#she refused to give him what he wanted. she chose her child over him. she stood up for herself and what she wanted.

[dirtytransmasc]

[mild tw for marital rape/forced 'consent' its only referenced a little, but it feels necessary to mention it]

imagine Alicent only standing up for herself when Aegon is in the picture. Imagine her talking her son to her chambers cause he's fussy and won't go down for bed and was asking for his mum, and she has him tucked close, blissfully asleep, and Viserys calls for her.

she knows she can't refuse, but she tells the servant he had sent to make him aware of Aegon's state. he still demands that she be brought to his chambers and that the babe go back to his nursemaid. she looks down at her baby, who's now woken due to the disturbance, who is staring up at her with soft tired eyes, a little yawn escaping him.

she doesn't want to go, she doesn't want to be forced to take her husband, to pleasure him at her own discomfort. she doesn't want to leave her son, to have him sent back to bed where he will remain restless and in the care of someone who is not his mother. she had never want to refuse more than she did in that moment.

she hesitates, her facade falters. Aegon is still looking up at her as tears well up in her eyes. he quirks his head at her, fingers reaching for her cheeks as if to comfort her. with a sudden conviction, she takes him in her arms, rising from the bed, requesting a robe and a blanket. when her servant looks at her in question, she clarifies that she will be taking Aegon with her and does not wish to rouse him in attempts to dress him. they look at her with shock, but don't voice the concern written on their faces.

they bring her Viserys's favorite robe. Alicent recognizes it from her time with Rhaenyra and Aemma. she's worn it before, Viserys has made sure the servants bring it to her every time he requests her. she hates the way it feels against her skin, knowing why he makes her wear it. she wraps aegon in his blanket, soft and royal blue, his hands beginning to play with its golden tassles as she tucks him inside her robe, pressed to her chest with care.

even as fear bites at her heels, anxiety churning her stomach, she walks to Viserys's chamber with her held high. she knows she is only asking for her husband's wrath; she knows she should just obey him, but she just can't. her son will not suffer a sleepless night and horrid following day all because her husband feels the need to use her body once more. he will not suffer at his father's hands tonight, even if she has to endure Viserys's anger for it.

she enters her husband's chambers, finding him in bed, in a white night gown, clearly ready to use her; he was never subtle when he asked for her, not even the first time.

she pauses in the doorway, pulling back the robe slightly, making him aware of Aegon's presence. she watches his face fall, barely muted anger. she holds onto Aegon tighter. part of her fears he may hurt her for this disturbance, but more of her fears he will hurt Aegon on her behalf.

"I told the damned servants to take him," his voice is warped and cruel, just an angry scowl of sorts.

"Aegon is not well, dear husband... I could not leave him," she admits before he can say anything else. she puts her foot forward as a mother, hoping to claim mercy from the man who made her one.

he mutters something in response, not quite loud enough for her to hear. she has a feeling she is grateful for that.

"what was it you needed, my dear?" she tries to sound sweet and kind, in attempts to abate his anger, "I'm sure I could still attend to it."

"you know what I wanted," he yelled. it had been the first time he'd truly raised his voice to her. she couldn't help but gasp, stepping back one step, than two, stopping when Aegon began to fuss, curling around him instead.

"Please Viserys, the baby." she ducks her head down to press her against his whispy white hair. her son his huffing, as if about to cry, and she's sure if she could see his face, his little cheeks would be red and his eyes would be crinkled and wet, his lip puckered. she begins to rock him slightly, still afraid to move.

"your'e dismissed," he grunts, but his tone gives it away. she knows he doesn't mean it, the if she leaves she will be in more trouble. she questions staying, calling a servant to take Aegon and giving him what he wants, but decides against it. he would not come before her son, not now, not ever.

"I'm sorry, my dear, another night, when I do not have Aegon to tend to," she forces some cheer into her tone, "he is still so young, so helpless. he needs his mother. I'm sure you understand?"

"he is not the only one in need of you." he had not lost his anger yet. not even for the sake of his son.

"yes, of course. forgive me. only he is not as understanding as you, my love." that wasn't the truth, Aegon was more kind and understanding at a year old, than viserys was in all of his years. "I will leave now. I am sorry for the disturbance."

she pauses for a moment, waiting for her husbands reaction. when he doesn't lash out at her, she breathes a quiet sigh of relief, feeling as though she has evaded a great beast. her heart calms in her chest, slowing from its fluttering and her stomachs stops its dizzing ache. she questions turning and running, fleeing from his presence before he can change his mind, but knows better.

she hurries to his side, eyeing him all the while, each step calculated, avoiding cracking any eggshells, until she is close enough to kiss his cheek. he allows it, and gives Aegon grace when he reaches out for him, letting him play with his finger a moment, before pulling it away, not even turning away fully before sneering. she takes that as her cue to leave, this one being much more genuine than the last.

"goodnight dear husband." he says nothing. she takes Aegon's little hand, waving it slightly, "say goodnight Aegon."

her son tries to imitate her, though unintelligible, as a toddler would. she continues to smile and coo at him even when his father ignores him, not letting him feel his father's scorn, quickly turning towards the door and back to her own chambers.

the second the door is close she feels herself sag, she would have fallen to the floor right then and there had there not been kingsgaurd watching. instead she holds her head high once more, walking calm and steady, like a queen should.

Aegon settles his forehead against her collar, giving a great yawn against her skin. she smiles at him fondly, kissing his brow, earning a tired little giggle from him. it hits her that he is unaware of the trouble he just saved her from. she feels equal parts relief as she does terror; she hopes he never knows, never understands, but is so so thankful for it none the less.

the second she steps into her chambers she pulls of the robe, setting it aside carefully despite the pain it brings her, respecting the memories it carried. she pulls back the covers before smothering her and her son amongst them. he's quick to curl against her, quite tuckered out after their harrowing adventure, even if he was unaware of its true weight. she herself still wanted to cry, but was similarly too tired to keep her eyes open for another moment. tomorrow, she tells herself, tomorrow will be difficult, but tonight you have your son, tonight you have a chance to rest.

so she does, she holds him close, tracing fingers over the gold threaded patterned of his blanket, feeling the shifting of his chest as he breathes and the tickle of his hair against her neck. all is well in that moment. she drifts to sleep at the thought.

#omage to Aemma's robe that we see alicent wearing in episode 3 (I believe. it was when she was helping bathe viserys) #cause I know he made her wear it cause he's a monster #this is set prior to Helaena's conception. aegon is tiny. and alicent is still naive to the true extents of viserys's abuse. #especially to the fact that despite all of the love she holds for her children and how badly she wishes to always pick them first #his abuse and the stockholm syndrom that follow it will turn her against her children. aegon in particular. #maybe not against. but acrid and foul. her pain overtaking her love. she still tries so hard to protect them though. if you get what I mean #its otto's fault too and they should both die #anyway #I'm just in my feels with these two #we didn't get enough scenes of them together especially when they were both young and I wanted to give alicent a moment were she fought bac #she refused to give him what he wanted. she chose her child over him. she stood up for herself and what she wanted. #she earned that moment #I know she was choking through those “my dears” and “my loves” but she had to for formalities sake #angst in the front fluff in the back #even if the fluff is laced with angst #letting alicent be soft and love her son #I needed it #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #alicent hightower #anti viserys i targaryen #pro team green #hotd #house of the dragon #I love them your honor

[getosbigballsack]

Random thought!

But just imagine 35 years old CEO Gojo Satoru falling in love with the young woman whom he hired to be his surrogate.

Desperate at this point to fulfill his role as CEO and the heir of his family clan, he knew he had no other choice but to find someone who would be willing to give birth to his child.

He thought his ex-wife was the one. After all, she was pregnant when they were still together. When the due date came around and Satoru heard that she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, he was over the moon until he saw the baby for himself.

He knew that that wasn't his baby. Blonde hair and green eyes? No one in his family had blonde hair and green eyes. So he asked for a DNA test. His ex-wife refused at first, but then she gave in, and when the test came back, the baby was 99.99%, not his child.

He was broken. He served her divorce papers the following day, and after everything he had done for her, this is how she chose to repay him. As if cheating wasn't enough, she had to get pregnant and gave birth to another man’s child.

So now here he is sitting in a cafe waiting for the surrogate.

...

You didn't have much of a choice. 26 years of age and still struggling to get your bachelor's degree just so that you could live a comfortable life and be financially stable.

But with the way things are right now, you knew that it was an impossible task to complete your final year. You could hardly manage to pay your school fee. You kept on getting rejection letters from student loans, and let's face it, you barely had time to study to even try to get a scholarship.

So now you're stuck looking for a quick and easy way to make money. You had little options, and prostitution just so happened to be one of them. And you almost turned to it, that's until you heard that a "rich" CEO was looking for a woman who was willing to give birth to his heir.

So now that's how you ended up in the situation to you're in currently. Nervously playing with your fingers as sat across from no other than Gojo Satoru.

"Your name is Y/N?"

"Yes, and you're Mr. Gojo Satoru."

He shook his head yes while taking a sip of his coffee. "I hope you don't mind meeting like this. I thought it would be better to meet in a more casual setting instead of my office. I don't want to intimidate you."

"That's fine, Mr. Gojo."

"Before we get started, are you sure you want to do this? I want you to be absolutely sure because once you sign the contract, there is no backing out of it."

You shook your head yes before responding, "it's something that I've thought about deeply, Mr. Gojo, and after reading through the contract a few times, I came to the conclusion that I would rather have a baby for a stranger who is willing pay to me more than what my school fee is worth than go and become a prostitute."

He was shocked by your words but said nothing of it. It wasn't his place to say anything or have any comment about your personal life.

"Well then, I guess we can go ahead and meet with our lawyers and sign the contract."

"Lawyers? I thought... I can't afford a lawyer right now," you said to him.

He chuckled, "I figured that that would be the case. No worries, I had already hired a lawyer for you."

"You did?" You asked. Just then, the door to the cafe burst opened, and in came a man and a woman dressed in suits.

"Ah, there they are. Right on time."

Gojo stood up and greeted the lawyers before he introduced you to them. The man, Mr. Nanami Kento is his lawyer, and the woman Tetsu Akari is your lawyer. First impression she has a kind and calm aura around her.

But let's move down the line.

You four all sat and discussed what was on the contract, and before you signed it, Gojo asked, "Is there anything that you need to clarify before signing the contract."

"Yes, uhm, it's about the procedure. Are we going to uhm... have... uhm intercourse to conceive the baby?"

"We could since it's the safe way to go about this, but no," he answered with a small smile on his face.

"Ok then, where do I sign."

This is the beginning of how Gojo Satoru fell in love with the woman he hired to be his surrogate.

#gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ Dad!Suguru

❖ Character: Geto

❖ Reader: female

❖ Summary: shortly after the events with the star plasma vessel Geto finds out you're pregnant. Will this change his life to the better?

❖ WARNINGS: mentions of pregnancy

❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! | Thank you to @littleoanh for letting me ramble and for putting fuel to the fire 🫶

ꕤ Dad!Suguru who asks you to repeat yourself when you break the news, dropping the cup of tea he was currently carrying over to you. He just couldn't stop shaking after, frozen to the spot as the carpet at his feet slowly soaked up the hot tea.

ꕤ Dad!Suguru who will hold you tight - but not too tight once his brain processed your words, eyes tearing up out of happiness. He just can't believe that you two created something this beautiful - that you're carrying his child now.

ꕤ Dad!Suguru who refuses to leave your side, additionally having curses around you all the time, not wanting to risk any harm coming your way. Losing Riko right before his eyes left a scar and he's terrified that he can't protect you properly as well.

ꕤ Dad!Suguru who can barely sleep, preferring to watch over you all day to the point where exhaustion shows physical effects. You get his best friend Satoru to watch over you for a few nights a week so Suguru can at least sleep a little bit. Satoru Gojo is the only one he trusts to watch over you

ꕤ Dad!Suguru who can't believe how lucky he got when he found out you're expecting a little girl. Thinking of all the beautiful names because his daughter will for sure grow up to be a beautiful and strong woman and deserves to be respected by her name alone.

ꕤ Dad!Suguru who talks to the little bump when he thinks you're asleep, promising his little girl the entire world and more. Always having a hand on your belly and smiling wide when he feels his precious girl kick or punch against the warmth of his hand.

ꕤ Dad!Suguru who not only gives forehead kisses but also belly kisses now, spoiling you rotten to a point where you won't have to lift a single finger - promising to treat his daughter just as gentle.

ꕤ Dad!Suguruwho lets his daughter sleep on his chest all the time, thinking it's adorable how she always holds onto his long hair with her tiny hands.

ꕤ Dad!Suguru who was a little bit concerned to let his curses out around her, not wanting to scare her but the way her tiny little hands reached out for the rainbow dragon with the sweetest giggles made his heart melt, knowing she's coming after him. He lets some of his curses out so she can play with them or cuddle them while they watch over her in her tiny crib.

ꕤ Dad!Suguru who's constantly scolding Godfather Satoru for making his girl cry by teasing her or for being reckless with or around her. Gojo spends a lot of his days apologizing to you and making sure his little sunshine is smiling again, oftentimes ending up asleep on the couch, the little girl holding onto him tightly.

ꕤ Dad!Suguru who looks at you and your daughter like you put the stars in the sky just for him. There's not a single day where he doesn't stop what he's doing just to look at the both of you in awe, wondering how he ever got so lucky.

ꕤ Dad!Suguru who one day disappears without a trace, feeling like a failure for leaving his family behind but the path he chose to follow is one he has to walk alone, knowing Satoru will take good care of you two.

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez @planetonet

#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #JJK angst #geto x reader #geto fluff #geto angst #geto suguru #suguru x reader #suguru fluff #suguru angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk geto #getou x reader #getou fluff #getou angst

[sofipitch]

One big theme in the locked tomb is the importance of community, and especially with the framework of those with a disability. Harrow in HTN has two different worlds she is interacting with, one in which the people around her don't give a shit to help her at all, and in that world she dies. Then in the river bubble most everyone refuses to leave her on her own, thye chose to help her, many despite not knowing her. Compare Ianthe's speech to Harrow in the prologue, the way she frames it is Harrow will not survive if she doesn't accept her help, and that Ianthe specifically is the only one who can. Her speech intentionally or not implied that she sees Harrow as weak. Of course Harrow rejects her help. Whereas when Harrow is asking the others to not help her defeat the sleeper, many frame it as helping her is just being part of something they already wanted to do or that they benefit from (the ones that come immediately to mind being Abigail, Dulcie, and Marta). They help her but don't make her feel like she owes them anything for doing it. Which is the opposite of Ianthe, when Harrow makes her the bone arm, Harrow doesn't want anything in return but Ianthe explicitly states she doesn't want to owe her.

The same is true in Nona, Camilla, Palamedes, and Pyrrha don't really owe it to Harrow to keep her/her body safe. It's obviously a lot of work, the equivalent to raising a child, but Nona is never treated as a burden. And I hate to imagine what it would have been like for Nona had she been alone, she said she couldn't even remember to walk at first. And this is all over the series, Dulcie lovingly saying Palamedes invented the breathing tube for her. Camilla and Coronabeth caring for Judith when they were captured. Even in places that aren't tied to disability, a necromancer and cavalier HAD to work together to complete the challenges. The way both of the Palamedes' detective short stories depend on the help another person lends him. It means so much for a story featuring characters with a disability to emphasize that it is okay to need other people, that we all do or will. That you don't need to push yourself to extremes to keep up (Harrow has this mindset in both books and in both she succeeds the most with the help of others, not alone).

To go even further, it isn't just about helping one another, but the importance of not keeping a score. Don't think you have to make up an equivalent amount of help to someone else. One of the things Gideon emphasizes as the most hurtful in Harrow's rejection is the rejection of her help. Palamedes says that he feels bad for using Camilla for his agenda and she answers that it was never his agenda. Him needing her body was something Camilla would never think twice about giving. They would do these things because they love them. This is just me repeating themes but I'm so used to the Western independent mindset, and disability porn of "if you just try hard enough" this series is a breath of fresh air

#tlt #the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth

[srvbryn]

Luke Castellan. A shot of espresso

Not set in riordanverse & FLUFF — MASTERLIST

Luke Castellan X immortal!reader

Summary: he wants to be immortal with her, she wants to relinquish her immortal to be normal with him

Warning: a decade timeskip, literally a bed time story, this one is so boring and long + a lot of dialogues A LOT

"I want to be with you, forever. I can't bear the thought of a life without you."

Your gaze met his, sorrow reflecting in your eyes. "But, Luke, you don't understand. Immortality comes with a price. I've seen civilizations rise and fall, loved and lost countless times. I don't want you to endure the pain that eternity brings."

He grabbed your hands, desperation etched on his face. "I don't care about the pain. I want to be with you, face everything together. I want to be by your side for all of eternity."

A bitter smile played on your lips. "Eternity is a heavy burden, Luke. Mortals live vibrant lives, but immortals watch those lives fade away. I don't want you to sacrifice your fleeting existence for me."

Anger flashed across his features. "My existence means nothing without you. I want more than just a short life. I want a forever with you."

