#the fact that we know next to basically nothing about him

[interstellar-productions]

Thinking so many thoughts honestly, about Aaron currently (spiritually not situationally I relate to him, it’s complicated). Aaron so specifically speaks to me because of how (at least with the crumbs we’re fed by canon) he internalizes and deals with his trauma. He WANTS to be normal. In fact he tries so hard to be normal (as society interprets normality) that he actively distances himself and represses any part of him that may lead people to viewing him as anything other then normal.

In my mind this was probably done intentionally, it creates a contrast between him and Andrew (and is probably why Neil is able to tell the twins apart pretty much from the get go). Andrew doesn’t speak about his trauma but he also doesn’t necessarily minimize it. Andrew makes himself big, body language wise he’s very loud. “Look at me, at what they did to me. Look at who I became”. Andrew is a warning sign, he lets his bleeding wounds show and mixes them with ragged bone and snarling teeth. Andrew is telling people without telling people what will happen if someone crosses him.

In contrast Aaron hides, his pain and his scares. Aaron turns everything inwards, shoving it all into closets and under beds. If he blends in then maybe no one will notice him enough to pick him out. Hiding in plane sight. Aaron works so hard to be normal and is canonically known as the least interesting and most normal fox, despite having a murder charge and being a recovered addict. He is the normal fox. People overlook him, glance right over him, his teammates, peers, everyone. Perfect grades, good at his sports, girl next door girlfriend. Aaron is so painfully NORMAL.

It speaks so deeply because it’s so obvious to me that its a coping mechanism and not actually because that’s how he really is. If he was just painfully normal we wouldn’t get some of his more violent or assholeish out burst and he probably wouldn’t have that grudge against Bee. His grudge against Bee is actually what sparked this whole thing for me. He hates Bee, he says that he’s never actually spoken a word to her and even when he starts sessions with Andrew he’s really just speaking to Andrew while Bee is in the room rather then directly speaking to Bee. My little psych major mind (mixed with my personal feelings but HUSH) is just screaming that this whole “I’m normal look right through me please I’m normal”. It’s how he COPES. This guy grew up at least a little bit inside a church (because Luther) and had to hide both bruises and addiction and whatever else was going on inside that house. Statistically speaking there’s two major ways you internalize trauma like that. And I love Aaron and Andrew because their those two ways basically. Aaron is trying so hard to be so Normal that he becomes basically invisible. Blending into the background.

He probably has everyone convinced that he’s got it all in the bag, all his shit? It’s in a sock, don’t even worry about it. He’s got the grades, the girlfriend and he plays a sport. Bro is literally sitting pretty to be so uninteresting that he gets nothing but a cursory glance, and it’s totally part of his scheme. No one’s going to think to ask questions he doesn’t want them too. Not about his past and not about what’s going on in his life. “Oh that’s Aaron yeah I’ve got advanced chem with him, yeah good guy. I think he plays exy.” Aaron doesn’t want people to ask questions, because he knows he’s towing the line. Does he have it all together? Or is he desperately trying to keep all his shit in the boxes he’s stuffed it in? Who knows. Aaron probably doesn’t even know.

Aaron gives me “fake it til you make it” vibes that it actually hurts my soul. This man wants to be normal so bad that he’s doing everything he can to not have to address what’s actually wrong, because acknowledging something’s wrong means acknowledging that he is in fact NOT normal. And he wants to be normal because being normal is how you survive. (How he got Tilda to not beat him for dragging the wrong sort of attention to her)

My psych major mind is absolutely consumed by AFTG because to me they represent all the different ways that trauma can manifest in people. Basically all of the foxes (even and Renee Wymack) are the violent kind. Their teeth and warning signs, don’t get too close, don’t step on my toes. But they all show it so differently. Renee for example is the healed sort of violent, she’s faced the majority of her demons and won, she knows she’ll be able to handle you if you step out of line (see her ruining the nest). Nicky is the loud kind. He’s not the break bone sort of violent but he is the make you uncomfortable kind. So much of Nicky’s early character (Foxhole court) is him giving off borderline predatory vibes. His jokes, his mannerisms, the whole Edens trip. It’s his version of violent. He makes you uncomfortable so he knows whose safe and who isn’t.

Then you have aaron and his whole character is a ticking time bomb. Aaron isn’t normal because he’s healed, he’s normal because its the only way he knows to survive. That’s why he doesn’t like Bee. Bee is a psychologist, her whole job is to know their problems and fix them and the fact he even has to go sit in a room with her is a threat to his overall performance of normality. Because normal people don’t NEED therapy.

Screams into the void, I’m so normal about him.

Also all of this is just my personal little ramblings about a purely fictional character that reminds me of myself as it relates to the topic of interest I’m currently studying. If you don’t agree with me that’s totally fine, if you have different preconceptions about him thats totally ok too. This is just my little brain rot corner of the internet and I’m just trying to have fun.

To the 3 people that wanted to see my deranged psych rambles i hope this reaches you, this is all for you!

[maisycoded]

I won’t lie, I’m not shocked he even one just because America always has the need to support the “ anti hero” or self proclaimed “ underdog” and so on. But what I will say is I never want to hear anyone talk about banding together or doing the right thing because ( with the exception of people who did take it seriously) most of everyone where posting their ballots writing joke shit on them, despite project 2025 being released to the public people did not see how much of a treat it is to not just black, LGBTQ+ and immigration rights, healthcare, but the rights of human beings at large

So with that said, I don’t want to hear anyone between now and the next four years talk about how books are getting censored or banned, free speech is dead, women’s rights are gone, people can’t get married or live their gay/queer dreams or story, how “ well I mean it won’t be that bad” because it will, and honestly the fact that no one understands this is going to be our generations reagan years is beyond me at this point

And with that said, I don’t want to hear shit also from anyone if people start becoming cynical, disinfectant or disenfranchised. The people are now un motivated, slackers, and the way pervious generations were seen from the 80’s-90’s. Because not only trump being president is bad enough now republicans have the house again and we all know what hell that will bring

I never want to hear about unity or coming together when we didn’t do that, the people who are a minority and still voted for him especially people of color, hispanics and so on even though our people have been though it for years we still looked at a convicted felon and facist and said “ well Kamala was against weed in the 90’s, even though she changed we hate her so fuck her” or “ well trump is friends with ( insert poc celebrities here)” is so fucking beyond me

So with that said, fuck this election, fuck the next four years, fuck everyone who failed at basic common sense and most of all fuck everyone who did the “ they are both bad imma not vote” shit because it’s not about electing a role model, all presidents are bad people, but that does not mean you elect a proven racist, rapist and vile human being over a flawed woman who’s not those things and wouldn’t put us thought the shit we will deal with now

If you voted for him, fuck you

If you where against Kamala for hypocritical standards, fuck you

If you are older and complain that todays youth is out of control and doesn’t care anymore and is angst ridden and is cynical and wants nothing to do with anything, fuck you

And if anyone shames people with moderate or severe mental illness and they can’t get help now moving forward, people have breakdowns and lose their shit, fuck you

We failed at doing our one job, and that is looking out for each other and making this bat shit country a safe place for us and tomorrow’s youth

[antianakin]

I've found that incorporating Mando culture into the clones' culture just ends up with the clones being impressively boring as a result. Like somehow every single clone always loves spicy food because apparently that's a genetic thing, despite the fact that the clones were presumably always given really bland things to eat on Kamino and would have next to no context for "spicy" foods before they leave and likely very little to no tolerance for it if they ever get a chance to try it.

As for the jaig eyes, I am basically splitting hairs here in order to make them NOT Mandalorian (somewhat out of spite, I'll admit). The symbol apparently was first given a specific meaning in a couple of articles written in 2005 and 2006 (although the symbol itself had been around since the 1980s but without any real meaning attached to it), so it stands to reason that it was put on Rex's helmet in the 2008 film with that meaning in mind. It is INTENDED to be an Easter egg for fans who are deeper into the lore and there's nothing that ever contradicts it in canon. However, there's nothing that actually CONFIRMS it as a Mandalorian symbol in higher canon, either. At no point does anyone point at the symbol on Rex's helmet and say "hey look, Mandalorian jaig eyes!" No one ever asks Rex what it means so that he can explain that it's a Mandalorian symbol for bravery or whatever. It's JUST a random symbol that happens to be on Rex's helmet, unless you happen to be one of those fans that's deeper into the lore. So since it's never explicitly stated to be a Mandalorian symbol in high canon, it is in fact just as canon to say it ISN'T a Mandalorian symbol as it is to say that it IS a Mandalorian symbol.

For me, the relationship that is most meaningful to the clones is the one they have with the JEDI. And yet that relationship often gets sidelined in favor of associating the clones most with Mandalorians. If there IS a relationship emphasized between the Jedi and the clones, it's either supremely negative (like the idea that the Jedi are basically just slave owners or the idea that the clones have to somehow save the Jedi from their own repressive culture) or it's explicitly romantic (and likely sexual). But the Jedi are the ones who canonically help the CLONES discover who they are, who encouraged the clones to embrace their individuality, this is both shown to us and said out loud by other characters. So the clones SHOULD be getting more cultural associations with the Jedi, theoretically, because there's precious few other people they could emulate or learn from, but it's so difficult to find anyone that really wants to explore that complex dynamic when instead they could just make the clones into Mandos 2.0.

And that's why my focus on Rex gifting the symbol to Kanan when he's feeling low and doesn't really know who he is or who he CAN be after he loses his sight is more about the relationship between clone and Jedi than Mando and Jedi. If it WERE explicitly a Mando symbol being treated as a Mando symbol, it feels like it would be more significant to have Rex sharing it with SABINE, the canon Mandalorian, who also hits a low point in season 3 and has to face her fears in order to reconnect to her family and her home.

The reason Rex sharing his symbol with Kanan hits for me isn't because it's a Mando symbol, but because it's REX'S symbol, the thing that made him unique as a clone among millions, that he is sharing with the Jedi he CHOSE (because as much as he cared about Anakin and Ahsoka, he was ASSIGNED to them as far as we know and he didn't CHOOSE them). This is the man he chose to follow, and by sharing that symbol, he's telling Kanan that his lack of sight doesn't change anything for him. Kanan's still his Jedi, no matter what, because it wasn't his eyes or his fighting skills that mattered to Rex, it was Kanan's HEART. And given Kanan and Rex's rocky relationship up until that point, it's a signal of Kanan's acceptance of that dynamic between them, as Jedi and clone. Rex chose Kanan, and now Kanan is finally choosing Rex back.

Now, all of the sudden, you can take this gesture from just being "oh Rex shared a piece of Mando culture with Kanan to say that he's brave, how sweet" to something infinitely more nuanced that digs deep into who Rex is as a person, Rex's relationship to the Jedi in general, and Rex's relationship to Kanan specifically. You said you prefer to look at the clones' culture from the perspective of what it's like to BE A CLONE and that it's more interesting that way. You can do that here, too! Even if something is TECHNICALLY Mandalorian (ish) in canon, you can literally just pretend it's not to make it more interesting.

I'd love to hear some of your headcanons about clone culture that's separate from the usual Mando stuff! More people should have non-Mandoclone headcanons!

I've decided that Rex is the one who paints Kanan's eye mask with his bird of prey design.

Kanan's feeling pretty low still just after Malachor, he's still distancing himself from everybody, and Rex decides to go try to talk to him at one point and the first thing he comes up with to say is to point out that his new mask is pretty plain. It's awkward, he regrets it immediately, but then Kanan says that it gets the job done and Rex is abruptly reminded of himself so so long ago back at the beginning of the war.

He sits Kanan down and tells him a story about how, at the beginning of the war, only a few of the clones had paint on their armor, to designate things like rank and battalion in order to make it easier for officers to find them in the middle of a busy battlefield. The paint was practical and it was limited to a very select few. But the Jedi almost immediately started trying to encourage the clones to utilize the paint less sparingly, suggesting that maybe everybody could wear at least a LITTLE paint and use more individualized designs so that it was still easy to tell the commanders and captains apart from the others when needed.

Some of the clones had taken to it with gusto, but others had been more hesitant, and Rex remembers having been one of them. He remembers telling Obi-Wan that there was no real REASON to paint everyone's armor and especially not to come up with personal designs. The armor was practical and it served its purpose with or without the paint and special designs. But the Jedi had insisted on at least TRYING to come up with his own design and if he didn't like it, he could always take it off, so Rex had given in and chosen something to paint on the armor. And, somehow, it felt a little lighter the next time he put it on. It didn't erase the horrors of war or the pain of loss or anything like that, but it helped.

He tells Kanan that the mask right now is just a reminder of the pain of the injury and whatever other feelings he's still got all caught up in the Malachor mission (guilt over what happened with Ezra, grief over Ahsoka's loss). But if he puts his own design on it, it might turn the mask into something other than a constant reminder of something bad. Instead, it's a reminder of who he is, the combination of the person he once was and who he's become. He is more than just his injury or this mission and he can use the mask to declare that if he wants to.

Kanan says he never realized Rex and the other clones had cared so deeply about their armor and Rex says that the armor itself was meaningless. It's better than what's being handed out to stormtroopers, but not but a LOT. It was the design on it that had meant something and, more than that, it was what the design REPRESENTED: having a choice about how you were perceived by others.

Kanan asks why Rex had chosen his particular designs, the bird of prey eyes on his helmet in particular. Rex explains that he chose it because he liked birds and thought it looked cool, but he's kept the helmet for as long as he has because it's come to mean something ELSE now. It's not just a cool-looking design, it's a reminder of a better time in his life. It's a reminder of when he'd been a part of something greater than himself, with the other clones and the Jedi. It's a reminder of a time when he'd had hope that he and his people could one day come out the other side of this war towards a brighter future.

Kanan looks at the mask he'd grabbed from storage somewhere or something just to keep light from hurting his eyes as they recovered and to cover up the injury from other people's stares (even if he couldn't see them staring), then hands it to Rex and asks if Rex minds sharing that symbol because he'd like a reminder of that, too. Rex remembers the 332nd and their helmets that they'd painted to look like their chosen Jedi, almost blindly giving away their individuality in favor of that loyalty that had been stripped from them anyway. And then he looks at Kanan, choosing to make himself look LIKE REX, someone who had shared his face with millions once, because he wants to honor both the connections he'd lost as well as this new connection the two of them have built together now. And Rex says he'd be happy to share.

[wikitpowers]

ash has a pet chinchilla. i repeat: ash morgenstern has a pet chinchilla. just putting that out there.

like this guy has one of these cuties who he just hangs out with :(

[exopelagic]

this election feels so hollow even though it’s likely ostensibly gonna be a good outcome. labour really just sucks fucking ass rn huh

[girlscience]

the adrenaline rush after talking to someone who gives you severe anxiety but the conversation went super well and was super helpful: unparalleled

[audisive]

♪ BROOKLYN BABY. (💌) – previous part

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: the 141 believes the scot now.

tags: fluff, romance, soft!simon, you're basically their mom atp lol, bickering, there's a bet between gaz n soap, gaz secretly wants you shh, ooc characters, not proofread, price being the gentleman he is, he's seriously just watching everything unfold

       It's not always that Ghost is willing to let the 141 stay at his house for their traditions – which is just drinking beer and watching sports, really. In fact, he's always said something about his place being empty, so they always settled on someone else's. They stop asking after a year, and in turn, he stops having reasons.

It's not until Soap pops the question again when everyone else's houses are unavailable for a variety of reasons, his being that he left his faucet on and now his shitty apartment is flooded. You can only imagine the suspicion and shock when Ghost agrees (or, rather, simply grunts).

The drive is long, nothing short of 5 hours, and Soap spends the better half of it bickering with either Gaz or Ghost. He falls asleep by the next half, and when he awakes, he gawks at the lovely looking house before their car. There's two stories to it, a balcony, a front porch, and there's no doubt that there's a backyard.

