#mothers son relationship

[evilhorse]

We spit on the law!

(X-Men: The Wedding Special #1)

[demigods-posts]

i love thinking about percy and sally being each other's best friends before gabe and the other bullshit. like you can't convince me they didn't cuddle on the couch and watch movies. or ate cupcakes at ten o'clock on a friday night. or sang their heart out to disney movies at nine in the morning. like, they were each other's person.

[wibblyv]

You were seared onto my hearts, Amelia Pond. You always will be.

[waterwizardcat]

are you listening sukuna?

[zmasters]

Local warlords realize that the one hope for their legion is a 40 year old momma boy

[hauntedbythenarrative]

Wych elm, Susan Smith//House of the Dragon (2022-)

[think-flamian]

some talia and damian positivity <3

[cathrrrine]

just eat your food and say goodnight.

erik lehnsherr (magneto) x reader, platonic! peter maximoff (quicksilver) x reader • x-men (movies) • fluff, female reader

Summary: Peter Maximoff is a mischievous little shit. Y/N Lehnsherr and her husband Erik love him anyway. AO3

“Well, I’m calling it a night then.”

A content sigh escaped your lips as you stood up from your seat at the dining table and gingerly picked up your own dishes as well as the other empty ones left on the table. Those who noticed thanked you quickly before resuming their respective conversations — like Raven and Charles who were too busy bickering like children — while others made the effort to collect the ones on the other end of the table, namely Hank, Jean and Scott; the latter only doing so after being dragged by his girlfriend.

“Hey, you got an early class too, old man. Can’t risk waking up late with that back of yours.” You gestured to your husband, pointedly looking at him with a smirk on your face. He mirrored your expression, playfully cringing his nose to tease you but it only made you chuckle, a sound that was music to his ears.

“Good night then, everyone.” Erik stood up, following suit behind you, a melody of good night’s responding to him in different tones and variations of the phrase.

“The old man joke doesn’t age well with you, Y/N!”

Although muffled as he said it with a mouth full of food, it was clear enough for you to hear and snap your head towards him. Peter, the beloved speedster, snickered to himself at his own joke. He was too busy shoving chocolate pudding down his throat to notice that a couple of those around him had gone quiet, staring at him with disapproving eyes.

Raven reached over to flick the side of his head and Charles leaned back to give her the leeway, “Dumbass.”

“Ow!”

In your one thousand and thirty-five years of living, it was no surprise that all jokes about your age had grown stale. You hated them, having heard every single phrase on Earth…it was just plain boring to hear them make unoriginal jabs at your age at this point. If they got creative, you wouldn’t mind so much, but after hearing the same variations of the same jokes your whole life? Anyone would be understandably annoyed. Erik knew this, almost everyone at the table did as well. But, you figured it slipped Peter’s mind. It always did.

As he rubbed the side of his head, he stared angrily at the shapeshifter but was met by a pair of equally disappointed eyes that belonged to a certain Professor. A sheepish look fell on Peter’s face when he realised his mistake.

“You should know not to be too casual with your professors.” Charles raised an eyebrow.

Of course, you didn’t take it too seriously, he was a kid that meant no real harm so you didn’t really feel any real anger towards the young speedster, maybe even none at all. But he’s been bothering you too many times lately that it was starting to get on your nerves. So, you put on your Strict Professor Face and stared him down, determined to make him break a sweat at the very least. It probably wouldn’t put a cork in Peter’s attitude, but maybe you’d earn yourself a few weeks off from his incessant clowning.

Erik suppressed the grin that was starting to tug at his cheeks, he knew what you were doing, so he wordlessly took the stack of plates from your grip and continued your task for you. He caught Charles’ eye and they shared a knowing look for a brief moment.

Peter was in trroubleeeee.

“You do know how I feel about those jokes, Maximoff.”

“Funny, right?” He tried to play innocent, nervously smiling at you.

“I’ve told you so many times before that, no, I do not find them funny. We do not share the same sense of humour. Charles is right, you shouldn’t be so casual with me. We may be friends in your mind, but I’m still your professor, and I deserve at least a minimal amount of respect.”

Whew, that made even me sweat. Charles’ voice cackled in your mind.

Peter Maximoff was rarely left speechless, so it was an eighth wonder of the world to have him staring at you with his eyes widened and mouth shut. He gulped, shocked at being scolded by his favourite — although he’d never admit it to anyone — lecturer.

It hurt you too much to leave him that way, though. You were his favourite for a reason…that reason being how gracious you were to his faults that seemed to be never-ending. Relenting, you cracked a smile and used your powers to jolt him out of his daze and confusion. The sound of your chortling hit him with the reality behind the situation.

“Just messing with you, kid. I think you broke your own record for the longest time of being speechless.”

He rolled his eyes and groaned in effort to mask his relief, not wanting to admit she actually did get him back for once. “Unbelievable.”

“Serves you right for always making fun of me. I’m not kidding when I say it’s annoying!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever makes you feel better, grandma.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, “At least I’m not the one with greying hair.”

Peter frowned and opened his mouth, about to fire back a retort but you stopped him by laughing and ruffling his grey strands, “C’mon kid, just eat your food and say goodnight. Careful though, don’t choke.”

Your feet carried you over to your original destination, the intent of loading the dishwasher now appearing at the forefront of tour mind, but it was halted immediately.

As if someone had pushed him forward, Peter sped over to the sink area before you could even turn around, mumbling something about doing the dishes. You glanced curiously at the smiling telepath who simply gave you a shrug in return.

You bid your farewells to everyone again, Peter’s quip of ‘g’night’ not escaping you either when you went to pat him on the back affectionately.

A patiently waiting Erik tugged at your hand, clasping it in his own as he led you out of the kitchen and up the stairs, swinging your hands in tandem with his.

“You think he’s gonna be okay?” You worriedly asked aloud, suddenly very concerned that Peter wasn’t aware you had been joking. The role you played in his life was somewhat maternal, and you didn’t want him to think you were actually being curt with him.

