or smutty, but who knows where indulging in my OTP will take me?

On that note, I might wind up using some art from the game/teasers/merch/etc. in this post, so I’m going to go ahead and give a shout out to SnaccPop Studios’ patreon. Consider joining to see some exclusive stuff! Credit to them for this game that has given me plot bunnies that are constantly multiplying.

Anyway, the villainess genre, for those unaware, is a subgenre of the transmigrator genre, which in turn is a subgenre of isekai stories. Typically it takes an otome - a dating sim game aimed at women with a female protagonist - and has the world within that story be real. The main character, a fan of the dating sim, is reborn in the world of this dating sim, not as the protagonist, but as the evil villainess rival who gets in the protagonist’s way and inevitably meets a terrible end regardless of the route taken, often going through much humiliation in the process. The main character then has to avoid her horrible fate and overturns the original story, oftentimes becoming the one the love interests are drawn to instead of the original female protagonist.

Naturally, there are stories that tweak the formula around and subvert expectations, but that’s the basic gist of the genre.

Now Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack is a dating sim, but there’s a distinct lack of a villainess character involved in the plot, which makes sense since Jack fills the antagonist role in every route pretty well. This means that a villainess AU would have the world of the in-universe game be different from the game that we can actually play in our world over on steam and itch. If you’d like to see my ideas on an isekai that takes place in the game as we know it, check it out in this previous post over here.

So let’s start with the AU’s in-universe game itself, and what classic otome roles our favorite male leads might take. While I could cast Ian in the prince role once again like I did with the dragon AU and the fantasy incubus Jack AU, I think we all know who the real ruler of SDJ is.

Thus Jack gets the role of the crown prince. Now, we could have this be a standard fantasy kingdom, but I feel inclined to give it a SunnyTime Town AU twist. Much like in the Aphrodisia crossover Mafia AU, our favorite clown family is a powerful ruling family, only with magic and clown gimmicks instead of guns. Shaun, Nick, and Ian aren’t their typical selves in this universe, but they too get a nice colorful makeover and some spiffy titles, as shown in these limited edition trading cards. Thanks to Crispy for sharing pictures of the cards, and credit to Sauce for creating the amazing artwork in the first place.

Since we’re talking about the cards, how about we shake things up and leave the star of the show for last so we can show off the clown counterparts of the other three male leads.

Ian Duff has the title of Sir Sweet Dreams, and is a knight in this AU, part of the illustrious order of the Night-Knights. His hair is a shade of violet-blue, with face paint that gives him some blue splotches and stars. The Duffs are a noble family, and Ian struggles with the weight of obligation as the firstborn son. He’s not suited for combat, being a pacifist at heart. The otome’s main character (who I will call OMC for simplicity) would help Ian choose his heart over his duty when going down his route, and fight for the future that he wants instead of what his family expects.

Shaun Durand-Cofer is a member of the mage tower, with white and gray face paint and glowing golden eyes, given the nickname of Glad-Pire due to his cheerful personality and his specialization in studying the secrets of dark magic. He’s still our favorite goth butterball, even as a magical clown, and he has MoonPie as his familiar. In the original otome game, OMC would help him deal with the doubts that he’s been having about studying dark magic. He’s been a great benefit to the kingdom, but many are suspicious of his motives, not trusting dark magic in any form, and his relatives are ashamed of him despite the good he’s done.

Nick Herrera’s clown identity with his white and blue face paint is an interesting one, with the title of Sous Chef Sweetly, his job in the trading cards is very different from his employment in the game. Now, typically fantasy otome games don’t have our OMC romancing a chef, but they do have love interests who are wonderful at cooking. Regardless if he is a sous chef or a dom in this universe, Nick is a member of the nobility, and is quite popular with people. He has countless suitors wanting his hand, and he’s known as a ladies’ (and more) man. However, despite his reputation and charming personality, in reality he’s just a shy dork who struggles to make a genuine human connection. In the otome game, OMC sees past his status and reputation that others have placed on him, and sees him for the awkward guy he is deep down inside.

Finally, let’s talk about Jack, or rather him and the rest of the Blouin family. King Marceau and Queen Lucy rule together over this colorful country, and are known to be just and fair. Jack, their second born child, is crown prince and heir to the throne. Their eldest child, Jane, would have been next in line if she didn’t make it very clear from an early age that she did not want the role. She would rather travel the world as a free spirit, not weighed down by the weight of the crown, so she left it to her little brother to take care of in her place.

Fortunately, Jack has accepted his role with dignity and grace. He’s known to always be smiling, a prince everyone admires and desires. Deep down though, he has insecurities about everyone only seeing him for the title of king that he will one day inherit. They see the prince first and Jack second. He always had the option to pass on the role to his younger sibling, but young Jo is a sensitive soul, and Jack couldn’t force them to carry such a heavy burden. He accepted the role of heir from Jane gladly, and he was always sure he could handle it, but doubts creep in that OMC helps him work through as they see Jack for who he is and not for the crown he must one day wear.

Now, the role of the villainess in these games is to act as a romantic rival, the person who stands in the way of OMC getting together with one of the love interests. There can be one that gets in OMC’s way no matter who they pursue, or each love interest could have a “villainess” who gets together with them should the OMC fail their route. Typically, if there’s at least one villainess, she’s engaged to one of the love interests in an arranged marriage set up by their parents. She’s also obsessed with power, and typically the crown prince. This is why she’s usually the prince’s fiancee, who is clearly unfit to be queen.

But why not make things a bit spicier? The villainess in this otome game is an arranged marriage to Ian, but she wants to marry Prince Jack instead to become queen. In Ian’s route, she abuses him similarly to his mother, making him feel like he’s not good enough for her. However, when OMC gets closer to Ian in his route, they get on the villainess’ nerves and she gives them a hard time despite not actually caring for Ian. It’d be like seeing someone steal your toy away when you weren’t ready to discard it. The general vibe is, “I don’t want him, but no one else is allowed to have what’s mine!”

For Shaun’s route, the villainess would be tricking him, using his knowledge of black magic for selfish ends without him realizing it. In the bad end, he would be arrested and executed for treason, as the villainess used him to help her make a love potion that she used on Prince Jack. She, of course, also is executed, because the villainess doesn’t win regardless of the route. The OMC would have to find out about the villainess’ schemes to clear Shaun’s name and prevent the potion from being used.

In Nick’s route, the villainess is jealous of his popularity. He’s also probably a stepping stone in her plots to bewitch and seduce the prince. She’s less of a central antagonist in this route for the OMC, but still an annoyance that gets a bad end regardless of how Nick’s route ends, because the villainess having countless bad ends is kind of the punchline.

Then of course there’s Jack’s route. Naturally, being the one the villainess is lusting after and wants to bewitch, the conflict with the OMC is more pronounced in this route for obvious reasons. OMC must stop the villainess’ countless bullying tactics and schemes in order to have a happy ending.

Basically, it’s the classic otome game setup, with a touch of colorful clown face paint for flare.

Now, the actual MC, the character we’d be playing as in this AU, would be a fan of the otome game. Perhaps playing it is their guilty pleasure. They’re familiar with all the routes. Then, one day, they wake up in the body of the villainess in classic transmigrator isekai fashion.

Although the role of villainess is typically for cis females, MC is whatever gender we decide they should be. There’s a lot of possibilities to explore how an AMAB MC might react to suddenly having an AFAB body, or perhaps whatever force of the universe that made them take the role changed it so that the “villainess” is whatever gender MC was in their previous life, or whatever gender that is true to them.

MC would then be left with the choice of how to handle living in this world and the role they were expected to play. The obvious solution would be to avoid anything having to do with the OMC or seducing Jack, but typically it’s not that easy for the MC to avoid the other characters in a villainess story, especially if they’re engaged to Ian. This is especially true if they start feeling attracted to Jack despite knowing the many bad ends that might await them down that path.

There’s a lot of variables with a general MC and how that would affect the villainess character, as well as what they made of that character. That’s why this ramble took a while to make. I got too caught up on the broader picture, and kept waffling back and forth on things.

So let’s narrow our focus, shall we?

Alice takes the role of villainess in this story. In the original game, the character Alice is spoiled, greedy, vain, gluttonous, and just an overall unpleasant rival that is meant to be the clear-cut bad guy that the player should take great pleasure in seeing get a most unpleasant and humiliating end. You know, the typical chubby antagonist whose weight is the reason why they are deemed repulsive and the butt of the universe’s jokes.

In a way, Alice is forced to take up an unpleasant role like her acting teacher warned her she would be pigeonholed into in the main universe. Only, in this case, she’s expected to live the part.

Of course, unlike a lot of stories in this genre where the villainess starts off chubby and goes through a story arc where they quickly lose weight, Alice is going to stay chubby in this AU, because as long as one is healthy, their size and shape doesn’t matter. It won’t stop people from making fun of her for her size, but it also won’t stop her from being beautiful and worthy of love.

Since this is a reincarnation story, naturally Alice’s previous incarnation was Mary. Since otome games weren’t really a thing in the USA in the early 80’s, the world would instead be based off of a storybook, or a series of stories. It could even be a tween romance series where the main character romances a different guy in the same setting, something super self-indulgent where the protagonist may as well be a build-it-yourself OC with how little detail they have. In this AU, it was a series that was a guilty pleasure when Mary was young that she probably cringed at when looking at it again later in life.