Contrary to popular belief, no, it is not all black or plain at all. It's all equally surprising to them. The Brit isn't the type to care about the appearance and state of a house, usually. They do envision him in a mostly empty apartment with only a bed and a bathroom, though.

There's a delicate touch to where a rough man lives; the smell is almost heavenly when they enter the house. It's homely, the scent of newly washed sheets and lingering smell of food; there's a cat perched on the living room table that Ghost scratches the head of lovingly in a way that's so casual and natural. It's like they're at the gates of–

"Simon!" Heaven's bells ring in their ears, luring them into the doorway of the living room, and the sound of feet padding against the cold floor. There comes a soft-looking thing running into Ghost's arms, completely engulfing you.

You only notice the three familiar faces of your boyfriend's team members – though you know he considers them family if anything – when you pull away. An angel clad in only a cami top, shorts, and Simon's hand around your waist, you turn to look at the group with a surprised look on your pretty – Soap thinks that God, you're so pretty – face. "Oh, hi," you smile sweetly, obviously awkward at the silence and the staring.

"It's been a while," Ever the gentleman, the gruff voice is the first to speak up with your name uttered, the only who's actually met you – John Price. Soap is too enamored with the way you hold yourself and the fact that, holy fuck, even your name's pretty. Gaz raises a brow at the captain's greeting.

You smile once more – a genuine one now. "Nice to see you again, John."

"'S rude to stare, Johnny." Simon speaks out, a smirk under the mask. "Please excuse him, miss," Gaz adds, this beautiful man, and offers a charming smile.

"You must be Gaz," you hold your hand out, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine," Kyle forgets that a hand could be this soft and gentle, "and please, call me Kyle." He barely stops himself from turning your hand in his to kiss the back of it like one should to a lady so fair; his lieutenant has good taste in women, he'll give him that. And when you're out of the area, Soap is sure to rub it in Gaz's face. I told ye so! LT wis hidin' somethin' from us. A pretty something, that is. You don't miss the way he slips a twenty-dollar bill into the Scottish man's hand.

"Glad tae meet ye," Soap finally says, winking. "Understand why he wis hidin' a bonnie lass like ye from us." There's a mischievous glint in his eye, almost naturally so.

"A'm hurt, LT, but whit can I do? After all, we're just a couple o' brutes, arenae we?"

Simon watches in amusement, "you'll live." Soap is quick to move to your side as you lead the small group of hulking men through your shared home after that.

Simon is visibly more relaxed with you around. He's comfortable, that much is a given, with the way he's taking up most of the thankfully large couch with his manspreading. So is the 141. They're pampered like spoiled children (or pets, really) through the whole day.

Instead of just beer and faucet water, they're offered a variety of drinks in the kitchen that's enough to be considered a private bar. Instead of an empty belly unhealthily stuffed with beer and a mix of mediocre takeout, they're met with warm homecooked meals. They lose track of time quickly; the night falls by the time they've tired themselves out, and they've had not one, but two meals thanks to you.

(They're sure to commend your cooking skills and think of how lucky this tall brute of a man is blessed with a woman so soft and pliant and wonderful and– while Price is the one to be the most grateful, Soap compliments you the most. "A can practically taste the love." You laugh in turn.)

Gaz is the first to speak after a meal so lovely, they could simply just sleep on the floor comfortably and wake to the same smell of home. "It's a bit late, love, we should probably go."

"Thank you for having us," Price smiles down at you kindly.

"Ye've been lovely, bonnie." He wants to stay some more.

"Wait," you stop them, looking up at Simon for further approval. He's already looking at you with a reassuring brush of his thumb on the side of your hip and a nod. You turn your eyes back at them. "It's already late, you three should stay the night. We have enough room for everyone."

There comes, "we don't wanna intrude," then, "we can take care of ourselves, it's alright."

"Please, I insist." Your smile brightens, "I'll even cook breakfast before you leave."

The mohawk moves with a sigh, "now tha's just no' fair, lass. How are we gonna say no tae that?" You giggle. Only then do they find themselves tucked away in the guest room, and boy, you were right when you said it could fit them all if not more.

On the way to the bathroom in the late hours of the night, Soap catches a glimpse of light through the crack of your bedroom door to see his oh-so strong lieutenant, vulnerable in your arms. There's something natural about the way you cradle the large man and kiss his hair like it's part of your DNA, like you're programmed to do that 'cause Soap thinks you're simply unreal.

He's proud of his lieutenant, this lucky bastard. He turns another blind eye once more, but he's paid in full with another fulfilling meal by the morning.

[jyoongim]

THE WAY U WRITE THE OLD RED DEMON MAN IS JUST SO NEKEKDKEOWB

Might I just add onto the seemingly continuous alastor requests. I'd love to see Alastor x Reader where reader is in heat and Al finds it pathetic but takes pity on them and helps anyway bc like poor thing can't even get their own instincts in control they're obviously hopeless

warnings: 18+!!!NSFW

You thought when you died you would be rid of hormones.

Periods were a pain while living, but this is was worst.

When you were alive, your periods plagued you with mood swings, random cravings, and pain.

Now that you were dead, you didn’t experience the dreadful red flood and raging mood swings; no. Now all you felt was unbelievably horny and needy.

And you hated it.

You usually carried yourself with confidence and elegance.

You usually liked to help around the hotel and were generally friendly with everyone.

You grimaced as you woke up to feel just how drenched your panties were. I really need to stock up on new underwear you thought as you tossed the ruined panties into the hamper.

You usually spent your heats alone and could hide in a hole until you felt normal again. You usually could control yourself well enough til you had enough free time to ease the tension between your legs.

Or until you found a poor sinner.

Weeeeellll that was hard when you lived in a hotel with a ton of shit to do. You really didn’t want to hear Angel’s jabs as you dragged some unfortunate soul to endear your sex rage.

You sighed, hopefully you could get through the next few days without embarrassing yourself completely.

So far so good you thought as you went about your day doing whatever activity Charlie had you do with the group.

Every touch and scent didn’t send your cunt into a tingling frenzy; yes you had to change your panties a few times but nothing crazy.

That was until you were around Alastor.

Your body practically buzzed whenever the tall red demon was in your vicinity.

You first chalked it up to that it was because you did found him attractive and simply thought it would go away.

But your cunt begged a differ.

You squirmed a bit on the couch as Alastor took a seat beside you, clenching your thighs to ease the uncomfortable throbbing.

It didn’t help that he smelled amazing.

Alastor smelled like evergreens how y’all ever smelled Christmas pine??? That shit is delicious!!!!

And you didn’t realized you had took a deep inhale of him until he turned to you

”Is everything alright my dear?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

fuck how were you going to tell him you wanted to bury your nose into his neck and just SNIFF? 

“O-oh I’m f-fine…i-its just you smelled nice?” You wanted to facepalm.

He blinked at you before letting out a laugh “OOooh why thank you my dear” that shit eating grin widened, voice dropping a slight octave“I must smell very enticing if you’re sniffing at me” his eyes narrowed slightly.

A shiver ran through your body and you swear you were leaking through onto the couch. You wanted to die of embarrassment.

“I-I just never noticed before that’s all” You said shrugging, trying to ignore the fact that his very voice was affecting you.

Charlie had ended whatever the hell you were doing and you quickly made your way to your room, causing some confusion.

You were usually a social butterfly with the gang. You never not chat away with Angel as he told the wild shit he did on set.

“Has got to be that time of the month” Angel commented as you almost sprinted out the room. Charlie and Vaggie gave confused looks ”what?” He sighed “You know…” nope not a clue.

”She was a human remember? Every so often her pussy basically shreds itself to bits”

Charlie gasped “So she’s hurt? Shouldn’t we do something?” Angel laughed,shaking his head “Nah we can’t help. But she'll be fine. Just give her a few days and she'll be normal again”

Alastor was in the background listening, the smile on his face sharpened, you weren’t hurt or bleeding, but there was definitely something that could be done.

You snarled as your vibrator died and tossed it. You groaned as your clit continued to throb. You had thought four orgasms would have did the trick but nope you still had the irritating itch.

You didn’t own a dildo because it was pointless.

it wasn’t the real thing.

You wanted to cry. This was your first heat while you’ve been at the hotel and you didn’t just want to drag a stranger here.

You had more control than that.

At least that’s what you thought.

You had locked yourself in your room as you tore your room to bits. The walls were shredded, pillows and sheets drenched in slick and your poor toy was in pieces.

Panting, you curled in a corner and tugged at your hair, squeezing your eyes tight as tears began to pool in your eyes.

You hated this.

 You hated how it felt like you didn’t even feel like yourself. 

Hated that you couldn’t even control your own damn bodily function.

Hated how your body desperately wanted to be filled.

You would give anything to make this horrid feat of yours go away.

“I would have never thought to see you in such a state my dear”

You froze at the voice and jerked your head to the source.

Alastor.

He was standing at the entrance of your bedroom, a smirk on his face as he took in the state of your room.

”I must say, it. Is rather entertaining to see your lack of control” he said as he approached your curled form.

He crouched down, feigning a concerned look before a clawed hand seized your hair and wrenched your face til your noses were bumping against each other.

”did you think I couldn’t smell you?” He growled “You smell just like a bitch in heat”

You whimpered as his lips ghosted over yours “I-I’m sorry”

His scent was surrounding you. It was a drug. Assaulting your every nerve with each breath you took.

He smelled so good 

please

”Please” you whispered as your cunt buzzed, tingling from his clos proximity and in hopes he would have mercy on you.

Alastor sucked his teeth at you. What a pitiful thing you were…

With a deep breathe, he stood and walked over to your ruined bed and sat. You watched as he sat his mic down and removed his coat. Yanking at his tie, he unbuttoned his shirt and looked over at you with narrowed eyes “Well? Do you want to continue to ruin your furnishings or do you wish to satisfy that brazen desire of yours?”

He widened his legs and your eyes honed in on how he unbuckled his pants.

Your throat tightened and you found yourself crawling over to him, no regard that you were naked.

Kneeling between his legs, your hands soothed up his thighs as your rubbed your head against his crotch.

Alastor lifted your chin for your eyes to meet his. Your eyes were blown out and you winced as his grip tightened.

”I pity you my dear, reduced to wanton whore, but don’t fret…Ill help you through your heat” a thumb ran over your pouty lip.

Your cunt clenched around nothing at his words.

You damn near drooled as he adjusted himself to pull his cock free from its restraints.

It was big, in both length and girth. It slapped against your face, causing you to hum at the weight of it.

You nuzzled it, nose gliding along his length before softly pressing kissed along it. When you came to his mushroom tip, you didn’t hesitate to suck at it. Alastor sighed as you gave the head of his cock kitten licks.

Head clouded with desire, you slowly bobbed your head along his length, taking him whole as you gagged once you reached the hilt.

You eased him out your throat and with a sickening pop, you admired as his spit-covered cock shined. You opted to jerk him off slowly as you buried your nose in his ball, inhaling his scent.

Alastor’s hand found your hair and guided you away from his cock, bringing you to climb up his body, until your smoldering heat was rubbing against his cock as he pressed kisses to your shoulder and neck. A gasp tore from your throat as he nipped at your jaw.

”On fours my dear”

Clumsily, you scrambled to follow his instruction. You must not have been to his liking because he pressed your head til your cheek was flat to the bed, back in a deep low arch, thighs pressed to your stomach and spreaded wide with your ass and cunt exposed to the air. 

You would have blushed in embarrassment if you weren’t so turned on.

A hand glided down your back, causing you to shiver and then jolt as a harsh slap was planted on your ass, before it soothed over the burning cheek.

Alastor kneaded your ass before sliding his fingers down to your cunt.

Your slit was swollen and your clit, puffy with need. 

You were dripping.

He dipped a finger inside you, testing how wet you were.

Soppy. 

He added a second, your cunt greedily welcomed his fingers with ease, giving into resistance.

He chuckled “What a greedy cunt, sucking in my fingers like a cock”

You whined when he took his fingers out, already missing the feel of something inside you.

Alastor took his cock and rubbed it against your cunt, coating himself in your slick.

”I am going to fuck you to your little sinful heart desires and you are going to be grateful of everything I give you. You are going to take every bit of my cum until it spills from this cunt and then again and again until I have bred you so thoroughly. Do you understand slut?”

You were breathing heavily, trembling in excitement.

With a single, sharp thrust he filled your cunt, earning a soft cry from you.

”Do you understand?”he hissed through clenched teeth.

”Y-Yes A-Alastor”. you whimpered, eyes clenched shut in pleasure.

”Good girl”

He drew back and thrusted into you again

And again

And again

He had set a slow, but rough pace. Thrusting his cock deep into the soft warmth of your cunt with each drag.

Soft moans filled the air as he buried his cock inside you.

It felt so good. 

He reached depths your finger couldn’t quite reach.

And it was amazing.

”A-Ala-stor Aah! Aaah! Hah!” You pushed your hips against his, mewling loudly as he grinned his cock into you.

”Youre pathetic ” He laughed, eyes watching his cock disappeared inside you, giving you a hard thrust at his words.

”Nothing but pathetic slut who can’t control their own body”

His grip on your hips pulled you flushed against him, making you take him til his balls was nestled against your slit.

”You probably would have spreaded your legs for any poor sinner, just wanting to be fucked dumb” Your body rippled as his thrusts got harder.

Your cunt only got wetter.

He noticed as he seemed to sink even deeper into you, as if your cunt loosened to welcome him

”oh? I bet you would have liked that wouldn’t you? So out of sorts with need that you would have just anyone bred this cunt”

He growled at the squelching noises from your cunt, you shook your head in denial.

No. No you wouldn’t haven’t done something like that.

”N-no I-I wouldn’t-” You cried out as his finger ghosted over your swollen clit.

”You would have been happy to bend over and offer your cunt to anyone, as long as you had a cock fill you” Alastor continued before a cruel, deep laugh erupted from him

”But instead you sought me out. I had no intention in satisfying you, but what a gentleman would i had been if I ignored a lady in need?” You felt him lean over, hips never missing a beat as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder.

”Oooh how fortunate you are my dear”

You were suddenly flipped onto your back. Hair sprawled around you like a halo, your chest heaving as he pushed your knees to your chin. 

Your lidded eyes watching as he slide his cock between your pussy lips, bumping your clit. He grabbed your wrists, using them as leverage as he thrusted back into you, the new angle making your throw your head back with a broken cry

”FuuuuuUccckk Ah Ah AH!” His hips dug into the underside of your ass as he pounded your cunt.

Alastor hadn’t lost composure the entire time he fucked you.

He watched as you fell apart, your hips wiggling to accommodate to his harsh administrations.

Your cunt took him so good. A white, creamy ring formed at his base as he scraped against that sponges nerve inside you.

You welcomed him gratefully. Letting him wrench pleasurable sounds from your pretty lips.

Pushing your raised legs apart, he lowered his weight on you as he slammed his lips on yours, swallowing your moans. Your tongues danced as he rocked into your body.

The sounds of him ruining your cunt pushed him to fulfill your primal desire.

You felt that familiar blaze of heat take over your body as Alastor fucked short rapid thrusts into you.

Every brush of his abdomen against your clit had your cunt going haywire.

You were going to cum.

Alastor was going to make you cum.

You moaned at the thought

You were gonna cum on his cock

And he was gonna breed you

Breed your soppy cunt

and you were going to let him

”please….” You whined into his mouth

Fuck the very thought had your body buzzing.

”please what?” he purred

Your head was reeling, foggy with the need to be filled.

A hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing

“What are you begging me for slut? Hmm?” His strokes were hitting harder and deeper.

”You want me to breed your cunt? You want to me to fill you up so good that all you’ll ever think is how my cum belongs inside you? What do the little slut want?”

Yes you wanted all of it.

You wanted him to fuck you so good, you wouldn’t even think of wanting another cock from his.

You wanted him to fill your cunt to the brim and then fuck it back inside.

You wanted him to breed you like the little slut you were.

To breed you til he had his fill.

