#deserve that for having done 'things wrong')

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review from @zyafics

guess who has to be studying for another exam but instead she needs to catch up on this fic? (this girl) little annotations below ⬇️

Or the next. You couldn’t. Every time you picked up one of the stupid boxes, your heart would drop to the pits of hell and your hands would start sweating. You’d shove it back in the drawer like it could disappear if you just ignored it hard enough.

manifest it girlypop

What if it was positive? Then what? The thought of seeing his name pop up on your phone after you blocked him, or worse, hearing her voice if she picked up...you’d rather die. He didn't deserve to know.

i eat up any scenes where she wants nothing to do with him and he barges into her life and finds out all the things he's been missing out? the angst of not being able to go backward in time no matter how much you regret it

You heard that voice in your head, the one that sounded like your mom, at least what you remembered from watching old videos.

i would burst out in tears

Your younger cousin, Topper the bitching backstabber, had been born and raised in Los Angeles before he moved to Figure 8 when he was five. 

i was like why r we bringing up topper's bitch ass here and then i realized it to put in a frame of reference that she couldn't possibly know topper's birth bc he moved to kildare later. i just thought reader needed to put in a quick jab about topper 😭

You weren’t exactly the picture of health. What if you weren’t strong enough? What if something went wrong, and you ended up in a hospital bed, alone, because Rafe sure as fuck wouldn’t be there. It was just you.

i love the spiral of madness. i'm reading (and analyzing) it and i'm so so amazed by how ur structure descends. it flows so smoothly - from one topic to the next - all at a great pace and with a lot of internal turmoil. it builds up to me feeling everything reader feels.

It hit you just how ironic this was. You were sitting here, freaking out about being possibly pregnant, scrolling through nightmare stories about abortion and pregnancy complications, while Lily was talking about a fundraiser for children’s health. Kids. It felt like some twisted repulsive joke the universe was playing on you.

ugh, i love the parallels between her being (potentially) pregnant and the idea that she has to wrap her life around this foundation for children.

The fucking nerve. To your gala. Your blood boiled instantly, your fingers gripping the phone so tight you almost cracked the screen.

i love her i feel like she inches closer to insanity every day and i, too, feel the same

If Rafe wanted to play games, you’d ruin his life if you had to. He thought he could fuck you over, leave you with all this—leave you with nothing? No. You weren’t going to let him have that power.

like i said

You were shaking now, but it almost felt good. Even if it was just a stupid guest list. Let him find out when he got there and there was no table for him. No seat. No fucking room. 

BABES 😭 YOU'RE CARRYING HIS CHILD oh this is too good, the idea that she wants to erase him from her life and leave no space for him (mind), but her body is accommodating spacefor his child, making her reserve a permanent space for him in her life

Every year. He’d sit with you while you struggled through every word, telling you it was okay to take your time, reminding you that you didn’t have to do it if you didn’t want to. And when the gala came, he was always by your side, standing just off stage, waiting for you after the speech was done. You’d run into his arms, and he’d whisper that you 'did great baby', holding you until the room stopped spinning so much.

i fear i would crash out if i am currently stressed with the idea of being pregnant and remembering my ex bf and remembering my lost parents

If he thought you were weak, if he thought he could break you, if he thought you were the same girl who used to cling to him like he was the only thing keeping you together—he was wrong.You were going to do this without him.

my boss baby!!!

There was a sigh on the other end, the sound of him trying to not to lose his patentience, like he was the one in the right here. Typical Topper. Always wanting to smooth things over, play peacemaker between you and Rafe, like this was just another fight you’d get over.

topper, in the words of reader, a bitching BACKSTABBER

“Maybe what? That he could swoop in and save the day?” You let out a bitter laugh. “He’s not your golden boy, Top. He doesn’t fix anything. He ruins things.”

ugh i love ur dialogues sosososo much

You were having a meltdown, and he’d stepped in, like he always did when you went off the rails. That was the problem with him—he cared, even when you didn’t want him to. He was family, the only family you had left, and he was too loyal for his own good.

so fuck his parents then ig

You sat down, staring at the stick in your hand. This was insane. You were insane. Who the fuck took a pregnancy test ten minutes before they’re supposed to host a charity gala? 

apparently me

There it was.

+

💌 — aaaaaaaaaa, i'm so glad i waited until after my exam to read this and truly experience the gift of ur writing. i love the juxtaposition and parallels in this scene! especially with her deleting rafe from the gala's list, erasing space from him in her life, but having his child grow inside of her. i love love how she has to have a gala for children—and crippling over the current dilemma of whether she has a child herself. and i love that she's very isolated in a sense, because it amplifies how this child can truly make or break her. topper was so enjoyable—especially their conversation. u always write dialogues so smoothly!! honestly, i thought this scene would end with rafe showing up unannounced at the gala, haha but ig we'll see in next chapter

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - TWO

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of possible pregnancy, of abortion, of pregnancy risks & death. self-loathing. chapter one

You lied.

You didn’t take the tests the next day.

Or the next. You couldn’t. Every time you picked up one of the stupid boxes, your heart would drop to the pits of hell and your hands would start sweating. You’d shove it back in the drawer like it could disappear if you just ignored it hard enough.

Once you knew, you knew. 

There was no more pretending as if nothing happened.

No more pretending like you didn't care that Rafe moved on like he didn’t just dump you, with no real closure and ran to the next girl he found. 

Fuck, why did he have to look so happy that night? He got to be carefree, living his perfect little life with her, and you were there, sitting on the bathroom floor, too scared to even pee on a stick.

What if it was positive? Then what? The thought of seeing his name pop up on your phone after you blocked him, or worse, hearing her voice if she picked up...you’d rather die. He didn't deserve to know.

He didn't deserve anything from you anymore.

You started googling abortion clinics before you even touched the tests. You could afford it. That wasn’t even the issue.

You had more money than you knew what to do with. Your inheritance was just sitting there. You could book a flight tomorrow, pay for whatever procedure, whatever it took—fly out of state, out of the country, if you had to. 

But that wasn’t the point. It has never been about the money. It was the overwhelming shame. The fear. The realization that Rafe might have left you, but he was still there, stuck in your head, in your body, in your fucking life. Even when he wasn’t.  

He didn’t have to worry about any of this. He was most likely out on the boat, not even thinking about you. Not thinking about what he did to you. 

And you— you were left with this. Sitting on a bathroom floor for hours a day, trying to figure out how you were supposed to make a decision that changed everything.

You started looking up clinics again, scrolling through the options, but your mind was barely even there. It was legal in North Carolina for now, but you read something about the 12-week ban they passed in June, and suddenly you were spiraling one more time, wondering how much time you even had. 

Could you wait? Could you put it off like you’d been putting off the tests, like if you waited long enough, maybe the problem would just... disappear? Shit, wouldn’t that be easier?

You heard that voice in your head, the one that sounded like your mom, at least what you remembered from watching old videos.

It was depressing how life didn’t let you hold tightly to your memories sometimes. She always reminded you of the kind of person you were supposed to be. The type of girl who had her shit together. The type of girl who didn’t get herself into situations like this, in the first place.

But instead, you were the girl who lost everything—the life you were supposed to have—and somehow, you’d still found a way to screw up what was left.

You kept scrolling like you couldn’t stop.

One page led to another, and soon you weren’t just looking up clinics—you were looking up everything. 

What happened during the procedure, how long it took, the side effects, the complications. You read horror stories about infections, about women who thought it was over and then bled for weeks, about people who changed their minds too late.

You even looked up what could happen if you didn’t get an abortion—what pregnancy could do to your body. And that was a whole other rabbit hole you didn’t need to go down. Your body changing, your hormones going insane. You thought about your boobs getting sore, your stomach stretching, the possibility of throwing up every morning, and it felt like your body was already betraying you. And then you read the serious stuff—gestational diabetes, preeclampsia, all these words you didn’t even know existed before that night. There was a minefield of things that could go wrong, things that would go wrong.

Complications. Risks. Dangers.

You read about women who almost died in labor. About miscarriages and stillbirths and the trauma of carrying a baby for months, only to lose it. You never even thought about that, how pregnancy wasn’t just this smooth, magical process people make it out to be. It was brutal. But you’d been the little sister, you never saw your mother go through it, or anyone for that matter.

Your younger cousin, Topper the bitching backstabber, had been born and raised in Los Angeles before he moved to Figure 8 when he was five. 

You were terrified—not just of being pregnant, but of what it meant to stay pregnant. Would your body even handle it? You’d always lived off coffee and takeout half the time. An unreasonable amout of parties. Too many drinks some nights.

You weren’t exactly the picture of health. What if you weren’t strong enough? What if something went wrong, and you ended up in a hospital bed, alone, because Rafe sure as fuck wouldn’t be there. It was just you.

For a second there, you thought you might pass out.

You’d thrown your phone across the room, it hit the wall with a thud, but it didn’t help. The anxiety was still there, vibrating under your skin, making you want to scream. You glanced at the bathroom drawer again, where the pregnancy tests were hidden like some cursed thing.

Maybe you should’ve just taken one.

Rip off the bandaid.

The stupid phone rang, like was having fun pissing you off, vibrating on the floor where you’d thrown it. You stared at it for a second, debating if you should even pick it up. You didn’t feel like dealing with anyone, especially not whoever was about to ask something from you.

But it kept ringing, and of course, it was a number you recognized—Lily, one of the coordinators from your dad’s foundation. Shit. You forgot about the gala. Again. The one that was happening in two freaking days, the one you haven’t even thought about preparing for.

You swiped to answer, “Yeah?”

“Hey, I didn’t want to bother you, but we need to go over the final details for the gala,” She greeted you, sounding way too perky for how you were feeling. “I really need your input on the seating arrangements, and the auction items, and—”

It hit you just how ironic this was. You were sitting here, freaking out about being possibly pregnant, scrolling through nightmare stories about abortion and pregnancy complications, while Lily was talking about a fundraiser for children’s health. Kids. It felt like some twisted repulsive joke the universe was playing on you.

You blinked back into the conversation, realizing she still talking, and you hadn’t said a word. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I’ve been busy. Can you just handle it?” you muttered, feeling guilty but not enough to actually deal with any of it.

“I’ve already taken care of most things,” she said carefully, “but we really need your approval on the final guest list and the speech. You’re the face of the foundation, after all.”

The face of the foundation. The legacy your dad left you. It was supposed to be this huge responsibility. And it was. You’d always taken it seriously. The one thing in your life you never ruined. But this year, you hadn’t written the speech yet. Jesus, you forgot it was even happening. And the guest list? No clue.

You rubbed your forehead, “I’ll look at it later. Just send it over.”

Lily hesitated again, probably sensing that something was off, you'd always been a control freak. “Okay, I’ll email it to you. Just let me know by tomorrow, alright?”

“Yeah, sure.”

You hung up before she could add anything else, staring at the ceiling. One more thing. One more responsibility piled on top of everything else. You were drowning in all these expectations—being the good daughter to dead parents, the responsible one, the perfect kook girl who was supposed to have everything. You were supposed to be the girl who had the trust fund, the perfect life, the foundation that helped kids in need.

You earned to be her.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with an email notification. You rolled your eyes, already knowing it was from Lily. She’d sent over the guest list, and you groaned, thinking you’d skim it, give it a half-assed glance, and send it back. But as you scrolled down the names, you stopped.

Rafe Cameron.

Of course, he was going to be there. Why wouldn’t he? His family had been involved in your dad’s foundation for years. It was like you couldn’t escape him.

The fucking nerve. To your gala. Your blood boiled instantly, your fingers gripping the phone so tight you almost cracked the screen.

Fuck him. 

If he thought he could just show up and rub his new life in your face, he had another thing coming. Without thinking twice, you deleted his name, erasing him like he didn’t even exist. And then, without checking another name, you sent the list back to Lily.

You didn’t give a shit if it was petty. You didn’t care if it wasn’t professional.

If Rafe wanted to play games, you’d ruin his life if you had to. He thought he could fuck you over, leave you with all this—leave you with nothing? No. You weren’t going to let him have that power.

Not over this. Not over you.

You were shaking now, but it almost felt good. Even if it was just a stupid guest list. Let him find out when he got there and there was no table for him. No seat. No fucking room. 

You still sat there staring at the screen with that stupid blinking cursor. The email from Lily sat open in front of you, and somewhere buried in the list of attachments was the speech. Blank.

Your speech—the one you were supposed to read at the gala in two days. The one you hadn’t even started writing.

This was always the hardest part. Writing it. Saying it. You used to cry every time. Standing in front of all those people, talking about your dad, your family, how the foundation was this beautiful way of keeping their memory alive. It was never just a speech—it was like ripping your heart out of your chest and letting everyone see it, year after year. It never got easier.

But Rafe, used to be there with you.

Every year. He’d sit with you while you struggled through every word, telling you it was okay to take your time, reminding you that you didn’t have to do it if you didn’t want to. And when the gala came, he was always by your side, standing just off stage, waiting for you after the speech was done. You’d run into his arms, and he’d whisper that you 'did great baby', holding you until the room stopped spinning so much.

You could still hear his voice in your head sometimes, 'you’re stronger than you think'.

That’s what he always said, even when you didn’t believe it. He’d hold you, kiss your forehead, and make you feel like it was true, like you really could get through it. He was always so sure of you. But this year? He wasn’t going to be there. He’d stop believing the lies he fed you. You were angry. You were seething. You were utterly alone.

You’d been avoiding this moment—writing.

This time around, it wasn’t just about the speech. It was about the fact that when you walked out of that stage, you wouldn’t have him waiting for you.

You’d step down into nothingness, with no one to catch you.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, but they wouldn’t move. What were you even supposed to say this year? How were you supposed to stand up in front of all those people and talk about love and family and legacy when yours was shattered?

You hated looking at yourself in the mirror, feeling like you’d lost every single piece of who you used to be.

Fuck the speech. Fuck the gala. Fuck Rafe Cameron and his stupid lies, his stupid smile, his stupid promises that he never kept.  

If he thought you were weak, if he thought he could break you, if he thought you were the same girl who used to cling to him like he was the only thing keeping you together—he was wrong.

You were going to do this without him.

You were going to stand up there and give that speech, no matter how much it hurt. And if it killed you, so be it. You’d still do it.

Because unlike him, you didn’t just walk away from the things that mattered. Even if it tore you apart. Even if it was killing you to keep pretending like you were fine. You weren’t fine. But you’d fake it. You’d fake it until the whole world believed it. 

You’d barely hit send on the email when your phone rang again, and this time it wasn’t Lily.

It was Topper. You hadn’t talked to him since that night—the night. The party where you’d found out, where you’d seen Rafe and Sofia together for the first time. Where you realized that everyone knew.

How he’d called Rafe over, like you needed him to fix it, like he was still yours to rely on.

“What?”

“Hey…” Topper’s voice was cautious, “I, uh, I wanted to call and apologize for the other night.”

You snorted, leaning your head back against the wall. “Yeah? For what part? For calling Rafe like his little bitch or for getting in front of my car when I was trying to leave?”

“I didn’t mean to fuck things up. I was just trying to stop you from doing something stupid.”

“Like what?” you snapped. “Leaving the party? Getting out of there before I had to watch him with her for one more second? Yeah, Top, real dumb of me.”

“You almost ran me over,” Topper shot back, his voice rising just a little, like he was offended you hadn’t mentioned that part. “Kinda felt like maybe you weren’t thinking straight.”

“You jumped in front of the car you fucking idiot. What the hell did you expect me to do? Slam on the brakes and listen to whatever bullshit you and Rafe had to say? Because trust me, ’m all out of patience for either of you.”

There was a sigh on the other end, the sound of him trying to not to lose his patentience, like he was the one in the right here. Typical Topper. Always wanting to smooth things over, play peacemaker between you and Rafe, like this was just another fight you’d get over.

He never really got it.

“Look,” Your cousin started, calmer this time, “I didn’t mean to call him. I just thought—”

“You always think calling him will fix things,” you cut in, “Like he’s the answer to every problem I have. He’s not. Not anymore.”

“I get that,” He added quickly, like he was afraid you’d hang up. “But I didn’t know what else to do! You were upset, and I thought maybe—”

“Maybe what? That he could swoop in and save the day?” You let out a bitter laugh. “He’s not your golden boy, Top. He doesn’t fix anything. He ruins things.”

Topper went quiet for a second, probably trying to figure out how to respond without setting you off on an angry rant again. “I get it,” he said finally, “You’re pissed at him. You have every right to be. But I didn’t call him to hurt you, okay? I was worried about you.”

You hated how genuine he sounded, hated that he meant well. He was a nuisance half of the time, sure, but he wasn’t malicious. He never was. He just had terrible judgment. 

“Next time, don’t,” you muttered, rubbing a hand over your face. “I don’t need you playing little brother and calling him when things go wrong."

“I wasn’t trying to clean anything up,” Topper explained, a little defensive now. “I just didn’t want you driving like that. You were upset.”