It would also provide a huge tonal whiplash to suddenly find herself in the role of such a series’ villainess after dying such a sad and lonely death in the hospital. Instead of waking up in the comforting arms of her lover in the next life, she wakes up in a lavish mansion with memories of the character she was reborn to play blending in with her sad former life.

It would be interesting if, as a kid, Mary envied the OMC for all the adventures and love she got, only to go back to the series as an adult and see all the awful messages. Many protagonists in the genre wind up empathizing with the villainess, seeing where the story painted them in an unfair light, and things about Alice in the story wound up striking too close to home now that she saw them as an adult, and the OMC is a lot more childish and self-centered than she remembered.

It’d still be strange for anyone to wake up in the role of an antagonist they sympathized with, especially when their last memory was filled with so much grief, pain, and trauma.

While I am tempted that Alice just wakes up one day with Mary’s memories, I think it would be more fitting that they were triggered. In the original story, the first time Alice saw the crown prince at a party, she fell obsessively in love with him. However, in this case, his familiar face reminded her instantly of Joseph, and struck her with a painful nostalgia that rocked her to her core, awakening her memories of her previous life and how she died.

Alice collapses from the shock on the spot. All the memories of pain and love colliding and blending in with this new reality hit her all at once, overwhelming her completely. To onlookers, she’s a noble lady who merely fainted, possibly swooning at the sight of the crown prince, or because of some sudden illness.

It, understandably, takes Alice a while to reconcile the two sets of memories… especially when she realizes that she’s been reborn in the world of a story with many possible endings… as the hated villainess who is going to meet one of many awful ends.

Alice grieves for Joseph and everything she lost as Mary all over again. Prince Jack is so painfully similar to Joseph… especially if the SunnyTime Crew Show existed in her previous life. It’d be so shockingly coincidental, too coincidental, and it’d be hard for her to know what to make of it. Even if the show and the character of Sunny Day Jack didn’t exist, she would still wonder if maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t the only one reborn.

At the same time, Alice knows the original story. The Alice in the story was obsessed over Jack. What if she goes down the same path, leading to the doom of not only herself, but possibly even her family who enabled the villainess’ rampage in the series?

Since Alice would regain her memories the first time she saw Jack, it would most likely be a point in time before the stories were supposed to begin, perhaps even when she is still a child before she gains that villainess reputation in the first place. It might be fitting too, since the first time she and Joseph met was as children. In a way, it’s like they had their first meeting all over again, only she’s the one who needed to be taken away for medical assistance.

This leaves Alice in a difficult place. Should she find out if Jack really is Joseph? What if he doesn’t remember their past lives? What if she’s wrong and the universe is playing yet another cruel joke on the villainess Alice?

What if this is why the character Alice was so dangerously obsessed over Jack? The story was primarily focused on the OMC, not really touching on the reasons why Alice was so desperate to be with Jack beyond an apparent desire for power. The stories never really talked about her family, which Mary is surprised is so loving, even to the point of spoiling Alice. She wished for a family who loved her this much, and now she has it. She’s not alone anymore.

 The original story has so many paths that lead to her doom. Mary Phoenix is dead, and she is now Alice of house Rose. There was nothing left for her in the life she left, and in this new life she doesn’t hurt like she used to. She has so much more in this life, everything she dreamed of during those long and lonely nights she spent sick in her room.

The only thing missing is her starlight, but… if he would be happier without her… she’ll leave Jack be. The prince in the stories was always disgusted by the villainess and adored the OMC no matter what route the OMC took. Mary helped Joseph get the job of Sunny Day Jack that led to his death. If Prince Jack really is Joseph reborn like she suspects, he’s loved by all. She knows from the stories and what she has heard that he has a loving family, and the love of an entire kingdom.

Perhaps the best thing for Alice to do is to be content with the life she has now. She has a loving family, wealth enough to do practically anything she wants, status, and, well, Ian was a sweet character. They’re not engaged yet at this time, but maybe an arranged marriage with him wouldn’t be so bad? She had met him before regaining her memories as Mary, and he seemed quite nice. Also, as a reader she did think that the villainess Alice would’ve been happier if she just was satisfied with her fiance Ian.

It doesn’t change the fact that Alice still misses Joseph. She still loves him more than anything. The pain of his death is fresh in her mind. Would it really be so selfish just to see if perhaps Jack really is her starlight reborn? Would she still be a villainess wanting to have some sort of relationship with him? She’s not the character Alice. She won’t be so cruel, and certainly wouldn’t use mind altering potions on anybody.

Alice is left torn on what the right thing to do is. The story ends miserably for her in so many ways, but this isn’t a story, this is her reality now. Love taken too far can become obsession. What if she projects her memories of Joseph onto Jack? That wouldn’t be fair to him. He might never remember… or he might be someone else entirely. He might just look like her starlight, with the name of the character he played when he died, the same character she came up with as the show’s writer. The same role that led to his death. It would be so cruel if he wasn’t Joseph, but then again, this world is very cruel to its villainess.

It’s this sort of internal war that keeps Alice secluded from the world and society for a while. She needs time to sort through these memories and thoughts. She needs to grieve and remember the story to figure out what the right path forward is. This seclusion and sudden drastic change in her mood worries her family. They don’t know what’s wrong with her, and she won’t open up to them, as there’s no way to explain without sounding like a lunatic.

Eventually, Alice would come to the conclusion that she should keep a respectable distance between her and Jack. If he is Joseph and remembers her… it’s all she could ask for. But she won’t go down the path of forcing it. She won’t force him to have a relationship, to love her, and she certainly won’t force him to be what she wants. She will accept that Joseph is dead and that she must move on and somehow find a happy ending despite the role she has been given. Whatever relationship she might have with Jack in the future, she won’t forcefully bind him to her just because of a past that was now dead.

Jack, however, has different plans.

Come on, you can’t expect me to let things end like that for my OTP. I’m a sucker for happy endings after all. Besides, we’ve still got to add some yandere spice to the mix even if Alice is refusing to play the part like the villainess character did.

Despite Alice’s fears, Jack is indeed Joseph reborn. He has a passing familiarity with the story, since he knew that it was Mary’s favorite series as a child. He took interest in the things she liked, even if they didn’t resonate with him the way it did with her. However, the original story doesn’t matter to him. The instant he saw his sunshine’s face for the first time, he knew, he just knew that he couldn’t let her go.

Just like Alice has trauma from her death, Jack does as well. Whatever supernatural curse bound Joseph to the tape led to the pair being reborn in this world. Perhaps he figured out a way to escape his hell, or change its form, leading to the creation of this world while also bringing Mary’s soul into this new world he created. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that Mary was the one who came up with the concept of the SunnyTime Crew show in the first place and was one of the writers. Perhaps the wish she made at the end of her life changed both their fates, and she was the one responsible for this world’s existence. Perhaps it was a mixture of all these things, or something else entirely that led to this situation. For all we know, a trickster god decided to meddle with things to give them a new life where they might have a second chance.

Perhaps a trickster dragon god who wants to see her OTP live a new life in a different world where they can be happy together and is a fan of the villainess transmigration genre. ;3

Whatever the case, Jack won’t let anyone take his sunshine away. He isn’t Joseph anymore. They can have a fresh start, a new life without the sins of Joseph Cullman to weigh him down. He can create the life for the two of them that he always wished to make. He can be whatever he wants to be, including a prince charming that will give his sunshine whatever her heart desires.

The time Jack spent in hell left him with nightmares of cold nights, lost and alone even before consciously remembering his past life. He clung to his family more because of it, being somewhat of a spoiled baby, but their love helped him not feel so alone. Even still, something was missing, a hole in his heart that ached to be filled.

Being a prince, Jack sees countless faces. He has to remember so many people in order to be a good king one day. He often goes to parties to greet countless nobles, but none of them caught his attention like Alice.

Initially, Jack didn’t see Alice in the crowd, staring at him with wide eyes. It was the commotion that caught his attention. He heard one of the young ladies had fainted. The knights were on alert, worried about foul play. They ushered the prince to safety, but Jack dragged his feet, he kept looking back.

Then Jack caught a glimpse of her, the girl being carried off by a servant or a worried parent. Her sickly pale face was so familiar… he couldn’t place it. He struggled a little harder, wanting a better look at her, but the knights were stronger and urged him away. Something inside him screamed to go back. He had to see her properly, look in her eyes, which were twisted tightly closed.

For some reason he was certain that her eyes were a distinct shade of blue.

Jack couldn’t get Alice out of his mind. He found out her name after things calmed down. She had gotten sick. What was wrong? Oh, the family couldn’t say for sure. That wasn’t good enough of an answer for Jack. He needed to know what happened, if she was okay. He had to see her.

The glimpse of Alice was like a crack in the wall that separated Jack from his memories of Joseph. He had painful flashes, nightmares of a life filled with regrets that only had a few shining moments of happiness.

The brightest light in that darkened life was the one with eyes the color of the sky at dawn.

Jack kept petitioning to visit Alice, under the excuse that he wanted to wish her well, see if she was alright in person, but the Rose family politely declined each time. His concern was appreciated, but she was too unwell for visitors.

It drove Jack crazy, and it brought back memories of a hospital, of a woman whose life hung by a thread. More than once Joseph had to take Mary to the hospital even before her final days there. Being unable to see her also made him feel lonely in a way that he hadn’t felt in so, so long. He felt so very, very cold.