A heavy silence fell, and the weight of an impossible decision hung between you.

Finally, you spoke, your voice strained. "Luke, I love you too much to let you make such a sacrifice. Mortality brings beauty in its brevity."

His eyes filled with frustration and anger. "I don't want a short-lived beauty. I want a timeless love with you. I'll find a way to make it work, to be with you."

Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled away. "You can't comprehend the weight of eternity, Luke. It's not a fairy tale. It's an endless journey, filled with pain and loneliness."

His voice grew desperate, "I don't care. I want to be with you."

"You're not thinking clearly," you whispered, your voice strained. "I've seen the consequences of immortality. It's not a gift — it's a curse."

Luke's frustration boiled over, and he snapped, "I don't care about the curse. I care about you. I can't imagine a life without you by my side."

A tear trickled down your cheek as you admitted, "I want to give up my immortality. I want to live a normal life with you, experience the short joys and pains of mortality."

He shook his head, refusing to accept your choice. "No, we can find another way. There has to be a solution that allows us to be together."

Your voice softened, a mix of love and sadness. "Luke, sometimes love means making the most painful choices. I want to live a mortal life with you, not bound by the weight of eternity."

He slumped, defeated, realizing the depth of your decision. "I love you, but I can't bear the thought of losing you."

You pulled him into an embrace, whispering words of comfort. "I love you too, Luke. Let's savor the time we have together, even if it's not forever."

— love sometimes requires letting go, even if it means relinquishing immortality or embracing mortality.

A decade had passed since you chose to give up your immortality to live a normal life with him.

The small town you both called home now echoed with a child's laughter, a testament to your blossoming love.

The modest house you shared held the warmth of a home filled with memories.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, you sat on the porch, watching your child play in the yard.

Luke joined you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. "Our life might not be eternal, but it's certainly full of love."

You smiled, leaning into his embrace. "I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Your child ran over, a vibrant bundle of energy. "Mom! Dad! Look what I found!"

You both turned your attention to the little one, who proudly displayed a handful of wildflowers.

Luke ruffled their hair, a proud smile on his face. "Those are beautiful, just like you."

As evening settled in, you gathered around the dinner table — a treasure you wouldn't trade for the world.

Later, as you tucked your child into bed, they looked up at you with wide eyes. "Will you tell me a story, mom?"

You chuckled, sitting on the edge of their bed. “Once, in a small town nestled between rolling hills and whispering forests, there lived a family unlike any other. Mom, Dad, and their child lived in a warm, loving home.

You see, a long time ago, Mom was an immortal being, someone who had seen centuries unfold like the pages of a story.

But one day, she met Dad, a brave and kind-hearted mortal. Their love was so strong that Mom decided to give up her immortality to share a mortal life with Dad.

From that choice blossomed a life filled with laughter, joy, and love. The house echoed with the patter of little feet, and the yard was always alive with the sound of playful giggles.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Mom, Dad, and the little one would gather on the porch.

The sky would paint itself with colors, and the world would hush into the magic of the evening. Dad would wrap his arm around Mom, and they would share stories of adventures and love.

In the yard, wildflowers grew, each petal holding a piece of the family's happiness.

The little one, a ball of energy and curiosity, would find treasures in the grass, such as the time they proudly returned with a handful of wildflowers as beautiful as the love that surrounded them.

At bedtime, when the stars sparkled like diamonds in the night sky, Mom would sit by the little one's bed. "Once upon a time," she would begin, "there was an immortal who chose to embrace mortality for the love of a mortal. And in that choice, they found a lifetime of joy, love, and the beauty of fleeting moments."

The little one's eyes would grow heavy with the magic of the story, drifting into dreams filled with love, warmth, and the gentle whispers of a life well-lived.

And so, in that little town, under the watchful gaze of a starlit sky, this extraordinary family created their own enchanting bedtime stories—a tale of love that transcended the boundaries of time, and a reminder that the most magical moments are often found in the simplest joys of life.

Goodnight, little one. Sweet dreams in the embrace of a love that lasts a lifetime.”

Your child's eyes drooped with sleep, a contented smile on their face. As you left the room, you found Luke waiting in the hallway, his gaze filled with gratitude.

"We created something beautiful, didn't we?" Luke whispered.

You nodded, intertwining your fingers with his. "Our own little eternity within the finite."

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #i love him #charlie bushnell #luke castellan angst #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x you

[queenimmadolla]

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊

(young parents!Eddie Munson x fem!reader, SMUT)

more adventures from the pennyverse can be found on my masterlist.

summary: . . . eddie helps you out when you’re struggling to feed your baby. It quickly leads to fucking.

warnings: lactation kink, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, fingering, breastfeeding, little bit of angst, whole lot of comforting.

a/n: based on this request, pls appreciate this, i learned too much about my older sister’s experiences to be as accurate as possible for you horndogs. and a HUGE thank you to @kitmon for beta-ing this monster! everyone say ‘thank you, junie!’

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You hadn’t been able to do it for very long, but you definitely had a bone to pick with all of the distorted media; all of the stupid magazines, books, tv shows and movies that made breastfeeding seem like a walk in the park

Because it wasn’t.

Over the course of your pregnancy you had mainly been worried about whether your baby would accept your offered boob or not considering you’d been a bottle-fed baby, fussy and always refusing your mom anytime she tried. Penny wasn’t like you, though. She had no problem with your breasts or latching, she was essentially a pro at it and almost entirely chose to nurse by tit, meaning, she was almost constantly attached to your nipple.

That was now proving to be a problem. See, your chest was out of control. You were fine with your bra size before but, Jesus Christ, they nearly tripled in size to produce the amount of milk she needed! And that was when you were least engorged! You were shaped like Dolly Parton if Penny was away from you for too long.

It had also begun to hurt, badly. It was painful. They made it look all cutesy and sweet in the movies, a mother cooing gingerly and coddling her child close to her chest as they suckled, but milk— and enough to feed a seemingly always hungry baby— coming out of recently tender nipples not used to it was anything but a fun experience. For a good couple of weeks after having her, you cried during her feedings while she stared up at you with those thoughtless, doe-like eyes, oblivious to it all.

You could tell Eddie felt bad, but there wasn’t much he could do and, if you were being honest, it was definitely a stubborn pride thing on your end, not really wanting his help in the first place.

You could do it on your own. And, for a while, you did, until, suddenly, you couldn’t. 

Your right breast had been hurting more than the usual dull ache and Penny seemed to be unsatisfied with what her clouded baby-brain perceived to be meager portions, demanding more which she was given through a bottle. It didn’t take you long to figure out something was wrong and a quick visit to your doctor confirmed that something was, indeed, amiss. 

Mastitis; which was the fancy word for your milk duct (the terminology grossed you out) being clogged.

Your doctor gave you some medication, told you to keep pumping and to keep Penny on the swollen side for a longer amount of time during her feedings to encourage her to unclog it. She’d also recommended a third solution, but it was much too embarrassing for you to even consider. You could barely look her in the eyes as she described it and held your head down, avoiding her gaze on your way out of the exam room.

Eddie was playing with Penny when you stepped into your home, laying on the couch as he held her high above his face, lowering her to press a loud smacking kiss to her soft, chubby cheek before giving the other the same treatment.

She was delighted, letting out happy little squeaks and hiccups every time he brought her down to meet him. Despite the discomfort you were experiencing, it was impossible not to smile at the pair as the trill of her laughter flooded the living room along with Eddie’s contrasting chuckles, raspy in comparison to her’s.

Eddie’s head tilted to the side to get a good look at you as the front door clicked shut behind you, mouth breaking out into a grin. “Hi, babydoll. How’d it go? You okay?”

You had  shared some of what you were going through, but you hadn’t been completely transparent with him. It wasn’t out of fear of him judging you— you knew he’d never do that— it was just… embarrassing, and you didn’t even have a reason! It just was.

You set the paper bag containing your new prescription onto what little kitchen counter space you had before you walked over. Eddie shifted until he was sitting, cradling Penny in the crook of one of his arms. It looked like she was in position to fly, her tummy pressed against the palm of his hand. She seemed to be amused with it herself, toothless mouth wide open in a huge smile that showed off her gums and made way for drool to slip from the corner of her mouth. Her arms and legs kicked and waved, Eddie having to adjust his hold every few seconds as she fidgeted and wiggled like she was actually trying to flap them and take off.

“She gave me some stuff to take, told me to keep feeding Penny like normal and it should go away.” It wasn’t a complete lie. 

You didn’t dare mention the third solution she’d given you; one that she recommended more than the others as it usually produced an immediate result. But at what cost? 

Despite your embarrassment, it was still pretty difficult for you to keep anything from Eddie, so you reached for Penny and he let her slip from his arm easily as you brought her into yours, eager to distract yourself. When she turned her head to stare up at you, her gummy smile somehow managed to widen at your presence and you leaned forward to nuzzle your nose against her tiny button-like one. She giggled again before her mouth opened and she attempted to latch onto your nose, lips parting and smearing drool along the tip of your nose as she searched for a nipple that was most definitely not there.

Eddie laughed as he slipped a hand behind the back of your neck, massaging the tense muscles there, “I was gonna feed her just before you got here, want me to get a bottle ready or do you want to try?”

You knew he didn’t mean any harm by it, but a part of you still kicked yourself for your current inability to satisfy your daughter’s hunger.

“I’ll try.” You stood up, keeping a good hold on Penny as you disappeared into the bedroom, trying your hardest to ignore the hurt look on Eddie’s face as you did so.

Ever since your milk duct had gotten clogged, you’d taken to feeding Penny in private. It wasn’t like Eddie stared at you when you fed her but he didn’t mind watching. You knew he liked seeing you and Penny bond that way. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a whole lot of bonding going on anymore. You spent the majority of her feeding time trying to encourage her to suckle a little harder and getting frustrated when she wouldn’t. You didn’t want Eddie to see that, it’d break the illusion of you being the perfect mother.

And you didn’t want to disappoint Eddie. You felt like you were already disappointing Penny. 

“Okay, we can do this, Penny,” You sighed and smiled down at her as you kicked the door shut behind you, moving to climb onto the bed, mindful of Penny’s precious body in your arms. You sat with your back pressed against the headboard, legs criss-crossed as you unbuttoned your blouse as best as you could with only one free hand and fumbled to undo the latch holding the right cup of your nursing bra in place. “Just do your thing, baby. No pressure.” But pressure.

She latched onto you with no problem, the suction providing you with just a little bit of relief. It didn’t last long as the slow suckling begun producing a sharp pain that hurt more than not having her suckle at all. You huffed, breathing through the burn of it as you hitched her up a little, hoping the slight change in position would get her to try a little harder for her food. “C’mon, Penny. You gotta get it.”

Penny didn’t understand a word you were saying, pretty brown doe (perhaps cow like with the lack of attention behind them) eyes staring up at you as she continued suckling at her own pace, unaware of your suffering.

When that didn’t work, you tried re-positioning her again but, regardless of how you held her, she refused to try sucking any harder, and soon, you were blinking away tears of pain and frustration. After about thirty minutes of the fruitless attempt, you gave up, and pulled her off your chest.

Immediately, Penny began whimpering, face crumpling as you switched her onto your other side to hush her, tears openly trailing down your cheeks and chest rising and falling with your erratic hiccups. You couldn’t look down at her as she nursed, choosing instead to blink up towards the ceiling in an effort to keep the waterworks at bay and ignore the pain of your other breast as well as the sting of your own failure as a mother. You knew the moment she was done with your left breast, she’d still be hungry and would bawl with disappointment as she’d barely gotten anything from the right.

Sure enough, when Penny’s suckling became too much for your left breast and you knew she wouldn’t be getting much more out of it, you pulled her away and her whimpers started up again, tiny fists clenching in anger as she inhaled sharply with a wrinkled face. 

You felt defeated when she began to wail, mouth wide open, not to give you one of her precious smiles but to cry from her hunger. 

You cried with her, bringing a hand up to cover your face as the tears started to fall in thick droves. How could your own body fail you? How could you fail your own daughter? She wasn’t even a year old and you were already letting her down. Fuck, maybe you really weren’t ready to be a mother. 

You heard the bedroom door creak open but you didn’t bother looking up as you heard Eddie’s footsteps draw closer to you. You felt Penny’s weight being lifted away from her place in your lap and as soon as you heard her cries carry out into the living room, you curled up into a ball and wept as quietly as you could; from the still-throbbing pain and from the failure of it all.

The throbbing of your right breast became easy to ignore as your brain went numb, finally accepting defeat. 

There was nothing you could do. Maybe your fucking tit would fall off or explode or something but you didn’t care anymore. You sucked anyway and Penny would be happier nursing from a stupid plastic bottle.

You laid there for what felt like hours but was, likely, no more than one. Penny’s cries had stopped by then and you were sure Eddie had sedated her with a warmed bottle and an unclogged stupid rubber nipple.  Your tears had slowed, dry tracks and the redness staining the whites of your eyes as the only evidence that they had ever flowed, save for the stray droplets that trailed along the contour of your nose and stained the pillow case. When Eddie appeared, leaning in the doorway, he stared at you with concern etched into his features. 

You didn’t meet his gaze, staring determinedly at the dresser across the room before asking, “Where’s Penny?” 

“She’s asleep in her playpen.” He sighed, pushing off of the doorway to crouch near the edge of the bed, fingers lifting to stroke over your hair. “Talk to me, babydoll. What’s wrong?”

Your first instinct was to lie but what was the point? Penny would wake up in a couple of hours, hungry again and, like all the times before, you wouldn’t be able to satisfy her. Your days of feeding her were probably over and that made your eyes sting with the prospect of oncoming tears.

“I can’t feed her enough,” you finally admitted, your lower lip beginning to quake. “Barely anything is coming out of my right boob, it hurts like some kind of hell! She’s mad at me, I’m mad at me and I’m probably only gonna have one boob after this because I have a clogged milk duct and there’s nothing I can do about it! Penny can’t unclog it and this all sounds kind of gross as shit to me!” You turned your face into the pillow and sobbed into it, your body trembling with the force of it and you were sure you must have been a pitiful sight to your husband.

Eddie frowned, eyebrows cinched together with worry as he watched you cry. It had been obvious to him that something was off with you these last few weeks. Anytime he tried to bring it up, you withdrew into yourself. It was only after he’d been trying to get you in the mood, when he’d been kissing his way down your chest, nipping and lavishing you with lovemarks that you halted his descent and shyly admitted your breast was feeling a little too tender for any action. He had encouraged you to see your doctor about it, thinking maybe Penny had somehow hurt you while she was nursing despite her lack of teeth but, clearly, it went far beyond that.

“Have you tried pumping?” He leaned forward, pressing a kiss into the side of your head left available to him. You sniffled, turning to the side just in time for him to catch your cheek with his lips. 

Maybe you were in the mood to be coddled because you shifted around a little so you were facing him completely, allowing him to plant kisses all over your face as he brushed your hair out of your eyes.

“It doesn’t help all that much. Plus, if I pump then I can’t feed Penny on that side and my left side is already not enough for her. I don’t like sharing her too much with a bottle, Eddie,” you explained, feeling just a little better at having gotten the chance to vent it all out. Sure, your husband knew you failed at breastfeeding your daughter but clearly he didn’t care about that or he wouldn’t be comforting you.

He licked his lips before pursing them as he studied your tear covered face, heart aching at the fact that you’d been hurting this whole time and kept it to yourself. God, there had to be something he could do. “What exactly did your doctor say?”

You scowled at the mention of your visit. “She said to take some antibiotics and to encourage Penny to nurse on that side. She said, eventually, Penny should be trying to suckle enough to unclog it or I could just—’’ You caught yourself and stopped your words short, face growing warm when you recalled the final solution your doctor had provided you, eyes wide in mortification even though you hadn’t actually said it out loud.

“What? You could just what?” Eddie tried to hide the desperation in his voice as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours. “C’mon, doll, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

You groaned, moving away from him to shove your face back into the pillow. You caught the flash of hurt on his face again and hated yourself a little more. Then, you finally said or, well, mumbled it into the pillow cover.

“What?”

You spoke a little louder, though your answer still remained unintelligible. Eddie frowned at your muffled reply. 

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart. You’re gonna need to say that again without trying to smother yourself,” he coaxed with a gentle joke, lips curled in a slightly uneased smile.

With a sigh and your eyes clamped shut, you moved your mouth just far enough away from the pillow to be heard, “She said I could just have you do it!” You then, immediately, shoved your face back into the pillow so you wouldn’t have to see Eddie laugh at you.

Only, you didn’t hear him either. When he remained silent but continued petting your hair, you slowly angled your head to peek up at him. 

You expected to see some amusement, just a little at your expense, but all you saw on his face was concern.

“What’s so wrong with that?” 

And just like that, you wanted to kick yourself for ever thinking Eddie would tease you for needing his help, regardless of how embarrassing the situation felt to you.

“I don’t know, I guess I just felt stupid. I always expected to breastfeed Penny. Didn’t really think I’d have to ask you to tap in for her.” It sounds silly rather than stupid saying it out loud and you can’t help the giggle that filtered out of you. 

