#actually having her giving birth is just cruel

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)

Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.

While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.

CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut

To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess

Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂

*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me

*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!

You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.

You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.

You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.

It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.

A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.

A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.

For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.

Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.

Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.

“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”

You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.

Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.

You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.

You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.

You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.

You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.

Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.

He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.

He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.

The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.

Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.

Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.

When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”

Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.

The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.

Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”

Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.

“Sick? For how long?”

Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”

“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”

“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.

Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.

Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?

Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.

“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.

Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.

Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.

Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.

If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.

Shadowheart be damned.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!

You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.

You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.

You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-

“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”

“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”

“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”

Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.

“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.

You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.

Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?

Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.

Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.

It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.

You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.

“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”

“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”

Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.

“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”

“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”

Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!

Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”

“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”

“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.

Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”

“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”

“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”

Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.

You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”

Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.

You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.

“A girl?”

His question breaks the air.

“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”

“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.

A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.

“You don’t want to be involved?”

Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.

“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”

You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”

His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.

“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”

You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.

“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”

Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.

“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”

Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.

You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.

Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”

“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”

“What wish?”

It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

“Right… that.”

The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.

“Astarion-“

“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”

You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.

“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”

You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.

“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”

You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.

Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”

Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.

“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”

“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #karlach #bg3 #astarion x f! reader #astarion x f!tav #pregnancy #astarion acunin

[justagirlwholikesadam]

His Queen: Nameday

A/n: This isn’t a part two to the story, His Queen but more like a little frame story. I do hope you enjoy it. If it’s liked then I’ll start thinking about actually doing part two. Enjoy! -L

Summary: After some time has passed since the birth of Leonidas, you were celebrating your nameday when you been craving Sandor’s touch.

Warning: Joffrey being Joffrey, NSFW, SFW, smut, Sandor is a sweetheart, self conscious after giving birth,we still giving Joffrey that milk of the poppy😌, pussy eating, having sex but there is a person in the room, Sandor Clegane x FEM!Reader

If you haven’t read His Queen, click on the title.

Word Count: 3.7K

»»————-　♡　————-««

The great hall was filled with people who were invited for the celebration. It was your nameday and Joffrey had thrown a huge feast for you after having a tournament. To be honest it was mostly for him, you weren’t fond of tourneys, seeing two men fighting for no reason other than measuring their cock and seeing who’s better at fighting didn’t entertain you as it did for Joffrey. Plus it meant Sandor had to fight. You didn’t like seeing Sandor fighting. You didn’t want to see him get hurt. 

The feast was well and you gave your thanks to everyone who wished you a good nameday. You had been glancing over at Sandor who was at the entrance of the hall looking around making sure everything was safe. When he caught your eye, you bit your bottom lip. He wink at you, that was a sign. Sandor and you had made up different signs to talk to each other. Scratching the chin was a sign to meet up in the library. Two nods were a no. A wink was a yes. Biting the bottom lip was a sign to meet up tonight. 

After the birth of Leonidas you haven’t had the chance to be intimate with Sandor. You missed his touch and his lips on you. You missed the attention and his gentleness. You were so busy looking at Sandor that you didn’t realize that Joffrey, who was next to you, was talking to you. You jumped in your seat when you felt a painful pinch on your leg. You let out a wince and look over at Joffrey with a frown. You met his piercing blue eyes glaring at you. 

“Next time pay attention to me when I speak to you.” He scolded you like a child. 

“Apologies, your grace.” You said lowering your eyes to the floor. This pleases him and he lets out a sigh before repeating. 

“The maester has assured me that you are ready and healed. Tonight I’ll have you.” Your stomach dropped at his words. You have been declining Joffrey to bed him. Giving him excuses that you aren’t healed yet. Some days you tell him that you have your blood moon and he becomes disgusted.  You have gotten as far as going to the maester and telling him the same thing. Your luck just ran out.

“Very well.” You told him. You massaged your leg that he pinched under the table. You had to find a way to slip some milk of the poppy in his drink before he goes to the chambers tonight. 

Joffrey had gotten up from his seat to speak with some lord and you quickly looked over to your left to call one of your ladies in waiting. She came to you right away. Her eyes widen when you mention to her to retrieve milk of the poppy for you quickly and in secret. When she didn’t move right away, you gently held her hand. 

“The king has requested for me to bed him tonight. You know the type of man he is. I will not refuse my king but it’s the pain that I can’t endure.” 

“You should have it right away, your grace.” She said before bowing her head. Everyone knew how Joffrey was, what kind of man he is. He was a bully and downright cruel. You got used to it, the pinches, the insults and the abuse. You’re grateful that he didn’t do any such thing to your son. 

Looking ahead you looked at Sandor once more. He made everything better. He was the reason why you continue on. He gave you the most wonderful gift of all, your son. When you couldn’t be with Sandor, you stayed with your son at all times. His eyes were a reminder of him. His kind heart was another thing like Sandor. Under that cold and hard exterior was a kind man. You felt like the luckiest woman in the seven kingdoms to experience Sandor’s kindness and love. 

You looked away when your lady in waiting returned with a goblet of wine. She removed the cap of a glass vessel containing the milk of the poppy. “Everything. The whole thing.” 

“Are you certain? This will put you right to sleep.” 

“Exactly.” You told her watching her emptying the vessel into the wine behind you and away from everyone’s view. Handing you the wine, she hid the vessel between her breasts and bowed her head before leaving. 

You turned back and saw Joffrey was walking towards you. You placed it next to his goblet. 

“Celebration should end soon. Can’t wait to have you.” Joffrey said, sitting back down next to you. 

“Neither can I.” You lied through your teeth. You felt one of his hands on top of your lap. Bile started to come up your throat when his hand was going under your gown. You grabbed his wrist and leaned over at him, getting close to his face.

“Drink wine. I like the taste of it from your tongue.” You whispered to him, making him grin. You handed him the goblet of wine that contains the milk of the poppy. 

You watched as he drank it all in one gulp. 

That night you were staring at yourself in the mirror, you can hear Joffrey light snores in the back. His uncle, Jamie, dragged him into bed a few minutes ago. You had left the party to prepare yourself for Sandor and tuck Leonidas into bed early. Jamie plopped Joffrey on the bed and bid you goodnight as he left. You leaned over at Joffrey making sure he was dead asleep after Jamie left, you made sure he was. You slapped him across the face, a hard slap. You smiled when he didn’t wake up. It worked, you wouldn’t be sleeping with Joffrey tonight. 

You traced the patterns of your nightgown while looking at the mirror. You haven’t been intimate with Sandor for a while. You were nervous and self conscious. Your body had changed and you wondered if Sandor would still want you. You heard a slight rumble and looked over by the wall near the fireplace. The tapestry hung from the wall slightly moved and a hand appeared behind it. You smiled because you recognized that large hand. 

The castle of King’s Landing had many hidden secret passageways and tunnels, many didn’t know about this but Sandor did. He knew the castle like the back of his hand. He had found a passage that led straight to your bed chambers. Sandor found you smiling moving the tapestry aside, he walked inside. He saw you walking towards him. Sandor wore a white tunic shirt and black trousers. He had his sword with him in case of anything. 

“Happy nameday.” He tells you as he leans down to kiss you. You cupped his face with your hands as you deepened the kiss. 

“Thank you.” You said against his lips. You pulled away and led Sandor to the loveseat by the fireplace. Sandor sat down and opened his legs as he placed his sword near the love seat.

“I’m heavy.” You whined making him shake his head in disbelief. 

“Nonsense.” He replies as he makes you sit down on his lap. You wrapped an arm around his neck and he wrapped his arms around you. You embraced him and his warmth. You missed this, being close to him. You couldn’t do this with Joffrey. 

“The cunt is asleep?” Sandor whispered looking over his shoulder. 

“Aye.” You answered him as you kissed his cheek. “I gave him a good slap to make sure too.” Sandor chuckled at you. 

Sandor’s warm hand rubbed your back as you hugged him. He moans softly as you kiss his neck, you tugs the laces from the necklace. Your fingers immediately went to touch his chest, feeling the soft and thick chest hair. 

“I missed you.” You tell him.  

“Me too.” He told you, giving your hip a gentle squeeze. 

“I got you something.” You raise your eyebrows at Sandor. 

“You did?” You asked him happily. He nodded at you as he grabbed something from his front pocket of his trousers.

The ring looked so tiny between his fingers. It was a simple silver band with an oak leaf filigree pattern around the band. 

“It’s not much. You don’t have-.” You took the ring from his hands with a smile. 

“I love it. Thank you.” You cut him off as you gave him a kiss on his scar cheek. Sandor doesn’t say anything but has his own smile as he watches you excitedly slide the ring down with your index finger, it fitted perfectly. He knew it would, he had tied a string around your finger while you were dozing off the last time he was with you. 

You showed Sandor the ring and his smile grew big. You showered him with kisses on his face. “It’s beautiful.” 

You kept admiring the ring, not noticing that Sandor was staring at you with such admiration. 

“You’re beautiful. Breathtaking.” You looked over at him with a small smile blushing really hard. Sandor cups your cheek, he pulls you in for another kiss. He leans his forehead against yours to catch his breath. 

“Take me to bed.” You tell him as you playfully pull on his grown beard. 

You let out a squeal when Sandor gathered you in his arms and got up from the loveseat. With one arm around your lower back and the other in the crook of your knees. Sandor carefully carried you to the bed, his eyes darted to Joffrey then back at you. He knew Joffrey was asleep but he still was a bit nervous. He didn't want to know, he didn't even want to think what would happen if Joffrey caught him and you. He worried for your safety and Leonidas. 

Sandor laid you down on your spot, he was glad that the bed was big. Enough room for three people. Sandor knelt between your legs as he took his shirt off, throwing it aside. You loved watching his muscles flex every time he did that. You grabbed a hold of one of his big arms pulling him towards you. You lean up to meet his lips. Sandor couldn’t stop touching you, your legs, your hips when he touched your stomach he felt you tensed up. He frowns but ignores it, he pulls away to kiss your neck down your chest. He goes to help you get rid of the gown when you tell him to stop. 

“I want to leave it on.” Sandor pulls away and looks down at you. 

“Did he hurt you again?” He asked worriedly, his hands began to clench. He had seen the bruises on your body before.  You shook your head and decided to tell him the truth. 

“My body his changed, Sandor. I’m not what I used to look like.” He notices you looking away from his gaze. 

“I don’t care what your body looks like. You had a babe, my babe. Your body should be worshiped everyday.” You felt like crying at his words and he noticed it. He leans over you. 

“You don’t have to take it off. I won’t force you.” He tells you. “I would like to see your body. I want to kiss every single part of it.” 

You never shy away from Sandor before. You knew he wasn’t lying. Sandor wasn’t the type to lie, he would say it straight to your face, the good and the bad . “Help me.” You ask him. He helps you sit up and grab the bottom of the sleeping gown as you raise your arm up. 

You look like an angel he thinks as you laid back down, he immediately leans over you, his mouth goes to your chest. Kissing it, savoring your skin. You moan as you feel his tongue dragging down on your sternum, his hand laches on your breast. While the other has his mouth on. Sandor’s cock grew hard, your body indeed changed and he loved it. You were more sensitive, you moaned as he sucked on your nipple. You were fuller, as his hands went down, he squeezed your hips. You threw your head back when Sandor continued to make his way down kissing your tummy. 

“There’s that pretty cunt I missed so much.” He says when he’s between your legs. You look down at him and smile as he kisses your inner thighs. Biting your bottom lip when he looks at you. 

“She missed me?” Sandor asked and you nodded. 

He kisses your mound, enjoying the scent of your musk. He curses under his breath when he feels you're already wet. He drives his face into your cunt. His tongue licking your slit. You cry out when his nose hits your clit as he eats you out. Sandor is practically growing like an animal as he eats your pussy. He hooked his arms under your legs parting them wider so he could bury his face against your pussy. 

You cry out his name when Sandor slowly licks your entrance. Sandor was breathing heavily, he had to catch his breath for a moment. His face is wet with your slick, it’s coated on his beard. He kisses your throbbing clit as he breathes. He brings one of his hands to part your plump and soaked lips so he has better access to your clit. Sandor dips his finger inside of you slowly, he doesn’t want to hurt. He wants to get you ready for his cock. 

He smirks when you curse as he slowly adds another. His cock twitches when he feels your spongy sweet spot.  He rubs your clit with his fat thumb as he watches you arch your back. 

With your head thrown back and eyes closed you were feeling you were going to explode. It’s been a while since you had cum. Opening your eyes, you turned your head to the right, you saw Joffrey next to you. You had forgotten all about the blonde. He was still sound asleep, he had his face turned to you. You couldn't help but grow more aroused by this. Joffrey is sleeping next to you while Sandor is eating and fingering your cunt. You thought about what would have happened if he saw his wife, the queen getting eaten out by his rugged guard. 

“You’re close. I feel it. Cum now.” Sandor tells you as he rubs harder on your clit. Him demanding you was what sent you off. You came hard on his hand while staring at Joffrey. Sandor smiles as he licks your cum off his fingers. He gives kitten lick to your cunt enjoying as you twitch under him. 

Sandor stares at you as you catch your breath. He gets out of the bed and takes his boots out along with his trousers. “Fuck.” He moans to himself at the sight of your cunt as he gets on the bed between your legs. 

“Let me return the favor.” You said with a smile but Sandor pushes your legs apart so he fits in between them. 

“Another day. I need you now.” You continue to look up at Sandor as he traced your bottom lip with his index finger. Your brows knit together in confusion when he didn't say anything. He kept staring at you, he noticed your expression. 

“This is the only time that I get to see your face up close. Your pretty face.” Sandor takes notes of your face. Your brows, your nose, your lips and your eyes. He admires you and he feels like his heart is jumping out of his chest by the way you look up at him. You grabbed a hold of his wrist and brought the palm of his hand to your lips, kissing it. 

He says your name before leaning down to kiss you, your legs wrap around his waist. You let out a whine when he feels him slowly sliding himself in of you, stretching you wide open. He feels your nails digging his back when he starts thrusting in and out of you slowly, he kisses you to cover your moans. As much he wanted to hear you cry out for his cock, both of you had to keep quiet.

It’s hard for you to keep quiet, you couldn't not when his girthy cock is splitting you open. He fills you so much it's hard to contain the moan. His fat head's tapping against your womb and you feel your arousal sliding down to your ass every time he thrusted out of you. Sandor bites his bottom lip to the point he breaks the skin, he licks his bottom bloody lip. The taste of copper and your tight cunt around his cock was becoming too much. He’s on you, hiding his face between your neck and shoulder as he ruts deep into you. The bed is creaking every time he thrust inside you, you're left out of breath every time he slams inside of you. 

Sandor groans when he feels your wall tighten around him, he grinds his hips into circles making you cry out in pleasure. The sound of his heavy balls hitting against your ass, the sound of his breathy moans against your neck. 

“Want you to have my babe again.” Sandor tells you against his neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulder holding on for dear life. 

“Heard what the maester said to Joffrey. You're mine. You're all mine. Only having my babes.” You let out a whine when Sandor pounded into you with a grunt. 

“Mine, pretty queen is all mine.” Sandor curls the bedsheet under both of you, in his fist as he feels you cuming on his dick. 

“Came all over my cock because I said you were mine.” You nodded, not able to speak as you kept holding onto Sandor. You knew Sandor was near, his thrusts were slowing down. You wanted him to cum just like you did. You wanted to make him feel good. 

“Give me another babe.” Sandor whines to you. “I want another babe. Your babe.” You cry out to him.

“I only want to have your kids. No one else.” Something snaps into Sandor’s and his thrusts turn erratic. He’s panting heavily now as he fucks you harder. He's going to give you another kid. He’s going to put a child inside of you because he’s yours and you’re his. He looks at you as he continues. You have teary eyes and you're moaning his name out.  

“Ah-h fuck-fuck.” Sandor cries out as he cums deep inside your womb filling you up. You let out a deep breath when he completely drops his weight on you. He was about to move when you wrapped your limbs tighter around him. You didn’t want him to leave yet, you wanted him inside of you forever. 