At some point Jack remembered names. He remembered Mary, Joseph, and the tragic way his life and career ended with exposed sins and gunfire. He also remembered what came after, the cold emptiness and pain that tore away at him, his desperation for someone, anyone to save him, to remember that he was still there.

Jack struggled with reconciling these memories. He wanted to escape from them, but at the same time he couldn’t let go of Mary, the girl who looked so much like Alice. The memories of the story that made up the world he lived in were vague, something he remembered far later, but for now he just had to meet Alice, if only to settle the dissonance that had overtaken his mind.

The change in Jack was noticed, of course, and his family were concerned about him. He quickly remembered how to hide how he felt behind a smile. The more he remembered of the actor known as [Redacted], the better he could play the part of the cheerful, smiling prince. Being a prince really wasn’t that much different than being a kids TV show host and teacher after all. He just needed to put on a good show for everyone.

When Alice had recovered enough to leave her bedroom and try to live her new life, she was shocked to learn that the prince wanted to see her, and was surprisingly insistent about it. Although her family said that she didn’t have to see him if she was still unwell, she couldn’t turn him down. She had to see him, talk to him at least once. Then maybe, just maybe, she could figure out what she should do.

The moment they met, Alice tried to act like a proper lady, to not let on how seeing Jack face to face made her heart ache so much. She curtsied and greeted him as she was polite instead of giving in to the part of her that just wanted to throw herself into his arms and cry.

Those eyes of hers were just as bright and blue as Jack knew they would be. He knew that he was right. Alice was Mary, his sunshine. She acted as if she didn’t recognize him, but maybe it was better that way. They could start over as Jack and Alice. They could forget all the mistakes, all the pain.

This time, Jack would do everything right.

Jack was charming during their meeting. He expressed concern about Alice fainting at the party, offering her a gift that left her confused and a bit flustered by the attention. His behavior was so kind and princely… but he didn’t recognize her. She couldn’t be sure this was Joseph or just someone with his face. Spending time with him was both wonderful and made her heart ache with longing. If she was to keep herself from becoming obsessed with him, she knew by the end of the night that she would have to keep her distance.

Of course, Jack would never allow that. He started sending Alice letters, visited her often, and invited her to the palace. Despite the painful nostalgia of their past, the time they spent together was a joy to both of them. Alice laughed at his dumb jokes for the first time in what felt like forever. It was so hard not to simply fall in love with him all over again in spite of herself.

Though they were getting closer, Jack couldn’t risk anything getting between them. By this point, he remembered some elements of the story, just the broadest strokes, but they were enough for him to remember the roles they were supposed to play… and how the “villainess” would inevitably meet a tragic fate.

In many storybook isekai stories, the protagonist writes down everything they can about the original story so they don’t forget it. I, like many readers, wonder what would happen if someone else was to come across these notes, but that plot point never comes up again.

So what if Jack, when visiting Alice one day, snoops through her things, and finds her notes about the original story? It could be what makes him remember the original series in the first place. It was so long ago since he read it, and he wasn’t a fan of it after all. His memories would be far more faint than Alice’s would be.

So many routes lead to awful deaths for Alice in this series. It’s sadistic to its villainess - banishment, imprisonment, beheading, assassination, poisoning, turning into a monster, and many other countless awful ends. There are some notes she added of potential counter-measures to escape these awful fates… including a note that she can’t let herself fall in love with Prince Jack.

Well now… Jack isn’t about to allow their story to meet a tragic end in any respect. Never again.

Jack is going to change the story, and the first change is to make sure that Alice gets engaged to him instead of Ian. Oh, his parents are surprised when he brings it up. They were going to let him choose who he wanted to marry when he was older, rather than force a choice, but Jack was adamant that he wanted to marry Alice. Arranging a marriage isn’t uncommon for nobility, and in fact talks had been going on between the Rose family and the Duff family for a while now, but those are swiftly ended.

Needless to say, Alice is shocked by the change in the narrative. She was already surprised that Jack liked her and went out of his way to spend time with her instead of avoiding her like in the books, but an engagement? Should she be happy or worried? He reminds her of Joseph, but he is different now. Is he really her starlight?

When meeting Jack next, Alice tries sounding him out. She tries to subtly bring up things about their past that only Mary and Joseph would know. Jack doesn’t acknowledge these things, redirecting conversations and distracting Alice so she doesn’t try again. If she tries being more forceful, it causes Jack to be shaken up, not wanting to be Joseph anymore, and she immediately backs off at seeing his distress. Even if she wants answers, she can’t stand the idea of hurting Jack.

The question never gets neatly resolved for Alice about whether Jack is really Joseph, but it’s hard for her not to be swept up by him. He always had a way of charming her, and they have so much fun together. Even if they are new people now, they fit so neatly together, like two puzzle pieces. Despite her resolve not to fall in love, he keeps finding ways of making her heart flutter in spite of herself.

There’s also the looming fear of the OMC and Jack falling in love with her like he did in the story, but Alice is all too aware that the story has changed. Hell, her awareness changes it in and of itself. Plus the original story was a series of stories with different routes, with no true timeline. She has no idea how the OMC is going to change things whenever she finally appears.

Alice and Jack grow up together like they did in their previous lives, only this time nothing is forcing them apart. In their own ways, they make alterations to the original story without letting the other know in order to make sure Alice won’t face a tragic end. Jack at times takes a bit more direct action against those who would hurt his sunshine.

Suffice to say, Alice falls in love with Jack in spite of herself, and eventually the truth that Jack remembers will be revealed. It’ll hurt Alice that he hid it all this time, especially since it would have reassured her so much that he remembered too. There’s going to be some drama, but in the end they love each other and want to be together. Even if the reveal might hurt after lying for so long, Alice will forgive Jack. In the end, she’ll always forgive her starlight.

In the end, Alice and Jack have their happily ever after. The memories might have left scars on their hearts, the past might have had such pain and darkness, but they can move forward. They can heal, find love and so many new connections in this life. Most of all, they’ll always find their way back to each other. Their love will bind them together forever.

As for the OMC… perhaps they get together with Ian in the end. I mean, Ian does cheat on MC in the original SDJ game, and he plays the role of the love interest who cheats with the protagonist despite being engaged in the in-universe otome game. It’d be narratively fitting.

Plus it would be kind of funny if, regardless of Jack remembering or any other connection like with Alice/Mary, MC tried to avoid their bad end by staying faithful to their fiance Ian and accept the arranged marriage… only to be cheated on when the OMC comes along, similar to the Ian route in the original story.

Man, wouldn’t it hurt even worse if MC sincerely fell in love with Ian, vowing not to cheat like the villainess did, only to wind up being the one cheated on in the end. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the teeth?

That’s pretty much all the ideas I have for the villainess AU I have for now, but it feels weird to leave it on a sour note, so here’s one last bit of fluffy OTP self-indulgence.

Jack isn’t going to wait for the wedding night to seduce Alice, though he is going to be eager to have their wedding as soon as possible. Also, in a bit of narrative irony, he’s going to be the one to get the mage’s tower to make a potion for him, but not a love potion. He would never force his sunshine to do anything she doesn’t want to do. It’s more of a potion made for loving if you catch my drift.

After all, what’s a fantasy AU with a horny male lead without some magical aphrodisiacs? Nothing to influence the will or remove consent, but it does make the skin and other places very sensitive. It’s just a little added spice after they become intimate to make Alice respond so strongly to his every touch and burn for Jack all the more.

Jack could take some as well, though he doesn't need an aphrodisiac for Alice to drive him crazy. Every time she touches him, he burns so badly for her, so desperate and needy. It took everything he could to hold himself back until she finally gave in to her feelings and loved him despite fears of the original story and their pasts. Suggesting they have a little fun with aphrodisiacs just makes things a little more fair by giving Jack a chance to drive Alice with crazy with desire for a change~

I hope it wasn’t too meandering of a ramble, hahaha. Maybe I’ll come back to this plot bunny again sometime. I hope you enjoyed it!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

[jessicanjpa]

crown molding

After losing a bet, Emmett and Jasper have to paint Edward's new bedroom (He was kicked out of his old one by Alice). Shenanigans from this chapter of 1950, Edward POV.

I moved the van back behind the garage and hung the new set of keys next to all the others; we were running out of hooks. As soon as I entered the kitchen, my nose twitched at the offensive smell of fresh paint that was already infecting the house. I made my way to the room in question to find Emmett and Jasper painting the walls at vampire speed. Esme and Jasper had completed most of the construction at human speed, but now my brothers' faces were twisted in disgust as they made short work of their gruesome task.

"Carlisle said we should take Jasper out while the first coat dries," I said, leaning against the door frame.

Emmett nodded, kicking an unused paintbrush in my direction. "Why don't you make yourself useful? This stuff reeks."

"No way. You lost fair and square. I'm going outside."

"We've both been working all day," Jasper protested. "All you've done is play the piano." And be emotionally turbulent!

"Composing is work," I scoffed. "I'd like to see you two try it."

"Come on, Eddie," Emmett growled. "It's your room."

"And it looks terrific," I said with a grin, stepping inside to survey their progress. "Don't forget about the crown…" I trailed off, tensing as I saw the devious look they were exchanging, and the plan just beginning to form in both their minds. "You wouldn't."

