#Ice grandmama

[wolfofwinchester]

❛ if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode. ❜ (O!Ciel!)

&. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬. // accepting!

”Oh sweet son, come here.“ The grandmother tittered, folding hershawl over the boy's head with a hug around the crown, temporarily blinding him. A curse! A curse laid upon her boy! A curse, and one that every Head of the family was tragically familiar with more than they could care to share. Well, perhaps with exception for that one great-great-great-great grandfather of the family who is told be an absolute steam engine of a man, but he is neither here nor there nor anywhere anymore. Everyone suffered, and continues to suffer, and that suffering is about to blow the nob off of the youngest in the family.

”I know that vulture of a butler said it was unwise for you to have a snack, but how about we quiet our way down to the kitchen anyhow, mm? I know just the cure for a noggin on the verge of poppin'.“

[addamned]

td

cassandra / all. cassandra / ic. cassandra / study. cassandra / starters. cassandra / face. cassandra / aesthetic. cassandra / threads. cassandra / ship insp. cassandra / headcanons. cassandra / musings.

grandmama / all. grandmama / ic. grandmama / study. grandmama / starters. grandmama / face. grandmama / aesthetic. grandmama / threads. grandmama / ship insp. grandmama / headcanons. grandmama / musings.

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.13

Summary: Wednesday has to admit, she had never anticipated her family taking to you in such a way. Nor did she expect everything else she witnessed during your visit. Maybe, just maybe, she does have a feeling or two for you.

Word Count: 7.1k Warnings: swearing, mentions of past abuse Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Everyone But Her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @n0p35 @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @asters-abditory @alexkolax @thenextdawn-backup @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets

Wednesday Addams was not jealous. She had brought you into her home, had invited you to meet her family, had sacrificed most of her free time to be with you. And you went and spent time with her family instead, whether playing poker with Grandmama, or talking with Pugsley, or sneaking off with her mother and father. Every opportunity you got to spend time with them was taken in an instant.

But she wasn’t jealous.

She didn’t feel anything, really.

Not a single thing as she watched her father throw the sword at you and attack. It was a right of passage, everyone in the Addams family knew how to defend themself, she knew that. But watching you nearly drop it, barely moving in time to stop her father’s foil from piercing your heart? Her fingers shook as she turned the page in her book, nearly blinking at the sudden ring of steel as you deflected it. When he swept your legs and you fell so hard Wednesday felt the couch shake from the impact.

Later, you showed her the large bump on the back of your head and she begrudgingly held the ice pack to your head, but she felt nothing.

She felt nothing when she walked into the room and saw you sizing up Lurch. He had been warned that you were out for victory, so he paid you no mind. But you got up slowly and stalked him, staying out of his sight until you were close enough to exact your plan. Her heart raced as you pulled your fist back and she rushed to stop you, ignoring how soft your skin was. She watched your lips move as you talked but she didn’t hear a word.

When she caught you before another fight and you didn’t remove your fist from her hand, she felt nothing.

She felt nothing when Officer Vinny showed up at their door asking for you. In a surprise twist of fate, she didn’t see red when he talked to you, only an uneasiness in her stomach that made her want to curl up into a ball. But that uneasiness turned bearable, enjoyable even when he explained what you had been accused of, and she saw the remnants of black eyeshadow on your skin. She had thought you just weren’t sleeping well. No, she was wrong, you had ferociously defended her brother, and for what? No promise of any reward or retribution.

And when Pugsley couldn’t stop talking to you as they cleaned you up and you gave him the most loving smile she had ever seen, she felt nothing.

But she did feel something as was laying on her bed on the fourth night, not quite seething but something else. You had abandoned her throughout the day and no one would tell her where you had gone. They hadn’t even let her know if you were still in the house or not. In fact, she didn’t even see evidence of your existence until dinner when you sat down beside her as if you hadn’t vanished for the entire day.

It was impossible to sleep after she had left you at the table. You had tried to talk to her, she would give you credit for that, but not once had you attempted to explain your absence. It had made her feel… pity. That’s what it was. Pity for herself for not having you near her, talking with her, just being with her. 

She had felt it on occasion at Nevermore, usually when you were stuck in detention all weekend, but this felt different. You were practically within arm’s reach, she just couldn’t find you. It was the first time she had ever felt alone in her own home. And she hated you for it.

Okay, maybe she was seething. Just a little bit.

Three knocks on her door brought her out of the anger she was working herself into. She knew of only one person who knocked three times in quick succession, and she wasn’t in the mood for the visit. But then the door opened with a small groan, and shuffling feet.

“Wednesday?” You whispered. “Are you awake?”

Don’t answer, her mind told her. No, she was still mad at you. You had made her feel so many negative emotions in her own home. This was supposed to be her space to be herself, to do as she wished with no judgment. Then you had to come in and throw everything around as if you owned the place. Your absence made her feel alone.

It was exactly why she answered you.

“Yes,” she said, just as quiet.

She kept her eyes glued to the ceiling but listened with bated breath as you shut the door and shuffled across the room. Something fell to the floor and you let out a whispered “fuck” before she could hear you trying to fix whatever had broken. It was almost humorous when, after a few minutes of fumbling around, she heard a frustrated groan before pieces were set back down and you shuffled around some more.

“Move over.” You were standing at the edge of the bed in your big shirt and pyjama pants, and Wednesday couldn’t help herself.

You crawled into the bed as she moved over, and the bed dipped underneath you. It felt like ages as you shifted around, twisting and turning, trying to get into any sort of comfortable position. If you had been anyone else, she would have instantly pushed you out. But when she felt your fingers graze her arm as you finally settled, her breath caught in her throat and she tensed even more than usual.

You were on your side. You were on your side and your hands were tucked under your jaw and you were looking at her. Wednesday could feel your eyes staring holes into the side of her head and she couldn’t properly catch her breath. The last time you had been this close was after she had cleaned your hands. But this? There was no barrier, you were completely, entirely attentive.

It was too much.

“Why are you looking at me?” Wednesday asked with a huff.

“I’m hoping you’ll spontaneously combust,” you shot back. “You’re so- so- so condemnatory.”

“Impressive,” she said, finally shifting to lay on her own side to look at you. You looked- stop it. “That’s a big word for you.” She could hear your feathers ruffle behind you. “Incorrect, but impressive.”

“You’re insufferable,” you argued. The furrow in your brows did nothing to erase the fact that Wednesday could see your feathers fluffing up. Your frustration, it seemed, was betrayed by your body.

“Well if that’s how you feel, then leave,” she said.

The way your face instantly relaxed would have been comical if her heart hadn’t started to race at the sight of you. You, in your too-big shirt that swallowed even you up. You, with the bright eyes that shone even in the dark of the room. You, who had somehow, at some point, moved closer until she could practically feel the warmth of your skin.

You, who was looking at her as if you were afraid to lose her.

“I don’t want to leave.” Your voice was too soft, and you were too close, and Wednesday wanted to simultaneously pull you closer and push you away.

“Why not?” She asked. Your eyes showed vulnerability, but they quickly relaxed and you rolled your eyes and turned your head to look at the door.

“I think your house is haunted,” you said as if you hadn’t just given her the most horrifically attractive look. Attractive? “Sounds like a couple of demons.”

“That’s just my parents,” Wednesday said, ignoring her embarrassing thoughts about your physical appearance. “You get used to it.”

“Your what?” You asked incredulously. “It doesn’t, like, gross you out?”

“Why would it?”

“Well…” you let out a huff. “I don’t know, they’re just… painfully open about it.”

“Hence my lack of desire for physical touch,” Wednesday said simply.

She regretted it instantly when your head turned back to her with a look that she couldn’t decipher. But she could decipher the way you eyed the space between you both and discreetly pulled back until you were hanging over the edge of the bed. And that increased distance was almost… unbearable.

She didn’t mean it.

You both laid there in silence, your eyes no longer on hers but instead on the insurmountable space between you both. All the while Wednesday couldn’t stop looking at you. The bags under your eyes - genuine ones this time - were getting larger. Were you sleeping? Were you comfortable in your room? Now that you were in her room, she couldn’t help but wonder if you were truly happy in her home or not.

She wanted to reach out and hold your hand. It was becoming a constant desire, she realised, and she wasn’t entirely disgusted with the idea. Not in the privacy of her own bedroom where it was only you and her. The world could just melt away and she wouldn’t notice because she was so completely focused on you.

“I should go,” you said after far too long.

And when you moved to get up, the intolerable feeling of anxiety started gnawing at her once again. Your hand pressed against the mattress to push yourself up, and in a moment of sheer panic, Wednesday reached out and grabbed it. Your eyes flickered back and forth from your joined hands to her face.

“You can stay.”

She couldn’t, she wouldn’t, admit that the thought of you leaving her alone, especially after abandoning her all day, was enough to keep her from sleeping. Never in her life had she let someone preoccupy her mind to the point she was incapable of falling asleep. But you seemed to make her experience a lot of new things.

“Okay,” you said softly. The bed shifted and creaked once again as you settled back down, moving just close enough so you weren’t hanging off the side as you had been.

“Don’t touch me while I’m trying to fall asleep,” she said harshly as she turned onto her back once again.

“Whatever you say, Wednesday,” you chuckled lightly.

Neither one of you brought up the fact that she was still holding your hand.

—---

Everyone had already started to arrive before you were even finished getting ready. Wednesday had eagerly offered to find you and help you get ready, but her father had quickly ushered her back to the ballroom. “I’ve got it,” he had said to a very disgruntled Wednesday.

Which was precisely how Wednesday found herself; dancing with relatives as she waited impatiently for you to arrive.

It was a far more enjoyable evening than the Rave’N, she wouldn’t dare deny it. At least at her own home there were no expectations. Not that she followed them anyway, but it was a little exhausting to subvert everyone’s expectations all the time. Here, she could do whatever she wanted with no consequences because everyone here was an Addams.

Except for you.

“Waiting for someone?”

Wednesday didn’t bother turning her head, but she did smile to herself when Uncle Fester grabbed her hands and pulled her into a dance. It had been a while since he had last been at the house. She always enjoyed - truly enjoyed - seeing him.

“A friend,” she answered.

“A special friend?” He asked again as he spun her around without a care in the world.

“Certainly no-”

Wednesday froze mid-dip when, even upside down, she saw you finally walking into the room with her father. He was wearing his usual eccentric outfit, but you. Oh, you. Restless hands tugged at the bottom of a familiar Victorian tuxedo that was a little too short. Your bowtie was snug and you looked-

“-What a looker,” Uncle Fester said as he pulled her back up. “You certainly know how to pick ‘em.”

“Don’t I?” She said breathlessly.

Around anyone else, she never would have admitted such a thing, wouldn’t have even hinted at it. But around Uncle Fester, she could be a little more open. He would never compare her to her parents, it was completely, entirely her. So when she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her skull as she walked toward you, she knew it was out of love, not out of comparison or judgment.

“The tux looks nice,” Wednesday said as she finally approached you. The relieved smile you gave her gave her those old, familiar spiders in her stomach once again.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “Your dad said it belonged to your- your Uncle? Uh, Uncle KnickKnack?” You said with so much uncertainty that Wednesday almost wanted to laugh.

“Yes, I remember,” Wednesday said as she reached forward to straighten your bowtie. You stiffened under her fingers. “He was wearing this when he died.”

“He what!?” You sputtered, looking at her with wide eyes. “I’m wearing a dead man’s suit!?”

“Calm down,” she shook her head, “it’s not like he needs it.”

“What if he comes back to haunt me?” You asked.

“What is your obsession with being haunted?”

“If anyone is gonna haunt me, it’s your family,” you scoffed, finally holding your arm out for Wednesday to take. “And the only Addams I want haunting me is you.”

Oh.

“If you want one of us, you get all of us,” Wednesday said instead. It was a weird way for her to say I want you haunting me too. Hopefully you received the message loud and clear. “Come on. We have some mingling to do.”

“Yes ma’am,” you answered dutifully with a slight dip of your head and an irksome, crooked smile

Wednesday had to admit, you did well. Meeting everyone, remembering names, remembering to compliment them as only an Addams would. Surprisingly, you got along well with cousin Itt and Margaret. Well, more so Margaret, she was an Addams by marriage instead of blood, much like yo-

-Wednesday went rigid at how effortlessly the thought had entered her mind.

“Give me a sec, I see Pugs,” you whispered into her ear as if you hadn’t noticed her going stiff.

You carefully pulled your arm away and gave her a smile before walking off to where Pugsley and Thing were standing. All the while, Wednesday couldn’t get her mind back in check. Something had betrayed her, you were not an Addams, by blood nor marriage. Why had that thought even occurred to her? And why had it occurred so effortlessly?

Margaret was talking to her, she was aware of that, but she couldn’t stop herself from watching you with Pugsley, Thing, and now Uncle Fester. Your hands gestured wildly and you moved around as Thing crawled over your shoulders and across your back. It seemed like you were arguing, but very quickly Uncle Fester and Thing started dragging you into a closet.

Her foot tapped the floor as she waited, eyes glued to the closet door. What were they doing to you in there? Why had they taken you in there in the first place? She turned to Pugsley who just shot back a half-apologetic smile and a shrug of his shoulders. Traitor.