It was a few minutes and he still remained inside of you. You had begun to rub your hands up and down his back, he’s practically purring when you lightly scratched his back. You can feel the scars on his face against your neck, you didn’t mind one bit. You call out his name softly and he looks at you. 

He shuts his eyes when you start to kiss his face, kissing each inch of it. You even kissed his bushy beard. Both of you knew time was ticking, as much both of you wanted to stay together for the entire night. It is impossible. Joffrey might walk up or someone might come in. Sandor notices you’re drifting off. He pushes himself up and kisses you just like you had done with him. He’s so gentle with the kisses. 

Sandor is stalling, he knew he was. He should have gotten dressed by now and on his way to his own chambers but he couldn’t. You had just milked his cock dry, you looked so beautiful under him. He doesn’t say goodbye to you, you feel asleep the moment he removes himself from you. He’s standing by your side naked as he brings the sheets and blankets up to your body. Covering you and tucking you into bed. 

He gives you one last look before quickly getting dressed and walking towards the loveseat to get his sword. He looks over at the bed to see you and Joffrey sleeping. 

You don't remember when you fell asleep in his arms but you woke up by the sound of Joffrey's voice. You quickly remember that you had forgotten about Joffrey’s clothes when you woke up and looked over at Joffrey. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw he was naked like you, Sandor must have done it before he left. Joffrey was sitting up rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands. He was groaning and moaning about having a headache. 

“I shall have the servants get a maester.” You told him softly. You were about to get up when Joffrey leaned over you. Pushing you back down on the bed, Joffrey shook his head. 

“Did we?” You nodded at his question. He seemed happy about it and leaned down next to you, prop up with one arm on the bed. 

“Mother has been pestering me about another child. Lay down and don't let my cum escape.” He looks over at you and pulls the sheet down exposing your breasts. He stares at the love bites with a smirk like he was proud of his work. If he only knew. You were going to cover yourself when Joffrey removed the sheets completely off making you gasp. 

“Hold still.” He commands you. You obeyed him, you didn't feel like getting hit this early in the morning. You tensed up when you felt one of his hands go between your legs. 

He feels the aftermath of your love making with Sandor. Sandor’s thick cum is dripping out of you. Joffrey nods and you bite the inside of your cheek as he rubs your outer lips with Sandor’s and your cum. Your eyes widen when he puts his fingers in his mouth, licking it clean. 

“We taste good together.” He tells you before getting up from the bed to get his robe to start his day

“We do, your grace.” You said as you looked up at the ceiling tugging on the sheets to cover yourself. 

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #games of thrones #games of thrones fanfiction #sandor the hound clegane #sandor clegane fanfic #games of thrones x reader #sandor clegane smut #smut #rory mccann

[ystrike1]

Savage Castle - By 별보라 (8.5/10)

The false King is weak. Bad for the nation, but never fear. The true King has not given up. He is in hiding. He lives as a servant, and his master is a pathetic woman. A stupid young girl who is obsessively possessive. Staying by her side was the perfect cover. Whoops. He's madly, mutually obsessed too.

Else tried very hard to be kind, but it never worked out for her. Being a good daughter brought her only pain, and suffering. Her brother, the heir, died. Her mother, her father's beloved, can no longer give birth. She is the last child they can rely on. The only one they can marry off, and sadly her noble line isn't that famous.

Her parents eternally mourn the death of her brother. She is inferior. He was the one they wanted. Else is very sickly, and she's not very smart or charming. The only good thing about her is her looks. I'm not saying her parents are the worst parents. They don't beat her or anything. Heck, her father lets her enjoy her toxic servant lover before marriage.

It's the expectation.

Else is expected to bear a child, even though it will likely kill her. That's all her parents want from her too. They don't give her love. They played with their beloved dead son, but never her. This is the fate of a girl child in a middling noble family. If she had more siblings maybe her life would be happier, but being an only child is not her fault. It is not her fault that her parents only see her as a tool, when they're in love! It's so cruel. The Lady and Lord are in a loving marriage, but they never spared a drop of affection for their surviving child.

Even though Else is WILLING to marry and give up her life, just to please them.

Else and "Ian" (he's actually the rightful King Sybil. Dethroned at age six. The country is currently being run by a corrupt Duke)

They were friends.

When Ian became a servant he didn't expect to make a friend. He didn't want to. Else was a total brat to him. She slapped him when she wanted attention....but when he showed her kindness she showed him kindness in return.

It was all she wanted....until she grew up and her need for affection grew too.

Ok.

Else believes Ian is in a relationship with Ivana. A maid.

Are you ready?

Ian and Else have been bed partners for 2 years, as of the beginning of the story.

Else thinks she is the villain.

She is stealing Ian from his true love, Ivana, out of desire. She sees herself as a monster. Jealousy consumes her. She hits Ivana if the maid ever dares to appear in front of her.

Ivana is secretly a Knight who belongs to Sybil. She is extremely loyal and extremely obsessed with putting her King back on the throne. Her real name is Leina.

Leina believes the Else will be killed off when the King rises back up to his rightful place. Leina sees Else as an annoying, immature, pervert and frankly she's kinda right, but she idolizes Sybil. She's way more annoying than Else.

Else gradually becomes a sympathetic protagonist. She wants to be kind. Her life is just too harsh to allow it.

Leina is a sadistic knight who daydreams about beheading every enemy in the King's shadow. Her extreme black and white mindset is a big red flag.

Sybil is completely willing to sleep with Else. He doesn't tell her that. He lets her suffer. He lets her believe he loves "Ivana". He encourages her jealousy on purpose.

He likes it.

When she hits him he thinks to himself...

"This feels like a kiss."

Sybil is a giant yandere, but he doesn't realize that for a while. He thinks he will leave Else behind for his throne, but his obsession gets worse, and he drags her to the capital.

He encourages her deepest, darkest desires.

He doesn't want her to get married because of her fathers will.

He doesn't want her to love her family at all.

He won't admit it, but he's been waiting.

He wants Else to beg him for salvation.

He wants her to say she loves him more than her family.

She doesn't say that, because deep down she's still naive as hell.

Else knows she must end their relationship. Ian is a servant. Being with her in public isn't an option for him. She took him as her lover. He didn't have a choice. She's been in agony.

Thinking about how to right her wrongs, before she marries.

Her marriage nears, and she's excited.

She wants to show Ian her sincerity. She doesn't expect him to love her. She thinks he hates her.

She blesses his marriage.

Else opens a jewelry box. She's been saving up little gems and coins for him....and Ivana.

Right before her wedding she frees him of his slave status. She tells him to live happily with his true love. She thanks him for being a bright spot in her lonely life. She says his fake love helped her survive.

He gets angry. So angry. I can't even include pictures, because he gets extremely violent. Obviously he takes her after he takes power. Conveniently she's pregnant with his baby too.

Sybil isn't an angel for his beloved. He's a rough guy who's been doing espionage crimes to reclaim his throne since he was like...twelve? Else is his polar opposite, but he loves her. He insults Else, because she's not evil enough. He can't believe she's still willing to go to another man, even though she loves him.

Her logic shatters. He forgets that Else was supposed to be a game. A bed parter to play with before his crown returns to his hand.

He wants her too.

More than she wants him.

The Queen, and the crown.

He'll take both.

#Savage Castle #yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon

[genderkoolaid]

hey i wanted to get this off my chest and i feel like u r someone who will get it! im an out trans guy and i work with mostly cis queer women, and the other day a trans man (wearing a trans shirt- we chatted :3) shopped in the store and afterwards one of my coworkers (who is my close friend and dating a transmasc person and i trusted her) LITERALLY said she could tell he was a trans guy “because he was too nice and trans guys who are nice are so obviously not actually men” and went on and on. she tried to walk it back a few minutes later with “i mean they’re the real men and cis guys aren’t” i didn’t say anything (i’m a coward) but like fuck. cis women are so comfortable calling us fake men and acting like that’s not a horrific thing to say. like it’s a compliment even. sorry for the rant i just feel so gross and stupid and evil for being a trans guy around women !!!!

need people to understand that "i can clock trans men because they're so nice and docile and polite" is one of those complementary-stereotypes-are-still-harmful things.

for one its kinda giving "women are kinder because they are biologically predisposed to caretaking and motherhood, so they are naturally kind and generous because thats how their brains work :)" misogyny. Obviously a lot of trans men do act differently than cis men because we had to personally confront toxic masculinity and what it means to be a man & likely personally experience (or have in the past) things like misogyny and menstruation. Similarly, a lot of women historically have been motivated to help others because they wanted justice and cared about others lives. But there are also trans men who are huge assholes and women who are deeply selfish and cruel, and a lot of how people are is based on their choices in reaction to the situation they find themselves in by birth, not the situation itself.

Its like. saying "Ashkenazi Jews are biologically smarter than others" sounds like a compliment, and someone might even say it trying to be genuinely nice. But its rooted deeply in antisemitism & notions that Jews are supervillains who could overpower White Christians. There's a difference between "Jewish culture values education and study" and "Jews have higher IQs, because they are essentially a different species, and I totally don't mean this in a Nazi way and if you think that, maybe you're the real antisemite!" Same thing here. If your "compliment" is othering to the people you are complimenting, then you should rethink it.

#m. #ask box #experiences with transandrophobia

[romanoffsbish]

Silent Night

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Natasha gives you the worst news possible, you are stuck with her on Christmas Eve when you had made plans with another… (Blurb / WC: 1k)

Warnings: Hurt / Comfort | Grief / Loss | Hopeful Ending

Natasha stood there frozen, her body near perfect in stature to the naked eye, but to any other spy they'd notice the slump in her stance. She was crestfallen in sync with you as you stumbled back and shook your head from side to side, negating her command.

——

"No!" Natasha leapt forward then, her arm quick to wrap around your waist, hand firmly gripping you by the hip as her other covered your trembling lips. The look of genuine grief and budding betrayal in your eyes was like a sword through the assassin's heart but she remained steadfast as she grunted, "stay quiet agent."

For a moment you were stunned into silence, it wasn't like the redhead treated you differently, but you had hoped she would. That she'd let the heartless facade go and help you to escape this nightmare. You needed to get home, which right now was a sterile white room in a rundown hospital because the salary of a shield agent still wasn't enough to save the woman you needed.

A girl never stops needing the love of her mother.

Natasha understood you, she knew the pain behind your eyes well, you were losing something important.

She knew what you were saying; you couldn't stay in this run down cabin with her until the coast was clear. Fury's orders were of no significance to you when you had a very important person waiting on you back home, which was currently thousands of miles away. Tony needed to send a rescue jet now, it didn't matter if lives were lost, you wouldn't really mind if it were your own and that terrified the stoic woman.

The words never left your lips but she could see it in your eyes that you wanted out. Of the cabin, yes, but also of this life you were mindlessly walking through.

Natasha knew something had changed for you about six months ago, you'd stopped smiling at her then. It was such a simple gesture on your end, persistent too as she never returned it, always just walked right by.

Natasha was trying to keep her distance from you as she worried your spark would be dulled by her pain.

There was so much she'd yet to process and she was not willing to take you down her path of darkness. The loss of your smile was actually what forced her into the darkness and ultimately what got her through it. She would picture it in her worst moments and find peace.

A solace she so desperately wanted to be for you, deep down she knew you'd need someone to hold you and she refused to let anyone else take this spot, it was hers. The protectiveness didn't fade but her resolve softened as she felt your tears beneath her fingers.

"Natasha, I have to go," you cried as her hand slipped and you attempted to shove her away. "I know..." Yet her hold didn't falter, it only tightened, "but you can't."

"Please," you cried, fists pummeled into her chest but she didn't falter. Her lips were gently raised and your eyes froze on the gesture you had always wanted from her. You were wrong for hitting her but she merely offered you reassurance; the permission to continue.

It broke you from your rage and set free the truth as you fell into her hold instead and the redhead was quick to lower your bodies. You wailed just the same as you did when your mother gave birth to you, giving you the life she'd lose tonight; on the eve of Christmas.

Twas her favorite holiday, it carried a nostalgia from her childhood that she sprinkled into yours. The best parts of course, she was that for you, if you could you'd sacrifice decades of yours for just another with her.

Life and death are intimately bonded, woven together as opposites because it can't be forgotten that what has a start must also come to an end; a cruel twisted fate.

The hopeful would call it a miracle, but you were more akin to a realist. It was easy to see that both sides offered truth, the reality lied beneath the romanticism.

There was good and bad in everyone's story, you felt it in the air as your mother's words presented falsely. The ding of your phone was unnecessary, just like the '🕊️' your sister had texted you. You felt the tether snap.

Your mother told you she wouldn't leave until she knew you were alright, which was not exactly rooted in the present moment but rather the foreshadowed fate.

The ghost pressure of a pair of lips was pressed against your forehead, and you whined in your sob induced sleep, Natasha lent down and kissed your skin in hopes that it would soothe your broken heart, even just a bit.

A smile adorned her face when you nuzzled further into her embrace, she pulled a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around your bodies. It didn't bother her that her night would be spent on the floor, with her back up against the edge of the couch, it wasn't ideal for sleeping but she didn't plan on doing that anyways.

The only plans she had were to sip on her tea and watch the rise and fall of your chest, "I've got you..."

Natasha didn't believe in much, the woman has stood up against aliens but she still dismissed the fables of  ghosts, werewolves and vampires (she was team Alice).

The redhead was trained to believe what she sees, and it wasn't until tonight that she could cross out another.

A gust of wind blew over the both of you shortly after the woman had confirmed her desires to be with you. Three simple words that carried a deeper message. A smirk overtook the redheads face as she felt a warmth she'd never felt before, there was no other explanation.

"It's nice to meet you Miss Y/L/N; she's safe here."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff hurt comfort #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #soft ​natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff blurb #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #gxg

[spacebarbarianweird]

Memories of Innocence

Synopsis: Astarion sees snippets of his own past through the reverie.

Tags: comfort, dadstarion, dhampirs, reverie, Astarion's memories

Alethaine's age: 3 days

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

The newborn girl squeals demanding to be held and fed.

Astarion leans on the cradle where three-day-old Alethaine cries loudly stretching her arms and legs.

“So, what is it now?” Astarion smiles while taking a thick blanket to wrap around his daughter. He can’t allow her to feel cold—unfortunately, his vampire body isn’t really warm. “Your mother has just gone to sleep.”

Tiriel has been exhausted—first, labor and then a newborn who needs all her attention and also requires her body to survive. Astarion sees a weird irony in the fact that he first fed on Tiriel’s blood and now Alethaine feeds on Tiriel’s milk.

Astarion has been enjoying being a father so far. He loves being with the newborn all the time when Tiriel is asleep—and waking her up only for breastfeeding. He even likes the dirty side of having a child, and he is surprised at himself that it doesn’t annoy him.

It’s his child. His baby daughter.

Elves are so infertile every child is a blessing, and since the process is almost painless (well at least it’s a painless process for an elven mother—Astarion will never forget Tiriel’s cries). Usually, the birth of elves is welcomed by the whole community, and every member of said community wants to hold the newborn. And elves remember that moment even if their whole childhood is forgotten. 

Alethaine was welcomed to the world only by her parents and a halfling midwife. Will she remember her mother touching her ears, so different from her own? Or Astarion’s ugly crying?

Is she even an elf, after all, Astarion wonders.

Alethaine squeals again and Astarion carries her to the next room where, behind a shut door, Tiriel is fast asleep.

“Tiriel, love, I hate to wake you up, but she wants to eat.” Astarion enters the room and sits at the edge of the wooden bed.

Tiriel sighs, still half asleep, and takes Alethaine in her arms. Astarion is mesmerized by how Tiriel tugs the collar of her shirt freeing the swollen breast and puts Alethaine in front of it. How a nipple disappears in the baby’s mouth and how her ears start twitching with every suckling movement.

It’s the nineteenth time Astarion has seen it. 

And he wants to remember every one of these sessions.

“Are you tired?” Tiriel asks. Her eyes are half-open. “And when was the last time you ate?”

“My sweet, I can spend a few days without meditating and eating. I am a vampire-elf, after all,” he chuckles, but the next moment he realizes he actually wouldn’t mind to trance a bit.