Eddie grinned, pleased that you were finally coming out of your shell and trusting him. He actually wouldn’t mind helping you with your problem. In fact, he wouldn’t mind, at all. 

Had you told him from the start, he would have readily volunteered. 

“Baby, I would be more than happy to. It’s not like I haven’t before.” His grin morphed into his trademark mischievous smirk and you felt your face get hot at the memory of the first time you found out your milk had come in. You’d been in the middle of intercourse, bodies slick with sweat and sliding against one another, mindful of your baby bump, when you had started leaking. Ever the curious cat, Eddie had made it his mission to check it out for himself. If you hadn’t already been heavily pregnant, you were positive that particular tryst would have ended up with a baby in you. 

“Shut up!” You pushed a hand over his face, sending him away as you both laughed and you moved to sit up. 

“Hey! I’m just offering to help!” He stood up only to crash down onto the bed next to you, flat on his back as you crawled over him.

“Mhm, you know, I’m beginning to think it might be a thing for you,” you jested, tucking some hair behind your ear before leaning down, your nose almost grazing his.

Eddie didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow in a suggestive manner.

You straightened as your mouth dropped open. “Oh my god, it totally is!” 

The only reason he was admitting it was because he knew it must have embarrassed you to need his help in the first place. “It’s not like I can help it! I just see you and I want to—’’

You shush him, covering his mouth with your hand. “Don’t explain. Just do.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. 

Eddie flipped you over, your back landing on the mattress as he settled himself over you. You wrinkled your nose as he leaned down, the ends of his hair tickling your face and neck before he began trailing kisses along your jaw, nudging your head to the side with his nose so he could gain better access to your neck. 

“Eddie,” you moaned out as he began sucking over a previous mark he’d left just over your pulse point, making sure it wouldn’t get the chance to fade. 

Eddie liked to do that with most of the bruises his lips had left over your skin, almost from the first time you'd let him to touch you in that way. It always filled him with a sense of pride when he caught a glimpse of them throughout the day, the marks peeking just over the collar of one of your turtlenecks and scarves or smatterings of discoloration littering your thighs when you’d shuck off your pants to go to bed. You hadn’t allowed him to leave them anywhere you wouldn’t be able to hide them with clothing or your hair, but knowing they sat there, pretty and purple, always had him half hard and ready to go the rest of the way the second you made it clear you wanted to fool around.

“Mmm, I’m getting there,” he mumbled against your skin, kisses beginning to trail from your neck to over your collarbone, pulling away only so he could pull your blouse open the rest of the way, his thick clumsy fingers struggling with the tiny iridescent buttons.

You held your breath, watching his face and anticipating the squeamish look of repulsion at your swollen boob, but he never displayed it. Instead, he looked just as intrigued as he always did when undressing you, paying no mind to the irritated redness as he got rid of your blouse and your bra completely, bundling the articles up and flinging them somewhere behind him without a spare glance.

He leaned down to press lushkisses to the area surrounding your nipple, sore and tender even to his fond touch. “My poor baby, you’ve been suffering all this time.”

There was nothing Eddie hated more than feeling helpless. Luckily, that wasn’t the case this time and he’d be damned if he couldn’t ease your pain and maybe soothe you with a little something more. 

“Let me help you with that.”

Finally, he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking cautiously  and laving his tongue over the inflamed skin as you shut your eyes in discomfort. His attention remained focused on you, his dark gaze locked onto your face, judging the pressure he’d need to apply in order to alleviate your pain. By the twisting of your features and the shaky exhales released after you’d held your breath as long as you could, it was clear you weren’t enjoying it, so he made sure his suction was light, each suck accompanied immediately after with an apologetic wash of his tongue, surveying each tick of your eyebrow or curl of your lips to better understand your dilemma. He was sure he was already trying harder than Penny usually did and he could barely taste the sweet liquid you produced, only mustering a few drops. It must have been some clog, no wonder you were so upset.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he sucked a little harder, well aware it’d cause you more discomfort before it did you any good relief. He watched as you brought a hand to your mouth, biting down on your finger to keep from making any noises for fear of waking Penny.

“Harder,” you gritted out around your finger. Unlike Penny, you knew Eddie could understand you. You’d need more than he was giving to get it out and, like a dutiful husband, he obeyed and you wondered distantly if you’d end up drawing blood from your finger as your teeth dug into the flesh of it.

The sting in your breast worsened and you honestly thought Eddie was going to rip your nipple off with how harshly he was suckling, your skin coated in a light sheen of sweat as the feeling intensified. Then, suddenly, you could feel something shoot out of your nipple in a horrifying way but the relief was almost instant; it was something not entirely liquid. 

Eddie pulled away, mouth releasing your nipple with a wet pop as he spat into his hand.

Exhausted and spent, you were left panting before straining to push yourself up onto your elbows to get a look at it. 

“What is it?"

He stared down at his palm, thumb reaching to press against something, before he offered his hand out for you to see.

You made a face, nose wrinkling and lips turning up as you caught sight of what was in his hand; it was cream colored and almost rubbery looking, like a smaller version of that gross slime they offered to children as prizes at arcades.

“Oh, god, what the fuck?”

Eddie was silent as he reached over the side of the bed to shake his hand and toss the clog into the trash can. As he leaned back up, he wasted no time in pressing you back into the mattress and slanting his pink mouth over yours with fervor. You caved instantly, melting under his wandering hands as you moaned into his mouth, letting him roll his tongue along yours.

He was panting when he pulled away, lips rosy and glistening with your shared saliva. 

“Fuck, baby, I know that must have been a pain in the ass for you, but you tasted so good and you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You yanked his face back down to yours, licking the rest of his words right out of his mouth. You could taste the sweet flavor of your breast milk on his tongue, and it surprised you how much the candied taste of it turned you on.You weren’t even the one with the kink.

You reached a hand down to press against his jean-ladened crotch, relieved when you felt the defined outline of his cock, hard and warm even through the bulky, rough fabric. Eddie rutted into your palm, eager to feel any friction you would provide him. You took pity on him, fumbling with the button on his jeans before lowering the zipper. He raised his hips to help you ease the pants down over his ass, legs kicking to strip them down the rest of the way, his boxers falling away with his jeans.

“Your turn,” he growled, voice laced with unbridled desire as he quickly got you out of your pants, yanking and tugging until they were discarded along the floor Your panties, however, were less fortunate. The sound of the fabric ripping was loud enough to surprise you but Eddie didn’t let it interfere with his mission and just tossed the ruined article of clothing to the side (they were ruined before he tore them, anyways, your arousal made sure of that). His fingers started exploring your center, his middle and ring digits sliding effortlessly through your soaked folds. 

“Knew I’d find you nice and wet. All this just from me sucking on your nipple, babydoll? Somthin’ you wanna tell me?” 

Eddie didn’t give you the chance to answer, pressing the two fingers into you just as you’d opened your mouth to respond. Instead, all you could do was gasp around a moan when he curled them, the pads of his fingertips pressing against that spot inside you that only he knew how to work. Not even your own fingers could bring you that kind of practiced pleasure. 

“You’re so good, sweetheart. Always my good girl. So good to me and such a good mommy to Penny.” He mouthed at the spot behind your ear that sent sharp tingles up your spine, but you pushed through, focusing on your task at hand and yanking on the hem of his shirt. You needed him naked. 

He got the message, withdrawing his fingers from the desperate clutch of your aching cunt to yank his shirt over his head. In his wake, your pussy clenched around nothing, already missing the feeling of his calloused fingers massaging your walls. 

He didn’t leave your pussy lonely for long though. Once the two of you were both naked, his fingers dipped back into you, eager to stretch you out for his cock. You ground your hips against his hand, head pressing back into the mattress when his thumb rubbed into your clit.

Eddie smirked, watching you arch your back as his thumb circled over your sensitive nub, fingers prodding and searching out that spongy spot inside of you. You let out another airy moan once he found it, this time focusing on that mushy patch inside you as he massaged his rough fingertips into it ruthlessly, pinning your hips down to keep them from moving too much.

“You hear that?” He questions.

Fuck yeah, you could. Your cunt was sucking his fingers in with a sloppy squelch, your arousal smeared all over the insides of your thighs and trailing down the back of Eddie’s hand as it dripped onto the bed sheets. He cursed, staring down at the mess between your thighs, mesmerized by how greedy your pussy was being; so eager to take, take, take.

“Fuck, you’re making such a beautiful mess, honey. All for me, yeah?” 

He increased his pace, fingers fucking into you with reckless abandon.

“Yes, Eddie!” You babbled, chest heaving from the pleasure of it all. You could feel your climax approaching, the telltale sensation pulling low in your belly. “All for you! Only you!”

He hummed, the vibrations rumbling against your skin as he licked a long, hot stripe up your exposed neck. You came right then, clenching hard around his fingers as you nearly choked on a moan, your hands gripping the sheets beside your head with trembling fingers as you fumbled to remain attached  to reality. 

Eddie worked you through it, fingers unforgiving as they stroked that spot inside of you. You whimpered, hips trying to move away, the sensations reaching the point of overwhelming but Eddie wasn’t having that.

“Nuh-uh, I’m not done with you yet, babydoll.” 

He pulled his fingers from your sensitive cunt, sucking them into his mouth and savoring the dulled tang of your juices with a moan as he licked them clean, brown eyes fluttering shut as he did so. You’d just cum within an inch of your life, but the sight of him had a rush of slick slipping past your folds, drenching your cunt more than it already was.

When his eyes opened again, they were dark and yet aglow with a predatory gleam. He grabbed the back of your leg and pushed it over his shoulder, leaning over you so that it almost pressed into yours. You tried to readjust yourself to accommodate the stretch of it, but that was forgotten when you felt the mushroom head of his cock rubbing at your folds. You were barely able to let out a small gasp when he notched the head at your entrance before he was pressing inside you, all the way down to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you abandoned your hold on the sheets in favor of digging your nails into his sides, the stretch burned in the best of ways. Your cunt already felt sore, labia stretching around him and he was only getting started. 

Despite how often you’d had sex and the fact that you’d literally had his baby, taking Eddie’s cock always proved to be somewhat of a challenge, one that you never failed.

Eddie hissed, both at the sensation of your nails scraping his skin and at the tight, vise-like squeeze of your cunt around his cock as he sank into you. You were always so fucking tight. Under normal circumstances, he liked to make sure you came at least twice before he gave you his cock, but Penny always chose to wake up exactly when she shouldn’t and Eddie needed to cum inside you before that inevitably happened.

He gave you a couple of shallow ruts, pressing your other leg out along the mattress to further open you up; it worked, his cock easily able to glide in and out of your silky heat. It was dramatic, you were being dramatic, but you thought you might die from how good it felt to have Eddie crack your molten center open over him.

“There we go, ‘atta girl,” he panted, leaning down to press his lips to yours in a messy kiss.

He was ruthless with his rhythm, hips thrusting into yours so hard it sent your body up the sheets. The headboard banged against the wall and Eddie cast it a quick glance, lips twitching in amusement as he took notice of the marks there from your previous unions. 

“You want it hard, doll?”

You nodded, teeth digging into your lower lip to keep from screaming with how deep he was buried. He always liked to be buried balls deep and that meant it was nearly impossible for you to hold off on cumming.

His heavy sack smacked against your ass with each of his thrusts, the sounds resonating within the room were absolutely wicked, wet and music to your own ears.

“Eddie! Eddie, I’m gonna cum,” You tried to warn, face ruddy and chest heaving as he pounded into you.

“Then do it. Cum for me. Cum on my cock, fucking getting me soaked—c’mon, let me feel it,” he demanded, leaving no room for arguments as his fingers danced down your body to work your clit again. 

Your thighs quivered as you came, body tensing before you went lax, doing exactly what he demanded of you. Eddie growled when your pussy convulsed and spilled around him, making it that much easier for him to fuck into you.

“Holy shit,” He hissed, sweat beading along his forehead, making the hairs of his fringe stick messily to his forehead. You stared up at him in adoration as you came down from subspace, admiring the way his mouth was agape so he could pant out harsh breaths, the way his skin glowed under the layer of sweat resting over it, and how tightly his eyes were screwed shut from the pleasure you were providing him.

You could feel the tackiness of your combined fluids, his thighs sticking to yours as he pounded into your core. You knew this was going to end in a good, hot mess and you wanted it sooner rather than later.

“C’mon, baby,” you encouraged, shaky hands reaching up to card through his messy curls, massaging his sweaty scalp and he whimpered when you clenched around him again, eager to bring him to his end. “Cum inside me.”

He slammed a fist down near the side of your head as he came with a sputtered moan of your name, flooding your insides and painting your walls with spurt after spurt of his seed before collapsing over you, spent and satiated.

After catching a few puffs of lost breath, you pressed kisses into the damp skin of his forehead, holding his sweaty body to yours as his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, trailing his own kisses along the area. 

“Goddamn, were you trying to kill me?” He lifted himself off of you, rolling onto his side before tugging you to his chest, your slack body giving way easily.

“You started it!” You curled into him without a second thought, trying to ignore how gross your lower halves were.

“Yeah, well, you helped finish it.” He pressed his lips to the top of your head before he threw an arm over his eyes. “Holy hell, I’m gonna need some recovery time.”

Right on cue, Penny’s cooing could be heard through the baby monitor you kept on the nightstand near the bed. While she didn’t sound upset, you both hated to just leave her to keep herself company.

Eddie stared at it in disbelief, “How does she know?”

You laughed as you pulled away from him and threw on one of his shirts before standing to dig around in one of the dresser drawers for a fresh pair of panties you’d no doubt have to change again later after a much needed shower. 

“It’s her sixth sense,” you teased as you slipped your legs into your underwear, sliding them up over your messy core. “She knows when you're being lazy.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, tonguing his canine as he fought to not smile when you slipped out of the room to retrieve his daughter from solitary confinement. It didn’t work. 

He stretched as he stood up, more than happy to peruse the room butt naked in search of his boxers. He settled on a pair of sweats when it became clear he had no idea where he’d thrown his  pants and underwear in the heat of things and joined you in the living room, beaming when he caught sight of you holding Penny to your right breast on the couch.

You looked much happier, hand stroking over her curly little head as she nursed. Penny’s tiny fingers curled into loose fists as she slumped into your embrace, humming sounds of satisfaction against your skin.

“Did it work?” He asked as he plopped down next to you, encouraging you to lean into his side which you happily complied with.

“Pretty sure.” It was obvious it had, you could feel the difference. Your nipple was definitely sore and you were positive you’d have to ice it or something later, but Penny was content, suckling a lot easier than she had been before because she was actually able to get more than just a couple of drops at a time.

She reached a small arm up towards you as she stared up at you and Eddie, and you slipped your finger into her hold, heart squeezing when her small fingers curled around it, her lips smiling around your nipple at the contact. You felt silly about your earlier dramatics, it was clear she loved you and you loved her. You were born to be her mom, and absolutely ecstatic about it. You had this. You knew what you were doing. And in the moments where you thought you didn’t, you had Eddie to help and reassure you.

You two were gonna be great parents, you were sure of it.

Eddie kissed the side of your head as you relaxed into him, resting his chin on your shoulder to stare down at his baby girl. Only, she loved to stare right back at Eddie, so much so that she abandoned your boob to crane her head further in his direction. She must have been going ham because you were still leaking when her mouth left your nipple, milk spraying along the side of her face.

Penny didn’t even bat an eye, choosing to continue staring at her dad as you both laughed and you hurried to cover your breast to stop the spillage.

Eddie reached down to caress the side of her face, wiping the liquid away. “Okay, you’re done here. After all I did to get her going again, you’re just gonna waste it? Done.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader smut #dilf!eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanction #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 1 #stranger things vol 2 #stranger things volume 1 #stranger things volume 2 #eddie munson smut #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #stranger things fics #eddie munson fics #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #dad!eddie munson #girl dad!eddie munson #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson blurb #dilf!eddie munson x milf!reader #pennyverse

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Patience is the Virtue of a Lady

Summary: As Daemon's wife, you are left humiliated by your errant husband. As the product of an annulled marriage, you are seen as barren and tainted, left to befriend Queen Alicent, gaining the reputation of an unsalvageable woman over the years.

But, the heart wants what it wants, and you have had your eyes on unattainable Ser Criston for years.

Notes: anon’s mind is imploding with the amount of genius in it. thank you for requesting, i was on my knees for this idea

Warnings: smut, religious undertones, afab!reader, daemon is an ass, criston is an ass, reader is genuinely not having a great time (at first ahaha), religious/vow-related guilt, slight size kink?

Taglist: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @a-beaverhausen @ilikeitbetterangsty @levithestripper (adding you tentatively, jack, hmu to be added to any!)

based on this request | masterlist | requests are OPEN! (and i'm back to writing!!)

Daemon never cared to hide his straying looks, and you knew of his habits. Whoring, drinking, murdering – and yet, you were lucky for having married a Targaryen Prince. You kept your mouth shut, knowing that you would, otherwise, end like your predecessor, Rhea Royce.

Why Viserys had insisted Daemon marry against his will again, you’d never understand.

You kept your mouth shut, through whores, paramours and treason. You played your part, as everyone did in the court. And when your eyes strayed, they did so secretly and carefully. You chose to stare at someone you could not attain anyway.