The closet door flew open as you were practically shoved out, your wings flapping enough to keep you up on your feet. Thing was on your shoulder with a pair of scissors while Uncle Fester was still messing with the back of your tuxedo. Whatever he was doing had your wings fluffing up and shaking. The wide-eyed look on your face turned into a scowl, and you reached back and slapped his hand away, giving him a stern finger in his face. With what little sense he had left, Thing quickly jumped ship and went to Uncle Fester.

Gods, Wednesday wished she could have heard what you said to them.

But as you walked back to where Wednesday was standing, she was suddenly entranced. Yes, you had looked rather stunning in the ancient tuxedo to begin with, but with your wings out, curled protectively around your shoulders? It was almost angelic. She had never thought she would find such a thing beautiful.

There was always an exception, she supposed.

“There’s about to be two less Addamses in the world,” you grumbled as your fingers fussed with the hem of the tux.

“Spin,” Wednesday demanded. You rolled your eyes, but did as she asked.

There, on the back of the tux, were two very large, very poorly cut holes where your wings were now sprouting. If she looked close enough, she could almost see the skin underneath; it almost looked raw, like a scar that hadn’t fully healed. You completed the spin before she could get a proper look.

“Ruined a dead man’s tux,” you said with an uptick of your lips. “He’s haunting me for sure now.”

“He means well,” Wednesday said when she noticed the thumbs up and wink Uncle Fester sent her way. It brought the smallest amount of heat to her cheeks.

“If he comes near me with scissors again, I’m stabbing him,” you said as you finally straightened up once again. With your wings you looked… regal.

“I’m sure he-”

“-May I have this dance?” Uncle Fester asked, holding his hand out for Wednesday to take.

“She would love to,” you answered for her. Without an ounce of hesitation, you put Wednesday’s hand in Uncle Fester’s and stepped back until he was pulling her to the center of the room.

Wednesday did her best to keep track of you as Uncle Fester twirled her around, carrying her across the entire ballroom. For a moment she lost you, and an unusual, unnamed feeling settled in the back of her throat. It was worse than swallowing molten lead. Only when she saw you across the room, dancing and laughing with Pugsley, did it dissipate just enough to ease the nausea growing in her stomach.

Before the song officially ended, you disappeared once again and that heaviness made a reappearance. Her head twisted this way and that, desperately searching for you. Uncle Fester was smiling down at her in a way that made her uncomfortable. Why would he look at her like that? He only ever did that when he was scheming.

Three taps on her shoulder.

Uncle Fester spun her, letting go mid-spin and his hand was quickly replaced with someone else’s. She was pulled close and when she looked up, she saw you looking down at her. Your happy-go-lucky smile was replaced by something else, something more uncertain. The hand on her waist was warm; she always forgot how warm you were.

“What are you doing?” Wednesday asked as a waltz started up.

“Just shut up,” you said not unkindly with a nervous smile, “I have to concentrate.”

She opened her mouth to argue - you were giving her the perfect opportunity - but was quickly silenced when you started leading her around the room. And you were doing well. The look of pure concentration on your face was comical, but she was, admittedly, far more impressed with your improvement.

It was still too early for her to believe you were good at dancing; she couldn’t give you a big head. But you were leading her around the room expertly, pulling her close, spinning and dipping as the music commanded. There was once or twice you tripped over your own feet, but you recovered quickly and continued as if it had never happened.

You picked her up only once, your hands on her hips and for a moment, just a moment, she felt something settle in her stomach. Something different but good. Definitely good. She desperately hoped you couldn’t feel the slightest shiver run down her spine.

And then, over the top of your head, she saw her father. The weirdest look was on his face, it was almost a smile but not quite. His eyes were locked with hers and the cigar stuck out of the side of his mouth and he looked… proud, her mind filled in. He looked proud.

The dance finished with you pulling her flush against you, and if she focused hard enough, she could feel your heart racing in your chest. Your hand had moved from her waist to the small of her back and you were looking at her. Only at her. Didn’t you know others were watching?

Another song started up, and Wednesday half expected you to pull away - there was no way you had also learned to tango - but you stayed there. She could feel the small push on her back, holding her close. That suspiciously good feeling in her stomach returned along with a heat in her chest.

She should have felt disgusted by it. By the fact that you still hadn’t moved, and you were looking at her with a dumb, awestruck face, and everyone was still watching you. It should have been disgusting and nauseating and torturous in the worst way.

But it didn’t. And for the first time in her life, she didn’t want to feel disgusted by it.

“Come on,” Wednesday said as the music continued to blast throughout the ballroom.

The moment you removed your hands, she grabbed one and started pulling you through the crowd. In her peripheral, Uncle Fester and Pugsley were watching her with embarrassingly large smiles. If she wasn’t so intent on dragging you away, she would have made a side-trip to kill them.

They should be happy you were there.

You didn’t say anything to her as she took you outside into the cold air. The very tips of your feathers shook in the wind and pulled closer to your body. She felt a single squeeze to her hand while you followed dutifully behind. Not once did you question why you were in the Addams cemetery.

Maybe you were more of an Addams than she was willing to admit.

“Are you gonna kill me out here?” You asked once Wednesday let go of your hand in the mausoleum. “Because your mom said my dancing wasn’t that bad.”

Her body turned to face you but she stayed just far enough away to be out of touch. It was an internal battle with her heart and her mind, and now she was feeling the usual nausea from such emotions. Her mind was telling her not to do it, not to say what she was getting so desperate to say. What if you weren’t the same, and she was displaying her weakness only to have you throw it back like a spear to the chest?

But what if you felt the same? What if you understood and agreed? All the little glances, linking pinkies, setting things up that she would enjoy. The brushes of your hand against hers, the ceaseless teasing, the kindness you had shown to Eugene simply because she had asked it of you. Did you feel the same? Did it feel like there was a vice grip around your throat and needles continuously stabbing through your heart? Was something always trying to claw its way up her throat to say everything you were forcing down?

“Are you okay?” Your wings twitched behind you. “You look like you’re hurting.”

Just say it. Don’t be a coward and just say it.

“I’m fine,” Wednesday said as she took a single step closer to you. “I just… need to admit something.”

“You are gonna kill me,” you said seriously, but Wednesday could see the crinkle of your eyes as you forced down a smile.

An Addams is never afraid.

“I have feelings for you.” The words felt like hot lead burning down her throat. She took another step closer; now she could see the goosebumps on your neck.

“You- you do?” Your feathers fluffed up as you stumbled over the simple word.

“Yes,” Wednesday said, far softer this time.

“What- what do you- what do you feel?” You stammered again, your eyes looking everywhere but directly at her.

“I feel…” don’t show vulnerability, “you’re a little annoying.” Show a little vulnerability!

The immediate laugh that left your lips was hypnotising, almost even enough to distract her from her apparent inability to confess a single thing. The inferno in her chest was growing, but not from embarrassment. No, it was something else, something better. It grew and spread as you reached out and pulled her closer by her hips, her own fingers brushing against your hand-

-her head was thrown back as an electric shock radiated from her fingers, spreading down her veins until leaving a sharp pain in the back of her head. She would know the Nevermore dorms in her sleep, but this one was different. There were a few things on the shelf that she recognised

“But why aren’t they here?”

At the sound of a voice - it was surprisingly young - Wednesday dashed under one of the beds. Her foot knocked something around, but she didn’t look down. She was too focused on the door opening and two pairs of feet walking into the room. The larger pair belonged to a boy around Pugsley’s age who looked like he was in desperate need of a haircut. A frown adorned his face; it seemed unnatural.

Behind him was a child. One with raven black wings and a small scar through her top lip.

“All the parents showed up,” you whined. There was a familiar droop to your wings; it seemed you couldn’t outgrow everything.

“Well not ours,” the boy said. Who was he? Had you ever mentioned him before? Surely you had, how could you not?

“They promised,” you said.

“They’re not coming,” the boy said a little louder.

“But why not?” You asked.

“Because they don’t want us!” He shouted, causing you to flinch and your eyes to screw shut. “They don’t want us and they’re not coming back!”

The room fell under a suffocating silence as the boy looked at you, his face instantly transforming from frustration to regret. A single tear fell down your chubby cheek and past your lips. Your arms wrapped around yourself so tightly, Wednesday could see your knuckles straining against the skin.

“But I was good,” you whispered, finally opening your eyes to look at the older boy. He sighed and stepped closer, pulling you into a hug that you clung to, a hug that seemed so personal Wednesday felt the need to look away to give you both a moment.

“I know,” he said softly into your ear.

“Wednesday!”

Her head snapped back and she became painfully aware of the way you were holding her face. There was concern written in your eyes as you looked her over frantically, desperately. Your fingers gently twitched against her jaw and neck and it was so soft it hurt.

“Are you okay?” You asked with a shakiness in your voice that she had just heard in her vision.

After what she had just seen, your kindness and gentleness made no sense. There were few details, but she knew what had happened. All of that and you weren’t angry? You weren’t furious? Didn’t you want to take it out on everybody until you felt better? But no, you were so focused on making sure she was okay and your fingers were so tragically soft even as they moved down to hold her by her shoulders.

Do it.

You were still fussing over her, guiding her to sit down on the marble slab in the mausoleum. A burning jolt shot through her veins as you moved to stand between her legs. Oh, how her hands shook as she reached up to grab the collar of your shirt. Would you reject her if she did something spontaneous?

“Wednesday, you’re not answering me,” you said frantically. She could hear the worry in your voice but was too focused on how your lips moved.

She wanted to do it. For the first time since meeting you, she genuinely wanted to do it. It was in the concern on your face and the frown on your lips. Would you still be frowning if she leaned forward? If she was so bold? She certainly didn’t feel bold anymore, not now when you were so close and so worried about her in a way that few ever had been.

“Just tell me you’re okay.” Your voice was rising, cracking with emotion that she hadn’t heard anyone display towards her before.

It was an unusual situation to be in, this not being confident in herself. Wednesday couldn’t recall a time where she hesitated to do what she wanted. But as she looked up at you and saw the way you licked your lips, she hesitated. She hesitated because this wasn’t supposed to happen this way. She had sworn off romance because she wasn’t her mother or father. It was nothing but a distraction and she had plans for her life, grand plans that no one would get in the way of.

“Dammit, Wednesday, just tell me-”

-she couldn’t take it anymore. In a single moment, she did everything she had sworn she wouldn’t. Her hands gripped your collar tighter and pulled you down until finally, finally your lips crashed ungraciously against hers. It wasn’t pretty; there was nothing romantic about it. It was rushed, sloppy, too hard, and your lips were unbearably chapped.

But by god if it wasn’t perfect. It was perfect in the way your grip tightened around her shoulders before you pulled her closer. In the way she could feel you holding your breath, almost as if you were worried that if you breathed, it would stop. The way she could feel your pulse rushing madly beneath her knuckles pressed against your neck.

She pulled back, fighting against everything in her not to smile when you tried to chase after her. Your eyes fluttered open as you looked down at her in a haze. A haze that was undoubtedly reflected in her own eyes. Looking up at you, with that dumbstruck look of yours and a hunger that she felt deep in her chest as her hands moved to rest against the back of your neck.

“Does that mean you’re okay?” You whispered, your hands sliding down to hold her by her hips.

With a roll of her eyes, she pulled you down into another kiss that you eagerly fell into. This one felt more natural, more like how one would imagine a first kiss to go. It was hungrier, but far softer, almost like you were scared to break her. And as she pulled you impossibly closer, maybe you would. She had never felt this vulnerable before, and maybe you would be the one to break her with your strong grip and soft hands.

But when one of your hands moved to cup her jaw and hold her still, she determined she was okay with breaking if it was you. If you were the one to shatter her heart and soul, that would be okay. Because now, in that exact moment, you were the only thing on her mind. Only you. You and your soft, scarred hands could break her in the gentlest way.

And she wouldn’t dare try to stop you.

—---

Gomez would admit he was a little surprised when Wednesday came down for breakfast without you. Still in her pyjamas from the night before and hair slightly disheveled, a part of him hoped his assumptions were correct. But with breakfast halfway finished and Wednesday still hadn’t said a word, he was starting to lose hope. He certainly didn’t want to lose to Grandmama.

But when you finally stumbled into the kitchen with smudged eyeliner and hazy eyes, he started to feel a bit more hope. You practically tripped into the chair beside Wednesday and reached for the cereal box. With only half-open eyes, you struggled until Wednesday rolled her eyes, grabbed it, and put it in your hands. You turned your head to offer her a sleepy smile, and that’s when Gomez saw it.

“Aha!” He exclaimed as he slammed his hands on the table, startling everyone at the table; you more so than the others.

“The excessive noise is not necessary,” Wednesday said, but Gomez instead just pointed to your neck.

“I was correct,” he continued. Your eyes went wide when you finally noticed where his finger was directed as he turned to face Grandmama. “I shall now take my winnings.”

“You were supposed to wait until you got back to school,” Grandmama said directly to Wednesday, who rolled her eyes in return. The slightest blush dusted her cheeks.

Nonetheless, Grandmama dug into her pocket and threw the cash onto the table, giving Gomez his victory. You were suddenly extremely interested in the cereal you were pouring with shaky hands as he put the wad of cash into his own pocket. It was an amusing turn of events, he thought, to see Wednesday finally at a loss for words.