Tiriel yawns. “Give me a couple of hours and I will take care of her,” Tiriel stretches her left hand to play with Astarion’s hair.

He closes his eyes concentrating on her touch. 

Sometimes he thinks that’s all an illusion. A cruel trick of his mind. He is still locked in the dungeon, or worse, buried alive in a tomb. But he opens his eyes and sees his beloved feeding their newborn child.

And they are both real.

“Do you think she is normal?” Astarion asks. “I mean… I don’t mind if she is a dhampir, not at all! But do you think she is a mortal like you?”

“Honestly as far as I'm concerned her current species is ‘baby’", Tiriel sounds exhausted. “I think we will know, sooner or later.”

Astarion leans to kiss Tiriel. She answers him with the same passion she has had for the last twenty years.  

He breaks up the kiss and pecks Tiriel’s cheek. 

“A couple more hours, all right?” she whispers.

Astarion nods and then picks up the blanket.

“Astarion, I understand it’s winter and she is a newborn, but don’t you think it’s too warm?” Tiril notices as Astarion wraps the baby.

“I am as cold as a dead man,” Astarion says. “I don’t want her to suffer in my hands.”

Tiriel nods as if suddenly remembering Astarion is a vampire. “If she falls asleep and you need to reverie, come to me. I suffer without your hands on me,” she smiles adjusting the shirt.

Astarion places the baby into the cradle in the other room. Alethaine stares at him with her eyes wide open. 

“I am very lucky,” he mutters. “You don’t understand it, but I am very lucky” he adds in elven.

He is lucky he was outside during the nauthiloid attack. He is lucky he was so paralyzed with fear he didn’t try to run away. He is lucky that the mindflayer, the Emperor, decided Tiriel could somehow benefit from carrying a tadpole in her head. 

He is lucky Tiriel didn’t push him away.

He is lucky they both survived. 

Astarion doesn’t believe in destiny, but it has been such a wild sequence of events leading to him standing in this nursery he finds it all unreal.

He notices stains on his once-white shirt, takes it off, and tosses it to the same pile of dirty fabric on the floor. Astarion will wash all these nappies and clothes later and, no, he isn’t going to let Tiriel do that.

Astarion sits on the floor, pressing his back against the wall. It seems like he can meditate to recover a bit. The last time he managed to do so was a few days earlier and it was interrupted by Tiriel’s muffled cry as she was pressing her hands to the belly. 

Alethaine starts squealing. Her little face is red and her toothless mouth is wide open.

“What is it now?” Astarion asks. It may be the first time he is really tired of hearing her screams. “You are fed and still pretty clean.”

Alethaine squeals again.

Astarion picks up the blanket to take the baby in his arms, but the moment the fur touches her she yells even louder.

“What do you want, Alethaine? You don't like the blanket? Too bad, I can’t hold you without it!”

Another scream. Gods, how is it even possible for such a small child to make such loud noises?!

“My hands are cold, princess. You won't like them. I am not warm like your mother.”

The girl stretches her arms to him. Astarion feels a wave of desperation—it’s just unfair to think about it. His life was taken away from him, his youth, his childhood memories, his family, and even his past lives, if elves are right about reincarnation.

And now he can’t even hold his own daughter.

“Princess, I am going to take you but don’t complain,” he lifts her tiny body and puts Alethaine on his own bare chest. “See? I am as cold as the grave I’ve dug myself out of.”

Alethaine stops crying.

Astarion stares at her in disbelief as the newborn buries her little face in his cold skin.

Alethaine smiles.

Astarion carefully sits back on the floor and takes the blanket to wrap himself. Alethaine is blissful and he concentrates on her heartbeat and breathing.

She is so warm.

“You… wanted me to hold you,” he whispers. “Without blankets or anything else?”

Astarion sniffs. This little bundle in his arms makes him…normal. What is more normal in this world than a father holding his newborn child? He was forced to do the most atrocious things, he had to crawl back from his own grave, and his body was used in the most disgusting ways…

And yet he is here.

In his own home far away from the Sword Coast. With the most amazing woman in the next room. With their child.

Alethaine is so delicate, so innocent… So small. 

“Well, it seems like you are finally asleep. Do you mind if I meditate?” He smiles, touching her baby hair.

He closes his eyes and lets the flow take him.

Astarion drifts in complete darkness. No, not this. Not the memories of being buried. He tries to run away from those memories but can’t. It's only a dream, he reminds himself. Whatever horrors he is going to witness it’s all in the past.

But why is it so dark?

Why does he feel so helpless?

He is still aware of his real surroundings and the tiny bundle in his own hands—but the weird memory takes a grip on his mind and he questions if he should have put Alethaine back in her bed.

The darkness shifts to light. Astarion can’t see anyone but he knows there are people around him. Quiet murmurs in elven reach to his ears forcing him to let out a cry.

Then a pair of hands take him and he hears a loud heartbeat. Long silver hair brushes his head and he sees the face of a tired elven woman whose smile is exhausted yet happy.

Tiriel looked similar three days ago.

“My little star,” the woman whispers to him.

The memory fades away. No more years to witness, no more light. Only darkness, misery, and cold—until he ends up in Tiriel’s arms that promise him safety and warmth.

“And you were afraid she wouldn’t want to be held by you.” He hears Tiriel’s voice as she kneels beside them, “I will take her, all right?”

Astarion, still half in his trance, lets her take the baby and Alethaine makes a disgruntled sound. “Oh, so now you like your dad more than me!” Tiriel laughs. “Was it all right? Your reverie?” 

Astarion finally returns to reality. Tiriel asks him that question any time she witnesses him waking up. Unless it’s obvious he’s seen something really bad and ends up crying in pain. 

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t?”

“I think I saw my mother,” Astarion finally confesses. “She was holding me like you are holding Alethaine right now.”

“Oh?” Tiriel touches his cheek. “I thought you didn’t remember anything”

“I still don’t. It’s like a glimpse.”

Tiriel tugs him, helping Astarion to stand up. “Do you think she is still alive? Your mother?”

“It doesn’t matter. I am a vampire, no one would want to have a vampire son.”

Tiriel nods—she knows when to stop asking. She knows when he feels uncomfortable and uneasy and never pushes his boundaries. And if she does, it’s by sheer accident.

“It’s already dark outside,” she notices. “You need to eat”

Hunger is too painful. Gods, he wishes he could feed on Tiriel—but they agreed he would return to his habits once she stops breastfeeding.

“If you go into the woods, kill something I can eat, too,” she asks. “I am fucking starving.”

“Of course,” Astarion puts on his winter shirt. “It seems like I am leaving the house as a father for the first time. I will be back soon, love,” he kisses her lips, and the moment he pulls away Tiriel points at their daughter. Astarion carefully plants a kiss on her forehead.

The winter night meets him with howling winds and piercing cold. Astarion is on a hunt, he is going to let his predatory nature take the lead once he is in the woods. He needs a lot of blood to compensate for the few days he spent with his wife and daughter, and when he returns to them his body will be temporarily hot.

Maybe it’s for the best that those who mattered to him when he was mortal think he is dead. There are three Astarions—a forever lost soul from Baldur’s Gate, a tortured spawn, and a free elf who fears nothing and no one, who has a home, who has people to love. It doesn’t matter what happened before he woke up on that spelljammer. 

Only what happens next. 

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeong

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #alethaine ancunin #astarion being a dad #dadstarion #astarion fluff #spacebarbarian fics #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion brainrot #astarion fanfic #tiriel of the sunset mountains #tiriel the barbarian #astarion x tiriel #oc tav: tiriel #dhampirs of the sword's coast

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Fate's Plans (Wanda Maximoff X Male!Reader)

Characters: Wanda Maximoff X Male!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers (Takes place sometime after AOU)

Warnings: Pregnancy, vague mentions of birth, bit of swearing

Could you write Wanda x male!reader, it’s just fluff really if that’s ok. Wanda and the reader find out they’re pregnant and the fic’s about their time throughout the pregnancy and after their child is born. Maybe the reader kinda freaks out a bit and Wanda finds it really funny/cute.

There were a lot of people who believed that finding true love was an act of fate. If it happened to you, you’d know immediately, and it would become a story to tell your kids and grandkids beside the person you were destined to grow old with. Wanda was one of those people. She believed with all her whole heart that her parents' meeting was fate, even if it meant that they would die young, leaving behind her and Pietro. However, she also believed that this fate wasn’t ever going to happen to her. Life was too cruel- why would life beat her down so hard so far just to throw her a bone now? And she was okay with that. She believed this so hard, that it actually took her a while to realise that she was wrong. Fate did have other plans for her, and the love of her life was already with her.

Wanda only realised it was you, was when she watched you excitedly calling her name repeatedly, getting a little quieter as you got close and closer, beaming as you proceeded to hand her a cloth bag that fit in her hand, and watched excitedly as she opened it, finding several stones, shells and even sea glass, and you went on to explain that on your PTO (Because you’d gotten injured on a mission and should have been resting) you’d gone to the coast with some family and gathered some trinkets because you thought she’d like it. She didn’t like it. She loved it, and she loved that you had thought of her and did this. That’s why immediately after, she asked you to dinner, and your eyes widened, not expecting that, before stuttering out an acceptance.

She was surprised it took her so long for herself to realise how special you were. You were an agent of SHIELD, and had been for two years, starting just a year after Wanda became an Avenger. Being young, and a rookie, you got a lot of teasing, especially from people like Clint and Tony, but you took it all in your stride and with a smile. You were always kind, eager to help, which on first appearance made you appear a bit of an airhead or gullible, but oh boy, was that wrong- Tony learnt that the hard way, when he tried to prank you by putting you in charge of checking over his security software for any faults, bugs, or cyber attacks, him already having it planned out for you to be overwhelmed and for FRIDAY to mimic an actual attack to scare you, only for you to handle it, and actually catch a bug in the system. All of which you announced to Tony in front of several other Avengers, including Wanda. Not long after, you ended up being assigned on a mission with Natasha, Clint and Steve, and come back with the three gobsmacked, and then tell a story of you being the most competent and well trained agent any of them had actually worked with. That kind of complimentary talk really boosts you up the ranks, it turns out, and soon Wanda was able to see it first hand. 

But out of missions, you were that kind, slightly silly person. You always asked about her day, complimented her on her recent mission, and eventually, you began giving gifts- getting her coffee in the morning, then also a bit of breakfast, then snacks, and eventually your gifts moved from food and drinks to finding DVDs of obscure movies she mentioned wanting to watch again, or fixing things for her in your down time. Your sewing skills on her cardigans and skirts were far from professional, but they worked as intended, and it was a lovely gesture. Wanda practically slapped herself when she realised these were your ways of trying to show you liked her.

As soon as you two actually started dating, everything just clicked. Your acts of love and affection didn’t slow down at all, except now the coffee and breakfast was something you grabbed together, you kept her favourite snacks at yours for when she came over, and she did the same for you, and dates between you was basically anytime you two got to be alone together- which was whenever you two had time after work, or after a mission, where you two just cuddled and relaxed after it all. The only real problem was the part where you two would be at work and be teased by your team for being kids in love, but it was all in good fun. The team was fully supportive. They saw how happy you made Wanda, and how well you two clicked. It was worth the aww’s and teasing whenever you told each other you loved each other or shared a look across a room. This did get a little better though when you two actually moved in together a year and half into your relationship, though now the team would regularly question when you two were gonna get married already.

Imagine the team's surprise when Wanda announced that she was going on desk work for the next few months- because you two were having a baby. 

“You know, there’s still time for a shotgun wedding.” Tony commented, walking past Wanda as she was sitting reading a mission report, also enjoying some baby carrots, the bowl balanced on her belly that had grown a lot the last few months. 

“Not happening Tony. Knowing my luck, I’ll go into labour while saying my vows.” She commented, not looking up. 

“You don’t even have to walk down an aisle or anything- we get you a white dress, get Y/N in a suit- can’t Captains officiate weddings? I own boats, that counts, right?” Tony questioned.

“Tony, we know you just want another party. I have no clue how you’re still functioning after what you pulled at the baby shower.” Natasha commented, coming in the room to give Wanda new forms, before taking the ones from her. “Now leave her alone, before I tell Clint.” She warned. Tony raised his hands in surrender, before leaving the room. “Now you.” 

“I haven’t done anything.” Wanda defended. 

“Other than you’re supposed to be working from home? You’re due any day now.” Natasha pointed out. 

“Exactly- Y/N got dragged off to that mission the other day and isn’t back yet- if I go into labour at home, I’m by myself.” She pointed out. 

“And if Y/N finds out you’re not following doctor’s orders, he’s gonna be irate.” She pointed out. Wanda knew she was right. Ever since Wanda had shown you the test results, you somehow became even more affectionate, even more loving, but also now protective. You always tried to not be overbearing on her and get on her nerves- she was the one actually going through it after all. You made sure her snack stash, which adjusted to her cravings, was always well stocked. As the pregnancy progressed, you switched chores- her doing any that she could do with minimal moving or while sat on a stool, and you did anything that would cause her any back pain. You set the nursery up together, you doing the painting, and Wanda put together most of the furniture, not having to do any heavy lifting thanks to her powers, though every few weeks you could come home to the nursery reorganised because she wasn’t happy about some aspects of it- the cot too far away from the door, the chair too far away from the cot, the cot and chair are too close together. Eventually she settled on a layout.

When Wanda entered her 3rd Trimester, was when you became a true worrier. If she showed any discomfort, you were by her side to try and help, and with every day closer to the due date, Wanda could tell you were getting more anxious- she blamed all the books and research you did pretty early on in her pregnancy, which led you down a rabbit hole about risks and worst case scenarios, though you didn’t want to talk about it with her- as to not worry her. That stress really showed when you found out about your current mission, and Wanda saw you actually raise your voice at Fury for sending you on it, knowing the situation. In the end, Fury could not reassign who was on the mission, but he did extend your leave after the baby’s birth by 2 months. Wanda promised to keep the baby in till you came back, and Natasha, Clint and Bruce promised to look after Wanda and also to keep Tony on a leash.

“Have you heard anything from them on how the mission’s going?” Wanda inquired, trying to change the subject. 

“Got a vague text from Steve saying ‘nearly done’ early this morning, but other than that, nothing, but knowing how effective Steve, Thor and Y/N work together, I’m expecting them back tonight.” She told Wanda. “In other words, you have until tonight to get home, or I'm telling.” 

“I can handle Y/N being a little annoyed at me being here- I want to see him as soon as he gets back, not a second longer.” Wanda decided, resting her head back in her chair. Natasha felt a buzz in her pocket, pulling her phone out, before grinning and putting it away. 

“Well better get moving- they’re already landing.” 

You were exhausted from the mission, but eager to get off the jet and get to Wanda. You didn’t like the idea on her being alone, both in the day and at night while due any moment- you heard a lot of labours start at night, and you’d had a nightmare while on your mission of Wanda waking up in the middle of the night with contractions, no one answering her calls because they were asleep, and an ambulance not getting to her for hours. You didn’t want that, so the best spot for you was by her side.

As soon as Steve landed the plane, you were off it, stripping off harnesses, belts and gear as you walked, rushing inside the building for the quicked debrief which you planned to mostly consist of ‘I’ll do the paperwork later’ talk, only to spot Wanda shuffling towards you, right beside Natasha, who sent an apologetic smile. You dumped your gear on the spot and ran to her. “You okay? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.” You fussed, taking Wanda in your arms, seeing her face for any discomfort- any sign she was having contractions or in labour- but she just smiled back at you. 

“Figured me being here meant having people around, so even if I went into labour, I wouldn’t be alone.” She pointed out. You sighed, your shoulders relaxing, the comment actually soothing that horrible thought that had been haunting your dreams. It was almost like-

“Have you been reading my mind again?” You asked her. 

“Only when your thoughts are so loud, I can hear them without telepathy. You worry too much, my love.” She told you, resting her hand on your cheek. 