“Who? Peter?” Erik gave you a sideways glance, “That boy’s smarter than he seems, he knows what you were doing. Don’t worry so much, darling. With how fast he moves, I’m sure his mind has moved on to other things by now.”

You hummed in reply, pleased with his answer. “Sometimes I think you might be the resident telepath with how good you are at reading my mind.”

“That’s just called being married to each other, my dear.”

———

“Y/N!” The sound of his sing-song voice was not what alerted you to Peter’s presence, nor was it the sound of his shoes squeaking before he rushed over with his powers, instead, it was the lack of formality. He never called you Professor or anything of the sort.

You never chided him for it, in fact, you’d be lying if you said you preferred the title as a prefix to your name. While many of your students were comfortable addressing you as such, anyone who felt more at ease with calling you by just your name was welcome to do so.

You had a first-year call you Mrs. Lehnsherr back then, when you and your husband were just newlyweds, but Erik was quick to remind them that if they wished to call you by your last name, it was to be Professor Lehnsherr instead, because, in his words, your accomplishments were not to be diminished and should be rightfully addressed.

It led to a whole debacle of mix-ups with two Prof. Lehnsherr’s roaming the hallways, which was a minor problem compared to the confusion of the paperwork.

The days of “Professor Lehnsherr?” “Yes?” “Sorry, not you Professor Lehnsherr, I meant you…Professor Lehnsherr,” had to come to an end, so you settled for whatever it is your students decided to call you…as long as it wasn’t demeaning.

However, no one called you Y/N, just Y/N, but the one and only Peter Maximoff himself.

The young man sped towards you, his hair swaying behind him from the strong gush of wind even as he came to a still in front of you.

“Pete!” You mocked the way he called you, using the same tone.

He gave you a playfully disgruntled look before quickly reaching into his backpack — which looked more like a knapsack, actually — to retrieve a cylindrical object and hand it to you nonchalantly. As soon you wrapped your fingers around it, he sped away again, a quick and impish ‘byeeee’ being the last thing within your earshot before the gush of wind took over your senses again.

It wasn’t until your day ended that you finally had the time to completely relax, stretching your legs and unbuckling your high-waisted, straight-legged pants. You wiggled your toes, sore from being in heels all day, as you relaxed into putty on yours and Erik’s shared bed.

Speaking of the devil — Erik came in not long after, tossing his shoes off and setting his things down on the bench next to your door before throwing himself on the bed next to you, also instantly letting himself relax.

He leaned closer to your side, laying his head on your chest and draping an arm over your stomach. Muscle memory kicked in as your fingers immediately found their way to run through his hair, a familiar habit between the two of you. He closed his eyes as the sweet, heavenly endorphins that came with the satisfaction of your touch washed over his body.

“How was your day?” He mumbled, too lazy to form his words properly.

“Pretty interesting. Finally convinced Logan to come to one of my classes next week. Students have been begging like crazy to meet him.” It was a history project, of which you and the Wolverine were both well-acquainted with, given your ages. “I’m getting the feeling that they think he’s a cooler teacher than I am.”

That made your husband laugh, the sound reverberating as you continued to cradle his head on your chest. “All of the students think Logan is cooler than any of us.”

“It’s not fair, isn’t it?”

“He’s like a mystery, that’s why. Never around long enough to be the one who yells at them for almost burning the school down.” He was talking, but his lips were barely moving and his eyelids were fluttering shut. You smiled softly, trying your best to keep your movements minimal as you continued your ritual to help him sleep.

“Like a cool uncle, then.”

“Yes.” A beat passed, then he spoke again when he remembered what he meant to tell you earlier. “Peter was in my class today.”

“Yeah?” You were slowly falling asleep as well, eyes half lidded and muscles starting to feel limp.

“He spent the whole of it with his head down, though.”

The very image of that made your eyes shoot open, all hints of sleep gone. “Why? What happened?”

It was unlike Peter to be uneventful — he was always doing something , be it throwing spitballs or participating in a one-sided blinking contest with whoever’s teaching in front.

“Nothing.” Erik mumbled groggily. “He was just…working on…something.”

Your skin itched and your eyebrows strained, discomfort firing up every synapse as you went through all the possible reasons. Then, your last interaction dawned on you.

“Honey, I know you’re almost asleep, so can you please hand me my bag on the bench?”

Without saying a word, he raised the arm resting on your body and used his powers to float it towards you, the metal handles clanking together when he dropped it carefully in your grip.

You didn’t have to move your sleeping husband to grab the cylinder you were thinking about, but you did almost startle him when his snores made you lose your grip on the bag.

He didn’t notice, too busy dozing off to even pay attention to what you were currently doing. You quietly unwrapped the roll of paper, barely caring about the sound of it crinkling — you knew your husband could sleep through anything when he was in your arms — since Erik’s snores were louder anyway.

The contents were confusing at first, you had to read it twice to understand that it was a voucher of some sort. With your arm still around Erik’s head, you used what restricted movement you had with your one free arm and just your hand to flip the paper over.

“What is this, Peter?” You mumbled to yourself, reaching for your glasses on the nightstand. Your vision weakened even in your abnormal age, and being far sighted was something you dealt with long before the triple digits hit you.

As if on cue, the answer to your rhetorical question was answered by the scrawling on the back which you recognised as Peter’s boyish handwriting.

‘Sorry for calling you old all the time. You know I’m just kidding. Thank you for always being so cool with me. Hope you like the vouchers for free ice cream. One’s for Erik too. - P.M’

Next to his initials was a doodle of a face with sunglasses on, a two-toothed grin to go with it. It was hard to wipe the pleasant smile off your face, so you kept it on, succumbing to the bubbly feeling. Peter was like a little brother that you couldn’t hate no matter how much you wanted to — you’d even go so far to say he was the son you never had.

You flipped it again, only noticing the name of the store being dairy goods related as you read through it for the third time. It still left you confused, since there was no sign of anything being free printed on it.

That’s when your eyes landed on the italicised font at the very bottom, bold red asterisks between the phrase.