Your instincts had practically took over, fuck sanity.

”Mhmm! I want it. I want you to Ah! I want you to fill me with your cum! Please please breed me Alastor” You whined, feeling your belly clench as your orgasm hung over you, promising sweet relief.

The hand around your throat, tightened causing you to gasp as he spoke into your ear, voice deep and purring

”Youre gonna make yourself cum on my cock slut”

your hand flew to your clit to flick fast circles on the bud.

Alastor’s thrusts quickened, growls pouring from his lips

”Who’s a filthy little slut?”

”M-Me”

”Whos a pathetic slut that’s gonna take my cum?”

”Me!”

”Fucking slut gonna let be breed her dumb”

A sob tore from you as your orgasm washed over you, he fucked you as you milked him, hips angled to thrusts so deep you’re sure your cunt had molded into the shape of his cock

”hah hah aaah fuuucckk fuck fuck Al-Alastor!”

You saw white as your mouth opened in a silent scream only for him to swallow the whine in your throat.

”That’s it you pathetic slut take it. Take my cum. That’s a good girl. Let me breed this sweet cunt cher” your hips raised as he sunk into you and with a deep groan, he cummed into your spasming cunt, making sure to thrust deep enough he hit your cervix as he painted your walls white.

Whether conscious or by instinct, you gave him a ditzy smile, eyes glazed over as you slowly rubbed your clit, whimpering. Holding eye contact with him, a soft pout graced your lips

“Again”

You truly were a pathetic, needy little thing.

But don’t worry pretty Doe, Alastor’s going to make sure you

satisfied and stuffed to your heart’s content

 It was going to be very interesting for the next 36 hours…

@markster666 @alastorsfawn @senseichaos @alastoralltruist @dasimp777 @imgonnadielaughing-blog @thewinchestah @strawberrypimp666 @tpks @stygianoir @polytheatrix @prosciuttosblog @angelltheninth @peachedtv @yourdoorisunlocked @kiralaufeyson84

[httpsserene]

I have been having SUCH a thought since the Thigh Riding, and I NEED to tell you.

We know reader has been loving Max and Charles’ thighs, but have you seen those silicone thigh toys? They’re basically ridged pads you strap to your thigh and…well you can guess what they do with them.

I just- I feel like it would elevate it, their sweet girl opening up to the world of toys whilst in the comfort of something she loved.

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞 | 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬 | 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞: 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞

summary: all my (terrified and oversensitive) homies hate vibrators!! max and charles introduce you to something better.  content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. vibrators. thigh riding. sex toys. non-penetrative sex. edging. praise kink. corruption kink. dom/sub undertones. coming untouched. sub!charles. sub!reader. dom!max. pairing: max verstappen x charles leclerc x fem!black!reader word count: 2.4k words.

author’s notes: this is from december 2023, jesus christ. about fucking time right, @vetteltea? this has been haunting me in my sleep ever since this hit my inbox, now it’s y’all’s problem too < 333 psss, next post will either be toasty part two (toto) or a smau xxx

(if you’re unsure about what these specific thigh toys are, don’t worry, i would link an example but idk if that would get me put in tblr jail and i’m on thin ice with my mentions, tags, and even dms not working :| look up “grinding pad sex toy” to get an idea of what i’m referencing in this fic. )

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You’ve deeply repressed the memory of your orgasm-deprived outburst that kick started your sexual exploration with Max and Charles. Vaguely, you can remember saying that you possibly considered the thought of buying a vibrator to get yourself off since riding your pillow wasn’t enough anymore.

[…you’ve become depraved enough to consider buying a vibrator, but all packages delivered to this apartment have to be approved by max or charles to be sent up, and you’re definitely not bold enough to go out and buy one (and risk being seen by one of their fans or have to physically talk to someone to buy one)...]

[…you seem to have missed the fact that you sent their minds reeling and continue venting, “i don’t know what to do, maxy!  i’ve been doing the same thing, and it’s NEVER failed me before. it’s cruel that it stopped working when you guys left me for more than a month! no matter how i did it–if i did the exact same things i’ve always been doing, or tried something new, nothing worked! i was literally just considering buying a fucking vibrator! a vibrator, charles, i’d rather run naked in the street than buy that online and have to put in this delivery address–”

charles gently presses finger against your mouth, shushing you. he pulls you into a deep hug, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your back , the motion pacifying you. he hums, and it vibrates through his chest to yours, “mmm, we’re home now, mon ange. there’s no need to run in the streets naked–” “definitely not,” max jumps in, reacting possessively at the implication of other people seeing you undressed. charles rolls his eyes and continues (like he’s not just as jealous as max), “or buy a vibrator. i know it must be so frustrating…”]

Charles was right. You didn’t have to go streaking or buy a sex toy to get off, your boyfriends took care of you. That night, you were satisfied by riding Max’s thigh. Then a few days later, you learned how to pleasure your men with handjobs. A couple of days after that you were fingerfucked into an altered mental state, then followed up with watching Charles cum untouched as Max ate him out. You had Max’s mouth on you next and weeks later in a Spanish villa, you allowed them to take your virginity.

The five days you three spent in that villa were filled with pleasure, as Max and Charles fulfilled every request of yours without question. In bed, on the sofa, from the kitchen floor to the dining table, from the hot tub to the bathroom shower, horizontally, vertically, parabolically, from dusk to dawn—the two years of relationship you had without sexual intimacy had been put to rest. The understanding, the vulnerability, and the trust rooted within everyone had led to that moment. It was worth it.

So, one would understand your confusion when Max drops the idea of sex toys in conversation with you and Charles on a random morning. With an audible noise of confusion, you tilt your head up at him adorably, and genuinely question, “Why would I use a toy when I have you two?” Your tummy tightened when that sentence caused Charles to look at you with dripping molten eyes and Max’s mumbled grumble about corrupting your innocence goes unheard. Minutes later, you were bent over the kitchen island, the skirt of your sundress shoved up around your waist, and your white panties dangling off of one ankle as they took turns eating you out. Needless to say, you forgot about the subject of conversation the moment they knocked your legs open.

Eventually, they do manage to have a chat about toys without it devolving into sex. 

“Schat,” Max grabbed your attention, the clink of his silverware resting on his plate further interrupted your focus on spinning pasta onto your fork.

“Yes, Maxy?” you responded, meeting his eyes with a smile.

“After this discussion, we will never bring this up again if you are adamantly against the idea,” you brought your fork to your lips, munching away with a look of puzzlement, the Dutchman continued, “But, Charlie and I were talking…and we think, that—with your approval, of course—that there’s a chance you may enjoy experiencing and learning about sex toys, and how good they can make you feel. As long as either one of us is using them on you—and, with your hatred of them—they’re also not vibrators.”

You choked on your pasta, Charles making a noise of surprise as he rushed forward to pat you on the back.

Airways now cleared, you looked at Max with watery eyes, “There was not enough foreshadowing to let me know where the conversation was going. And, fuck vibrators. They are way too strong.”

The Monegasque’s eyes brightened with humor, “Hm. I think vibrators are nice, especially when they’re in Max’s hand.”

“You’re a menace and a freak,” the older man responded, “And she’s chronically sensitive. Don’t tease.”

Charles tugged at one of your curls, chuckling as he saw the brown skin of your cheeks redden.

“I mean,” you paused to play fight with your boyfriend, batting his hand from your hair cutely, “You guys haven’t been wrong with anything you’ve introduced me to. If you think that I might enjoy something…I guess I can try it. And, you’ll stop if I tell you to, right?”

“Always, mon ange.” “Of course, liefje.”

“Okay, then. I just don’t think there’s a toy that I’ll like?”

A smirk spread across Max’s lips when he glanced over at Charles, like they knew something you didn’t. His blue eyes were alight with humor as they looked back at you, “Let us worry about that.”

You did such a good job of letting your boyfriends “worry about sex toys” that you ended up forgetting the conversation happened. Until tonight, when you walked into your bedroom to see Charles on the bed completely naked, save for—what appears to be, a pink silicone pad strapped around his tanned, muscular thigh.

You freeze in the doorway, mouth parted, struggling to process the sight in front of you. The brunette is ruined. His hair is damp with sweat, strands of curls stuck to his forehead, and green eyes moist with dried tear tracks painting the ruddiness of his cheeks. His lips are bitten red, swollen, and moist with his spit—Max’s too. The bruises start on his collarbone, deep red marks brush along his clavicle and pecs, and there are visible imprints of teeth around his right nipple. Traces of Max’s unforgiving grip are painted on his waist, thumbprints obvious to your eyes. His cock looks painful; burning red, twitching randomly, the vein on his underside raised, and precome has been leaking out of his tip for a while if the puddle by the base is any telling. 

Employing his skill for perfect timing, the en-suite door opens, and Max steps into the room with a bottle of lube in his hand. 

“Charlie?” Max coos, walking over to the delirious man, pouting sympathetically when the brunette’s head falls forward to rest on his hip, ruffling his hair and scratching along his scalp. “Aren’t you going to thank our pretty girl for putting an end to your torture?”

“–rci, merci,” the exhausted man mumbles messily. Max hums in content, dropping the lube on the bed and gesturing for you to come closer. Tripping over your feet in haste to follow his order, you ask softly, “How long have you had him like this?”

“Around forty-five minutes,” Max shrugs, dismissively, “He was getting too excited as we waited for you to join us.”

Swallowing shakily, you inquire, “Excited about what?

“Your new sex toy.” 

You gasp and Max’s eyes flutter across your face as he gages your reaction. Max sees you shift on your feet and casts look downward; your thighs are pressed together for friction—you’re aroused.

“Do you want to try it?”

“Yes, Max.”

The Dutchman smiles at you, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind your ear, and leans forward to press a multitude of chaste kisses on your lips, laughing lowly when you whine with displeasure as he ignores your attempts to deepen them. “You’re being so brave for me. Take your clothes off, pretty girl.”

Bare in the blink of an eye, you look at your older boyfriend for his next direction.

“Our Charlie,” Max starts, helping the fucked-out man sit up straight, “Has been so kind to volunteer his thigh to you. Strapped around it,” he pauses to slap his hand down beneath the toy, smirking at Charles’ delayed yelp, and squeezing the meat of his muscle warmly, “Is a ridged silicone pad designed to simulate the vulva and clit as you grind. The waves and spikes of silicone are malleable and soft,” Max drags his finger across them demonstratively, “and are smooth and bouncy as you slide across it, allowing for a continuous rubbing sensation—I did my research.”

Giggling nervously as your eyes flicker between Charles’ cock and the daunting pink slab of plastic, “I can tell. Um—I just ride it like it’s his thigh?”

Max nods and offers you his hand for stability as you move to straddle the pad. Charles blinks, raising trembling hands to rest on your hips, staring at you with hazy eyes. You sigh, tangling your hand in the nape of his hair and using it to pull him forward into a kiss. His lips are clumsy but eager as they move against yours, whimpers muffled into your mouth and beard scratching along your chin. He tries to tug you downwards to have you firmly sit on the pad but is halted by Max.

“Greedy, both of you,” Max snorts, picking up the forgotten bottle of lube and uncapping it to lightly drizzle some on the toy's surface, “I know you get wetter than the ocean but, better safe than sorry.”

He pats you on the ass in encouragement, and you shake your head with shame as you lower yourself down on the silicone, draping your arms around Charles’ shoulders and pausing to acquaint yourself with the new feeling. The chill of the lube startles you but aside from that, the toy is…comfortable. The raised hump sits perfectly against the curvature of your cunt and already, you’re anticipating the focused stimulation it will provide. 

Max sits behind Charles and the bed sinks under his weight, barely jostling the Monegasque’s thigh. However, it’s enough of a movement that it causes one of the soft spikes to clip your clit, pushing a quiet noise of surprise from your lips.

“Oh,” you murmur airily.

Trying to hide the quirk of his lips, Max leans forward to whisper directly into Charles’ ear, “This seems awfully familiar to the first time she rode my thigh, no?”

You whimper audibly, knowing that he purposefully spoke loud enough for you to hear his words. Refusing to fixate on Charles’ reply, you circle your hips, breath catching as the various textures set your nerves ablaze. You understand that Max added the lube to prevent any unwanted roughness—it’s rendered unnecessary as your arousal starts to leak. Digging your nails into the younger man’s back, you rock your hips back and forth slowly, moaning freely as the waves are a consistent friction against your labia. 

“It’s–fuck—i-it’s good.”

“Stuttering already,” Max tuts, and you feel the heat in your cheeks radiate down to your bouncing chest. Your rhythm roughens; dragging yourself along the toys in desperation, toes curling at every random press of the spikes against your outer lips and clit. Charles gasps in relief, your quickened pace causing his cock to bounce and rub against his abdomen in his puddle of precome. He gets lucky on every few grinds when you undulate forwards and his cock bounces to glide against your navel. His hands grip firmly around your hips and shove them into a jerkier motion, keeping you close to him so his reddened length can be soothed against your skin constantly. 

The change in angle and position has caused the spikes to form a barrage around your clit and the waves drag over your entrance, teasing you with the feeling of being opened up. Dropping your head to hide your face in Charles’ neck, you muffle your pitchy moans and shrieks by tasting the sweat beading on his skin.

“I’m jealous, schatje,” Max speaks, “I almost want to pull her off of your thigh and have her sit on my face.”

Fresh tears spill from Charles’ eyes as he begs, “N-no-no—mmmph—please, ‘m close.”

Your hips start to rabbit against the toy, and the texture between your legs is overwhelming but too pleasurable to consider slowing. 

Max yanks Charles’ head backward with a fist in his hair, “Do you want to cum, Charlie?”

The man in question babbles incoherently, chest trembling from lack of oxygen as he continues to sob; he tries to nod, but can’t, thanks to Max’s firm grip. The burning of his scalp doesn’t subdue him, it encourages him to keep tugging so the pain floods endorphins through his body. 

“You know what to say,” Max states calmly, the words sending shivers down your spine. Your own body starts to tingle as you taste your orgasm on the tip of your tongue; you’re too delighted at the new sensations to let any embarrassment build from reaching the edge quickly.

Charles struggles to get his tongue, lips, and vocal cords to cooperate. You see a frantic look light in his eyes, sure he’s trying to puzzle out what language he’s sane enough to communicate in. He manages to verbalize sounds that could be likened to Max’s name if you brush past his whimpers and cries.

“Plea–,” Charles tries to push the word out pitifully, “—ah, sss'il te pla—” his cock bumps against your navel, and his words cut off, eyes rolling back before he can finish begging.

A humorous laugh leaves Max; this is the easiest way Max has ever made the younger man lose his speech. He softens, and gives into the pillow prince, “You did so good, Charlie. You tried your hardest for me, yeah? You begged so prettily tonight, almost as pretty as you look. Such a good boy, Charles. You can cum.”

Strikingly, the approval works for both you and Charles. Twin cries of pleasure erupt as your orgasms blur your vision and burn through your muscles. The feeling of Charles’s cum splattering against your stomach sends another burst of light through your skin as you continue to grind fitfully on the silicone pad. A lake of wetness puddled on the poor man’s thigh, that squelches as you move. 

Charles is rendered silent as his cock continues to pulse even when the flow of his release ceases. Max brings his hand down to squeeze at his base and Charles releases a choppy scream as it pushes another couple of ribbons out of him. His hips thrust upwards with every string, forcing hisses of over sensitivity to slip from you as it drags the soaked pad against your cunt. You would happily crawl off his thigh, but you haven’t regained feeling in your legs yet. 

Thankfully, Charles deflates back into Max, his cock finally softening and slowly losing some of its flush. Tears start to leak from his eyes again, his chest shuddering through little sobs. You whimper softly at his tears and Max pulls you both to rest comfortably in the bed, as he shushes you two through the comedown. When the tears, shivers, and shakes halt, a pleased tilt of lips rises to Charles's face as his eyes dance between you and Max. 

The Dutchman unclips the toy from Charles’s thigh and smirks at the wet peeling noise that sounds.