Mercifully, he allowed you both to finish breakfast without much more teasing. You had already been avoiding his eyes, and as much as he was wanting to continue, he was going to be nice. It seemed you were both still exhausted from the previous night - he and Morticia shared a knowing look - and he was a generous man. He would be fair and let you rest for a moment.

But once you were all finished and you had helped wash the dishes - much against everyone’s insistence - and everyone headed back to the common room, he exacted his plan. You had been here for long enough to know the workings of the house, and he had one more thing he wanted to do before allowing you to rest for the remainder of your time in the house.

Like a tiger, he waited until your back was turned before grabbing his foil and sneaking up on you. The ruffle of your feathers should have given him indication, but he swung anyway. He was stopped in his tracks as he was stopped with the dagger currently residing in your left hand.

“Ha!” You shouted back with the most giddy look on your face. “I knew it!”

Beside you, Wednesday allowed the smallest ghost of a smile before holding out a sword for you to take. Ah, Gomez thought, you had both planned as well. He felt himself let out a laugh as he pulled back and got into position, completely ready to give it all he had.

Wednesday moved to the side as you swung first, and so your dance began. Your actual swordsmanship had improved over the week, you were a far more admirable opponent. But he was more focused on your footwork. He toyed with you, drawing you this way and that, forcing you to move all around the common room. And all the while, you staved off his advances.

“Aha!” Gomez shouted as he cornered you and held the sword to your neck. But you held no fear in your eyes; if anything, he saw defiance.

“Check,” you answered with a smirk and your eyes gesturing down until his own gaze followed.

“Check indeed,” he whispered with a smile when he saw the dagger you held to his side.

He dropped the sword and pulled back, clapping you on the shoulder and offering you congratulations on the draw. Was that happiness he saw on your face as you thanked him? The feathers on your wings fluffed up when you stepped back and thanked him again before following Wednesday out of the common room.

“She is an Addams,” Morticia said once you were both out of earshot.

“Yes,” Gomez said through the haze of his thoughts. “Indeed she is.”

—---

Wednesday opened the door to her room before you could knock the third time. Your hand was still raised and you had a sleepy, stupid smile on your face. Without hesitation, she pulled you into a kiss as she dragged you into the room. Impressively, you kicked the door shut behind you without pulling away.

“Yet you can’t dance?” Wednesday asked, her lips brushing against yours.

“Dancing takes skill,” you shrugged. “I’m a natural kicker.”

“That doesn’t make you sound interesting,” she said as she continued to drag you back to the bed with her. “It’s actually quite vapid.”

“You sure know how to woo a girl, don’t you?” You teased back.

“You’re maddening,” Wednesday said with a roll of her eyes. “Why are you even here?”

“Why do you only ask after you kiss me?” You asked.

She didn’t bother giving you an answer before pulling you onto the bed with her. Thankfully you were (surprisingly) graceful enough not to fall on her, instead landing beside her and staying there. Yes, she had kissed you - more than once at this point - but she still wasn’t too sure about cuddling. That was just a little too intimate. And by some miracle, you understood and didn’t push it.

“You ready to go back?” Your voice was muffled as you shifted around to get comfortable. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it was for you to get comfortable with wings the size of yours. Was it a struggle every night? Could you ever truly sleep well?

“Yes,” Wednesday lied.

“Well I’m not, I think-”

You rambled on while Wednesday’s mind started wandering. She was not ready to go back to Nevermore where everyone was in her business and you were different. It hadn’t been expected, she had never thought you would have another side to you. But after this week she got to see you happy. A genuine, true happiness that she only just realised wasn’t entirely there at Nevermore.

After what she had seen, she didn’t blame you for acting different. Your parents had abandoned you, had left you in the hands of strangers without any indication of when you would go home again. Did Nevermore bring out that darker side of you? Is that why you were more hesitant, more reserved? Would the excitement you were displaying here continue, or would you fall back to old habits, an old familiar personality?

“Oh my god,” you groaned, drawing Wednesday back to the present.

“What?” She asked, but her question was answered when she heard the noises coming from across the house.

“How are you so okay with hearing your parents fuck all the time?” You asked. “I never heard my parents.”

Wednesday had to bite back the retort that no, of course you didn’t, because they had left you. She couldn’t show all her cards just yet, it wasn’t the right time. And it would hurt you, her heart told her. Yes, she supposed that was true as well, she certainly didn’t want to hurt you. Aside from her feelings, it wasn’t like you had done anything to hurt or scare her-

-wait. Yes you had.

You were still rambling, going off about who knows what. At this point, Wednesday was determined you were talking just to hear your own voice. Not that she minded, of course, it gave her the perfect chance to look around her room to find what she could use in her plot against you.

Ah. That works perfectly.

“Can you pull that lever for me?” Wednesday said, interrupting whatever your train of thought had been.

“What?” You asked, looking around behind you to find the lever in question. “Why?”

“It’s the light,” she lied effortlessly, “I forgot to grab something.”

“Oh,” you said cheerily, “yeah sure!”

She should have felt guilty when you got up with the most eager smile on your face. It should have been eating away at her from the inside out because you wanted so desperately to help. But as you approached the lever and looked at it, all she could think about was the humiliation you had put her through at the end of your date. You had made her scream, and she was going to exact her revenge.

Satisfaction. That’s what she felt when you grabbed the lever and was immediately pulled up into the water tubes that littered the mansion. You didn’t scream, but she heard a very profound “fuck!” before you disappeared. Her heart pounded in her chest like a hammer as she stood to her feet and took her time grabbing her jacket and shoes.

For such a split-second plot, it was going splendidly. Grandmama gave her a wave as she passed, and she was standing at the tube exit right when you were shot out. You literally jumped to your feet and stood there, soaked arms and wings held out away from your also-soaked body. With wide, uncertain eyes and hair sticking up in every direction possible, Wednesday couldn’t stop her smile.

“I usually like my revenge warm,” Wednesday said when you started to shiver. You looked like a drowned rat. “This works just as well.”

Your eyes slowly, impressively slowly lifted until you were locking eyes with her. Her smile slowly fell as yours in turn grew. The muscles of your whole body tensed so much she could see it underneath your shirt. A single twitch of your left wing had her furrowing her brows.

“Don’t,” she warned.

You didn’t listen.

In books and movies, everyone says the accidents happen in slow motion. You can see your entire life flash before your eyes and bear witness to every minute atom in sight. But as Wednesday watched you, she realised they were wrong. There was nothing slow or poetic about the way you shook so violently she swore your feet lifted off the ground. It was reminiscent of a dog; maybe you had learned the habit from the Furs. It would certainly explain the ridiculous noise you let out mid-shake.

The amount of water that came off of you was rather impressive, but she didn’t find it as enjoyable when she was suddenly drenched and standing with you out in the cold. You didn’t back down from her glare, instead standing taller and matching her expression.

Your feathers being extremely fluffed up now did nothing to help you.

“This isn’t over,” Wednesday said as she stepped closer until she was face-to-face with you.

Well. Face-to-chest with you.

“Bring it, Addams,” you shot back, “my momma didn’t raise no bitch.”

Your words meant nothing to her as you pulled her into a searing kiss that took over every one of her senses. Suddenly she didn’t feel so cold anymore.

[spider-jaysart]

Okay soooo, first time I'm doing something like this, but I wanna introduce a fave oc of mines today that I've been working on for a longtime now :)

Her name is Nadja Al Ghul-Wayne-Kent and she's a Damijon kid

(Click for better quality)

@camo-wolf @paladin-of-nerd-fandom65

The name Nadja means "hope" in Arabic. My very dear friend @theredheaded-stuff was the one who helped me pick it. And her hero name is Super Canyon, which is inspired by the Canyon Wren bird

(More under the cut)

(Edited some stuff on this post now btw)

Backstory:

After being inspired by the story of how Kon was created, a secret group of no good scientists, who just love causing chaos with many of their inventions, decided one day to create a mixed clone of both Damian and Jon, thinking they can do better than Lex did, so they collected both of the boys DNA's after one of their recent battles in public and got to work. Once their experiment was supposed to be done, they saw that their machine had actually created a baby girl instead of a grown, powerful clone like they had wanted, so they were ready to dispose of her as a failed subject, but were suddenly stopped just on time by Damian and Jon who broke into the place and kicked their butts after finding out that a recently committed crime they were investigating was caused by them. When they were done, the boys found Nadja and were surprised to find out she's a clone related to them both. They decided to take her with them and made her their daughter to raise together after that.

Personality:

She's helpful, stubborn, is as intelligent as Damian is, friendly but also tough when she needs to be, observant, sometimes a little too honest about things but doesn't always mean it as rude, courageous (a trait that can be pretty helpful sometimes, but also get her into really big trouble during dangerous situations too), a prankster, and very protective of others, especially her loved ones

Abilities and skills:

She has the usual Kryptonian abilities, which are flying, super strength, superhearing, superspeed, superbreath, ice breath, invulnerablity, x-ray vision, and laser vision that's purple instead of the usual red (because Lois has purple eyes, so it's something unique that was passed onto her that way). Sometimes they don't always work though and can accidentally get out of hand too since she's still growing and learning, but Jon aways tries his best to help her get better at using and controlling them. Nadja also uses many concentrating tips from Damian too for improvement, like meditating for example and other things like that, and he helps her practice them

And because she's half Kryptonian, she also has a couple of unlocked special abilities of her own too, which is invisiblity, the ability to phase through walls and objects, plus the power to also transfer the heat of her laser vision into the palm of her hands to burn who or whatever she touches and she can also let it absorb her whole body too if she wants, which makes her even more untouchable and at the same time lets her release a strong fiery blast around herself onto enemies or incoming threats (her body glows completely purple whenever she does this and if it's just her hands, the same happens to them too). Nadja hasn't been able to properly master these special powers yet though, only one of them, which is the invisiblity one

For skills, thanks to teachings from Damian, plus Talia whenever she visits her, Nadja knows how to use a sword and fight well in combat in case her powers aren't working the way she urgently needs them to during patrols and missions

Random facts:

She calls Damian Baba and Jon Dad.

She calls Clark "Grampops" and Bruce "Grampbats". For Talia, she calls her "Grandmother" and for Lois, she calls her "Grandmama".

Her best friend is her same age Cousin Dick II, the Son of her much older Cousin Jake Grayson and his Wife Meredith Robinson. In the Batfamily (besides Damian), she's close with all her Aunt and Uncles. And for the Al Ghul's, she also gets excited whenever she visits Talia and Ra's. And while she definitely also gets along a lot with her other relatives who are in the Superfamily, the person she's most closest to there (besides Jon ofc) is Kon, due to them both being created as clones meant for evil but turned out good instead, which got them to bond even more as Uncle and Niece.

Her voice sounds like Clementine's from Telltales the walking dead games, but specifically the version of it from season 2 for the tween age she's in right now.

She has messy hair like Jon when she lets it loose. Jon is the one who always has to brush her hair whenever it gets tangled up, since the steel strength of it is just too difficult for Damian to actually handle himself.

Nadja laughs at Damian's jokes all the time since she gets his dark humor and he loves that. They always laugh a lot about it together but when Jon's around, they're Iike "You wouldn't get it" and he gets all offended.

Jon passed his love for noodles onto Najda and Damian's usually like "That's not healthy!!" And tries cooking her vegetarian meals more often or healthy ones that Talia would used to make him back when he was a kid, just so that Najda will eat real food lol. Najda also really loves the meals that comes from Damian's culture too and gets happy whenever he makes them for dinner.

For nicknames, Jon will sometimes call her "Sweetpea", "Sugar cookie", and "Tootsie pops", while Damian calls her "Habibti", "Thamin" (meaning "precious" in Arabic), and "Galbi" (which means "my heart" in Arabic)

Damian matches his outfits with Nadja all the time just like Talia would always used to do with him when he was a little kid. He does this with Jon included too and they take pictures together.

When making her hero suit, Damian was the one who helped Nadja out in drawing the designs and brainstormed ideas with her. When she had finally found one she liked and was ready to make it, Damian and Jon could've helped her sew it and everything, but they didn't have many materials that she could use or a sewing machine either, only a regular sewing kit that they use to fix up their own suits whenever they get damaged, so they let her make it with Ma's help instead at her place when they visit her and Pa again, since she actually owned a machine and also had a sewing room filled with many useful materials. When asked, Ma didn't mind letting Nadja use her stuff at all and was instead delighted about it since it would just give them the chance to spend time with eachother while doing one of her favorite hobbies together.

And next time, while having their usual Mother and Son days out together, Talia helped Damian pick out the sarong skirt for Nadja while hanging around stores, since they thought it would be nice for her to have one. Jon was the one who bought Nadja the red sneakers while shopping together with Kathy, since it reminded him of Kathy's old purple, rainbow ones, but with a twist of red thrown onto it, which also reminded him a lot of his favorite old ones that he used to always wear as a kid too. Dick and Cyborg helped her insert digital tech into her cuffs, which lets out hologram screens that let her know whenever she's over using her powers since she's still mastering them and it does plenty of other useful things for her too.