A kingsguard was your safest bet at something that would never happen anyway. You seethed against the humiliation of your husband and sought your own distraction. Even when Daemon stared hungrily at Rhaenyra, a girl, you said naught.

Targaryen tradition – you did not know if you could argue with that. But Rhaenyra was barely fifteen. She was beautiful, yes, but even now, the fact that your husband would prefer a girl over you stung.

In the early days of your marriage, you had gone to the sept every day, beseeching the Mother to give you a child, even if your husband refused to touch you beyond a drunken wedding night, in which he had failed to even come close to producing a child. Now, you were glad for your childless state, even if the court whispered that you were barren.

So when Daemon left your shared chambers, which were an order of the king, you bade him goodnight and turned back to your reading. Still, you stared from your balcony out at the small spot outside the Red Keep he always appeared in after a while.

A secret entrance only Daemon knew how to use. You held your breath when a small figure appeared first, silver hair glinting in the moonlight.

Rhaenyra.

A few moments later, Daemon appeared, and they disappeared into the city.

The rumors in the days to come were enough for you to draw your own conclusions, but to your surprise, Ser Criston was soon included in them, which stung more than anything. You’d deemed him safe to keep as your own in secret, and yet, Rhaenyra had not only taken your husband from you, but also him.

It hurt more than the annulment of your marriage that Daemon brought forth. You only nodded through the process, letting the Septon say what he wanted, and Daemon tell as many lies as he needed.

And so, your name was yours again and all you were in court was the former wife of Prince Daemon. Your family seethed, ready to remove you from court until Queen Alicent asked you to become her lady-in-waiting, and you were once again stuck in a court of lies.

Ser Criston grew bitter over Rhaenyra, but instead of becoming your friend, he began to worship Queen Alicent. It wasn’t lust, it wasn’t love, but something queer in between.

In his own twisted way, he once again wanted anyone but you, and it stung when it shouldn’t have. Weren’t you supposed to be past this?

And yet, you tortured yourself, watching as he raised Alicent’s children as his own and continued to barely spare you a glance. The court grew disinterested in you, and you continued to lead a life as quiet as before, turning into a lonely spinster with the years.

Only now, you turned to the Father in the Sept, begging for purpose. For anything to happen in your life that might make it worth something.

And then, Lady Laena died. Beautiful, magical, mysterious Lady Laena, who you’d never known and yet loved for ridding you of your husband was dead.

You attended the funeral, even prayed for her, hoping that she would find peace – a thing you thought highly unlikely for a wife of Daemon. You watched as Daemon once again practically drooled over Rhaenyra, and watched as she did the same. Alicent saw it, too.

“It appears as if some things do not change.” Alicent commented dryly. It was treason, what she said, but her nerves had been frayed for the past few weeks, and she knew you would not speak ill of her to the king. You wouldn’t have made a difference to frail King Viserys anyway.

“No, my queen.” You sighed. “But it is not me he is humiliating this time.”

“That did not make you deserve it.” Alicent replied, ever gracious. She slipped her arm into yours, as if you were still the young, disappointed women you had once been and led you away from the balcony. Ser Criston followed dutifully, and for some reason, it felt as if his eyes were burning into your back.

Rhaenyra and Daemon disappeared together, and everyone in their presence trained their eyes to the ground, pretending not to see. Your hand curled into a fist instinctually, feeling old anger and disappointment bubble back up in you.

Perhaps, if you had been bolder, you could have reigned Daemon in. You could have been queen consort, and saved Alicent all her pain. They were silly thoughts, and yet, they made you leave the room, and make for your chambers.

You almost screamed when you saw a dark figure sitting in them, back turned to you, until you recognized dark curls and white armour.

“I almost thought Daemon had finally sent someone after me.” You mumbled, half to yourself. Criston turned, looking right through you.

“Ser Criston?” You asked carefully. He’d grown older, as all of you had, but his beauty remained to him. Criston stayed silent, still staring.

“Criston?” You tried again, calling him by his first name this time, and slowly, he seemed to see you standing across from him.

“She could have had me, and freedom. She chose this prison, you know?” Criston told you. For a moment, your felt confused, before you realised that he was speaking of Rhaenyra, still heartbroken. Of course.

“What are you doing in my chambers, ser?” You asked. Ser Criston laughed dryly.

“You never deserved what he did to you. Prince Daemon dishonored you.” Ser Criston continued, not answering your question. “A lady so beautiful any a man would have been grateful to have you as their wife, and yet, he threw you away for nothing at all.”

Nothing. He had called beautiful Laena, wild Rhaenyra nothing at all. What treason, and how your heart loved to hear it.

You swallowed down your bitterness, ignoring the fluttering feeling in your stomach as Ser Criston called you beautiful. Yet, you kept your guard up. This place was only an extension of King’s Landing, reeking of corruption just as much. For a moment, you considered whether, mayhaps, this was some kind of ploy.

Ser Criston stood so suddenly you took a step back instinctively. He passed you, and you thought that he was going to leave, tired of your company. Instead, he closed the door in front of him. The lock clicked into place, a cacophony of sound in the silence that hung over the room. You held your breath, praying to the gods that nothing would happen to you.

He began to close the distance between you, and you began to back up, until your knees hit the bed, and you fell backwards. Criston was still walking, still closing in on you like prey, and you felt yourself scramble backwards. The headboard stopped your attempt to flee, forcing you to look at Ser Criston.

He stood at the end of the bed, his hand on his sword. Could you make a run for it? Where was there to run?

His swordbelt unravelled, and the weapon hit the ground with a quiet thud. Criston only waited, staring at you expectantly. What did he want?

Slowly, you felt yourself freeze out of place, dragging yourself across the bed towards the end of it, where he stood solemnly. Carefully, you reached up, putting a hand on his shoulder. You heard him inhale shakily.

“Ser Criston, are you alright?” You asked. A pause, then, a shaky breath and a shrug that turned into a shake of his head. “Ser?”

“I’m sorry.” Criston said finally. Carefully, his hand took yours. You stared down, looking at the dark grey glove that covered his hand, starkly contrasting the white of the rest of his uniform. The leather felt soft against your hand, and it was that you tried to focus on, not the fact that you were holding the man’s hand in yours.

“What for?” You asked, smiling up at him nervously. You hated the position you were in, the vulnerability of it. Your neck was craned to look up at him, and you were practically kneeling on the bed. If anyone found you like this, they would accuse you of unthinkable things… Alicent would never forgive you.

“For not defending you. For what I am to do.” Criston said. “Both tarnish my knighthood, my white cloak… tarnishing you.”

You opened your mouth to speak. “What you are about to…”

As Ser Criston pulled off his gloves, cupping your face with his left hand, you trailed off. You could hear your heart beating in your chest. You wanted to pinch yourself. Surely, you were dreaming. This was not real.

Yet, even if it was, you did not care to move away from him. Instead, his lips found yours, soft and gentle in their own way. You felt yourself reciprocate, though you knew that you should not. You should not be doing this, betraying Alicent in this way and yet…

He sighed into the kiss, and the thought disappeared in the fuzz of your mind. You were unable to think, almost unable to breathe. Gods, how long you had waited for this moment. Weeks, months, years.

“Do not give in.” Criston begged. You paused, breaking the kiss to look at him, but no words left your mouth. He repeated his own once, before something shifted in his eyes. This time, he kissed you less softly, and more so like in the bawdy tales your sister had told you. And you found yourself reeling, your hands against his chestplate to steady yourself.

Even as his hands slip under your dress and travel up your thighs, he begged. “Please, stop me.” He whispered. You shook your head in saccharine betrayal and Criston rested his on your shoulder for a moment. His hands left your thighs, leaving the skin hot and burning, and snaked up your neck, cradling your head. They were big, encompassing your skull and somehow, that made your breath hitch.

Hands that were made to kill, and yet, he was holding you so gently, as if you were fragile. A sudden boldness made you speak.

“Do you want me?” you asked. He lifted his head, nodded almost frantically and you made your choice.

Had the distance between you two really been that dramatically large? It felt as if there was no world around you, only your lips on his, his hands touching, holding as your husband should have held you. As you should have held your children.

Oh how you had longed for years, had none of it, and watched as others had been destroyed, by husbands, by children… yet it still felt so deeply unfair that you could not bring yourself to feel guilty for this little thing. Just this once.

You let Criston kiss you, worship you with his hands as he took his time, carefully unlacing your dress, letting the fabric pool around you. Still, you sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at him. He loomed in his armor, dwarfed you from this perspective.

When you were finally in your shift, you could not help shivering. Criston looked at you with worry in his eyes, before he slipped away, stoking the fire in the furnace. The heat did not match the feeling his hands left on your skin.

He stood before the fireplace, his silhouette illuminated as he took off his armor. The chestplate, the padding, all those parts that shielded him when he did his duties were discarded carelessly on the floor, a stark contrast to his eyes, trained to the ground.

The shadows that flickered through the room, created by candles and fire illuminate the muscles of his back as his dressshirt joined his armor on the ground. You could feel yourself biting your lips to keep yourself from making unladylike sounds.

When Criston returned to the bed, you expected him to push you into the bed, to climb atop you and do what Daemon could not. Instead, he fell to his knees before you at the end of the bed. Confused, you stared down at him.

“What are you doing?” you asked him. He did not answer, his eyes dark as he stared up at you, filled with things you would never tell your septon about. His hands pushed up the seams of your shift until it bunched at your hips.

Suddenly, you felt exposed, and your legs crossed automatically. You sat up straight, as you had been taught, until Criston’s hand returned to your knee, patient, waiting. You understood. Slowly, you uncrossed your legs again.

You still felt exposed as Criston began to place kisses on your knee, even more so when his mouth wandered upwards, towards your thighs. He had kissed your mouth, had barely kissed your neck and now he looked like he wanted to devour your thighs.

Criston took his time sucking marks into the flesh of your thighs, marking it as his, you suddenly realized. And how you loved to be loved.

His mouth moved upwards with a pace that was so slow it almost became painful. You felt a moan escape you, covering your mouth immediately. Criston, looking up again, shook his head. You felt confused – wanton sounds, those were condemned by the church. They could not possibly be what he, such a devout man, would want to hear?

Only, Criston wasn’t that devout after all, was he?

And when his lips touched your cunt in devout prayer, you answered in such currency. Eagerly, his tongue licked a stripe up your cunt, flicking the nub at the top with impatient insistence until you felt your back weaken. You let yourself fall backwards onto the mattress with a girlish ease you had not felt in years, but suddenly it was there, and you were floating…

How had the septons dared to tell you all this was sin? How could that be true? How could it be when-

Criston never ceased his movements when you grew louder, trying to contain your sounds to the confines of your chambers. A knot was beginning to tie itself in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter until you were begging Criston for something – you didn’t know what it was, except that he knew, that he would give it to you.

And then, suddenly, the knot was gone, and something else took its place. You weren’t sure if this was something you had ever felt before because it was all-consuming, washing over you like a golden wave and pulling you under. The tension, the pressure, all of it was gone, replaced by white-hot pleasure and your eyes rolled backwards, your back arching off the bed towards Criston.

Coming down from you high, you felt Criston slowly removing your shift, continuing his worship on your stomach and your chest, sucking and biting skin until he felt you squirm beneath him. It was then that he looked at you, smirking, but you could see that his eyes were full of something no one had ever looked at you with.

Not desire, nor lust, for you had seen those in men who eyed you greedily during banquets. It was not the empty, sad stare King Viserys gave Alicent. No, it was the glances Ser Harwin had thrown at Rhaenyra before her death. The look of adoration Queen Aemma had held for King Viserys all those years ago…

You had no need to say the word, for you knew, and it made your head spin. Could it be?

His hands pulled your shift over your head, until you were bare for him. He was still wearing breeches, but you could see the strain beneath them. Filled with sudden confidence, you pulled him towards you, kissing Ser Criston and wrapping your legs around his waist in a desperation to have him close to you.

Your hands fumbled at the laces of his breeches clumsily, until he gently removed them, doing the work himself. You could see Criston’s cock, half-concealed by the shadows between you and the dark, and yet, you knew it was bigger than Daemon’s. The thought of it made you afraid and your face heat up at the same time.

His hand moved languidly while he leaned down to kiss you. When his hips bucked into his hand, you heard yourself beg him for it, and that seemed to change something in him. Suddenly, Criston seemed hungry.

You could feel him between your legs, and then, you weren’t all that confident anymore. But Ser Criston held you close, whispering reassurances and praise until you could feel him enter you. There was a small stretch, a small feeling of discomfort, and Ser Criston halted his movements for a bit.

When you nodded, he began to move, his body rocking into you. He seemed to know what he was doing when he rolled his hips, stimulating that spot inside of you you had no idea existed in the first place.

The first time he hit it, you felt the air knocked out of you from pleasure. And then, the feeling became a rapid addiction. Your hands dragged his chest to yours, your legs wrapping around his waist again in an attempt to urge him to move faster, harder, to make you feel good.

Ser Criston, the perfect white knight, obliged. He snapped his hips against yours, angling them upwards and giving you something that you had not thought would work that way, feel that way.

“Please, Criston.” You gasped.

“Please what? What do you need, my lady?” Criston replied, his words coming in short intervals. He was just as gone as you, you realized, and that only added to your own high.

“Oh Gods,” you began. “Criston, I don’t know, I- please, please,…”

He rested his head in the crook of your neck again, but this time, his teeth found your shoulder, biting down gently at first. The pain was good. It added an edge you had no idea you needed, brought you back down into a realm where you could form some coherent thought.

The knot you had felt before, the tension that had turned into a coil in your stomach returned with a sudden fervency. This time, the feeling was there more quickly, more intense and it was almost too much. At the same time, you felt as if you would die if it stopped.

Criston seemed to feel it, and only later would you realise that your cunt was clenching around him so tightly that he was having difficulty not to moan as loudly as you. But Criston continued, and he pushed you over the edge, leaving you reeling in pleasure as his hand clapped over your mouth to muffle a scream.

He followed soon after, only that he refused to spend his seed inside you, instead painting your stomach with it. You know why he did it, and yet, it somehow still hurt. Before you could ponder too much on the matter, Criston disappeared, returning with his breeches on and a rag in hand. He cleaned you while you lied on the bed, the soreness beginning to sneak in after your high.

Afterwards, Criston lied down next to you. He did not speak, but he did not pray either, and for that, you were glad. And still, he was the one who pulled you closer. You held onto him, basked in his warmth.

Finally, your patience and virtue had been rewarded. You did not waste a single thought on what would come in the future, only that this was right, and no septon nor Alicent would be able to convince you otherwise (not that you would tell them about this to begin with).

You could feel yourself dozing off in your white knight’s arms, until the alarm bells of High Tide suddenly began to rang. As the castle came alive under the signal, Criston shot up, and so did you. Shouts passed your door, and he scrambled to put on his armor.

Never a moment’s peace in this world.

#criston #criston x reader #ser criston #ser criston x reader #ser criston cole #ser criston cole x reader #criston cole #criston cole x reader #smut #criston cole smut #hotd #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd smut #criston cole imagine #minor #rhaenyra targaryen x daemon targaryen #request #criston cole angst

[trashywormeateroffics]

i hate men (natasha romanoff x female reader)

the gif is not mine!

summary: so… being hopelessly in love with your best friend and getting super drunk is not the best combination? who would’ve thought? (a bit of angst but mostly fluff)

a/n: send me natasha requests if you want to!!!!!! you can send me normal requests, or you can also send me a taylor swift song and i’ll write a natasha fic with it!

masterlist

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you hated stark parties. they were loud, messy, annoying and did you mention loud?

being an introvert was a difficult task at the avengers compound, where these sort of events were being held every two weeks.

sighing, you gulp down the last of your drink. today you chose a coke, since you didn’t want to get drunk and embarrass yourself like the others always did.

“having fun?”

“no!” you say over enthusiastically. natasha snorts and shakes her head at you from behind the bar. she looks stunning, wearing a tight black dress that hugs her body perfectly and her red hair loose and wild. she never goes heavy on the make up, you noticed. not that she needs it, she’s breathtakingly beautiful without it.

“you should at least dance to one song, maybe you’ll even enjoy it.” she says, pulling you out of your not so friendly thoughts of her.

“i refuse.”

“don’t act like a petulant child.”

“don’t act like my mother.” natasha smirks. god that smirk. “if you call yourself mommy, i’m leaving.” the redhead shrugs.

“you handed it to me on a silver platter.”

“whatever.” you roll your eyes.