“So…I assume this toy has your approval?”

© httpsserene2023

[sansaorgana]

— STILL PURE

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Feyd yells at his daughter for interrupting him at work. His wife confronts him about his behaviour as she tries to explain to the little Countess that her father was never taught how to express love.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Feyd is already the Baron in this fic but I assumed women cannot inherit on Giedi Prime so the daughter is "only" a Countess while her younger brother is a Na-Baron. I used my headcanon that if half-Harkonnen children have hair, then they're white because they lack pigment. I also wanted her to have big black Harkonnen eyes so badly... Basically, I wanted Feyd's daughter to look like this:

WORD COUNT — 2,990

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

STILL PURE

Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was circling around the big table in the conference room where the huge orb of Giedi Prime had been replaced with Arrakis’ one as one of his advisors was explaining the difficult situation regarding the spice production. The new wave of Fremen rebels who worshipped the long gone and deceased Muad’Dib decided to continue their idol’s legacy as they sabotaged the spice production controlled by The Harkonnen forces. The Governor of Arrakis was slowly losing control over the situation and Feyd would rather avoid going there himself. He was needed on Giedi Prime – especially now when The Emperor was on his deathbed. He had to be around in case something important would happen and everyone knew The Baron had his eyes set on the Imperial Throne. Feyd had to choose a new Governor of Arrakis or provide the current one with good advice, hoping for the Fremen problem to disappear soon. It was worrying him because it was giving him a bad reputation at the moment for having problems on Arrakis – it could make some leaders of the great houses to think he was not worthy enough to become the next Emperor.

Feyd’s hands were clasped behind his back as he circled like a shark and all his advisors looked down, taking a step back whenever he approached them. They knew his temper would only rise when he was angered whenever he would experience problems of such nature when it came to reigning over The Harkonnen properties.

“What does the Fremen leader say? Stilgar? That was his name?” Feyd barked at one of the scared advisors.

“Stilgar says he has no control over the cultists. He does not support their actions. He wants nothing but peace, my Lord,” the man bowed his head.

“How bad is it? The most important thing so far is to keep the problem on Arrakis a secret,” Feyd hummed to himself.

“Five percent of the decrease in the spice production income,” the other advisor answered. “Not bad, but can be noticeable in the amount we export.”

“We shall export some of our own private reserves to cover the loss. In the meantime, we have to deal with the cultists,” Feyd decided, already annoyed at the fact he had to sacrifice his own supplies just to cover up the careless governing of Arrakis which was not his fault. “Send more troops there, the operation should be classified confidential. Threaten Lord Volonov to take care of it. He’s got a month before I replace him with someone more capable…”

Quiet pat pat pat sound coming from the corridor was becoming louder and louder until the black doors finally opened slightly and the guard standing by them spotted a pair of two big black eyes staring up at him. 

“My Lord,” he tried to catch The Baron’s attention but Feyd had his back turned on him as he angrily explained the details of the operation to his advisors.

Little Countess Sevina Harkonnen gave the guard puppy eyes as she struggled with the heavy doors. She wanted to come inside and he didn’t know what to do. He was aware that his Lord Baron did not want to be interrupted but he didn’t want to close the door in the girl’s face either. He peeked outside but there was no servant around and The Baroness was not there either. He decided it would be better for the girl to come inside instead of letting her roam around the fortress alone.

She smiled widely at him and jumped inside the room happily as her white hair bounced. She was lucky enough to inherit most of her mother’s looks although her skin was paler, her hair lacked pigment and her pupils were nothing but two completely big black orbs – those were the eyes even her father did not have but they were a result of the pollution her mother’s body had been exposed to on Giedi Prime at the time of her pregnancy.

Not realising how tense the atmosphere in the room was, she approached her father as all the advisors and servants were making wide eyes at her. She stood behind The Baron and pulled on his shirt to make him turn around.

At first, he flinched at the odd feeling of someone pulling him. Who would dare to do that? He turned around quickly with an angry expression on his face but then he looked down and spotted his little daughter. She startled a bit at the sight of his annoyance but she kept staring at him with her big black eyes filled with love and excitement.

“What are you doing here?” Feyd barked at her.

“Can you play with me, daddy?” She pleaded with a big grin.

A few lords smirked at that and Feyd’s jaw clenched. Not only had she interrupted him but also humiliated him.

“Can’t you fucking see that I’m busy?!” He lashed out at her and she took a step back as her eyes filled with tears and betrayal. “Get out of here!” He pointed at the doors.

They opened at that very moment as the nanny entered the room and looked around, surprised at the sight of scared faces and the little Countess being in the centre of attention.

“There you are!” She opened her arms at the sight of the girl. “I’ve told you not to interrupt your father, he’s in the middle of a meeting,” she reminded nervously as the girl ran up to her and hid her face in the folds of her skirt. “Forgive me, my Lord,” the nanny bowed her head at Feyd-Rautha.

“You’re useless,” he drawled. “Get out.”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” the woman held Sevina’s hand and walked out as quickly as possible.

You left the nursery where your son na-baron had just fallen asleep. On your way back to your chambers, you passed by the doors leading to your daughter’s room and you froze at the muffled sound of sobbing. Concerned, you decided to enter without knocking.

Little Sevina was crying on her bed as the scared nanny tried to calm her down by rubbing her back and shushing her.

“What is going on?” You asked as the doors closed behind you.

“M-my Lady Baroness,” the nanny stood up and straightened herself to bow down slightly.

“What happened? Why is she crying?” You asked her in an accusing tone.

“I… I lost her out of my sight when we were playing earlier today, I’m sorry… I found the young Countess in her father’s conference room. She had interrupted The Baron during a council… I think he lashed out at her, my Lady…” the woman tried to explain nervously as her hands shook.

“You’re useless,” you sighed and she widened her eyes. “Get out, I’ll deal with that myself,” you pointed at the doors and she bowed down once again before leaving quickly.

You approached the bed and sat on the edge of it as Sevina raised her head to look at you. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of her cheeks covered in tears.

“What happened, sweet darling?” You asked her gently while you caressed her back.

“Why doesn’t daddy love me?” She asked with so much pain and sincerity in her tiny, shaky voice that you nearly cried yourself.

You knew it wasn’t true. Feyd-Rautha loved his daughter. Even though he had been a bit disappointed she was not a son in the beginning – he had only said not to worry about it much; that the boy would come next. He had been treating Sevina as if she was made of glass in the first months of her life, so scared of accidentally hurting her because hurt was all he knew.

“Oh, Sevina, don’t think that…” You sighed and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Daddy loves you so much,” you assured her but of course she wasn’t convinced. “He would kill and die for you, little girl,” you added.

“I don’t want him to kill and die for me, mummy,” Sevina sobbed as those were the concepts she was too young to grasp. “I just want daddy to play with me.”

“He doesn’t know how to play, Sevina,” you fixed her ruffled hair while trying to explain calmly. “He didn’t have a mummy or daddy when he was your age. The way I kiss you or hug you and play with you… He has never had it, darling,” you felt a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You were angry at your husband for yelling at your daughter and making her feel unloved but you were also angry at all the suffering that he had gone through in his past.

There were scars and damages that could never be undone, no matter how much you loved someone.

“And you’re big enough to know that daddy shouldn’t be interrupted when he’s working. You know that he tends to get angry more easily then,” you reminded her. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wanted daddy to play with me,” she snuggled closer to you and you kissed the top of her head, rubbing her tiny arms with your thumbs and cradling her softly to calm her down.

Feyd had been back in your chambers already when you entered. You froze at the sight of him, irritated. However, he seemed to act as usual.

“Five percent,” he snapped at you, although not angrily. “We will have to replace the loss with our own supply so the other lords don’t realise we are expecting problems on Arrakis. That stupid son of a bitch Volonov can’t handle a few cultists and…”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you interrupted him and turned your back on him to approach your vanity table and sit by it, pretending to be more interested in reapplying the powder.

“What?” Feyd was visibly surprised as he watched you in disbelief. You had always been a support for him, especially in difficult times. You both had been plotting on how to take over the Imperial Throne and now you weren’t interested in something as important as the problems with harvesting spice on Arrakis? It didn’t make sense to him.

You ignored him and focused on brushing your hair now, watching him from the corner of your eye in the reflection of the mirror of your vanity table. He approached you, hesitantly.

“What do you mean you’re not interested?” He tilted his head as he leaned in, trying to intimidate you but you didn’t even flinch.

“I’ve just spent an hour calming down Sevina. You yelled at her,” you eventually looked up to look deep into his eyes. He took a deep breath in, irritated.

“She should have learnt by now not to interrupt me,” Feyd straightened his back and walked away. “She’s spoiled,” he added. “Knows nothing about discipline. It’s your fault.”

“She’s a little girl,” you turned around. “You can’t expect military habits from her. She’s your daughter, Feyd.”

“She’s lucky I only yelled. If I interrupted my uncle as a child like that, I’d be punished!” He raised his voice at you, frustrated that you were defending your daughter and making a problem out of something that he considered to be normal.

You hated it when he would raise his voice at you. You stood up angrily and yelled as well.

“Oh, so you think she should be raised the same way you were?!” You asked. “Alright then! Go to her room, grab her by the neck and flog her back with a whip just because she wanted to play with her father!” You pointed at the doors furiously as your eyes were burning with wrath. “Go on! I dare you.”

But Feyd didn’t even move. His jaw was clenched as he was staring at you speechlessly.

“Go. What are you waiting for?” You kept pushing him. “Go on.”

You kept looking into his eyes with so much intensity he eventually gave up and looked down, awkwardly as the guilt started to creep in. You won.

“You rejected her. She thinks you don’t love her,” your voice calmed down but it was still vicious. “And I was assuring her that you do but it felt as if I was assuring myself, too,” you added, just to hurt him. “I can’t stand to look at you, Feyd-Rautha,” you drawled and approached the doors to leave him alone but not without striking the final blow. “I can’t believe I wanted to give you children so badly,” you turned your head to look at him as he looked up, surprised at your words, “because you don’t deserve them.”

The doors opened in front of you and you walked out to go back to your daughter.

You were sitting on the black fluffy carpet in the middle of Sevina’s room. She was on your lap, with her tiny arms around your neck, cuddling you. There were toys scattered all around the floor but she wanted to take a break for the loving cuddles. She was very unusual for a half-Harkonnen and you were very aware of the fact she was making most people around feel uncomfortable.

Not only her father but everyone in the fortress were stiff around sweet little Sevina who was so full of life and curiosity, always wanting to hug everyone – even servants and guards. Wherever she went, there was a sound of laughter and a sudden feeling of warmth. Countess Sevina Harkonnen was the very first little girl living in that fortress in a long time and she was so different from all its inhabitants. She was too young to know that she was a daughter of Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen – a man feared all over the Empire. That her bloodline was cursed with death and violence. She was still pure and innocent. Perhaps she was a living proof that The Harkonnens were not born this way after all – but they were made in the endless cycle of abusive upbringing. You did not want the same fate for her. You knew she would have to get rougher with time but you hoped she would still remain gentle, too.

The doors to her room opened and you looked up. At the sight of your husband, you protectively put your arm around your little girl. You doubted that he wanted to do what you had angrily suggested before but you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t anyway. Sevina stiffened at the sight of her father and clung to you. It brought you pain to realise that at that very moment she was afraid of him.

“Sevina, we have to talk,” Feyd stood above you two as he started in a serious tone. You gave him a scolding look and your little girl hid her face in the crook of your neck, hiding. “You know perfectly well not to interrupt me while I’m working.”

Long silence occurred. You could see Feyd’s struggle as he had no idea what to do to fix this situation between him and his daughter.

“Sevina, apologise to daddy,” you looked down and she looked up with tears in her big black eyes. “You shouldn’t have interrupted him and you know that, darling,” your voice was soft and calm and she sniffed.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” Sevina turned her body around to face him but she refused to look at him.

“Now, you apologise to Sevina for being mean,” you looked up at your husband and you spotted panic in his eyes. “Now,” you insisted sternly.

“I’m sorry for being mean to you,” Feyd crouched down to be on her level. She hesitantly looked at him. “Can I get a hug, too?” He asked and his voice broke a tiny bit. 

Slitting someone’s throat open was less awkward and unusual to him than to ask for a hug. Your heart ached for him but you were an adult capable of understanding his patterns. Sevina was not. 

Her heart was big, though, and she loved her father, so she would forgive him everything. She nodded her head with a happy smile and ran into his arms to squeeze him tight. Tears pricked your eyes at the sight.

“I love you, darling,” Feyd whispered quietly with his cheek pressed to the top of her head. “I would kill for you. I would die for you,” he confessed.

“But she doesn’t want any of that,” you explained. “She just wants you to spend time with her.”

“Is that right?” He looked down at his little girl and she looked up with her puppy eyes as she nodded. Her tiny hands reached out to cup his face.

“I love you, daddy,” she assured him. “Can you play with me?”

“I don’t know how to play, I’m sorry,” he admitted with guilt in his voice.

“I will teach you,” she hugged him again.

Feyd put his arms around his little girl and pulled her closer. You crawled on the carpet to give him a hug, too. You could feel that he was slightly trembling, so you leaned in to place a kiss on his temple as your hand caressed his head soothingly.

“It’s not weak to show affection,” you reminded him in a whisper. “I’ve never loved you more than when you are like this.”

Feyd laid his eyes on you. They were filled with a mix of pain, guilt and relief. At the end of the day, the only approval he was seeking was yours. You had him wrapped around your little finger.

“So, how do you want to play?” He asked Sevina as he caressed her white hair with admiration. She clapped her hands cheerfully.

“I want to be a Princess,” her eyes sparkled. “And you’ll be my guard.”

Feyd chuckled at that, showing off his black teeth. Sevina giggled as she had never found them scary.

“Soon enough, my darling one, you’ll be a real Princess,” he assured her.

MASTERLIST

[azulhood]

Jazz was, at her core, a pessimist.

Oh sure, she wanted the best outcomes and strived to always see the best in people. But listening to her parents talk about and share crime scene photos of someone who was brutally murdered and who may haunt the place they were headed to while true crime podcasts played instead of road trip tunes as they traveled to whatever graveyard had caught their interest had dulled young Jazz's faith in humanity.

Jazz still had memories of a young her standing in an abandoned insane asylum (or abandoned hospital, or old house, or graveyard, or whatever place they dragged her too) holding a small torch with shaky hands and begging to leave because she was terrified "Can we go? Please? this place is scaring me" only to be told "In a minute Jazzy, we down want the ghost getting away."

They had settled down after Danny was born, choosing to stay in one placed instead of traveling all over the country. She still expected them to unexpectedly announce that they were going on the road again, she had plans in case they did (saying she'd stay behind with the van to take care of Danny was better then both of them getting used as ghost bait) But surprisingly they didn't.

And Jazz was thrilled. Sure, she and Danny were known as the kids of the towns crazy ghosthunters, and sure, she basically had to raise her brother since her parents would rarely leave their lab let alone focus on something not ghost related, and yes, she did have to carefully plan out how to use the family's money so that none of them starved.

But no more sleeping in cheap hotels or their van, no more making friends at playgrounds that she'd never see the next day, no more countless hours spent in places where people died, no more English lessons while on the road. She went to school now, she had friends that she saw more than once, she had a home that wasn't filled with cockroaches and the sounds of a argument from the room next door. She had a semi-normal life.

In this time of normality, she relaxed, she let her guard down. Then Danny died and only came back halfway.

And Jazz was back to being that little girl who was scared of ghosts, only this time she was scared for a ghost.

Danny didn't tell her at first, and even though it hurt she understood, and so while she waited for him to tell her, she planned.