* SENIOR CITIZENS GET 1 FREE CONE . *

Quickly, you turned it around to look at what you thought was an innocent letter written by one seemingly apologetic speedster. You didn’t miss the joke this time, written in very, very emboldened ink, so roughly scratched on the surface you wondered how you missed it in the first place. The smile you had on dimpled into a disbelieving simper.

P.S. HOPE YOU ARE WEARING YOUR GRANDMA GLASSES :D

[theamberfist]

The Common Enemy | Dad Alastor

Familial! Alastor is Reader's Adopted Dad from life

Description: When you bring home your new partner (platonic or romantic), neither your dad, nor your son are enthusiastic about it. So for the evening, they decide to put their hatred for each other aside and unite against their common enemy.

(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of murder, death, violence) (manipulation) (gender neutral reader) (Reader is Alastor's adopted child) (Reader is an adult) (Reader has an adopted son)

❀ This oneshot is based on the I'm a Grandpa! Headcannons I wrote a bit ago. I recommend reading them before this but you don't have to! ❀

❀ Reader has a partner in this; they are written as gender neutral and can be platonic or romantic! ❀

Words: 6,497

Alastor never thought he and Amon would ever agree on anything; aside from the fact that they hated each other, of course.

The young boy had been a complete nuisance to him since the day they'd met, but because you seemed to love him so much, he'd had to constantly play nice with the child and act like the doting 'grandfather' you expected him to be.

How he hated being called that. 

The Radio Demon himself had adopted you when you were very young. He'd had his own reasons at the time (mainly entertainment value and the avoidance of suspicion being a single dad would bring him), but he'd always been an attentive and loving father to you, despite being a cannibal serial killer underneath it all.

Since you'd grown after his death, it seemed you'd chosen to follow in his footsteps and take in a child of your own; a choice he wished he could have prevented you from making. Not only that, but you seemed to expect Alastor to love the boy! 

Amon was a disaster of a child. Where you had been well-behaved, kind, and polite, he growled at people like a feral cat and only ever answered to you. But on top of that, he hid his more violent tendencies so you'd think he was a better-behaved kid than he actually was; masking it all behind a sweet smile and a deep love for his parent.

It almost reminded Alastor of himself when he was younger, which was what he hated about it. 

There was no room in the Radio Demon's heart (if he had one) for anything but his love for his child, entertainment, and the radio itself; and it seemed Amon felt much the same way about his parent as well.

Which meant the two of them were constantly competing for your attention, whether you knew it or not. Sometimes you would be tending to Amon; making him food or supervising him as he played or tucking him into bed, and your father would suddenly barge into the room claiming he had 'urgent news' or that whatever he needed your help with simply could not wait another second as he pulled you away from your son; not forgetting to smirk triumphantly at the child from behind your back as the two of you left.

Conversely, there had been plenty of times where you'd been enjoying tea with Alastor, listening to his radio broadcast, or exchanging gossip, and Amon had come running into the room claiming to be gravely injured and in need of your help, or that he'd had a nightmare or something else had occurred that needed your attention. Seeing that evil smirk reflected back at him by the child as the two of you would leave hand-in-hand always made Alastor grit his teeth.

More recently, though, a third party had surfaced that was now beginning to demand your attention more often than not; putting both grandfather and grandson on edge. 

You had gotten a partner. Alastor wasn't sure when it had happened, considering he made it his job to oversee most of what you did in hell, even if he wasn't technically present (the power to manipulate shadows while remaining mostly undetected only seemed to become more useful now that his child was in hell with him). He wasn't able to get any answers out of Amon either, as expected, but it seemed that the boy was just as confused as him about how this could have occurred. 

Nevertheless, you had a partner now. You'd broken the news to them both at dinner one night, not even realizing how the news sent them both silently spiraling in their seats. 

Your father had pretended to be mostly unbothered, asking when that had happened. You'd explained that it was new; that you and your partner had only decided to call one another that recently after having hung out a few times. Amon seemed to choke on his food at that and you gently patted his back as Alastor nodded, calmly congratulating you while being sincere about none of it. 

And now, a day later, you would be bringing your partner to dinner to meet the 'two most important people in your life.' Alastor also despised being called that. As your father; the very man that had raised you, shouldn't he have been the most important person in your life? It shouldn't have mattered that you'd now taken in this...parasite!

At present, both he and Amon stood in the living room of the home you all shared, waiting for you to come through the doors with your new partner. Based on the boy's tense muscles, Alastor gathered he hadn't been put in this situation before, meaning this was, indeed, the first serious partner you'd had. 

And, with any luck, they would also be the last. 

Neither of them seemed willing to take a seat as they waited, remaining with their eyes fixed on the door. Alastor knew you were about a block away from the house right now thanks to his shadows, but as for the kind of person you'd be bringing home, he would have to wait until you arrived to find out. 

He glanced at Amon again, who had gotten himself dressed up and presentable for dinner on his own. When asked, though, Alastor would of course claim he'd helped the boy like he was supposed to have done. Thankfully, your son looked much more presentable than he had the day Alastor met him. 

The Radio Demon silently sighed as he recalled how you and him had reunited in hell. After so long apart, it would have been a completely lovely moment, had the child not been there to ruin it. 

..........

You and Amon had been walking down one of hell's many streets. Apparently, he wasn't very enthusiastic to meet whoever you'd been looking for because he dragged behind you slightly as he walked. Still, he remained silent and didn't complain so you let him get away with it; glancing back every few seconds to make sure he was still alright and following behind you, not that the kid would ever have dreamed of allowing himself to get separated from his parent. 

At the time, Alastor had already managed to locate you through one of his shadows, and with the knowledge that you really were in hell now, had begun casually making his way in your direction as if he, too, was on a simple stroll. 

That was when he'd finally gotten within your earshot and, knowing you would recognize his voice, turned to the nearest demon to ask them for directions he didn't actually need. 