Najda was also given a mask to go with her suit at first too since she thinks it's annoying to wear glasses in her regular life everyday, but then it got lost during a fight and some villains saw her face, so she was still forced to go with the glasses route in the end anyways.

As adults, Jon's a scientist and Damian's a veterinarian. Najda likes visiting both of her Dads at their day jobs after school and doing her homework there while they work. She always promises to behave and not get in the way and if she has no work to do, she'll help them out too, which they appreciate. She also loves watching what they do and let's them happily explain their favorite stuff about the job to her. She knows a lot about taking care of animals and science because of this.

Nadja loves music and making it too. She even thinks about playing rock music for a living when she grows up. Damian and Jon support her in this and buy her the instruments she needs and they also listen to her songs when she wants to show it off to them. Because of them being in a band themselves back when they were kids, Damian, Jon, Chris, and Jake give her lessons sometimes on how to better play her instruments.

Civilians and especially interviewers always question about how they had Nadja and just assume that she's adopted or assume that just because she looks more like Damian, she's probably from a secret ex girlfriend he had before being with Jon. The last one annoys both Damian and Jon so much, especially Jon since Nadja is actually his kid too and he gets jealous at the thought of the ridiculous idea. Both him and Damian hate these rumors and just want everyone to mind their own business.

[jienem]

His Human

Edited version

part 1 part 2 part 3

Stay tuned~

Y/N's time was limited. They got a letter from Epel saying that her grandmother is ill. She and her parents were starting to worry, so she was beginning to pack to leave. She went into the forest with a heavy heart and shared the news with them. Lilia, who looked at her with a sympathetic gaze, hugged her, to which she was surprised by the gesture and returned it with all her might.

"I wish for your grandmother's health to recover. Until then, see you again next time, Y/N."

"Thank you, Lilia-san." Y/N couldn't help but cry softly in his arms while Malleus patted her shoulder. His silent support encourages her so much.

"Y/N, we are always here for you. Don't forget that, Silver softly said, earning the bird on his shoulder to twit in unison.

"WE SHALL WAIT FOR YOUR RETURN NEXT SPRING." Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at his statement before mumbling.

"Next spring..."

~~~

"Grandmama, we're back. Are you alright? Are you in any discomfort?" Y/N asked the moment she sat down beside her. Her parents were outside talking to their doctor while she went in.

"Grandmama, don't worry, I won't leave. I will be here, okay?" she whispered as she watched her grandmother move her head slowly to look at her. The state of hers breaks her heart. She clasps her hand into hers as she hums, just like she did to her when she was young.

~~~

Y/N took over her parents business while they were away. She saw Epel, who was sitting outside the shop while he stared at the scenery in front of him. He was bored. She chuckled before joining him outside. He glanced at her for a moment before grumbling.

"Augh, it's so boring out here! Didn't you get tired doing all this stuff?"

"Haha... No, I don't even have a choice. Even if I did, what choices do I have?"

"Grrr, fair point."

Y/N stared at the sky with a troubled expression, watching birds fly and go before remembering she had to go into the mail station this afternoon. But alas, she was on duty. She looked at Epel, and nervousness was starting to creep in.

"Epel?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind sending this to the mail station?"

Y/N handed the letter to a curious epel, who stared at the letter.

"Is this the guy you met at what you called the valley something?"

"Nice try, it was actually Briar Valley."

"Ah yeah, that! So a letter for your boyfriend?"

"Absolutely Not!"

~~~

To an aspiring knight, Sebek

How are you faring? I'm sorry for the delay; I was kept busy for the most part. For a while, I took over my parents business and had to run some errands. I was constantly asked to look for my younger brother while worrying about my grandmother, who was still ill. It was a stressful week, to say the least.

But enough about that; how was your hand? You said it hurt for a while; have you applied the ointments that I gave you? Please let me know; I worry.

From Y/N

~~~

Sebek read the letter one more time with a soft smile written in his face before carefully tucking it into his breastplate without anyone noticing, but Silver noticed his gesture and smiled softly.

"Was it from Y/N?"

"WHA?! I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT, Sebek voiced, attracting Lilia and Malleus nearby. Lilia grinned before teasing Sebek, who was denying everything.

"Don't be so shy, Sebek; it was wonderful talking to a Y/N, don't you think so?" Lilia teases while Silver nods before adding.

"She also makes delicious food every time she comes here."

"Agreed, especially when she brings an ice cream with different flavors." Malleus joined while Sebek was flustered.

"I... I AGREE WITH YOU, WAKA-SAMA, THE FOOD SHE BRINGS IS NOT SO BAD!"

"So you admit that it was delicious?" Silver questioned.

"Of COURSE NOT!"

"Then why did you agree if it wasn't delicious?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Fufufu, Sebek, don't be so shy and admit it, but who was better at cooking? Was it me or Y/N?" the three men look at Lilia's direction with a troubled expression. They soon both look at Sebek, who was under pressure with Lilia's question.

"HUMAN'S COOKING COULDN'T EVEN COMPARE TO YOUR SPECIAL DISHES LILIA-SAMA! WHILE HER COOKING WAS DELICIOUS NOTHING COULD COMPARE YOUR UNIQUE INGREDIENTS! "

"..."

"..."

"..."

"He finally admit it."

~~~

Y/N was in trouble. Her dilemma last year was beginning to root again when, in a mere month, it was spring again. Her parents didn't seem keen on going; they started to fight a lot more than before while she cradled her brother in her room while they fought. After managing some business, checking up on her grandmother, and watching her younger brother, it really took a toll on her. She was really looking forward to going back to the Briar Valley, but that was on the brink of bleakness.

With a heavy heart, she wrote down the letter with care. She sent it the next day while the sky was cloudy.

~~~

Silver watches as Sebek reads the recent letter with furrowed eyebrows.

"What does it say?"

"She couldn't make it back next month."

"Ah..."

They were silent. "Will you make a response?"

"After our training! I can't afford to skip my time to serve Waka-sama!"

"Sebek! Won't you make a response?"

Silver stared at him. He watched how his expression changed with different emotions before sighing.

"I Don't know."

"Why?"

"I Don't know," he repeated. He crossed his arms and stared at the ground while Silver waited for his response. Sebek pursed his lips before replying.

"I suppose it was because I don't know how to respond." For once, Sebek's voice was quiet. Silver patted his shoulder, offering him comfort.

"She would be back next spring, would she not?"

"She would."

"Then let's wait for her again, just like last year. Won't you?"

"Hrrgh, I supposed."

~~~

Months have gone by again, and Y/N this time saved her money in case her parents didn't plan on going. She was fourteen and about to be fifteen in a few months. Her grandmother was doing fine after a year of treatment. She stood by her side, watching her progress, and relief washed over her when she was finally released.

She helped her grandmother the best she could while watching over her younger brother. Her grandmother had an unknowingly serious look on her face as she stared at her granddaughter.

"Child, shouldn't you be at the Briar Valley this week?" Y/N stopped in her tracks as she stared at her grandmother with a wide expression on her face.

"Ah, I was planning to... But I would come back very quickly after a few days," She assures, but her grandmother only raises her eyebrows at her answer.

"You don't have to worry about us here, go have fun being at your youth, I will handle everything, don't worry about this old lady here, I will look after my youngest grandchild. Please, Y/N, my beautiful granddaughter." Her grandmama took her hands as she spoke softly while laying her forehead against hers, Y/N couldn't help but pause as she struggled to gulp down her sadness.

"Go, they are waiting for you."

Her grandmother whispered with a smile she knew so well. It was her expression when she was at her happiest, content, and complete. Y/N nodded, closing her eyes.

"Thank you, Grandmama."

~~~

Y/N knocked on the door, but no one answered. She was confused as to why it was quiet around here. She should have known, on the way here, it was dead silence. The animals that were scattered were nowhere to be seen. Sebek and Silver, who were often around at this time, were not present. With a downcast expression, she was about to go back when she recognized the two birds flying in her direction. They flap at her with glee. Y/N brushed her fingers against their feathers, asking where the two were. The birds looked at each other before flapping their wings. She had a troubled look on her face as she didn't understand before she felt a nudging on the back of her head.

She craned her neck and saw a horse neighing behind her. The birds flew to the horse's head before tweeting loudly. Y/N took it as a sign to sit on the horse's back before making its way somewhere else. She was nervious, she didn't know which direction it was heading from, but she trusted it was where the two were. Her surroundings changed into an opening field, stopping only when a mansion came into view. She got off the horse and caressed the birds before walking into the mansion door. She paused, debating whether to knock or not. But she knew she couldn't come back for nothing, so with little determination, she knocked on the door.

She waited. But no one seems to answer. Sighing, she tried again with a little force before moments passed and it opened. Behind the door, she was greeted by a tall man who had the same characteristics as Sebek. This would be Sebek if he got older.

Y/N was speechless for a while before asking. "Ah... Is Sebek here?"

The man watches her with curiosity in his eyes. Y/N grew nervous at his intense eyes before they flashed with recognition.

"You must be Y/N am I right, young lady?" 

She nodded in confirmation. The man opened the door, letting her walk in before closing it behind her. Y/N took in her surroundings and stared at the large painting hanging on the wall. It was Sebek with his whole family. This must have been made when he was just a boy back then.

"Y/N?" a familiar voice called out.

"Silver?" Y/N couldn't help but feel relief as she caught sight of Silver, who had droopy eyes from all of his sleepiness. Y/N chuckled whilst thinking he had not change a bit.

"Welcome back, I'm sorry I didn't get your letter."

"Oh no, I didn't send it recently. It was supposed to be a surprise, but it got backfired." She sheepishly rubbed her neck while looking around before turning to the tall man and bowing. Mumbling her thank you before he nodded. He turned to Silver and expected him to see their guest, to which he expressed his gratitude. Y/N watches their interaction before the tall man leaves. Silver noticed her fascination in her surroundings but her eyes tells a different story. He shake his head his head knowingly as he waited for her question.

"Ah, is Sebek here?" she asked as she lifted her head slightly to look at him.

"Sebek is at the library for a moment; would you wish for me to accompany you there?" 

"No need, I could go there myself." she refused. Silver then pointed the hallway on his left causing Y/N eyes to follow.

"Straight up ahead before turning left, there is a big door, one that is very different from the smaller ones you would pass by, that is the library." he instructed, watching how different emotions showed in her eyes before she smiled.

"Thank you so much, Silver."