“And now that you’re home- go take her home before we have to have Bruce deliver your kid- I’m not sure if Bruce could handle that stress. I’ll handle the debrief and Fury. Enjoy your last few days of peace for the next few years.” Steve commented as he walked past you both. You jokingly saluted him, and did as told. 

As soon as you got home, got Wanda settled and got the chores done that needed to be done, you joined your girlfriend in your bed, putting on one of the old DvDs of an old sitcom Wanda loved that she got you addicted to as well. “Tony giving you any trouble?” You asked. 

“Other than wanting us to have a shotgun wedding so he can get as wasted as he did at our baby shower? No… how did he even get that drunk?” Wanda asked. 

“If I had to guess… Thor and his flask of Asguardian alcohol. But then again I wouldn’t put it past him to figure out where we ordered our chocolates and got alcohol laced ones and ate them all to himself… can you imagine him getting drunk at our daughter’s Christmas Nativity? Or her toddler ballet classes?” You humoured, making Wanda laugh. 

“Oh, I think you mean our son’s Christmas Nativity and his toddler ballet classes. This, is a boy.” She said, tapping her stomach. 

“Hmmm, I still think for a girl, little Wanda Jr.” You told her, leaning over to kiss her bump. 

“If it is a girl, we are not calling her Wanda Jr.” She grinned, and you hummed. “You sure you’re okay with Pietro for a boy?” She asked. 

“Of course I am. Has been since we talked about it 6 months ago. Hell if it is a girl, we can have Petra, or something.” You suggested, wrapping an arm around her. “I wish I could have met him. I bet he would have been the best uncle… and also he’d join Tony in the shotgun wedding idea.” You commented, making her chuckle. 

“Yeah, he would… I think he’d love you though, he’d want us to marry just to gain you as a brother.” She added. “Anyway, one episode, then bed, I’m tired from looking at paper all day, and don’t lie to me about being tired yourself.” She told you. You agreed to that, but ended up falling asleep not even half way through. 

However, you did wake up to Wanda shaking your arm. “Hmm? Yeah? Need water? The bathroom?” You asked on autopilot, before you became more aware of your surroundings, realising Wanda was already out of bed… a bed, that was wet.

“Get dressed and take me to the hospital- my water broke.” She told you, keeping her voice low as she brushed her hair out before clipping it back. You stared at her, processing her words, before it clicked. Hospital. Water. Broke. Labour. Baby. Now. 

“Oh fuck we’re doing this!” You announced, jumping out of bed, rushing to grab clothes from your drawers to get dressed, while Wanda watched you, happy in her pyjamas, slippers and dressing gown as you hurried to get half decent, before grabbing her to-go bag from the chair in the corner, taking her by the arm and escorting outside to drive her to the hospital. “Let me know when you feel a contraction- have you felt any yet? Have you timed them? Your water breaking means it’s gonna speed up.” You requested as you drove. 

“Had a few in bed- thought they were braxton hicks, but then my water broke, so I woke you up. I wasn’t timing them, but I will now- hold on.” She said, her voice becoming strained as she grabbed the door and your arm, and you pulled over and looked at her. “No, drive! Contraction!” She ordered. 

“Oh! Right, sorry!” You apologised, taking off again. Wanda already knew this was going to be an experience, and a story to tell later with you right there. 

Boy was she right. From getting there, to getting her checked into the maternity ward, all attempts to hold back on being dramatically worried was forgotten. At all times, you had some sort of contact with Wanda, whether that was holding her as she walked around, letting her squeeze your hand through contractions, rubbing her back to help with pains, or hugging her and telling her she was doing amazing, you were there. You were there every step of the way, all attention on her, checking in on her, making sure she was as comfortable as she could be, and being a rock. You made the whole thing go as smoothly as they could, and Wanda was thankful for that. She wasn’t sure she could do it without you. But eventually, it was over, and she had her baby in her arms. She looked over at you, sat beside her, arms leant on the siderails, looking at your daughter, mesmerized, before looking up at Wanda. “She’s so small.” You whispered, making her smile. 

“Get over here and hold her, you dork.” She told you, shuffling over as much as she could so you could partially lay with her, taking your daughter in your arms, and looking down at her, before once again turning to Wanda, this time kissing her head.

“My girls. My beautiful girls, my whole world.” You told her, and she smiled, resting her head on you as you got comfortable with your baby, who was sound asleep in your arms, like she’d been the one doing all the hard work. “I knew you were a girl. Dreamt about it all the time- my little girl who looks just like her beautiful mom.” You told the baby in your arms. 

“So, what are we naming her? And don’t say Wanda Jr.” She questioned. 

“Thought we already agreed? Petra, right? Unless you want that as a first name, in which case, we could do what Clint did for you and name her after him. What’s the female version of Clint? Clinton?... Cli-”

“Don’t finish that thought, you’re too sleep deprived. Petra’s fine.” She told you, already seeing where exactly you were going, even if you didn’t. “Anyway, you should probably go tell the others- let Tony know a shotgun wedding is no longer an option but he can throw a party anyway.” She told you.

“Alright, I can do that. Want me to put our baby down to sleep so you can get some rest? I’ll make sure they don’t come around till late morning.” You told her, kissing her head as she nodded, and you put Petra in her cot beside Wanda. 

“And as soon as you’re done, get back here, I want more hugs, even if it’s cramped.” She told you, getting a playful salute like how you had done to Steve earlier, before you grabbed your phone to step out and share the good news. Wanda rolled onto her side to look at her daughter, reaching out to put her arm into her cot, running a finger across her cheek. 

Hope you like it! I wrote this in about 2-3 hours in one sitting so if there's mistakes please let me know. If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort  @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @rebellionofthecattle @hello-love-youre-pretty @werosemagic @courtneychicken  @graysonmalfoy @bellero@originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

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[armed-with-a-waffle-iron]

Stephanie Brown ACTUALLY having the character arc that fanon pretends Jason Todd had (plus a defence of canon Jason)

What I'm really saying is that Stephanie Brown is underappreciated, Jason Todd is often misinterpreted, and, though it should go without saying, ignoring canon is poor media literacy. So let's actually analyse canon and get to the bottom of what the stories are trying to say and how they use their characters to tell this, as opposed to just which character should we stan.

I'm arguing that Stephanie Brown's story actually features a redemption arc that sees her transform from a violent, almost murderous teenager into the most unwaveringly hopeful of heroes and that Jason's story is about a villain who we're meant to empathise with to expose the cracks in the Batman's heroic facade; a Frankenstein's monster if you will. Here's a numbered list:

Part 1: Outgrowing Violence, Anger and Murder

A big part of Stephanie Brown's growth in canon is her learning not to kill or use excessive force. But it's not as simple as just killing is wrong, don't question it.

Let's begin with the narrative's relationship to violence, anger and murder. Why doesn't Batman kill? Because "[those] who [fight] with monsters might take care lest [they] thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you". If he kills, he's playing god, choosing who gets to live and die. No one deserves that kind of absolute power and absolute power also corrupts. Batman doesn't want to lose sight of himself or his cause. Deliberate murder is treated VERY negatively in the Batman mythos.

Enter Stephanie Brown.

Stephanie was a working class latchkey kid who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. She had an abusive, criminal father, who was in and out of jail, and a mother struggling with addiction, who Steph became a carer for at just 15. Steph also became pregnant with the child of her horrible ex. At 16, she gave birth to that child and had to give her up for adoption. Steph is also a survivor.

The world was never kind to Steph and left this teenager with a hell of a lot of bitterness and rage which her vigilante career became an outlet for. You can tell by the way she fights since Steph fights DIRTY; she'll tug hair and spit in your eyes and strike below the belt and catch a kick to twist your ankle and dislodge your already broken nose. On the one hand; the narrative tells us Steph is resourceful. She's 5'5", 130 lb and has zero powers, but can always find an opening even when going up against Gotham's grizzliest. It's telling that quick thinking, savviness and spontaneity become her thing when she becomes Batgirl; Steph is the wild card. On the other hand, she was a real diamond in the rough and a complete loose canon. In her first arc, it's Batman who stops her from making the biggest mistake of her life; killing her dad. To deliberately kill; to play god, is to lose yourself, remember. Her first arc is about not being defined by who your parents are and about not giving up on yourself. Batman basically tells her, there's hope for you yet Stephanie Brown, by getting her to spare her dad. And she does. And so began her superhero career.

Nonetheless, it's never that simple. Steph is still a bitter, angry teenager, no matter how many jokes she cracks. It becomes a personal crusade when she, now Robin, discovers that The Penguin is using children as runners. It takes Cassandra Cain to stop her from inflicting anything she may regret.

The narrative wants to show us how cruel the world can be and that it isn't black and white, either. The story ends with an angry Stephanie lamenting "why". It's a "why" she is asking herself too. Why does she do what she does? And it informs us that she, and maybe us the reader too, still have a lot to learn. Murder's not the answer but what is?

Stephanie later saves Bruce by almost murdering serial killer Victor Zsasz. Bruce reprimands her and she cries, quite honestly, "I don't get it, I really don't", following on from where we left off in Batgirl. "There are always other options than to kill" asserts Bruce, forget not being on the same page, they're reading different books. The thesis of the story is what Bruce should have told Steph when she was an angry 15 year old about to murder her dad; "[those] who [fight] with monsters might take care lest [they] thereby become a monster". The world's cruel, Steph, but that doesn't mean you have to be too. "Are you firing me?" "No, I'm teaching you".

Over 2 years down the line, an around 19 year old Stephanie, establishing herself as the new, hoping-inspiring Batgirl, is now teaching a brash Damian Wayne what she's learned.

"To murder or not to murder" is just a plot device to the themes of overcoming your own anger at the world's cruelty to contribute good, coming to terms with shades of grey, not giving up on yourself and staying hopeful in the face of adversity and horror. These are Stephanie's arcs and as a consequence, she goes from would-be-murderer to Gotham's cheeriest caped crusader.

Part 2: Double Standards and Second Chances

Another huge part of Stephanie's story is her overcoming double standards and doubters, to earn her own second chances. Her resurrection and rise to the role of Batgirl were choices made to hammer home this theme; it's never too late to turn things around.

There's some juicy metatext to analyse here too. DC editorial's treatment of Stephanie during War Games was horrific and panned by both fans and writers. To reperate for these harms, Steph was retconned back to life and then made Batgirl during Batman: Reborn. Here's a quote by Batgirl (2009) author Bryan Q. Miller on what his run aimed to bring out of Steph:

The whole point of Stephanie's resurrection and take over of the Batgirl title was to give her a redemption arc.

In text, Stephanie was unfairly treated too, notwithstanding that she was brash and had a massive violent streak in her Spoiler and Robin days. Tim Drake constantly condescends her and tells her to give up vigilante life, even though she was ALWAYS a match for Tim according to Convergence: Batgirl. Cassandra Cain constantly underestimates Steph. Bruce Wayne tells his allies to cut off ties with Steph and then later fires her as Robin for DISOBEYING HIM as if that's not the first thing Dick Grayson ever did as Robin. Barbara Gordon tells Steph she has a death wish. Dick deems Steph too reckless (moments before he resurrects a zombie Batman). And Damian is an entitled brat who gives her a hard time for no reason. Everyone doubts Stephanie and it generally says more about the doubter than it does Stephanie.

Stephanie was never great with authority or criticism so she still went out there and earned her second chance. And it felt rewarding when her doubters came around too.

Stephanie was brought back from the dead to be redeemed and man did she take that chance!

Part 3: What is Jason Todd's Story Meant to Tell Us and My Defence of Canon Jason

Jason Todd returns from the dead as a ghost of Batman's past; he is the living embodiment of Batman's greatest mistake who couldn't stay buried and is back to haunt him. He's a character we are meant to empathise with but he's a villain nonetheless. He's not irredeemable but for the most part his story is not really about redemption. Succinctly, it revolves around the idea that "we are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell” to quote Oscar Wilde.

When we first meet the resurrected Jason, he's a cold-blooded murderer who's slinging guns and using The Joker's old moniker. These choices are made to emphasise that he went down the wrong path; he's breaking Batman's "don't play god" rule and his actions become eerily closer to those of the Clown Prince of Crime than Batman's. In fact Nightwing and Batman spend some quality time together in the next two issues because Nightwing is the foil to the Red Hood; he's what Bruce considers his greatest success. Remember that thing about "those who [fight] with monsters might take care lest [they] thereby become a monster"? Well Jason DID become a monster. And if he's the monster, then Bruce Wayne is Frankenstein.

We're not supposed to think "yes, kill the The Joker, Jason", we're supposed to think "good god, please Jason, it's not too late to turn your life around". Here's Dick and Jason being the exact opposite of each other, an issue apart.

So what was Jason's villainous return trying to say? For one, that people are the products of their circumstance, lest we forget Jason was once an eager and studious Robin who just wanted to be part of something greater when life, but specifically Bruce, sent him awry. This is also a story about Bruce which tells us says that our mistakes have consequences that don't stay buried, and that we will always be forced to reckon with our histories or it becomes everyone's problem. This next panel shows this best. All of Jason's killing and torture and fear-spreading and chaos does not come down to some "murder or not to murder" debate, it comes down to his relationship with Bruce. He is the monster that Frankenstein created who's back to haunt him and no one is safe.

Jason's initial Red Hood arcs were never supposed to pose the question "should Batman kill The Joker or not?". The answer is no and always has been. They are supposed to show us how Bruce's poor fatherhood of and partnership with Jason Todd led to all this horror. And Bruce can't turn back the clock, he has to reckon with the consequences of his actions in the present or more people will get hurt. It's significant that these first arcs don't end with Jason returning to the manor and seeking help surrounded by family.

We then see Jason and his issues with Bruce threaten the lives of others like when he beat Tim half to death twice, tried to blow up Mia Dearden and then tried to become a murderous, gun-touting Batman after Bruce's "death".

Once Dick Grayson becomes Batman, the narrative sheds a bit more light on how Bruce's Frankenstein created a monster in Jason; Bruce wanted Jason to be another Dick Grayson.

The red hair is a perfect metaphor. Jason is naturally red-haired and he is now balding because Bruce made him dye his hair black so he'd look like Dick as Robin. That sums it up for me. Bruce really created his own demon here and Dick, as the new Batman, is trying to make amends with the sins of the Batman's past. Jason's a great choice for a Dick Grayson villain because of their histories, considering Dick Grayson is the legacy Batman.

"I tried really hard to be what batman wanted me to be...which is you." Jason tells Dick.

That line is so painful and way more recognisable and relatable than anything fanon has produced.

"But this world...this dirty, twisted, cruel and ugly dungheap had...other plans for me."

Look no further, this is who Jason Todd is.

That's a powerful story if you ask me, and this is why I like Jason Todd as a character; a villain I pity deeply, who is portrayed as a product of their circumstances without diminishing their agency and who makes me see the cracks in the hero's facade because they are the monster our "hero" created. He's also a very nuanced foil to the ever-shining light that is Dick Grayson. The appeal to Mary Shelley's Frankenstein isn't that the monster murdered people. I also would never swap canon Jason out for, I dunno, Wayne Family Adventures Jason who's the amalgamation of 3 or 4 common fanon tropes. This is my two cents.

#stephanie brown that ball of anger and vengeance that we saw grow into one of the most well-rounded capable and cheerful bats around #stephanie brown #vengeance is purple #fanon vs canon #jason tood #robin #batgirl #the spoiler #red hood #batman and robin #dc comics #comics #metas #batman #batfam #wayne family adventures #bruce wayne #dick grayson

[mykinkyyandere]

Idea / Request for Edmund Pevise where he sided with Janus (who is like actually working WITH him and won’t betray him) being in love with a darling who is on the side of his siblings

The White Hope

AO3

Pairings: Yandere/Dark! King Edmund Pevensie! X f!Reader

Summary: Fifteen years had passed since the siblings found Narnia, but Jadis's reign continues. No, it is not Jadis's anymore. The reign of Edmund, The White King. And he takes a special, twisted interest in you.