The second you heard him speak, you'd recognized him as your papa from when you were alive and had nearly teared up as you gazed at him. In turn, the Radio Demon's eyes had landed on you as his smile softened into something more genuine. 

"Papa...?" You called, stopping in your tracks. Amon stopped too but kept his eyes trained on the ground, not wanting to interact with whoever you were talking to. He was content just to trail after his parent like a lost puppy and prevent any harm from coming to them with his own hellish powers, it seemed. 

Immediately, Alastor had appeared beside you and pulled you into a hug as you finally let the tears spill out of your eyes. "Finally, my little one, I've found you." He said softly as you leaned into the hug. Just like when you were alive, it seemed you were the only person the Radio Demon was so comfortable touching, and he held you close to him as he took in the fact that he really did have his child back after all this time. "How I've missed you..."

The moment was promptly interrupted, though, when he noticed the little boy standing directly behind you. Upon noticing his sudden silence, Amon had looked up to meet Alastor's eyes. Not only that, but he'd glared as if the Radio Demon had done something wrong by hugging his own child (Of course, Alastor didn't deny that he had done plenty of wrong things but this was certainly not one of them).

Seeing Amon like that immediately made rage bubble within the overlord and without a second thought, he'd created a tentacle that appeared from the ground and grabbed the little boy, pulling him away from you.

A random child following his own kid around had to have bad intentions, after all, so in his mind, he'd been protecting you.

You, of course, realized what was happening almost immediately and called out to Alastor. "Dad!" You shouted as you pulled away from the Radio Demon and turned back to your child, who was currently dangling upside down in the clutches of a black tentacle-thing. Amon, however, seemed less than concerned as he swung over the ground, simply snapping his fingers to create a black hole behind the two of you. It started sucking in everything nearby, aside from you, and Alastor's smile seemed to only get angrier as he was slowly pulled further and further from you now.

"Amon, what did I tell you about using your power in public?" You said as you placed both hands on your hips and turned back to the boy. The black tentacle holding him only seemed to tighten its grip now though; as if trying to squeeze the life out of him. Behind you, Alastor was having to grip a crack in the sidewalk to keep form being sucked into your son's pit of death, which only made his own power that much more violent as Amon was raised higher in the air; probably to then be dropped back to the ground again.

"Dad!" You called, but it fell on deaf ears, "Amon!" Neither one of them made another move or even looked at you and finally, your patience began to wear thin. Taking a step between the two of them so your body now blocked their views of one another, you put out both your hands. "Both of you; cut it out!" Your voice boomed and this time it was finally enough to make them both stop; freezing as their powers ceased. Amon fell to the floor now that there was no tentacle holding him up but was relatively unharmed. You sighed in exasperation.

Gesturing for your son to come over and stand by your side- which he promptly did- you turned back to the Radio Demon. "Dad," you spoke in a calmer tone now, "This is Amon; I adopted him when I was still alive." Alastor's eyes widened at that but you just turned back to the little boy.

"Amon, this is your grandpa." 

"This is the guy you told me about?" The kid asked with a tone of slight disgust. At the moment, Alastor's own disdain wasn't being hidden very well either and you sighed.

"Yes; we're all family now." You made a point to look at your dad as you said that; who rolled his eyes but didn't protest. He was aware a good few years had passed since his death, and that you'd been left all alone since then, but a part of him had always hoped he'd never have to deal with you bringing in...extra family members like this. What was next; a pet dog? A spouse? 

"We've been looking for you since we got down here," you went on to explain to the red deer-like demon, "I wanted you to get to meet your grandson." Internally, you'd hoped this meeting would have gone better than it did. After all, you'd always hoped for your dad to be proud of you; especially when it came to things as big as this. Alastor, noticing this, did his best to hide how much he hated the situation.

"I see," he said with a sigh before finally turning to Amon, who still stood by your side. Bending down, the Radio Demon held a hand out to the child. "Then I suppose it is a pleasure to meet you...child." He trailed off as Amon took his hand and shook it; his grip more firm than that of most adults. Neither of them enjoyed the physical contact with one another but so long as you were watching, they had to play along. 

Alastor stood up straight now, turning his back to you so you wouldn't see how he immediately wiped his hand on his jacket. It was at times like this when he missed the days where he used to carry a pack of wet wipes for sanitation, like when you were little. 

"Now, I suppose since you both are new, you haven't seen much of what hell has to offer!" He exclaimed, immediately putting on a cheerful attitude that made Amon's glare worsen, "Allow me to give you a personal tour!" You smiled at that, placing a hand on your son's shoulder. Of course, there were many things you and your father would have to discuss now that you'd been reunited, but for now, you just wanted to enjoy being able to be around him again after having lost that in life. 

"We would love that, dad." Amon had to disagree, but he kept quiet about it, nonetheless. Alastor's grin widened and he immediately took you by the arm, ignoring how the young boy immediately moved around to walk on your other side.

And thus began a feud between grandfather and grandson.

..........

The door to your home opened now and both Alastor and Amon stiffened as you entered, followed by a sinner neither of them recognized. They looked nervous but your smile only widened as you shut the front door behind the two of you. 

"And here they are!" You exclaimed with pride as you gestured to Alastor, then Amon.

"This is my dad and this is my son, Amon." You smiled brightly. The other sin waved awkwardly as the Radio Demon's head tilted in both intrigue and disgust. Amon crossed his arms but gave them a curt nod.

"N-nice to meet you both!" Your partner squeaked as you attempted to ignore the obvious fear in their voice. Of course, you briefed them about your family. Amon, as a sinner child with some extraordinary powers, could be quite intimidating, and Alastor was the feared Radio Demon himself. You'd made sure your partner knew what they were getting into beforehand, but nothing could have prepared them for quite how scary this moment would be. 

"Pleasure to be meeting you, quite the pleasure!" Alastor spoke, though his supposed enthusiasm didn't match his tone at all as he did so. The sinner beside you nodded and then Amon spoke up.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance!" He said, displaying all the manners you'd instilled in him over the years. Your smile widened, feeling slightly reassured by their welcomes. Though, you could still sense the growing tension in the air. Deciding not to let it fester, you turned to your partner.