"No, thank you Y/N for coming, it was the least I could do."

~~~ 

She opened the door knob, making a creaking sound while she pushed it inside. She breathed in the warm, dusty, woody air from the inside and went in.

"Sebek?" She called, but no one answered. She closed the door behind her, slowly walking around as she took in the number of significant books on the shelves. Her hands moved to the book spine, sliding her eyes as she read the titles. At the end of the books, she noticed a figure lying in the window nook. There he was. Sebek had a soft expression on his face, it was very different when he was awake. The book was resting on his chest while he inhaled and exhaled softly as the light illuminated his figure. She could hear her heartbeat pounding in her chest, and she couldn't take her eyes off him.

He changed. He was no longer the boy she met two years ago. His face also changed to a mature one, his physique was much more bulkier than before, and she could tell he was taller than her now. She slowly and carefully walked towards him, careful not to wake him up as she did. When she was at his side, she carefully pulled the book from his chest and was about to place it on the table near him when a hand shot up and held her wrist. Her eyes fluttered to Sebek quickly thinking he was awake, but he wasn't. He was the same as before, but his grip said otherwise. 'Is this one of his reflexes? She wondered. But she tried her luck and whispered his name, but his soft snore indicated he was still asleep. Y/N chuckled with a soft expression on her face. Before wiggling her wrist from his hold but to no avail.

She sigh and resigned into her fate while got comfortable at the chair near the window nook. His eyebrow furrowed as he mumbled incoherently. Y/N watches his form before humming a tune as she caressed his temple. She moved her head closer to his, her hair curtains the side of his face as she mumbles softly.

"Sleep tight my dear knight."

Hurrayy part 4 was finished, only one more to go! I had some major changes into the ending, often changes it before, sorry for the inconvenience!

But thank you all for enjoying this sebek x reader as much as I do I really, really, really, appreciate your support! I truly do!

Taglist

@growingupnrealizing

@fluffle-bean @luciel1 @hazukiix @worldussysblog @daruderuyoo

[lovepoison9]

Hotel De La Addams

Presumed Normie, Tyler Galpin, is backpacking through the US when he finds himself in Hotel de la Addams. He meets the concierge, Gomez and his horrifyingly beautiful wife, Morticia Addams.

Wednesday Addams the eldest of the 3 Addams children, is an inspiring horror novelist but her parents don’t want her to leave Hotel de la Addams and help continue to run the hotel for outcast.

Hotel de la Addams is the perfect vacation destination for outcast looking for horrors and tortures of all kinds. Special activities include, mud spa, haunted graveyards, and a porana infested pool.

Tyler is recently college graduate, 24 y/o, who’s dream is to travel the world in hopes to learn all different types of culinary skills. He doesn’t realize the American gothic hotel he’s stepped into is a hotel for outcast.

The creepy kindhearted concierge are more than welcoming to Tyler. Asking if everything is to his liking and offering that Tyler should training under Grandmama, Eudora Addams, in the kitchen. Much to Tyler’s horror and enjoyment.

Wednesday who is in charge of tourist sites and event planning, finds herself constantly wandering back down to the kitchen for Tyler to make her a quad over ice.

Wednesday can’t seem to find what has her so intrigued in the normie man. The way his kitchen shirt clings to his biceps, the way his wide horrified doe-eyes follow her, the green hazel of those eyes, and the way his curls fall into his eyes has Wednesday cursing his name and making a voodoo doll of him.

How dare this stupidly cute and sweet normie boy cause Wednesday Addams such confusion and anger.

Though normie might not be the correct word for Tyler.

[2dlovley]

Things marvel got wrong 1 : Jotunns lets get one thing clear not all jotunns are blue skinned and ice gaints ,and have red eyes?? thanks allot marvel. jotunns are more like humanoid, with a few exceptions (fenrir, hel, jormungandr etc.), and they could and may be looking like your day to day humans. they could be scrawny and tall, animalistic or have a thousand heads (tyr's grandmama) Jotunns are known to be like a some sort of choas of nature, they could not fit into a little box to be described as just as ''gaints'' since the name ''gaints'' was just translated from the name ''jotunn''/''jotnar'' so yeah, thank you for reading my pep talk since marvel depictions of norse mythology is making me bananas

[n0t-1nt3r3st1ng]

Vulture!Wednesday AU - Part 2

It soon became apparent Wednesday had miscalculated her chances in Jericho City, or just Jericho as the locals called it. 

The incident which had it expelled had occurred near the end of the school year. She had made her preparations for her upcoming transfer and then performed the tracking spell Grandmama taught her. By the time she had launched the spell most Outcasts had left the city for vacation. With them back for the school year, their energies masked and confounded the tracking spell.  Like searching for a grain of sand in the desert.

At least she didn't have a problem finding an abode. Her new residence for the next four years was an abandoned State Hospital. A more Normie way of saying 'Lunatic Asylum'.

"Oh, my little storm cloud, you'll love it." Her father assured her on the ride to the property. Gomez, his wife Morticia and Wednesday were sitting on the back of their modified Pontiac 1938 Silver Streak. It was naturally painted black and with an engine far too powerful for it. Lurch drove the car with Pugsley sitting shotgun. "t is located on the edge of the city, at a cliff by the sea. No Normie will approach you by mistake, your privacy is secured."

"Indeed, you've done a fantastic job, Mon Amour." Her mother agreed, looking at her husband with pride. She turned to Wednesday. "While I applaud your incentive, my dear, don't forget to attend the school. Back in the day, before Jericho became what it is today, your father and I attended Nevermore Academy. It's where we met and fell in love."

"I assure you, Mother, my alibi shall mock the very concept of guilt." Wednesday replied. "Although my focus will be to 'officially' get a diploma. I have no interest in love or other useless distractions."

"I promise you, my little viper, you'll love Nevermore." Gomez assured her.

"Yes, it'll be the perfect school for you." Morticia added.

"Why, because it was perfect for you?" Wednesday replied, her usual ice cold tone rose an octave. "I've been clear before on my choices and they don't include following your footsteps.There are no fencers who can rival me, nor Dark Prom that could tempt me - it offends me you could ever think I'd appreciate such a thing. And as far as the Seance's Society or-"

"I merely meant you'll finally be among peers who'd understand you." Morticia interrupted her, nonchalant. "Maybe you'll even make some friends."

 "To be a friend I'd have to find one I could consider my equal. I doubt there's one teenager in the entire city who's not a slave of their hormones."

"You might be surprised." Gomez replied. "Nevermore isn't like any other school you've ever seen. It's a magical place. It's where I met your mother." He turned to Morticia with an adoring gaze. "And we fell in love."

Gomez and Morticia leaned in for a passionate kiss when Wednesday spoke up.

"You two are making me nauseous." She said, raising her voice. "Not in a good way."

"Darling, we aren't the ones who got you expelled." Her mother reminded her. "That boy's family was going to file 'Attempted Murder' charges. How would that have looked on your record?"

"Terrible." Wednesday conceded. "Everyone would've known I failed to get the job done."

"Ah, here we are!" Gomez said, excited to change the subject.

The car stopped at a gated door chained shut. The family stepped outside the vehicle and took in the view in front of them. A somber monument to a bygone era.

Its weathered facade, fashioned from aging brick and crumbling mortar, evokes a sense of both grandeur and desolation. Towering spires pierce the darkened sky, their jagged edges reaching upward like skeletal fingers grasping for salvation. Gargoyles, frozen in eternal anguish, leer from their perches, their stony gazes silently whispering tales of sorrow and despair.

The Addams unchained the entrance door. The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay, mingling with the faint echoes of tormented whispers that reverberated through the stillness. The dim glow of lamp light flickered along the cobblestone paths, casting elongated shadows that seem to beckon and warn in equal measure. Broken windows stare out into the night like vacant eyes, their broken frames reflecting the fractured souls that once sought solace within these walls. Within the depths of the hospital, dimly lit corridors stretch like labyrinthine passageways, leading to forgotten wards where the ghosts of the past continue their mournful existence. Faded wallpaper peels from the walls, revealing glimpses of forgotten patterns and lost memories. The floorboards creak underfoot, their mournful groans echoing through the emptiness, while dusty chandeliers, once resplendent, hang precariously, casting dancing shadows upon the desolate halls.

The family stared at the inside in silence, awaiting Wednesday's verdict.

"Perfect." She finally said.

"Yes but there's one slight issue." Gomez said, raising a finger. "I was unable to get the entrance for your suit like you needed it. It'd have brought too much attention if we had the workers open a hole on the side of the cliff."

"Then how do you propose we make one?" Wednesday replied.

The family turned towards Pugsley, who stood silent holding a bag and smiling. After midnight, where no one is there to witness, a small explosion makes a hole on the side of the cliff. It connects to the hospital's basement by a small passageway the family dug during the afternoon. During the next few weeks, Lurch will deliver the pieces necessary to set up the hangar.

But that's for the future. Right now the family makes a simple celebration and turns in for the night.

Tomorrow is Wednesday's first day and, despite what she promised, they wanted to make sure Wednesday gets there in time.

The next day, after hearing the principal give her opening speech, Wednesday is summoned to her office.

"Wednesday, certainly a unique name." Principal Weems says with a smile. They're sitting behind her desk. "I guess it is for the week of the day you were born?"

The woman is remarkably tall (6'3" Wednesday figures) and beautiful. Her blonde hair is almost white and styled to perfection and it matches her dress and coat. That and her bright blue eyes and red lipstick clashed with her pale skin. Everything in her person screams 'professional' and 'authority.'

"No, I was born on a Friday the thirteenth. The name comes from my mother's favorite poem." Wednesday replies, annoyed at having to give the same explanation to anyone who first hears her name.

"I see. I don't suppose she mentioned we were roommates back in the day?" Weems asks.

"It didn't come up." Wednesday replies, annoyed at the pointless chatter. "Why am I here? I have yet to do anything."

"It's not about the present Wednesday but your past." Weems replies as she takes a file from her desk, opens it and begins to read from it. "You certainly had an interesting academic journey. Eight schools in five years. Even for an institution such as ours, Nevermore doesn't allow students with such... reputation. You've requested a special uniform, given the fact this has to do with your medical condition, we allowed it. As a legacy student you are allowed a room in our campus yet you decided to reside outside the city. Given your past history, your family's history, it brings unease. You're here to be reminded of the delicate situation you're in. This was a favor, one other members of the faculty objected to."

Ah, Wednesday almost nods. It's a power display. As expected.

"I assure you, you have nothing to fear from me." Wednesday says with a smile that almost seems to belong to her. "I plan to dedicate myself to my studies during my stay at this institution."

"I'm glad to hear that." Weems replies with a false delight. "Although I must warn you that this school has a mandatory club program. You will have to interact with other students."

"My mother informed me of this." Wednesday replies. "I'm happy to inform you that I've already decided on which club I wish to be part of."

"Oh, really?" Weems' eyes widen ever so slightly. "And what club would it be? The Seance Society, perhaps? Or perhaps the fencing team?"

Wednesday has to fight the urge to scoff at her. Instead her smile widens an inch.

"I was thinking of joining the school's newspaper." She declares with a false sense of pride.

Weems looks at her amused for a few moments, before composing herself.

"Well, I can't say this is what I imagined, but I'm glad you've chosen to step outside your comfort zone. Although there's one problem." Weems noted.

"Which is?" Wednesday asks, for the first time unsure.

"Nevermore no longer has a newspaper team." Weems replies. "With the expansion and the new influx of students we were able to expand the operations as well as our facilities. We now have a small radio club."

Wednesday is frozen in her place. This was news to her.

"Then I guess it's clear what I must do." She replies swiftly.

"And that is?..." Weems leaves the question hanging.

"To adapt to the occasion." Wednesday replies as if it was obvious. "I shall join the radio club."

[lollipencil]

The Dark Side of The Moon: Part 2

Finally, an excuse to do some more of this one.

Enjoy and be gentle. ---

Marc groaned more in frustration than pain as he clenched at the bullet wound on their abdomen.

It was supposed to be a treat for Steven: a little excavation of a temple in Egypt, to help expand his network when he finished his course. Now, Marc sat under the statue that had been the main attraction of the dig, about to die so very far away from home.

At least, the three of them were together. All they could do was wait and pray that they could still be buried in the family graveyard. "Such a waste," an impossibly deep voice suddenly stated. "Who's there?" Marc asked. "Is it not obvious?"

At these words, a great wind began to surge through the chamber. Blood-stained sand danced in a small hurricane, and at the epicentre, formed a figure. Weathered bandages clung to long limbs, a tattered cloak failed to hide the dulled bronze crecent on their chest. While reduced to a floating skull, the figure's head made their identity very clear. At least to Steven. "Khonshu," he fronted to whisper in awe. "Indeed, and we have business to discuss."

Jake pressed forward slightly in curiosity. "Do we? Well then, how can we help you?" Steven chirrped, clapping his blood-soaked hands together. "Your body is dying," Khonshu noted, pausing briefly at their collective lack of reaction, "But this doesn't have to be the end for you." "Ok, with you so far." "I can grant you the power to avoid this death and, in exchange, you would serve me, as my fist of justice, my Moon Knight." "What workplace benefits do you offer?"

Khonshu wasn't sure what confused him more, the question or the swiftness it was delivered with: "I'm sorry?" "What's the full list of benefits you'll provide in exchange for our services?" Steven rephased, Marc and Jake nodding along. "... A suit which offers increased healing, strength, speed, among other attributes such as flight and weapon creation," Khonshu listed quickly, mindful of the blood still draining from their body. "May we discuss this among ourselves?" "...I suppose."