She took job after job, from mowing someone's lawn to working at a checkout. Money had been put aside in bags filled with clothes and a pair of new id that she had gotten from Tucker, ("Just in case our parents get classified as supervillains and we need to flee" She said not giving anyway that she knew of Danny's ghostly problem, Tucker had made the id anyway even if he thought she was joking and did not in fact have a plan should that situation happen) One of their neighbors was willing to let her buy their old car despite her family's driving history. A safe house (more like safe apartment) was bought in the only place that was willing to let a teen buy property, Gotham City.

Danny fought numerous enemies until the only enemy that was left was telling their ghost hunter parents that their son was half dead.

Compared to her, Danny was an optimist, seeing the best in everyone without even having to try like she did. Believing that the best would happen like if he didn't, he would break into a million pieces and not know how to put himself together again.

Even though he was scared Danny believed that their parents wouldn't react badly, Jazz hoped they wouldn't but was prepared if they did.

And finally, after many nights spent wide awake in case her parents tried to rip Danny apart molecule by molecule while she slept, the shoe dropped. Their parents loved them, but their work came first, it always came first. Jazz loved her parents, she truly did, but she loved Danny more. And in the end, that made her choice of driving all the way to Gotham with nothing but their go bags all the more easier.

And that was how Jazz and Danny ended up as the neighbors of one Jason Todd.

[thelikesoffinn]

„Astarion ending as the Vampire Ascendant is the correct ending for him, because it is what he wants.”

That is a claim I’ve been seeing pop up more and more often these days. And I think it’s both a very bold and a very odd claim to make.

But first things first: Hello, I’m a licensed social worker! So far, I’ve worked with children, refugees and youths with behavioural issues stemming from bullying and or abuse.

Please be aware that I will be mentioning different kinds of abuse, coping mechanisms, and victim/abuser relationships. If any of this is difficult for you, don’t force yourself through it. My jabbering about a traumatised vampire is not worth your wellbeing, not ever.

I will, however try to stick to Astarion and not use other examples. If, in any case, I do use a non-Astarion example, I’ll add a warning beforehand so that you can skip the part. And I’ll make it clear what will be discussed in the next bit, so that you have a chance to skip it entirely.

This is an effort to make this as accessible as possible for everyone that wants to indulge on a mad woman’s rambling – and I know there’s a few people that like this sort of stuff!

And, uh, there's obviously spoilers for all three acts. Serious spoilers, even.

Before I can get into the whole ‘why Astarion didn’t really want to ascend,’ we need to understand him a little more. And to understand this pretty boy’s brain, we first need to understand the gist of what we’re talking about when we throw around the word ‘abuse.’

“Abuse” is when someone is treated with cruelty, violence, or neglect – often to bad effect – on a regular basis. Repetitively. Check’s out for Astarion, I’d say, but we all knew that already. I mean, if one thing was obvious, it was this.

1. Astarions Abuse

Next we need to look at what kind of abuse Astarion faced over his long years of torment, seeing as different types of abuse will have different effects on the victim.

Not that that is anything we have to worry about with him – Astarion won the abuse lottery, to put it bluntly. In a horrible game of fate, he got everything. He himself indirectly mentions all the types of abuse he faced, albeit never using the correct terms.

The first we properly notice – fitting, seeing as it is often the most obvious form of abuse – is the physical abuse. Astarions scars are probably the biggest tell Larian could shove down our throats, only underlined by Astarion’s tale about the night itself. About how Cazador ‘misspelled something’ every time he flinched or screamed and had to do ‘many corrections. On top of this, Cazador locked Astarion up for months on end and tortured him – or had him tortured – on a regular basis both as a rite and as a punishment.

Next up, we have the fact that Astarion was forced to basically prostitute himself repeatedly. This is what we call sexual exploitation.

“I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my Master.” – Act 2

Two hundred years is a long time, filled with great many people. Now, we don’t know how many of those people actually tapped into the sexual exploitation and how many he could just lure back with other means, but the fact that it happened a lot is undeniable.

Next we have a form of abuse that we often disregard in adults: Neglect. It sounds odd, I know, saying that a fully grown adult was neglected. They can care for themselves, can they not?

Well. Yes and no.

Adult neglect is proceeded by the condition that one adult has to lean on another adult to fulfil their needs for whatever reason. This could be anything, from disability to income-based issues.  

Seeing as Astarion had absolutely nothing, while Cazador had everything, we can assume this was the case. Cazador had the house, the money, the power. Astarion owns but one pair of clothes, assumedly, that he has fixes over and over again. Fair to say, that’s pretty neglectful. (And it’s one more reason to shower the guy in pretty armour and camp clothes. Go ham, people.)

Last we have the form of abuse we actually get to witness later in the game – emotional abuse.

Once again, it’s undeniable that this happened. Especially since we’re all seeing it in the flesh upon meeting Cazador in his crypt.

“Have you no respect for yourself?”

“I strove for perfection in all things. Even those as imperfect as you.”

“A pity you amounted to so little, despite my efforts.”

“A pathetic little boy who never amounted to anything.”

All Act 3, Crypt

Here we have just a few examples of things Cazador throws in his face. It’s like reading a textbook on emotional abuse, this one (and it’s definitely a reason to throw hands).

Blaming the victim, keeping their sense of self and their self-worth as tiny as possible to make them cower and flee. A true classic.

This pretty much shows that Astarion suffered all forms of abuse we commonly see and it is implied – once again by Astarion himself – that at least a few of those instances were ritualistic.

Now, what does that mean exactly? Well, I fear I need to use a real example here, so please skip the next paragraph.

Ritualistic doesn’t refer to a proper ritual – it can, but that’s mostly a thing for those in a cult. So, we’re not necessarily talking about a ‘Vampire Ascendent Ritual’. A husband, beating his wife every evening after his third bottle of beer is also called ritual abuse. It happens regularly. It is part of a routine. Both parties know what will happen.

I can’t find the exact quote, so I’m working of my memory here, but at one point he said that when Cazador invited him to eat and he said yes, he would be served a putrid rat. If he said no, he’d be beaten.

The way it was phrased made it clear that it happened more than once and that Astarion clearly knew what would happen. So, this can be classified as ritualistic abuse.

2. A Note on Conditioning and Compliance

By default, abuse victims are conditioned to behave a certain way or in a certain fashion. This is a natural response to avoid further abuse.

In Astarion, the thing we see most often is his inherent need to please. Not literally, he doesn’t mind being an arsehole. But he initially feels the need to follow Tav’s orders, even if they go against his own wishes.

This can be clearly seen in the conversation with Araj Oblodra. Astarion very clearly doesn’t want to bite her. He doesn’t. But he will do so, if Tav tells him to. This behaviour is not conscious – he doesn’t know why he does it, he just does – and it is to be expected. This is how he kept himself save for two centuries, so of course he will fall back into his usual pattern when the pressure is high.

This goes hand in hand with the fact that most abuse victims don’t fight. Maybe initially, but not after long term abuse. Especially not after two fucking centuries.

This is true in Astarion – offered by his ‘siblings’ during act 3 and unhappily acquiesced by the man himself. Astarion stopped fighting and, once again implied, cowered, and did as he was told in order to survive.

3. The Astarion we know and love

Obviously, all that abuse does have an impact on our vampire boyfriend. He shows various common signs of abuse and just like with the forms of abuse, Astarion raked every coping mechanism he could find. (Not really, but it feels like it.) It’s also important to note that nearly all of the following things happen inwardly. Astarion is not one of the victims, that tries to rationalise and minimise the actions of his abuser. Quite the opposite, actually.

I’ll note from the beginning, that rationalisation will not be covered in this bit, as most examples will be important later on. But he definitely does it.

One of his biggest skills is to hide every ounce of fear or hurt behind sarcasm and snarky theatrics. He doesn’t seem to hide his anger much, though, so that’s something! Our boy is cool with anger, not so much with being afraid.

“Ahahaha, now that you mention it….I might have done…that.” – Act 3, regarding the Gur children

“The thing that will decide my fate forever more? Yeees, it’s been on my miiiind. Why?” – Act 2, regarding the Ritual

And there’s many more instances that prove this. Honestly, half his dialogue is sarcasm, so it would really be too long to get into and we all know what I mean, right? We have alltalked to the guy before. It’s obvious that he’s sarcastic to a fault.

This goes hand in hand with his penchant for defensiveness. I would personally state that he’s simply not really good with guilt. When talking about fear, he usually just opts for sarcasm or avoids the topic completely, but guilt especially has his defences going up. This is also when he’s most likely to shove all the blame off to Cazador.

“Don’t look at me like that. Cazadors orders.” – Act 3, Crypt

“I just did what I had to!” – Act 3, Crypt

And don’t get me wrong, he does that anyway. And with good reason. Astarion didn’t have a choice for the most part, but he’s still easy to shove things off.

This kind of connects to his penchant for denial.

Astarion doesn’t really like to talk about most things. He firmly believes he is an ‘action’ sort of person that just does instead of plans, which invertedly just means he’s great at pushing the thinking stuff away. He also likes to get rid of stuff, so that he doesn’t need to face it ever again.

“I never want to see these little scraps of misery again. The world doesn’t need to know my shame.” – Act 3, about the children

And yes, this partly rings true. He’s probably ashamed and doesn’t want anyone to know what he’s done. But it’s also very clear that he himself simply doesn’t want to face his own actions, something that is just  underlined by his extreme willingness to red rid of the other spawn.

As mentioned by Astarion himself, he’s big on manipulation. I mean, I don’t think there is much explaining necessary. The guy is willing to do a whole lot in order to get what he desires – which mostly revolves around safety and survival, to be honest – and he’s not really shy about it either. And that’s despite the fact that he doesn’t really like intimacy – especially in form of sex.

It’s not a secret that Astarion is not big on sex and anything surrounding it. This goes far enough for people to consider him either ace or ace coded.

A claim that, personally, I’m not super in line with.

Now, it’s not entirely wrong and if this is your head cannon I’m surely not going to stand in your way – but on a larger spectrum, I think he’s more traumatised than ace. And while those go hand in hand sometimes, it’s a bit difficult for the ace community if you attach traumatised characters to them because it can fuel a whole lot of stigma that is honestly neither needed nor wanted. But I digress!

If it comes to his own behaviour, he’s great at minimising his mistakes. Honestly, he’s a master of minimisation. A very obvious and famous example would be:

“’Killed’ feels like a…strong word. Not many corpses have your vigour.” – Act 1, after killing Tav

Astarion. You literally sucked poor Tav dry and left them flopping around, cold, and dead. Killed is exactly the right word and we all know it.

“Quite the deviation from my usual routine. Capture, not lure. I didn’t bring them in with sweet rolls or anything.” – Act 3, Gur Children

This is another attempt at minimising what he did, if a bit less obvious because at this point there isn’t much he can say. But at least he didn’t sexualise the gur children, right? They’re still spawn but whoo, at least that didn’t happen.  

The next point would be dissociation, which is extremely common in abuse victims – of all forms of abuse.

Astarion himself mentioned certain moments that could be classified as dissociation over course of the story, which is probably the coping mechanism I personally expected the most.

The pale elf has a penchant for violence, but he’s not entirely shameless or abhorrently vile, which gets clearer the more the story progresses. So, two hundred years of forced prostitution, torture and doing whatever other horrible things? Yeah, I’d be more surprised if he didn’t dissociate.

Examples of that would be:

“A moment of disgust to push myself through and then I could’ve carried on, just like before.” – Act 2, after Araj

“I felt nothing the moment I handed them over.” – Act 3, Gur Children

“Did you enjoy it? It felt like you weren’t fully there.” – Act 1, Tav after Sex

The latter is generally more of an assumption than actual prove, but with context it does make sense.

The last common sign of abuse we find in our boyfriend would be his low self-worth. It’s a consistent trait that stays over the course of all three acts, noticeable in many different conversations.

We can see it in his reaction to wanting to break up before finishing his story. We can see it in his genuine surprise when Tav picks him over any of the other characters. We see it in his insecurity whenever Tav asks to sleep with another character. He’s fine with it, but he still worries their decision to sleep with someone else is based on something he did.

It eases up ever so slightly after Cazador is dead, but even then he’s still struggling which is once again perfectly illustrated if you try to break up with him.

“Oh shit. I- Did I do something wrong?”

That is the first thing he asks and I think it speaks for itself. He genuinely doesn’t believe he has much to offer and for Astarion, it’s likely that Astarion will always be the problem.

4. "Oh, I tried them all none of them answered.”

Another big thing that’s important to note, is that Astarion was never saved. No one came to save him from Cazador. There was no darling boy on a white steed riding into that castle to rescue him and princess carry him away. Not even the gods answered his desperate calls.

So, he never received any kindness or luck. To him, the world seems as cruel and horrid as before because he didn’t have the chance to experience goodness in two centuries.

But worse than that, he didn’t even get to save himself. Astarion didn’t stand up to Cazador, he didn’t run out of his own might.

He was beaten to near death and ‘saved’ by Cazador, who would become his abuser.

He tried to save someone and, in turn, was locked up and starved for an entire year.

He was abducted by mind flayers, i.e., saved from Cazador, only to end up tadpoled and on the cusp of getting a fancy, squiddy beard.

Anything that’s good, any kindness, any selfless action…it all came with a ginormous price tag.

5. Over the Course of the Story

Astarions behaviour changes a whole lot over the course of three acts – which is important once we talk about his quests climax – so let’s review what we’re working with!

Act 1 Astarion is guarded as fuck. The man has walls around him that are so high, even the gods can touch them.

A lot of his behaviour in act 1 revolves around staying save and staying liked. He lies, manipulates, and flutters his lashes in order to get what he wants and needs. Instead of asking, like Wyll, Karlach and Gale do, Astarion uses all he has to offer to get by. He is still very much in survival mode and tries to weasel his way through an unfamiliar situation with familiar methods.

On top of that, and most notably, he’s absolutely not fond of kindness or selflessness.

#I saved a child and now my boyfriend is mad

Here, we are most likely to gain disapproval for doing the decent thing – unless you sent him outside for a minute whenever you’re being a good person.

And I’d assume that this is because of two things.

First: The very traditional ‘Why not me?’

As I mentioned before, Astarion wasn’t saved. He hasn’t experienced kindness in a very long time so seeing that the world is literally filled with kind people is hurtful. Why didn’t anyone save him? Why was he left to his own devices for so long? Why should he care about others when it’s so clear that no one ever cared about him? No, dead to all of them. If he didn’t get it, neither will they.

“And what am I owed? What about the injustices I suffered? Am I not entitled to anything?” – Act 3, Crypt

“I was in the prime of my life when I was turned. Everything was taken from me too.” – Act 3, Crypt

And secondly is the fact that, as I mentioned, goodness always has a price. And it’s one most people won’t be willing to pay. That’s how his life has been, so why would theirs be different?

This is precisely why Astarion may disapprove of kind actions, but he mostly neither approves nor disapproves if Tav asks for payment. That’s just how the world works.

Once you venture out into act 2, after getting to know him a whole lot more, he starts to mellow a bit – if only towards Tav.

“He’s afraid, so afraid, of everyone but you, who she should fear the most.” – Sceleritas about Astarion

His approval is a lot easier to gain – or at least keep! – and he tends to approve of some more proper actions. He doesn’t throw a fit if you promise to find Mol, he approves of Tav being kind to His Majesty, of saving Aylin and he even approves of Durge apologising to Isobel after threatening to rip her to pieces.

He's slowly starting to open up, allowing Tav to see some parts of him he previously kept hidden. He accepts their offer to help, if hesitantly and, by god, the man starts experimenting with boundaries.

The social worker in me is shedding tears at this. It’s my favourite thing to see in my clients and it’s no different here. Yay to saying no!

Of course, it’s still a bit hit or miss. If Tav urges him to bite Araj, for example, he will only to later notice that he didn’t fucking have to. He recognises this on his own and he calls Tav out on it. Just like he calls them out on not helping him with his Orthon quest.

Good job, chap. Good fucking job.

And the growth-train won’t stop going even as we reach act 3.

In act 3, there’s not many things he disapproves as of right now – those he does, mostly have to do with how Tav treats him and not with anyone else. In fact, he’s more likely to approve good behaviour now, like giving Yenna food or money.