You rolled your eyes. “Upset doesn’t mean I need you or Rafe deciding what’s best for me. I’m not a kid.”

“You’re not,” he agreed, “But you weren’t exactly in a great headspace, so yeah, I stopped you. I wasn’t gonna let you leave like that and end up in a ditch somewhere.”

It hurt like a bitch, because deep down, you knew Topper had a point.

You were having a meltdown, and he’d stepped in, like he always did when you went off the rails. That was the problem with him—he cared, even when you didn’t want him to. He was family, the only family you had left, and he was too loyal for his own good.

“You could’ve told me,” you confessed what had been upsetting you, your voice losing some of its initial attitude. “About them. Instead of letting me walk into that party blind.”

Topper sighed again, “I should’ve,” he admitted. “I didn’t want you to find out like that. But it wasn’t my place to say anything. And I didn’t want to make things worse.”

Your hand instinctively moved to cup your stomach. You didn’t even realize you were doing it at first, but the second your fingers touched your shirt, the earlier panic welled up inside you again. If he only knew how bad things were. How bad they could get. You yanked your hand away like you’d been burned, heart hammering against your ribs most painfully. There was no way you could even begin to explain what was going on inside your head—or your body.

Not to Topper. Not to anyone. If he knew, he’d freak and you didn’t need that right now.

You clenched your jaw, pushing yourself to focus on the conversation, on Topper still yammering on about apologies and guilt You shook your head, a bitter smile tugging at your lips. 

“Are you even listening?”

“Unfortunately,” You sounded apathetic even to yourself, fingers tapping against the phone, agitated. “Look, Top, I don’t have time for this right now. I’m busy.”

He sighed. “I know you’re pissed, okay? I get it. But the gala’s in, like, two days. You... you still going, right?”

“Of course I’m going,” you scowled, barely able to hide the bitterness in your voice. “I have to. It’s not like I can just dip out and pretend it’s not happening.”

Unlike some people, you thought, but you bit your tongue.

“Good, because I’ll be there too. And I—”

“Oh, joy,” you interrupted, “Another chance for you to babysit me and make sure I don’t make a scene? Can’t wait.”

“Jesus, I’m just trying to help!” Topper groaned. “I didn’t want to make things worse the other night. I—”

“Yeah. Whatever, I’ll see you at the gala.”

You hung up. You didn’t have the patience to deal with him right now. 

The day of the gala came faster than you thought it would.

It was like you blinked, and suddenly, you were standing in the middle of the venue, walking through final checks with Lily, nodding along as she rattled off details you barely absorbed.

The room was all glitz and glamour, with chandeliers dripping from the ceiling, and everything draped in the foundation’s signature gold and white. 

Crisp tablecloths. Flowers in perfect, elegant arrangements. Waiters in black-tie uniforms were circulating, making sure everything looked flawless. Flawless.

That word made you want to gag.

You moved through the space like a ghost, smiling at the right moments, giving half-hearted approvals when needed.  You didn’t care. People were running around, asking for your opinion on this or that. You’d stayed at the venue longer than planned, making sure everything was in order, but your mind was stuck in that floating-place. You wanted to burn the whole thing down, if you were being honest.

You should’ve called your doctor. Days ago. Hell, maybe weeks ago.

Making smart choices wasn’t your thing lately, was it?

When you finally slipped into the room where they’d set up your glam team, you just wanted to sleep. The room itself was a suite off to the side of the venue, a private space meant to make you feel like royalty.

A massive mirror ran across one wall, surrounded by soft, glowing lights. A table was set up with everything—hair tools, makeup brushes, palettes, serums. Bottles of champagne sat chilled in the corner, the condensation dripping down the glass, untouched. It was the kind of place you were supposed to feel special in.

Normally you did. But this year you were numb.

The stylist worked quietly on your hair, soft curls falling into place as she tugged and pinned each section with meticulous care. The makeup artist was dabbing foundation onto your skin, blending and contouring until you didn’t even recognize yourself in the mirror. The dress hung behind you, a shimmering white gown, custom-designed by Versace for the occasion.

You looked like you were stepping into one of those perfect, glamorous lives. But on the inside, you felt like you were going to lose it at any second. You nodded along, giving tight-lipped smiles when they complimented you, and then they finally left.

The room was dead silent now, just you and your reflection. You stood in front of the mirror, staring at yourself, the perfect curls, the glowy skin, the gown waiting behind you. It all felt wrong. It felt fake. You didn’t bear a resemblance to yourself.

You looked like the version of you that the world expected—the untouchable girl. A doll.

Your rifled through your bag for your phone, but instead, your fingers brushed something else. Cold, hard. 

You hadn’t even realized it was in there.

One of the pregnancy tests. You must’ve thrown it in without thinking earlier that morning when you were rushing out the door. You hadn’t even noticed it until now.

What the fuck were you doing?

You had a gala to host in less than an hour. People were going to be looking at you, waiting for you to give the speech, expecting you to hold everything together like always. And there you were, standing in a private dressing room, about to do something so monumentally stupid. Maybe it was the pressure of tonight, or maybe it was the anger you’d been shoving down for weeks, but suddenly, you didn’t care.

You were going to do it.

Without even thinking, you stormed into the bathroom. You were so fucking tired of avoiding this. Tired of pretending like everything was fine, like you were fine.

What the hell was fine about any of this? You tore open the box, hands trembling as you pulled out the test. The room was so quiet, you could hear every little sound—your breath still uneven, the rustle of your dress against the tiles, the click of the test cap as you flicked it off.

You sat down, staring at the stick in your hand. This was insane. You were insane. Who the fuck took a pregnancy test ten minutes before they’re supposed to host a charity gala? 

You couldn’t get a proper breath out as you waited, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might rip your chest open. You leaned against the sink, gripping the edge. Your stomach churned, the nausea rising again, and you had to close your eyes to stop the floor from spinning.

What if it was positive? What if it wasn’t?

You stared at the test, willing the result to appear, but it didn’t. Not yet. The little window stayed blank, as if taunting you, making you feel like you were losing your mind. You knew you had to wait longer. You weren’t stupid. You’d read those instructions a million times by now, but you hated waiting.

Hated not knowing.

You couldn’t take your eyes off the stupid little piece of plastic. Just one line or two. That was all it came down to. One fucking line or two, and your entire life would either fall apart or what? Be fine?

You glanced at the mirror, catching another glimpse of yourself, and it almost startled you—your eyes were wild. Desperate. They were the eyes of someone who was just about ready to do anything to get this over with. 

You tried to picture telling him again, but the idea alone made you sick. You thought of Sofia, of her perfect smile next to his, and bile rose in your throat. Your hands never stopped shaking. You wanted to run. You wanted to throw that thing in the garbage can and never stare at it again.

Your thoughts spun in circles, going nowhere, just making everything worse. The clock on your phone ticked louder and louder, and you knew—somewhere out there, everyone was getting ready. Guests were arriving. The gala would start soon, and they’d all be waiting for you. Watching you. Expecting you to be the poised, perfect version of yourself you’d spent your whole life pretending to be.

And you were in here, trying not to lose your fucking mind.

You peeked back at it. Still nothing.

No line. No answer.

It felt like you were suspended in time. You closed your eyes, gripping the sink harder, praying for it to end—something to happen, anything.

Then finally, you felt it in your chest—a heavy, sinking feeling, like the moment before a fall.

You opened your eyes. 

There it was.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbbyy @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[solradguy]

I do think Sol has every right to throw Asuka into a wall as few times but I also ask for your proposed reason for why Sol would be making a big ass rocket to vist him. /gen

Oh, you know...

I genuinely don't know what else Sol could possibly be planning to do other than finish what he vowed to do at the end of Begin and at least once in almost every game release before and since haha

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Anything for You - Pt 5 Final

daemon x daughter!reader 

Previous Parts

Summary: Over the years you fill the halls of Dragonstone with children and live content and happy. Something both you and Daemon never would’ve thought possible.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, pregnant!reader, lactation kink, breeding kink, public, oral(f), p in v, time skips, birth

Authors Note: literally just soft, devoted, loving, and caring daddy daemon to finish this series off 

Word Count: 6k

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ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

6 moons after Part 4

I’m silently humming in the maesters chambers as he looks over me. Aelon is softly cooing in Daemon's lap and I turn my head to watch them with a smile. The maester pulls my dress back down and looks at me deep in thought. I turn my attention back to him and tilt my head. 

“Is there anything different about this pregnancy, princess? Do you feel any different?” I chew on my lip mulling over his words. 

“Maybe even more content than the first? We’ve had no issues with lying guards and boats.” I chuckle but my father doesn’t seem to find the jest amusing. “I feel like my bump is bigger than it was when I started my labors with Aelon.” I bring my hand to my stomach and rub my hands over it lovingly. 

“I had the same thought.” the maester hums. “I’ve done this many times with many women.” he nods at me and Daemon. “Princess, I believe you’re carrying twins.” a smile spreads across my face at his confirmation. I’ve had the same thought for moons now but I didn’t want to express it aloud. 

“Are you positive?” Daemon’s voice is filled with hope. 

“As positive as I can be, my Prince.” the maester nods with a smile. 

“We are getting more efficient.” Daemon stands with Aelon and comes to my side to brush my hair back. “Twins.” he hums, bringing his hand down to my swollen stomach. 

My father helps me up from the bed and Aelon wiggles into my arms. We make our way out of the maesters chambers and my handmaidens pad over to my side and whisk Aelon away for his nap. Daemon slips his fingers into mine and walks me out to the gardens. The soft breeze kisses my skin and I lean into Daemon's side. 

“I know you want for them to both be boys, but I hope for one of them to be a girl. Just one. Then I’ll get back to making your army.” I smile up at him and he chuckles. 

“We shall see what the Gods grant us.” he presses his lips to my brow and leads me over to a table. He takes a seat across from me and he stares at me with a soft smile. “You look like the Mother made flesh. You’re glowing and so calm and at ease.” he reaches across the table for one of my hands as a blush creeps up my neck. 

“It’s thanks to you. You care for me so thoroughly there’s nothing I want or need for.” I hum. 

“I’d do anything you ask of me, sweet girl. Nothing would be too much.” he leans back in his chair and looks me over. 

“Well since I’m carrying two babes..” I trail off nibbling my lip. 

“Yes?” he nods his head, smirking. 

“I think I deserve two new necklaces.” I purse my lips and he chuckles. 

“Just two necklaces?” he raises his brows. “I was expecting more.” he hums. 

“Well I could also use some new gowns. Maybe some new hair pieces.” I look up thinking of more. “Oh, and maybe some new earrings and-“ 

“Sweet girl.” my eyes snap back to his at his tone. 

“Yes, daddy?” I bat my eyelashes and he groans. 

“Do not start with that.” he tries to hide his smile. 

“With what?” I tilt my head. 

“Your little innocent facade.” he gestures to me. 

“I don’t know what you mean?” I pout. 

“Mm,” he looks me over with a smirk. 

“So will you not get me what I asked for?” I push my lower lip out and he chuckles. “If not, it seems as if I married the wrong man.” he is on his feet the moment the words leave my mouth. 

“I’m going to have to travel to get you these things you desire.” he tilts my chin up. “It will take me time and it’s not my wish to leave you. Especially in the state you’re in.” his hand rests against my bump. 

“So I don’t get any gifts?” I blink up at him with a soft pout and he exhales, shaking his head. 

“How about I let you take anything you please from the family vaults?” he tries to compromise. 

“I don’t want swords and weapons.” I frown. 

“There are gowns and jewels down there too.” I hold up my hand and he chuckles, grabbing it and helping me stand up. 

He leads us back into the castle and down a set of stairs I haven't explored yet. He grabs a torch from the wall as he leads down yet another set of stairs going slowly monitoring my every step. Once we reach the bottom he grabs my hand and leads me down the dark hall. The deeper we walk into the vaults the closer I lean into my father. The air starts to cool and I crane my neck as we stand in front of large obsidian doors. He pushes the doors open and leads me inside, shining the torch around. 

I gasp walking over to a table and lift the necklace up. I point at the jewels I like and my father nods and adds it into a bag he brought. I continue to pick up pieces of jewelry and hand them to Daemon who accepts piece after piece. When we finally make it to the gowns a frown forms on my face. I trace my fingers over the fabric. I’m sure these were once beautiful gowns worn by Queens but they’re just..

“These are terribly outdated.” my father barks out a laugh. “The fabric is scratchy. They’re not pretty enough for me. I like silk and flowing fabrics. Not this stiff, old..” I scrunch my nose. 

“Then I shall have seamstresses and fabrics brought to us.” he kisses my brow. “I’ll send word across the realm for jewelers to bring their best for my sweet girl.” I smile up at him. 

“Thank you, daddy.” I reach up to pull his lips down to mine. 

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2 moons later 

I pout from our bed as my father holds my hand while the maester finishes up the exam. I look down at my massive bump that I know longer have the energy to carry around. Daemon carries me around our chambers and sees to most of my needs waving off my handmaidens. The maester pulls my gown back down and looks up at us with a reassuring smile. 

“It is almost time, Princess. Maybe a fortnight now. How are you feeling?” he looks over my scrunched face. 

“I want these babes out of me.” I sniffle. “I want to go to the garden. I want to be able to walk on my own.” a tear slips down my face and my father is quick to wipe it away. 

“I know this time is much different than the first but you’re still doing great.” the maester nods. “Even in this state you’re still my best patient.” he smiles and escorts himself out of our chambers. 

“I can take you down to the gardens, sweet girl.” Daemon hums, brushing my hair back. 

“It’s not the same.” I whine. “I don’t feel pretty and graceful like I did the first time.” my lip wobbles as I start to cry again. “These candles smell awful. The snacks they brought me were dry. My breasts are so full I’m sure they’re going to burst any day now.” I gasp as a sob tears through me. “I just- I just,” I start to cry harder and he slips into bed with me. 

“Tell daddy what you need.” he holds me closer, wiping away my tears.

“I need you.” my voice small as I pull him closer. 

“I’m right here.” he reassures. “I’m going to go blow out the candles. Then I’m going to tell the guard to tell them to start preparing our dinner. Then I will be back in bed with you.” I nod watching him go about his tasks. 

I watch him walk around our chambers as the tears continue to pour down my face. I pull the blankets up to me and cling to them. He blows out the last of the candles and throws them out into the hall with hushed words to the guards. He shuts the door behind him and walks back over to me. He slowly pulls the blankets from me and I frown up at him. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t worshiped you enough, sweet girl.” He starts to lift off my dress and I let my eyes flutter shut at the relief of being free of the fabric no matter how soft. 

He lifts one of my legs and presses his lips against my ankle and makes his way up my leg before starting over on my other. He showers my bump with attention and soft words as I look down at him with glassy eyes. He grabs my hand and kisses each fingertip and my palm before offering the same treatment to my wrists and the rest of my arm. He repeats this process again on my other arm and looks down at me with such devotion it causes my heart to ache. 

“Can daddy help you with these?” his hands softly engulf my breasts pulling a whimper from me. 

“Please daddy, please,” I beg nodding my head. 

He dips his head down and slowly laps at one of my nipples. My fingers bury themselves in his hair, softly stroking and tugging as he starts to suck more intensely. I feel the familiar feeling of relief as my milk is slowly being released. His hands wrap on either side of my waist as he continues to lick and nibble. He presses his lips across my chest to my other nipple and I sigh holding him closer as my relief washes through me. 

“Thank you,” I sniffle and he opens his eyes and looks up at me as he continues to lick against me.

He stays attached to my chest silently alternating between my breasts. I sink back into the pillows as presses his lips slowly up to my neck. He kisses and sucks across my throat before kissing up my jaw. His lips fall against mine and I sigh into him as he allows me to kiss him for as long as I please. 

“I can see why Aelon drinks so much.” he mumbles against my lips. A smile forms on my face as I let out a small giggle. “There’s your smile.” he nuzzles into my neck, holding me tightly. 

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twins birth 

I groan, rubbing my eyes awake before blinking around our dark chambers. My hand grabs my bump as a wave of pressure washes through me. I slowly shake my father awake and he’s sitting up in bed looking over me. 

“What’s wrong, sweet girl?” he brushes my hair back.

“The babes are coming. Go get the maesters.” he jumps up and tells the guard to wake the maesters and midwives. 

Daemon rushes around our chambers quickly lighting candles and throwing more wood into our hearth. There’s a quick succession of knocks and the maester and the midwives pour into our chambers with more candles. My father grabs towels for the bed and goes over to the wardrobe to grab the two blankets I picked out for our babes. I watch as he rustles around the bottom of our wardrobe and pulls out a box. 

“What’s that?” I scrunch my brows looking at him. 

“I had an after birth dress made for you. The finest silk, in your favorite color.” I look up to him with glossy eyes. 

“I love you.” I look up to him and he cups my cheeks and presses a kiss to my lips. 