"I still need to finish up making dinner; want to help me?" You asked. They nodded almost too eagerly, wanting nothing more than to be away from the rest of your family. Your dad's eyes narrowed at that.

"Need I remind you, dear, that I am hardly unequipped when it comes to the kitchen?" Alastor called as you began making your way to the door, followed by your partner. "I am more than happy to offer my assistance!"

"Or I can help!" Amon said, eager to prove himself as the more helpful one of the two. 

"That's okay!" You told them with a kind smile, "I think we've got it handled. Why don't you two set the table and we'll meet you in the dining room in a few minutes?" Your partner looked beyond relieved at that, wanting a few minutes alone with you to discuss whether this night really was a good idea. Neither Amon, nor Alastor seemed enthusiastic about their assigned task but they didn't protest either; letting you head off into the kitchen and closing the door behind you. 

Once you were gone, Alastor snapped his fingers, summoning a few of his shadow creatures that then ran off to set the dining room table like you'd requested. Amon ignored his antics, heading for the room himself, but with no intention of actually doing the chore you'd assigned. It wasn't lost on him how the shadow creature set every place at the table beside his own so he got to work preparing his own spot. That way, it wouldn't look like he'd been slacking. 

Alastor came into the dining room too, but rather than helping out at all, he simply pressed his ear to the wall connected to the kitchen in the hopes of hearing your conversation with your partner. Sure, he could have sent a shadow in to listen to you, but then there would be too much risk of you noticing it and getting mad at him; something he would have preferred to prevent right now. 

Once Amon's place at the table had been set, he went over to the opposite corner of the same wall and pressed his ear to it as well.

Not much could be heard from the kitchen, aside form your occasional laughter and light chatter with the sinner you now seemed so fond of. It made the Radio Demon's blood boil just hearing it, and judging by the clear glare on your son's face, Amon was no fan either. 

"Why do they even need him?" He asked as he crossed his arms and stepped away from the wall now. "We don't need any more surprise family members." It wasn't lost on Alastor how the child glanced his way while stating the last part.

However, having confirmation of the child's dislike toward your partner did give him an idea.

"I couldn't agree more," he replied, sending a look at Amon, whose glare only deepened, "I suppose all we can do, however, is wait and hope they eventually break things off with one another." He gave a shrug before inspecting his nails in disappointment. Just as he'd hoped, that sentence was enough to plant the seed of an idea in your son's head.

"Or speed up the process." Amon said with a mischievous grin now. The Radio Demon made a show of raising his eyebrow at that.

"Why, are you suggesting we break them up ourselves? A scheme, perhaps?" He asked with fake surprise in his tone. Amon just nodded. Alastor pretended to pause for a moment, letting the boy continue.

"I don't like you," he admitted, "And I don't like having a grandpa now, but I like them even less." He tilted his head toward the kitchen, referring to your partner. "So I think we should call a truce; just long enough to get rid of them." Alastor's smile only widened. It seemed this boy really was like a younger version of himself, and right now, he was thankful for that.

"I suppose that would solve both of our problems," he admitted with a hum, "And for the record, I do not enjoy having a grandson now, either." There was another pause before he finally brought to light the question he'd been wanting to ask this whole time. "Alright, then how about we make a deal?" Green smoke appeared on his hand and Amon shielded his eyes form its bright light. 

"I'm not supposed to make deals with anyone," he said carefully, glancing at the wall of the kitchen, where you were. Alastor supposed that, after having that rule drilled into you by him upon reaching hell, you'd passed it down to your son, too. 

"This wouldn't be a deal for your soul," he clarified, "More like an...Agreement. You and I work together to break up their relationship tonight, and the obligation ends there. The catch is that you must be willing to work with me until then, dear grandson." The term of endearment felt more insulting to Amon than anything, but after a moment, he nodded, taking the hand of his grandfather reluctantly. 

"Alright." He replied, and with that, the deal was (quietly) made.

..........

After what felt like an eternity, you and your partner came out of the kitchen, bringing the food you'd prepared into the dining room, where you set it on the table. 

"We saved you a seat!" Amon exclaimed happily, pointing to the chair beside him. There were plenty of spaces at the table, so it wasn't as if he needed to do so, but you did as he said in order to please him anyway. The way they'd set it up, you sat between your son and your father with your partner directly across from you as if they were being interrogated. They chuckled awkwardly upon realizing this but didn't bring it up.

You started passing around the food, allowing your family members to take whatever they wanted and helping Amon serve himself as needed. Meanwhile, the glances exchanged between Alastor and the little boy went unnoticed by you.

"So, what is it you do, my esteemed fellow?" Alastor asked your partner, though his tone held anything but genuine curiosity. They gulped.

"W-well..." They began as you nodded encouragingly, "...I work in technology." That gave the Radio Demon pause and there was a slight static noise before he replied.

"I see." He said, "And what sort of technology do you work with, then?"

"M-mostly television," your partner admitted carefully, "I work for Channel 666, specifically." You could sense the growing tension at that; your dad had never exactly been fond of television. You'd grown accustomed to it, though, especially because Amon had always loved it. Turning to him, you expected a more positive reaction, but instead were met with an unamused ten-year-old. 

"Sounds boring." He said and you nearly choked on your food. The Amon you knew would never have thought that; had something happened to your kid?

The rest of the meal passed mostly in silence, aside from your occasional contributions. Alastor was more than happy to divulge memories between you and him as he'd raised you, and Amon was always glad to talk about how much he loved his parent, but the second you tried to bring your partner into the conversation, they both promptly shut down.

It was very awkward.

Finally, everyone finished their food and Amon turned to you with an eager expression; as if he'd just remembered something very important. 

"(Preferred Parent Name), remember that drawing I was working on earlier?" He asked as politely as possible as Alastor stared from behind your back. 

"Yes, is it done already?" You asked, excited to see the final result of the project he'd been nurturing for several days already. The boy shook his head but pushed his chair back.