And yes, we need to consider that this could simply be because he gets used to Tav’s behaviour and just learns to roll with it. But it’s also highly likely that he notices that there’s truly good people around. At least one person. And that person is not only good, no, they’re in the process of helping him break free once and for all.

They’re helping him save himself.

By act 3, he has learned that he can absolutely say his piece where Tav is concerned and he’s more likely to disagree with them on certain things. It’s seen during a lot of small dialogue that he’s no longer terribly afraid to be honest with them, willing to listen and talk and he’ll ask for help if he needs it.

“I can do this. But I need your help.” – Act 3, Crypt

Something that can be viewed both positively and negatively is that he’s definitely loyal to a fault. He will stick by Tav’s side, no matter what.

“I really hoped we could avoid being pawns for a dark god, but here we are, I suppose. I’m with you, my dear, wherever this might lead.” – Act 3, After Jaheira confronts durge

As I said, this can be both positive and negative. On one count, it’s a recipe for disaster, seeing as he could be waltzing into a really bad situation for Tav alone.

But on the other side…this is a man who only cared about himself because that is the only person he could afford to care about. He needed to survive. He now has enough room to breathe and the capacity to care for someone else and I’d be inclined to count that as a good thing.

6. The Crypt

All the progress he made in act 2 and 3 is nearly tossed into the wind as soon as the crew enters Cazadors castle.

It’s not an immediate thing, of course.

At first, Astarion tries to stay light and simple and he hides behind flippant tones and relaxed faces. The way he recounts this is almost comically disinterested and the façade is actually quite good.

It’s start’s cracking after we meet Godie, one of the people who tortured him on more than one account, but he mostly manages to remain as upbeat as one can honestly expect for the first half of the journey.

All that, however, is done for the very moment we meet Sebastian. His mask not only slips, no, it full on shatters and there’s none of his apparent lightness left.

Which, of course it does.

The man is suddenly faced with years and years and years of victims. Innocent, unlucky people he lured back to his master over two centuries. People he liked, people he pitied.

“It’s sickening, seeing them again.”

It’s basically a room filled with guilt, exclusively for Astarion. And, as we mentioned before…Astarion is not great with guilt.

The guilt, however, is not where it ends.

No, he’s also faced with reflections of his own past. The spawn pose as reminders of what he did, sure, but also as reminders of what he was.

Weak, desperate, hungry.

There’s an abundance of images of his worst moments, reflected back at him in the thousands. It’s probably like staring into a funhouse mirror, but instead of seeing yourself in a funky way he just sees everything he so desperately doesn’t want to be.

“It should be [who I am]! I don’t want to be like them. They’re pathetic, horrible…”

He’s forcefully made aware of how darn weak he can be, which claws at all the wounds he’s barely had time to close. Something, he of course won’t admit if asked.

“THEY DO NOT [remind me of myself]. That weakness in me is dead, IT’S DEAD. I have a higher purpose.”

The high pressure of the moment brings out all of his act 1 traits in but a few moments. You can pretty much watch how he starts to shut down mid conversation, one of his old walls snapping back into place to remove himself from the situation.

Thing is though, walls usually become a bit brittle after disuse. Especially when talking to a person you don’t usually want to wall out.

Or, in his case, when talking to Tav.

After meeting Sebastian, Astarion shows extreme reactions to Tav nudging any of his weak spots. His reaction varies on whatever choice you make, but it ranges from aggression to defensiveness, to denial and even to downright begging Tav.

“Don’t hate me. I just did what I had to. I swear I did what I had to.”

This probably the most shocking out of all of them, since that is not something we got to witness before. The begging is likely a mixture of intense fear of losing Tav, his low self-esteem and pre-Tav behaviour, since we can assume that Cazador made him beg more than once.

Another old coat he puts back on would also be the least surprising of them all.

Manipulation.

He falls right back into it, using Tav’s affection to get what he want if we trigger the right action.

“If they die and I ascend, I won't have to rely on the parasite to walk in the sun. I'll be free. Truly completely free. Isn't that what you want?”

This, to me, was probably the biggest tell that Astarion was back in survival mode. He’s panicking, for fucks sake, and who can blame the guy? He’s back. He’s about to face down his abuser.

Of course he’s fucking panicking.

Panic leads to an increased craving for safety and, in his case, power. This is why he clings to Tav, why he begs them to love him still. And this is why he jumps head first into the rationalisation pool.

“I will need to sacrifice them all if I want to perform the ritual. - [You can save them.] – What’s the point? They're as good as dead! I thought they were dead. If they are unleashed, they will cause incredible carnage. […] They must die. Better they serve a purpose.”

Another textbook example.

They must die anyway. They’re basically dead. No need to save them now. They’re dangerous, I’m doing the right thing by sacrificing them. I already thought they were dead, so it’s not changing anything for me. They’re a lost cause and I deserve  all this power. I deserve it, because I suffered and nothing will change if they die.

So, seeing as we already spoke about his usual behaviour in act 3 – behaviour he showed after we allowed him to breathe and be himself for a while – I think we can fairly easily conclude he’s not thinking straight.

Astarion is right back in survival mode, where all that matters is he himself. If it weren’t for the seven thousand spawns, he might have moved through this more gracefully, but seeing those tipped the scales and Astarion is absolutely losing it.

Remember that for the last section, per favore.

7. The Ascension

“Astarion wants to ascend and Tav manipulates him into doing what they want.”

That is basically the essence of what people often claim and I can’t help but shake my head at such a blatant disregard of everything he has become. This is completely ignoring the change and growth he has gone through over the course of their journey.

Astarion wants to be free. He wants to be safe. That does not mean he wants to ascend.

And the claim that Tav manipulates him into doing anything is even more baffling. We are all aware that Tav is not manipulative by nature, yes? That is entirely on you. You decide who your Tav is.

And then let’s remember: Astarion is panicked. He’s afraid and he’s not thinking straight. His abuser is on his knees before him and he still feels so weak. And there’s seven thousand spawns that need handling.

Astarion is very much not okay right now.

In fact, reading his thoughts just proves this theory.

“You can see the fear in his eyes but also the hunger. The thick smell of blood in the air and the promise of power being so close is intoxicating to him. All he can see is the power of the ritual and the freedom that power brings. The freedom to do anything. To be anything.”

Tav, however, has none of those problems. They can actually see beyond the current situation and they are fully aware what the consequences are. Astarion is not. As we previously established, Astarion is a doer. Not a thinker. He didn’t think this through, not at all.

The only thing Tav is doing – the persuasion roll – is reminding him of the very real consequences he is facing. The consequences he hasn’t thought about before.

"I know you think this will set you free, but it won't. This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador."

And that is the kindest thing Tav could do in this situation. They’re not bodily dragging him away from Cazador. They’re not even telling him to not do it. They’re just offering him the truth. He can do with that information whatever he desires.

“Astarion cries when he doesn’t ascend, that just shows that it was the wrong choice.”

A hare-brained point that I thankfully have only seen once so far.

That crying? That is healthy crying.

That is him, crumbling under the stress that suddenly dissipates. That is him mourning two hundred years of torment. That’s him letting out feelings he hasn’t been able to for centuries.

And, for the love of god, try to put yourself in his shoes.

Two hundred years of torment, ended in but a moment.

Astarion was abused and tortured for so long, afraid for so long only to see his tormentor die just like that.

Cazador died within a moment and all Astarion needed was a darn blade. Of course he fucking cries.

Seeing how pathetic a being the very core of your life’s misery actually is hurts. It hurts like hell because not only are you finally free – free! – no, you’re faced with the fact that this pile of nothing, the thing that’s bleeding out right in front of you…this was what tortured for so long.

This thing hurt you so much. That guy took everything from you, everything you once were, and broke it again and again and again over years.

You were so scared of this thing.

And yet he has the gall and the gumption to die just like that.

It was so easy.

And yet you suffered for so long.

8. Evil Playthrough?

An evil playthrough is really a different setting altogether.

All of this, as you can probably tell, is really only applicable on a good playthrough. Realistically speaking. I’m not sure how the game mechanics handle it.

On an evil path, Astarion never really gets to experience kindness and goodness. Evil Tav will just prove him right in his believe that the world is a vile and cold place, meaning that he realistically would be more inclined to actually want to ascend.

9. Final Conclusion

I think all of this should be enough to make it clear that no, ascended Astarion is not the best ending for the guy. In fact, it is probably the worst. Because it’s just him, running away. He’s running into a lonely and cold state of being, where cruelty and power lord over everything else and he’s running because he’s terrified of being hurt again. He’s running despite desperately wanting to stop running.

“I'll spend the rest of my life running watching the shadows, never feeling safe…no, this has to happen. Here and now.”

And, the worst part is: Nothing about Astarion is left after he ascends. Even his tone of speaking gradually changes, his theatrics fading. He’s slowly losing himself, until there’s nothing but an evil caricature left.

So, in the end, ascension will have proven him right.

That version of him is dead.

[girlkisser13]

dating tim drake would include

• tim is really sweet. he’ll kiss you to welcome you home or say goodbye when he goes out on patrol and he’ll happily carry you to bed if you fall asleep on the sofa and makes sure to tell you that he loves you everyday.

• he hacks your computer sometimes (for good reasons though). like you’ll just turn on your computer/laptop and your background is changed to a picture of you and tim together. <33

• even though everyone knows that you’re dating he still gets quite flustered and is prone to blushing if you call him a pet name in front of others. (you’d definitely do this just to see him blush).

• tim has your coffee order memorized (no matter how complicated it is).

• tim is SUPER clingy when he’s sleepy, like he can be needy and just want to hug and kiss you all the time. they’re kinda sloppy because he’s tired but his lust for affection is still cute.

• he cuddles or hugs you any chance he gets to make up for the many hours he spends on his computer away from you.

• since he’s a detective, he notices every detail including anything off about yourself. if something is wrong he will notice immediately no matter how good you are at hiding it, afterward he’d do pretty much anything to make you feel better. (even leave his computer for a day or so).

• he notices everything about you. favorite flower, favorite color, he always seems to notice that you’re cold even before you do and wraps his jacket around you. that intense focus can be a lot, sometimes, a bit overwhelming even. but at the same time you’re touched that he just seems so interested in everything about you. he wants to learn every last detail about you and is willing to take the time to do so.

• tim works really hard and doesn’t keep regular sleep patterns as a result, which means it’s up to you to make sure he gets proper sleep most of the time. plus, you’re one of the few people he actually listens to since you’re basically his favourite person. <33

• you have to learn most of his sweet spots to use against him whenever you’re trying to drag him away from the computer for a break.

• he remembers important dates even if it’s last minute— he still remembers. anniversaries, birthdays, you name it and if it’s anything to do with you then he’ll remember it and usually buys the best gifts for you.

• he celebrates the most ridiculous anniversaries, and he always remembers them. like, “it’s been one year since the first time you held my hand” or “it’s been a month since we went to that fair and rode the ferris wheel”.

• he lets you play with his hair and it’s so entertaining, he doesn’t mind and finds it relaxing when you run your fingers through it, he always checks to see what he looks like after you’ve styled it whether it be a man bun, ponytail, or braids. you told him that he looked good in a loose ponytail once and you he didn’t take it out for whole day.

• the two of you get take out food at least once a week because tim cannot cook to save his life, he just gets too distracted and the food gets burnt. he will also take time just to eat with you and ask about your day rather than work or will watch tv with you.

• tim LOVES watching detective shows with you but but sometimes it can get annoying because will usually ruin the ending by telling you who the criminal is and the exact reasons for his motives so it’s difficult to ignore the fact he just destroyed the next 45 minutes for you.

• he’s a literal genius so if you need help with anything he is on it, he’s actually written your essays for you before but you know that you couldn’t pass them off as your own because it’s not your writing style and you redo them using his basic ideas. you’re very appreciative of his assistance but tell him he doesn’t need to do that for you. however, he shakes it off as if it was nothing.

• he loves you and your acceptance of his coffee loving and sleep-deprived ways. <33

[midnighvtm4ss]

Rosemary

Summary: After finding out Arthur’s secret you soothe your aching heart with a nice girls night out drinking in Rhodes. Unfortunately for you your problems seem to follow you everywhere. part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

AO3 link (a better rewritten version of this fic on ao3)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

Content: angst, hurt/no comfort, nothing a girls night out cannot cure ;) grammar errors for sure :(

a/n: I know you guys all wanted part 2 to be their happily ever after but,, I crave some more angst so yeah it gets messyy !! But nonetheless our girl gets some fun with the girls and some more information about Arthur and Mary’s hush hush meetings. Let me know your thoughts about it and if you sweets want part 3 !! P.S. I recommend you listen to “Rosemary” by Sierra Ferrell while reading. It’s so so good, it also kinda inspired this little fanfic here <33 (gif from pinterest)

“G’mornin’ sweet girl” Arthur groggily whispered against your neck giving you a light kiss, the movement causing the thick hair of his beard to tickle the space between your neck and your shoulder, before rolling out of bed with a tired groan, the mattress shifting under his movements unlike your unmoving form.

After your late night discovery of not one, not two but a whole drawer full of your boyfriend’s ex-fiancé letters it was safe to say that sleep didn’t come easy for you. As much as you wanted for all of this to be a dream, to close your eyes, wake up and sigh of relief laughing about the ‘bizarre dream’ you had with your Arthur while cuddling under the soft protection of the thick bed sheets, reality decided to slap you right in the face instead, leaving you awake all night trying to hold onto all the broken pieces of your heart.

During your sleepless night you wandered to yourself your next move. Should you just throw everything into his face revealing to him that you knew that the ‘sorry fellow’ of the letter was, in reality, his ex fiancé and yell at him as soon as he wakes up or wait and find out more before confronting him ? Considering the fact that you couldn’t properly read, you just had Mary’s name on various envelopes as evidence. Maybe they’re catching up on each other’s life. Just harmless conversations.

Although your heart screamed at you to just confront him first thing in the morning you knew that with what little evidence you had you would just cause a scene. You needed to go deeper into this story. As much as I’d hurt you needed to know for sure if you wasted three years of your life going after a man whose heart had already been claimed a long time ago.

You brushed off Arthur’s affection muttering a quick tired ‘morning’ before stretching your limbs out and leaving the tent, ignoring the man behind you still sitting on the bed looking at you with a puzzled expression at the lack of your usual loving greeting. Even though you two had the biggest tent in camp, aside for Dutch, it felt claustrophobic being in there with him. You needed space to think, to breathe, to not hurt.

The fresh breeze of October grounding you from your spiraling thoughts as you walked towards the pot of coffee on the fire near Pearson’s tent.

“Well look who’s here in all her glory” a voice, which you recognized as Karen’s by the thick accent, basically yelled at you over the nearby round table.

“You look like you fought a damn herd of buffalos Miss. What the hell are you an’ that old man doing in the night” she cackled at the last sentence gesturing you to join her at the table. Seated on her left Tilly shook her head sending you a sympathetic look.

“Are you already drunk ? Why are you so loud for, it’s seven in the morning” you grumbled in your mug of coffee as you took a sip, instantly cringing at the burnt taste that filled your mouth before sitting down with them.

“I’m happy to inform you that I haven’t had a sip since yesterday at lunch” she smiled smugly lifting her chin up at her achievement.

“That’s ‘cause we haven’t seen Miss Grimshaw yet. Bet you by the end of the day you’d kill for a little bit of booze after that woman.” Tilly said fixing the buttons on her yellow blouse, her words reminding you of the long day ahead of you, making you mentally shiver. It wasn’t exactly that you dreaded the woman, after all, you all knew she cared about you in her own twisted way but her attitude didn’t help with making the camp’s chores more tolerable. It seemed like the warmer weather of Lemoyne was putting everyone on edge.