They attacked in tandem before I could take another breath. Jasper dove for my feet just as Emmett lunged for my shoulders, and I spun around to make my escape.

I would have made it out of the room with time to spare, but I hadn't accounted for the ladder that was right behind me. I crashed into it just as Jasper locked his arms around my ankles. I grabbed the ladder as I fell, swinging it like a club at Emmett as he came at me. It crumpled with a groan against his face. He snorted with laughter, tossed it aside, and grabbed my neck with his left hand all in one motion. I fought them as hard as I could, but they dragged me over toward the paint buckets with ease. Emmett used his right hand to dump an entire gallon of light blue paint all over me.

I snarled and sputtered, finally twisting my feet free of Jasper's paint-slick grip. I landed a kick on Emmett's throat, which made him release my neck. I grabbed another paint bucket and sloshed the contents right at Jasper's head, but he dropped down onto all fours just in time, and the paint splashed all over Emmett's face instead. The best part was that he had had his mouth open to laugh at Jasper, who had been my original target.

Emmett coughed the paint out while Jasper shook with laughter on the floor, which was now a paint-soaked disaster. "Oh, that's just…" His eyes fell on the final bucket of paint, which hadn't been opened yet. No sense in just one of us staying clean, is there?

"Nope," I said cheerfully. Emmett lunged again, but for Jasper this time. Jasper tried to dart away, but slipped on the paint underfoot as he ran in place. Emmett held him down while I cracked the bucket open over his head like an egg. His golden hair quickly became a mass of sticky, drippy blueness. He shook his head to get the excess off, sending a spray of paint directly onto…

Esme's face.

"What do you three think you're DOING!?" she shouted from the doorway. We all froze, Emmett's hands still around Jasper's throat and me still holding the incriminating evidence of the third bucket right above his blue hair.

Jasper's gift flashed to life and Esme relaxed her stern expression, looking around the room in amazement. Not only was the hardwood floor now soaked with paint, but we had also destroyed the ladder, wasted all the paint for today, and there was a dent in the wall that looked suspiciously like Emmett's profile.

"Boost it," I hissed in Jasper's ear. He concentrated his effort until Esme's laughter finally bubbled over. She darted over to where we were crowded, but she slipped on the paint like we had. Emmett flicked out his foot to trip her while she was off-balance.

"Emmett!" I said in shock. Esme sat back up blinking. The entire right side of her was now blue.

Rosalie and Alice finally made their appearance at the doorway. Alice's eyes sparkled with amusement. They both had their new blue jeans on, and I noticed now that Esme was also wearing hers… and we had just ruined them.

"What happened in here?" Rosalie shrieked, backing away.

"All right," Esme said, her eyes flashing. "Who started it?" All three of us pointed at one another. Esme glanced back at Alice, who shrugged innocently. She wasn't about to give Jasper away.

"Well," Esme said, standing back up, "since you all started it, I think you can all clean this up and repair the damage together, starting with the floor. I don't want to see a single speck of blue on the floor when you're finished. And that wall had better be perfect. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," we muttered together.

"Good. I'll bring you everything you need, because you three are not walking through the house like that. When you're done working, you can go out the window and wash off in the creek. And Edward, something tells me this didn't start until you came back in the house. So you can be the one to go buy more paint and a new ladder, and next time leave you them alone while they work. If this happens again, I just might decide that all the other rooms in the house need to be painted!"

We all nodded, doing our best to look contrite until her back was turned, though she herself was trying not to laugh until she left the room. As soon as she was gone, Jasper began shaking with silent laughter again. He was delighted to be scolded by his new mother, especially since he knew she hadn't really been angry. He had no memories of anything like this with his human mother. He thought about running and grabbing Alice with his blue, dripping arms, but she saw his plan and ran away shrieking, followed by Rosalie.

"Laugh it up, little brother," Emmett growled. "If you think paint smells bad, just wait 'til you smell paint thinner."

[slim-jims-in-this-shit-hole]

what's up my feral friends? 🌶

it's imperative that we talk about the amount of truly hot & spicy art that has been & is being made in this fandom! I MEAN, COME ON! we are blessed!

where you peek at these bad, bad boys is up to you! but from this point on, you've been warned to view at your own risk!!! 😏🥵✨

⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒

↳ Gallavich Porn Gallery & Gallavich Kinktober 2021 by @psychicskulldamage

mitch has moved on to blessing other fandoms with their immense talents, but they have left us so many gifts to continue enjoying!! heed the tags, these really run the gamut & enjoy! (trans mickey my ultimate love)

↳ Gallavich Kinktober 2022 by @darthvaders-wife

alice is a fucking real one & her kinktober art this last year is ripe for a coffee table book, good looooord. the style is immaculate!

↳ Smut, smut, and more smut by @doodlevich

jena art! jena feeds us art of all kinds & is just a creative genius. & they write too! check out their collection of illustrated smut, which spans many fandom fests! co-created with @camnoelgallavich!

↳ nsfw art collection by bigassbigtits

yooooo babes, some of these are not for the faint of heart lol, truly they'll make ya woozy. honorable mentions go to: "some ass eating" "soft" & "9 inches"

↳ Bottom Ian Gallagher fanarts by @filorux

filo has made some incredibly spicy works over the years, but we all know her true passions lie with bottom!ian !!!!! as they should !!!!!!!

↳ Gallavich Gallery - Original Pieces by gallavich_mylove

i love these!!!! they're like a sweet cartoon style, but they're feral as fuck! i hope there are more soon!

↳ I Need You to Touch Me & Kinktober Art  & Art for 'Cinematic' by catgrassplantdad by @heymrspatel

when julissa decides to get sexy, we all fucking prosper! they're all so loving & also mickey's getting choked so much!!! yay for him! yay for us!

↳ southside spice & 5 polaroids that ian takes + 1 that mickey takes 📸  by @gallawitchxx

i've decided to put myself on the rec list this time whoops! but i do think my slightly spicy snaps deserve to be seen!

↳ How's That Feel, Private? by @crossmydna

cross art?! more please! & this one's inspired by ray words, which really is just the best combo ever!

↳ Double the Pleasure, Triple the Fun & Gallavich Kinktober 2022 Collection & My Gallavich Art by @suzy-queued

deeeeeena! capping this rec list with a real bang because deena is a star & has really given us so much spice! peruse these galleries & indulge!!!! deeeeeena! capping this rec list with a real bang because deena is a star & has really given us so much spice! peruse these galleries & indulge!!!!

↳ shout-out to @mikhailoisbaby @takeyourpillsbitchh & @deathclassic who also have some amazing & sexy pieces on tumblr!

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

OLIVIA COOKE PHOTOGRAPHED BY EVELYN FREJA FOR LA TIMES.

RYAN CONDAL TALKING ABOUT ALICENT HIGHTOWER'S CHARACTER ARC IN S2.

Condal describes Alicent’s journey this season as “an ongoing expansion of the character,” although he admits the episodes “really put Alicent through her paces.”

That was something Cooke felt deeply.

OLIVIA COOKE TALKING ABOUT ALICENT HIGHTOWER IN S2.

“In this season, she’s so adrift,” Cooke says, joking that there are only so many miserable faces she can make.

“She’s losing her power. With Rhaenyra and Alicent, it’s like a butterfly effect, so as Rhaenyra is gaining power, the hourglass is turned over and the power is waning from Alicent, and her influence is waning as well. There’s an imaginary rope between [the two characters] that carries them throughout seasons.”

Cooke says Alicent “gets a massive dose of the reality” when her “psycho sons” take control of the realm.

On a more positive note, Alicent has the opportunity to explore her sexuality this season, coupling up with a character who will, for now, remain unnamed (let’s just say he matches her freak).

It’s a rare expression of freedom for a woman who has lacked agency, which Condal says has “greatly affected who her character is.”

“That was really important because you’ve not seen Alicent experience that in her adult life, and all of a sudden, she has all these teenage, passionate feelings toward someone,” Cooke says.

“I think that makes her feel insane.”

ABOUT FILMING 'HOUSE OF THE DRAGON' S2.

After seven months of production, which wrapped in September, Cooke was “absolutely knackered” — a polite British way of saying the experience had completely depleted her.

“Last season, Emma and I were only in four episodes each, so we’d walk in and be full of beans when everyone else was at death’s door. Then I think we both really felt the enormity of the schedule. And it’s so emotional.”

“Both of us are just either sobbing or screaming all the time. I don’t know if I smile in Season 2.”

Despite the exhaustion, Cooke loves playing Alicent.

She’s a character of “so many subterranean levels of repression and anger and despair and passion,” which is a huge gift.

Has compassion and empathy for her, and she understands why Alicent does manipulative, devious things.

“She’s smarter than all the men as well and she could rule and she’d be really f— good at it.”

“It’s so frustrating that she can’t believe she would be this amazing ruler because she’s so indoctrinated by the patriarchy and by her father.”

“She’s been molded to talk sweetly into the ears of these powerful men, and it’s such a disservice to who she is and what she’s capable of.”

ABOUT HER PERSONAL LIFE.

Before Season 1 premiered, Cooke was worried that her personal life might become too public for comfort.

“I just didn’t want my life to change. It’s such a big TV show, and I hadn’t ever done anything to this scale before. Or if I had, it was a film that comes out and then goes away and doesn’t live in the culture for years and years and years.”