“i’ll have a manhattan, please.” a man slides up next to you on a barstool. natasha nods and begins preparing his drink. you don’t fail to notice the man’s lascivious look as he stares at her. it makes your blood boil. you know she hates when men sexualize her. and, truth be told, you hate it too. maybe not always for the right reasons, but most of the time they are. natasha romanoff is the best person in the entire world. she is also your favorite person in the entire world. she’s super smart, she’s so funny you almost peed yourself an embarrassing amount of times in front of her, she’s brave, she’s so goddamn brave you sometimes wish she wasn’t so she wouldn’t put herself at risk. but that’s the thing about natasha, she does that because she cares. she cares so much about everyone, and contrary to what people would think, it’s not because she feels guilty for her past, but because she’s good. her heart is so good, so kind. and she’s strong, the strongest. you know what she went through and still, she remained good. that takes a hell of a lot strength. and yes, she’s hot. she’s so fucking hot sometimes you can’t believe she’s even real. but she’s so much more than that. she’s your best friend, and the woman that you-

“thanks, gorgeous.” the man’s voice brings you back to reality and you look at him, hoping you’re shooting lasers out of your eyes and burning him. natasha simply nods and looks at you from the corner of her eye. you know what that look means, you know what every look means. if he tries something, i’m gonna shoot him.

you purse your lips to stop yourself from laughing loudly, your anger long forgotten when she enters your line of sight.

the man clears his throat, trying to gain her attention.

“so, you from around here?”

“no.” she tells him. then, she gives him a fake smile. “if you don’t mind, i’m pretty busy.” he does not seem to take the hint, so you turn to him.

“she’s asking you to leave.”

“and who are you?”

“one of tony stark’s closest friends. you wouldn’t want to be black listed for his parties for eternity, would you?” the man widens his eyes a bit. “yeah, i thought so. now, leave.” you shoo him away with a gesture of your hand, almost dismissively and he, thank every god that exists, gets up and leaves.

“my knight in shining armor.” natasha tells you, smirking. “you saved me.” you wish she was right. you wish you had done it to save her instead of yourself. but, to be frank, you didn’t. of course you don’t want her to feel uncomfortable, but you know she can handle herself just fine. the one who couldn’t stand it was you. you are an idiot. an idiot who’s hopelessly in love with her best friend.

“sorry, i know you can defend yourself. i just-“

“you just what?” she raises an eyebrow. you know that expression. it means she’s challenging you to tell her.

“i just hate men.” for a second, she looks almost disappointed. but you probably imagined that.

“yeah.” she nods. “i’m gonna head to the ladies room.” and then she leaves.

you sigh and run your hands over your face. natasha romanoff is going to be the death of you. but oh, what a sweet death.

“when are you gonna tell her?” sam’s voice makes you lift your head up.

“tell who what?”

“tell natasha that you love her.”

“i’ve already told her that a million times.”

“no.” he shakes his head. “that you love her love her, that you wanna kiss her.” you scoff.

“never. oh and also, could you keep it quiet? what if she hears you?”

“then finally you will both admit that you’re in love with one another and stop giving each other longing glances across every single room you’re in.”

“i don’t give her longing glances.” you lie. of course you do.

“uh-huh.”

“whatever samantha. don’t care, didn’t ask. plus i don’t even know if she likes girls.”

“she likes you.”

“as a friend.”

“you are so goddamn stubborn…” he begins saying, but his voice fades into the background when you see her. your breathing stops. she’s dancing. she’s swaying her hips and smiling and she looks so fucking angelic you want to pinch yourself because, surely, this must be a dream. but then, your heart drops to your stomach. he’s touching her. he has his fucking hands on her hips as he dances behind her and she isn’t pushing him away. you feel sick to your stomach. “hey, you there?” sam waves his hand in front of you. “hey…?” he trails off. then he probably follows your line of sight because he ohs in understanding. he says your name and pity drips from it. “they’re just dancing.”

“yeah.” you say, choked up. you hate that seeing her with someone else makes your heart burn from the pain. but it does, and it hurts so much. it was the first time since you admitted to yourself that you were in love with her that you saw her with another person. a man. stupid men and their stupid hands. tears well up in your eyes, but you won’t cry. you refuse to cry. not for love. never.

“what are you doing?” sam asks you as you walk all the way around the bar and crouch under it. “don’t.” he tells you when he sees what’s in your hands. you look at him dead in the eye and gulp down the whiskey straight from the bottle.

\\\\

“woo! this is so fun!” you shout over the music. you’ve been dancing for almost an hour now and you were most definitely drunk. you don’t even notice sam and natasha calling your name.

“what are you doing? you hate drinking.” the redhead frowns.

“maybe it’s time for someone to go to bed.”

“yes, nat. go to bed.” you tell her.

“no, whiskey straight out of the bottle, i’m talking about you.” you laugh at sam’s long nickname but then you pout when you sway and almost fall to the floor. “you wanna take care of it?” he asks the spy and she nods.

“i’ll take her to bed.”

“and what will we do there?” you ask suggestively. natasha looks at you unimpressed.

“you, lay down. me, scold you.”

“are you gonna spank me?” you smirk. she swallows hard. uh oh, she’s mad. you raise your hands innocently in front of you and she rolls her eyes.

“let’s go.” you want to protest but you know better than that. begrudgingly you begin following her, but stop when the room starts to spin. natasha must notice it, because she turns around and puts her arm around your waist and your arm around her shoulders.

the walk to your room is silent, except for your giggles. you don’t really know what you’re giggling about, but she’s here so it makes sense to do so.

she helps you lay down on your bed and takes off your shoes. as she does so, you look at her. god, you love her so much. and god, you are doomed for life.

“you’re never gonna love me.” you blurt out. she looks at you and frowns.

“what?”

“you’re never gonna love me.” you tell her again, pouting. she waits until she’s tucked you in the bed to answer.

“of course i love you.”

“no.” you frown. “you don’t.”

“what are you talking about?”

“i’m so drunk.” you say out of the blue.

“come on, on your side.” you do as she says and position yourself on your side, so you don’t drown in your own vomit and die.

“you don’t want me to die.” you slur, almost asleep now.

“of course i don’t want you to die!” you open your eyes and look at her. she’s kneeling next to you on the bed and sorting out some pills for tomorrow morning. you’re most likely going to need them. she then puts them on your nightstand next to your water bottle.

“but you don’t love me.” you say again. she looks at you, frowning. you stare at her. her green eyes, so kind. her cheeks, you want to squeeze them between your fingers and call her cute. her eyebrows, so perfect. and her lips, god, her lips. they look so soft. you bet they’re warm to the touch. so kissable.

“you’re so beautiful, natty.”

she looks taken aback by that, but she quickly recovers and smiles softly.

“don’t try to sweet talk me into not being mad at you.”

“i’m not!” you protest. “you can be mad at me but you’re still the prettiest girl in the world.”

“you’re drunk.”

“and you’re beautiful.”

she says your name softly with a smile on her face.

“get some rest, detka.” her hand is softly combing through your hair.

“i love it when you call me detka. did i pronounce that right? probably not.” you mumble. she chuckles.

“you pronounced it right.”

“nat…” you say.

“what?”

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

“no.” you pout. “don’t lie. it’s not nice.” she stops caressing your hair and frowns.

“what is it with you today? of course i love you.”

“no, nat. i love you love you.”

“i love you love you too.” she tells you.

“i love you like i wanna kiss you love you not you’re my best friend love you.” she blinks at you. for a bit she doesn’t say anything. then she briefly shakes her head and sighs.

“you’re drunk. you should get some rest.” your heart breaks. she doesn’t love you like that. you should’ve known. now you’ve ruined everything. tears begin welling up in your eyes and it isn’t long before you’re crying.

“hey, hey- don’t cry.” she tells you as she wipes your tears with her thumb.

“i told you you didn’t love me.” she says your name again and takes a deep breath.

“you’re not gonna remember this but- if you do, we’ll talk in the morning.”

and then she leaves. tonight you are crying yourself to sleep.

\\\\

you open your eyes and stretch your limbs. then, you sit up and immediately groan. the most violent headache is currently splitting your mind into two. what possessed you to drink so fucking much? oh, natasha romanoff and her stupid beautiful self. and seeing her with another man, that definitely didn’t help.

you tsk and roll your eyes.

what even happened last night after you got hammered? how did you even get up to your room? did sam bring you here? did nat? no, she was too busy with someone else.

a knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts and you tell the person to come in, and even though it comes out more as a mumble, they seem to understand, because the door opens. there, standing in all her glory, is natasha romanoff herself, accompanied by a small brown bag and a coffee, you notice after a bit.

“hey.” she greets you from the doorway.

“hi.”

“i brought you breakfast. figured you might wanna eat before taking an aspirin.”

“thank you.” you tell her and she nods awkwardly. then, she approaches you and sits down on the bed in front of you while your back is against the headboard. “did sam bring me here last night?”

“nope. i did.”

“oh… thanks natty.” she swallows and gives you a small smile that actually resembles more a wince than anything else. weird.

“so… did i do something embarrassing? please tell me i didn’t try to strip on top of a table or something.” she chuckles and shakes her head.

“you didn’t try to strip.”

“but did i do other embarrassing things?” she opens her mouth to speak but then, surprising you, she pauses and abruptly shakes her head. oh no. what did you do that is making her act so strange? you try to remember. you saw her dancing with that man and decided to get drunk. she says she was the one who brought you to your bedroom so something must’ve happened here. did you puke all over her or something? or even worse, did you admit your feelings? your eyes widen. oh no. oh no, oh no, oh no no no. that’s exactly what you did, you goddamn idiot! you remember now. you told her you loved her! you told her you wanted to kiss her! of course she’s being weird!

“nat-“

“you don’t have to say anything.” she cuts you off.

“i really wish that was the case cause i’m really fucking embarrassed but- i need to say something.”

“we all say dumb shit when we’re drunk.”

“i said the dumbest shit i could’ve ever said.” you deadpan. for a second you see a flash of hurt in her eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it appears. could it be that she- no, no, she didn’t feel that way about you.

“nat-“ she puts her hand up.

“don’t need to say anything, i’ll just forget it happened.”

“but nat-“ she says your name again, almost begging.

“please, just drop it. i get it, you didn’t mean what you said. it’s okay.” you open your mouth to say something but then you close it and frown. did she think you didn’t mean what you said? that’s why she wanted you to stop talking about it? because she wanted you to mean it?

“i-“ you look at her with wide eyes. this is it. you’re gonna tell her in the most beautiful, poetic way that you- “i hate men.” what? the redhead frowns. “i meant, i- ugh- i hate men but i especially hate them when they’re dancing with you.”

“what?” she asks now, seemingly confused.

“i saw you dancing with that guy last night. i got- ugh i’m so dumb- i got jealous. i got jealous cause i’m in love with you and… and i want to be the one who dances with you like that.” natasha does not say a word. you simply continue, because of course once you’ve started you can’t stop. “i’m so in love with you nat, i- you are literally my favorite person in the world. you are so smart and funny and kind and strong and- you can totally slap me and never talk to me again but if this is the last time we’re gonna speak i want you to know that- that i love you with my whole heart and i will always love you.” for the first time since you’ve met her, natasha romanoff is speechless. you don’t know if it’s because she’s desperately in love with you too or she’s simply thinking of different ways to kill you and get rid of your body. you really hope it’s the former. “um- could you- could you say something, please?” she blinks but still, nothing. god, you broke her. “nat- i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have-“ and she’s kissing you. natasha’s lips are on yours and you’re in heaven. or something above heaven because this is simply too perfect, too beautiful. she moves against you, softly, so softly, as if she’s afraid to hurt you. your arms are glued to your body and hers are too. almost as if you were scared to break the spell if you touched each other. the kiss is gentle, sweet, but it sends a shock through your body. you’ve never felt like that. kissing was simply not that interesting to you, but now you understand why people in romantic movies do it so often. natasha’s kiss is healing every broken bone inside your body, it’s like a cure, fixing, mending. but unfortunately, it ends all too soon. when she pulls away you let out a soft whine and she chuckles, almost making fun of you. you lay your forehead on hers and you both breathe in deeply. then, you open your eyes to find that she’s already looking at you.

“so, does this mean you love me too?”

“oh no, that was a platonic kiss.”

“natasha!” you whine and she shuts you up by placing another kiss on your lips.

“of course i love you detka. i’ve loved you for so long.”

“i wasn’t even sure if you liked girls.” you tell her as you lift your hand and caress her face.

“i wasn’t either but then…”

“then…” you raise your eyebrows.

“this beautiful girl showed up in my life and i couldn’t help but fall in love with her.” your heart takes a leap and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning like a maniac.

“what an amazing girl.” you tell her.

“the best.”

“i love you.” you kiss her again. “i’m so happy i think i’m gonna vomit rainbows.” natasha lets out a laugh.

“don’t vomit on me or i’m kicking your ass.” you pout at her.

“you wouldn’t.” she looks at you, serious for a moment. then, she breaks into a smile.

“i wouldn’t.” you laugh breathily and purse your lips.

“i can’t believe i started this whole confession by saying i hate men.” the redhead laughs.

“i can’t believe you said that either.”

“hey!” her shoulders shake as she laughs. she looks so angelic when she’s happy. you sigh softly, dreamily. you might hate men, but you sure as hell don’t hate natasha romanoff.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (8)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon; Aegon Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: When you lost control

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest

The king is dead.

The words ring through your mind repeatedly, a horrible reminder that everything is changing for better or worse.

"Aemond," you finally find your voice after what feels like (and likely is) hours. "Is it true? Is he..."

Aemond gives you a sad look and pulls you close against his chest. His lips press to the top of your head as he whispers his answer. "Yes."

You aren’t sure how to feel. You loved your grandfather, and he surely loved you, but you’re nervous for your mother. You’ve heard so many whispers throughout the Keep… whispers that spell disaster for your mother’s ascension to the throne. There are those that would see your mother dead before they see her as Queen, and you’ve got the sinking feeling your husband and his mother are at the head of that battle.

“The safest place for you is our bedchamber,” Aemond tells you, and your heart immediately drops to your stomach. “You must stay here.”

“And if I don’t?” You look up at Aemond, tilting your chin in defiance. “Besides, why should I? My mother will be Queen. She is Queen if Viserys is truly dead. Why should her heir hide away and not be seen?”

Aemond’s lips are set in a thin line. “It’s in your best interest to listen to your husband.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Do you know what my grandfather is currently doing?” Aemond grabs you by the wrist and pulls you close. The pupil of his good eye is blown wide, black swallowing violet until only a void is left. “He’s searching the grounds for Aegon. Why do you think he would do that?”

“Because his father is dead.”

“Aemma, you aren’t a stupid girl. You know why. My grandfather will not allow your mother to sit on the Iron Throne.”

You swallow the bile rising in your throat. You didn’t expect Aemond to lie to you, he would never do that, but you didn’t expect such blunt honesty either. And if Aegon has truly ran off… you take a deep breath to center yourself. Your marriage to Aemond is still so new and now you’re being tested in a way you never could’ve imagined.

“What will you do?” You finally find your voice as you gaze up at Aemond, his features sharper than usual in the early morning light.

“Mother has tasked me with finding Aegon before our grandfather’s men.”

“And then?”

“I have no desire to see Aegon on the throne.”

Despite his words, something remains unsaid. He doesn’t want Aegon on the throne, but he doesn’t want your mother either. He won’t support her claim, therefore denying your claim as well.

Before tears can fall, you yank your wrist out of his grip. “Go then. Support a usurper over your wife.”

“It’s more than that and you know it.”

“No! I don’t know, Aemond! Viserys chose Rhaenyra as his heir. She is his oldest living child. I am my mother’s heir as her eldest child. What’s so complicated about that?”

“People will never accept a woman on the throne. Not only that, but your brothers are bastards and everyone knows. You have to be her heir because you are her only legitimate child. Unfortunately, not even that will save you if the people decide to rise up against your mother in favor of Aegon.”

“They would never! All the houses swore to recognize-“

“Words said by dead lords whose children don’t share their sentiment.” Aemond observes you quietly for a moment. “Don’t make me post guards at your door. I have no desire to make you a prisoner, but you’re forcing my hand. Stay out of this fight.”

Aemond presses his lips to yours, but you refuse to kiss him back, keeping your body rigid when he tries to hold you. You watch him go silently, rage simmering in your blood. When the two of you married, you had promised yourself to try. Try and make it work. Try to be a good wife to Aemond. How can you possibly do any of that now without betraying your family?

There’s only one option left for you: you need to find Aegon before anyone else. If anyone can convince him to not take the Iron Throne it’s you. He would do anything you asked of him.

Luckily, you know him better than anyone else. Even Aemond. They’ll search the brothels, the ale houses, but you know better. Aegon is smart enough not to hide in places he’ll be expected. That only leaves on place.

The Great Sept.

When you go to leave your room, you’re stopped immediately by the King’s Guard. True to his word, Aemond posted them outside of your shared chambers. They glare at you silently until you shut the door and retreat deeper into the room. There’s another way- a secret way your mother taught you should something like this happen. So you set to work, tapping against the wall until you find the door hidden by the fireplace.

You slowly make your way down the dark passage, sticking close to the damp stone wall. It won’t be far to the Great Sept once you make it out of the Keep. The difficult part will be not being spotted. You’ll stick to the shadows, though, and you’ll keep your hood up as far as you can without drawing suspicion.

You can do this.

You have to do this.

For your mother.

Fresh air finally washes over you as you reach the exit of the passage. You’re well outside of the Keep now, no guards to spot you as you sneak down the street. The Sept looms large and imposing in front of you. You’ve never been particularly religious, but you’ll praise any god you can if you’re the one to find Aegon first.