After a few minutes of Karen and Tilly arguing on what was the worst chore to do around camp Abigail and Mary Beth’s dainty figure joined your small group, Mary Beth’s eyes briefly locking on yours before greeting the other girls. You couldn’t quite understand the meaning behind that look but something told you that at some level she knew something about the letters. That possibility made you nauseous to even think of because it would mean that Mary Beth, the girl who always put a smile on your face, the one who always had your back ended up covering for your cheating partner. You needed to know the truth and you needed it now. But before you could even mutter a word to her Karen called your group to attention.

“Gals, I don’t know about y’all but if I stay just one more moment in this godforsaken camp I’m gonna lose my mind.” her statement gaining a few nods and grunts among your group. With the unnecessary gunfight in Valentine leading you all to move further away from the West and this absurd play at sheriffs in town, tension was undeniably high around camp. “I heard from a handsome fella I met in town that there’s going to be some famous lady from Saint Denis singing at the saloon this evening. Heard also there’s going to be some rich folks from Saint Denis with her. Are y’all thinking the same thing I’m thinking ?”

there was a moment of silence as Karen looked at everyone with gleaming eyes.

“Hells know I need a break from this. I’m in” Tilly was the first who broke the silence followed by Mary Beth, the two girls earning a big smile from Karen.

“I don’t know, I have Jack and,” Abigail never had a chance to finish the sentence as Karen immediately interrupted her, telling her to leave Jack with Hosea for a few hours at not make a fuss. It’s not like you were going to be there all night, plus god’s knows how that woman needed some well deserved time for herself once in a while.

You couldn’t lie, the idea of going out after weeks of being in the same spot with the same routine every day excited you quite a bit and if on top of that you add some good ol’ pickpocketing then consider yourself sold. You were going out this evening no matter what.

“Are y’all lazy do-nothin’ girls done chit chatting !? There’s so much work to do today and you’re all sittin’ there doing nothin’. This generation is unbelievable. Get your asses off to work. Now.” The unmistakable trill of Miss Grimshaw's voice shook you from your comfortable seats putting you all to work for the day. As you got up from your seat you tried your best to ignore Arthur’s piercing gaze on you.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

The sun was slowly setting over flat iron lake, the sky tinted with a mixture of oranges and pinks. You passed your day washing the camp's dirty laundry, scrubbing dry blood and dirt from the old fabrics of each camp’s member clothes. Managing more or so to avoid Arthur throughout launch, the task not easy as he sat down with you and wouldn’t stop talking to you or asking you questions. You tried your best to not straight up ignore him, answering with monosyllabic answers to his questions. Eventually, he understood you weren’t having it, his hands leaving their place on top of the one you had flat on the table. An annoyed expression evident on his face. Why all of a sudden were you ignoring him ? His mind working miles an hour to find out what he did wrong but failing at the task. You seemed fine last night so what the hell happened to make his darling so distant from him.

When you were getting up from the table to put your dirty dish in the washing bin he tried to stop you, his calloused hand delicately taking your wrist. His confused face met with your tired one. He studied your face almost as if the secret to your behavior was hidden through your mesmerizing features. He tried to say something but the words wouldn’t come up, leaving both of you staring into each other eyes, his aqua ones filled with turmoil, before Uncle's voice burst your bubble calling Arthur for work.

After that, you only saw him half an hour later mounting on his horse before riding off.

You definitely needed this night with the girls.

Putting on your last finishing touches to your lipstick you met with Tilly and Abigail near the horse-drawn carriage that Lenny swiftly stole from a nearby town.

“Hello ladies,” you faked a bow lifting your skirt up by the sides the action causing the other two girls to laugh “ready for this eventful evening ?”

“Well of course I’m ready” Tilly replied mimicking your fake posh accent before getting on the carriage helped by Lenny who was your driver for the night since he also had some business to attend to. You waited for Karen and Mary Beth before going off to town, the drive to Rhodes filled with light chit-chat and silly songs, your mind and heart already feeling at ease.

As you all thanked Lenny for the drive you looked around noticing the numerous people around you, the town buzzing with life but most importantly buzzing with opportunities to steal. Before entering the saloon you strolled through the town, Abigail and Mary Beth’s skilled hands already pickpocketing around while you, Karen and Tilly distracted the poor fellas.

Twenty dollars in your pocket and half an hour later you entered the saloon, gladly finding an empty table to sit near the stage that was occupied by a tall blonde woman in a fancy dress who you deduced was the famous singer from Saint Denis.

With drinks on the table and the sweet melody of the guitar, a light conversation about your successful operation sparked amongst your group until a man approached your table, the heavy scent of alcohol evident on him as he tried to drunkenly flirt with Tilly, ending up insulting her rather than woo her earning a slap in the face from the girl, attracting some attention to your table. Luckily the slimy man was too drunk to react and decided to wander off as you all giggled at the situation.

Round after round you all let loose getting up to dance to the merry melody of the music. Tilly standing near the table swaying in her red dress, with Karen by her side singing her heart out, already too drunk for her own good, while Abigail chatted with one of the men from Saint Denis. You shot her a wink as soon as you noticed the wealthy man making her face light up with mirth.

What an absolute fool you are John Marston.

The only two sitting down were you and Mary Beth, whose eyes never left you since sitting down. Her presence a reminder of your cracked heart. It was supposed to be a fun night at the saloon away from your problems, but your curiosity and need to be wrong about Mary and Arthur gnawed inside of you.

“Mary Beth,” you cautiously greeted her, scooting your chair closer to hers so the other girls wouldn’t hear the two of you from their nearby positions. You didn’t want any more drama to spread around tonight.

“Hi,” there was a long uncomfortable pause before she looked up to you again and started blurting everything out. “I’m sorry, I really do. I should have told you he was receiving letters from her again I just didn’t know how to tell you. When I found the first letter two weeks ago he told me he was gonna tell you. But then I saw how you reacted yesterday seeing her letter and I knew he didn’t” She took your hands in hers before continuing, her words coming out fast, the alcohol in her system making her accent heavier “Oh I’m such a fool, please forgive me, I just didn’t want to come between your relationship”.

You were taken aback by her sudden confession, you thought it would be a tad more complicated to let her open up to you about it. Hearing her point of view definitely helped you clear your mind a bit, she had a fair point. It wasn’t her fault Arthur decided to hide something like this. Your anger towards that man growing more and more. Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but notice one thing.

“You said the first letter arrived two weeks ago ?” you asked her. His drawer was full of letters, it was impossible to send that many letters in just two weeks.

“Yes, then I gave it to Arthur, I usually pick up the mail but Arthur has been helping me lately, why?” you started to fidget with the bracelet Arthur gifted for your first anniversary, a small gesture you did when thinking or anxious. The dots in your mind slowly connecting.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

You were about to go back to camp, everyone was on the carriage. Lenny, who had come back from his business with some intel, was back in his driver seat ready to go when you noticed you forgot your gloves at the saloon. Quickly apologizing you clumsily hopped down the carriage, your tipsy state making your movements far from gracious, giggling to yourself you walked back to the saloon to retrieve your gloves. Thankfully they were still on the table untouched.

As you walked back to the carriage enjoying the chilly weather of October from the corner of your eyes you noticed a familiar figure standing outside a building. Maybe it was the alcohol running through your veins or perhaps your curious nature but you turned to steal a glance at the figure.

All color drained from your face as you saw who it was.

As you saw her.

You met her just once in the past but the figure you saw was unmistakably the one of Mary. Smiling up at a man you instantly recognized.

You felt your heart cracking even more. You ran away as fast as you could, leaving pieces of your shattered heart behind as you reached the carriage, quickly hopping on.

During the whole ride, you tried your absolute best to not cry in front of everyone and ruin the cheerful mood, biting the inside of your cheeks as a distraction.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

You were back in your tent when Abigail stopped by.

“Hey, I saw you earlier and you didn’t look so good, are you ok sweetie ?” she asked, her sweet voice full of concern as she put her hand on your shoulder moving it in a calming manner, the tone of her voice and her action causing you to break down in tears like a child to their mother. She quickly pulled you into one of her comforting hugs as you violently sobbed your heart out. Soft ‘It’s ok’ left her lips as she held your shaking form in her arms. Managing to let out a small ‘Arthur’ to answer her question on what was wrong.

Seeing him with Mary tonight was the final straw. You didn’t need any more evidence, you already had everything you needed. He lied to Mary Beth about the letter, he lied to you about it too, matter of fact he lied to you about everything. How could he walk around kissing you, touching you, acting all caring as if nothing. As if he didn’t have a drawer with Mary’s letters, as if he didn’t lie to you this whole time.

Your heartbreak slowly turned into anger, the more you thought about it the more your blood boiled.

“Wanna talk about it ?” sensing you calming down from your sobs she gently fixed a strand of hair behind your ear, a concerned expression evident on her fair features. You dried your tears, your hands stained with mascara. You undoubtedly looked like a mess, or at least you felt like it.

Then, a familiar sound of hooves on the ground could be heard from the entrance of camp.

Arthur was back.

“Oh, so help me God I’m gonna strangle that piece of shit”.

[rapz-rites]

They All Know Now

That Batfam finds out Damian has a gf, but not from Damian

A/N: just randomly had this idea. Mostly a group chat between the Batfam reacting the finding out Damian has a boo thang

Enjoy 😊

Word Count: 850+

Warning: Cursing, Dick being a drama queen, Tim doubting Damian’s rizz

Damian hadn’t expected for people to find out, especially not like this

Why can’t people just mind their own business 

This whole thing was stupid

You and Damian went out to this small fair just outside of Gotham for a date

You thought it would be unnecessary to wear disguises

You wanted a normal date without disguises and paparazzi

But you were wrong

You guys were having a nice time, walking and holding hands, sharing some cotton candy 

Unfortunately, someone from Gotham Academy was there too

They took a picture and somehow media outlets got it

It was going viral

The headlines ranged from “Damian Wanye Mystery Girl” to “Who is this girl? Lover or Gold Digger”

A few months ago, you and Damian got matching promise ring

One news outlet mistook them for wedding rings

“Nothing like his billionaire father, Damian Wayne is locked in”

When you showed Damian the headlines

You found them hilarious 

Damian didn’t

Not even 10 minutes after you showed him the first headline the ‘BatChat’ group chat

Made by none other than Dick Grayson

BATCHAT 🦇

GRAYSON: Attachment: 5 images 2 videos

                   WHAT IS THIS?

                   DAMIAANNNNN!!!!!

DAMIAN : What do you want?

                 I’m busy.

CASS : Are you with Y/N?

DAMIAN : Yes.

GRAYSON : Is that why you’ve been disappearing lately??

TODD : Wow….

            The demon spawn got a girlfriend

            I thought Raven was going to be the one and only

DRAKE : Wait…

  Damian really has a girlfriend???

DUKE : Haven’t you been keeping up

DRAKE : No really…

I’m busy ok

STEPH : Are we going to ignore the fact that Cass knew and didn’t tell us

GRAYSON : Yea Cass

                    Why didn’t you tell us???

CASS : Not my secret to tell

DAMIAN : That's why she was allowed to know

CASS : Bruce knew too

GRAYSON : I feel betrayed

                    Why didn’t you tell me?

                   🥲.

DUKE : I wonder why

            🙄.

GRAYSON : Don't sass me rn Duke

DAMIAN : Cass, Y/N wants to know if you’re going on patrol on Friday.

TODD : SHE KNOWS?!!?!?!

            Does Bruce know she knows?

GRAYSON : OF COURSE HE KNOWS

                 Its Bruce

CASS : I’m not.

            Why?

DAMIAN : She says “we need to finish the movie from our sleepover”

STEPH : YOU TWO HAD A SLEEPOVER WITHOUT ME

DUKE : What was the movie?

TODD : Really Duke?

           That’s what you want to know

DUKE : Yes… leave me alone

DAMIAN : I don’t know.

DUKE : Can you ask please 🙏🏾 

DAMIAN : She said they finished Salt, with Angelina Jolie and are now on Mr and Mrs Smith

CASS : Ask her if we’re going to watch Megan Fox movies after.

DUKE : Angelina Jolie…

        Megan fox…

        Can I PLEASE join 🙏🏾 🙏🏾 🙏🏾 

DAMIAN : I’m not a walkie-talkie.

           Text her yourself.

DUKE : Fine

         I don’t have her number

CASS : …

DAMIAN : I was talking to Cass

STEPH : Uhm….

              What about me?!?!?!

GRAYSON: Steph plz

                   Damian has been ignoring me this entire time

                  😢.

                  Can we meet her????

DAMIAN : No.

CASS: Y/N says she would love to meet you but only if “Dami” is comfortable with it

GRAYSON : SHE GETS TO GIVE YOU A NICKNAME BUT NOT ME

                     Everytime I try to give you one you reject it

DRAKE : Dami?

               Who’s Dami

TODD : Damian

             Duhhh

DRAKE : I'm running of 2 hours of sleep and 8 cups of coffee

              🖕🏾.

TODD : 😂

Suddenly everyone got an incoming call

--Incoming Facetime Call: Damian--

Once everyone joined the group facetime they all noticed a girl sitting next to Damian

They couldn’t lie

You were gorgeous 

You looked like the girl that wasn’t overly popular but everyone liked

Basically a Disney princess

But you didn’t look like Damian’s usual type

Raven or his past fling, Flatline

You were probably the reason he slowly started incorporating color in his wardrobe 

I mean it was just dark colors but it was colors nonetheless

You finally spoke up and the conversation rolled on from there

Y/N : Hi everyone! I’m Y/N! 

         It's so nice to meet the rest of you.

Grayson : Hi! Im Dick. Damian’s handsome oldest brother.

TODD : I’m Jason Todd. The cooler, even more handsome big bro.

DRAKE : Uh hi. Tim.

Everyone else started to introduce themselves 

DAMIAN: Hurry up and ask what you need, we’re extremely busy. 

Y/N : Damian, be nice. Feel free to ask me anything

After a brief moment of silence they all started talking at one

“See what I mean” Damian whispered in your ear 

You rolled your eyes at him and spoke up

Y/N : One question at a time please

DRAKE : Is Damian paying you to act like his girlfriend? Did he have to bribe you?

For the next hour, you were answering questions and they were getting to know you

They like how you balanced Damian out

You chilled him out

Normally Damian would have been tearing their heads off, but you were calmed him before he could even react

They like seeing Damian happy

He was calmer at home

Even smiling

Actually it was a small lip smirk but they counted it

Damian was happy

Especially with you

They could tell by the way he would look at you when you talked

With so much love

I had this for a while but I finally posted it. When I pasted it from my google docs I was shocked cuz all the colors and formatting was basically gone and I had to redo them. Sadly they didn’t have the colors i wanted so Cass Duke and Tim are normal but I might give Tim orange or something 🤷🏾‍♀️

[penkura]

Our Angel

Summary: Sanji can't believe how lucky he is to have you and this little baby you brought into the world.

Warning: Mentions of giving birth, pregnancy discussion, loving husband Sanji :3

Note: Ahh the final one-shot I have done from the 'knowing' universe! :') I wrote this after the last one, and it's long but also one of my favorites. I love writing Sanji, please let me write more for him.

How much longer? How much longer??

Sanji's anxiety was through the roof as he paced back and forth in front of the infirmary door. You were finally in labor and Chopper and Robin had kicked him out of the room, thinking he was making you more stressed than your contractions were. He could hear them guiding you through the next contraction and telling you to start pushing, and he really, really wanted a cigarette for the first time in months.

He desperately wanted to be in there with you, but didn't want you more stressed than you already were. Sanji believed it couldn't be too much longer, but also wasn't entirely sure. Labor could last hours or even multiple days, yours was progressing quickly though, and it wouldn't be long before you met your baby face to face. Sanji leaned against the door, holding his breath without realizing it, just waiting and listening.

And a few moments later, he finally released his breath when he heard a baby's cries, standing up straight and facing the door, his anxiety finally being taken off his shoulders. He could hear Robin and Chopper congratulating you and telling you that you did amazingly, but he couldn't hear if they said whether you had a boy or girl, or how the baby was doing. The cries though told him that your newborn was doing just well, they were very upset to be in the world now, but it would be all right over time.