“I love you.” he hums and stands back. 

The maester comes to the bed and begins his checks. The midwives come to my side and help soothe me. My father curls into the bed next to me and I grab his hand. The pressure and the waves of pain become closer together and a low groan comes from my mouth. 

“It’s time.” I nod and in moments I’m swarmed with hands and bodies. 

My first push steals the breath from me but the following pushes send adrenaline through me. My father smooths my hair as I softly curse before there’s a slight release of pressure. I hear the soft cry and I go to reach for my babe but the pressure starts once more. Some tears trickle down my cheeks and my father wipes them away and whispers words of praise as I start pushing once more. My body now used to the pain and the pressure starts pushing once more. It takes less effort than my first babe and with a cry from me my second babe comes out and lets out a loud cry.

The midwives flock around me and wipe my face and fan me off while my father is ushered down to cut the cords. He wraps the babes in the blankets and brings them over to me. Tears pour down my face as I look at our fresh babes. I look up to him and see that he’s also shedding a couple tears. 

“You did so good, sweet girl.” he rests one of the babes in my arms and lays down next to me with the other. “I’m sorry that you didn’t get your girl.” his voice soft. 

“Two more little boys.” I chuckle slowly trailing my finger across their brows. 

The midwives whirl around our chambers cleaning up and we hand the babes off to them to be cleaned and checked over more thoroughly. My father helps me up and my grip on his arm has my knuckles going white. I nod at him to keep going and he helps me change into the new dress. 

“Princess, I wish you would rest.” the maester clicks his tongue. 

“I will.” I glare at him as I slowly walk back to the bed with fresh towels. 

Daemon helps me lay back and presses his lips against my brows again. He gets into the bed next to me once more and the midwives bring our babes back over to us. I adjust the top of my dress and bring the babes to my chest. My father helps hold one of the babes as they latch onto me. The midwives and master filter out of the room switching places with my awaiting handmaidens. 

“Is there anything we can bring you, Princess?” they ask, looking at my babes with love.

I ask for a couple drinks and snacks and they’re back in moments before leaving me and Daemon to bond with our new babes. There’s a quick knock and my father tells them to enter with annoyance. My handmaiden brings in Aelon and he wiggles out of her arms and reaches for us. Daemon nestles the babe in my arms and gets up and brings Aelon over to us. 

“My family.” Daemon smiles crawling back into bed with Aelon. 

“What shall we name these two?” I hum looking to the babe on my right who has unlatched and fallen asleep. 

“I’d like to name this one Maelor.” he hums, brushing the babes hair that is still suckling at me. “You choose his.” he nods at me. 

“You shall be my sweet little, Aemon.” I coo, pressing my lips to the sleeping babe in my arms. 

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2 years later - Aelon’s second name day

I smooth my gown and admire myself in the mirror. I watch as my handmaiden places my necklaces and cuffs while another offers me different earrings. I smile when I hear my father walking through the doors. He comes to stand behind me and looks over my form. He wraps his hands around my waist and my handmaidens quietly excuse themselves from our chambers. His hands start to travel up to my breasts and I bat them away turning to him with pursed lips. 

“Later. Aelons name day celebrations are to begin soon.” I grab his arm and start to tug him out of our chambers. 

A smile blooms across my features as I take in the decorations in the great hall. Streamers and flowers are spread across almost every surface and the hearths are lit causing a warmth to spread throughout the hall. I hear Aelon giggling and I turn seeing him running to me followed by two more carrying my other boys. 

“Oh look at all of my little boys.” I coo peppering them with kisses. “How have they been?” I look over the ladies and they smile saying they’ve been perfect little princes. 

Daemon starts to lead me to the dais and the ladies follow behind and take seats at a small table behind us and fuss over the twins. Aelon sits in my lap and grabs for Daemon who offers him his fingers to play with. The doors groan open and the King and his family walk through and make their way to us. 

“Let us see this growing Prince.” the King smiles and I bring Aelon down to him. “As handsome as I remember.” his eyes twinkle before he makes his way up to the steps. 

The hall slowly begins to fill with the visitors from across the realm excited to get a glimpse at the inside of Dragonstone. Soft music begins to echo throughout the hall and servants rush in with food and drinks. Aelon charges wildly between the tables giggling as he passes visiting Lords and Lady’s. I watch with a soft smile as my handmaidens chase after him until he jumps up on the dais underneath the table and looks up at me and Daemon. 

“Come here you little beast.” Daemon scoops him up and he tries to wiggle out of his arms. 

“No more or you won’t be allowed to have cake.” I whisper to Aelon who pouts and sits in Daemon's lap. 

“Imagine once the twins can run around with him.” Daemon chucks and I take a generous sip of wine. 

“Then you’ll be running after them.” he smiles at me and pats my thigh. 

The rest of the celebrations carry on and everyone comes up to our table to see Aelon. Aelon ends up sneaking off the dais and when I find him he’s at the table near the servants eating cake by the plate. I rise from my chair sighing before making my way over to him. I scoop him up and bring him back to the table with his frosting covered face and I turn to Daemon who is trying to hide his laughter. 

The celebration goes long into the night and I was half tempted to feign an illness to retire to our chambers early. My handmaidens have long ago taken the children to bed and all that’s left in the hall is the King and Queen. 

“You two have really turned this cold rock into a home.” the King says with wine slurred words. 

“Husband.” the Queen hisses. 

“No, he’s right enough.” I offer her a soft smile which she sheepishly returns. 

“I had figured you would have more children in these halls by now.” the King raises his brows to Daemon. 

“We’re working on it.” I chuckle while sipping my wine as Daemon places his hand on my thigh.  

We continue to talk and the Queen hushes the King after almost everything that comes out of his mouth. Daemon continues to chuckle and his hand on my thigh squeezes softly. His touch a promise of what’s to come once were sealed behind the doors to our chambers. The King finishes his glass of wine and exhales deeply. The Queen excuses them from the hall leaving us alone. 

“Get up on this table.” Daemons words low. 

“The servants will be-“

“Waiting outside until we leave to start cleaning.” he raises a brow. “Be a good girl and sit on this table and serve yourself to daddy.” my cheeks flush as I start to push my chair back. 

He pulls me in front of him and I look down at him. I lean down and press my lips against his. His kiss is slow and sensual. He slowly pulls back, lifting me up and placing me on the table. He takes his time pulling my skirts up as I look at him with an intense need. I gasp as he quickly pulls my small clothes aside and dips down. 

Daemon licks at me with fervor and I catch myself from falling back on the table. My teeth dig into my lip as he swirls around my bud. A small squeak drops from my mouth as he pushes two fingers in. I claw into the wood when his fingers curl and my legs shake. Moans slip past my lips and I give up trying to be quiet and let the obscene sounds pour out. The louder I get the faster his tongue and fingers move. 

“Daddy,” I whine, feeling my high approaching. “Please, daddy,” I gasp as my hips start to jerk. My pleasure pours out of me and he groans into me before coming out from beneath my skirts. He looks at my heaving chest with a smirk and stands and helps me off the table. 

“Let’s go back to our chambers.” he hums, pulling me out of the hall. 

“There’s somewhere else I want to go.” I lick my lips looking up at him. His eyes light up as he nods at me to lead the way. I lead him through the halls and he lets out a soft chuckle as I pull him into the hall that has our house seat and he looks down at me with a smirk. I tug him over to the seat and push on his chest for him to sit. He sits back and spreads his legs looking up at me with an amused smile. 

“This is a surprise, sweet girl.” he hums, holding his hands out for mine. I feel more wetness pool between my thighs at the sight of him relaxed and leaning back. His tongue darts across his lower lip as his eyes roam all over me.

“I thought you'd have taken me here by now.” I take small steps to put myself between his legs and he watches my every move. 

“How long have you thought about this?” his hands grab at my waist, softly squeezing. He pulls me closer and looks up to me with hungry eyes.

“A while now.” my voice barely a whisper. “I want you buried inside me on our house seat. Make my moans echo throughout the hall. Fill me.” the last words a plea. 

A low groan comes from his lips as he removes his hands from my waist and starts to unlace his trousers and I start lifting my skirts. His length bobs up against him and he pulls me onto his lap. My knees find a home on the cold stone on either side of him. He lines himself up and sheaths himself inside me quickly. I start bouncing quickly and his hips start to snap up into me. His fingers dig into my waist and I let my head rest against his shoulder as we chase our highs together. 

“You’re so fucking indecent. Begging me to breed this sweet cunt. Ask me nicely and I will.” he grunts as I whimper above him. 

“Daddy,” I gasp as he takes control of all of the movements. “Fill me, breed me, please, please,” I gasp and his palm lands against my cheek under my skirts. His fingers dig into my tender flesh and I moan loudly. 

“That’s it, good girl.” he chuckles watching as my head falls back. “Squeezing my cock so tightly.” he grunts and my pleasure slams through me with a loud cry of his name. He continues to rut up into me and I whine as I feel him start to fill me. He keeps pushing up causing us both to tremble with extra pleasure. 

“Thank you, daddy,” I whimper before capturing his lips once more. He pulls me off of him and we situate our clothes before making our way back to our chambers where we stay tangled together for the rest of the night.

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5 years later - Aelon 7 - Maelor & Aemon 6 - Rhaela 5

I’m smiling at my daughter in the mirror of my vanity as I brush her beautiful silver hair. Everyday I thank the Gods for giving me my precious little girl, Rhaela. She pulls open my drawers and holds up a necklace and looks at me with her round eyes. I grab it from her hands and place it around her neck before I go back to brushing her hair. 

“What about this one? Can I wear this one too?” I chuckle, grabbing another necklace from her. 

“Of course.” I him clasping it around her neck. I tie the top of her hair back and leave the rest flowing before I offer her my hand. 

“Are we going to the gardens?” she grabs my hand and pulls me to the doors. 

“We are.” I pull the doors open for us. “We have to check on the flowers you're growing.” she lets go of my hand and starts to sprint down the hall. 

“Not too far.” I call after her with a smile. She waits for me at the end of the hall and we begin to descend the steps. Once we step outside the warm air kisses us as a greeting. She tugs me forward again and into her little garden. 

“Look,” she coos plucking a flower. 

“We should leave them to keep growing.” I hum looking at the flower in her hand. 

“I’m sorry.” her smile drops. 

“It's okay,” I nod. “We can bring this to go show your brothers.” her smile starts to form again and she nods quickly. She places the flower in her pocket and I stay kneeled on the stone with her as we look at her growing plants. I rise and lead her into the main gardens and lean down to her. “We can pick the flowers in here.” I whisper. “Aelon used to pick them all the time as a babe.” she looks at me with wide eyes. 

“Really? Which ones were his favorites?” she looks around. I lead her over to the lily’s and she smiles, bending the stem so she can smell it. “Can I bring him one?” she asks with a sheepish smile. 

“I think he’d love that.” I nod and she plucks it from the stem and shoves it in her pocket. 

“Can we give it to him now?” I look down at her with a smile as she jumps with excitement.

“You don’t want to go to our bench today?” she shakes her head pulling me out of the gardens. I follow her and she pulls me over to the training area and she peeks around the corner watching them. “Go on. I’m right behind you.” I encourage and she starts to walk across the sands. 

“It’s my turn to use fathers sword.” Maelor yells at Aelon. 

“You can’t even hold its weight.” Aelon yells back. 

“I can too.” Maelor charges at Aelon. 

I look at Daemon who says a few hushed words and they’re huffing and apologizing to each other. I look around the beach to find Aemon and see him along the shore collecting small rocks and shells. He is such a tender boy, has no taste for training and weaponry. Daemon invites him nonetheless and on days when he declines I love it when he joins me and Rhaela in the gardens. 

“Aelon,” Rhaela shouts running through the sands to him. “Mother said these were your favorite.” she pants, digging through her pocket. I watch as she takes out the crumpled flower and Aelon looks down at it with scrunched brows. 

“What do you want me to do with this?” Aelon looks at the lily in her hands and she frowns. 

“Aelon,” I scold and he sighs dramatically. 

“Thank you, Rhaela.” he picks the flower out of her hand and shoves it in his pocket. 

“Mother, look.” Aemon comes running up to me. 

“What do you have for me today, hm?” I smile squatting down. 

“Just some rocks.” his voice small as he blinks up at me. 

“Oh no, these are special rocks.” I coo, taking a couple from his hands. “See this one?” I point to one of them. “This one has been here since the days of Aegon the Conqueror.” his eyes light up. 

“Really?” he picks it out of my palm. “It’s that old?” he holds the rock up in the sun and examines it. 

“It is.” I hum. “And this one.” I point to the next one. “Has been here long before the moon and stars.” he looks up at me with wonder. 

“No.” he looks up at me with pursed lips. 

“Yes.” I nod with a smile. 

“Father.” Aemon calls Daemon over to us as I softly chuckle. 

“What is it?” he lifts Aemon up into his arms. 

“Mother says this has been here since before the moon and stars.” he points to the rock I’m holding and I look to Daemon. 

“She’s right.” he nods, plucking the stone from my fingers. I watch with a smile as he goes on talking about the stone and Aemon listens to his every word. He offers the stone to Aemon once more and plops him back on the sand. We lean against each other watching our children flock together on the shores of our home. 

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2 years later 

I hold back my chuckles as our kids run around our chambers. They’ve been fighting about who gets to hold the babe next. I gave birth over half a year ago but their love for him has only grown. The second he opened up his violet eyes I felt my heart grow even more. 

“It’s my turn to hold Vaegon.” Aelon pouts standing above Rhaela. 

“You’ll upset him you beast.” Rhaela waves him off. 

“You’re a beast.” Aelon hisses at her and she sticks her tongue out at him. 

“It’s my turn anyways.” Maelor purses his lips. 

“No, it's my turn.” Aemon says with a frown. 

“Okay okay,” Daemon sighs standing. “The four of you out.” he takes Vaegon into his arms and passes him to the awaiting handmaiden. He shoos our children out with the other handmaidens and turns back to me with a smile. “I forget how quickly our army can take over our chambers.” he chuckles, walking over to me in my chaise. 

“That they do.” my face warms with a smile. “I love them so much. I love you so much.” I reach for his hand and he twines our fingers. I tug him down onto the chaise with me and he chuckles against my lips. “Should we have a couple more?” he pulls back and looks at me with a raised brow. “I’m getting old, I’m quickly approaching thirty years, husband.” he barks out a laugh. 

“Old.” he shakes his head. “You don’t look a day over twenty.” I roll my eyes playfully at his words. 

“We’ve been wed for over ten years now, you needn’t sweet talk me.” he leans down. 

“Oh but I like the way you blush and squirm when I do, sweet girl.” he lowers his body to mine. “I’ll never tire of it.” he places his lips on mine softly. “You truly want another babe already?” he searches my eyes. 

“I would like to so Vaegon can grow with someone his age.” I nod. 

He lifts himself off of me and offers me his hand and begins to lead me over to the bed. His lips press against mine and start to trail up my jaw. The laces to my gown are softly pulled and my dress slips down my body. My slip is lifted over my head at the same leisurely pace and his hands lay me back gently. His soft touches make my skin feel like it’s on fire and I whine when he stands back. 

He smirks at me as he starts to pull his clothes off. I reach out for him to return to me and he’s crawling into our bed on top of me. I lean up and bring my lips to his and we let our tongues continue the slow dance our fingers started. His fingers tease down my center pulling a whine from me and he begins to kiss down my neck. His fingers find my bud and swirl against it and my fingers dig into his back. 

“I love that you always want to stay swollen with my child. Such a good girl. Always such a good girl for me.” his voice husky as one of his fingers dip down to my pooling wetness and dips it in. He lets out a low chuckle, “Your greedy little cunt is already squeezing my finger.” 

“Please,” I gasp softly as he slowly starts to pump his finger while keeping his thumb circling my bud. He pushes another finger into me and the sounds of my wetness grow louder along with my whimpers. He licks across my chest as I feel my stomach start to coil. “Yes, daddy,” I cry out feeling my high slam through me. 

He pulls his fingers out and I look down watching him spread my wetness over his length before filling me completely. He slowly pulls out with a smile on his face as I squirm beneath him. When he pushes back in it’s not faster and the feeling of the stretch has my toes curling. He continues with this slow pace as soft whines pour from my lips. 

“I’ll never tire of the feel of you, sweet girl.” he presses his forehead against mine. I wrap my arms and legs around him and he starts a slow rhythm. We rock our hips together letting out soft curses and each other's name. My pleasure washes over me with a cry of his name. “I love you, sweet girl.” he rasps as he fills me with his. 

ততততততততততততততত���ততততততততততততততততততত

10 years later

I watch with tear filled eyes as my eldest son and my only daughter share their vows. Daemon holds me against his side as he smiles down at me cupping my face. Memories of our wedding flood my mind and I reach up to press my lips against his. We turn our attention back to our children as they look at us with wide smiles. 