The Sept is still in the early morning as you step inside. Candles haven’t even been lit yet and the silence around you is suffocating.

“Aegon?” You try to make as little noise as possible, unwilling to alert anyone to your presence.

You hear a small cough come from underneath a table and kneel down. Aegon grins up at you, absolutely reeking of wine. You offer him your hand. He takes it willingly.

“Everyone is looking for you,” you tell him.

“And yet you found me first.” His expression grows dark. “I won’t do it. I don’t want the throne. Tell them to give it to Aemond… I’m not suited for it.”

When you don’t argue with him, Aegon lifts a brow in question. “Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?”

“Not exactly. I don’t want Aemond to be King and gods know I’ll only be Queen if my mother is dead.” You take Aegon’s hands in your own and hold them against your chest. “Aegon, we both know they’ll never stop trying to make you King. I need you to stop them. Do whatever it takes. Please.”

Aegon tilts his head, eyes drawn to your lips. “Run away with me. We can go to Braavos and write to your mother. She’ll understand and pardon us after she takes the Throne back.”

“Aegon, You’re married. What will happen to your children if we leave? You can’t protect them from Braavos.”

“No mention of your own marriage. Is there trouble for the newlyweds?” He steps forward and crowds you against the wall. “Say the word and I’ll take you away from all of it.”

“We can’t. We have to stay and you have to fight. I’ll stand by your side as your brother’s wife, but we can’t leave this mess for my mother to clean up alone. We have to help her.”

Something changes in his expression. His face tenses up and his eyes darken as he listens to your words. “And if I don’t? If I decide to take the Throne from Rhaenyra, will you still stand by my side? What if I stay the selfish bastard I’ve always been?”

“What would you gain from doing that?”

“You.”

That one little word sits heavy in your soul. “Aegon…”

He shushes you, kissing you sloppily. His lips are warm and demanding while one of his hands drifts down to hike your thigh up his waist.

“The only fucking thing I’ve ever wanted is you, and you’re the only thing I can’t have. But if I’m King? No one can stop me from taking you for my own.”

“You can’t.”

“I could. Who would stop me?”

“I would.”

Aegon trails his lips against your neck before biting down hard. “Would you? I don’t think so. Aemond wouldn’t stop me either. He doesn’t have the fucking courage. You’ll be mine one way or another. I’m letting you decide how.”

You let out a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t leave.”

“Then a king I’ll be.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you

[belit0]

What if Indra and Madara have a wife that really loves her kids, she also yells at him when he's been too mean and defends her kids with her life😭 I hope Indra doesn't throw hands😭💀

Noooo, Indra may be a terrible yandere, but he knows better than to be a woman-beating coward!🙏🙏🙏

I love all requests involving the Uchiha as fathers, please keep sending me them!! It's beautiful to see them in environments that don't involve war and destruction, and being fatherly love figures😭❣️

Indra

- He loves (Y/N) with all his little heart will allow, but getting involved with the way he handles the upbringing of his children is a big NO. He will use an iron fist to forge kids who know how to stand up for themselves if necessary, and if she has anything to say about it, they will fight. Papa Indra is a great and fearsome figure of respect to whom no argument is countered and orders are obeyed (for his children, (Y/N) fearlessly ignore this).

- His wife will be present at all training, and will try to reduce Otsutsuki's severity altogether. If she expected him to be gentle because it is about his own children, she is wrong. It will drive her crazy when she sees her little ones flying through the air because daddy is too tough, and she scolds him in front of them.

- Indra is deeply insulted by how (Y/N) tries to diminish his authority before the kids, and they engage in a quarrel that lasts for weeks. Eventually, they come to an agreement, where she doesn't mess with his ways, but he is a little less severe. When the infants turn 10, he can treat them as he pleases, but not until that age.

- He focuses on an infant-friendly regimen, which even for (Y/N) is still too demanding, and on many occasions he has to put up with her nagging and watching her drag the children away from him in her arms.

- She is so overprotective, her own kids are the ones who return with him to the training ground after escaping their mother's watchful eye, and ask him to continue with their activities. Indra smiles proudly and restrains himself, as he appreciates his sons also want to spend time with him.

- He's not the best father, but he tries.

Madara

- He can't be hard on them, he adores them so much he can't even scold them when they deserve it. In fact, Madara is the permissive father his children ask for everything first because they know he will say yes, afterwards going to confront their mother with daddy's confirmation in advance to argue their case.

- He refuses to be the one training them. He considers himself a very tough and pushy person with the workouts he prefers to give, and could never treat his little ones that way. He ends up asking Izuna to take over, and (Y/N) scolding the young Uchiha when he gets too hard on them.

- The few times he had to scold one of them for making a mess, he did it guiltily. In his children he sees the souls of those brothers he lost as a child, and he can't be mean to them. He lets them do whatever they want, and if Mom comes back to find a mess at home because Dad didn't set limits, Madara will be reprimanded along with his children as if they were all the same age.

- In one special situation, his children made a big disaster while (Y/N) was not at home. At that point he realized he should put his foot down because his children see him more as an accomplice than a figure of respect, and he goes a bit overboard with his scolding. His kids are slightly traumatized, and know not to push their luck when it comes to their father.

- He rarely yells at them, and beyond that particular time, he did so only one other time. In front of (Y/N), he berated his boys vehemently, and it was she who yelled at him at the time for being "too hard on my babies!" (as if she wasn't...). Madara chose to abide by the commander's orders and remain silent.

- Good father, with a lot of effort.

#madara uchiha x reader #uchiha madara x reader #madara x reader #indra otsutsuki x reader #otsutsuki indra x reader #indra x reader #madara uchiha #uchiha madara #madara #otsutsuki indra #indra otsutsuki #indra #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto imagines #uchiha clan #naruto x reader #naruto scenarios

[agentrouka-blog]

I often see this sentiment that Ned should have told Cat the truth about Jon and it would have solved all their problems. I disagree with this? I don't think Ned was being an idiot for not telling Cat. I think there were a multitude of reasons of why he didn't tell her, and all of them held weight in his decision.

1) he didn't know or trust her when they got married

2) a secret stops being one if you tell even one person about it. He promised Lyanna he wouldn't tell anyone and that included everyone, except obviously the people already present at the tower (Howland and the wet nurse I presume)

3) there is a possibility that Cat's behavior towards Jon would have changed knowing he was not a result of Ned's affair, but her resentment towards him also provided a cover. If she treated him, say cordially, then it would have been very suspicious considering Ned was already fostering him at his own home.

4) after he came to know Cat, he would have realized that she was fiercely protective of her family, she wouldn't have thought twice before giving up Jon for her children if it came to that. A choice no sane person, including Ned, can fault her for. By not telling her, he removed that option for her, saved Jon and also saved her from the guilt that would have haunted her.

5) he was committing treason that would have endangered Cat and his children. In case it ever got out there was plausible deniability for his family that they didn't know and it might have saved them.

His actions hurt both Catelyn and Jon but it was a very complicated situation overall so I understand him too. I don't know what would have been the alternative because I don't think telling Catelyn would have solved anything. What is your opinion on this?

I don't think people generally claim it would have magically fixed "everything", but many also misunderstand how Ned is mishandling the situation. He isn't actually handling it well by himself, he isn't handling it the way he would have if Jon was actually his bastard. His inability to be "normal" about it and come up with a convincing lie created most of the avoidable problems we see, which is Catelyn's eternal insecurity about Ned's feelings for Jon (and his mother) which feeds her anxiety about her own children being usurped, plus Jon's complete trauma over knowing absolutely nothing about his mother. Both are left hanging for no logical reason from their POV, and that's an absolutely insane path for Ned to go down.

True, and then he chose to go the worst way about it and never fixed it later.

Howland knows. The Daynes know. Wylla probably knows. Benjen probably knows. Come on. And we don't know what she made him promise and it's more likely to be along the lines of protecting her son than specifically never telling anyone who could have helped him handle this better.

Catelyn being "nice" to Jon isn't even half of it. She could have advised Ned on how to handle the situation in a realistic way with the least harm done. Which is likely to foster Jon somewhere, make plans for his future instead of leaving him aimless, create a believable lie about his mother that doesn't shame him, have a harmoniously accepted situation instead of making his kids grow up with this unresolved conflict warping their emotional well-being.

What situation could realistically arise where Cat could "sell out" Jon to "save" her children that specifically depends on her knowing this and also wouldn't mean they are all already in deep trouble? It's nonsense. Also, Catelyn "Family Duty Honor" Tully would not fault Ned for wanting to save his sister's child. It's a perfectly decent choice on his part and a dilemma she could easily understand. Come on!

How is this (thin glaze) of plausible deniability not equally achieved by simply lying (and lying better than Ned can, especially)?

It's just that Ned left both Cat and Jon deeply anxious and traumatized, respectively, because his decision was to lie very badly and then refuse to answer all reasonable questions. It has repercussions for all of them. From Cat to Sansa to Jon to Robb.

Plus: Ned may have actually had an opportunity to heal from his horrific trauma if he had talked to literally anyone about it. He may have been less likely to cling to Robert as a vestige of his lost youth, blinding himself to the man's monstrous faults and sticking around to his own doom.

It would not have "fixed everything" but you can't convince me it wouldn't have fixed some things.

#eddard stark critical #jon snow #rlj #catelyn stark #trauma #rouka ask

[ctitan98official]

Larissa Weems gets pregnant by Y/N part 4

Okay, took me way too long to get this out lol. Anyway, here’s where we discover who Y/N’s parents really are! Let’s get into it!

“Mom? … Dad?” You ask in disbelief.

Larissa’s head immediately snaps to you, her eyes wide. “Wait… What?!” She gasps. These people can’t possibly be your… Parents.

Morticia and Gomez Addams?

No. Preposterous.

Larissa wants to ask you to explain, but you’re at a loss for words. She can tell you’re completely stunned.

Morticia puts her hands to her mouth in shock. She hasn’t seen you in so long. Her first baby… Her eyes well up with tears. “Cara mia…” She sobs quietly, so grateful to see you.

You’ve really missed her and go over to give her a hug.

Morticia holds you close and kisses your forehead. She pulls your face back a bit so she can look at you closely. “So grown up,” She marvels, both in awe and sadness. This… Isn’t the way your life was supposed to be. Separated from your family like this…

You and Gomez have a… Very strained relationship. And that’s being generous.

Shortly after all of the shit that went down with Garrett Gates, Morticia discovered she was pregnant with you. She was terrified, of course. Being a teen mom is far from an easy task. However, she was also thrilled. She and the love of her life were about to have their own little baby.

Gomez was… Less than enthused, though. The last thing he wanted at his age was to be a dad. After you were born, he began to develop a deep resentment towards you. It was obvious in the way he spoke to you and interacted with you. He was gruff when you asked him questions and was often sarcastic, making you question just about everything you did.

With Wednesday and Pugsley, Gomez is a very different and doting father. He’s matured in that respect. But, he never really got over what he thought you “Did” to him. In his eyes, you robbed him of his youth.

Your relationship only got worse and worse as you got older. He began to yell at you more. He threw things at you. You always felt like you were walking on eggshells around him.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You knew your mother, sister, and brother loved you, but… You had to get out of that damn house. You decided to leave the same day you turned eighteen.

Morticia sobbed and begged you not to go. She felt so guilty.

It was heartbreaking seeing your mom so upset. But your mind was already made up. Your first order of business after leaving the house was to change your last name. You also never let your family know your whereabouts. You knew Morticia would just come find you and bring you home otherwise. But, you did try to call and facetime her when you could.

You got a job to support yourself and worked your ass off to get scholarships so you could go to school.

While Morticia is endlessly proud of what you have accomplished all on your own, it hurts her to know that you had to suffer partly because of her actions.

She wouldn’t leave her husband. She just… Couldn’t. She loves Gomez so much. She kept thinking that things would change over time, but they didn’t. Morticia chose him over you. As much as it makes her want to be sick… It’s true. She’s your mother. Her number one goal should have been to keep her child safe, loved, and protected… And she failed.

Unaware of the self-hatred coursing through your mother’s very being, you offer her a warm smile before you walk back over to be with Larissa.

Larissa looks at you and smiles softly, trying to convey that she will help you through whatever’s going on

But, before anybody can say anything, Pugsley slips past Gomez, who is stubbornly refusing to look at you.

“Y/N!” Pugsley shouts, running over to you and wrapping you in a hug.

You laugh breathlessly as your little brother all but knocks you over. You hold him tightly and pat his back. “What’s up, killer?” You ask.

Pugsley pulls back and grins up at you. “Not much, I guess. Just happy to see you,” He says.

You smile and ruffle his hair. “It’s great to see you too, Pugsley.”

Surprisingly, Wednesday also approaches you, albeit much slower and calmer than Pugsley did. Her face is just as solemn as ever, but she wordlessly reaches out and gives you a quick hug as well.

Wednesday has a special place in her frigid heart just for you. She was devastated when you had moved out. You were her best friend. She could tell you anything and you always gave her the best advice. She knows you left because Gomez was so hard on you, but she selfishly wishes that you had stayed, just so she wouldn’t feel so alone.

Before your sister can pull away, you tilt her chin up so you can look at her better. “Hey, short stuff,” You grin.

Wednesday damn near smiles for a second at the old nickname you just used for her.

Ugh. Too many emotions.

She silently scurries back over to Gomez and Morticia, head down and hands clasped.

Pugsley reluctantly follows suit, catching the stern look Gomez is shooting him.

The room is silent and Larissa clears her throat, rather uncomfortable. “Why don’t we all take a seat, hmm?” She suggests.

Everyone agrees and you sit right next to your girlfriend. You’re not moving an inch from her side. She’s the only thing keeping you grounded right now.

Larissa’s hand finds yours and you take a deep breath. As long as she’s here, you’ll be fine… You hope.

Morticia has taken notice of how… Close you seem to be with Larissa. However, now is certainly not the time to question it. She’ll… Just put a pin in that for later.

Larissa takes a look at Wednesday’s file on her desk and desperately tries to steer the conversation onto a less tense path. “Now, I see that Wednesday will be transferring to Nevermore in a few days-”

“Why are you here?” Gomez suddenly interrupts.

Everyone’s eyes whip to him.

The room is dead quiet once again.

Gomez is staring right at you with the same hatred you’ve come to expect from him. It makes you feel like a defenseless little kid again.

“Gomez,” Morticia warns.

You feel Larissa’s hand tighten around yours. It calms you. You take a deep breath before answering. “I teach here,” You say simply, meeting his glare with a stony one of your own.

Morticia gasps at this. “Oh, Y/N, how wonderful!” She gushes. Maybe… She can come see you now. And… You, Wednesday, and Pugsley can spend some time together again.

Gomez, on the other hand, groans and rolls his eyes. “Great…” He says under his breath, clearly annoyed.

As much as you wish you didn’t care, Gomez’s reaction cuts you deep. Why does your own father hate you so fucking much?

Larissa looks at the pain on your face. She can’t stand it. You are such a wonderful person. You don’t deserve to hurt like this. “Y/N? Why don’t you take Pugsley for a tour of the grounds while we talk about Wednesday’s enrollment? There’s a lot to see,” She offers, trying to get you out of this toxic environment… For a moment, at least.

You and Pugsley’s eyes both brighten.

“Yeah, Y/N! Let’s go!” He cheers.

You chuckle at your brother and nod. “Alright, let’s go, bud.”

You give Larissa a grateful smile. She always knows how to make everything better.

As you go to stand up, Larissa has to stop herself from leaning in to give you a kiss. The last thing you need right now is for your family to know that you two are together… Much less that she’s having your baby.

It’s like a fucking soap opera.

But… Something finally hits Larissa. Like a ton of bricks.

She’s… Going to give birth to Morticia and Gomez Addams’… Grandchild in just a few months.

Talk about an awkward class reunion…

Note: Gomez is a total dick in this one. I mean, I love him as a character, but I needed a villain 😭 Let me know what you thought! :3

Masterlist

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #principal weems #larissa x reader #larissa x y/n #netflix wednesday #morticia addams #gomez addams #pugsley addams

[royalwriteroftheuniverse]

I Just had a Baby with Chris

We all have our favorite Hollywood Chris so choose your favorite to have a child with.... at least fictional chose your favorite but I did write in Christopher Robert Evans name (I do not know him personally and this is an alternative Universe with how my version of Chris would act. )

Comments Welcome nd reblogs welcome to not repost translate or publish anywhere

18+ just in case as always language, mentions of breastfeeding a baby just hours of childbirth nothing graphic fluff a tiny tiny bit of angst because someone wants to hold thier daughter while the other- oh well you'll see but totally fluff:

"Hey look its Mommy she's waking up, say hi Mommy" Chris placed a gentle kiss to to his sleepy newborn daughter and waved her tiny hand. He was walking around the room with his shirt off and the baby just in her diaper

"Honey she's 12 hours old I think the skin to skin contact is-"

"Hey," he whined "you get skin to skin"

"Well I'm breastfeeding her, its inevitable."

"Let me have her now." He moved sideways half in possession had in teasing.

"Chris she's not going to automatically because a daddys girl just cause of that."