With a polite nod, Steven turned his attention fully inward. "What do we think then, chaps?" "I think we should go for it," Marc stated. "Yeah?" Jake raised a mental eyebrow. "It means we can see the family again, and think about it. Having an ancient god as our patron, no other member of our family has had one in centeries." "Ah, Grandmama would be thrilled," Steven added. "Are we all agreed then?" Jake asked.

"We accept," Marc said aloud. "Do you three vow to protect the travellers of the night?" Khonshu asked dramatically, just about remembering to address them all. "We do," they stated, physically and mentally. "Then rise my Moon Knights."

Like a dam bursting catastrophically, the coldfire of moonlight flooded their veins. Ice and fire warred in the wound as it was forced to close up, pushing the bullet out like it was being shot in reverse. Shuddering gasps of delight rippled between them all, as the bandages began to appear and wrap around every inch of mortal flesh, holding the power underneath their skin.

As their eyes opened to an intense light, their mouth grinned wildly at their new patron.

---

Honey-sweetened tea was passed around the living room as everyone settled. But Khonshu's eyes were firmly on his statue.

To say the overwhelmingly positive reaction to his Avatars (the plural was suprisingly easy to remember) was unexpected would be somewhat true. At one point in time, he would have expected it, but that had been many, many decades ago. And if humans were consistant on one thing, it was change.

As soon as the words "godly avatar" were spoken, they were a rush of activity.

Everyone was planning something. The father was planning something privately, while helping his wife with her idea of a grand party. The grandmother cackled with glee, and planned to make his avatars' favourite for dinner. And the children were scheming something, "favour" was being muttered around their little huddle.

And, merely a week later, Khonshu's statue had been moved from his temple to the living room. The blood had been reluctently cleaned from it, and a small table sat close by. The possible zombie butler was placing a small cup of tea on it. The father smiled knowingly up at it: "Welcome to the family."

[nynaeve-mashiara]

“I have longed all these years, for Rhaenys, the sister I lost in the Sack of Kings Landing. Can you imagine my delight when I learnt I had yet another sister, who had been hidden in plain sight for twenty years?” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Rule by my side, be my Hand, help me mend the Seven Kingdoms and usher in a golden age of Targaryen rule.”

“I wish I could believe you true. I wish my brother had survived the Sack of King’s Landing. I wish it was only Rhaenys’s blood, dripping off of Tywin Lannister’s hands. That my children had more than one uncle by blood.” She said, her voice thick with unshed tears. “Yet I have Dreamt, and had Seeings, and been warned by ancestors as varied as Bloodraven, Visenya the Conqueror, Daenys the Dreamer, Queen Helaena, Aegon the Conqueror, and Uncle Aemon at the Wall, of a black dragon painted red, covered in a cloth of gold. The Golden Company, howevermuch it is a sellsword company, working for coin, would never aid a Targaryen in reclaiming the Iron Throne. All their commander generals and most of their other officers have been Blackfyre loyalists, or their descendants.”

The wolf bared its teeth. The red and the yellow dragons swooped lower.

“I am here simply to request that you leave, and to reclaim my family’s ancestral sword. I will let you leave unharmed, if you so do.”

“What would it take to convince you, sister?” Aegon choked out.

“You cannot. I am sorry you have been raised in a lie, but my brother is dead. Blackfyre, if you please.” She said, holding out her hand.

“You dare dismiss your king?” Jon demanded.

“I am the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, Prince Rhaegar’s only surviving child. Did you think anyone with a shred of knowledge of history would believe you? Both of my grandfathers fought in the war of the Ninepenny Kings. Ser Barristan Selmy killed the last male-line Blackfyre pretender, the captain general of the Golden Company. It was that deed that got him elevated to the Kingsguard. If you wanted him to have as much as a shred of credibility, you should have picked any other sellsword company. Better yet, you should have handed him off to grandmama eighteen years ago.” she said, resting her left hand on the dirk at her hip and beckoning with the right she still had extended towards Aegon. “Telling Queen Rhaella is the only way anyone would have believed you, believed him true. Yet she never would have. Face it, Jon, you spent five years in the Golden Company under captain general Ser Myles Toyne. The original agreement must have been with him. There is no way a Toyne would work towards a Targaryen restoration; it is as likely as having Stannis Baratheon crown me tomorrow.”

“You dare, you, the cause of the entire War of the Usurper.” Jon bit out.

“I think you will find, Jon Connington, that the trigger of what would be known as Robert’s Rebellion, the War of the Usurper, was murder.” She said, cocking a brow. “Mother and father eloped, true. Mother out of love, or a wish for independence, or to be rid of a betrothed she did not want. Father out of the belief that Lyanna Stark’s steel, her wolf blood, her ice, the magic in the Stark bloodline, unbroken since Brandon the Builder raised the Wall eight thousand years ago, would produce a warrior princess worthy of the name Visenya. Worthy of being the third head of the dragon. Worthy of carrying a prophecy he did not fully understand. Yet war could have been avoided, had not Aerys Targaryen burned Brandon Stark alive in his own armour with wildfire, and demanded Rickard, Eddard, and Benjen Stark, and Robert Baratheon travel to King’s Landing to suffer the same fate. For the crime of wanting Lyanna Stark returned, whom they believed to be abducted.”

“Aerys was the king!”

“Aerys was mad!” she bit out. “Hand over Blackfyre, and I will allow you to leave.”

“And if we refuse?” Jon scoffed.

The white dragon raised its head high, looking behind them towards the assembled ranks of the Golden Company.

“Then, Jon, I will simply recreate the Field of Fire. The only parts of Westeros not loyal to me is Joffrey Hill and his sycophants in King’s Landing, the Westerlands, and the Iron Islands. Cousin Renly has decided to lay aside his claim, to keep his position as Master of Laws on the Small Council, and wedding Aunt Daenerys.” She said, taking a step closer to grip the hilt of Blackfyre.

He gripped her wrist to wrench her hand away, but froze as an arrow flew just an inch past his head.

“Those arrows are poisoned, Blackfyre. I might be a Targaryen, the Blood of Old Valyria, but I am also a Stark, the blood of Winterfell, a daughter of the North. I was raised by Rickard Stark as his heir, the future Stark, Lady Paramount, Warden of the North. I am loved, honoured, respected there. The Crannogmen of the Neck do not allow me to walk anywhere unguarded.”

With that, she drew Blackfyre out of the scabbard at his waist, and turned to return to her dragon. Her wolf followed her, and Ser Arthur Dayne, her sworn shield, her protector, walked backwards so he still had them in his sight.

[dolce-elegy]

Introducing: Renzo Barnes aka REVENANT

"Oh honey you shouldn't have~..."

The current unwilling avatar of the conveniently slumbering grandmama of all eldritch abominations and the abstract personification of discord itself: KHAOS. Renzo is the resident ultra dramatic, full-tilt diva of the Avengers (well, co-full-tilt divas with Stark) who loves more than anything to mess with people, beat the shit out of nazis (along with so-called “realists” who are nothing more than nazis in a trenchcoat with an anatomically-incorrect symbol), and be the most well-dressed bitch on the team~✨. With both a lust for life and a lust for blood, Renzo is the one you call upon when you need a bit more fire power to take of particularly stubborn enemies; supernatural or otherwise. Now the thing to know about them is that they usually like to “play with their food” and tend to not take things so seriously. However, if you manage to actually piss them off you better pick a God and pray that they finish you off quick instead of taking their sweet time with it. There are worse things than death after all…Normally when they’re not doing the odd superhero work around New York, you can find them either hanging out and having overdrawn fan discussions about the Star Wars prequels with one Peter Parker at their apartment near Empire State University or arguing with Eddie Brock and whining about the listicles they have to write as a Daily Globe intern for their day job. That or practicing for the current semester play their drama department is putting on. Also they tend to help out their “Grandpa” Alexei with some totally “legal” missions much to their mother and father’s chagrin along with teaching Morgan new and exciting swear words in both English, Spanish and Voidspeak to mess with Stark~✌️✨

Full Bio Below 🔽

Full Name: Renzo Yelena Barnes-Romanoff

Alias(es): Revenant (main alias)/Night Spinner (only used during the 5 years post snap as a way to honor Peter)

Nicknames: Ren, "Little Shit," Hot Topic, Life on the Murder Scene, Depeche Mode, Ren Ren (used only by Kobik), Kid (used by Bucky), Little Blackbird or “Маленький дрозд/Malen'kiy drozd” (used by Alexei and Melina), “Femme-Presenting Patrick Bateman,” “Netflix Adaption of Yuno Gasai,” and "RENZO NO"

Age: 23 (in 2027)

Birthday: May 27, 2004 (Gemini)

Face Claim: Indya Moore

Gender: AMAB femme-presenting non-binary

Pronouns: They/Them

Family:

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes (Adoptive Father)

Natasha Barnes-Romanoff (Adoptive Mother)

Richard James “RJ” Barnes-Romanoff (Adoptive little brother)

Kobik Rebecca Barnes-Romanoff (Adoptive little sister)

Melina Vostokoff (Adoptive Grandmother)

Alexei Alanovich Shostakov (Adoptive Grandfather who is absolutely proud of Renzo’s pre-teen kill count much to Natasha’s annoyance and Bucky’s horror)

Yelena Belova (Adoptive Aunt)

Anthony Stark (biological uncle because Howard Stark had a bit too much “fun” in Mexico during the 70s)

Virginia Potts-Stark (aunt by marriage)

Morgan Stark (Biological half-cousin)

Steven Grant Rogers (honorary uncle/Godfather)

Samuel Thomas Wilson (honorary uncle/Godfather)

Clint Barton (honorary uncle/Godfather)

Laura Barton (honorary aunt/Godmother)

Appearance: (please note that since one of Renzo’s main abilities is shapeshifting they can technically have any kind of appearance they want. They following is what they “lovingly” call their “default skin”)

Skin color: brown skin with a reddish, summer undertone

Hair: black, full-bodied, spiky and wavy, mid-length hair with 3 distinct cowlicks

Eyes: blood red eyes with a permanent “smoky eye” and eye bags that also do “fun” things like glow, leak out black smoke and/or a black, ink-like substance along with their scleras turning pitch black as well.

Powers: Mediumship, Retrocognition, Empath Abilities, Umbrakinesis, Pyrokinesis, Shapeshifting, Flight/Levitation, Chaos Magic, Teleportation, Enhanced Speed/Strength/Healing Factor

Likes: Iced Coffee, High Fashion, sunglasses (especially if they’re heart-shaped), cheesy 80s movies, old musicals, watching old musicals and movies with Barnes, vintage fashion, charcoal (when you’re the KHAOS proxy you get “interesting” cravings…), hamburgers, french fries, salty foods in general, pocky, bad horror movies, anime, manga, broadway musicals, drama, drama (again but this time it’s theater-related), performing, singing, hot vampires, trying to hook up with vampires and get the big titty goth gf vamp gf of their dreams, gossiping, beating the shit out of and killing nazis/hydra agents/fascists, ABBA, disco in general (is pissed off that they were never around for the 70s and 80s), citypop, messing with Flash Thompson, messing with Mary-Beth Asger (ex-member of a “Christian” cult/proxy to KHAOS’ equally “slumbering” counterpart of Order, who honestly hasn’t completely stopped believing everything that she was taught even though admittedly she’s gotten better and is still your stereotypical, pompous, “nice white girl”), flirting, knives, messing with General Ross, getting to “let loose” (AKA letting their murderous impulses run wild on nazis), messing with “Tio Tony,” constantly shoving in “Tio Tony’s” face that they’d totally be “Team Cap” if they were around for the Airport Fight, honestly just messing with people in general.

Dislikes: egg creams (no matter how hard Barnes tries to make them like it, they refuse to drink it and they think that it’s nasty), ghosts, being able to see ghosts, their “Seer” powers overall, nazis/hydra/fascists, cults, other eldritch abominations in the AMARANTHINE (court of eldritch abominations that KHAOS is technically the head of), KHAOS because they have to clean up their (KHAOS’) messes, Christian cults (i.e. Evangelicals, Fundamentalists), terfs, boring people, boring movies, when people try to pick on Peter and Ned, having to write “listicles” for the Daily Globe, Blade constantly dashing their big titty goth vamp gf dreams

Personality: Theatrical, petty, vengeful, crafty, mischievous, sarcastic, but surprisingly compassionate, and empathetic (whether they like it or not). When not acting like they're trying to go for a Tony award in a notable revival of a classic production, they can be pretty out-there with a little bit of the uncanny valley mixed in. Not to mention, they can be also pretty laid-back and nonchalant; especially when dealing with villains trying for the umpteenth time to take over New York. Additionally, and not surprisingly, due to their background, they can be rather cynical and distrusting; however over the years they have been slowly but surely trying to look more at the bright side of things and give people the benefit of the doubt. However, God forbid you actually piss them off though, because that's when their sadistic side comes out. When that happens, you better pick a God and pray that they decide to kill you at all, let alone kill you quick...

Love Interest: Peter Parker

Bio: Renzo has never had the best time growing up. Born a "Seer" or otherwise known as a medium, they've always been able to see ghosts to their utter displeasure. However, they were the only one in their bio family that could see ghosts and thus was written off as an "insane" problem child by said family. Heavily medicated and then eventually abandoned after the death of their bio parents, Renzo was forced into the foster system at the age of 9. However that didn't last long, as Renzo eventually ran away and the then impressionable 10 year old fell into the clutches of Dr. Darius Titus Solomon and the Esoteric Cult of the Maverick. After being love-bombed to heck and back by Solomon due to their Seer "gifts," Renzo soon became enthralled with him and would literally do whatever Solomon wanted: including becoming an assassin for him.

However that all came to an end when Renzo found out that they were nothing more than a sacrifice and after inadvertently getting their revenge and unwanted new powers, they ran away to New York and became a part of the Parker Family. From there, they went to space, survived the snap, grieved their loss and ended up unexpectedly bonding with James "Bucky" Barnes and Natasha Romanoff. So much so, that a couple of years later after the Snap, Barnes and Romanoff (who ended up getting married themselves) adopted them, and then later on adopted RJ and then Kobik. Now years later, after helping to kick Thanos' ass, losing their memory of Peter and then regaining it; they're currently just trying to survive college and their internship at the Daily Globe, along with dealing with some "interesting" feelings concerning their best friend...