"No," he admitted, "But could you please come pose for it? I need the reference if I'm going to draw you, too!" He was already standing and taking your plate off the table, as well as his own. He deliberately ignored both Alastor and your partner's dishes as he awaited your response. 

"Of course, sweetheart," you grinned, ruffling his hair as you pushed your own chair back and went to stand up, "Maybe we can all come see-" Before you finish your sentence, Amon interrupted.

"No!" He nearly shouted. Behind you, Alastor's smile tightened in a way that told the child to watch his tone when speaking to you. "I...Don't want anyone to see the unfished drawing but you." Amon said, gently taking your hand now. "Please? I promise it won't take long!" 

You still seemed unsure, turning back to your partner, who was shaking their head urgently in the hopes it would prevent you from leaving them all alone with the Radio Demon. Unfortunately for them, though, your dad piped up before they could.

"Why not humor the boy, dear?" He asked with the soft, genuine smile he only ever extended towards you, "After all, I assure you I'm perfectly capable of entertaining our guest in the meantime!" He practically spat the word out but you didn't seem to notice as Amon continued tugging on your hand.

"Alright, alright," you told your son with a chuckle before glancing back at the terrified sinner, "I'll be right back!" You assured them, and then with that you finally disappeared into Amon's room.

Now left alone with your dad, your partner turned to face Alastor again, only to see the Radio Demon already staring them down with a sinister smile. His eyes had turned into radio dials that seemed to be glowing in the now dimly-lit room. 

"Now that we're alone," Alastor spoke as radio static began seeping into his tone, "I believe there is something we must discuss." 

The sinner jumped out of their chair and scrambled back as Alastor seemed to grow, climbing over the table towards them. Black tentacles started growing out of his back and there was a green glow wherever his overlord powers persisted. 

"P-please, I've done nothing wrong!" They tried to shout, only to be silenced as one of the tentacles grabbed them and squeezed around their body. Alastor was towering over them now as he stared into their eyes with his own. 

"What you've done is get involved with a family in which you do not belong." He snarled. His antlers, which had previously been small, had grown off his head now and tapped against the ceiling with how tall he was. "So, if you value your life, here's what you're going to do..."

Before the Radio Demon could finish, though, the sound of a door opening nearby caught his attention and in an instant he'd reverted back to normal, standing over your partner as their shaking body collapsed on the ground. They gasped for breath; unable to take their eyes off him for fear he would kill them if they did. 

"My dear!" Alastor called as he noticed you now coming back from Amon's room, followed by the young boy, "Finished his drawing already, has he?"

"Only the sketch," the child replied calmly. A whole conversation was exchanged between the two of them through their eyes, with the Radio Demon questioning why they hadn't been gone longer and Amon seeming having been unable to keep you distracted much more. "But it will be enough for me to work with when I feel more inspired." 

You glanced at your partner, who was still laying on the floor, and raised an eyebrow. Seeing the realization begin to appear in your eyes, Alastor promptly spoke. "I was just helping this fine fellow off the floor!" He explained as he extended his cane towards the sinner now, "It seems they are quite clumsy." He stared into your partner's eyes, daring them to say anything other than an agreement. Luckily, they seemed to get the message. 

"Thank you..." They managed as they grabbed ahold of the end of your father's cane and allowed him to pull them off the ground. He nodded in response. 

"Well, I'm glad you two are getting along..." You replied, though you were clearly suspicious. You weren't an idiot; you knew how your father was. And though you hoped he would have gotten over some of his overprotective tendencies since you were an adult (and a parent) yourself now, you wouldn't have put it past him to be plotting something.

Before you could think much more about it, though, Alastor spoke up again. 

"While we're on the topic," he began, bringing up a topic you certainly had not been on, "I wanted to show you where I decided to hang that painting; the one you so generously gifted me last week!" He didn't even need to fake an enthusiastic tone at the memory; after all, his own child had gone out of their way to buy him such a nice piece of artwork simply because they'd thought he would like it! He was touched.

"Oh," you said, remembering that he'd mentioned wanting to find a place to hang it up, "I'm sure wherever you picked is great, dad." You glanced at your partner again and Alastor could tell you didn't want to leave them alone a second time, but he wasn't about to back down either. 

"Why, thank you, dear, but this is your home too! I want to make sure you appreciate my interior decoration skills as much as I do!" He exclaimed, "It had slipped my mind before, but now that I recall, it simply cannot wait!" He started heading for the hallway again, gently taking you by the arm. You sighed but didn't protest. 

"Alright." You said before looking back to your partner and son, "Amon, be nice, okay? I'll be right back!" And with that, you disappeared once again. 

Your partner sighed in slight relief. Though they could tell your son didn't like them any more than your dad did, he at least seemed less dangerous than the Radio Demon, they thought.

The boy's immediate glare told them they'd likely thought wrong, though, and he snapped his fingers, immediately creating a black hole behind them that began sucking nothing in except the sinner themselves. A targeted black hole, one could call it. 

"I don't like you." The child told your partner, "I'll make your death look like an accident." He was, of course, very good at doing so. He'd hidden almost all his violent tendencies from you for years, after all, and he wasn't about to let his dear parent find out he would be behind this, either. 

You would definitely ground him for life if you did.

"Please, Amon!" The sinner cried as they held onto the carpet for dear life, "Just tell me what you want! I could be the best second parent you could ask for!" The boy's expression darkened at that and the black hole seemed to only get stronger. 

"I don't want another parent!" He shouted, glad Alastor was using his powers to prevent you from hearing any of this from the other room, "The one I have is perfect! I don't need grandpa, and I don't need you!" His power's increased strength was enough to finally break your partner's grip on the carpet now and they went flying back towards the black hole.

Just before they were engulfed, though, the hallway door opened once again and Amon was forced to make his powers disperse in order to prevent you from seeing the scene. 

"(Preferred Parent Name)," He said with a smile as he turned to you, "How was Grandfather's painting placement?" Alastor's eyes narrowed at the title but he said nothing as he followed you into the room. Unfortunately, he could only make the viewing of a painting take so long, and you two had been back before he'd wished it. 