So far, Cooke’s fears have gone mostly unfounded. She’s recognized, sure, but not in a way that disrupts her daily life.

And when it does, fans are generally nice about it, like recently when she was on the London Underground going home and a group of drunken girls started shouting “Alicent” in her direction.

“It’s actually been all right. I think you notice an uptick as the show is about to come out because they’re promoting it more.”

ABOUT ACTING.

She calls herself a “catastrophizer” and admits she can be hard on herself when reflecting on a performance.

ABOUT THEIR UPCOMING PROJECTS.

She wants to “embark on more of the unknown,” something the actor is aiming to do with her production company Chippy Tea, which she formed two years ago.

Her first production, a romance film called “Takes One to Know One,” will shoot in Rome early next year and stars Jamie Bell alongside Cooke.

She also wants to try her hand at directing.

“When I’m on set, I’m always figuring out how things work and almost shadowing the director.”

“I find acting a lot of the time to be so insular. You can get in your own way. I like the collaborative process of making something from the ground up, and I want to do more of that.”

“It’s also taking control of my own destiny a little bit more.”

ABOUT ALICENT HIGHTOWER FOR 'HOUSE OF THE DRAGON' SEASON 3.

As for Alicent, well, she may not be so lucky. But, she wants to play her for as long as possible.

“I really want her to just go off and be in the forest with some chickens,” she says, jokingly.

“But really, there’s some good stuff for her for Season 3, if we get it. Really exciting stuff.”

[myobscureimaginarium]

A commission for @akumanie to accompany the fic, Elysian Key by Alice O’Really. Akumanie is currently translating the fic into English for us! Please check out her translations.

"It will be amazing. I will be a great witch and you will be a powerful wizard. And one day the whole world will know us! What do you think, Severus? Will they know our names one day?" The commission is based on the upcoming chapter 10. You can find the rest of the scene under the cut:

Lily ran across the lawn in the park, waving from a distance. She reached Severus, grabbed his arms, and spun  around with him.

"It came, it came, it came!" she shouted as she spun. Her long red hair fluttered wildly in the wind, her green eyes shone with fierce, mad joy.

"I said it was coming," Severus said breathlessly, the moment she let him go. "Will you show it to me?"

"Sure!" She nodded eagerly. She took a crumpled letter from her pocket, religiously inspected it for the millionth time, and solemnly lent it to him.

"We'll go together," she said enthusiastically.

Severus had read her letter from Hogwarts over and over again.

"Great," he announced, raising his face and grinning.

"I'm so happy, Severus!" She grabbed him around the neck. He returned the hug without the slightest hesitation.

"It'll be great, Lily, you'll see. You will love it there, you don't have to be afraid of anything."

"I'm not afraid," she said indignantly. "First of all, I'm very smart and I can handle everything. And secondly, if I can't handle something, you can handle it. Come on, let's sit down. I brought something."

They settled on the freshly mown lawn, and Lily pulled out a bag of candy.

"They're not as good as your beans, but then, there’s no danger that any of them will taste like manure." She winked at him.

"And that's certainly reassuring." Severus nodded seriously, and they both burst out laughing. As they sucked caramels together, Lily rolled onto the grass on her back, looking up at the sky, a letter lovingly pressed to her heart. Severus lay down next to her.

"It will be amazing. I will be a great witch and you will be a powerful wizard. And one day the whole world will know us! What do you think, Severus? Will they know our names one day?"

"I doubt that," he said calmly.

"Me too." Lily grinned. "But that would be great, don't you think? Everyone would know who Lily Evans is. And if they heard the name Severus Snape, they would freeze in horror! Oh, spare us, mighty one!

"You're crazy." Severus shook his head, smiling from ear to ear. "You're an awfully snotty little witch, you know that?"

"And you're a terribly terrifying tiny wizard," she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

"With a giant nose." Severus sighed. "They'll laugh at me again."

"You're a dummy. Of course you have a big nose. You are Severus Snape, an exceptional wizard. You can't have something as vulgar as an ordinary little nose." She rolled onto her side, reached out, and pushed her index finger to the tip of Severus' nose until the skin around it whitened. "Like this, it’s absolutely fine. And I will beat up anyone who laughs at you."

"Wizards don't beat each other up, Lily Evans. Wizards curse each other. That reminds me! Did you try the Worms in Hair spell yesterday?!" he blurted out eagerly.

Lily chuckled. "You should have seen her, Severus, I thought it would be her death...!"

"Great!" He nodded with maximal satisfaction. "She shouldn't have locked you in the basement."

[babyanderson]

this is sucky and long and i didn’t know how to end it :(

abby was out on a mission, leaving you alone for the day. the only way of contacting her was a walkie-talkie placed next to you on your shared bed. you remember her saying something about it being for “emergencies only”, you’re not sure if this was an emergency. fog fills your mind more by the second and the joyful feeling in your tummy becomes almost too much as you lean back against abby’s pillow, reaching for the walkie-talkie and whispering into it. “mama..mama…mama hear me?” you giggle, moving to lay on your stomach, kicking your fuzzy sock clad feet in the air. you gasp as you hear your mama’s voice, a bit fuzzy because of the distance.

“i hear you, baby. you okay?” she says back, you can hear the smile in her voice, which made you smile at the device in your hand.

“i good, mama! i jus’ thinkin ‘bout mama n when mama gonna be back?” you giggle softly, now fidgeting to lay on your back, fiddling with the hem line of abby’s your shirt.

“good. thinking about you too, sweetie. i’ll be back soon, okay? pinky promise. gotta go though, angel. gonna be okay?” you can hear manny shout something in the distance, he says the “f word”, which makes you gasp. you pout at her words and sigh.

“okay, mama. i be okay, mama, i been drawin’! an’ playin’ with alice with mel, too, mama-*yawn*,”you say dreamily into it as you hear abby giggle into her walkie talkie.

“that’s amazing, baby. can’t wait to see your drawings! nap time now, though, okay? i’ll be back when you wake up, promise,” abby replies. you both say your goodbyes and you get tucked into your bed, slowly drifting off.

you wake up to a soft shake on your shoulder, blinking up at the blonde next to you.

“mama!” you exclaim, climbing into abby’s lap. she wraps her arms around your waist, hugging you gently.

“hi, sweetheart. missed you so much,” you hug her back tighter, quickly jumping off her lap to grab your drawings, showing them to abby proudly.

“mama, look. this one me an’ you, this one me an’ you an’ alice an’ this one me with purple hair,” she giggles once more and pulls you back into her lap, kissing your forehead, letting you talk about your day some more.

“love you, mama,” you place a kiss on abby’s cheek, smiling widely up at her.

“love you most, baby,” she replies, laying down on your bed, your head resting on her chest as your breathing syncs with hers, feeling your eyes get heavy as you drift back off together.

[that1nerd-20]

Chuck Hansen X F!Reader (Birthday special)

Warnings: Jealous chuck, Violence, Talk of sexual stuff, Gets a bit spicy, Swearing, a bit of angst, Chuck being a butt, MDNI! 18+ / ageless blogs don't interact!! Or you will be blocked

Word count: 4.7k

Other:

Reader can put her hair in a low pony, and is described as being shorter than chuck and she goes to the gym, as well as her cheeks can become red. Chuck is also able to pick her up, but only for a few split seconds and can carry her a few feet from a wall to a bed. But other than that, she is very open ended

this was purely self-indulgent, I love Chuck so much and I wanted to do something for him for his birthday. let me know if yall want part two with the smut. also, we are gonna pretend they are at the shatterdome for like a year before they close the breach, we also gonna pretend like he doesn't die. sorry for any grammar issues or sentences just don't make sense, I'm sometimes really bad at writing things, and other times my writing sounds amazing

His birthday is Aug 14th. so this will be posted on Aug 14th.

The alarm blared loudly in my ears. Groaning, I pull myself up out of bed. I stretch, hearing the bed across from me rustle. I look over, my older brother Jacob is still fast asleep. Smirking widely I make my way to his bedside.

 Cupping my hands around my mouth I scream “JACOB!!” in his ear. Jacob bolts upright, “Where's the danger?!” he rapidly looks around finally setting his eyes on me and groaning. I walk over to our shared bathroom grabbing my uniform as he gets up off his bed. I give our two dogs, Xerxes the Doberman and Baron the Deutsch Drathaar, pats on the head I close the bathroom door before changing into my uniform. I head out of the bathroom to see Jacob finish zipping up his uniform top. We both grab our bomber jackets, Jacob puts his on, the large silver lettering displayed across his back our Jaegers symbol in gold underneath. I threw my jacket over my shoulder holding it there. We both put our aviators on and headed out the door. The voice announced over the kaiju alarm.

“Kaiju alert, Sideswipe pilots please report to your conn-pod station.” walking down the hallway, many of the others moved out of the way. 

“So how's it going with Alice?” I asked my co-pilot nonchalantly, looking at him as he whipped his head around his mouth hanging open slightly. 

“How did you find out about that?!” he whisper shouted, looking around to make sure no one else heard. Smirking I look forward “She told me. I mean I am friends with her.” I said like it was no big deal. I chuckled when I heard him groan “I didn't know she was telling people about us…” I shrugged the two sets of dog tags around my neck jangling. “I'm pretty sure she only told me, since im your sister.” we walk past LOCCENT, a quick glance inside I see the Hansen boys, Mako Mori, Raleigh Becket, Cherno Alpha’s pilots, and the Wei Tang brothers. 