“Fun” Facts:

When they were formally adopted by Barnes and Romanoff, they decided to offer their new parents a chance to give them a middle name to help them better get a clean slate. Romanoff ended up deciding to use “Yelena” to honor her (still dusted at the time) sister, and thus Renzo officially became Renzo Yelena Barnes-Romanoff.

They are the absolute epitome of a theater kid and helped to run the drama club at Midtown High with an iron fist.

They were also surprisingly part of the Midtown High cheer squad and tended to do most of the acrobatic stunts when on the team.

They absolutely detest their mediumship and empath abilities due to making their early life a literal, living hell. It’s not fun when ghosts that only you can see have forgotten the meaning of “no” and try to turn you into their own personal “errand boy” after all. Especially when your own family thinks you’re insane and need to be institutionalized. Not to mention in terms of their empath abilities, it took a long, long time for them to finally get a hold of them. Before they would heavily get overwhelmed by other people’s emotions to the point that it would even influence their own. Though nowadays, if they’re not careful they can still get overwhelmed; especially in a crowd.

Going hand-in-hand with the previously mentioned empath powers: When Thanos first enacted the Snap, they could feel the devastating, vast loss of life in the same way Mantis could...

When they first escaped the Esoteric Order of the Maverick, they lived on the streets for a while trying to avoid any remaining members by constantly traveling. They were 12 when they came to Queens and ran into a sympathetic May Parker who after realizing that they had trauma-related to the foster system, made it her mission to coax Renzo into a stable home environment. It took her over 5 months but she and Peter were finally able to coax them into living with them.

For the longest time before the “Blip” they were basically known as “Parker’s weird, little ‘brother’.”

Has a petty feud with Peter over who’s taller. Back when they were 12, obviously Peter was taller, but then after the Blip, Renzo was the new reigning champ of height. However, during college Peter got a growth spurt and managed to get a couple of inches on them. To which, Renzo immediately used their shapeshifting powers to make them exactly 1 inch taller than Peter.

One of their most precious possessions is an old, black hoodie that Peter gave to them when they first met, after seeing the shivering, pre-teen, ex-assassin in the rain in an alley behind his and May’s apartment. It’s pretty much has become a comfort object for them and they even still wear it around their apartment sometimes to Peter’s surpise no matter how ratty it’s gotten. Even when they lost their memory of Peter, they still kept it and couldn’t bear to get rid of it, even if they couldn’t remember why exactly it was so important to them...

Another valuable possession of theirs was an old burner, flip phone that they had from their days in the cult that during the 2 years they lived with Peter and May became filled with pictures of them, Ned, and MJ. For the longest time it was a symbol of them overcoming their past as a killer and healing from it, and then during the 5 years after the “Blip,” it became a symbol of mourning for them. They ended up using it however on Vormir as a loophole since it was “something” they loved, by throwing it over the edge in order to prevent their mom from sacrificing herself.

Speaking of their time during the “Blip,” they ended up inadvertently going on a “revenge roadtrip” across the western United States with Barnes, Romanoff, Logan, Wade, W’Kabi, and a teenaged Dora Milaje in training called Thandiwe. Basically when they were 16, they found out to their horror, the Order was starting to gain power again, so they were trying to stomp out all of their hideouts during their summer break. At one of said hideouts they ran into Barnes and Romanoff who were trying to wipe out any Hydra remnants, W’Kabi (who was sent out as a War Dog as penance for his betrayal of T’Challa) and Thandiwe (who was also there to keep an eye on him) who were tracking down illegally trafficked vibranium, and Logan and a teenaged Wade, who were trying to get revenge on people in involved in the “Weapon X” program. There all of them found out that they were basically dealing with a “quadfecta” of evil, where the cult and hydra were working together with illegal vibranium and experimenting on mutants to create human weapons. From there they all decided to work together so they can all make sure that all factions of that network were taken down.

During this time, this was also where they, Barnes, and Romanoff first met Kobik, when they came across a mysterious town called “Pleasant Hill”...

For the 5 years after the “Blip” they also became “Night Spinner” as a way to honor Peter, where they even used Peter’s old, original, homemade Spider-Man hoodie. They felt that New York needed a Spider-Man and while they felt they were a poor replacement, they still felt that it was necessary. Stark even hooked up a version of Karen with their outfit too.

A 14 year old Renzo also was given Peter Quil’s zune by Rocket during the “Blip” years due to them reminding Rocket and Kraglin of Quil. During the time they were stranded in space waiting for a rescue with Stark and Nebula, Renzo found the zune and started using it a lot to distract themself. After recovering a bit when they got back to Earth, they tried giving it back to Rocket and Kraglin, who ended up telling them to keep it. For the next 5 years Renzo took care of it and was almost never seen without it Obviously when everyone came back after the final defeat of Thanos, Renzo gave the zune back to Quil; albeit with some extra future funk additions~

To their horror (well more like embarrassment and annoyance), they found out that they were the illegitimate nephew/niece (nephice? niecephew? we really need to come up with something gender neutral that’s not nibling) of Tony Stark when they were 20 during a routine medical checkup at the Avengers complex. Apparently Howard Stark had a bit too much fun in Mexico during the late 70s which ended up producing Renzo’s biological mother. Nobody in their bio family knew about it; not even their egg donor and their bio maternal grandmother took that secret with her to her grave.

Is basically (one-sided) sitcom nemeses with Blade due to the fact that Blade keeps killing all of the hot vampires that they kept trying to hook up with.

Currently has undiagnosed BPD [Borderline Personality Disorder]

Still has “Girls Nights” with Wade and a reluctant Peter.

Constantly gets harassed by KHAOS’ cult and their [KHAOS'] “children” who think that they’re “literally” KHAOS who’s just “playing one of their silly little games with them...”

Can be “bound” via very specific casting sigils/circles which are normally used to essentially put them in a “time out” where they can’t leave until the spell burns out.

Was unfortunately used by Peter to prevent a rage-filled Renzo from murdering Norman Osbourne after Peter spared him, and later prevent a despondent Renzo from stopping him having Strange erase everyone’s memory of him...

When they first went to Empire State University (at age 20 after taking a gap year or two) and still couldn’t remember Peter, they ironically got paired up with him (who after getting his GED and applying like crazy for student aid, scholarships, FAFSA, etc. was able to qualify for student housing) in the dorms. They didn’t understand why they had an immediate camaraderie with him, why Parker always seem to know what they liked, and why they liked spending time with him so much (nor why Parker always looked like he was in pain and about to cry whenever they were spending time together...)

Regained their memory of Peter when a second Spider-Verse event occurred and due to their stint as “Night Spinner” they technically counted as a “Spider-Person.” Peter had been kidnapped by the “Inheritors” and while spending time with Peter 2 and 3 who were confused as to why Renzo didn’t remember them and Peter 1, something in their mind snapped when they tried to think about certain things that didn’t make sense about their “roommate.” That was when after having the absolute worst headache of their life, they finally remembered who Peter was and was absolutely pissed that he went through with erasing their and everyone else’s memory of him. Basically after one-shoting of the Inheritors who were holding their Peter hostage, they initiated a fight with him out of feeling betrayed and the fact that it made them feel like Peter didn’t trust them enough. They did eventually make up though; though Peter had to deal with everyone else remembering who he was since Renzo brute-forcing through Strange’s spell helped MJ, Ned, Happy, and all of his other loved ones remember him. Well at least no one else remembered that he was Spider-man at least...)

While Peter, Ned and MJ went on the school trip to Europe, “lucky” Renzo and Mary-Beth got trapped within Westview and got to be “special guests” on Wandavision due to being in the wrong place and the wrong time (aka Renzo went with Mary-Beth to look at colleges in the Jersey area against their will and only intended to stop in Westview to get something to eat when Wanda had her mental breakdown). Strangely though, while both of them were still forced to follow Wanda’s unconscious machinations, they still retained more of their free will than other Wandavision “cast members”...

Obviously the universe that they occupy has a lot of things go differently than the main MCU universe. For example, instead of Bucky, Sam, and Shuri being one of the people dusted, Steve and Sarah Wilson get dusted instead and Shuri has to try and run Wakanda by herself without her brother nor her mother. Also Alexei doesn’t get dusted either and has to deal without having Melina and Yelena with him.

And since his sister got dusted while leaving her sons alone, Sam had to step up and move down to Louisiana to take care of his nephews (with Bucky and Nat becoming an honorary uncle and aunt).

Also Bucky and Tony managed to begrudgingly come to an understanding and while they’re not “friends” per say Tony doesn’t want to kill him anymore and doesn’t blame him for his parents deaths. He still wants to slap Rogers though...

Of course Bucky and Nat become closer and end up dating and eventually married.

Nat and Tony don’t die. Renzo uses a loophole on Voromir to prevent their mom from sacrificing herself and since Tony “shares’ the load of the Infinity Stones with Nebula (who was the one actually wearing the glove) and with a powered-up Renzo and Mary-Beth (basically another Seer who was a proxy to a slumbering eldritch creature: this time KHAOS’ counterpart: KOSMOS, who was the personification of order/ frenemy of Renzo). Tony still ended up in a coma for a couple of years, and Nebula almost died and was out of commission for a couple of months. Same with Renzo and Mary-Beth.

Also Sam and Steve get married as well when the Blip is reversed and Steve doesn’t go back in time to be with Peggy. Sam still becomes the new Captain America though, and Steve becomes the nephews' cool but dorky, Uncle Steve. Steve also basically becomes a “trophy husband” as he likes to joke and has full on retired but will still be an ornery, stubborn, bastard that tries to unionize everything and protest against injustice.

Extras:

Drawn Reference: https://www.deviantart.com/faint-requiem/art/MCU-OC-Renzo-Barnes-Revenant-937451201

Tumblr Tag: https://dolce-elegy.tumblr.com/tagged/renzo%20barnes

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0f5SO3CbQGkH9El9i4d9tb?si=f267a9dfd6d44fae

Pinterest Board: https://pin.it/66kniAC

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag @ocs-supporting-ocs @allaboutocs @multifandom-oc-hell @arrthurpendragon @fyeahocsofcolor @fyeahmarvelocs @marvelocsdaily @marveloccommunity

[wolfofwinchester]

❛ i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. ❜

&. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬. // accepting!

The grandmother's fingers stopped, rosemary resting partially twined in with blond curls and green ribbons. Then softly, she snorted and shook her head. ”You don't thank me for things like that.“ She continued on, braiding the herbs in with the flouncy twintails, lips ceasing their silent prayers. “Grandmothers are goin' to bring out what teeth left they have to keep their little ones safe. That includes you, pup.” A gentle pinch was given to Elizabeth's cheek.

”Do you want to talk about what happened?“

[aparticularbandit]

The Perfect Lie

Summary: After his father leaves, Brendan starts acting out at school, and Eve has to talk to him about everything.

Eve Fletcher & Brendan Fletcher Rating: G.

After Ted leaves, Eve breaks.

In the days that follow, Eve reaches for her phone multiple times with the intent to call her mother.  Then she remembers.  Then she takes a deep breath around the lump in her throat and slumps back against her headboard, fingers grasping sheets that she should have thrown away instead of just tossing them in the washer on sanitary cycle and assuming that the boiling hot water that actually does clean all of that shit away would also make her feel better about using them again.

They were her favorite sheets.  With everything else, Eve hadn’t wanted to get rid of them, too.  Hadn’t wanted him to take them, too, just like he’d taken—

It was such a small thing.  She should have been allowed to keep her small thing.

But no.

Brendan is eight years old.  He understands that his grandmama is dead, as much as he can, but he doesn’t understand why his dad can’t come home.  He doesn’t understand why his mom won’t let his dad come home, because whatever his dad did, surely she should be able to forgive him, shouldn’t she? And then when she won’t, he uses this an excuse to be mean and cruel to the other kids at school; if his mom doesn’t have to forgive his dad, then he shouldn’t have to forgive anyone either!  He throws rocks and cuts one of the other kids’ foreheads with one, and Eve gets called in to pick him up, and he won’t talk to her.

Ted volunteers to talk some sense into him, but if Eve had her way, Ted wouldn’t ever see Brendan again.  Except that…isn’t fair to Brendan.  It’s not like he did something wrong.  Unfortunately, she can’t punish Ted without punishing Brendan. (The worst of it is feeling like Ted would love to leave Brendan behind, too, and maybe the only reason he isn’t is because he still has to help pay for him, and Ted has never wanted to pay for something he couldn’t see or hold in his hand.)

Eventually, Eve takes him out for ice cream at his favorite shop, just the two of them.  Brendan sits on the chair across from her, and she can’t help but say, “You’ve grown so much,” because he has, even if he hasn’t noticed.  His feet still dangle above the ground, but they’re close enough that if he points his toes down, he can just brush the tip of his shoes across the floor.  He can almost cup the little children’s cup all in one hand now, not that he’d gotten one of those, and when he bites down into his rocky road chocolate chip mix, all she can see is the day he’d gotten one of his baby incisors stuck in the waffle cone.

He’s still her little boy, but he’s not her little boy anymore.

Eight years old and attacking other children with rocks.  Not really a little boy move.

Brendan doesn’t say anything to that comment anyway.  He just furrows his brow in the confused, annoyed way that children sometimes have, kicks his shoes in the air a few times, and takes another bite of his ice cream cone.  The bite is a little too big; ice cream rims his mouth, and Eve wants to reach across and rub it away with her thumb.  She won’t, though.  He would be embarrassed.  She doesn’t want to embarrass him.