Over the years I’ve been blessed with seven children. Raising every one of them has been a privilege and Daemon has been devoted to every single one of them. We’ve raised them to be honorable and brave and I’ve been so proud of the accomplishments they’ve achieved. 

I never would’ve dreamed that my desire for this all those years ago would actually come to fruition. I never imagined I could ever be so content and at ease. The halls of my home are filled with warmth and love. There’s nothing more I could ever want for.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

um wtf this was supposed to be a one shot and now it’s ending after 6 chaps 🧎🏼‍♀️ thank you so much to everyone who saw the vision and went on this journey with me 🥰 manifesting a daddy daemon for all of us 💞

anything for you tag: @mamawiggers1980

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @arya-brooke @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @moonymoo1 @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme @multilover19 @alexxavicry @cedstars @fuckalrighty @mrsmunson-harrington @misspendragonsworld @nz2004 @ninihrtss

[jojotichakorn]

i started penning a post about how i always find it narratively unsatisfying when an arc ends with a conclusion the following arc breaks, regardless of how realistic the repetition of the same mistake might be, which is still true, but i actually want to talk about something else right now.

i feel like, at least at this stage, jack is in a position that is both generally unrealistic and untrue to the specific events of the series. 'jack and joker' has a clear focus on poverty and money and class issues, but it seems to treat jack in a very special way. he somehow manages to stand on the moral high ground above other characters. specifically, other poor characters. which is, first of all, a little ridiculous, since he was indeed a debt collector and, in fact, almost became the boss's son. and, second of all, is generally Not Great, because it does idolise the idea that if you "just try hard enough", you won't "allow" yourself to be backed into a corner and therefore won't have to do bad things.

now, don't get me wrong, i am not saying that our characters who have made mistakes are completely blameless. tattoo did shitty things (and hoy followed suit), safe did shitty things, hope frankly admitted to enjoying doing shitty things. however, if we zoom out a little, we will see that all these characters are in a situation that is inherently unfair to them. we have all of these poor people in immense amounts of debt and then we have this disgusting rich motherfucker whose entire wealth is literally based on making their lives as miserable and unfair as they are. and i think that, in this particular case, the series would have actually benefited from a dichotomy. don't get me wrong, i'm usually absolutely brimming with nuance and also asking "what lies outside of it?" but this shall be my exception. (though you could say that joke already brings some nuance to it - he is initially from a well-off family and he actively makes choices to the benefit of poor people, despite it resulting in him being ostracised from said family and its riches).

jack walks the line of being poor and managing not to do anything "too bad" like he is a fucking circus performer on a wire. and, don't get me wrong, he is genuinely a selfless character. he makes choices that a lot of other characters in the same circumstances wouldn't make. he remains in debt and continues working for the boss because he keeps trying to help people and pay off their debts first - that is admirable. however, he himself was already set up for more success than others. sure, being forced to become a debt collector isn't a walk in the park, but most other debtors didn't even have that choice. jack has to work for the boss in order to stay afloat - that is an undeniably hard task. the other people the boss collects debts from, however, have to come up with a lot of money out of thin air - that is not simply a hard task, that is an impossible one that is designed to trap them in the cycle of doing this impossible task forever. that being said, ultimately, jack is still poor. his own hamster wheel should be somewhere around the corner, that's always the case. this idea is where i wish they would have taken jack's arc.

from the moment when he refused to marry rose, there was no escape for him. finally, much like our other poor characters, he found himself stuck between a rock and a hard place. (and i think that it's very thematically appropriate for jack's particular "i can't do this anymore, i deserve to live a full life" sentiment to be connected to love, since he is, after all, a lead of a romance drama). he made the decision to say "no" and from that point on, he was completely and utterly fucked. because, realistically, that conversation that he had with the boss after refusing rose was insane. i don't know what he would have done to jack exactly, if that was a genuine conversation and there was no exchange of jack's freedom for the ring, but it would not have been anything good.

so i wish jack had to make the actual tough call there, instead of having joke save him all on his own (and later take the fall for it). and if it was, at least in some capacity, jack's decision to steal that ring, he would finally be placed in a situation where every other poor character already inevitably found themselves in. because the entire system is rigged against all of them and they are eventually always forced to do things that they should have never even had to consider in the first place. but they deserve better than living a life set up for them by evil rich people who literally live off of their suffering and they are allowed - no, at some point they simply have no choice but to - fight for a better life.

this, in my opinion, would have been a much more powerful message and - not to circle back to my personal preferences - would have also not left us with joke making the very same mistake that we decided we should never make again at the end of the previous arc.

[teapot-of-tyrahn]

TUMBLR USER STELLOCCHIA UR SO RIGHT.

"[the social game] is what i'm best at, cleo! i don't survive 'till the end by actually fighting people - people just don't want to fight me!" (scott, wild life ep2, 19:02-07).

scott asked her to apologise because he loves pearl. because wanted to protect her the best way he knew how. because this is a game of social manipulation, a game gem has been ACTIVELY twisting against pearl - gem’s trying to villainize pearl in the exact same way ren villainized her in double life. scott’s trying to protect pearl from gem turning the entire server against her - because they can fight back with fire, sure, they could trap her, they could murder her, but that would only give gem more fuel to turn everyone against pearl. in the situation gem’s set up? killing her, hunting her down… that’s what she wants. she literally put a target on her skin. gem wants pearl to kill her - that would be letting her win. it would be playing right into her’ hands. it would give her just cause to tell the server that she’s wicked, that she’s a demoness, that she needs to die. and scott’s not going to let her doom his teammate. not while he can help it.

and even ADDING to ur last comment - he actually offered the life right away!! while she was on yellow!! he was ready to give it right then and there, pearl was the one insisting they wait ‘till she was red because didn’t want to take scott’s life until it was absolutely neccesary!! which i think make’s mumbo’s “if they really loved you they’d give you a life” spiel a LOT funnier because the FIRST thing scott did this session was like “PEARL U SHOULD MURDER ME”!!

“if they really loved you, they’d give you a life!” it was a jab meant to try to pull their team apart. that’s what mumbo had intended it as, anyway. but with the context? with knowing scott already offered?

all mumbo told pearl was that scott really loved her.

The way people act like Scott is such an awful teammate for wanting Pearl to apologize to Gem just shows me that a lot of people will just do anything to demonize him without trying to understand jack shit.

So, guys, I'll spell it out:

SCOTT ISN'T GOOD AT PVP OR TRAPS

He can't rely on those skills, and yet he always makes it really far into the series. Ever wondered why? Because he excels at the social game. He knows how to stay friendly with people.

That's how he keeps himself alive.

It goes without saying that the only way he knows how to keep his allies safe as well (aside from sacrificing himself for them) is to keep them in everyone's good graces. That is most likely why he's been trying (and succeed) to smooth things over between Gem and Pearl. It isn't betrayal, it isn't a matter of him siding with Gem, or liking her more than Pearl (weirdchamp kind of assumption to make that last one, we literally don't know them), it's just the only way he knows how to keep Pearl alive. And considering how much she's been dying this season, I understand why he's prioritizing her over Impulse.

Add to that the fact that Gem is also good at the social game AND she's great at PvP AND in an alliance with someone who always hates Scott's gut in literally every season, is also good at PvP and is extremely volatile, and yeah. They're not good enemies to have. Especially not so early on. We're still on episode 4 and Gem and Joel are still dark green, this is the time to befriend them so the Final Girls won't be the first people they turn on when they drop to red.

Also, just saying, but if Scott didn't care for Pearl he wouldn't have offered to give her a life as soon as she turns red.

[momentsbeforemass]

Forgiveness is hard

Forgiveness is hard.

And the reason why it’s hard says a lot about us.

Because there’s something in us that likes to hold on to the wrongs that have been done to us. Not that we want to be hurt again by whatever it was that needs to be forgiven (although that’s what holding on to it does to us).

But because we can use being on the receiving end of something that needs to be forgiven as leverage, as an excuse.

Now we’ve got a reason why things didn’t work out. Why what we always wanted to do didn’t happen. Why we never quite did it.

We were going to. We would have done it. But then it happened, whatever it was that needs to be forgiven.

Even if we never consciously say any of that, until we forgive. Until we let go of it. Part of us will be acting as if we believed every word of it.

Let me be clear - I’m not talking about ignoring the things that have hurt you.

When you and I are hurt, we need to deal with what hurt us. Grieve what was lost. Clean up the mess. Get help.

What I’m talking about is taking the thing that hurt you, whatever it was that needs to be forgiven, and holding on to it. Dragging it out time and again. Revisiting it. Reliving it.

And by unthinkingly replaying it over and over, moving into that event (one that, with a moment’s thought, you would never intentionally revisit again) and buying furniture.

Even if we don’t mean to, holding onto whatever it was that needs to be forgiven, is one of the most effective ways to isolate ourselves.

To become lost in the thing that hurt us, will, in the end, separate us from everyone. Including God.

Which is why Jesus is so adamant in today’s Gospel about the need to forgive.

Not because whoever it was who hurt you deserves, well, anything.

But because God loves you too much to want anything – or anyone – to keep hurting you. Including you.

Today’s Readings

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

* **FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.

Masterlist

The Shower Scene

Noah leaned over the sink, watching intently in the mirror as the razor glided across his skin. The pitter-patter of the shower the only sound in the bathroom, broken every so often as water splashed. He had lost track of how many times they'd done exactly this. One of them in the shower while the other did whatever they needed to. And every single time he had to fight tooth and nail not to sneak a peek. Friends weren't exactly supposed to want to see the other one naked. But damn it, he couldn't help it.

With a groan he leaned down, rinsing the remaining shaving cream from his face. Friends also didn't sleep in the same bed more than half the time. Or cuddle the way him and Quinn did. They sure as shit didn't get jealous every time one of them went out on a date. She had such shitty taste in men, too. All of them absolute tools that left her disappointed at the end of every date. Yet she still went back. It made zero sense.

Her phone on the counter lit up. A quick glance and he wanted to vomit. Here she was, getting ready for another date with another boring asshole that if he even made it past the first date would disappoint her, again, by the end of the second or third. What the fuck was she doing wasting her time with these idiots?

"Noah? Can you pass me my towel?"

Noah paused for a moment, wondering just what would happen if he said no. If he made her get out and get her towel herself. It was tempting. Maybe a little too tempting. Resigning himself he grabbed her towel off the rack, passing it through the shower curtain to her.

"Got any plans tonight?" He knew the answer, but fuck it, why not torture himself and hear her say it?

"Yeah." She stepped out of the shower, wrapped up in her towel. "Got a date."

Biting back the words that so desperately wanted to escape he moved aside and leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. He watched her as she applied her leave-in conditioner. Watched as she wiped her hands on her towel before she picked up her phone. Ignored the pit in his stomach as she responded to whatever the douchebag had said.

"You deserve better."

"You don't even know him, Noah."

"Don't have to. You have fucking terrible taste in men." Noah's eyes widened. He hadn't meant to say that. "I'm sorry. Fuck. I shouldn't have said that."

Quinn laughed. Actually laughed. But it wasn't her usual laugh. He could hear the pain hiding behind it. What the fuck was wrong with him?

"Yes, you did. It's okay, though. You're not wrong. Just look at how we met." Her eyes met his in the mirror. "I would like to get dressed now, if you don't mind."

Noah stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. Of course he had meant it, but he hadn't meant to actually say it. She didn't need to tell him that his words had stung. He could hear it in her voice. See it in the way she looked at him through the mirror.

"I'm just tired of seeing you hurt when they all inevitably do the same stupid shit. I love you, terror pixie." He bent down, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

"I love you, too, Bigfoot."

She grinned, her eyes crinkling at the corners. At least she was smiling again. With a weary sigh he reached up, ruffling her hair before darting out of the bathroom. Part of him, real deep down, knew that if he had just asked her to cancel. To stay home with him, she would have, no questions asked. But that would be selfish. Who knows? Maybe this guy wasn't a total douchebag. And maybe he would turn out to be the love of her life. The thought made him physically ill.

Noah burst into Jolly's room, quickly closing the door behind him. Jolly merely looked up from the book he was reading, an eyebrow arched.

"Lemme guess. Another date tonight?"

"Yeah. And we all know how it's gonna go. Gonna need all of you to get lost for a while."

[daesdivination]

𓂃 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗡𝗘𝗘𝗗 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗡𝗢𝗪 ✧

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𓈒 ◌ ‎ ‎ something you need or want (to hear) right now.

notes/disclaimer: a general what you need or want to hear right now! struggled thinking of a topic to do a reading about, so here this is. cuz, i think that everyone should have a sort of little message from the cards about what they might need right now. take what resonates and what doesn't!

⎯⎯ 𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘

seven of pentacles. it embodies perseverance.

what can the seven of pentacles mean? : it can mean things coming to fruition, hard work paying off, harvest, rewards, profits, results, pay-outs, manifestation of ideas or goals, inheritance, cultivation, growing, gestation, nurturing, perseverance, patience, planning, reviewing, taking stock, questioning, crossroads, approaching retirement, and finishing what you started.

you are doing the absolute best you can right now and i admire that for you. you’re very hard worker and it’s so easy to see, especially as the seven of pentacles come out, i think you’re a very structured person but you actually don’t know how hard you work for your goals and that’s frustrating. i can see that you have a lot of dreams and a lot of goals that you want to achieve and you put your entire self your entire mind into that. however, you question yourself and you have doubt when it comes to your skills. you shouldn’t doubt yourself, not at all! you’re amazing and you have all the abilities to achieve everything you want.

even so, i think you might be challenged when it comes to motivation to reach your goals and what i have to say to that is that when you actually want something, you have to persevere through it. you can’t just stop doing whatever it is that you’re doing and expect to get better at it, you have to really work for it and that goes into everything in your life. by pushing self doubt away, you'll be able to reap the rewards that you deserve and have been working so hard for.

you have everything you need to achieve your goals, you just have to put your mind to it. your self doubt is the only thing that’s harming you from getting what you want and i’m here to tell you, as well as whoever you might work with or just the universe itself, that you have strong capabilities and you can do what you want as long as you put your mind to it. there’s nothing wrong with taking breaks, just don’t be lazy. if you don’t put your mind to something, you will never get it done.

⎯⎯ 𝗛𝗢𝗣𝗘

the star. it embodies renewal.

what can the star ☆ mean? : it can mean hope, inspiration, creativity, calm, contentment, renewal, serenity, spirituality, healing, and positivity.

with the star, all i have to say is that you don’t know how much you’re worth. and i’m just here to tell you that you are amazing. i can’t believe that anyone would let you go while you’re the embodiment of the star. i can feel your personality and the way you act is very bright and charming all while being kind at the same time. i see passion and i see determination within you and that part of you is burning bright. however i feel like you’ve been dimmed by other people and that’s not what we want here. i want you shining and for you to know your worth. while you’re going through these tough times it’s definitely hard to be your charming happy self and i totally get that.

even stars need breaks and with that, you need to stick up for yourself a lot more because i can see your strength in you. you just need to find it in your own way. disrespect is not allowed here, especially when it comes from yourself. you need to know your worth because other people see it so clearly. i think you need to find peace and inspiration within sorts of media right now so you can bring the renewal into your life and positivity surround yourself with people who know your worth and can teach you how to love you without needing to dim your light and outshine you in the process. you all can shine together and don't be afraid to speak up for yourself because your ideas are words are solid.

also, don't be afraid to put yourself out there too! there's nothing wrong with taking risks and with a personality that big and positive like yours, you'll find friends, relationships, and connections anywhere. it's not hard once you start healing from your own negative self thoughts.

⎯⎯ 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗧𝗬

page of swords. it embodies exploration.

what can the page of swords mean? : it can mean delayed news, patience needed, ideas, inspiration, planning, vigilance, protective, guarded, fairness, think before you speak, don’t get drawn into arguments, mental agility, using your head, inquisitive, curious, quick-witted, chatty, communicative, education, petty gossip, being truthful/ direct, speaking out, fighting injustice.

i can already see that you’re an impatient person and i’m not going to lie so am i. i think that you’re a very anxious person and you always feel as if you have to do things quickly and before anyone else just so you can get ahead of the game. that’s actually what stressing you out right now. what you need to hear right now that you need to slow down. also i have this feeling that you need to think before you speak because you speak without thinking at times and there are people listening that you might not want for them to be listening to you (also something i struggle with). there are always going to be people that are listening to you and they may be enemies you don't want to rile up even more.

i think you just have to keep to yourself sometimes and you need to be more guarded to protect yourself from others. especially when it comes to your emotions so you don’t get attached to people too quickly. i think you're very restless when it comes to people when it comes to maybe texting you back or not really paying attention to you. i think when it comes to those situations, you should find attention within yourself that you can provide entertainment to yourself without anyone else.

if someone doesn't text you back, it's not a big deal. wait for them to text you back instead, you can live without them. you're a very caring person and you taking up the fact that you have to change or help anyone is not healthy for you. take some time for yourself because you're the stronger and most important person in your world. make sure to ground yourself and let yourself take rests instead of worrying about things that may not even be so big to the other person.

final notes about this reading: did this kinda spiral.. yes... but i'm hoping it was still helpful or good to hear! dear curiosity, i kind of called you out... my bad chat..

links + things: https://daestarot.carrd.co to learn more about me (includes examples of paid and free readings, what i do read for + don't, and my discord for contact)!