He pouted "I can try."

I smiled it was cute he's been waiting so long for this and all he wanted was just to hold her. But I didn't want her to get cold. But I guess Chris body heat helps. I looked at the time.

"Gimmie she gunna be hungrey"

"No she's fine." He gave her a few kisses on the side of her head."

"Christopher Robert Evans are you withholding our daughter from me?"

"No I-"

"Need I remind you who spent 18 hours of labor I. Want. My. Child." I growled because oh hell no "Dont you dare-"

"Ok, ok. Look Mamas all protective she loves you so much. Daddy knows better than to say no."

"You already did now give me my child." I don't know why but at this moment I was ready to kill him.

Then she started getting fussy and the started crying within seconds.

"Sweetheart now look what you did she's crying she needs her mother."

"She needs her father too."

"Don't make me throw this tissue box. Give me my child I will not ask again." She was full on crying and I need my child I was thinking of how I could kill him and not let our baby fall to the floor.

"Ok ok" Chris handed her over.

"Hi there baby" she was still crying

"I know Daddy doesn't listen to Mommy he loves you but Mommy know when you need food doesn't she." I cooed "yea I know you're Hangrey just like Mama"

She cried harder with a higher pitch, making Chris wince,

"Just like Mama," I smiled. She is definitely my kid.

I got my chest out and arranged to hold her and within seconds she was feeding and calming down. Frankly so was I.

I looked at him with an I told you so.

"How'd you know?"

"Chris she's been eating every like 4 or 5 hours- I just knew. I'm sorry I got aggressive I just." I sigh "I know how long you've wanted to be a Father for but I wanted to hold her I knew she was gunna be fussy I just knew. "

"Honey it's ok the doctor said your hormones will be a bit outta wack."

"Out of wack I threatened to hit you with the tissue box"

"I refused to give you or child."

"Ok your right I win." I smiled. He rolled his eyes- I wasn't going to argue when I already won.

And then looked down at our now sleeping and eatting angel.

Then I heard his camera phone.

"Chris I am half naked."

"Come in its a beautiful thing"

"Breastfeeding, my chest or our child?"

"All three." It sounded like half question half statement

"You learn fast. "

He chuckled. "I love you so much I didnt think I could love you any more than I do or did but seeing you bring her into this world giving me the family I wanted making it complete and then all this love I have for this little one all because of you l. You're amazing.?

"Thank you." I looked at our little bundle of joy and she truly was. I cannot believe is ours I can't believe I gee. I can't believe I pushed something this sized out if my body.

" I mean it I'm I don't have the words right now and all the thank you and all the "I love yous" in the world dont even begin to scratch the service.

" How about you get some sleep and let the nurses in the nursery take her for a bit hm?

You need rest. Its their job."

She grabbed my finger in her sleep.

"And miss out on these moments. No." He took another picture.

"Hmm yea she is a calm baby when she gets what she wants. Just like mama was wasn't she? No really tho I'd wake up half the nursery plus And we're doating over her. She knows already we're hooked."

There was a small knock on the door.

"Hey how are you two doing I brought some food I figured you'd both be awake.

How'd you know

"I was, our first born is always special.

"Thanks Ma" he deadpanned.

"Chris hasn't gotten any sleep he's very insistent on the skin to skin content I think the nursery should be fine taking care of her so we sleep after all we won't have help like that for at least 18 years. "

"I can always watch her when you get home if you need seep"

"Really? Oh you are the best mother in law ever"

I sigh, "Sorry I'm tired. I shouldn't be just had a nap but I am"

"You napped for 20 minutes darling. After 18 hours of labor you deserve sleep."

"Only 20 minutes? She's still feeding dont let me sleep."

"It's ok if you do"

"I just don't want to miss a second. Besides I bullied Christopher enough for her."

"Oh really" the grandmother smirked.

"Yea I knew she was going to want to eat and I wanted my daughter and he wouldn't hand her over...but I also threatened him with the tissue box. "

"Chris you knew better than to come between a mother and her child."

"I just wanted to hold her," he defended himself "Half that cute butt is mine."

"Yea her butt is cute. come'er on the side she's feeding just sit behind me can barely keep my eyes open. Just just in case."

"You sure"

"Chris its not like you haven't touched them before"

"Well you said you didn't want me touching you again."

I rolled my eyes. Thinking back to the l8 hours of labor where at one point I said i never want you to touch me ever again and then then damn idiot took his hand away the one I was holding onto for dear life, which I then yelled at him to give me his hand back and then he said "You didnt want me to touch you." I still don't know if he was trying to be a smart ass or if he actually thought he was doing what I wanted.

"Just make sure she's OK hold her. "

"Rest my love"he kissed the side of my head.

"I got her I got you both." He held his head just under her pillow and then I fell asleep at that.

Point of View Change

She the had comfort of knowing Chris has her back their daughter's back and head as well and she couldn't ask for more.

"You wouldn't give her her child?

"I was bon- you know she's half min too but me and her were bonding. I was telling her how she needs to let Mommy sleep and how I'd take care of her, she was so silent. I and I want to get skin to skin contact in as much as I can. I'm nervous about letting her out of my sight. It feels like a dream all the love I have for my two girls I just I never thought. I know how I felt when my neices and nephews were born but this this doesn't even compare."

"It never does Sweetheart. You will always love her that much and worry."

"I'm never going to sleep again am I?"

"Probably not. "

"You'll be a good girl for daddy won't you?" The newborn just flexed her hand and Chris took that as a yes.

He relax into the bed.

He fell asleep after a few minutes Chris hand was still holding the little newborn who still feeding. And then when she was done she had moved herself off and then onto her mothers chest as if it was a pillow for sleep, just like her mother said she was like as an infant. The new grandmother took some pictures of the sweet new family sleeping these were the best moment the kindest moments in parent hood. The child was safe and the parents sleep soundly knowing thier child was safe. But she knew this would end soon and they never sleep peacefully again. Knowing parents never stop worring about thier children.

Point of View Change

I woke up and was calm for about half a second before I realized she was in my arms when I feel asleep- I was suddenly in a panic

"Chris chris where is she-"

"I brought her to the nursey she's fine." The ran his hand over my hair a few times and kissed my temple as I I sighed in relief

"God I got terrified thought maybe I dropped her."

"Shh go back to sleep. Hmmm" he caressed my face and gave me a long deep kiss.

"Chris don't start that thats how we got here in the first place." I joke

"Oh and it's getting us here again. Now sleep."

"Only if you do."

"I did."

"Ok only if you sleep more than 10 minutes."

"Even Steven baby you keep waking up she's fine I promise. I'll wake you at the first thing."

"I love you Chris."

"I love you to more then I can say. Rest you need it, you deserve it my love." He said giving me a soft kiss before I fell back asleep.

Check out my other Chris work here:

Thanks to @chrisevansdaughter for her encouragement

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[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

(ik mc doesn't have any memories of their family but lets just say they got their memories back and theyre visiting their family)

how would the m6 be like when they meet mc's parent(s)?

The Arcana HCs: M6 meeting the parent(s)

~ can I say how badly I've been wanting to write this? This is giving me so much serotonin, thank you anon! - brainrot ~

Julian

Outwardly an anxious mess, inwardly very excited. This man adores family

He chose a future with you, he knows your parent/s must mean a lot to you if you're introducing him to them, he wants them to like him!

He also keenly felt the loss of his own parents, and while he's not looking to replace them, he's not opposed becoming an honorary child of theirs (son-in-law, perhaps? Only if you're interested...)

Completely fumbles the introductions and definitely comes across as a little overeager to please

However, if the meeting lasts beyond ten minutes, he'll get over himself and his natural charm and charisma will shine

Nobody can tell stories like he can, and you're his favorite subject

Your parent/s will most likely have a good impression of him by the end of the first visit. He wears his heart on his sleeve and it's full of good intentions

If they dislike him, it will most likely be a reaction to his loud, dramatic tendencies coming across as all feeling and no commitment. Give it another visit or two and they'll quickly see otherwise

Is so quick to assimilate. He'll be calling them what you call them (e.g. "mom"/"dad") as soon as it's allowed

Asra

They're very honored to meet your parent/s, and they do want to be accepted, but they have such a naturally easygoing nature that you worry they're not taking it seriously

He's also got his own issues from being left behind as a small child. As much as he's been able to reconnect with his own parents, he still expects parental figures to vanish by default

Will casually stroll in and introduce themself like it's no big deal

Until he sees all the things you share in common. Mannerisms, phrases, facial expressions, physical features if you share DNA with them

Now they're SO invested. This is a treasure trove of information about you, they want to hear all the stories and see all the pictures

Conversation will mostly consist of him asking questions about your time with them and responding to their answers

The difficulty lies in how hard it is for him to talk about himself. Anytime the conversation becomes about him he redirects it

If your parent/s disapprove of them, it's for this reason. It's hard to connect with someone who refuses to open up

If Asra has cause to trust them, they will eventually connect. Either way, it's no secret how deeply dedicated they are to you

Nadia

Calm and collected on the outside

Stressed and panicking on the inside

She's planning to marry you. Your parent/s will be her parent/s. She does not want to mess this up

It doesn't help that the main things she's felt from her family have been judgment and mockery. She doesn't want version 2 of that

Discreetly does research on them. Hobbies, interests, careers, personality types, etc

Very stiff and formal at first. She doesn't want to show any weaknesses and will try to subtly flex her strengths

Thankfully, she's a brilliant conversationalist. Once she's spoken to them for a few minutes she'll be able to relax and interact freely with them

Also fascinated with all the things you have in common with them. Wants to hear about all the sides of you she hasn't seen yet

She has wonderful intuition and will easily steer away from awkward topics and focus on shared interests

If your parent/s disapprove of her, it's most likely from her aloofness in the first ten minutes. She's much more intimidating than she thinks she is

However, she is dedicated. If they mean a lot to you, she'll go out of her way to build one on one relationships with them and treat them with the respect she does her own

Muriel

This is going to require so many pep talks in advance, he is an anxious wreck

Does he love you? Yes. Does he value your connection with your parent/s? Very much. He knows how much he misses his own. Is he convinced that they're going to hate him? Unfortunately, also yes

Will ask you to warn them about him ahead of time to avoid as much misunderstanding as possible

Absolutely petrified when he meets them. He's only going to manage one word answers the whole first visit. He's putting all of his energy into not running away

Unless you have a parent with insanely strong nurturing instincts, it's going to be a while before they warm up to him. He already has quite the intimidating presence

He is also determined. He learned too late how much he meant to his parents and he wants you to have a happy story with them

So he will visit them with you again. And again. And again. As many times as it takes until they accept him

Because he's so determined to keep your connection with your parent/s, it's unlikely they'll have any long lasting issues with him

If anything, they'd be concerned at how isolated your life is in the woods. Tell them about how Vesuvia calls him a hero and they might change their mind(s)

Portia

You still have yours? Of course she wants to meet them!

Not that anxious about it. She can get along with almost anyone, and if they're important to you then they must be the best

It's still very important to her to make a good impression though, so she'll be full of questions about what they do and don't like

Also curious about who raised her favorite person. By the time she meets them she's so excited

Most likely insists on having them over for dinner and planning out all her best dishes

Will hug them when they arrive, no hesitation or awkwardness allowed. Immediately treats them like family and pumps them for stories of your childhood

What adventures did you have together? What kind of child were you? Do they have pictures? Show her, show her!

It is highly unlikely that your parent/s will find anything to dislike about her. They might be a little overwhelmed by how intensely involved she gets or how quickly she makes herself comfortable, but that's it

She's the type of person who can make anyone feel at home. When she tells them to visit whenever they want, she means it

Will consider them part of her social circle. If you're out shopping together she'll point things out that they might like

Lucio

Oh dear. He's never been very good with parents. Or authority figures for that matter

He killed his own dad, okay? Like he's grown a lot, and he definitely regrets it, but MC! Are you sure this is a good idea??

Both overconfident and nervous. It matters a lot that he make a good impression on them

But when he's honest with himself, he just knows your parents will think that you could do better

So he'll just have to show them all the reasons that he's the best!

The first meeting is a disaster. He's peacocking and boasting and nervously spewing his thoughts a mile a minute

In fact, he's such a mess that your parent/s believe you completely when you pin his behavior on his anxiety

The next time he meets them he's embarrassed himself enough to put on his best manners

It's such a positive contrast to the last encounter that they'll walk away from it saying that he's a surprisingly nice guy

He's so hyped from making a good first (second) impression as a changed man that he will do everything in his power to keep that reputation

"MC, would [parent] like this? Should I bring it to them next time? What should I wear? Do they have any favorite songs?"

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fluff #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[blues824]

Remember the izuru Kamukura and yoriichi tsugikuni request.

🖤Can I please request request a sequel to it where the hashiras we know meet the desented of the legendary pair.

❤️The day of the komado trail he introduces the new hashira the desented of the Kamukura and tsugikuni couple that have inheared the ability to use all breathing styles from the Kamukura reader.

🖤(you can choose what gender the descendant is or if they are twins or a single child they are relatives of muichiro how would he react to see family on his side alive. )

❤️Talking about Kamukura mc her getting intedused to the hashiras how would they react to one the legendary hashiras being alive but sadly she became a demon.

🖤She trained all her Offsprings and was the first demon to concure the sun and not needing to eat human and always helped the ubuyashiki clan to kill muzan .

❤️Her taking care of nezuko because she knows how it is to be a new demon and being not trusted by the demon slayers she even has to convince her husband she whoud not eat human.

🖤How would the hashiras react her asking them to show them everything they got during a training session and how would they react to her using every breathing style.

❤️How would the sword Smith react to her requesting a new sword because hers is over 500 years old and she can easily make herself a new one but she heard about his passion for swords and why not support him imagine his reaction to her legendary sword.

🖤Her sword becoming crimson like her late husband because she mainly usses sun breathing to honour him and Hotaru haganzuka seeing it and being happy he was able to see a crimson nichrin.

❤️She lived with lady tamayo giving her comfort because they have a lot in common and tamayo was especially grateful that she and her husband freed her from muzan.

🖤Her having a soft spot of muichiro and tanjiro because of their condition to her previous husband muichiro especially because she knows how it feels to forget everything about her past.

❤️And with tanjiro she knows how it feels that his sister became a demon and isn't trusted she went Through the same experience with her husband and the other demon slayers her seeing that tanjiro is abel to use sun breathing and training him.

🖤Imagen tanjiro wanting to give her husband's earrings back only for her not accept them saying her husband chose his family to carry on his earnings and saying that they are his and need to care on the family tradition to give them to his next of kin.

Part 1

I’m going to do this a bit differently.

All of the Hashira were gathered for the Kamado trial. They were aware of the young Demon Slayer named Tanjiro, and he seemed to be traveling with a demon. According to the rules of the Corps, that was not allowed. Thus, they wanted to kill Nezuko, as all demons should be. Also, they believed that both Giyu and Tanjiro should be punished for going against the rules. 

Right before they were about to, Ubuyashiki came out with a rather young-looking boy and girl. They seemed to be around Muichiro’s age, which made the young Pillar snap out of his in-the-clouds trance. They looked familiar, and they seemed to stare right at him. Then, the master claimed them to be the two Ultimate Hashira. Everyone let out a gasp and temporarily forgot about the Kamado siblings.

Of course, while this was a cause for celebration, there was the obvious still at hand. Ubuyashiki held his hand up to silence everyone, as he stated that the three rulebreakers would be spared. This obviously, as we all know, surprised everyone, and they promptly refused. However, the two new Hashira agreed to what the Master had said. 

“Before we proceed, I have someone I would like to introduce to you all. Please welcome Y/N Tsugikuni, wife of Yoriichi Tsugikuni, the former Ultimate Hashira, and now a demon. Also, she is one of my dearest friends.” At this introduction, you stepped out from the shadows and revealed yourself. A gasp resounded as the legend surfaced in everyone’s memories.

“How dare you all. I can’t believe you all have the audacity to call yourselves a Hashira. My descendants here are more deserving than the all of you combined. My late husband, the one who created Sun Breathing and thus all other forms, and I who have mastered each of them, are absolutely disgusted.

“Neither of you could see that this young demon slayer is trying to find a cure for demons so that he can aid his sister. Is that not a noble cause? And the Water Hashira was the only one who supported them. Would either of you kill me for being a demon? No. The young girl residing within the box has yet to consume a human, just like me. On multiple occasions, she has defended your comrades-in-arms, but you wouldn’t do the same thing for Giyu?

“As a matter of fact, if either of you would like to disobey Ubuyashiki, I am willing to fight in place of Nezuko. Sanemi, you seemed to be willing to challenge your master’s word, so I would like you to fight me. If you win, then the Kamados as well as Giyu shall be punished. If I win, then they shall be spared and the lot of you will be punished for disobedience.”

You turned to see if it was okay with Kagaya, and he made no move to stop the battle from happening. The Wind Hashira took his place, and put his hand on the tsuka of his blade and got in a ready stance. You did the same, and the others made sure that there was enough space. Giyu picked up Tanjiro and backed up a few feet.