It’s not why Eve doesn’t bring it up while he’s eating.  There’s nothing embarrassing about talking about things you shouldn’t do, but something tells her that having this discussion while he’s eating ice cream might make it feel like he’s being rewarded.  She doesn’t want to reward him; she just wants him not to feel as bad as he does.  He has to feel bad.  If he didn’t feel bad, he wouldn’t be hurting other kids.

So afterwards, when he’s cold from eating ice cream, they go for a walk in the brisk fall nearing winter air.  Thanksgiving is coming up, but Eve doesn’t want to think about that.  It doesn’t matter; she thinks about it anyway, thinks about the logistics of it, how Ted’s parents will probably want to see Brendan and throw that big Thanksgiving production they do every year, and Brendan will want to go, want to see his Memaw and Pepaw, and Eve will want nothing more than to say no.  It is selfish, really, to want to keep him all to herself when his grandparents hadn’t done anything wrong; it’s selfish and petty, and she won’t lie, part of it is revenge for how Ted treated her, so she won’t do it.

But another, bigger part of it, is that they used to split Thanksgivings – one year with Ted’s parents and one with her mom (as opposed to Christmases, where the day itself would just be the three of them, their little family, and then the week after would be going to both families and celebrating with each of them) – and that this year should have been her mother’s.  Would have been her mother’s.  And she doesn’t….

She doesn’t want to deal with that alone.

Ted still has his parents and his new…whatever she is and even Brendan, if and when he wants him, but Brendan is all Eve has.  She’s his mother.  She didn’t do anything wrong.  She feels like she’s going to lose him anyway.

This conversation isn’t going to help.

“Brendan, you know you can’t throw rocks at other kids,” Eve starts, hesitating as she says it, forcing herself through the awkwardness anyway.  She turns to him, sees how his hands are shoved into his windbreaker’s pockets and pulling them together even closer than the jacket really wants, crumpling it, scowl drawing lines across his young face, and he looks so much like his father in that moment that Eve’s heart pangs both with love for her son and instant hatred for the man who she doesn’t want to see reproduced on or in him.  “You hurt someone.”

Brendan just shrugs.  “You hurt Dad.”

It isn’t the same.  Eve wants to tell him it isn’t the same, and she wants him to understand that it isn’t the same, why it isn’t the same.  She takes a deep breath.  “I didn’t throw a rock at him.”

“You want to.”

Eve doesn’t deny that.  “I didn’t.”  That doesn’t really make things better.  “I’m not telling you to like the other kids, honey; I’m just telling you not to throw rocks at them.”  Then, knowing that Brendan is a child and will try to find loopholes just because she didn’t specify, “Or punch them.  Or kick them.  Or pull their hair or put gum in their hair or—”

“Fine, Mom, I got it.”  Brendan pulls his hands closer together, pulls the jacket pockets closer together, that slight rippling not quite plastic sound of the fabric.  The scowl stays on his face.

On instinct, Eve reaches across and tries to smooth his furrowed brow. “Relax.  If you keep your face like that, it’ll freeze.”

Brendan’s scowl deepens, brow furrowing further.  “Let it.”

“Brendan.”  Eve sighs and runs a hand through his fluffy brown hair. It’s about time for a haircut. It’s starting to curl around his ears. She struggles to think of a way to explain things as he pulls away from her gentle touch.  “Hey, um, you know your best friend?  Wade?”

“What about him?” Brendan asks, eyes widening in shock as he looks up at her. “You’re not going to do anything to him, are you?”

“No, no, no.  I would never—”  Eve shakes her head quickly.  It isn’t a bad example, she doesn’t think, but it requires him understanding that it’s an example and not…not a real thing that’s actually happening.  “If…if Wade ever…ever made you really mad and started avoiding you and hanging out with some kid you really hate—”

“Julian,” Brendan spits out in a near hiss, eyes narrowing.  Then he glares up at her.  “He would never do that.”

“Oh, I know, I know.”  Eve wants to look away from the force of his glare, but she doesn’t.  “But just…just say he did.  How would you feel?”

Brendan looks away, considering.  “I’d want to punch him in the face,” he says quietly.  “Throw rocks at him.  Fight him so he’d quit being a jerk.”

Eve nods slowly.  “And if you couldn’t do any of that?”

“I don’t know.”  Brendan shrugs.  “I’d be really sad.  And really mad.  I guess I’d have to make new friends.  Or a new best friend, if he never wanted to be friends again. I’d want to know what I did.  What Julian did to make him suddenly like him so much.  Maybe…Maybe I’d try to talk to him.”  His scowl drops, but his brow remains furrowed.  He repeats, “I don’t know.”

“Would you ever be able to forgive him?”

Brendan considers that, too.  “I don’t know.”  He looks up at his mom.  “Maybe I’d try to make friends with Julian, too, so we could all play together.”  His face twists in disgust.  “Probably not, though.  Julian’s a freak.”

For a moment, Eve gets distracted.  She doesn’t know this kid Brendan keeps bringing up – he’s never mentioned him before, not even once – and she doesn’t want to defend him so much as she wants to point out that it isn’t nice to call another kid a freak and maybe, just maybe, there’s something good about this Julian kid!  But that isn’t the point of this lesson, and she’s afraid if she goes down that rabbit trail, they’ll never get back to what he actually needs to understand.

“Your dad was my Wade,” Eve says, finally.  “More than that, because you and Wade would never—”

“Ew, gross—”

“—but he was my best friend.”  Eve doesn’t say that this isn’t entirely true, that she’d had another, better friend before Ted who maybe hadn’t done what Ted did but had…disappeared.  Broken her heart and then disappeared. She…shouldn’t be thinking of him right now.  “He was my best friend,” she repeats, voice lower, softer, and she feels her throat close up, feels the tears start to well up, but she has to finish this first. “And he decided he wanted a better friend.”

Brendan’s brow furrows.  “But he didn’t start avoiding you.  You avoided him.”

“If Wade…if he started hanging out with Julian and hanging out with you, how would you feel?”

“I’d make him choose!”  Brendan’s voice is dark, angry.  Maybe she’s pushed him too far with this analogy.  “He can’t be friends with both of us!”

Again, Eve has that feeling that she should correct that – because Wade should definitely be allowed to be friends with both of them – but she presses on anyway.  “Your dad didn’t choose me.”

Brendan looks up at her, his eyes wide again.  “Can’t you make him change his mind?”

“No.”  Eve shakes her head.  She doesn’t say that she’s not sure she wants that, not sure that she could get over that hurt even if he asked.  Not that he had.  Not that he wanted that.  In the end, that had made the split easier.  She doesn’t have to pretend, doesn’t have to try and smooth anything over.  He doesn’t want her anymore.  And she doesn’t have to pretend she wants him either.

“He still wants me, doesn’t he?”

Eve stops, then, and even though the ground is cold, she kneels down so that when she cup her son’s face and lies to him, she can stare him in the eye and make sure he believes her.  “Of course, he does, Brendan.  Your dad loves you.  No matter what he does, you are his son, and he will never choose someone else over you.”

Brendan sniffles, pulls one hand out of his pocket, and rubs his nose with its back.  “He should’ve picked you,” he says, finally, eyes slightly red.  “It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not.”  Eve runs a hand through Brendan’s hair again, pushing it back out of his face, but when she takes her hand back, it just flops forward again.  Definitely time for a haircut.  “But if I’m not throwing rocks at him, then you shouldn’t—”

Brendan nods.  “Okay. I won’t anymore.”  He bites his lower lip in an attempt to keep from crying, and then he throws his arms around her.  “I’ll choose you, Mom.”

Eve’s breath catches.  She doesn’t hesitate, but it takes her a moment before she realizes what’s happening. Then she wraps her arms around Brendan, buries her head in his shoulder, and tries very hard not to let herself cry.  She does anyway, drops that will roll off of his windbreaker because it’s made to deflect rain, and her tears are nowhere near as bad as rain.  It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not or if he changes his mind in the future or not.  It’s that he’s said it now, this time, and that means the world to her.

“I love you, Brendan.”

“I love you, too, Mom.”

~

Later that night, Eve catches Brendan sleeping on his stomach, head curved onto his pillow, one hand holding onto a now tearstained picture of his dad, keeping it half out from under the pillow and half under it.  She leans up against the doorframe and tries to smile fondly at him the way she used to do, but she can’t.  The aching hole in her heart yells and screams at the familiarity of this moment, at the way Ted should be stopping behind her, leaning down and kissing the top of her head, and saying they’d made a good kid, the way he had a hundred thousand times before this and should be doing a hundred thousand times after.

They had made a good kid.

It was just a shame that he wouldn’t be around to see it.

Eve wipes the tears from the corner of one eye, closes Brendan’s door, and then goes to her room, where she rips her favorite sheets off and replaces them with new sheets, much softer, much higher thread count, much better.  Maybe her new favorites, if she likes them enough.  Maybe good enough to forget the other ones ever existed.

[grandma-battle]

hello and welcome to the grandma battle! here your favorite grandmas will battle it out to see who’s the ultimate grandma! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

here are all of our competitors!

nana (luigi’s mansion) VS granny ethel (tumblr)

battle granny gertrude (tumblr) VS mamie (coline et colas)

abigail puckett (hoodwinked) VS toph (the legend of korra)

granny (once upon a time) VS suzi q joestar (jojo's bizarre adventure)

luisa castillo-flores (elena of avalor) VS bridgette mcguire (once and future)

granny (celeste game) VS abuela claudia (in the heights)

erina pendleton joestar (jojo's bizarre adventure) VS grandmama addams (the addams family)

ida manson (danny phantom) VS queen clarisse marie grimaldi renaldi (the princess diaries)

agathe/agatha (phantom spirits) VS seer (hollow knight)

 fairy godmother (shrek) VS gramma tala (moana)

tsubone (hunter x hunter) VS katara (the legend of korra)

daisy suchot (arthur and the invisibles) VS josefina ortiz/old woman josie (welcome to night vale)

gwendolyn clawthorne (the owl house) VS nana (madagascar)

evelyn (stardew valley) VS grandmother (the witches)

gran (the trouble with gran) VS granny (ice age)

sophie hatter (howl’s moving castle) VS pinako rockbell (fullmetal alchemist)

karin’s grandma (magia record) VS klara (saga)

grandma dowel (a long way from chicago) VS grandma (grandma got run over by a reindeer)

granny (loony toons) VS elvira duck (disney ducks)

yan lin (w.i.t.c.h) VS morri (critical role)

the polls will last one day, & i'll be posting two polls a day for now. a visual will be added soon, & i wish every granny the best of luck!

the first two polls will be posted at 8:00 tonight, EST

[elsalouisa]

George, Duke of York to Queen Victoria — 16 November — Anichkov Palace

"My dearest Grandmama

As Lord Carrington starts tonight direct for England, I will take this opportunity of sending you a few lines. I know that both Papa and Lord Carrington have continually written to you and kept you informed of what has been going on here, and so I did not write to you. I have written to May each day and we have been so busy that there is not much time for writing and several days I had barely time to finish my one letter, so I hope you will forgive me for not having written before.

It has indeed been a terribly sad time here; but the Wedding came like a gleam of sunshine in the midst of the deep mourning. Poor Aunt Minnie has indeed been brave and has borne her terrible grief in a wonderful way, Mama has been of the greatest possible help and comfort to her, I don’t know how she could have got on without her. Dear Alicky looked quite lovely at the Wedding, the Service was very fine and impressive and the singing quite beautiful, she went through it all with so much modesty but was so graceful and dignified at the same time, she certainly made a most excellent impression. I do think Nicky is a very lucky man to have got such a lovely and charming wife; and I must say I never saw two people more in love with each other or happier than they are. When they drove from the Winter Palace after the Wedding they got a tremendous reception and ovation from the large crowds in the streets, the cheering was most hearty and reminded me of England, an enormous crowd of several thousand people assembled in front of this Palace and cheered continuously from 3.0. till 8.0. The young couple showed themselves at the window several times.

Alicky got a great many lovely presents, I have never seen such jewellery, your charming locket was very much admired. Dear Nicky was most touched by your making him Col. in Chief of the Scots Greys, and it was the Regiment he admired more than any other, when he was at Aldershot this year, he is quite delighted about it. | know your giving him this Regiment has made a most excellent effect here.

The weather unfortunately has been bad, very cold with snow and rain alternately and no frost at all, | am disappointed as I wanted so much to see St Petersburg with snow and ice. I must say I have never been treated anywhere with so much kindness and civility as here from everyone I have met. This is the first time I have been to Russia, I certainly have got a most excellent impression of the people and the country. Uncle Alfred and Aunt Marie leave here tonight, the former for England and the latter for Coburg. Nicky has been kindness itself to me, he is the same dear boy he has always been to me, and talks to me quite openly on every subject. It is really quite touching to see the charming way he treats dear Aunt Minnie; and he does everything so quietly and nicely and naturally; everyone is struck by it, and he is very popular already. I am so glad that May, sisters and our Baby are with you at Windsor now, and that you are going to keep them with you till Papa and I arrive on the 6th.

I am so looking forward to seeing you and them all again. We leave next Sunday and shall spend one day with Aunt Vicky in Berlin. God bless you dearest Grandmama with love to all and hoping to see you very soon.

I remain ever your most devoted and dutiful grandson Georgie".

[voidsentprinces]

Donald Duck, Sunny D, Tampico, Capri-Sun Orange couch, plastic wrap, what's happening re-run Oak frame hologram Jesus portrait Brown shag carpet, broken screen door to the back porch Tykes in the toilet gurgle every six minutes like clock-work Grandfather's clock not working Great grandmama's Crock Pot chocked full of stew meat 'Who, me?' said a speech bubble on a dog on a Sunday morning comic Clipped and stuck up to the fridge with big chip bag magnet Big chips stacked in the armoire Behind glass, where the dominoes and the Bicycle cards are And the thick, yellow and crystal tumblers One sits on the table With a single ice cube melting into a thimble full of Jack Daniels The telephone receiver hangs Swingin' by the cord And the front door is swingin' Wide open, accordingly And that big block engine turnin' over in the Caprice That's peelin' out of the driveway, lettin' the tires

schreech