"Perfect, as expected." You grinned back, then noticed your partner on the floor, "Did you fall again?" 

They were still shaking slightly but they gulped at the sight of Amon's dark glare. "They seem to lack spatial awareness tonight," the boy said with a shrug before stepping forward and offering his hand to the sinner. "Here, please let me help you up." Since his back was turned to you, your son smiled evilly down at your partner and they couldn't bring themselves to accept his offer, even if it would upset you.

Pushing themselves off the floor on their own, they drew in a breath and then turned to you. "Can we talk in private?" Your eyebrows raised at that but you nodded, gesturing for them to follow you into the hallway. They did so, scurrying after you as they eyed Alastor cautiously.

Once the two of you had disappeared, the Radio Demon turned to Amon with a satisfied smile, both of them knowing exactly what this would be about. 

"What is it?" You asked your partner with concern. They took a deep breath, remembering that you'd warned them your family could be eccentric. They'd been prepared for some weirdness but hadn't expected anything like this. 

"I don't think I can do this," they admitted, your face immediately falling at the words. "I can't get along with your family."

"You promised you'd try," you said, feeling very dejected, "I told you who my dad was and you said it didn't matter!"

"That was at the beginning of our relationship!"

"So?" You asked.

"So, I didn't plan for us to be this serious!" Your partner finally replied, "I didn't think I'd end up having to meet your family!" You froze at that. Meanwhile, Alastor and Amon, who had their ears pressed to the hallway door, both exchanged angry glances at the idea of anyone daring speak to you like that. 

"You told me you wanted us to be permanent," you said in as calm a tone as you could manage.

"I do," your partner replied, gently taking both your hands in their own.

"Then...Can you please try to get along with them?" You asked, "They both mean the world to me." Your partner sighed. They'd known this about you since before you two got into a relationship. Your family was too important for you to ever brush them aside, and if they couldn't make that relationship work, they knew there was little chance their relationship with you would either.

"Fine." They said finally, "I'll try." After all, you would be with them for the rest of the evening, wouldn't you? It wasn't like your dad or son would have another chance to try and kill them with you present. 

Outside, Alastor and Amon's smiles both widened creepily. Had your partner simply told you what they'd done, they knew you would have believed it. After all, they had less than perfect reputations when it came to violence. But since they'd chosen to keep quiet about all that, it seemed the game was still on. 

"Thank you." You smiled, pulling the sinner into a warm hug. They took it in for a moment and then you pulled away. "I'm going to go to the restroom, so please try to at least talk to them while I'm gone?"

The second you said that, your partner's face fell. They were so dead. You didn't seem to notice the fear that appeared on their face as you turned and headed for the restroom. They gulped, debating whether to heed your request and face the family members again or stay right here where it was assumably safe until you returned. 

Their choice seemed to be made for them, though, when the door to the hallway slid open and an inky black tentacle moved toward them. They wanted to scream, but before they could, it grabbed them and squeezed once again, dragging them back into the living room where it closed the hallway door behind it. 

There, both Alastor and Amon stood with sinister smiles as they watched the tentacle hold your partner up. Amon snapped his fingers again and another black hole appeared; this time directly below where the sinner was dangling. They let out a cry of fear, only for it to be cut off by the pressure of the black tentacle. 

"We tried to warn you to get lost." Amon said as he crossed his arms in supposed disapproval, "Now you have to pay for it."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Alastor added as his eyes became radio dials once again. With that, the tentacle let go of your partner and they were dropped into the black hole. They screamed as the bottom half of their body was enveloped by it and they were about to fall all the way through when the door to the hallway opened once again and everything returned to normal with your partner panting on the floor. 

"(Preferred Parent name)!" Amon called as he ran over and hugged you for no apparent reason. You smiled and wrapped your arms around him before looking up at Alastor and your partner. 

"Everything alright?" You asked. The Radio Demon was about to reply but the sinner spoke before he could get the chance. 

"No!" They shouted, "Everything is most certainly not alright!" They stood from where they'd been laying on the ground; still panting heavily. "I can't take it anymore! I've been nothing but cordial to these...Monsters! And they still hate me! I'm done!" They stomped towards the front door as your eyes widened.

Again, Alastor felt they'd missed the big point of him and your son having tried to kill them but it only worked in favor of his plan so he supposed he could let that slide. 

"What do you mean?" You asked, following after your partner as you let go of Amon. 

"We're done!" They finally shouted, turning back to you, "Don't contact me again; all of you are insane!" They gestured to the three of you before turning and slamming the front door behind them. You froze for a few seconds as they left.

After a moment, though, the tears you'd felt coming on finally fell and you sunk to your knees. Immediately seeing their opportunity, Alastor and Amon moved in to hug you; one of them on either of your sides. 

"It's okay, (Preferred Parent Name)," the little boy comforted as he leaned into your right shoulder, "They seemed like a meanie anyway!" You chuckled through your sobs at that. Leave it to your kid to always notice those red flags before you did.

"The boy is right, darling," Alastor added, "And you still have your family here to support you! When you feel a bit better, I'll make your favorite recipe, hm?" You sniffled at that before nodding. 

"Thanks, dad." You said softly as you leaned into your father's embrace. Amon leaned into yours too and you held him in a similar way to how you would a giant stuffed animal. "You two are the best...I guess that's why you're my two favorites, huh?"

For once, neither of them felt anger at having to share that title. You closed your eyes as you wiped some of the tears form your cheeks and Amon exchanged a glance with the Radio Demon, who seemed surprisingly content. Like before, no words were needed between them to convey what they wanted to say, and after a minute, Alastor nodded down at the boy approvingly.

It would likely be the last time he ever did so, and soon they would go back to their usual dynamic, but at least for tonight, you'd managed to bring the two of them together. It seemed having a grandson wasn't the worst thing; Alastor realized.

If nothing else, the little boy had proved himself quite useful in the face of a challenge like today, and he could appreciate that.