Needless to say, you won using his ‘own’ Wind Breathing. He did not manage to land a single hit on you. The second he saw that you drew your blade way before him, he knew that he was done for. It seemed like the other Hashira knew as well, and they flinched upon seeing their fellow Pillar lying on the floor with the wind knocked out of him. Literally, he was wheezing and trying to catch his breath.

“I guess you all have your answer,” you stated. You didn’t even break a sweat.

Shinobu, Muichiro, Mitsuri, Obanai, Gyomei, Tengen, Rengoku, and Sanemi (mans was struggling) watched as you walked over to Giyu and Tanjiro to make sure that they were alright. You then gently opened the box that the younger girl was in and held your hand out gently to Nezuko. Both she and Tanjiro recognized your smell, but the former was the first to hug you. The sudden display of affection was a surprising one, and the atmosphere was suspenseful.

Then, a smile finally made its way onto your face. You realized that this was one of the few times where you had smiled after your husband’s death. Your children, long gone by now, had never gotten to know your smile. You then extended your arm out to Tanjiro and he gladly accepted it. They knew your name, and they knew your legend. 

Afterwards, the eldest Kamado sibling asked the question: did you know anything about the Hinokami Kagura, or anything about Fire Breathing? You nodded your head, and promised that you would teach him both Fire Breathing and Sun Breathing. You saw that he was more than ready, and you would partner with Rengoku in his training, as knowing Flame Breathing would be important as well. You also promised the young boy that you would help Nezuko with the muzzle situation and control her Blood Demon Art.

None of the Hashira were punished for their disobedience. Instead, you used a tactic that you used for the generations after you within your family: threats. Sometimes you would deliver, as it was not easy to learn how to become the Ultimate Demon Slayer, but you knew that your family could handle it. That’s why you looked at Muichiro and said that you would be willing to train him as well, since he is eligible for the abilities within your family as well. You made a promise to Ubuyashiki that his children that were being taken under his wing would be okay.

You personally thanked Giyu for looking after the siblings like he did, and he had to admit that being thanked by the former Ultimate Hashira felt nice. He tried to bow, but you instead pulled him into a hug. Tanjiro and Nezuko joined the group hug, also thanking him for what he has done for them, and the Water Hashira could not mentally process the hug. Oh no! Giyu! He’s broken!

Once you had brought both Kamado siblings and the Mist Hashira back to your estate, they noticed how outside-focused it was. You stated that you preferred a low-key lifestyle, as you were hunted by demons as a ‘traitor’. Lady Tamayo was glad to reunite with Tanjiro and Nezuko, and you had to explain that both her and Yushiro were friends and not foe. They were temporarily staying with you until they had constructed a place that could be easily concealed from Muzan and his Uppermoons. 

The first order of business was ordering a new sword from your old friend, Hotaru Haganezuka. Tanjiro let out a scream as he saw the swordsmith making his way to the estate, and you knew why. You stated that your sword was something that chooses you, rather than you it. Thus, every time he broke his blade, it was severing connection after connection.

But, as the swordsmith was about to kill the aforementioned slayer, you had asked him if he would be interested in making you a sword, as yours had collected a bit of rust. The man let out an almost girlish squeal, as it wasn’t everyday that the former Ultimate Hashira asked you to personally make your sword. You even said that you were willing to pay, but he tried to refuse. Unfortunately, once he got back to his forgery, he saw a pile of gold with a note saying that it was from you, and he let out an exasperated sigh before he got to work.

When you had gotten your sword, you gripped your new blade and it had turned red. Haganezuka was absolutely delighted, and you said that it was similar to your late husband’s sword. You turned to see that both Tanjiro and Muichiro were looking at you as you said it. You knew that you would have to tell them about him.

It was over dinner that you had prepared. You stated that you were, in fact, related to Muichiro, and were one of his ancestors that obviously wasn’t dead. You also said that your husband was acquainted with Sumiyoshi Kamado, and had given him his earrings. The same earrings that the present eldest Kamado son was wearing. He felt so bad, and he tried giving them back to you, but you refused. 

You said, “It was my husband’s wish for the Kamado family to receive them. Thus, I will respect his wish.”

Training eventually began, and both Tanjiro and Muichiro were struggling. You had said that training was completed when Tanjiro managed to land a hit on you and when Muichiro would not master each breathing style but be able to. Then his training would be from your direct descendants, as it would be too dangerous to keep training for too long. You did want to honor your promise to Ubuyashiki after all.

Tanjiro eventually began wondering if it was even possible to land a hit. He expressed his doubts, and you bluntly stated that Muzan was able to defeat you more than 500 years ago, and if he could do it but he couldn’t, then there would be no hope to turn Nezuko back into a human. You even showed him the scars you had received from that battle. You then decided that this was now or never, and you challenged him to a fight. It would only stop when he landed a hit, otherwise he would keep fighting.

Even though it was incredibly hard and lasted a few days, he finally managed to knick your arm with his nichirin sword. Lady Tamayo made sure to quickly heal it, and you had a smile on your face. You pulled the boy into a hug, but it was a very quick one. You then said that Nezuko’s training would start and he needed to train against Muichiro now.

Speaking of, your relationship with Muichiro was very weird at first. Up until this point, he thought his whole family was dead. Come to find out, you were alive and looking over him and the rest of your descendents. You were able to read him very quickly as well, and you could see the anger surging within him from losing his twin brother. You knew what you had to do, so you just took him on a walk throughout the town to talk.

You could see that his interactions with Tanjiro were helping him get his memories back, and he brought this up to you. A sigh escaped from your lips as you sat down with him once you had gotten back to your estate. You pulled back your hair to show him the scar on your head, and you stated that, when you were younger, you went through a series of medical procedures that were meant to create the Ultimate Human Being. You lost your memories, and your husband helped you in getting them back.

Now that he knew he was exactly like how you were, the two of you grew closer. But, your training still remained relentless. You did not let up at all, and his training was more severe than Tanjiro’s. You knew what he was capable of, and when he got the memory of losing his brother, you made him channel that anger into learning the beginning stages of each Breathing Style. You went through each element: Fire, Earth, Water, and Air, as well as Sun. Yes, you decided that it needed to be passed down to him as well, since he was born into the family where it originated.

As for Nezuko, she looked at you like a daughter would to her mother. You would tell her that the muzzle did help, but she needed to learn control. So, you would ditch your sword and just use a replica of Muzan’s Blood Demon Art. That’s the thing: you couldn’t replicate his to a perfect T. He was still stronger than you, and you knew that you were preparing these three as well as the other Hashira, Zenitsu, and Inosuke to be ready and prepared.

Your training for the young girl was to have her fight with her muzzle off. You wanted her to go into town with her muzzle off. You wanted her to go through daily life with her muzzle off. This would teach her self-control, something she would need if/when she went up against an Uppermoon or even the Rip-Off Michael Jackson himself.

It was a bit concerning, how harsh you were on her. But, you knew that her immortal body could handle it. There were broken bones, twisted joints, dislocations, lacerations, etc. Tanjiro didn’t like to see his younger sister get hurt, but this was also a part of his training as well. You had said that while it seems inhumane, Nezuko could regenerate without assistance. You couldn’t have either getting distracted when their sibling was injured in battle.

Eventually, you had gained three new scars: one from each of them. You told them that you were so proud of how they grew, and you were delighted to hear Nezuko’s voice for the first time. You looked into the Kamados’ eyes and said that their mother, father, and siblings would be so proud at how they endured through this. You then turned to Muichiro and told him that his brother would be happy at how far he has come with his memory recovery and also him actively learning each and every Breathing Technique.

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kny yoriichi x reader #kny yoriichi #kny #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #yoriichi #yoriichi x reader #yoriichi tsugikuni #yoriichi tsugikuni x reader

[whetstonefires]

The thing about the Shazam! (Captain Marvel but they don't have the rights to call him that) movie is that overall it's pretty good? Even if I question the pacing choices made in terms of screentime breakdown for '14yo boys making mortifying life choices and humorously failing judgment calls' vs. 'character development wrt to literally anything else about this fairly large cast.'

It's hokey; it should be. It's got some decent themes and fun character bits and set up good solid hero/villain parallels to subvert.

But.

But it massively clotheslined itself with a major storytelling fuckup connected to the opening hook mystery, whose resolution is meant to be the emotional inflection point of the whole film.

Because the thing is, this movie chose to be slightly interesting in how it approached its 'family' themes. In a variation on 'family of choice' (since your foster family are in fact assigned by the government and Billy not having a choice about living with them only about trusting them is a major story element) it went for the more nuanced and kind of interestingly grimy take that the people who are actually in your life giving a shit about you matter, if you let them, and that you need to stop giving the people who failed to love you power over your happiness.

Which is not a bad premise at all! As messages for a movie about a kid being sent to a group home go, that's the most upbeat you could possibly get and still be tied to reality.

The Vasquez couple are written and played well in these terms too because they really, genuinely care, and are making so much effort, but as system graduates themselves they never had competent parenting modeled for them and god does it show.

And the mental health problems of the kids who got enough characterization to have them were similarly...realistic in a best-case-scenario sort of way.

But! Still with the but! Even though they pulled off a lot of this fairly touchy premise rather well, there's a crack in the foundation that makes the whole movie kind of collapse on a thematic level.

Because the movie (following the prologue introducing the villain's backstory) opens with a juicy emotional hook where small Billy is separated from his mother at a Christmas fair and never sees her again.

Cut to some years later, establishing status quo scene, he's a Troubled Youth rebelling against the system in an endless quest to find his mother and go home. He is committing minor felonies to get access to police information about women surnamed Batson so he can go to their houses because eventually one of them has to be his mom.

His case worker after he's picked up again refers to his mother as 'someone who clearly didn't want you,' which Billy rejects as bullshit, and he's valid! Because that is not what you say when you have actual information. That's a surmise. That's a sentence that says Child Protective Services and the police couldn't find her either.

Especially because you don't immediately chuck a kid into foster care because he's found unattended. Maybe you do that later, after a lengthy period of oversight, depending on his mom's reaction to having him returned and her race and socioeconomic status and apparent mental health and so forth. But you don't just not contact her, and you definitely don't refuse to tell the kid about the result once you have.

The only normal situation where an accessible record exists of a kid's original parentage but it's denied to the kid is in sealed adoptions, which are a formal procedure that clearly didn't happen here. There is every indication in this opening sequence that his mom was never found.

Which means she's a missing person. Either because they located the correct Billy Batson and his adult never came back to their house (which would suggest foul play or some other drama) or because despite being old enough to be in school and knowing his own name, no one could find evidence that Billy existed prior to turning up at that street carnival.

Which would constitute a very mysterious situation! What is he, from a cult? Another dimension? Did someone (in the social worker's proposed scenario, Billy's mom) erase all record of her kid somehow? Was magic involved?

So: the way we're introduced to this scenario, there's a legitimate weird mystery here that none of the adults in Billy's life care enough about to do anything but tell him to write it off, the way they have. That his missing person clearly did it on purpose.

Billy's being ridiculous because if what he's trying would work then he wouldn't need to do it; his social worker could have arranged a meeting years ago. So it's a useless self-destructive behavior he needs to let go. But he's valid, in that he's being very obviously failed by the system and is doing the only thing he can think of to try to address his situation for himself.

And then! The Big Reveal is that his mom has been living under her maiden name in the same city as him this whole time.

Which the Gamer Kid Who Turns Out In This Scene To Be A Hacker (he's about 10) learned by. Breaking into a federal database.

So he goes to her house and it turns out. She'd been a teen mother and her babydaddy walked out after marrying her, and her parents cut her off, and she was depressed and felt like a bad mother so. When she saw the cops had her kid, she just walked away. And she wants to believe he's been happy and better off without her.

And the emotional arc of the film rests on how Billy comes to terms with this. With the fact that his past will never take him back and he has to learn to find joy in himself and his present situation and his future.

Having let go of that idea, he's able to emotionally commit to his gaggle of foster siblings and realize that unlike the villain, who was obsessed with punishing the people who never loved or accepted him, or the wizard who was focused on finding The Perfectly Worthy Champion, what you needed to be good and not lost was to be part of a mutually supportive group, like the wizard Shazam was before he and his siblings were betrayed. And then they can be a superhero team, woo!

And that part is actually depicted fairly well, all things considered!

But the problem is that the audience, to vibe with this properly, has to roll with the revelation that Billy was wrong to cling to the mystery of his vanished, beloved mother and the fantasy of going home again.

We have to be willing to participate in the idea that the Resistant Child Subjected To Foster Care was in the wrong.

And he wasn't! He wasn't wrong! His understanding of the situation was flawed but it should not have been flawed in this manner.

Because this scenario as it's depicted doesn't make any sense. The cops do not just keep your kid without following up if you fail to collect him from the baggage claim. CPS does not fail to provide a kid with the readily available evidence that he's been voluntarily surrendered to them, when he keeps running off trying to go home.

Why would they do that, after all? Billy's misbehavior was a huge hassle for them. They gained nothing by denying him access to his mother and the information about her that was, you recall, sitting totally available in a government database that could be hacked by a random 10 year old asian-american orphan. They just...made their own lives harder for no reason, while extending the suffering of a child in their care.

If the cops tried to return him back when and she said 'no i left him with you on purpose please keep him' maybe she gets prosecuted for child abandonment and maybe not, but either way, billy would know about it.

But if the screenwriters had made it clear early on that this information had been offered to him and he'd chosen not to believe it, they couldn't get a proper Reveal at the end because it would just be Billy being unable to continue pretending something the audience had known not to believe all along.

And they couldn't cram a good reason for the scenario they'd set up into the space they'd accorded it.

So they were just like, it's fine, if we cram enough cliches into this space people will react to the familiarity and go 'ah yes i know this one' and go along with it, and not notice that this isn't an actual coherent reply to the question that was set up an hour ago and therefore is emotionally unsatisfying somehow.

Anyway this is an important storytelling guideline: if you put in a mystery to control either the actual plot or, even worse, the emotional storyline, that mystery and its resolution have to make internal sense.

If you pull the Real Situation out of your ass, and it's not a matter of red herrings or That One Fact you didn't have that makes all the rest fit together differently, but in fact no one involved could have figured this out and especially if the people who did say this in the first place had no good basis for it, but still get narratively awarded the Correct trophy in a way that contributes to the thematic climax so the audience has to care. Then that will not get good results. It will make it hard to deliver on your intended themes.

Some people will not notice or care! This is true! But a lot of people will, and you'll get enough of a better punch even with the other folks, if the setup and denouement fit together properly and don't require reaching, to matter.

And when people do notice at all, rather than their naturally flowing along with the climax you're steering toward and experiencing A Story, there will be a tendency to notice you standing there placing roadsigns toward the Intended Emotional Response, and call you a hack.

People call out plotholes way too vigorously sometimes, so I want to be clear: it's not the lack of supporting logic I mind. It's that the active presence of illogic, of what's presented as a chain but is broken along its length, means the central character arc intersects with the core theme in a noticeably forced way. Which is bad craftsmanship on a meaningful level.

There is a loss of cohesion where you cannot satisfactorily resolve how the scenario we were initially shown came to be superimposed over the revealed truth, because that relationship between elements is very important to making a 'revelation' storyline land, you know?

In this case it's particularly vexing to me because the last-minute asspull and its thematic weight reaches back around and at the last minute moves the whole movie thematically to the other side of the line wrt whether it's approaching Billy, our protagonist, as a subject with whom we're supposed to identify or an object whom we're supposed to observe.

It makes all the high-school-freshman-posing-as-adult gags retroactively less funny because we were now more explicitly laughing at him, and takes a lot of the depth out of the emotionally sincere moments.

Up to that point I had really appreciated how, despite wavering that way, Shazam! hadn't actually fallen to the MCU Spiderman temptation to dehumanize its protagonist. Which seems to arise out of this weird tendency I've noticed to assume the natural sentiment of adults toward adolescents is bemused contempt, and that therefore if they ask their audience of paying grownups to empathize too closely with a teen hero instead of setting him and his Immaturity up as a clown for our amusement, they'll get themselves banished to the Children's Fiction ghetto.

And, of course, if they'd been fully committed to one side or the other of 'Billy is a protagonist the viewer relates to closely' or 'Billy is a protagonist the viewer relates to distantly,' they wouldn't have gotten snarled up about how much information to hand over when.

Committing to either option (giving us only as much information as Billy had and constructing a story that was solid from a being-Billy angle or giving us more information than Billy and operating confidently in the realm of dramatic irony) could have worked quite well. But because of the mixed signals and unstable narrative distance, they wound up with a distinctly weakened finale.

#hoc est meum #in real life things happen that you have no good reason to expect all the time #but in real life we know they happened for some kind of reason as in #causality exists and even in situations where we can't dig into the chain #we have cause to understand that it's there #in fiction they happened because they'd be convenient #so the rules of what information can be available and how you frame new information being revealed exist #to keep the audience from feeling jerked around #you have to earn people's trust and if you lose it #that limits the kind of results you can get #when writing fiction one of your tools is the reader's mind #if you give them reason not to allow you free use of it your composition contracts #screenwriting #shazam #and like in this case there's a profound betrayal of the protagonist and thus of the audience who connected with him wrapped up in it