While there is an actual kaiju attack, we are the only Jaeger being sent out. Since my brother and I are a newer Jaeger pair, Marshall Pentecost wants us to show off our skills to the other Jaeger pilots. We finally reached our conn-pod station. Jacob and I place our jackets and aviators neatly in a pile on one of the benches at our station. 

Pulling my hair up into a low ponytail, our crew gets to work helping us put our armor on. I hear the marshall and a group of people walk to the entrance of our station. A low psst sounds from my brother's direction, I look at him with a slightly annoyed look “What?!” I whisper harshly, he smirks softly “What about Chuck?” he whispers back, my eyebrows crease in confusion, glancing at the aforementioned pilot, who was watching us like the rest of the group. 

“What about him?” I whisper back at my brother, whose smirk only gets wider “You fuck ‘im yet?” he whispers back, my face turning bright red. The crew members who were working on us paused, some also going bright red, A few of them snickering. I glared at the group, “is there a problem?” an authoritative voice rings out. Jacob and I freeze, gulping. I glance at the marshall “No sir.” Jacob and I answered at the same time. Our team hastily resumed their work, Jacob and I straightened our backs staring straight forward “Good.” the marshall simply states. The last piece of my suit is secured in place, our helmets are handed to us. 

I look over at my brother “Ready, Luke?'' His nickname comes out harshly “As ever, Leia.” He brings his fist up waiting expectantly, a big grin stretches across my face, and I hit my own fist against it. We head into our conn-pod, “Good luck pilots.” Marshall Pentecost says before leading the group away. We step into our footholds, Jacob to my left, our team hooks us up to the neural bridge, and we both put our helmets on.

“Testing 1, 2, 3, Sideswipe can you hear me?” Tendo’s voice sounds out, and Jacob reaches his right arm up to the control panel. “We hear you loud and clear Mission control.” Jacob lets his arm fall. “Initializing neural handshake.” I feel the pull at the back of my head as we enter the drift. Memories from our childhood in Wisconsin flowed through, everything that flashed between us is stuff we'd both seen before. Memories of our younger brother Atlan float by too. We are brought out of the drift quickly “Neural handshake completed and holding strong.” our jaeger is then picked up to be brought to the kaiju. 

Jacob’s mind fills up with explicit images of his girlfriend making me gag in disgust. “Dude, are you really thinking about Alice like that right now?!” I yell over at my copilot. He smirks and looks over at me. “Well you're thinking about how you'd like to screw that-” Cutting him off I yell at him “-that nothing, im not thinking about screwing anyone!” although both he and I knew that wasnt the case, we were in each others head, we can't lie. Memories of Chuck when he's working out in the base gym flash in my head, and my mind wanders to the memory of how the muscles in his arms strained and moved while he worked out. I was always blessed when he decided to wear tank tops while he did. Him being so hot in a tank top got me hurt once. 

“C'mon, you got this! You are so close!” Jacob had challenged me to see who could run for the longest time on the treadmills. Anytime we did this I would share my earbuds and blast music to keep us going. Jacob gave up ¾ of the way through my run, but I was close to beating my record on how many miles I could run in one go, which was 3.5 miles. I was nearing the record, and Jacob and a few others were cheering me on. 

When I finally hit it, the small group that had formed around me started cheering, but I wasnt completely tired yet so I wanted to keep pushing. Right after I hit 4 miles, that's when he appeared, large arm muscles and broad shoulders being shown off by the tank top. Chuck asked one of the others around me what was going on, gripping the towel around his neck, but when he glanced at me my foot slipped out from underneath me. 

I slid down the treadmill, pulling the emergency cord with me. Although the treadmill shut off pretty quickly, I still got shot to the floor. My right arm and leg burned. “Shit! Y/N!” Jacob leaned down near me, rolling me onto my left side to assess the damage to my right side. I groaned opening my eyes, asking my brother silently how bad it was. He answered through our link “It doesn't look too bad, just bad rugburns in a sense.” I saw Chuck peer over my face, his beautifully hot, sweaty face, filled with concern. “Ya alrigh’ love?” my face flushed red, not trusting my voice I nod. 

“Dude stop that! I don’t need to see you drooling over lover boy-” Jacob nearly screamed at me, shaking me out of my thoughts, “You’re such a little baby.” I retorted. The helicopters above us slow down getting ready to drop us. We both brace ourselves when Jacob speaks “But I’m your little baby” I can practically hear the smirk in his tone. The cables on our Jaeger snap and we are released. When we land we steady ourselves, Jacob and I share a look, before we turn our attention to the kaiju in front of us, not making a move until we say “Let's kill this piece of shit.”

Time skip

Our Jaeger docks in the shatterdome, the head lifts off Sideswipe, and heads up to our station. We get unhooked from the neural bridge, taking off our helmets we make our way out to our docking station. We see the marshall and the other Jaeger pilots having a conversation at the entrance of the room, our team starts to disassemble our suits. 

Jacob and I face the group of pilots, as the last few bits of our suits are taken off. I try not to glance at Chuck, but I can't help but look at him at least once, I find him looking away from everyone with his arms crossed. Jacob and I head to our jackets, we unpile the stuff, taking what was ours. I put my boots back on after folding my aviators on the collar of my uniform. I sling my jacket over my shoulder again as Jacob puts his on. We approach the group that was blocking our way out, our crew long gone. 

The marshall turned towards us, I gave him a nod, and Jacob addressed him directly, his normally light, joking tone replaced by a cold serious one. “Marshall.” the marshall gave us both a curt nod.

“You two performed well,” the marshall starts, “Color me impressed.” he offers us a small smile before turning back towards the group and walking out. The Wei Tang brothers and the Cherno Alpha pilots leave with the Marshall, Herc comes up to us giving us both a pat on the shoulder. Before Herc leaves he gives me a strange look, like he's trying to tell me something. Mako and Raleigh both tell us Good job before walking out as well. Jacob heads out giving me a knowing look as I take notice that Chuck is still here. I turn towards Chuck, who has his arms crossed over his broad chest, an annoyed look on his face, as he stares off into a corner of the room. 

Making my way over, I place my jacket over my arm, as I get closer to Chuck I can see he's lost in thought. “Hey.” I stop about 2 feet in front of him. It seems to snap him out of his trance, he looks at me quickly before he storms out of the room. I sat there gaping staring after him. What was that about? 

I make my way down to the mess hall since it was dinner, but not before stopping by Jacob and i’s room to grab the dogs and to change. I change into a gray T-shirt and black cargo pants, keeping my combat boots on and both sets of dog tags. A few weeks after Jacob and I became friends with the Hansen boys, I had a gift left on our doorstep. Chuck had given me a spare set of his dog tags, he wrote a note saying that he wanted someone to get his dog tags when he died, and most likely his main set would be impossible to recover. He said that he thought id be a good choice. If he saw them find a home around my neck, he didn't say anything. While we barely knew each other a few weeks, we had become really good friends. I put my aviators on, grabbed the dogs' leashes, and headed toward the mess hall.

Xerxes was a pretty tall muscular dog, he was a traditional-looking Doberman; black coat, docked tail, and cropped ears to stand tall. Baron was on the smaller side, still a big dog, but he wasnt as tall, he was somewhat stocky and looked very mean but was a sweetheart, both of them are. Baron's black coat was littered with singular white hairs across his chest, feet, and face he was a traditional Drahthaar with a docked tail as well. 

With one dog on each side of me, I made my way into the mess hall. I see Jacob already sitting with Herc and Chuck, so I stop by the table and hand the dogs over, who immediately lay down next to the table. I head up to the counter and grab my food. When I get back to the table, I sit down across from Jacob and next to Chuck in my normal spot. The dogs move from their spot and lay down by me, I could feel Max under the table resting his head on my foot. We all talked, but Chuck wouldn't say a thing to me. He wouldn't even look at me, the air around us got awkward. As soon as Chuck was done eating he jumped up and stormed off. He even left Max, which he never does. 

I look over at Herc, my face contorted in confusion and hurt. 

“Sorry kid, he's an ass sometimes,” he shrugs before continuing, “I think I have an idea of wha’ it’s about but he needs to deal with it on his own.” Herc gets up, not realizing that Max was still under the table. I look at Jacob still confused “What is it with you men being cryptic all the time?” I ask him. He shrugs “I guess we're just programmed like that” he takes a bite of his food “Not everybody is like me and expresses their feelings.” he chuckles softly. Taking a bite of my food I smile. “You are truly one of a kind.” I laugh swallowing my food, “and not in a good way.” he pretends to pout. “Well thanks, sis for being so nice to your big brother.” he sarcastically comments. We stare each other down for a few moments before we burst out laughing. 

We finish eating so I get up to throw my tray away. “Can you take the dogs back to the room? I gotta get Max back to Chuck,” I asked Jacob, Max’s head perking up, Jacob nodded. I called Max, and he got up and followed me while I dumped my tray. Making my way out of the mess hall with Max following behind me. I slowly walk through the shatterdome halls not really knowing where Chuck is. 