Warnings: Yandere, dark, kidnapping, manipulation, obsession, possession, depression, trauma, past abuse, minor deaths, dub-con touches, implied future non-con, implied emotional abuse, implied future violence, enjoying/taking pleasure from emotional suffer/crying/power, grown-up characters, sorry if i missed anything

The White Witch's reign was not over. It had been fifteen years since the siblings came to Narnia. Everyone believed that the prophecy would come true, but one of the brothers had a coldness in his heart. Edmund became more angry, more distant and more withdrawn towards his siblings over time. It was not known who was to blame for this, but he thought that everyone had a share, including himself. There was also a share of his parents, whom he could no longer remember. He saw everyone as guilty, himself too.

The prophecy necessitated that all the siblings had to be together. But Edmund had chosen his own path once. At first he regretted it and wanted to return to them, but the White Witch had prevented him from leaving with her manipulations. He used Edmund and treated him like a slave. He was not a king, but a poor prisoner. But little did she know Edmund would one day rule her.

A king was always a king.

There was always a flame in Edmund's heart. It had grown over the years just to spite the freezing cold which became stronger every passing day. This flame wanted power, wanted revenge, and justice. Of course, his concept of justice was quite dubious. But he felt that he had the power to get what he wanted. As he got older, he became a strong man. Whatever the White Witch did to keep him naive and defenseless, it didn't work. The prophecy may not have come true, but it certainly gave birth to a darker prophecy.

No one knows how it had happened, but after ten years the White Witch had let him rule. She considered Edmund as her king and gived him all her authority. Though, she can't give him the right that he already had all along. The White Witch realized that she would never be able to rule completely, because this wasn't her destiny. She was not a daughter of Eve. But Edmund made her see the truth. The human siblings couldn't destroy her because Edmund wasn't with them. The White Witch couldn't destroy them because she wasn't the real ruler.

As Edmund sat quietly on his throne she thanked him with trembling admiration in her cruel heart. After all those years of cruelty, the King could have punished her if he wanted, but he didn't. He was also grateful to the Witch. Without her and her cruelty, he would not have become the person he was today. But he didn't share this with her.

He remembered the first time he sat on this throne as a child. The Witch had thrown him into her dungeon. And there she was now, kneeling before him, for five years.

Peter and his sisters had lost hope. They felt their chances of defeating the White Witch became impossible with Edmund's accession to the throne. He had declared himself the White King. It was wrong, it was dark. Something went wrong, but no one could figure out why. What would happen if there was no prophecy? The Great King Peter, who had no choice but to prepare for the unknown, worked nonstop. Five years. For exactly five years, he had been trying to end the cruel rule of his younger brother, whom he once believed to be grumpy but deep down inside well-intentioned. He didn't want to believe he was a bad person. He and Lucy were convinced that Edmund was a victim of a skilled manipulator. But Susan argued that he chose this path. He had had countless opportunities to return to them over the course of ten years, but he didn't take any step. Lucy was the only one who believed that Edmund was still a good person when he took the throne. But even she had started to think this was now a childish hope. Peter had finally realized his little brother had left them a long time ago.

And you, you were a dreamer trying to add ridiculous excitement to your ordinary life. You'd never been able to leave this spirit inside of you behind. They wanted to kill this side of you and cast you out for your whole life, but you never stopped dreaming. You wanted to explore a wardrobe in one of these hide-and-seek games you'd been playing with yourself. "I want to hide in this wonderful wardrobe and have the coats wrap me up!" Ha! You were a strange girl. There was probably a reason why this peculiarity of yours was accepted by Narnia. Because you found yourself in the snow.

The hospitable beavers who were talking had hurriedly invited you to their home. You were so scared when they told you that this wonderful world was not so wonderful anymore. You wanted to go back home, wished you'd give up your ridiculous games. But everything had a reason and a price. It couldn't be brought back.

They have taken you to the High King Peter. A daughter of Eve who came in Narnia fifteen years later must had had something to do with this war.

You had arrived after a trip full of delicious jams. A king and two queens who tried to defend their people and their land, but were betrayed by their brother Edmund. The dead flame of hope in their hearts began to burn again with your arrival. They were supposed to hide you from the White King. But Peter knew deep down that they were too late for that.

Edmund had heard of your arrival. He knew about a lot of things thanks to the White Witch. She protected him against all diseases and made him immortal. She gave him all the powers she could give. She turned Edmund, who was a king by birth, into an invincible king.

"Witch, give me your wand." Edmund said, without taking his eyes off the faun, who was trembling with fear. His eyes were on the ground, he did not dare to look at the White King. No one could, not even the White Witch.

Jadis bowed her head and held out both hands to present her wand. Edmund stood up, taking his time, and went down with slow steps. There was something in his eyes. Far from the old Edmund. He took the wand that Jadis held out. He spun it in his hand and hit the ground. The sound echoed powerfully on the soulless walls. The poor faun almost fainted on the spot.

He titled his head and said in a half-whisper, "Lost?"

"P-p-please h-h-"

Edmund turned the wand in a way that contrasted with his still form and pressed it against the faun's back. "Lost?"

"W-wait! Beavers! I believe t-they took her to... t-them."

If he had looked into Edmund's eyes before he turned to stone, he could have seen how "insane" he was. Out of his mind, empty, dark.

He gave the wand back to Jadis. He didn't speak. He didn't need to talk. The Witch could understand what was going through his mind. She could figure out what he wanted. There was an almost wordless but deep relationship between them. He thought the only person who understood him was the White Witch. After all, she raised him in some way.

He rested his hands behind his back and walked away in silence. Jadis knew what she had to do.

"How much time do we have?" you said when Peter gave you a dagger.

"Enough to get you out of here."

"I'm not running away."

Peter took a deep breath and looked out from the huge castle windows. Snow. There was snow everywhere. Could he end the freezing winter? It's been a month since they found you, but there hasn't been a single improvement. It was as if everything was getting worse. The winter was harsher, Narnia was more dangerous. A wild wind that signaled that the White King was looking for you and would find you eventually. But why didn't he come earlier? Why didn't he start a war to capture you earlier? It was as though the trees listened to everything and told him that the right time had come. Now that you were Peter's only hope, he couldn't lose you either. But there was more. One month was enough for him to realize that there was more. Maybe... one day, he thought.

He looked at you, holding your hands. "You're not running away. You're just hiding."

"It's the same thing!"

"You are a hope that has come to Narnia after a decade. It is my duty to protect you. And I have the final word."

There was a brief silence. "I see. Narnia needs me, so no harm should come to me."

You weren't looking at him anymore. Your eyes wandered over the ground and then over the beautiful, eerie snow. He thought how beautiful you looked. But sad. "Yes, Narnia needs you and I have to make sure that you are safe."

You turned your offended face to him. He put your one hand on his heart and the other hand on his face. You were so full of life and pure. Since the first time he saw you, his sisters have noticed that there was something changed in him. And it was their fun to make fun of it. But they were so happy for him. It was the first time they had seen their older brother so full of love in fifteen years of cruelty. He definitely became attached to you in a short time and had no intention of leaving you. He didn't know the extent of his attachment to you, all he knew was that his heart ached when he didn't see you even for a second. "But Narnia is not the only reason."

You felt your face got warm. To be honest, you've been waiting for this moment. He was a charming person. Brave, patient, caring, leader... Your mouth fell open while your eyes widened. Maybe... one day, you thought.

"He's here! We're too late!" Lucy shouted from the outside.

"You were wrong. Enough to confess." You said, smiling.

He caressed your hands and smiled. "Still enough."

Edmund; the oppressor, the ruthless, the fierce White King. Even if their High King was Peter, they were afraid of him. They couldn't ignore him or disrespect him by saying, "you're not our king." It was known that he made collections of them.

He had not seen his siblings for fifteen years. While he was a prisoner of the White Witch, he had a chance to escape and go back to them, but he didn't. He was afraid to change his mind. But on what? At that time, he didn't have the wish of becoming a king in his mind. There was a boy who just wanted to go home. A boy who missed his mother and hid from the war. But he could not ignore the growing darkness in his heart. He loved and embraced this darkness. He was afraid of losing this mysterious self he had if he returned to his siblings.

Was he nervous? Was he angry? Was he excited? He didn't know. His mind was pensive as he approached the sheltered castle. Was he happy to see them? He wasn't sure about that. He wanted to be happy, he wanted to feel something. Instead there was no life in his cruel heart.

He was sitting alone in his sleigh. He looked straight ahead. Neither to the right nor to the left. He had a white fur and cloak that could easily disappear among the snow. It did not belong to any living thing. It was a big, magical fur that his witch created especially for him. Every single garment and every single precious jewel of his was white. It was not just any ordinary white color. It was magical and ominous, cursed like snow. On his head was a crown of ice similar to that of the White Witch. But it was much larger and disproportionate. A crown that was almost as sharp as a knife and reflected his unstable inner world. The only thing that made him look distinctive in white was his natural hair and longing eyes.

Jadis was on another sleigh next to him. She was also dressed in white and had a sharp crown of ice on her head, but smaller than before. She had taken off her crown when Edmund became king, but he had let her keep it on condition that she would make it much more smaller, like a little insignificant accessory. She put the reason down to his generosity, but the main reason was that the White Witch, whom he knew and was used to, had that crown. He couldn't quite get rid of his past. His heart and mind had been damaged. It was hard to let go of the people and things he was used to. He had chosen to lose his family. At least now he could choose not to lose some things.

"The new hope of Narnia" he said, smiling vaguely.

Susan took Peter's hand. They were little, they were children. Now they had all become young adults. Young kings and queens. No one said anything, but what they were feeling and what was going through their minds was the same. After all those years... What was going to happen?

And here he was. The White King and his White Witch. Their big sleigh stopped side by side. There were only two of them. There was no army in sight. It was a frightening display of force. It meant that their younger brother had became so powerful that even the High King Peter the Magnificent could not afford to stand against him. To come without an army was to despise him. Since it was certain that he did not come there with the intention of peace, this was an insult.

Susan took her hand from Peter's and waited with one hand on her arrow. She was ready to stop Edmund, and maybe to stop him forever. As if she could. Peter couldn't foresee what he wanted to do, so he waited. His army was on standby for his order. An army against two "person". Peter knew that it would take more than a whole army for two person with these powers.

"Where is Lucy?" Edmund's voice wavered like a song in the maddening silence. The wind somehow perfectly conveyed to them his voice, which was impossible to hear at a distance. There was no need to shout, there was no need to get closer. There was no need for unnecessary family reunions. And they had no way of inviting him to their walls anyway. He was too unreliable for that.

"She preferred not to see you. Her heart is broken, you know. Because of you." he said it a little loudly, but there was no need for it. Edmund had sharp ears now, he heard Peter with ease.

"You betrayed us." Susan said. She thought her heart wouldn't soften when she saw him, but she couldn't take her eyes off his brother, who had become a young man, even for a moment. The cold air dried her tears quickly. She missed his little brother very much.

"I- I..." Edmund murmured. He frowned, looked confused but he wasn't really. He smiled slightly. "...really want to see Lucy."

"As I said earlier, she doesn't want to see you. What is the reason you come here after all those years?" Peter said, this time more quietly but confidently.

Edmund stared at the beautiful castle. His smile was more visible. "White... It's nice to see your warm home dressed in white. And do you like it, my brother? Do you like my beautiful cold gift? Does it fill my absence in your warm home?"

His calm and soft voice filled the ears of both of them. Something was wrong. There was an odd feeling inside them. They looked at each other for a moment.

"You could have filled your absence yourself." Peter said. "Why are you here?"

"To become a family again." He let out a small laugh.

"Stop it! Don't play with us!" Peter shouted.

Edmund took a deep breath and closed his eyes as the cold filled his lungs. Becoming a family again? Even his joke felt impossible. It felt like a bitter taste on his tongue. It sounded like a forbidden sentence. Becoming a family again? Even the thought of it was unbearable.

"Why these stupid questions that you already know the answers?" He let out a deep breath, making it sound like he was extremely bored.

Peter took out his sword. "Answer me!"

Edmund slowly opened his arms and showed around. His thin and long fingers were rather pale, but strong. "I came to find a new... hope."

Peter gulped. There was no trace of goodness on his brother's face. He seemed more full of evil than the White Witch. He wore a mask looking like compassionate, but he was cruel behind it. "There's no hope left for you."

Edmund raised his head and stared into the blinding whiteness. 'It's too late for me, isn't it, brother?' he thought.

"Tell Lucy that I really would like to see her. And tell her that... it wasn't her fault." He said. The smile on Edmund's face didn't go away. It wasn't an empty, numb smile, it was a smile of victory. "It was yours."

As their sleigh returned in the direction from which they had come, Peter put back his sword and looked at Susan. He didn't know what to think, he was confused about what to do. When did his little brother turn into such a dark and deceptive person?

"What did he mean?" Susan asked anxiously.

"I don't know."

Cold, icy, soulless. It's like these walls wanted to kill your soul. It's as if these chains have chained you to your terrible fate. The wait was painful, but was it sweeter than what was going to happen to you? The sculptures of poor Narnians with whom you shared the dungeon had agreed you.

The unnatural cold has forced you to sleep. You didn't know how long it had been when you woke up, but it had been long enough for your body to hurt from the hard ground.

"Oh, no!" You shivered when you heard the Witch's shout. She said the king wanted to stay alone. "Get out!"

The sweet comfort of painful waiting had come to an end at last.

The White King, tall and unnaturally pale-skinned, stood in front of your cell. You wondered if there was any trace left of that old brother Lucy told you about. You wondered how much he had changed. Lucy thought that why Edmund lied to Peter about seeing Narnia when they were a child was only because he was a bully. If she had known that Narnia would become what it was today, she would never have told her siblings about her secret world.

You looked desperately into his eyes. Imploringly. You never stopped looking into those firm eyes of his for a moment.

"The new hope of Narnia." He said. "Why do you look so hopeless?"

"I- I'm not h..." The longer you looked at him, the more hypnotized you felt. You shook your head and kept your eyes on the ground. There was something about him that attracted you in a scary way. "Peter will save me."

He tapped his ring rhythmically against the bars. "Peter... Why Peter?"

You didn't answer.

"Oh, I know."

You turned your head.

"Of course I know."

Would you end up like these beavers standing next to you?

"You've had time enough to take a fancy to my charming brother."

You looked at him when he opened the dungeon. His long white cloak and fur were touching the ground. They looked so warm. You wished you had one of them.

"Are you cold?" He asked, already knowing your answer.

You nodded. He released you from the chains and helped you to stand up. You couldn't help but tremble with fear. What was he trying to do?

He wrapped you inside his cloak and made you disappear next to his body. You leaned your head against him and put one hand on his chest. It was warm. So warm, perfect.

He led you out of the dungeon. After he sat on his throne, he placed you on his lap. You were warm and sleepy. You rested your head on his chest. The cloak and fur he wrapped around you made you feel incredibly peaceful.

This, this was not normal.

"Do you know what the best part is?" he talked to himself while you were on that strange line between sleep and wakefulness. "To imagine that my brother is devastated because he failed to protect you."

He rubbed your back. "Sometimes I close my eyes, sometimes I focus on a point. But what I do is the same. To imagine." He smiled, was lost in thought again. "He is now a desperate man whose loved one has been stolen from him. 'The magnificent king of Narnia', who lost hope, found hope and could not protect it."

He pulled you a little towards himself. He held your chin and turned your face to him. You were sleeping. Peaceful, beautiful and vulnerable. You were like the other innocent beauties he destroyed. He had never wanted to see a flower or a sparkle, he had destroyed them all. It shouldn't have been hard to kill you. As Peter had said, there was no longer any hope for him. Edmund had already killed his hope, with his own hands. Why would you be any different?

But you were. He took you to his quarters and put you in his bed, which kept you warm like his cloak. He sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked your hair softly. "I am cruel." He said. "Oh, my poor little hope. I am a very, very cruel monster."

He smiled and kept caressing your hair for a while. Poor sweet girl. Why did you even come to Narnia? Did you like little games like her sister Lucy? He imagined you in the hide-and-seek game they were playing. You ran laughing and followed Lucy. She wanted to get into Edmund's hiding place, but Edmund got annoyed as usual, telling her to find another place. So you grabbed Lucy's hand and ran to the room where the wardrobe was, saying this way. Yes, it could have been a nice memory.