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

ae don't see the point in engaging in a fandom if you don't even really like the characters

like, yeah, folks get ford wrong, and they get mabel wrong too. but they also get stan wrong. like. a lot? just as much as they get ford wrong, even? is. is there a chance the only reason folks talk about ford's mischaracterization more is because he's made out to seem worse than he is and stan is made out to be flawless and people like flawlessness and perfection and more attracted to characters deemed as having no negative traits because they feel better projecting themselves onto said character

anyway, ae can't say anything on dipper cause ae don't even really know his character that well (was always more interested in the others unfortunately) so ae have no clue if like. folks are mischaracterizing the main character too

but the point is: you have a main cast of like four characters. maybe five, if you count bill. and three out of those four (maybe four out of those five, considering the. what would we call that. 'wet kitten'-ifing of bill, especially recently), a large chunk of the fandom violently mischaracterizes. do you get us here? like, it's one thing to throw some headcanons into the ring, tweak some bits of a character, etc.

what the fandom does with ford and stan is not that. ford is not ford, and stan is certainly not stan. and mabel? we all know how she's treated

aey don't want to say like. all the folks here are doing it for this reason. but ae'm willing to bet this is due to 1. not interacting with the actual material for a long while and 2. not being able to let go of the series due to nostalgia

and ae get that, ae do. it's hard to let things go that are important to you. but you're not the only one. gravity falls praises weirdness, the differences in beings. lots of folks are attached to the show due to this, especially neurodivergent or just generally outcast folks. it says you will find your place, where you will find community and safety. it says that things get messy, but they can always get better

1: erasing stan's mistakes and flaws and making him a perfect can-do-no-wrong was coerced into every bad thing he's ever done character fucks that up (and the stan in our head personally likes to have his gremlin shenanigans acknowledged). it means stan didn't have to work for his happy ending, he didn't have to better himself, he just had to sit and wait for ford to drop it in his lap. this means it is not equal. it's not fair to ford, if he's the only one that had to put effort into it (especially after the thirty years of being in a completely alien place??). this also becomes an issue when you take into account that a large amount of people still give stan all his canonical trauma. you are not your trauma, you are not responsible for it, but you do need to work with it. it can't get better by itself, you need to help it get to that point. and this is speaking as someone with ptsd. it will always be there, but you can ease the pain. thus, treating stan in this way yields the opposite meaning: he doesn't struggle with it. he doesn't make mistakes. he never lashes out because of the suffering as commonly occurs. he doesn't have to try. making him messy makes him real, and making him real means he can be used as a device to help those hurting to heal. his experiences are relatable for a lot: and thus making him have to work for his good ending instead of just waiting for it to fall into his hold is important. if he can do it, you can, too! you don't get that if he doesn't have to try

2: ford is a very neurodivergent-coded character. this does not mean he is canonically neurodivergent; it does, however, mean that when you demonize him, make his character worse than it is, it is very difficult to avoid spewing out ableism. saying x trait of ford is bad for y reason means you are bound to fall into a pit trap of hurting beings who don't deserve it. most folks think of autism, of course, but this also applies to a lot of other things. personality disorders, paranoia and anxiety, ocd, and a whole host of other things folks have no control over. he has a lot of hurt he was never able to process properly, and that adds to him being a messy character. this is good! he works hard to pry his life from his abuser, and he works even harder to better himself and get his happy ending with his family! and yet. the fandom does not acknowledge any of that. he is demonized for things stan does, too, and ae have never such horrific victim blaming as in the fandom. again, this hurts people. he is not irredeemable, and he is not responsible for what his manipulative abuser did to him. implying or outright saying he is harms beings that are trying to heal from similar experiences. furthermore: the emphasis on him being arrogant, having an ego. stop that. if he has a little bit of arrogance to him, so what? that's normal, that doesn't make him a bad guy. especially when folks dig so hard to find any scraps that prove this apparent trait of his. everything is scrutinized. learning to love yourself is important, and gaining a little bit of an ego is part of that. building confidence and pride in your accomplishments is good! being able to genuinely say you're cool or amazing or smart or beautiful or strong is good! building all of this up is an important part of healing, especially from trauma, and demonizing ford for it is actively working against this

pointing these things out isn't hating on stan or defending ford, either. the characters have personalities, and it's better in the end to let them keep them, as messy as they may be. stan has flaws, ford does too. but they're good people, they have good intentions, and they work to better themselves and repair relationships. they're not all the way there, yet, but they will be. you just won't get to see it (that's what fics and fan art and headcanons and discussions are for)

this turned out so much longer than ae meant it to be, but like. idk, needed to get our thoughts out ae guess

[sunnydayaoe]

{This isn't Normal}

[CCCC FIC] Contains: Platonic Soul and Mind [~6,000 words]

CW // attempt at romance [no actual romance], uncomfortable kissing [they figure out they don't like kissing and talk it out]

As if sensing the fact it was thinking of him, Mind tightened his arms in his sleep. Usually the robot tried not to be so grabby, but in its sleep it seemed to have no such reservations. It was almost cute, like every daydream Harmonia had ever had about a partner. Soft and domestic, downright cozy. {The idea of Mind in that dream made him want to puke.} - Or, Soul VS. Amatonormativity; considerations on what friends should act like

Fic under cut! or on AO3

{This wasn’t Normal}

The sun was freezing cold, leeching any warmth he had like the parasite he’d always claimed they were. Somehow, he couldn’t summon any of the vitriol that would have accompanied that thought mere weeks ago. His Mind, comfortable and healthy and There in his arms. It almost felt like blasphemy to feel the moment could be perfect, if he let it.

As if sensing the fact it was thinking of him, Mind tightened his arms in his sleep. Their legs were already tangled, its hooked around his, and its arms were twined around his waist, but it still tried to worm its way closer. 

Usually the robot tried not to be so grabby, but in its sleep it seemed to have no such reservations. It was almost cute, like every daydream Harmonia had ever had about a partner. Soft and domestic, downright cozy.

{The idea of Mind in that dream made him want to puke.}

So why wasn't it perfect? What about this set off so many red flags in his mind? Was it the way it drooled a little, fast asleep as it was and mouth parted in a little smile, utterly relaxed? The way it had decided that, regardless of all that he had done, this was what he deserved?

Or was it the fact that Soul had just noticed how close it was. Did friends sleep so close together, snuggled together in bed?

He shook his head, that was - this was - irrelevant. He just needed to get to sleep. Just had to accept this was supposed to be ideal. He just... had to ignore the nagging voice at the back of his mind. There was nothing to worry about- It's just- {his skin was starting to crawl-}

Mind rolled onto the mattress with a muffled thump, still sound asleep, now on its side. The half marked by their cacophony. Exposed teeth stretched into a rictus grin, a smile carved free from its face, even unconscious. Cute, the way an ugly dog was. It hadn’t noticed Soul sitting up {flinching back}.

{Soul hadn’t noticed a lot of things either. Like a boiling frog, he’d been oblivious to the slow shift in their relationship. When had he started letting it sleep in his bed? Getting so close to him?}

He... why was he freaking out. This wasn't new. {And wasn't that the problem? Why did he let it go so far?} He needed to get over it; what would Mind think, if it woke up tomorrow and Soul... was acting like this. Surely it would be worried. Stress during Concord; he didn't want to be the cause of that.

He needed to get back to... what had become the status quo. He reached out a clawed hand, thumb against its pulse point, testing. Cold, even still, but relaxed; wholly within his control. Safe.

It remained un-tense at his prodding, a lamb before a butcher. Nothing was wrong here, he reminded himself. {He should be gentle, but} His hand tightens, unconscious as the creature beside him. Its throat felt so malleable, under its hands. Delicate, like if he squeezed-

The whir of a fan stopped him. A furrow had found its way onto Mind's brow. Lips and teeth parted slightly as if to breathe more easily, a near silent pant, wheezy, starting up. 

Taking in a breath, deeply, slowly {an attempt to get away from that blistering confusion}, he shifted his hand from throat to shoulder. A safer place. It brought his attention back to the present moment. 

His Mind leaned in, like he hadn't just been choking it. {And hadn't that been their whole relationship? Him, hurting it, and it crawling back, forgiving him for things it had no right to.} He couldn't bring himself to let go. {He shouldn't be enjoying this, the gentle give of its skin, the cool emanating from it even through its shirt.}

It had always burned, like dry ice. Why not tonight? {Not quite a lie, but not the full truth either; he hadn't felt the skin crawling sensation anytime they'd done... this.} Would it even stop him, if it did? Mind, a purposefully apathetic grin on his face, image ruined by a blue blush dusting its cheeks. No new bruises, skin clean of cuts. Awkwardly, stiltedly, asking for some time together. Would he say no to that, even if it burned? {He knew he would. Selfishly.}

He lied back down, on his side, facing his Mind. Closer to it now. He was reaching out before he'd even considered what he should be doing. Cupping the back of its head with its one free hand, {tangled into its hair, thumb gently --because he needed to remember to be gentle-- pressed to the side of its neck, feeling the cold, sluggish pulse}, he tipped its head back. An almost instinctual action he had from checking bandages, even months after it had fully healed.

Ugly scars marred its throat; stretching from its cheek to its collarbone, blue lined circuits exposed with the scars. It didn't even stir at this, seeming to have, even unconscious, grown used to the motion just as much as Soul had. A level of trust that just couldn't be deserved, earned. 

They... shouldn't be doing this, should they.

He shook his head; He couldn't be having these thoughts at 12 AM. He should at least wait until morning before bringing up any of these topics. Waking up Mind now would only only make it grumpy and difficult about it; he should push these issues aside for the future. [He knew he'd probably never bring it up, push it off until it loomed on the horizon like an approaching storm.]

All his shifting had untangled their legs, had dislodged Mind from its comfortable place pressed against his side, his own panic ruining their little slice of harmony. It would definitely notice, if it woke up like this, that Soul had not slept soundly. More and more undue stress inflicted upon it, like he had not done that enough during cacophony. 

If it woke up in the same... general closeness it had fallen asleep in, it would probably be fine. The best option, if he wanted not to worry it. {and not, of course, because he wanted to be closer, to have it back in his arms.} He would not be spiraling tonight. It was just a bit of cuddling, just returning to their flawed status quo. Nothing wrong with that. {May Harmonia forgive him.}

He let his eyes drift to its throat, still bared, still trusting. It would be... fine with this, he supposed. Just settling it back into where it had been when it fell asleep. He was sure it wouldn't protest this. {He wondered who it'd blame if he went too far. He knew it wouldn't blame him.}

He inched the smallest bit closer, gently tugging it in turn. His arm sled down its back, feeling the sharp, metal ridges of its spine, the slight rubbery give around it. An action that all the world looked like someone soothing a partner. {He knew he was the only one getting soothed by the action.}

Gentle, cautious, one hand tugged its face to his neck, tucking it flush against him, while the other inched across its back. Something so cold shouldn't be so enjoyable to cuddle, yet Mind felt almost perfect in his arms. He hooked his leg around its, tangling them back together under the covers, the gentle creaking of metallic joints humming at all the movement.

It snuggled closer against his neck, movement in its sleep, exposed teeth pressed against him; gross, but he didn't mind as much as he thinks he should have. Another tally in the mess he had become with Mind. He tightened his arms, he doesn't want to think about it.

Cold and heavy, like a weighted blanket, perfect for a night like this. He thinks that was why he let it sleep in his bed with it, or... what he'd told himself he was letting it do this for. Sitting under the covers with it snugly held in his arms was downright pleasant. He reminded himself he was doing this to reinstate the status quo.

He could hear its breathing, so close to his ear. No dreams, good or bad, seemed to plague his Mind, breathing smooth and uninterrupted; sometimes {and how long did he have to spend sleeping beside this to note?} when it dreamt, it seemed to forget all the damage that had been inflicted onto it. Every breath pulled in a bit stilted, like it couldn't remember how to around the unfamiliar damage. He supposes maybe in its dreams it was unbroken. 

He could feel himself relaxing further into it, relaxing in the haziness night brought. Maybe... this could be okay. For the purpose of not stressing Mind out, of course. 

Feeling along its back, he felt the mechanical engineering it had reduced itself to. Even through the shirt, the robot had a unique feeling... Digging the slightest bit between each ridge of its back, he felt it shudder in his arms. Curling towards him and arching its back in equal measure. Under the covers its tail was wagging, the slightest bit. Its breathing had gotten a bit snuffly too... was it having a good dream now? 

Cute, he thought. He tucked his face right over its shoulder, as if it could see his reddening expression if he hadn't, even fully asleep.

He must have paused, because it squirmed in his arms a little. Soft noises, softer motions, how could he deny it a little more affection? Just to placate it, of course. 

He let his claws skin over its back, dipping along the soft ridges of its spin and the relaxed muscles of its back. His other arm curled around its waist, hand splayed across its lower back and rubbing small soothing circles. 

It stopped its movements, falling limp once more {he ignored how similar that drop felt to when it passed out from the pain, months before}. 

Confidence renewed, and perhaps a bit chastised by its reaction to his stopping, he let himself get a bit more intense with his actions. He dipped his claws into a groove of softer skin along its spine, just below its shoulder blades, feeling the way it let out a little noise at the action; the reaction should have stopped him, even thought it wasn't a negative one. 

He continued anyway. His second mistake. {his first was letting it get this close in the first place}

Humming a satisfied note, he held it close, cool against his warm body. Maybe he could get to sleep like this, ignore the wrongness. Of course, that was when it had to wake up.

"Enjoying yourself?" Groggy, but still teasing. It could tell what he was doing, hugging, cuddling it like a doll. He froze, hearing its voice, but only for a moment. He didn't get this far by showing fear, weakness. He spread his hand out, cradling it, before pulling it closer, chest flush against his own. It could fight back now.

"Quite a lot," he hummed, ear twitching in distance when he heard the way his voice cracked; he didn't know why. He wasn't lying, after all. He was enjoying himself, half asleep and enjoying the comfort of his third against him. Now though, he was brought back to reality; it didn't seem angry at him now, but he knew it would be. How couldn't it? 

He could tell by the slight narrowing of its eye, even half-mask with drowsiness, it had heard his voice shake too. Idly, {to avoid thinking of other things} he wondered what it must assume that meant. Lying? Exited? Too many things for his precious Mind to ascribe meaning when there wasn't. His body was just being... uncooperative.

He didn't allow it the satisfaction of a glib remark; blunt claws traced along the soft spots by its spine, letting them dip further into the soft plastic between metal he knew could get him a reaction. Mean, he knew. 

The choked off whine that turned straight into a growl was his reward, amusing as it was nauseating. At least one of them was enjoying this. Its hands reached out to weakly paw at him before sliding up to his shoulders, blunt nails digging in. It didn't seem to know what to do with all the affection, especially since Soul usually didn't get so handsy. {A sure sign he probably shouldn't be doing this.}

"What are you doing?" it huffed, pulling away from his neck and revealing its face, stained a dark indigo. "You're acting.... odd."

Clearly it didn't like how... affecting this was; Soul would have to note where exactly he'd sunk his claws, for future reference. Of course, there would be no "future" to reference this in. He was already stepping over lines, to continue doing so in the future... a recipe for disaster. "Nothing, my Mind. Can't I be in a cuddly mood? Just for tonight."

"Bullshit."

"I assure you, it's not," he grinned, eyes crinkling and mouth tilted just right to match Harmonia's smile on the left. Perfect, angelic: it must have clashed terribly with how he let his claws dig in, "Plus, you seem to be enjoying it."   It shuddered a bit at his actions as it let out another whiny growl. It sounded distinctly like a dog, the way the sound rolled into a deep low rumble by its modulator. It recovered much quicker, this time.

"Fuck off," Mind didn't believe him, pushing off him the moment it could and sitting up till' it loomed above him. It seemed like it wanted to take up all his vision. He guessed it wanted to feel in control. "You're not acting yourself."

He averted his eyes. {Was this what Heart felt like, accused under that sharp, whited out gaze?}

The glass of water on the nightstand was looking rather interesting, half-empty; he thinks Mind drank it. Lights were off too, dark except what the moon, his moon, illuminated through the window. {He didn't want to look back.}

It seemed he wasn't going to be allowed to look away though, his Mind not allowing it. His face was grabbed and his eyes dragged back to Mind. It was breathing through clenched teeth, {He'd fucked up, hadn't he.} Even still, it was hard not to immediately relax into its hands; would that calm it down or stress it out further? Clearly it was disquieted with his strange attitude tonight, and finding its touch anything more than Tolerable would certainly set off some red flags.