He still hated being called 'grandpa,' though. 

[not-so-superheroine]

Jesus is my older brother, not my dad.

other christians don't seem to feel the same?

am i missing something where he insists on such a thing except perhaps with actual little children?

[markanddebbie-protectionprogram]

Debbie might have cried over Nolan in the season 1 finale. But the way they made her lose it is such an important thing for the writers to show. She's sad, she's devastated, and she's also angry.

This is a woman has repressed such immense sadness and anger. She held herself together and yet the moment she broke, her son immediately witnessed her breakdown.

The way she immediately turned away from Mark when it sunk to her that he's really there. In the flesh. It breaks my heart, because she doesn't want him to see her that way.

She didn't even want him to be near her at first. She could barely speak at all that she had to hold her hand out to stop him. And even though she did that, she let her other hand stay on her face to keep the tears covered from him.

And Mark sees her. He's sad too. And he knows that his mom is tired as well. He knows she needs him.

I love how much he loves his mom and that he knows her enough to understand what she needs.

He didn't stay standing up then put a comforting hand on her shoulder. He kneeled at her side and waited for her.

Debbie didn't need space.

Debbie didn't need words of reassurance.

She just needed someone to be with her, to be held and given a space where she can just be.

[demigods-posts]

imagine sally taking percy to montauk over the years. using the hours that he's asleep to sit along the beachside shore. remembering the nights she had with poseidon. basking in the delicate breeze on a soft bed of sand. stolen kisses under the moonlight. a love she never thought she'd find. and then her world came crashing like the tide. now all she has left of poseidon is a child he can't help her raise. but she loves percy with all her might. and they'll be okay soon enough.

and then imagine sally taking paul to montauk. using the hours he's asleep to sit along the beachside shore. remembering the nights she had with percy. making smores with blue-tinted marshmallows. the two of them staying up too late at night bingeing soap operas. a happiness she never thought she'd be able to provide for her son. and then her world came crashing down once more. now all she has left of percy is an empty bedroom and a missed phone call from the otherside of the country. but word from camp is that annabeth found him. and if that rings true. then they'll be okay soon enough.

[shyjusticewarrior]

Damian and Talia's relationship is interesting cause she simultaneously raised him to be a hyper-competent, independent, adultified child and also never cut the umbilical cord.

[birbwell]

pietà

[susellesie]

Succession, S3 E10: With Open Eyes; Sam Gordon, "A Mother's Hate"; Ella Wilson, Take Care: Mothers, Daughters, and Inheriting Self-Hatred; Jeanette Winterson "Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal"

[multifandom-nerds-blog]

I'm rewatching Trollhunters in the background right now, and the disfunctional mother son relationship between Jim and his mom is making me crazy.

Like, he's taking care of the household and his mother for years as a teenager and before probably. She is sometimes giving half hearted comments about him not having to do so much, but very obviously she's not gonna make him stop do all the cooking and cleaning. Y'know. Both because they've been living like this for years, and because it's obviously also very comfortable to have someone do all the house work.

Then Strickler comes into the picture, and if we ignore the whole Troll and changeling side of the story, Barabara gets very offended cause Jim doesn't want her to meet him privately. Again, ignoring the whole magic and trolls stuff, STRICKLER IS JIMS TEACHER. If Jim hadn't figured out that Strickler was a changeling he probably wouldn't have a problem with it, but the fact that he does, no matter the reason, should be enough for Barbara to put a stop to the relationship. Her child is clearly uncomfortable with her seeing/dating that guy, for whatever reason, and even clearly vocalized it. But she doesn't care about, or rather, she tells Jim that she "wouldn't expect something like that" from him. Obviously not, cause she may see him like her child/teenager he is, BUT DOESN'T TREAT HIM LIKE ONE.

And then Jim, unknowingly to Barbara, becomes the Trollhunter, and his behavior changes. He's suddenly doing reckless stuff, sneaking out, getting bruises, landing in detention and even at the police station, barely avoiding a police report. What does she do? Asking him what's going on? If everything's alright at school? If he has any other problems? Maybe trying to lower his workload around the house, which again, he's doing most of that as a teenager and longer probably.

Nah. She doesn't do anything until he lands in the hospital. Except for again, dismissing him rather negatively at the one topic he's openly expressing any negative opinions about (Strickler). And after he lands in the hospital she now starts not asking questions, but demanding answers. Demanding answers from a teenager in a difficult situation who is also now acting much more like a teenager than he ever did before, from her point of view at least. Except she obviously doesn't know how to deal with a teenager, cause she has never had to raise or live with a teenager. She instead lived with a child pretending to be an adult for years, that was partly much more of an adult than she was, who did way to much work even before Jim became the Trollhunter. So she throws punishments at him and grounds him, but does he listen?

No. Cause why should he? Not only is he dealing with things much more important than being grounded, yknow, saving the world, he's trying to protect her from the sheer knowledge of the supernatural and physically protecting her from getting harmed. And again, for the majority of the time since his dad left he pretended to be an adult. He was and is the main adult in the household, dealing with important things she doesn't even know about.

The only one's treating Jim like a teenager are teachers, other children and Blinky and Aaargh sort of when they're not in the middle of Troll business. Strickler, in the first episodes where Jim doesn't know about his true identity, is much more of a parental figure to Jim (also after his redemption later on tbh) than his mother.

In summary: Barbara is treating her son like an adult, almost like a partner, instead of a child/teenager. And when that isn't possible anymore she doesn't know how to properly treat him. She also doesn't really care that her son is uncomfortable with her being around Strickler, or Strickler in general. And it takes Blinky telling her (when Jim is 16) that Jim might be affected by his father leaving when he was five years old.

Jim meanwhile is treating his mother more like a child/teenager instead of the adult and MOTHER that she is. Seeing her as his responsibility. Cooking for her. Cleaning for her. Telling her to rest and take breaks.

They obviously love each other other. And their relationship might not be toxic, but it's very much disfunctional. In a way that is mostly negative for Jim.