Whatever the innocent reason, this could not change the fact that you were trapped in the cold kingdom of The White King. You were going to spend every day, hoping, to get away from him, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

"I'm afraid I will break your heart and lock you in here." He whispered.

He gently tucked your hair behind your ear. Looked at your beautiful skin. "I will chain you up and never let you go."

He stroked your cheek. "I will make Peter suffer only to see the despair in your eyes." He held his breath when he imagined the tears streaming from your eyes and pleading sobs escaping from your trembling lips. He had really turned into a very twisted person, and he had no complaints about it.

He leaned and rubbed his nose to your skin, inhaling your smell. "I will make him watch how I own you to see the desperation in Peter's eyes." He liked that thought. It was something that thrilled him very much to show Peter his strength and leave him helpless. The idea of seeing his own brother miserable, leaving him no choice but to beg because there is nothing he could do was perfect.

"But don't you scared, my beautiful hope. I wouldn't harm a single hair on your head."

"Lucy?!"

Peter and Susan spent hours searching for their little sister Lucy and you. Their plan was to bring you back when Edmund left. Lucy was supposed to take you to a safe place just for a while.

"I'm here!"

"Lucy!" She was tied to a tree, sitting.

"Are you okay?" Peter rescued her and helped her to stand up. Everyone who was supposed to protect the girls had been killed.

"I'm okay but..." Lucy cried, hugging Peter. "I'm so sorry."

Peter felt bad enough already. For hours, he couldn't even take a sip of water out of concern for Lucy's safety and yours. He found one of his loved ones, but what happened to the other?

He hugged her tighter. And it was all his fault.

He caressed Lucy's hair. "It wasn't your fault." He whispered.

In the weeks and months that followed, Peter didn't stop trying to find you. Narnia had lost hope once again. Peter had once again lost a person he loved. It hurt him even more that his own brother was the one who put him through this pain. But that was just the beginning. Edmund, The White King, now had a wife. The White Hope.

#dark edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie #yandere edmund pevensie #king edmund the just #just king of narnia #king edmund pevensie #the white witch #yandere edmund pevensie x reader #dark edmund pevensie x reader #dark narnia #yandere narnia #edmund pevensie x reader #narnia x reader #peter pevensie #the chronicles of narnia #x naive reader #x kidnapped reader #narnia #the white hope

[ellievickstar]

Is this Love?

A/N: So I wanted to do an an enemies to lovers and I thought: What better character to start with then Cardan Greenbriar. I really hope this is okay I know that @aroseinvelaris love the cruel prince so this is for you love <3

Summary: The king is the most infuriating person alive. But every time he looks at you, you feel your skin burn and your heart skips a beat. You hate the way he makes you feel alive, but you especially hate his obnoxiousness and horrible addiction to partying. However, after a night of drinking and reveling, what will you do when the King of Elfhame seeks you out?

Request: N/A

Pairing: Cardan Greenbriar x noble faerie!reader

Warnings: !!!Disclaimer!!!This does not follow the actual storyline, I’m kinda just winging it since it’s been some time since I’ve read the books and also I wanna get comfortable with the character first!!! Enemies to lovers, a bit toxic, intoxication, physical contact, being held against ones will

~*~*~*~*~

You wanted to kill him. “What. Did. You. Say.” You asked again, glaring at the King you were supposed to respect. You curled your fingers into a fist as they dug crescents into your palms. The king lazily smirked at your frustration, the papers you had given him falling out of his hand onto the floor.

“Your idea is dismal at best. It lacks any intellectual reasoning at it is also by far one of the worst that your family has ever presented me. You may be the representing noble, but honestly this presentation is just sad and pathetic,” You gaped, rolling your eyes as you snatched the papers from the ground, storming out of the room. That asshole. How dare he!? How dare he insult your ideas like that, knowing that you and your father had worked hard on those proposals together. How dare he insult your intelligence when he can barely even go a day without becoming intoxicated and doing something stupid at those parties he holds!

Fury bubbled within you as you stormed to your home. Waving your hands in the air as you ranted and raved about the King, you mumbled strings of curses and insults to yourself. That- That arsehole. That empty headed, intoxicated, narcissistic, egoistic, think-skulled arsehole. Start praying that he becomes sober because one more word out of that mouth will get him killed, either by your hands or some pissed-off royal from another far away powerful land.

Slamming the papers onto the table of your office, you sighed heavily, collapsing onto the armchair behind you. Being one of Elfhame's few females that is a representing noble for her family was far from easy. Especially when that lazy dumbass king that sat on his ass and drank all day already had prejudices against you since you were both children. You might have to reconsider killing him because, well, why not? Cardan Greenbriar is one of the most incompetent people in the entire kingdom and he still dared to insult YOUR intelligence. A scholar, the same lady who literally saved him from being murdered at the coronation. The absolute audacity!

You growled impatiently as you ran your hands through your hair. Sure, you might not be the oldest noble, but he hadn't even spared you a thought before tossing your ideas down the drain. What was so terrible about giving free education to poorer families in Elfhame? Was he so narrow-minded, so spoiled, so entitled, that he didn't realise that there are still fae out there suffering!?

"I guess it's back to the drawing board huh!?" You whipped your head around to your father. He smiled at you, crows feet appearing at the corners of his eyes, his hair white, his skin sunken and wrinkled. Human. Your father was human. Your mother had been the fae one, though she died at birth. However, you never felt her absence as your father had never let you doubt for one moment that you were absolutely loved. You softened at the sight of your father. He was old, weak. Definitely not things that were valued by the fae. And if it hadn’t been for your fae heritage and your father’s deep-rooted connections, you could be living a very different life.

“I’ll worry about that, you just rest, Pa,” Prompting your father gently to go to bed. He nodded, pride shining in his eyes, as he walked out humming a simple tune. Your heart broke at the thought of living a life after he dies, but it was inevitable. You had to figure this out on your own. Lest, Mr. I-hate-everything, would be breathing down your neck.

Sighing, you turned to your desk, riddled with stacks if loose papers and books. You had to figure something out, present something, you promised yourself. You would not let the king trample your idea of a better Elfhame.

~*~*~*~*~

You were…..so tired. Well that was one way to put it. How did some humans do this their whole lives? You had pulled an all-nighter to rewrite the reports that the King wanted and you couldn’t believe how truly exhausted you were. When you heard from your father that some humans do this from the time they are in middle school, you wanted to faint. You could barely hold it together as you changed clothes into a formal gown.

Regardless, it was done. Thankfully, you were finally done with the piles of work that you had delayed for so long. If you were lucky, the King would give you a day off. Trudging to the Palace of Elfhame, you let out a sigh as you smoothed down your skirts once more. Approaching the doors, you flinched when you heard laughter and the cacophony of a party from the inside.

“When will someone finally have a vendetta against me and murder me in my sleep,” You mumbled as you pushed open the doors, faltering slightly as you noticed the insane amount of people dancing and laughing under the influence. At the centre of it all, Cardan lazed on his throne, grinning as he held a goblet of what you guessed was a mixture of his favourite alcohols.

You were about to turn around and leave, however Cardan spotted you and promptly called out your name above the loud and jarring music. Realising that he was probably drunk and wouldn’t remember this anyways, you continued walking, huffing to yourself when you heard footsteps following you. Cardan’s footsteps.

“Wait! Would you listen to your King and just wait!?” You ignored him, despite your efforts, he still caught up to you, stepping in front of you to block your path. He reeked of alcohol, and….was that substances?

“Are you high!? And drunk!? It’s not even a weekend Cardan!” You yelled in his face. If he was both of those things he wouldn’t remember this anyways, so might as well get it off your chest. “You are so infuriating, you are not responsible, you barely make right judgments without your advisors, you are always a little bit drunk. You are not fit to be King. Let’s not even mention the fact that you always look down on me for being half-human! I hope yo-,” You couldn’t finish your sentence as you kept trying to shove Cardan, because as you tried to continue screaming at him, he caught your wrist and pulled you in roughly, meeting your with a kiss.

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: I don’t know about this….but eh. No harm no foul in trying. Honestly, I don’t think this is the worst fic I have ever written. So- I hope you had fun reading this. I had a little fun writing this. See you next time <3

(ALSO THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 400 FOLLOWERS)

tag list: none for this character yet

#cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #cardan x reader #cardan greenbriar x reader

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting upset at my best friend for calling me a hoarder in passing?

My (29NB) best friend (also 29NB) have been going through major crises lately at the same time—we will call them Sun. So, yesterday, they sent me a text, when we weee talking about how they haven’t wanted to be over at my house for a while, mostly bc they don’t like my partner…although the subject was in discussion bc my partner and I are splitting up, and I will be living alone again in a couple months. At some point in this discussion, they mentioned the more pressing matter that’s caused them not to be over as much is that they are very allergic to one of my cats—but only the one I just adopted a couple years ago, they’ve had no allergy issues w the other one and they love her very much, she is their niece.

However, at one point, they mentioned that a few years ago, when I was using drugs a lot more irresponsibly than usual—to the point where I got injured from falling down the stairs—they had been speaking to my other close friends. Which is appreciated, and I knew about this already obviously since there was an intervention that happened around that time…the way they mentioned this was upsetting. Specifically, they mentioned that “they approached [other friend of mine] about my drug use bc they thought I was becoming a hoarder” and that MAJORLY triggered me—specifically the hoarder comment. The woman who gave birth to me/raised me is a hoarder, which is a well known fact to just about anyone who is close to me irl, especially anyone who’s known her irl, and ESPECIALLY Sun, who worked as her caregiver for quite a while. Also being compared to/told I am just like my abusive egg donor is the thing that will hurt me the most, bc she is the most cruel, manipulative, abusive people I’ve ever had in my life.

So the thing is, my house is indeed very messy…I have too much junk around, and it’s very difficult for me physically to keep anything clean. It’s actually one of the reasons I’m separating from my partner, and as ashamed as I am about it, I understand. However, it’s not a hoarding disorder at all—I don’t hold onto anything I don’t need out of sentimentality, and if I could wave a magic wand and simply get rid of all the extra shit I don’t need/make everything nice and clean, I would. Unfortunately, I am very disabled with too many chronic pain/fatigue conditions, and actually cleaning the house/sorting through shit to get rid of takes immense physical effort. But whenever someone offers to help me, I jump at those opportunities! I take things to be donated all the time (if I’m able to sort through the stuff that needs to go) and it’s entire worlds different than my egg donor refusing to give up several bins of my baby clothes bc she can’t bear to part with them, despite them never seeing use in her possession ever again.

So, I responded to Sun’s mention of a past conversation thinking I’m a hoarder, with offense and saying it hurt me. We had been discussing just downsizing and how we will be going through my stuff as we pack for the new place, and had mentioned that I should make sure to get rid of certain clothing things if they have holes/are worn out/whatever, which to me, sounded like they think I have a hard time throwing clothes away even if they’re not even wearable anymore. With that and the hoarding accusation in mind, I told them I was very hurt by this. I made sure to be respectful and kind yet assertive, but after explaining how this was an unfair assumption/description of me, they got upset and said I should’ve asked for clarification before coming at them.

Now, do me, I wouldn’t have even considered they meant anything other than how I interpreted it, so it would never have even occurred to me to ask for clarification if I’m not even aware there’s a miscommunication. Apparently, the reason they mentioned getting rid of clothes that have been too worn out is an issue they have themselves, but this isn’t anything I was ever aware of, and once again never would’ve thought was referring to anyone but me. They also say they’re aware that it’s my physical difficulties that make cleaning physically painful for me…but honestly, that’s not anywhere near the same as having a hoarding disorder, which is indeed what they’d accused me of.

Of course, I know the both of us overreacted—me, being offended about being accused of being a hoarder (especially since my immense difficulty cleaning the house is part of why I’m separating from my partner and is therefore something I’m incredibly sensitive about right now) and them, being offended that I took what they said wrong and being upset over some things they didn’t actually intend w what they said…but I’m just not sure if maybe I AM in the wrong here, for expressing being hurt by being called a hoarder here, or if I really am making the entire thing a big deal out of nothing.

So, AITA for voicing my offense at being called a hoarder?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[quitealotofsodapop]

Would it just be perfect timing if MK had decided it was time to hatch during the trial for Macaque's soul? Like, Wukong be there spinning this sob story (that's actually mostly true for once) about how he jsut wanted to ensure his child could comenintot he world safely and it would be so very cruel to drag his Bama to Diyu before be even has a chance to see their precious little one! Then Wukong suddenly freezes, ever god and goddess of childbirth, motherhood, and children present suddenly tenses, and the court goes silent.

Wikong jsut whispers out: Oh... the baby.

And suddenly, they're all hurrying to get Wukong to the infirmary or his quarters (the original ones built for him when he first became the Great Sage and before he ruined the festival, nobkdy had bothered to remodel them), anywhere really so long as it's not in the middle of the FREAKING THRONE ROOM!! The good news, literally every maternity god and goddess is there to play wetnurse and tend to Wukong or help keep Macaque calmed (a job that mainly falls to Nez Ha because Macaque is very much freaking out). Bad news is that Wukogn was REALLY hoping his egg would have picked a better time and place because the Heavenly Court and being tended to by the Queen Mother herself (she's THE mother goddess of China, guys, she'llhe involved alongside Guanyin) and every other god remotely related to his child wasn't in his list things he wanted to do. One unexpected benefit of this was that after all was said and done, Sun Qi Xiaoation's arrival had actually helped to push the trial into Wukong's favor since not a lot of people are willing to separate a new mother from her mate right after giving birth, although Wukong will be forced to spend several weeks if not months in the Celestial Realm afterwards during his recovery.

referencing SWK in Heaven's Court.

Oh gosh just imagine. The Stone Egg has been comfortably baking for nearly 500 years, it's parent is awake and has been reunited with their mate, and they're being exposed to a lot of healthy divine magical energy.

So when Wukong steps into the Jade Palace, its like a countdown to when the Egg decides "Hey Imma hatch like right now."

More writting under read more cus talk of childbirth stuff;

Continue'd;

The trial for Macaque's soul and LBD's contract takes hours to resolve, and Wukong is getting more and more frustrated as it drags on, even with Fire Star's amazing lawyer-ing.

Doesn't help that Wukong's stomach has been feeling like a washing machine all day and he seems to have mega indigestion that won't go away. A bunch of gods also keep looking at him with weird concerned glances - Weirdos.

Then, after Wukong is forced to explain his condition/why he sought out immortality in the first place - a small trickle is heard in the quiet courtroom.

Wukong quickly looks down, super embarassed thinking he's lost control of his body - only for him and the witnesses to notice that the liquid is clear.

Complete and utter chaos breaks out in the Throne Room as the situation sinks in.

Someone is giving birth in the Throne Room of the Jade Emperor. And it's THE MONKEY KING!!!

Guanyin, in the defence's side: "BED. NOW." (*Wukong is lifted up by Pigsy and Sandy into a soft cloud-like bed and is brought to the nearest guest room. A bunch of maternity gods follow them, including the Queen Mother herself. Nezha escorts Macaque in seeing how the Shadow Monkey is handcuffed.*) Wukong: "H-hey! I thought the water breaking can still mean a few hours to go!" Guanyin: "Normally yes. But it seems you've been in active labor since the trial started. Your baby wants out now." Wukong: "You sure-OW!" *contractions get stronger* "Yep! It's trying to bust out all right!"

The room has to be closed off from lookyloos as it's already stuffed with at least ten people - most family or gods. Nezha and Sandy are helping Macaque breathe slowly as the shadow monkey/other parent of the baby (at least according to what was heard in the trial) is panicking like any other bama would.

Tang and Princess Iron Fan are at Wukong's side, holding his hand as any good family would, wondering how thrilled DBK would have been to be here. PIF is glad that the Ao-Long couple agreed to babysit little Redson on earth during the Trial, as she's certain that her fireball would have bitten and charged at anyone that came close to his favorite monkey. Pigsy is outside the guest room with all the royal court members, offering to make them some coffee and noodles as he makes some calls to earth - they agree but are a bit confused why Marshal Tianpeng is here and why his cooking is so good?