At this point though... he doesn't think he can stress it out further. Surly it won't notice. He relaxed into its hands. Sighing and leaning its cheek into the touch. Its fingers curled, tensed; he ignored that.

"Do we have to talk about it?" Quieter than he meant to say it. He closed his eyes, knowing Mind wouldn't let him look away. Still, he could perfectly picture it's expression. Eyes narrowed, mouth pursed, shoulders tense like it was ready for a fight; it always looked so much less relaxed in an emotional confrontation over a physical one.

Blissful silence, for just a moment. "You know I can't just leave it, if there's something wrong with you, we should... endeavor to fix it."

"And if I don't want to think about it?"

"Well... that is my job, I could handle it."

That startled a laugh out of him. The startled satisfaction on its face certainly let it know it was on purpose. He knew the other wouldn't be dropping this anytime soon. Not when he'd acted so... erratically; he had to talk about it. "You know what we have isn't normal."

"What do you mean?"

Soul reached up to drag Mind down with him, face pressed to its sternum. He didn't want to look at it for this, didn't even want it seeing his expression. "What we're doing. What we've Been doing. This.”

It was silent at that, probably unable to think up a rebuttal. Conceding when someone else was right...? Strange of his Mind. Maybe it was going through the same realization Soul had gone through, that this wasn't okay. He tightened his grip, not wanting it to leave even though they both knew they shouldn't be doing this anymore. Selfish, but what had he not been.

He could feel it swallow, eerily human,  "Why would you think that?"

"You're the smart one, can't figure it out? What, think this is normal? That "friends" cuddle every other night? sleep in the same bed? dress up and play dog?"

"Soul." It tried to pull his face away from its chest. He refused; he didn't want eye contact again. Couldn't look it in the eyes. He heard it sigh overhead. Resignation, probably: tired of dealing with his shit, definitely. He shouldn't have snapped, if there was any chance of this getting shoved under the rug, it was gone now.

"I shouldn't want this." Curled, tucked against its chest, cuddling it like a stuffed animal, it was obvious what "this" he was talking about.

"And if I want this too?"

He laughed against its chest. A new route his Mind had never taken; genuine manipulation. Normally it at least believed the lies it was saying. "You just want to make me feel better."

It let its head dip down and rest on the crown of his skull, cheeks pressed to his horns. It huffed, though didn't fight him on the point, "I do."

His face burned. Mind was probably tired, he'd just woken it up, after all. Probably from a good dream, definitely something that would leave everything tinted a bit pink. It wouldn't be saying this if it was thinking straight. Emotionally repressed, faking apathy, distanced from the two of them; its Mind could not be the one more emotionally present of the two of them right now.

"Friends can't do this." He repeated, refusing to follow up.

It was impossible to see its face from where he was, but he could almost Feel the eye roll it was doing. None of them could be anything but difficult. He wished it could just accept his words, just once.

"Okay than, how about... we not be friends for this."

"Like... partners?"

"..." It was silent for a moment, and just as he was considering the possibility that he'd fucked up, that he'd over stepped and suggested something strange- "Yeah... like partners."

That... could work. It would fix all the problems he'd found; friends couldn't cuddle every night, couldn't sleep in the same bed, couldn't ... couldn't do all the things he'd done with Mind. {And hadn't he compared this to daydreams his Harmonia would have had? It was perfect.} But this would Fix it all! {His skin was starting to crawl.}

He laughed, relieved. "Yeah? You'd do that for me?"

It froze a little, arms tightening around him, it seems like it didn't know how to react to that. 

"...For you, my Soul."

He finally leaned back, allowing it eye contact. Its expression softens at his smile, though its brown remained the smallest bit furrowed.

"That's great! that's... that's great." He laughed again, giggly with the deflating tension. His hands wound right back around to its back, hugging it. It relaxes further, untensing in his hold; perfect, he decided. Really this makes it all finally, *finally*, make sense.

He grinned, he couldn't Stop grinning. Too much energy, he could tell by the way it slowly blinked down at him. The adrenaline drop definitely affecting it.

"So- ah, does this... ah... we're... together?" He didn't want to jump the gun too much, {and maybe a little voice at the back of his head really wanted it to say no.} even though that is what Mind had implied with its decision. Best let his Mind decide, this was its idea after all.

His Mind, his, of course. It would explain its... everything, if he looked at it through that lens. It had always been a bit, well, Odd about him, odd in the way he was odd about it. {It had to. It had to explain it all. Otherwise, he'd have to confront he wanted things he really shouldn't.}

It smiled, awkward. He guessed it had filled it's quota for emotional intelligence for the day, the night. Whatever. It was cute {and he could finally think that without guilt!}. Mind hummed, drooping into the bed, his arms, satisfied with its problem "solved." Soul really had been stressing it out... but that was okay, it was all fixed now. He could make it up to it.

"Sure... sounds good,"

"Now what? Now that we're... more than friends." The phrase left an odd taste in his mouth, but maybe that was because it was new. He'd get used to it.

"Do we have to do anything?" It asked, clearly ready to go right back to sleep. After a searching look, it relented. {Did he really look that bad...?} "Fine. I think... people usually kiss, when they're... Like that."

The words came out awkward, and he giggled at it. It phrased it like it was talking about a particularly odd thing it had seen online, not it's actual life. "Like that?" He repeated, teasing.

It groaned, annoyed, "Like *this.* Whatever. Do you want to?"

"... Maybe."

"That's not really an answer."

"No. Yes. Maybe" he waffled, like he always did. They should make indecision his middle name.

He really didn't know. It was... well it felt like what he was supposed to be doing; they'd already settled that this would fix their little "Normal" vs "Abnormal" equation. So if he wanted to keep everything else, he probably should get used to everything else that came with it.

Mind narrowed it's eye, clearly already over their little late-night emotional breakthrough. That was its thinking face, and he wondered what solution it was going to drop all its eggs into. "How about I do it?"

"The kissing? I think it's a two person activity."

An eye-roll, more a tip of the head than anything else- his Mind didn't really have pupils to roll, after all. Still, it got the idea across.

"Not on the lips, obviously." It gestured vaguely to the rest of its face, "I'll just... try it out elsewhere; perhaps some applicable data could help you decide."

"That is the nerdiest way I've ever heard someone ask for a kiss."

It turned away, embarrassment painting its face a faint blue and highlighting its freckles, "yes or no."

"Fine, yes, give me some new "data," my Mind."

The robot didn't seem to know what to do now that it was given the go-ahead. Did it think he'd say no? {Should he have said no?}

Hands settled back on his shoulders, and it leaned in closer, closer. It paused right before his face, and he couldn't help the amused snort he let out; his Mind always spoke a big game, but had awful follow through.

It growled at him, muttering something he could only hear because of how close it was, "I'm trying to be considerate."

"More like hesitant. I've already said yes."

It huffed, but finally made contact, pressed gently to his cheek.

He doesn't know what he expected. Fireworks? A rush of energy? An orchestral swell of music, perhaps?

All he got was teeth and skin. Getting kissed by someone with half a face, of course, meant teeth. Sharp and cold, like silverware, and slightly damp. Definitely a bit gross. Not unbearably so, though.

Its lips were similarly chilled, but soft against his cheek. Not the ice cube of its teeth, but comfortably cold. Really not as unexpected as he felt it was.

Mind pulled back near instantly, brow furrowed but unspeaking, worried for his reaction, probably.

He hummed, considering, "Not bad... could you try without shoving your teeth into my skin?"

"Not my fault."

"Well, the way you use those things definitely IS."

It narrowed its eye at the jabs, but leaned back in for another gentle kiss, slightly to the right of the first. Less teeth, how kind of it.

It really wasn't all that bad. He liked how gentle it felt, considerate of him in a way he'd started to enjoy in the last couple months. Sweet, if he had to describe it.

He let his eyes fall shut, humming at the sensation. It was nice; not the way he'd expected this to feel, but certainly not Bad. He wondered when it would start to feel the way others described it, though.

Seeming to take his relaxation as approval, it continued. Gently peppering his cheeks in little half kisses, it seemed like it was trying to make up for the fractured lips with twice as many pecks.

{He wondered if his face would end up covered in blue lipstick by the time they went to sleep. He guesses there wasn't anyone to see it.}

It drifted slightly closer to his lips, pressing one final kiss to the very edge of his mouth before pulling back.

"So... that enough data?" It coughed, clearly struggling not to look away. Its face was a bit blue, and he knew his was definitely tinted red, but his Mind seemed determined to look at this as "logically," as it could-a habit it had started to break in concord, but he guesses everyone had their ways of dealing with new situations.

He rubbed his cheek, it felt burning, warm from all the cold kisses. "Yeah..."

"Yeah?"

"Impatient, much?" He teased, trying not to let it show how much he... didn't know if he wanted to go further than that. The kisses were nice, very nice, even, but the idea of going further than innocent pecks...

"I want to go to sleep." it said, "We can stop here, if you want. Figure this shit out tomorrow."

"No, no," sitting around doing nothing, waiting for his problems to be solved rarely got him anywhere, and trust him, he'd Tried. "We can kiss now, if you want."

It hummed, like it hadn't actually considered Soul agreeing and didn't know what to do now that he did. "Yeah... lets."

There was an awkward moment, where both of them waited for the other to make the first move. Mind had done it first, but shouldn't that mean Soul should have his turn as well? or does that mean it should just continue what it had started. 

Seeming to care more about the prospect of getting to sleep after the deed was done than it was with the slight tension that had entered the air, Mind went for the kill.

It was, in a word, awful.

Mind went in a little fast, and Soul couldn't say he wasn't to blame either, leaning in when he saw it moving forward. Teeth against skin, lips mushed together in an uncoordinated mess. He thought concord was supposed to make them on the same wavelength, but clearly that was a critical misunderstanding of their newfound harmony. It was bad in a way independent from the physical sensation, like he was doing something against his vary nature. Like a wider example of all the little doubts he'd had about this "solution."

He powered through for only a moment longer, before it became very much unbearable. It burned, and not in any pleasant way: like someone had shoved mercury under his skin, blood lit up in a horrid prickling wrongness.

He pulled away with a shudder, and opening his eyes he could tell Mind didn't seem to have enjoyed it either. Fuck. Really bad. 

It was silent between their breathing, neither wanting to admit fault or mistake. Trapped between the urge to suggest a do-over, to try it again, that really it shouldn't have been that bad, and the bone-deep need to pull his skin off, he couldn't say a thing.

Mind never was able to shut up though.

"That was... an experience."

"No shit," He hissed, voice beckoned by Mind's nothing observation.

"I take it that wasn't to your liking either, my Soul?"

"How could you tell?" Snappy, yet again. 

It just looked at him. He stared back, for just a moment, before tearing his eyes away. He couldn't deal with this right now. The worst part was that it wasn't just the kiss though, that was just highlighting the problem. His Fix wasn't the golden path he'd decided it needed to be, and now he was left to deal with the problem once more. They weren't normal. 

It reached out, gentle as it could be half metal, "Hey, we'll... figure something else out."

"How?" and his voice came out split, like two people were speaking at once. He dragged in a shaky breath, he shouldn't be snapping at Mind, it had indulged him in his wild frenzy for answers tonight, had done nothing wrong so far. Oh Harmonia did he want to get angry at someone though. Another sin to add to his tally.

It brought its hand right back to itself, hesitant to be touching him now that he'd gotten himself into a mood. Probably for the best, he doesn't know how he'd handle more of that cold against him.

"We'll figure something out."

He didn't think they would. It didn't look like it thought they could either; shoulders tense and jaw clenched. Nervous. Lying.

"You don't believe that." He barely kept it from turning into a snarl.

It cringed back, probably unhappy with its lie called out. It took a breath, a rebuttal already coming out, it really couldn't shut up, could it? "Soul-"

He turned around, back to his Mind. He couldn't get mad at it, he reminded himself; it was only trying to help. Ineffective, but he had to forgive it. Harmonia would forgive it. Hands clutched to his ears, knees pulled up to his chest, he could hear it spluttering behind him.

"That is so-" it stopped, but he knew what it wanted to say: childish. Why stop itself? It would be saying the first truthful statement of the night, if it didn't.

He curled up further, not wanting to listen, to care. Freaking it out, earning its ire, having convinced it to go alone with his horrible horrible ideas... he didn't know if he felt more shame or anger. Which was safer? Which one was he supposed to be feeling?

There was a sigh, tired, from his Mind. He tried not to take it personally. A second more of shifting, moving blankets. Was it leaving? That would make the most sense. {He ignored the voice in the back of his head screaming to stop it. He didn't want to be alone.}

Before he could stew too long, a blanket was dropped over his shoulders, a barrier between him and Mind. Considerate of it, though he doesn't know why it would do that, he was entirely capable of tucking himself in when it lef- He startled as it settled against his back.

He couldn't feel the cold through the covers, only the pressure, the knowledge. Arms draped over and chest to his spine.

He couldn't cry right now. That would send the wrong message. It was pushing his buttons, he'd made it very clear he was trying to avoid even looking at it and yet- It wasn't touching him. It was trying. Fuck.

He didn't want to cry right now.

"That may have been a... misguided attempt to fix the problem, but there must be a solution. We just haven't found it."

"Don't think so..." He muttered, barely audible.

"Well I don't care."

That startled a laugh from him, wheezy and a bit choked up. "Wasn't this whole thing supposed to be about making me feel better? You can't say "I don't care""

He could almost feel the smile the laugh gained him, the way it relaxed even through the blanket. He stared intensely at the wall, not wanting it to distract him from the issues at hand.

Its next words were soft, going after the small opening in his defenses, "We figured it wasn't romantic. That can just be... a starting point. We know its not romantic, at the very least."

"Fine... okay, I concede we at least learned a little from that..." He paused, considering his next words carefully, "Most of the kisses were fine, really, just... not on the lips."

There was silence for a moment, and he worried that maybe he'd fucked up, said something he shouldn't. Maybe it hated that part too. Maybe it just hated him.

Shifting behind him, than a crackling voice, "ah... me too. That's good, yeah? More information to work with."

He hummed an agreeing noise, "I guess."

It settled its head on his shoulder, another inch closer to him. He didn't push it away, and it relaxed into him, taking that as permission. He shouldn't be letting this happen, not when they still didn't know what This was.

"We don't want our relationship... romantic." The word came out a bit awkward, like it didn't even want to acknowledge they'd tried to go in that direction at all, "And you've decided it can't just be a friend thing-"

Soul huffed, "what do you mean, "decided?" I thought you agreed. Use your logic, my Mind."

It growled behind him, clearly unamused at being interrupted, "Well the romantic angle definitely didn't pan out, and while I see your misgivings about it being wholly platonic... I am beginning to think they may be unfounded."

"Well, good thing your not the emotional interpersonal relationship third, because I don't see reason to heed those misgivings."

"Heart wouldn't give a shit about whether we were calling it romantic or platonic and you know it."

That stopped Soul in his tracks. The words were definitely only meant as a glib comeback, a way for his Mind to have the last laugh but they struck a cord with him. Heart probably wouldn't care whatever Soul and Mind called their relationship, as long as all three of them could live happily.

Was this... another false construct? He thought he was over this, that he'd excised all the rot from his worldview. He couldn't tell.

It just made Sense for there to be things friends shouldn't do. Logical sense, except his logic was cuddled against him and clearly not against being friends through it all.

Awful. He needed to think. He couldn't just... He didn't want to have to throw away more of how he viewed the world. So much of it he'd come to realize was holding him back; the thought that there was still more he hadn't figured out felt sickening.

"My Soul...?" It had gotten all soft again, the teasing air disappearing as quick as it had appeared. He'd probably been silent too long, destroying the moment.

"Sorry, sorry." He mumbled, suddenly nervous all over again. "I just... can friends really be like this?"

It hummed a considering thought, "A friend is someone who is not an enemy or who is on the same side: a familiar or helpful thing. That definition doesn't exclude a bit of... cuddling and kissing, I think."

"..." He narrowed his eyes, ears twitching, "was that a dictionary definition of "friend?""

Silence.

"Cute. When did you even look that up? You can't have done that tonight."

"Ah... near the start of concord."

He laughed, "Why didn't you pull up that definition sooner?"

It tucked its face into his neck, as if to hide it. Ironic, because Soul couldn't see it's face either way, but now he could definitely feel the way its face was steadily getting colder. Blushing. "I... may not be firing on all cylinders. It's late. You woke me up in the middle of the night."

He couldn't help a laugh, "I thought your logic was absolute, yet you can't handle a nighttime conversation?"

"Well I don't see you handling this much better."

"I'm not the one who suggested the first faulty solution," Haughty, like he wasn't at fault for that same suggestion failing.

An indigent sound from behind, like it didn't know what to do with that, "Well excuse me! I wasn't the one having a little crisis he needed his Mind to try and fix."