Luckily I see Herc, I call out for him "Herc!!" He looks behind him spotting me and stops. "Do you know where Chuck is?" He nodded scratching his chin "he's in his room." Turning around I head back down the hallway calling out a thank you as Max chased after me down the hall. 

Arriving at Chuck's door I hesitate before finally knocking. I hear some rustling before I hear faintly from behind the door "What?!". Glancing down at Max I slowly speak up "I-it's me," swallowing some spit I continue, "You left Max in the mess hall so I brought him to you." Hearing nothing I sigh, "I-i don't know what I did, but I'm sorry…" still getting no response I leave Max at the door and head back to my room.

Chuck ignored me for the next week. I started eating up by my Jaeger's conn-pod station. The dogs often joined me, offering me sympathy as they rest their heads against my legs. 

One day Herc came running up "Kid I need your help! Raleigh told me chucks gone crazy, said he's beating up some guy in mess." I didn't look up from my food, he kneeled beside me "Look I know he's been an asshole lately but you might be the only one able to stop him." I finally nod. We run down the halls to get down to the mess hall. When we reach the dining area chucks on top of a guy, clutching his shirt and screaming at him. Herc and I run to Chuck, we both manage to pull him off of the guy, and I push Chuck away from him by his chest. His face was full of anger and hatred. His body was tense beneath my hands but seemed to relax as he managed to feel my hands on him. "Chuck you need to calm down…" I spoke softly, he looked down at me relaxing more.

 He tensed once more when the guy spoke up "Yeah that's right you gotta get your daddy and your little piece of ass to stand up for you." I looked back at him, feeling Chuck get angry again. I see my brother obviously being held back by his girlfriend Alice. Chuck goes to move but I push firmly on his chest "Don't call her that!" Chuck's voice seething with anger. Herc steps beside me helping me keep him back. Noticing that the guy is one of my crew members, getting a little pissed off myself I step towards him. "How 'bout instead of focusing on other people's lives you focus on keeping that mouth of yours shut, 'cause it just cost you your job." 

The large group of personnel all snicker and laugh at the man. Two guys quickly grab him and leave the mess hall. I turn around to face Chuck, his face and hands were bruised, bleeding, and cut up. I take his arm in my hand, feeling his warm skin, I guide him back to his room. Our three combined dogs follow behind us. 

When we reach his room I open the door as he and the dogs walk in. I push him softly towards the bed. Grabbing his first aid kit, knowing exactly where it was from the countless times I'd had to patch him up. Turning back to Chuck his shirt is off as he looks down. A large bruise is starting to form on his stomach. Small cuts litter his shoulder. "God Chuck, what happened…?" I whisper making my way back to him. Trying to focus on patching him up and not the fact that he's shirtless. I sit next to him a slowly tend to his wounds. He doesn't look at me or speak. Only halfway done I get fed up "Chuck." He doesn't look up. "Chuck. Look at me.." I caress his cheek with one hand, slowly forcing his head to face me. "Chuck, what happened…?" His eyes finally met mine before quickly turning his head away from me. He shrugs slowly getting off his bed "The guy was just being a piece of shit, I just tried putting him in his place." His tone is relaxed like it was no big deal.

"I can clean the rest of my cuts, you can go." He rummaged through one of his drawers. I watched his back, trying not to gawk, but I snapped out of it. I stood up and walked towards him. "No im staying because we need to talk about you being a total ass hat." He whipped around, I could feel the heat in my face for two reasons. Anger was starting to form on my face, but my face was red from being face-to-face with him. His expression went from confusion to annoyance and anger. 

"There's nothing to talk about." His voice raised slightly, I clenched my hands, my nails digging into my palms. "Why won't you talk to me?!" I yelled at him, tears forming in my eyes "What did I do?!" He just looked away from me, knowing I wasn't going to get an answer. I pulled my dog tags out of my shirt. I swiftly grabbed his tags and pulled them off from around my neck, I slapped it down behind him. I turned around and walked to his door, opening it. "Xerxes, Baron, let's go," I called out to my dogs who jumped up and followed me out of the room.

For the next month, I completely avoided him. Herc tried to get me to talk to him but I refused. I always ate in my conn-pod. I always went to the base's gym late at night when no one was there. Jacob was worried, I could feel it through the drift, he noticed I was distracted. I was and I was miserable. Every part of me just wanted to run to Chuck and tell him how much he means to me but my mind was telling me that he didn't want me. He clearly displayed that.

On Chuck's birthday, I made sure I stayed in my room the whole day but that was short-lived when Marshall Pentecost called Jacob and me down to his office. When I entered the room I saw Chuck and herc standing by the Marshall's desk. Before I could even think about leaving Jacob was pushing me towards the front, and the door closed behind us. The marshall stood up from his desk. Herc and Jacob went by the marshall as he moved out from behind his desk. "It's been brought to my attention that you two are having some sort of problem." The marshall starts, clasping his hands in front of him. Chuck and I don't glance at each other. I keep my distance from him, Jacob is looking at me with his disappointed older brother face. "I've noticed that it has significantly affected your performance as pilots," I cross my arms in front of me, I admit I have been very tired since I've been up late working out. "So I've decided that you two will stay in Ranger Hansen's room until the problem gets solved. Hercules, Jacob, if you could please." The marshall motioned to us, but before we could protest he glared at us, "That is an order." Not wanting to get on his bad side we both let Herc and Jacob lead us to Chuck's room. 

When we arrive at the door they open it and shove us inside. The door closes quickly. We stand in silence before I take a seat on the floor near the door. He sits on his bed, head in his hands. I pull my knees up to my chest, leaning my head back and looking at the ceiling. The silence is killing me so I pull my iPod out, plug in my headphones, and select my playlist. I hit play as I push the earbud into my left ear. I tap my foot along to the music and close my eyes. I can feel Chuck's eyes shift to me but I don't look at him. Tears start to prick at the corners of my eyes. Opening my eyes I turn my head away from Chuck.

 "I-i don't know what I did to make you hate me…" I speak more to myself than to Chuck. I hear him click his tongue, and a faint curse leaves his lips. He stands up and moves to lean against the wall opposite me. "I don't hate you love." He hits the wall lightly in frustration, "It's the exact fucking opposite…" He turns to face me, as the tears run down my face. I stand up with anger, "What the fuck does that mean?!" I yell at him, I press pause on my music and take out my earbud. He takes a step forward looking away for a second, "I'm in love with you God dammit!" He yells out in frustration, raising clenched fists for a second. He turns around sighing, running his hand through his hair. 

"What…?" My voice comes out in a small squeak, not sure if I heard him. "I'm in love with you. But I heard you and your brother talking about someone, he was talking about how you wanted to screw someone you liked." He turned back to me with his hands on his hips. "I just knew you weren't talking about me and I just got so pissed. And then that guy from your crew was talking about your body at lunch and I just saw red." He explained. I heard what he said but it didn't process, I was still stuck on one thing. "You're in love with me?" I looked up at him, my face frozen in surprise. He scoffed "That's all you can focus on?" He looked away from me and I smiled softly. I quickly grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down, smashing my lips against his. 

He pulled back quickly "What are you-" but I didn't let him speak, pulling his face down again. He kissed back roughly, placing his hands on my hips, pulling me closer. I wrapped my arms around his neck. When I needed air I pulled back, a smile on my lips. "We were talking about you." He cocked his head to the side, raising his eyebrow, "Jacob and I. We were talking about you, you are the only one that has been on my mind for the past 5 months." He smirked. He stepped back for a second realizing something, he walked to his dresser. Grabbing something off of it he walked back to me. He lifted his hand, dropping the object, revealing his spare dog tags dangling from his hand. But he didn't put them around my neck, he put them around his, then took off his main pair. 

Transferring his main dog tags from his neck to my neck. I looked down at the tags, before looking up at him as he placed his hands on my hips. "Take my real ones, to show that I'm yours." He smiled softly, I got an idea, I took my dog tags off my neck, and put them over his head. "Then take mine, to show im yours." smiling he pulled me back in for another kiss. Our lips moved in sync, he tapped the back of my thigh signaling me to jump. I jumped up, his hands hooked under my legs. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pushed my back against the wall. His mouth moved from mine, down my jaw to my neck. He moves around my neck kissing, biting, and sucking marks into my skin. His hips slowly grind into mine as I moan out his name. He pulls back, admiring his work on my skin, he looks into my eyes, kissing me again. This time it's slow, sweet, and delicate. 

Pulling away I whisper to him, “Ya’know you were pretty hot when you were angry at that guy.” he smirks at my words, and he responds in a low raspy voice, his accent going straight to my core “I reckon I should get mad more often then ay?” I bite my lip slightly. “That day I fell on the treadmill, was because of you…” I slowly confessed, “You were just so hot in that tank top, all sweaty.” it seemed as if my words went straight to his pants. He nodded signaling me to keep going, “I couldn't keep my eyes off you, you do things to me that no one else can.” I lightly kissed his jaw, whispering sensually to him. “You dont know how much self-restraint it takes me to not touch you like I want to.” I sucked a few hickeys into his neck earning some groans from him. 