The Queen Mother is ultimately the one who catches the cracking egg-shaped thing as Wukong pushes it out into the world. Within seconds of touching the air, the shell of the egg practically explodes, leaving a tiny, screaming newborn in the Goddess's palm.

Wukong is sobbing with joy as he hears the healthy crying chirps coming from his baby. He sees them squirming as Guanyin washes remnants of the Stone Egg from their body. His little one is so strong and perfect already.

Macaque escapes his bindings via shadow portal (Nezha: "Hey!") to join his mate on the bed, no god moves to stop him. Mac doesn't last long before he's crying into Wukong's neck at the sight of *their* cub. The cub is quickly wrapped in the shadow monkey's (thankfully laundered) red scarf before being passed into Wukong's excited arms.

The baby isn't a direct copy of the Monkey King. Their face marking is a brownish half-heart that scatters into freckles at their chubby cheeks. Their fur is a silky brown-black almost the texture and shade of Macaque's(!!). They keep their eyes closed for the moment, far more interested in latching on to their birth parent's chest for their first meal.

And if Wukong doesn't feel like he's holding a little piece of heaven in his arms right now, he'd be lying to himself.

Wukong: "Xiaotian. You are my Xiaotian."

A series of quiet Awws ripples through the room and into the hallway beyond the closed doors. The Queen Mother even smiles.

SWK wins his case against Heaven and Diyu for his mate's soul. Even the gods can't bare to separate this new family. Preparations are made to apprehend the Lady Bone Demon for creating a geas that violated Diyu's laws.

PIF pays Fire Star generously for their lawyering.

#century stone egg au #stone egg talk #childbirth tw #pregnancy tw #sun wukong #liu er mihou #six eared macaque #shadowpeach #qi xiaotian #lmk aus #lego monkie kid #lmk

[cherrimilk]

✧ cruel summer s.p smau | chapter one

⤷ character profiles | next

⤷ notes | this is more of an introduction than an actual proper proper chapter. also you can tell i have a bias for kenny pookie, but dw i’ll give kyle more love next chap fr

you took one last look at the messages between you and your brother, before sighing and switching it off.

you stared out the car window of your parents truck, watching the blur of the world around you pass by as your mind raced with thoughts.

you were excited to be back, you missed the small town far more than you’d ever admit. but you were also worried. terribly worried. you hadn’t spoken to anyone else other than your brother and family since you left five years ago.

your friends, the friend group you and stan had been in since birth basically, hadn’t heard nor seen you in five whole years.

what if you didn’t fit in with the group anymore? or the guys secretly don’t give a shit about you anymore and are just lying to stan about missing you because he’s their best friend? what if they-

“and we’re here! welcome to the farm!” your mom’s voice from besides you pulled you from the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. you were so deep in your spiralling thoughts that you didn’t notice your mom pulling up to the farm and parking the car.

you got up out of the car, shutting the door behind you. “dad’s… somewhere. you know how he is. but he’ll be home soon don’t worry.” your mom explained, and you just hummed in response.

you stood, admiring what would be your home for the summer. you wished you could’ve seen your old house, but the farm actually looked pretty nice. it was oddly relaxing on the farm, quite different from the town-

“boo!”

“AHH FUCK OFF FUCKYOU-oh my god stan!”

after recovering from the initial shock of your brother coming up behind you and scaring you, you threw your arms around him, nearly knocking the wind out of him from how quickly you did so. you were half expecting him to push you off and call you a dumbass, but instead he actually wrapped his arms around you.

he did push you off three seconds later though, he said ‘no hug should last longer than three seconds’.

you stared at your brother, you honestly felt a little emotional seeing him again. the last time you saw each other was two years ago when him, shelly and your parents visited you in new york. he looked so much older than the last time, and being back home and back with your family was making you want to cry. you were happy to be back. you wanted to tell stan your thoughts, but you were far too shy to.

so you opted for just saying ‘i missed you stan.’

you didn’t expect him to respond, you knew how stan was. but he did, a quick little ‘missed you too’ that made your eyes widen.

“first you hug me and then you tell me you missed me? who are you bro? oh my god, oh my god did you like. puke too hard? did you puke too hard and then like uhm. like your brain got all scrambled and reprogrammed from how hard you puked and now you’re like-“ “y/n i swear to god if you don’t shut up i’ll kick your ass back on that fucking plane.” stan deadpanned, and you snorted, trying hard not to burst into laughter.

“stan help y/n with her bags, maybe you can ask the boys too. i’m gonna go get started on y/n’s special coming back dinner! i missed you so much sweetie.” your mom exclaimed, coming over to you to kiss your cheek and making her way inside the house.

you furrowed your eyebrows.

“the boys?”

“hey y/n!”

you turned your head to the direction of whoever just called your name - which came from the front door of your house. your eyes widening as soon as you saw them.

you hadn’t seen them in five years, but you immediately knew who they were.

kenny, kyle and eric.

“you said we would see them tomorrow!”

“yeah and i lied. don’t puke.”

normally you would’ve been mad at stan for lying like that, but you appreciated it greatly this time. because the minute you saw the boys, every last drop of anxiety left your body.

you were so fucking happy to see them.

you ran towards them without a second thought, basically jumping on kyle - who was right in front of the other two, wrapping your arms around him tightly. your head was in his chest, so you failed to notice how his cheeks had turned the slightest shade of red. nor the glare that kenny sent him for a split second when he noticed kyle’s reaction to your hug.

you separated from the ginger, admiring the boy in front of you properly for the first time. he definitely matured in the last five years, but he still had quite the baby face in your opinion. he was really, really cute. and he was still wearing that green ushanka, the colour now a faded dull green. tendrils of curly red hair sticking out from underneath the hat.

“oh my god. you look- you look the same. but so different. oh my god. still wearing that hat too, i’m getting you a new one tomorrow,” kyle chuckled at your words, looking down at you and smiling softly. his lips parted as if he were going to say something, but stopped abruptly as kenny stepped between you two with his arms outstretched.

“my turn!” the male exclaimed. “kenny!” you giggled, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around his torso. kenny squeezed you tightly, lifting you up off the floor slightly.

and this time, you didn’t see the way kyle’s jaw clenched for just a second.

you unwrapped your arms from kenny, who was staring at you with a smirk that made your cheeks heat up. you felt a bit shy under his gaze. you always used to though, you vaguely remember being ten and having a crush on him (and most of the girls your age in town did too). you never told him or stan though - obviously. and now that here he was staring at you, blonde hair in a messy wolfcut that you could 100% tell him or one of the boys cut, with that pretty smirk that was making your stomach swirl.

you could already feel that crush coming back.

“you’re staring pretty,” kenny said it loud enough for only you to hear, he didn’t want your brother kicking his ass. you shook your head, pretty damn flustered. but still trying to hold down the smile that was creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes.

“fuck you kenny.”

“anytime.” he again said it loud enough for only you to hear, and this time you couldn’t control the way your eyes widened and cheeks flared red. quickly turning your face away from him and directing it towards cartman, who was behind kenny and kyle, looking uninterested.

“hey cartman.”

“sup y/n.”

you two awkwardly stood in silence for a second, you never really liked eric. but then again none of your friends did all that much either anyways when you were younger.

but you knew alot could have changed in five years, and you also knew that if stan, kenny and kyle were still friends with him he just had to have gotten somewhat likeable.

and you missed him a little too.

“you get one too eric. come on.” eric pretended to look uninterested, faux gagging. but he hugged you back - albeit awkwardly, when you went in to hug the male.

you stepped back, staring at the group of boys surrounding you with probably the biggest smile you’ve had in five years.

you were happy to be back.

cherry’s facts | the reason y/n left south park was because she got the chance to attend an arts and culture focused school in new york. there she lived with her aunt for the past five years, and she hasn’t been home until now! her family did visit her in new york though.

cherry’s taglist (open!) | @corpseinpink @gsp420 @neenieweenie @lavender-pink-socks @elizabethnightingale4 @good-mourning0 @jaeclawsstudios @suddenlybambi @ryanmypoorlittlemeowmeow @staarshuu @minaethrym @rollin-with-the-lgbt @sula0kim @sydney153 @stephs-inluv @chickledee-slays @seraphsins @painfullyghst bold means i tag you :(

#south park smau #south park x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick sp #kenny mccormick x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski sp #stan marsh #south park #south park x y/n #south park x you

[greiiliss]

After this episode I have so many thoughts and feelings about the Oak-(Swallows)-Garcia men/boys that I absolutely need to write down:

Henry saw his father's example of how to treat people, and decided he wanted to be nothing like it, so he became kind and compassionate and deeply, deeply caring. And he tried to pass this onto his sons because he wanted the hurt that he went through as a child to end with him.

But Henry didn't have any good examples of how to be a parent. His father was dismissive and cruel, and his mother apathetic and afraid. He had no one to show him how to teach and guide his sons, and he was afraid of over-managing their lives the way his father had, so he erred on the side of giving them ample space to figure things out on their own and supporting them as best he can.

So the twins are told from birth that they are loved unconditionally, that no matter what they will be forgiven. They are told this so much it practically becomes white noise to them. Even if they burn down their classroom, or destroy the tree in the front yard, or start a cult in a city in another realm, their dad might get mad for a bit, but he won't really do anything about it, and it'll all be okay, he'll laugh it off and tell them how much he loves them. They're having fun, it's not like they've done anything that serious!

Until suddenly, they have done something very serious. They have done something so horrible that it very nearly ended the world entirely. What did they expect would happen afterward, do you think? I imagine that they thought -that Lark at the very least thought- that Henry would be furious with them. If there was anything for Henry to be really mad at them about, to never forgive them for, it has to be this, right?

But... he's not. Henry doesn't blame them, and when they blame themselves he says that he forgives them? This doesn't make sense to them, and we can know that this doesn't make sense to them, because Lark's spent the past few weeks hating Henry because of Walter's injury, something Henry was only indirectly involved in. We don't even know if Lark ever forgave Henry, so what reason would he have to assume his father would ever forgive him for doing something infinitely worse?

The twins are scared, because they think they should be hated, and they don't understand the unconditional love and forgiveness that their father is offering them. So Lark does what many scared and confused people do: he lashes out at what he doesn't understand. Every time Henry tells him he's not to blame for what happened, or that he loves him, or that he forgives him, Lark rejects it.

Sparrow takes a different approach. He's already been told that he needs to be a "love wolf", but he's only really taken in that lesson in a "letter of the law" kind of way. So he tries to be nice. He says the nice things, marries the nice woman, and he says the "right" things when he gets angry to try and absolve himself of all blame. He's trying to emulate his father's approach to life, but he doesn't actually understand it, so his actions are hollow, and quite often ingenuine. And he blames himself for the Doodler's release just as much as Lark does, so he also feels that he's fundamentally unlovable. He marries a woman who cheats on him because why should it matter that she maybe doesn't love him when no one ever will?

If you believe yourself to be unlovable because of something you've done, you don't believe in unconditional love, so it is impossible for you to give unconditional love.

This is the environment Normal is raised in, with a mother incapable of sharing her own opinions out of a dedication to centrism, and two father figures who believe themselves to be fundamentally unlovable and are therefore incapable of extending unconditional love to anyone else. There are conditions that he needs to meet in order to be loved by his dad, and he doesn't meet them. He probably hasn't for awhile, but he only really realized it recently when Sparrow just told him outright.

And the incredible thing about Normal? This doesn't break him. He holds onto his identity even though he's hurt and upset that his father isn't proud of him. Normal saw his father's example of how to treat people and decided he wanted to be nothing like it, so he apologizes for yelling at Taylor, and he stands up for himself, and he still loves his family even though they've hurt him. Just like his grandfather did, Normal was raised in an environment that tried to stifle him and separate him from other people, and instead chose to love himself and others as much as he possibly can.

And this difference between the generations is illustrated so well through Lark/Normal looking into the Doodler's mind:

Lark sees inside the Doodler's mind, sees that it wants to be loved, sees that it's hurt people without meaning to, fucking sees himself in it, and decides that it deserves to die.

Normal sees inside the Doodler's mind, sees that it wants to be loved, sees how things always go wrong when it tries to reach out for that love, sees himself in the Doodler, and he decides that the Doodler needs help.

(And you just know that if Henry had been the one to see inside its head instead of Lark, he would've done the exact same thing. Normal is such a good character to carry on Henry's legacy, it makes me want to fucking cry.)

#dndads #dndaddies #dungeons and daddies #dndads spoilers #normal oak #henry oak #lark oak garcia #sparrow oak garcia #i did not intend for this to be this long but once I started typing i physically could not stop lol #i just love characters who are fundamentally about love #greii talks

[lazycats-stuff]

The New Heir - Prologue

Alright, the awaited multichapter, actual plot series! I'm excited, feedback will be greatly appreciated, don't hold back. I don't know how many chapters there will be, so everyone, including me, will be taken for a ride. It's also Batfam & male!reader, so I'm excited! There are also OCs here, so if you don't like them you can stop here. Also, first time making this aesthetic Warnings: child birth, hints towards a backstory, hints towards the potential father,

20.5.2011.

The state of New Jersey, Gotham City. It was the dead of night and screams ripped the usually quiet halls of the hospital. It all came from the maternity ward, where Natalia Rose Callahan was giving birth. This baby wasn't an easy one and it seemed like it didn't want to leave the Natalia's womb. The baby seemed quite content to stay there forever, seemingly knowing that the world was a cruel place.

Natalia was alone, the only company nurses and doctors, who were making sure that the baby coming out of her was healthy. There wasn't anyone outside of the room for Natalia. Natalia was in a world of pain, but she was used to it. For the last 20 years of her life, pain and healing was all she was doing.

She was the bringer of pain and death and yet, she was giving birth to a new life.

How ironic.

Her head was swimming, not a single coherent thought inside, only get this baby out now and my God help me. She let out another scream and she let her head fall down onto the pillow. Her sweaty hair was stuck to her forehead, evidence of the fight she is going through. She was going to get through this, she did go through this before, but she was put under.

Maybe she should have opted for a C-section too. Or an epidural. But not this.

She heard the doctor tell her, just one more final push. She took a deep breath through her teeth and when she felt a contraction she pushed, nurses holding onto her hand, helping her through this with soothing and encouraging words.

Natalia Rose Callahan closed her eyes as she heard a baby's cry. She heard shuffling and the doctor was telling her about the placenta and the umbilical cord, but she didn't care at this point.

She just wanted to hold her son. She heard him somewhere else in the room, crying and then silence.

Would he turn out like his father? Would he be ruthless as his father? Merciless? Sadistic? Evil?

She barely opened her eyes. It felt like her eyes were taped shut and she was fighting against it. She smiled as she took her son into her hands. She cried as the nurse helped her place her infant son on her bare chest, the baby calming down instantly.

Natalia cried for a long while. Some were happy tears and some were tears of sadness. Her son was finally here, in her arms, thousands miles away from her old life and back in the place where he belongs.

But at the same time she wondered how did she allow him to get her pregnant once more. Did she love him? More than anything. And she knew, that deep down, he loved her too. But was that the life for her son? A life of pain? A life of destruction?

A life full of grooming to take over?

Only purpose to be an heir?

When Natalia stopped crying, she looked down at her son. He opened his dark blue eyes and Natalia knew that she was going to break the cycle. One way or another.

Her son wasn't going to be born into her old life. When she gets out of the hospital, her son will step into the new life. And with his step into a new life, she will shed her old self, like a snake.

She will adapt. She was surviving before, but she won't anymore. She will live. She will do whatever it takes to protect her son. He won't live in fear.

She won't let it happen.

" Do you have a name mom? " The nurse asked as she came in to see how the duo was doing.

" Elias Spencer Callahan. " Natalia said, smiling down at her son.

" Such a beautiful name mom. But I'm afraid that I have to take little Elias. " The nurse said as she wrote the full name down.

Natalia nodded and with a last kiss, she handed her son over. The nurse cooed at Elias, putting him into the special crib, just near her.

" Rest up mom. You will need it. " The nurse said with a smile, leaving the room.