That got him to turn around, squirming around the blanket until it had fallen off his shoulders and freed his arms. Using the newly acquired mobility, he gave his Mind a little shove, playful, "shut up, you"

It grinned, victorious, and grabbed his arms before he could pull back and dragged it into a hug. Still, it was gentle, or at least as gentle as the mechanical limbs could be, something he could easily struggle out of. All his squirms were token though, and he let himself be dragged into the embrace. 

He huffed, "Was that a ploy, my dear Mind? I thought you over such petty tactics." There was a grin in his voice, one he didn't want to admit was there.

Its smile just widened, "All is fair in love and war, my Soul."

"And so what is this? Love or war?"

Another question he shouldn't have asked, but it answered without hesitation, like it had been planning to it before he'd even finished his question. "Love."

Letting out a laugh, he tucked his face against its chest, "Yeah? That still fit your definition of friend?"

Its arms wrapped around him, steady, safe. "Of course."

"Sure, fine, I'll believe that." He didn't know if he fully did now but... maybe he could. Another day, another week, month, maybe even year but... maybe he could. 

"That's all I ask." Sleepy, content. The stress finally leaving it; a cause enough to pretend to believe it, at the very least.

[crimsonwolf715]

Parting Words of Regret

(Alternately, Jason left Damian with the LoA to start getting revenge on Bruce and the others who wronged him in Gotham. He reunited with his little brother upon returning to his family, but things aren’t the same.)

Damian’s studying in his room. 

“Hey, buddy,” Jason says from behind him. 

“Hello,” Damian replies, turning to face Jason. “Why do you look guilty? Did you spike Ommi’s coffee again?” 

Jason smiles. “No, nothing like that. I just have something I wanna talk to you about.” 

“What is it?” 

“I have to go.” 

“Go where?” 

“Going to do some training before I go back to Gotham.” 

“So you’re not coming back?” 

“I am coming back, just once I’ve dealt with Bruce.” 

Damian’s face gets hard. “So you’re not coming back. You and I both know that if Grandfather couldn’t beat him, then you can’t.” 

“I know him better than Ra’s does.” 

“Don’t go.” 

“You know I have to. I’m sorry that I have to leave you.” 

“No, you’re not. Go.” 

“Damian…” 

“Go deal with your strife and we can talk once it’s done.” 

Jason pulls Damian into a hug, which Damian barely accepts. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“Don’t make that promise.” 

Two years Later

It’s been a long three months. Three months since Jason joined back into the Wayne family. Damian made no sign that he recognized Jason, so Jason’s been pretending that he doesn’t recognize his little brother. Jason’s reading in the living room of the manor because he’s waiting on Bruce to show up so he can try to talk him out of making him get a GED. Damian storms into the house and goes straight for Jason. He almost gets to Jason when he stops. He gets this angry kitten look, then turns and storms upstairs. Jason feels a pang of sadness and shifts uncomfortably. 

Bruce walks in. “Where did Damian go?” 

Jason points to the stairs. 

“He got suspended for fighting.” 

“That’s what he was taught to do when he has a problem, but I find it unlikely that he started a fight.” 

“Why? I mean, I know he didn’t start the fight, but what makes you think that?” 

“Common sense,” Jason answers, dodging the real answer as best he can. 

Bruce heads up the stairs and Jason decides that it isn’t worth having this fight today. Jason heads into the kitchen and starts making a sandwich. Tim comes down. 

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Jason asks. 

“Shouldn’t you be at school?” Tim replies. 

“Fair. Do you want a sandwich?” 

“No, I ate lunch at a normal time, not two o’clock in the afternoon.” 

“Lucky you, I guess.” 

“I do have a meeting to go to, so I’ll be back.” 

“Bye, Tim.” 

Tim heads out and Jason ends up spending the rest of the day in his room, skipping dinner. All the little things are really getting to him concerning Damian. He’s used to his little brother running over to very aggressively tell him that they have to spar or he’ll commit a murder. Or that he’s just been struggling with his grandfather’s impossible standards for him. Damian would tell him everything. He ends up falling asleep without coming to a consensus on what he’s gonna do considering he hasn’t slept much the last week. 

The explosion buries Jason in debris. He can’t breathe, he struggles to get out from under the rubble. He feels himself losing consciousness and he cries out for his dad one time before losing consciousness. 

Jason wakes up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. He sees a small pair of eyes at his door. 

“Dami?” 

“Are you alright?” Damian asks. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Jason answers between breaths. 

“Alright, goodnight.” 

Jason’s door shut and footsteps retreating. Tears spring up in Jason’s eyes and he aggressively tries to rub them away.

I deserve that. I left a little kid.  

Jason lays back down and tries to fall asleep again. Instead, he spends the rest of the night wide awake. He’s exhausted, but he can’t seem to fall asleep. 

“Jason, breakfast!” Dick shouts. 

Jason groans, then gets up and heads downstairs. 

“You look…” Dick starts, but Jason cuts him off. 

“Comment on it, and I’m going to take out your knees.” 

Jason sits down at the breakfast table and everyone’s there. Jason glances at his watch and remembers that it’s a Saturday. Breakfast is rowdy, but Jason avoids talking to anyone. Dick keeps trying to make conversation with him, but he shuts it down with one to three word answers. He gets up and heads down to the Batcave to blow off steam and hopefully tire himself out enough to sleep. He doesn’t tire himself out enough and he spends the day mostly like a zombie. 

That night on patrol, a major villain attacks, bringing all hands on deck for damage control. Jason’s dealing with civilians when he sees Damian running. Damian trips and falls, and he looks terrified. 

“Damian!” Jason runs towards his younger brother and scoops him up quickly. 

Damian blinks slowly. “Jay?” 

“Yeah, I’m here. You’re safe.” 

Damian grabs his jacket and puts his head on Jason’s chest. “Don’t leave me again, please.” 

“Is Robin okay?” Tim asks. “He got hit with a gas and he made a run for it immediately.” 

“I’ve got Robin, he’s alright,” Jason says. “I’m gonna take him home.” 

“Do that,” Bruce replies. “I don’t want him in harm's way if he’s been gassed. Run blood tests when you get back. If he needs it, get him to Leslie.” 

“I will.”��

Jason takes Damian back to the Batcave and easily distracts Damian so he can get his blood. 

“That’s it,” Jason says. “That was easy.” 

“What was easy?” Dick asks. “How is he?” 

“Still fine, and getting blood.” 

It gets quiet on comms. Jason ignores it and starts running tests, keeping Damian held against his chest. 

“How did you do that easily?” Dick asks. “I need you to teach me that.” 

“Maybe later,” Jason replies. “His blood’s got some drugs, but none that will do any lasting damage.” 

“That’s good,” Tim says. 

“Keep an eye on him, Hood,” Bruce says. “At least till I get back.” 

“Will do, boss. Signing off.” 

Jason pulls his comm out. “Do you wanna change?” 

Damian nods, so Jason puts him down. The two change, then Jason picks Damian back up. He carries him upstairs and they settle down on the couch. Damian falls asleep not long after getting settled. Jason runs his hand through Damian’s hair, careful not to make contact with the healing injury near the front of his scalp. He makes sure to keep up on where Damian’s injuries are. 

“I’m sorry I left you, buddy,” Jason whispers. 

Damian makes a soft noise and turns a bit, but doesn’t wake up. Jason’s chest feels tight and he forces back tears. He pulls Damian a little closer and puts his cheek against Damian’s head. 

“I love you.” 

Jason ends up falling asleep too. He wakes up hearing the door slam shut. The sun is out, so he slept for a while. 

“I’m here!” Dick calls out. 

Jason looks and Damian’s still asleep. 

“Shut up, Dickie,” Jason hisses. 

Dick pokes his head into the room and his face lights up like a Christmas tree. 

“Don’t you even…” 

“Awww. Look at you two.” 

Jason glares at him until he raises his hands. 

“I’m gonna go find Dad. Love you, Jay.” 

“Get out.” 

Dick goes upstairs, so Jason returns his attention to Damian. He gently picks his younger brother up and takes him up to his room. Once he’s covered up and still soundly sleeping, Jason heads to his room. He spends an hour in the shower, then heads down to the Batcave. He starts wrapping up his hands so he can punch the punching bag. Damian comes down and goes right over to Jason. 

“Hey,” Jason says. 

“May I speak with you privately?” Damian asks Jason. 

Jason stops mid-taping up his hands. “You mean without cameras? Because we’d have to take a walk.” 

“That is fine with me.” 

“M’kay, let me finish this up and we can go,” Jason replies, continuing to tap up his hands. 

Damian walks over and holds out his hand. Jason hands him the tape without hesitation. Damian starts taping up his hands quicker than Jason was doing it, but just as carefully. Jason smiles a little as his brother finishes taping up his hands. 

“You’re slow. Let’s go.” 

Jason gets up and follows Damian upstairs to the living room. Damian grabs a jacket and offers Jason his. 

Jason takes it. “Thank you.” 

Once they’re out of the house, Damian sighs. “I don’t want to do this anymore.” 

“Don’t want to do what anymore?” Jason asks. 

“Pretending that we didn’t know each other before. You seem to want to, but I don’t want to keep this up.” 

“Hey, I just did it because you didn’t act like you recognized me when I got back.” 

Damian cuts his eyes at Jason. “I did it when you first came back. Like to Gotham.” 

“Oh. Well, I feel stupid. I never want you to do something you don’t want to do, buddy. Except eat your vegetables.” 

“It’s just cauliflower and it tastes horrible,” Damian replies. “You can’t make me eat it.” 

Jason smiles and puts a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “I was just thinking about how I couldn’t keep this up.” 

“Because of yesterday?” 

“Straw that broke the camel's back.” 

“So we’re going to stop this weird act?” Damian asks. 

Jason nods. 

“Good, I’m far past sick of it. Mother’s been wanting to talk to you since you came.” 

“Oh yeah, not dealing with that right now. I’m still too tired for that. Tell her I’ll call her when I’m up for it.” 

“Sure, that’ll blow over well.” 

“What is she gonna do?” 

Damian shrugs, even though his face says he does know the answer. “We should get back before someone comes looking.” 

“Yeah, come on. You gotta hold my hand while we cross the street.” 

“I will kill you.” 

“I love you too, buddy.” 

“Love you.” 

They head back to the manor, Jason holding Damian’s hand.

[arcgayne]

my reasoning:

(these rankings are based on multiple criteria, such as relatability, hotness, relevance, how interesting they are as a character, and so on and so forth).

1) Jinx: she’s literally me. so silly and mentally unstable. needs therapy so bad and it shows. i fucking love her. please get help queen

2) Ekko: literally has never done anything wrong ever. moral compass strong as fuck. bonus points for looking cool. he’s also literally me but jinx wins over him bc she’s more unhinged.

3) Viktor: my fucking beloved. Do I want to be him? Do I want to be with him? Realistically I want neither of these things but unrealistically I need this man in ways even the hexcore couldn’t comprehend.

4) Mel: God I fucking love a powerful smart beautiful woman. AND she has mommy issues? she’s literally perfect. i’m rotating her in my head as we speak

5) Vi: hot tragic lesbian. almost lost points for becoming a cop but then she quit so it’s all good. for now. I have knowledge about what she ends up doing bc of the video game and I am currently choosing to ignore it in favor of the show timeline. Let me dream.

6) Sevika: hot. muscles. vodka aunt. hot. emotionally unavailable. hot. did i mention hot

7) grayson: i think it’s hilarious that she ranks higher than everyone else below her on this list. she literally only gets points for being attractive. especially her voice like ugghhh. what else can i say.

8) sky: perfect angel. so fucking smart and cool. deserves better. i need to know more about her or i will actually explode. hearing her voice made me so happy y’all have no idea

9) powder: baby. deserves the world. only ranks lower bc she doesn’t exactly “exist” anymore or whatever. justice for powder AND jinx 2025

10) caitlyn: hot. but ew cop moment. the fact that her sympathy for zaunites was crushed so easily really annoys me. like girl do you even have principles. ur revenge era would be cool if it wasn’t police brutality like noooo caitlyn pls don’t let a dictator use you to further destabilize your country for her own gain you’re so sexyyy ahaha… idk man it’s complicated. she should quit her job and get a new one. and then get therapy.

11) Jayce: he’s interesting in that he is a good example of a privileged person attempting to make things better by utilizing the system, only to get sucked into said system, becoming part of it and therefore part of the problem. the road to hell is paved with good intentions. his intentions are so good and yet. he is idiot. I hope Ekko and heimydingy are able to lessen his idiocy.

12) ambessa: hooottttttttttt. so fucking hot. goddamn. have y’all SEEN the music video for blood sweat and tears. i’m fucking FERAL. unfortunately for her, looks aren’t everything and she’s the fucking worst so here we are.

13) elora: beautiful powerful wonderful woman. need more of her. what is her life like. have she and mel ever kissed. much to think about here.

14) heimerdinger: he’s annoying and he doesn’t take the much needed time to explain why he makes the decisions he’s making... but he’s also right. which i hate because he’s annoying. but i also like that he’s annoying because it shows the very true fact that ppl who are annoying can in fact be right about things. also his heist with ekko was funny and endearing so he has that going for him. ekko carried tho ngl

15) vander: he’s cool cuz he’s a swag dad. a kind man and a protective guy. all around a great dude tbh. ranks lower because he doesn’t have any particularly interesting character traits to me.

16) finn: he looks cool as fuck but isn’t relevant and is also kind of an annoying brat. which is funny but like also bro. stop.

17) ximena: literally lost some of her fingers to frostbite to protect her baby child kid son. based. i love her.

18) cassandra: milf. the scene with the her and the gun? cool as fuck. ranks lower bc, again, not very relevant. and also dead lol

19) tobias: imma be honest idrc abt tobias at all i just didn’t want to separate him from his wife. he has enough of that in the show LOL

20) claggor: sweet boy. deserved better. i wonder what he would be like now if he’d been able to grow up.

21) silco: morally i hate this guy but he’s also a fascinating character. he’s cool as fuck and a bitch. plus he does eyeball drugs. there are so many fucked up things about this dude i can’t list them all. overall he’s a very well done character and an absolutely fantastic villain. what a piece of work.

22) benzo: just an all around good dude. ranks low bc he’s extremely irrelevant. sorry dude. if this was a morals contest he’d obv be ranked higher, but it’s not, so here we are.

23) jericho: had to look him up LOLLLL thanks for making food for vi i guess. people who make food for other people are the best. that being said he ranks low because, again, irrelevant.

24) mylo: cringe fail asshole. not ranked last bc he was a kid, so i can give him the benefit of the doubt, cuz maybe he would’ve been a better person as an adult… but also he never got to be one so oops lol get ranked low loser

25) singed: brother euughhh. i like drugs too but not THAT much. maybe give this man some backstory and i’ll care about him. as it stands rn idgaf about this guy. i rebuke thee, get AWAY

26) marcus: fucking piece of shit rat. fuck this guy. selfish coward and i hate him forever. die

Here's a fun little sorter I put together for Arcane characters! Reblog with your list!

Let the sorting commence!

[winterwandersland]

Echoes of Mercy

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Black!Fem!Reader Call of Duty x The 100 x Resident Evil tw/cw: none? word count: 3.5k Task Force 141 encounters an unexpected guest on their search to find the anti-virus.

Chapter Two

On Board

TWO YEARS EARLIER

You didn’t mean to yell at Price how you did. He was just trying to help, just like you were. But none of it had to be this way. No one had to get shot. No one had to get hurt. Mr. Diyoza was just trying to protect his only daughter. If anyone on your team had kids, they would do the same. It didn’t matter what Diyoza did wrong because, in his eyes, she was still his little girl.

And now you're holding kitchen cloths to her throat, praying that it was enough. You weren’t religious, but praying seemed like the only thing you could resort to. It didn’t matter if your prayer was going to a god or some other universal being. It just needed to be heard by someone and you needed that someone to give you at least a grain of hope to keep going.

“Please, to whoever or whatever is out there, keep her alive. I know she has done wrong, but this isn’t how she deserves to die. Let her learn from her mistakes, but please don’t take her away,” you murmured as you prayed, down on both knees and clasping your hands together on top of the cloth, keeping Diyoza from losing too much blood.

She was unconscious, but still breathing, which meant she didn’t cut too deep, which also meant there was a chance she could make it. After this long, she should have bled out and died. Maybe it was the cold air, but whatever it was, you were grateful.

As you kept the pressure over Diyoza’s throat, you gazed over at the rest of your teammates who were staring back at you, watching you like you were doing something wrong.

“The fuck are you all staring at?” you blurted out.

“She’s a terrorist. Why are you still trying to save her? Let her die a coward,” Bravo 3-8 answered.

You took a deep breath before you lost your mind. It was a rational thought. All terrorists were supposed to die. But Charmaine Diyoza wasn’t only a terrorist. She was your friend. She trained all of you. All of your team had some sort of connection with her. How could this be so easy for them?