“You have no idea what you do to me darlin’...” his voice comes out as a groan, I moan as his hips rub into mine again. He pulls back, bringing me away from the wall and over to his bed. He sits down with me in his lap, he rubs circles into my back as he looks at me. “Im sorry I was such a dickhead to you…” he apologized softly, “You dont deserve that.” I shook my head slightly. “It's alright Chuck, people make mistakes.” I placed a kiss on his lips, “Think of me as a birthday present from me because I love you and I want to be yours.” I smiled. He chuckled softly before kissing me, “Then this is the best birthday ever,” he smirked, “and right now I just want to unwrap my present from my girlfriend.” I laughed softly, as he slowly laid me on my back on his bed. He hovers over me as I give him the consent that he pleads for with his eyes. “Go ahead, handsome.” he quickly kisses me, running his hands along my body as his knee rests between my legs. He pulls back for a quick second “You better sit your pretty little ass next to me at dinner, I've missed you a lot, princess.” I giggle softly at him, “I've missed you too, hot stuff.” he smirks before pressing his lips hungrily against mine.

[gumballavocadoharry]

Red moon: Jack Chambers;

*Mentions of periods, girl problems, Susan becoming a woman (In some way), small angst, typical period problems, some 50's reference of feminine hygiene. Back in the 50's and possibly 60's, they would call periods a curse or something like that, but in this story, it's seen as it should be: A milestone in every woman's life at some point.*

The entire week Susan had been hungry more than the usual, somewhat grumpy, tired and overall, blah. The excitement and dynamism had left Susan and instead filled her with this shell of azoic within her. The little things of simply accidentally knocking over a bottle of nail polish made Susan become a godzilla like creature. Or seeing a sad clip of a commercial made tears escape her eyes like she had seen a lost dog without a home.

Her normally slight figure had become more of a bulky one (only slightly) and her face broke out in zits, that to her were like boils of a plague. Then in the later of tonight, Susan faced stomach aches that weren't of the type she would usually get if it were a matter of simple borborygmus. Otherwise, flatulence. This was a more intense agonizing, relentless ping of annoyance. It didn't halt even once her dinner was finished. Only when she nervously asked Alice for some tylenol pills due to a 'tiny headache.' Of course, that still racked Alice's suspicions. She always fretted when one of her children was sick or hurt.

Susan fell asleep with a more slackened abdomen, not thinking of any tactics to use for soothing a crabbed pain. The next morning, Susan awoke feeling a bisection of her usual self. But she still tripped herself from her dream, ate breakfast and went to school with her little brother anyway. She decided not to bring up any more pains to her parents as she didn't need to deal with their constant worrying about it. There were more equitable things on her mind. Nothing peaked itself of normalcy in the classroom....well...at least until recess. Susan loved the monkey bars.

She didn't even mind that her sunflower yellow skirt flew above her head to reveal her matching sowed in shorts that served as a thick boarded from the class seeing her peach colored undies.

Alice had sowed them in awhile back; "If you're going to get dirty and play hard, then at least put on shorts under your skirts and dresses dear," Her mother complained, "I don't want those boys looking at something they have no business seeing."

"Oh my god! Susan, what's that on the back of your shorts!?" Peggy Mogland shouted from across the slide. Susan furrowed her eyebrows and adjusted herself upright and ran inside to the bathroom. She was met with a middling sized red spot smack on the back of her skirt that leaked onto her shorts. The bright red patch stared Susan in the eyes as she just looked on in complete horror and amazement.

The milestone her mother promised to celebrate.....Susan's first period. The day she would become a woman. Yes, Susan was finally visited by Aunt Flo.

She ran to the office as fast as she could, ignoring the sound of the bell and told Ms. Sallow, the secretary what had happened. She sent a call in to Susan's parents right away before sending Susan off to the nurse. "Congratulations honey, you have your Aunt Flo." Mrs. Quinn cheered. She handed Susan a sterile towel to wrap around herself while she waited for her parents.

Susan had hoped Alice would show up, showering her with affection and treats while welcoming her into this new world of womanhood that Susan was expected to leap into. She could almost taste the chilling sensation of chocolate ice cream, chocolate bars, fries and milkshakes to her delight. Despite the solid breakfast that was fed to her, Susan still craved a cheeseburger and fries from Freddy's.

But, her hankerings were diminished upon seeing Jack's green chevy bel air pull into the parking lot. It must be some mistake, surely mom's driving? Susan resonated with herself. After all, dad wasn't equipped to handle such a delicate and private matter like this? Jack's brunette heading popped out from the door of the car, stepping out with his black office suit and black loafers. Susan's cheeks popped in rosy tints; glazed in a more strawberry tint with added apricot.

"Susan?" Jack looked to the nurse, "Is everything okay?" Worry was a theme in his entire facial looks. "Oh, she's fine.....she started her period," Those words sent a prickle through Susan's back. It stung her cheeks even more than sour candy, "She just needs plenty of rest and maybe.....some chocolate might help along with a warm heating pad and some midol." Oh sure, talk about me like I'm some science project or freak of nature!

Jack gave a awkward smile, but didn't hesitate to comfort Susan.

"It'll be okay baby, daddy's gonna take you home now." I'm not a baby, mom said I was officially a woman once this thing happened! Susan balked in her head. Jack escorted Susan out of the school and into the backseat of his car. "Mom is at the store right now, but when she gets back, I'll tell her,"

"Thanks dad." Susan shot a light little voice of gratitude. "This must be exciting!" Jack turned the corner of the road, "My little girl...isn't so little anymore, are you Sus?" Susan pinched a tight lipped smile as her answer. "I'll make sure Roger leaves you alone." As if he's the issue right now. But Susan smiled and thanked her father for his efforts in taking care of Susan the best way he knew how. Arriving home, Susan stripped off her skirt and ducked it into the hamper before putting on a nightgown and grabbing a sanitary belt her mother had prepared for her.

Jack had submissively invited himself in to Susan's room. "I made you a heating pad, there's chocolate ice cream in the fridge and snacks in the pantry," Jack came closer, fingers tracing the smooth skin of her forehead, "Is there anything else you need?" Susan smiled weakly before shaking her head. "Okay.." Jack kissed Susan's forehead before leaving her bedroom, "I'm going back to the office. Call me know if you need something okay? Your mom will be back in a bit." Susan smiled and rested her head into her fluffy pillow.

It couldn't have been more than an hour when Susan heard the open and slam of the front door. "Susan!" It was her mother, Alice, stampeded into her bedroom with this look of absolute exhilaration. "There's my baby! My girl has her period!" She clapped, smile still opened wide like Alice as a TV show guest on a game show about to win a million dollars.

But to Alice, she did. Her little girl had entered into this new stage of adolescence. Her womanhood. Alice squeezed Susan into a hug, kissing her face all over in pride. "Oh sweetie....having a period now means that one day you'll be able to have a family." Alice rubbed Susan's cheek with the back of her hand. "Maybe we should go over it again-" "Mom!" Alice petted Susan's hair, "I know...I'm sorry. It's just.....you're not a baby anymore Susan. I mean, you'll always be my little girl but, this is an exciting new stage for you and....I'm just so proud of you and excited for you too!"

Alice wrapped her arms around Susan, talking with her about what to expect from her periods. "If you have any questions, just ask me...OH! did you remember to put on a sanitary belt?!" Susan blushed. "Yes mom," "Show me how you do it-"

"Mom! I mean....I am 11 now." A whine slipped from her chambré aggression. Alice kissed Susan's cheek before leaving her bedroom. "Call me if you need me." Susan stared at the blank pasty ceiling. She just zeroed in on the typical sounds of the hallway; clicks of Alice's heels, the echo of her presence while she folded clothes and put them away in the laundry bin and Susan's own breathing.

It wasn't long until she heard the hollering of her pixy brother. "Guess who aced his test!" "Shh, Roger...your sister's upstairs resting." Alice took Roger aside and explained to him the very sensitive sentiments of Susan's condition. "Roger, remember to be thoughtful. It's like if you had a cold and wanted everyone to be quiet because you were resting....well same thing with Susan. And don't tease her either."

Roger agreed.

Instead, he found it best to ignore Susan until she would come to him whenever she felt it was right. "I'm home!" Jack later cheered from the doorway. "And how's our little pumpkin doing?" Susan groaned, turning away from the door in irritation. "She's resting right now....I think she just wants space. I was like that when I first started my period." Alice grew in pride, head fluttering her young aged self into a mirror of Susan.

Jack carefully tiptoed into Susan's bedroom, sneaking a glance of his sleeping beauty. "Hey kitten," Jack seated himself next to Susan, "How are you feeling?" Jack had left prematurely, making sure Susan was comfortable before taking off for work again. "A little gross, but overall, fine." Jack kissed Susan's forehead. "Let me or mom know if there's anything you need." Jack petted Susan's head before leaving back to the kitchen.

It was later on that night, Susan snacked on chocolate ice cream and a cheeseburger with fries that were put in the fridge just for her and to wash it down with a glass of iced tea. Susan heated up her dinner before sneaking back up to her bedroom. Stuffing her face into insalubrious delicious meal. Susan had skipped out on dinner with her family; laying serenely wrapped in her yellow blanket, nursing the heating pad on her tummy. Alice made sparsely invites into her bedroom, sharing stories of her first period, rubbing Susan's legs, thumbing over Susan's warm cheeks.

But this was Susan's little oasis. Her bedroom where she could enjoy her little meal and be free from the motherly involvement of Alice. Susan munched away with her cheeseburger and fries, savoring the moment of her first period.

Sorry if the ending is a little cheesy :)))))