Natalia closed her eyes, ready to fall asleep, but woke up when she heard the door opening.

" Hello Aseel. " Natalia said tiredly, smiling at the old friend.

Aseel chuckled, walking towards the bed, giving her a kiss on the forehead. He gripped her hand for a moment, before letting go. He walked up quietly to his nephew. Although not related, Natalia looked at Aseel as an older brother.

He looked down at the baby. The baby fell asleep. Aseel felt a tear fall down on his face. He wiped the tear away.

" What's his name? " Aseel asked, watching as the baby's face scrunched up a little bit.

" Elias Spencer Callahan. " Natalia said, turning her head to the side.

Aseel nodded, gently caressing the baby's face with his pointer finger. He washed his hands before this. Natalia could smell the scent of soap. Something... Floral?

" I can see that something is bothering you Aseel. What is it? " Natalia pressed, making Aseel sigh.

" He kind of looks like his father. "

" But he has my eyes. " Natalia said softly, making Aseel smile. She did have gorgeous blue eyes.

" I don't doubt it. I took care of everything. You and little Elias are going to be fine. " Aseel said, moving back to Natalia. He took a chair and sat down next to the bed.

" Something else is bothering you. " Natalia said, closing her eyes for a moment.

" I love my unofficial nephew, but... Was it wise to have him? You gave the bastard an heir. A male heir. " Aseel said, jaw clenching at the thought of Elias' father.

" The baby isn't at fault. And he never will. He didn't ask for this. And I will do whatever it takes to make sure that he is safe. " Natalia said, clenching her fists.

" Does that include that you will teach him how to fight? "

" Yes. But it will be more fun. "

Aseel snorted quietly, rubbing his eyes.

" You should sleep Nat. You look almost dead. " Aseel joked, standing up from the chair.

" I will don't worry. "

" I will go to your apartment to get it ready. "

" Thank you Aseel. For protecting us and for helping me. " Natalia said, finally falling asleep.

" Always my sister. Dayiman akhti. " Aseel said, giving her a kiss to the forehead. He walked over quietly to the little baby. Elias was so untouched by the world and its cruelty.

" And I will always protect you. " Aseel whispered softly. Aseel chuckled quietly after a funny thought. The kid is going to have a year round tan. And very good skin complexion.

But there was something else that entered Aseel's mind. The sheer protective feelings and a feeling he thought he would never feel. Paternal love. This baby, this boy was going to be loved so much.

Elias Spencer Callahan was going to be okay. Aseel al-Dawood swore to whatever deity was listening.

Translations: Dayiman akhti - Always my sister

#bruce wayne x oc #dc comics #dc x oc reader #OC character #batfamily #platonic relationships

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Protective

Warnings:  fluff, self loathing, hateful words/comments, insecurities, struggle with body image.

You had insecurities, hell everyone did but yours specially drained you to the point of exhaustion. Some days were better than others but just one rude comments could ruin your entire week. Some may call it stupid or even silly but you were sensitive, even to harsh comments. You tried to put up a tough demeanour and act like you had a thick skin but in actuality every word knocked down the steps you were building yourself, the steps where you tried to better your insecurities... the steps that would ultimately come crashing down.

"I honestly give up, fucking bullshit, fucking assholes, bastards absolute fuckturds"

Your words came out in a harsh way as you dropped your bag onto the floor kicking the apartment door shut with the heel of your shoe, your best friend river who sat in his gaming chair turning to look at you "what happened?" He asked placing the Xbox controller down onto the coffee table and removing his headphones as he stood up making his way towards you a concerned look on his features,

River was your best friend since childhood, you both grew up together and lived together, you were besties since birth practically or well that's what you and him joked about at least. He was born in the morning and you were born in the evening- late evening, so you're both the same age but he's slightly older and he being the pain in the ass that he is liked to brag about that. Constantly.

As you paced back and forth he watched on with the same confused yet worried look on his face "I was helping a customer... as you do and then suddenly he got angry at me." You said throwing your arms up into the air in defeat as river raised his brows at you "that's retail for you" he said with a soft chuckle being able to empathise with you completely "he continued to make the issue bigger and then he got my manager and my manager got pissy at me" you said anger on your face "been there done that" he said with an empathetic smile "but you know what? This is the cherry on top seriously- the customer got angry at me because I was helping another customer and he couldn't have the patience to wait! And then he called me a fat bitch!" You yelled on the verge of tears rivers eyes widening "he did not" he said in shock that someone would be so cruel.

"I'm so sorry" he said wrapping his arms around you in a comforting hug as he instinctively swayed the both of you back and forth in a comforting assuring manner "don't let it bother you, you're beautiful inside and out" he said with a soft smile, your anger dispersing at his words. He was truly so soothing, he was your best friend of course but sometimes you felt awful as you didn't want it to seem like you were using him as your personal "therapist" but you knew he was simply doing what friends do. "And my manager wants me to work tomorrow now as well, saying if it happens again I'm losing my job." You whispered "and if that happens then that's okay... you're easily likeable and have a wonderful personality. You'll get another job instantly. I promise. And besides you've got me to help you... and remember, it isn't what you know it's who you know" he said beaming, throwing a playful wink into the mix.

————

That next day- well you didn't have high hopes for it and well your assumptions were correct. It was absolute hell. Actually no- it was being dragged through hell by your hair then dragged back into hell then back through the other way. So yes. Hell but burning burning hell. Your manager was up your ass all the time watching your every move and you felt like you were walking on eggshells around him. As you were putting some loafs of bread onto the shelf you heard a commotion but paid no mind to it. "Her!" A sudden yell grabbed your attention as the man whom had an issue with you yesterday was back once again "she's the fat bitch who didn't satisfy my needs yesterday! Her! Slutty bitch" he spat out his words feeling like acid burning into your heart but you kept your cool staring him down "you done?" You asked your manager staring holes into you, but surely he would side with you- correct? "In fact I am not done! You useless pathetic miserable ignorant human being, you're lucky the world has space for you" he said, clearly on something. He wasn't sober. That was for sure.

His yelling was gaining quite an audience as customers stopped and stared "sir, please just lower your voice" you said calmly feeling belittled by him. He was far much more taller than you and slightly chubby and you knew he would hurt you if he really wanted to. "I will NOT lower my voice you useless bitch! You earn what?! $5.00 an hour? Huh? Well I earn far much more you useless fucking whore. Maybe instead of wasting your life away here you should go exercise before you have a heart attack" tears immediately pooled in your eyes. Was he right? Was he only spitting facts? Maybe he was right?

But before your thoughts could go on any longer you were snapped out of your thoughts but another males voice "is there an issue here?" "Yea there is an issue! This stupid whore of a woman didn't-" but before the bully could continue his words the man had cut him off "gods who hurt you? That's some real pent up rage." The voice was deep and as you turned to look at the man who was actually seemingly stopping the man from yelling you had to stop your jaw from dropping. He had dark hair that was accompanied with luscious curls, his eyes green and sharp and the tattoos that littered his skin... well woah... he was handsome, far too handsome to even be real. No way was he real. He stood beside you his frame tall and menacing but he seemed kind... soft almost. "No one hurt me. But this bitch right here didn't do what I told her to do! She's such a insufferable piece of sh-" but before the man could continue the other man was quick to stand in front of you "dude shut the hell up. You aren't going to get anywhere by discriminating on her. Just leave" He said coldly, his tone dark and unsettling. "I will leave once she gives me what I want!" He yelled and he sighed straightening his posture, the muscles in his back pressing against the thin white shirt he wore as he looked towards the entrance of the store nodding his head and within milliseconds two men in suits walked in, nodding at the mysterious man before stopping in front of the man who continued to insult you "sir you can either come with us willingly or we'll force you" the suited man said, sunglasses adorning his eyes and within seconds he was dragged out of there deathly silent.

The man then slowly turned around, you were then able to get a better look at his face, his skin was perfect- clear... beautiful. The cross pendant on his chest moved ever so slightly as he shifted his weight onto his other foot as he seemingly studied you, his eyes staring into yours. "Uh, thank you... for that." You said with a shy smile and he shook his head, a charming but small smile on his face "don't mention it." He then stuck his hand out towards you "I'm Harry, pleasure to meet you" you glanced down at his hand large rings adorned his fingers but you quickly snapped out of it taking his hand and shaking it "nice to meet you too, Harry. I'm y/n... just y/n" you just a small shy smile staying on your lips "well, just y/n- that asshole of a man won't be bothering you again for a while I assure you" he said the charming smile remaining on his plump lips. "Thank you" you said gently, appreciation remaining on your face as you smiled gratefully at him. "He's been bothering me for a while... saying the same stuff" you said a glimpse of pain forming on your face but you quickly shoved that away but you were quite sure he noticed it by the look on his face, he either chose to ignore it or just didn't notice it at all and you simply hoped it was the second option. You didn't want to seem weak in front of such a handsome kind man. "Seriously?" Harry asked seemingly incredibly concerned "doesnt your manager do something about him?" He asked and you stared at him before letting out a laugh, a slight scoff soon followed "he hates me. Despises me so sides with him daily. Yesterday I couldn't help him due to the fact I was helping another customer and then he yells at me calls me all the names under the sun and yet my manager sides with him" you admitted a frown forming on his godly features "unbelievable..." he whispered shaking his head as he gazed around obviously searching the shop for the manager into which you were quick to stop him from confronting your manager "but it doesn't matter... he's gone now that's all that matters" you said seemingly silencing Harry's next colourful words that he would say about your manager. You looked at the clock on the wall as you smiled sheepishly at him "I'd love to talk more but I've got to continue working I'm so sorry" you said apologetically and he shook his head "don't mention it, it's okay. I'm sure I'll see you around. Have a good rest of your day y/n" he said maintaining eye contact with you for a few moments longer before turning around and walking out of the automatic doors.

You continued working. Bored. Alone. Tired as fuck. It was nearing 7.00 and it was already dark outside, the street lights giving practically no light to the pavement. "Gonna be a joy to walk home in" you muttered to yourself checking the clock again. 20 minutes to go. The hands on the clock ticked by slowly, and before you knew it it was home-time. You grabbed your bag and coat before making your way out of the doors letting out a sigh of relief. Freedom. Finally.

The cold breeze brushed against your cheeks and you let out a breath as you closed your eyes admiring the peace and the gentle sound of cars driving around, you slowly opened your eyes only to come face to face with a familiar man "y/n?" He asked, his voice unsure and you stared at him in awe, how did he remember your name? No way would such a handsome man even pay any attention to you but he was... "what are you doing walking home alone? It's so dark" he said concerned and you studied his features before glancing around "where's your car?" You asked and he gazed at you, chuckling "just over there. Just finished work" he said the dim lights barely acknowledging the suit he wore. "Oh I didn't realise you worked around here" you murmured and he smiled nodding his head. "You still didn't answer my question" he said with a cheeky charming smile and you let out a soft laugh "I don't drive and I don't fancy spending my earnings on a cab" you admitted, shrugging your shoulders "Let me drive you home." He offered with a small smile "no, no need I'm perfectly fine walking."

"I insist"

The simple sentence made you fall silent as you simply smiled, no man other than river had been this kind to you... they had all just shrugged you off or paid no attention to you but Harry... he seemed to care. "I guess I don't have a choice in the matter?" You asked with a small shy smile knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer before you exhaled looking up into his eyes "if you're sure" you said gently and he simply smiled his eyes glistening with kindness "I'm 100% sure.... Besides, I'd prefer for you to come home with me instead of getting mugged" he said looking into your eyes, his hand gently moving to glide against your back as he guided you across the road... why did he care for your safety? Why did he want to care? Why did he care about you?

You stared out the window, watching the city go by as the both of you drove in silence. You had told him your address and he had assured you he knew where it was due to the fact he drove past that part of town every time he made his way to work. The silence between you two was thick but comfortable, you didn't know where to start, your brain mainly focused on the fact that such a handsome man would care for you. You just couldn't wrap your head around it at all. "Can I ask you something?" He asked and you glanced at him briefly, the rings that adorned his fingers sat lightly on the steering wheel, his fingertips gently rubbing against the material of the steering wheel "sure" you agreed with a small smile as you focused on his face getting lost in the fact his jawline was so sharp... he was just perfect. Gods. "Why don't you leave your work?" He asked, "your manager is a prick and you deserve better" he said and you let out a soft laugh "trust me I've thought about leaving. Everyday. For the last few months but I don't want to be left skint." You said softly with a light shrug "the only way I'm able to survive this living crisis is by working my ass off at this damned shop! I get paid good but every week it goes down. And down. And down. I just swear if I leave this job I'm going to be on the streets and I-I... I don't think I'd survive that" you explained, your voice raising more and more the further you spoke the shake in your tone only growing stronger but you soon noticed how the car was now stopped, pulled to the side of the road as Harry simply gazed at you, giving you his undivided attention his green eyes glistening in the light like some beautiful crystals. "But what if you could survive it, hm?"

You turned to look at him, the softness in his eyes making you practically melt as you sighed quietly "what do you mean?" You asked softly and he smiled "you've got a kind personality. You're wonderful. I doubt you'll be doing the same job by next year as you'll be moving onto something even better... why not make things better for yourself and do what you've always dreamed of?" He suggested, raising his brows and you smiled softly before shrugging "no one wants me..."

"Bullshit."

You frowned slowly looking at him "bullshit?" You questioned and he nodded "yes bullshit, y/n. I know I don't really know you but from what I've seen so far you're an incredibly smart, talented and kind woman who doesn't know how far she can truly go" he said a serious but soft smile on his lips. "Thank you... Harry..." you said quietly and he simply smiled, your eyes soon locking on the street and you recognised it immediately "oh, shit- I'm so sorry I didn't realise we were parked at my house" you said incredibly embarrassed and he shook his head "don't worry. I'm happy I could listen to you... and hopefully make you realise how you can still chase your dreams even at your lowest." he said softly.

A warm smile stayed on your face "I appreciate it. Seriously... can I offer you a drink? At my place?" Your eyes nearly fell out of your head at your own words. No way did you just say that to him. You were just digging yourself a grave weren't you? "As a proper thank you." You said and he gazed at you before smiling "I'd love that... if it's no trouble."

~

"So y/n tell me about yourself" Harry said holding a glass of Coke in his hand, he had assured you he wouldn't drink due to the fact he had to drive home. "Well I enjoy performing arts, everything and anything to do with acting, singing, dancing... writing even! You know?" You said beaming your eyes practically glistening with happiness and that made Harry's heart practically glow he had never seen someone with the amount of passion that you had. It was beautiful. "Well, why don't you do it? Do what you love?" He asked and you looked at him embarrassed "I would but.... Have you seen me? No one wants a fat slob on their stage. I'd take up all the room." You said forgetting who you were talking to as your cheeks flushed and you looked down "I'm so sorry" you said but he quickly grabbed a hold of your hand stopping you and you looked into your eyes "is that really what what you believe? Hollywood may be about the looks and all that fake bullshit- but acting in films or on stage is about your talent... what's inside of you what character you can build." He said with a smile. "Any director who says differently isn't a director. They're a judgemental piece of shit. And trust me I've dealt with those type of people... they aren't worth your time."

"Seriously?" He nodded his head smiling "seriously." He said gently. You sighed softly "I'm sorry for being such a downer... I'm just not confident at all... all my experiences with men have ended horribly" you said and he tilted his head to the side slightly "well then all those men are idiots." He said with a small smile giving your hand a light squeeze "men suck but you can't let them ruin your confidence and happiness... you especially can't let them ruin your self confidence with how you see yourself. Your body is your temple... your body is your home... treat yourself with respect." A small sad smile remained on your lips you wanted to believe him as he did make you feel somewhat confident but also intimidated. He held your hand in his grip "those men or well... I should say- those boys who hurt you... they're boys. Stupid boys who don't know what a real woman is. A real woman isn't perfect. No. A real woman is real. But that wouldn't matter to the right man as the right soulmate will always find their person perfect and you know what y/n?" He paused and you smiled "what?" You asked gently "you're perfect.... Let me show you how a real man should treat you."

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