“She’s your colonel,” you replied.

“She was our colonel. Now, she is a prisoner deserving of punishment,” Bravo 3-8 said.

He was the only one that would speak. It seemed like everyone else had some kind of remorse, but not him. Bravo 3-8 had always been the one teammate you bumped heads with the most. With the 141, he was an angel, but back on your own base, he caused you and Diyoza hell, but especially you. You figured it was because you were a woman, but Diyoza was, too. However, you had heard many times that Diyoza was more respectable because she was taller. Stronger. More capable of being a SEAL than you were.

But that didn’t matter to the government. You were both still women, so neither of you were supposed to be here. Neither of you should or could ever do what a man could, and at some point, you believed it. You almost dropped out of the SEALS camp because of an incident that happened, but a protective lieutenant and encouraging colonel kept your head in the game. If it wasn’t for them, you wouldn’t be here.

And now you're sitting with one of the few people who kept your hopes up, trying to keep her alive because she lost the hope she gave you. How ironic.

“We are not letting her die. Sure, she deserves to be punished, but she can’t be punished if she’s dead. If-When she lives, she will be sent to the penal colony on Eligius IV. But her worst punishment of all is having to live with her actions and what she has become. That is punishment enough,” you responded.

It was true. Diyoza would have to live with the guilt of massacring innocent people to get the attention of the government that she wanted. Even if she didn’t regret it now, she would one day.

Everyone was quiet. The aircraft was cold and there was no more bickering about whether to let Diyoza live. She was going to live and have to face the team that had so much faith in her.

The metal of the aircraft did nothing to decrease the freezing air that seeped through the terribly insulated plane. Just before you went to capture Diyoza, Simon had given you his poncho because you hated even the slight breeze of air. You used it to cover yourself up and find warmth and comfort in his scent that lingered on the oversized hooded piece of clothing. You prepared yourself to lie against Diyoza while keeping pressure on her neck, but you had to do a headcount first.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. You counted.

“What the hell?” you said.

“What is it?” one soldier asked.

“There’s eight of you here,” you answered.

“Yea. So what?” the same soldier replied.

You felt yourself start to breathe heavier and you could practically hear your heart thudding out of your chest. “So who’s flying the plane?”

PRESENT DAY

The team skulked about the piles of bodies, many of them still decomposing, their flesh still intact with their bones.

“What if it’s them? Squadron Eight,” Gaz stated.

As much as Ghost wanted to believe that, he knew it wasn’t true.

“There are too many bodies and it’s been two years. All their flesh would be long gone by now. These are recent deaths,” Ghost said.

He couldn’t afford to be thinking about you right now. He needed to be thinking about getting the anti-virus to deliver to the city. Then, once the mission is over, he can go back to reminiscing about the days you were here with him.

Ghost’s direct answer sent chills up the team’s spines. If this wasn’t your squadron, then who was it and what could have placed their bones in piles like this? From what they could see, there were no animals around big enough to kill the people, let alone drag their bodies into a pile. These bodies were at least a month old, but some of them were no more than a week. What could have done this? Who could have done this?

Soap slowly approached the CDC facility door, its cracked glass and moss that decorated the door and its surroundings. Whoever worked here did not keep up the building maintenance, but why would you when it blended in so well with its surrounding area?

He knocked on the door. “Hello?” Soap called out, “Special Forces!”

No one answered.

He knocked again, but there was still no answer, so he did the only other thing he could do in a facility like this. He opened the door, letting himself and the rest of the team through. They each held their guns up as they skulked about the empty lobby.

“Hello? Special Forces! Come out! We’re here to retrieve a package,” Price called out, but yet there was still no answer.

The building was completely trashed. Shattered glass, mold on the walls, and the most interesting of all, blood. Everywhere. There was still a stench, but it didn’t smell like death. It was a mix of must and ammonia once they entered further into the building.

“Someone’s been here recently,” Soap announces. He follows the scent of ammonia to a back door that seemed to be ajar, leading to the back of the building.

“How do you know?” asked Gaz.

“That ammonia smell…that’s piss. Human piss,” Soap informed him.

They continued scouring through the surrounding land, trying their best to ignore the foul smells that engulfed them, practically burning through their nose hairs.

Price raised his fist, bringing everyone to a halt. “Wait, you lads hear that?”

There was a faint rustling through the trees and the murder of crows flocking away that drew their attention. They pointed their guns towards the trees, their flashlights creating small orbs as they lit paths.

“I don’t see anything,” Gaz whispers, doing his best to keep his voice low, keeping anyone outside of the team from hearing him.

They each gathered in a circle, their backs turned to each other, keeping every angle under their surveillance.

Ghost put his weapon down after realizing there was nothing but the rustling of the trees. “It’s just the-,” he began, but a figure suddenly attacked him from above before he could finish.

In these situations, the team would be eager to shoot, but that would be a waste of a bullet when the attacker was so close. Ghost fought off the attacker, Price coming behind the person and grabbing them off of him.

“Don’t kill him! Could be the only way to find the CDC members!” Ghost yelled.

The hood of the perpetrator’s coat covered their face, making it nearly impossible to see who it was. The coat was large, made with fur gathered from the animals during the warmer seasons. It was getting cold out, the teams’ armor barely being enough to keep them warm.

Gaz and Soap kept their guns pointed towards the attacker while Ghost rose to his feet and Price kept the person restrained, finally knocking them onto their back and knocking the air from their lungs.

Price immediately got on top of the person, removing their hood and revealing a woman with blonde tipped hair and grown out brunette roots. The team’s face immediately lit up, Gaz and Soap lowering their weapons and letting out breaths of relief.

Price’s hand gently brushed the hair out of the woman’s face. “Charmaine?”

TWO YEARS AGO

You slowly moved to a squat position, keeping one hand on Diyoza’s neck and the other reaching for your sidearm. You silently wave down one of your members, motioning for him to keep pressure on Diyoza’s wound. Everyone had made it clear that they wanted Diyoza dead, but you couldn’t let that happen. You won’t let it happen. You take a look at everyone as the soldier places the pressure on Diyoza’s throat and you whisper to the team, “If I come back and she’s dead, I will kill every single one of you.”

You weren’t sure if the look they all gave you meant they were scared and believed you or that they were waiting to call your bluff. Either way, you were prepared for both options.

You creeped towards the front of the plane, your gun leading the way, your body tense and preparing for who you may find. The door to the cockpit was ajar, so you gently kicked it open with your foot and immediately pointed your gun to where a pilot should be.

“What the fuck?” you murmured. There was no one in the seat.

But there was someone behind the door.

You ducked as you saw a dark shadow go over your head. You heard the cockpit door slam shut, leaving you and the infiltrator in the small space to fight to the death. He was bigger than you and his face was unrecognizable. You had never seen this man before in your life, but what you did know is that he had to be here on Diyoza’s behalf. But how he got there you could not figure out.

Your team couldn’t hear you struggling over the turbulence and you refused to give up. He had the strength, but you had the intelligence, and you used it to your advantage.

You kneed the man in the balls as hard as you could once he was on top of you. He fell to the side, and you used it as an opportunity to hit him on the head with the barrel of your gun, knocking him unconscious.

You checked the coordinates on the dashboard, but you couldn’t recognize them either. The plane was on autopilot and low on fuel. If you turned off autopilot, you’d burn too much gas and the plane would spin out before you got to the coordinates’ destination.

“Damnit, Simon. Where are you when I need you?” you mumbled under your breath as you banged your hand on the dashboard. You placed your hands over your face and let out a scream loud enough for the team to hear over the ruckus of the plane.

One of your teammates barged into the cockpit, struggling to get through the door because of the unconscious man lying in front of it.

You sat in the pilot’s chair, staring outside of the window, watching as you flew over the open bodies of water that felt like they lasted forever.

“Are you alright?” the soldier, Bravo 4-8, asked. Of all the men in your squadron, you were the closest to him. He understood you. You understood each other. He knew the impact you wanted to make on the world. Like you, he grew up in a house full of women. It was noticeable from the first day you met with him. The respect he gave you like you were an equal and not just a woman trying to prove a point.

When you made a mistake, he didn’t ridicule you, but guided you. There were rumors that you two had slept together, but you both knew it wasn’t true. The rumors made you laugh, considering he wasn’t even attracted to women. You both gossiped about who in each squadron you considered attractive. Whenever there was a new commanding officer or someone substituting to train you, you’d both get in trouble for failing to contain your laughter when you snuck glances at each other after getting a good look at who was training you.

Most of the time, neither of you ever made a move. You were the first when you caught the Lieutenant’s eyes. Bravo 4-8 swore you were done when you were being reprimanded by the jarring lieutenant and instead of staring at him with the serious face that all soldiers and recruits give, you smiled instead. “Yes, sir,” you said, looking up at him with your big, soft brown eyes and full, soft lips.

No one had ever seen the Lieutenant so stuck before, hesitating to send you on your merry way. “Go-get back to work-,” he started before looking across your chest for your name tag. “Abara,” he finished. You weren’t actually being reprimanded for doing anything seriously wrong. The Lieutenant wanted not only an excuse to speak to you, but also to get your head back in the game. You were two laps ahead of the rest of the cohort and you had stopped to chat with your friend, and the Lieutenant wanted to make sure you stayed ahead of everyone else.

“Yes, s-,” you started.

“Just go,” he interrupted. “Don’t call me that.”

“Then, what am I supposed to call you?” you asked him. He couldn’t help to notice the cute tilt in your head, swaying of your arms that was actually a fidget that he came to notice later on.

“Anything but that. And keep still,” he responded.

“Yes, s-,” you began before catching yourself. He could practically see the wheels turning in your head as you thought of another name to call him. “Yes, Lieutenant…” you started, now glazing over his chest as you were now searching for his name tag. “Yes, Lieutenant Riley.” Everybody called the Lieutenant “sir”, but what he didn’t want you to know is that when it came out of your mouth, it did something to him.

You ran back to Bravo 4-8 for a few seconds before passing him, trying your best to contain your giggling, but he knew you couldn’t keep it up for long.

And now he was here with you, trying to figure out what the hell happened and why there was a random man in the cockpit. And oddly enough, he was the only one that could fly the plane.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, quickly rising up and moving past him. You reached for the unconscious man’s foot and‌ pulled him out of the way, making room for you to open the cockpit door and pull him through with Bravo 4-8 holding the door open for you.

“What the hell?” you hear some soldiers mumble.

You drag the man to the middle of the plane, all eyes now facing you both, mainly focused on the random man that was starting to wake up.

“Anyone know who this is?” you ask your members.

They each shook their head and you could tell they were all sincere. They were just as confused as you were. Until Diyoza woke up, you couldn’t ask her questions and even if you could, the chances of her being able to speak so soon were slim.

“Who’s flying the plane?” you hear someone ask.

“No one. It’s on autopilot. We’re low on fuel. Coordinates are set to an unknown destination,” you replied.

“Have Bravo 4-8 fly it and change the coordinates,” another soldier said.

“Like I said, we’re low on fuel. Autopilot can conserve some of it. If we put the plane on manual, we’ll run out of fuel before we reach either destination and we’ll drown in the ocean. The most we can do is change the coordinates,” you explained.

Bravo 4-8 was behind you and hung his head down, his face filled with guilt.

“How do you know so much about planes?” someone asked you.

“Had a few lessons while in the military,” you said.

“Ahhh. Flying lessons with the 141 Lieutenant. Is that foreplay or aftercare?’ Bravo 3-8 joked.

Everyone laughed like it was the funniest joke ever told. Everyone but you and Bravo 4-8. He quickly ended their silence when he announced, “We can’t change the coordinates.”

“What? Why?” you quizzed as you snapped your head back.

“It’s code activated. I tried. It’s not the usual code I use. It’s been changed. I tried every code I know. None of them worked,” Bravo 4-8 replied. His voice didn’t quiver. He wasn’t afraid of you. He spoke to you like a worried friend. A worried friend that wasn’t sure how you all were going to make it out.

“So, what? We just wait until the plane lands itself?” a soldier inquired.

“This plane on autopilot doesn’t land itself,” you explained.

“Not only that, but there isn’t enough fuel for the plane to be landed,” Bravo 4-8 added.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you murmur.

You can see the panic on each of the soldiers’ faces, their laughter quickly coming to a halt. Your only hope now was the random man on the ground. You took a look at everyone and peered down at one soldier putting pressure on Diyoza’s wound. The bleeding seemed to have slowed down, but you didn’t want to risk anything in case you were wrong.

You took a pair of handcuffs and placed them on the man’s wrist, strapping him to the pole of the metal seat. You sat in front of him, your knees bent and spread as you rested your forearms on them with your gun in your hand, waiting for him to wake up. You didn’t know what you would do. Torture wasn’t your thing. You hated it. Knowing that you were in a relationship with someone who could inflict such pain like it was nothing, you weren’t sure.

It didn’t make you uneasy. It didn’t make you attracted to him any less. The only thing it did was make you wonder why it wasn't a deal breaker. Why were you okay with that side of him? And why didn’t it scare you?

Maybe it was because you knew it was part of the job. There would be times that such crimes would be committed, even if no one spoke about them. Only those in higher authorities could get away with it.

Ghost was part of that higher authority.

You called yourself a hypocrite because how could you go calling Diyoza a terrorist when your own boyfriend had committed some of the same crimes?

They were different. Right? He didn’t kill innocent people like Diyoza did. He didn’t go planting bombs. But he tortured people. He imprisoned people. Those were crimes against humanity.

That would make him a war criminal.

But what did he have to go through for him to get to that point? And it was then you realized that Diyoza and Ghost may not be so different after all. What did Diyoza endure to conclude that what she did was okay? What did she know that you didn’t? What did she see?

You felt safe with Diyoza. Even after all she had done. You felt safe with Ghost even after all he had done. It was obvious there were parts of you that enjoyed that savagery, and you wondered if there were parts of you that could do what they did.

[dykedvonte]

I think depictions of Anya being cruel to Curly or drawing out his suffering are artful and chilling but completely miss the point of the story and her character.

I'm not saying she doesn't deserve to have that "I told you so" moment with him but not in something callous or cold. Even if that is how it happened, she'd immediately feel guilty cause at that point she's not tormenting her tormenter or even the person truly at fault. She's doing something cathartic, similar to how Jimmy likely hits Curly to release rage he can't against the rest of the crew. She'd see herself as no different when she'd come back from the moment and see Curly cowering at her. She wants someone to take responsibility but how does being cruel to the defenseless help? Why would she want the power Jimmy has over her over Curly?

The idea of her extending someone else's pain is just so against the struggles she already faces and how she can't even bring herself to cause someone pain even to help them. Her very desire is to release herself from her own suffering and I doubt she'd even fine some sort of guilty release in being cruel to another.

[dirtytransmasc]

atwow hot take:

if jake had said his "son for a son" shit out loud and spider had heard him, he would have been so beyond pissed, he would be seeing red.

spider loved his little siblings so much, neteyam included, even after they grew apart. he loved them like they were his own blood and protected them like they were too (we see a lot more of them together in the comics, where spider is the big brother without a doubt). neteyam's death most certainly rocked him hard, even if he hasn't really been able to show it (how could he? he's already going through all the shit with his dad and the RDA and their nonsense, he can't grieve around neytiri, he's just so tired after it all. he doesn't have the room or the energy to grieve yet)

so if jake had the audacity to say that to/around spider not even a few hours after he watched his little brother get shot after coming to save him, after he stared at the bullet hole in his back, after he watched him take his last breaths, after he watched the light leave his eyes, after he watched his little brother die for him; if he said that while his little brother's body lay in a pool of his own blood not even ten feet away, not even cold yet, blood still clinging to his chest, the scent of it still filling the air: he would have lost his shit.

because the disrespect for his brother is wild.

jake was an active player in spider's neglect and abuse for the last 16 years, he let it happen, he helped it happen. he tried to send spider with the humans, tried to take him away from his siblings, from the forests, from eywa to live with his foster family that didn't love him (not to mention Nash was an asswipe of epic proportions) and the RDA of all people. he had referred to spider as a stray animal since he was little. he was the reason spiders life was hell.

and after all that, years and years of putting him in shit positions and allowing him to suffer the fate of being forever unloved and uncared for (by an adult authority figure, cause I love the kids, but they don't make up for the gap left by a parent), this is what it took for jake to care about him? his little brother had to die in front of him first? he had to be traded out to fill the space of a corpse, to fill in the gap left by his little brother's death?

in canon, spider was in deep in shock with nothing to break him from it, he wasn't in the place to really think about any of it, and I'm sure we're gonna see this anger in the coming movies, but if jake had said it out loud, that would have been enough to snap spider right out of it, and he would have given jake a piece of his mind, I just know it.

[clarissaweasley-10]

This might be a controversial take, but l don't think Eve deserves or should get a redemption arc.