After several more minutes of waiting and his anxiety picking up again, Sanji was beyond glad to see the infirmary door open and Robin giving him a smile.

"You can come back in now."

He didn't need to be told twice, quickly entering the room and hurrying to your side, making you laugh when he got to you, dropping to his knees beside your bed and taking your hand before hugging you as close as possible.

"Sanji~"

"I'm so glad you're okay! Both of you!"

Sanji started kissing you all over your face, making you laugh lightly until you both heard a small cry, which made him freeze a bit before looking at your little baby resting comfortably on your chest. Seeing the tears start to well up in his eyes made you smile softly before you looked back at your newborn child.

"What do you think?"

"They're…perfect."

"Isn't she?"

"She?!"

Laughing again you nodded. Through the later months of your pregnancy, Sanji made it clear how badly he wanted and hoped you were having a girl. When your baby first kicked, there was so much excitement between the two of you that he inadvertently called them she, surprising you until you questioned him about it.

"She?"

"...I said they."

"No, Sanji, you said she." You giggled a bit seeing how embarrassed he was at letting his wish for a daughter out like that. "You think we're having a girl?"

"I…hope we are."

You definitely had realized, even before then, that Sanji would be a great girl dad, and now he could prove that to you with your newborn daughter. Just the fact he seemed hesitant to even touch her tiny hand for a second told you he was going to be the most protective dad you'd ever met.

"She looks exactly like you, Sanji."

"She…she really does." Sanji finally reached out and barely brushed your daughter's cheek with his knuckle, which made her move just a bit. She looked like she was his clone almost. The same blonde hair, same curled eyebrows. She basically got nothing from you and everything from your husband, but you didn't really mind it. You might get lucky and she'd get your eye color, but even then it would be all right if not.

She was still your perfect little daughter.

"Can I," Sanji pulled you from your thoughts, nervously biting his lip a bit while looking from your daughter to you, "can I hold her…?"

"Of course!"

Nerves started bubbling up, but Sanji let you show him the best way to hold your daughter. He held her close, keeping one of his hands under her head to give her more support, while she started to whine when she was moved from you to him. You weren't at all surprised when Sanji started to gently hush her, kissing her forehead and softly telling her that she was all right.

"Yeah, it's ok, sweetheart. Daddy's got you, angel."

Your daughter calmed down almost immediately, opening her eyes to try and focus on Sanji, and it nearly took his breath away to see her looking up at him. This was what you two had waited the last nine months for. To finally see and meet your daughter face to face, and here she was! A precious, beautiful little angel that fit perfectly in his arms and looked at him like he was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen (which, granted, she'd really only seen you and Sanji, but it still meant everything to him). You just watched as Sanji stared at her and she stared back at him, before she yawned and snuggled herself more comfortably in his arms, you noticing how his bottom lip was trembling while he watched her fall asleep, kissing her forehead again and whispering how much he loved your sweet little girl.

"[Y/N]...thank you so much for her."

Hearing how strained Sanji's voice was made you smile softly, knowing he was fighting to not start crying. Not right now, he didn't want to wake your daughter or cause her any distress.

"What do you think we should name her?"

"I…I'm not sure, love."

"Well, I have an idea."

+!+

When you had gone into labor, the rest of your crewmates were off the ship. You'd docked at an island the day before and they'd all gone to explore a bit, pick up a few things, and let the log pose reset. You had hoped to go later in the day but obviously things had changed and you wouldn't be joining anyone on this island this time. Robin and Chopper had stayed behind just in case, since you were near your due date anyway and it was a good thing they did.

Once Luffy and the others got back, they were surprised Robin was the only one on the deck of the Sunny waiting for them. Luffy of course was the one to ask, running up to Robin and asking if you were sleeping or something. You'd normally be on the deck waiting for everyone, so it was weird they didn't see you this time.

Robin smiled a bit, "Well I assume she is by now. She gave birth to a beautiful baby girl while you all were gone."

Everyone was completely silent, expecting Robin to say she was just kidding to get a rise out of them.

"I'm not joking by the way."

With that statement there were shouts from Usopp, Luffy, and Nami, the latter of the three running for the infirmary right away saying she needed to see her niece. Not even having seen your daughter yet but being happy for you, Franky and Brook were in tears, while Zoro smiled a bit and Jimbei gave a smile and a nod.

"Sounds like the crew has expanded by one then."

Luffy and Usopp were quick to follow after Nami, nearly breaking down the infirmary door asking to see your daughter.

You were actually wide awake, holding your daughter and showing her off to Nami who was cooing softly towards her.

"What a little cutie, yes you are! Aunt Nami is going to buy you lots of cute dresses!"

You laughed a bit while your daughter stared up at Nami, seeming to be completely amazed by her. "You wanna hold her?"

Nami was about to respond when Luffy pushed past her, getting up close to see your daughter. "She's so small!"

"Luffy!" Sanji grabbed your captain by the back of his shirt and started pulling him away. "Get out of her face! You're going to scare her and make her cry!"

"No I'm not!"

"Hey guys."

"Yes you are!" Honestly Sanji trusted Luffy a lot, but he needed to learn boundaries, especially with a newborn baby.

"Nuh-uh! She's gonna think I'm funny!"

"Boys."

"And if she doesn't?!"

"Then…then…I don't know?"

"Idiots!" Nami was close to bashing both their heads in, but her outburst got their attention. "You're both about to make her cry!"

Sanji looked over and saw you gently hushing your daughter who was starting to whine and whimper like she was about to cry, him rushing over by your side to help with quiet, sweet words that he was sorry and didn't mean to be loud.

"My apologies, Angel. I didn't mean to startle you."

Once she calmed back down, you let Usopp and Luffy come over and see her, both of them looking amazed by how small she was. Luffy kept begging to hold her, Nami telling him she had first dibs, and Usopp asking how you both were. Your other crewmates joined you all after a bit, Brook offering to start playing a lullaby to keep your baby girl calm while Franky was crying about how super it was to meet her finally. Robin returned to make sure you weren't getting overwhelmed, and Chopper wanted to do another check on your daughter to be certain she was doing all right. Jimbei gave you his congratulations and said you'd had a beautiful baby, while Zoro mostly stayed to the side, but he did smile just a bit, glad for you to have safely delivered your baby.

You were doing well with everyone there, answering questions and letting each of your crewmates see your daughter up close, they all took turns briefly holding her since they knew that, obviously, they'd have plenty of chances to do so in the future. Once Nami got a hold of her a second time, she refused to let her go to anyone that wasn't you or Sanji. She was going to absolutely spoil your daughter and everyone could see that.

"Hey hey," Luffy latched onto your arm, giving you a big grin, "what'd you guys name her??"

The small bits of chatter quieted hearing Luffy's question, most of your friends looking at you or Sanji for an answer. Nami still had your daughter in her arms, very gently bouncing the sleeping newborn.

You smiled at Sanji with a slight nod, him returning the gesture to speak up.

"We've decided to call her Angel. After calling her that while [Y/N] was pregnant, it…it felt right."

Truthfully you had offered to name her after Sanji's mother, whether you'd had a boy or girl, and he almost took you up on it, but felt that for now, he'd wanted to give your child their own, unique name. He really did greatly appreciate you wanting to honor his mother, but didn't feel ready for that yet. And like he'd said, you two had called your daughter an angel the whole time you were pregnant, actually naming her Angel felt like the right thing to do and you both thought it sounded wonderful when you decided.

"What a sweet name." Robin smiled and nodded, the rest of your crewmates agreeing with her.

After some time Chopper said you needed rest and it was close to dinner time, making Sanji nod.

"I'll go get something started for–"

"Nope!" Shaking her head, Nami handed Angel back to Sanji to stop him. "We'll take care of dinner and bring you guys some; you stay with your wife and daughter, Sanji!"

With a grin she left the infirmary and headed straight for the kitchen, everyone else following shortly after her, once they'd given you another congratulations and said goodnight to their niece. Seeing the shocked look on Sanji’s face made you laugh once everyone else had left.

“...did I just get banned from my own kitchen?”

+!+

The rest of the evening went by smoothly and quietly for your little family. Nami had sent Zoro to bring you and Sanji dinner once it was done, and you were grateful for having so many people to take care of your family while you recovered. Chopper came in a few times to check up on you and Angel, making sure both of you were doing well before he headed off to bed, telling Sanji to come get him if anything happened. After you had dinner and nursed Angel again, you went and took a quick shower, leaving Sanji with your daughter which made him terribly nervous even though he knew it was only going to take you a few minutes to shower. All he did the whole time you were gone was watch her sleep. You'd given her a pacifier to hopefully keep her calm and sleeping, and it did work. Sanji was just so enthralled with her, gently hushing her and stroking her chubby cheek whenever she started to fuss a little.

"Hey it's alright, don't cry. Mommy will be back soon, daddy's got you for now."

When you did get back, you held back a laugh seeing Sanji was nearly asleep while holding Angel. Quietly, you went over and took her from him, waking your sleepy husband and telling him it was just you, you were going to get Angel to bed so you both could sleep. While Sanji followed your lead and went to take a shower himself, you got Angel ready for bed and comfortable in a bassinet near you, she was sleeping soundly and you knew she'd wake at some point in the night, but until then, you'd watch her sleep and hold her little hand, making sure she knew you weren't going anywhere.

"I love you so much, Angel," leaning over, you placed a soft kiss on her forehead, "I'm so glad you're ours."

Once he came back from his own shower, Sanji wasn't even the slightest bit surprised to find you already asleep, still holding your daughter's hand. You'd had quite a day, having pushed a whole new person out into the world, nursing her multiple times, and having to deal with your anxious crewmates for several hours after they got back. It was a wonder you'd stayed awake as long as you had! Sanji knew he was staying with you in the infirmary as long as Chopper made you and Angel stay there, so he did the same as you and kissed your daughter's forehead, before slipping into your bed beside you, bringing you close to him and kissing your cheek once he did.

"I'm so proud of you, [Y/N]. You've been amazing today."

You shifted a bit, making Sanji smile when you told him you loved him before falling back fast asleep.

"I love you too…both of you."

+!+

Your sweet little Angel had grown so much in the last three years. She had ended up with your eye color, which made you beyond happy that she'd gotten something from you. She'd learned to walk, talk, and had the brightest smile and giggles on the Sunny, apart from Luffy that is. She really was an angel to everyone, but especially you and Sanji.

Her first steps weren't really because of you or Sanji, it was Luffy and Usopp trying to get her to start taking a few on her own. She'd been able to walk a slight bit at the time with someone holding her hands, but not on her own yet. You absolutely trusted Usopp and Luffy with her (despite how many times Luffy tossed her into the air and caught her, the fear you felt the first time made you consider leaving), they were helping Angel learn to walk under your watch, you were sitting nearby on a lounger with Sanji, who was slightly nervous watching them. Honestly Sanji was the more nervous parent at times, but you knew he just wanted Angel to be as safe as possible while you all traveled the seas.

"Come onnnnn, you can do it, Angel!" Luffy grinned at her with his arms wide open, while Usopp had a hold of her hands, keeping her standing up. Angel frowned a bit, tears welling up in her eyes when she tried to reach for Luffy but couldn't grab him. He was only a few feet away, he'd easily be able to hurry over and lift her up, but your captain also really wanted to see her take her steps on her own.

"You wanna try, Angel?" Usopp smiled and let go of one of her hands to ruffle her hair a bit, which made her whine slightly. Luffy took two very small steps forward, arms still wide open and grinning.

"You can do it!"

Angel kept reaching her free hand towards Luffy, before she looked at her feet and took a step, looking back at him while she started to walk on her own once Usopp let go of her hand.

Watching your then nine-month-old daughter take her first solo steps caused you to tear up while Sanji was beaming with pride. Angel made it over to Luffy on her own, and once she did, he scooped her up in his arms with loud laughter.

"Yahoo, you did it, Angel!!"

"Good job! Next you'll be running around the ship!"

Angel giggled loudly while Luffy tossed her gently into the air. After the one time he threw her too high up causing you and Sanji to threaten him he'd been more careful, especially seeing how much she enjoyed being tossed up and caught. After that, she started following you and Sanji like a duckling, eventually getting to where she was running around the Sunny, either chasing someone or being chased with loud laughter.

When she said her first word, you weren't even on the ship. You had gone into town with Franky and Jimbei when you landed on an island, checking the place out to see what stores they had and how long it would take the log pose to reset. You'd left Angel on the ship with Sanji, and while he was grateful for the time with your daughter, he was also trying to figure out what groceries he needed to go shopping for the next day. Nami offered to entertain Angel while he checked the pantry and fridge, taking her out to the deck for some sun and to play with her.

"You are just so cuuuuuute! You got your daddy's hair and eyebrows but your mommy's face!"

Angel smiled and giggled a bit at Nami, covering her mouth with her little hands. At this point she was already 18-months-old, but hadn't said her first word just yet. You weren't very concerned, knowing it would happen when it happened, but every evening when the three of you went to your room, Sanji would sit with Angel on your bed and try to get her to say something more than her toddler babbling.

"Come on, sweetheart. Can you say dada?"

Angel babbled, no discernable words coming from her mouth while she smiled and reached at Sanji.

"Then…mama?"

"Mmmm….mmmm…." She pressed her lips together before sticking her tongue out.

You laughed, shaking your head. "I don't think she's ready yet, Sanji."

Nami had given Angel a coloring book and some crayons to entertain herself, especially once she started talking with Zoro about the money he owed her.

"I'm just saying, if you leave me with a little of your allowance every time we dock, you'll be paid off in no time!"

"How much is a little?"

"Mmm," Nami thought for a second, patting Angel on the head when she smiled at her, "about 300 berries."

"That's a tenth of what you give me!"

"Yeah, and?"

Zoro's eye twitched slightly, obviously annoyed by this. It wasn't his fault all the stuff he normally bought was expensive, or that he spent a decent bit of it on booze!

The two argued a bit more while Angel watched them, giggling a bit when Zoro lifted her up.

"Wait, where are you taking her?!"

"Nap time. Right, tiny cook?"

"Nap!"

Nami and Zoro both stared at Angel in surprise, your daughter yawning a little and sticking her thumb in her mouth.

"Did she just…?"

"She did! Sanji!!"

Hearing Nami yell for him, Sanji dropped what he was doing and ran out to the deck instantly. "What's wrong?!"

"Listen, listen!!" Nami turned back to Angel and Zoro, telling him to say what he did before.

"Hey, it's nap time, right?"

Angel nodded. "Nap!"

Hearing her say an actual word, not toddler babbling, made Sanji's jaw drop and he started to tear up a bit. "Y-Yeah! It's nap time, Angel!"

Honestly it was an odd first word, but when you heard her say it, it made you smile and hug her close, kissing her chubby cheeks and telling her how proud you were. After that, the words came more easily and she quickly realized she knew who mama and dada were, and started calling you and Sanji whenever she needed you. She eventually had nicknames for everyone so she could call them easily, and your crewmates accepted them instantly.

As she got older, turning three more recently, you'd become even more amazed with your daughter and how she was becoming her own person. She was a giggly mess most days, loved fruit over every other food, and took naps almost as often as Zoro. They had become napping buddies much to Sanji's chagrin, but he eventually accepted since Zoro would bring Angel to one of you once she was awake.

Nami made good on her promise to buy Angel lots of cute dresses, your daughter's wardrobe was better than yours. Robin would sit and read with her until she fell asleep most nap times, if Zoro wasn't around at the moment. Usopp and Luffy would play games like tag or hide and seek with her, one of them always having Angel on their shoulders in a team up against the other. Chopper would join them most of the time, or he and Angel would play on the swing or in the kiddy pool together. Franky made Angel new toys constantly, only with your approval did he give them to her. Brook would play whatever song or lullaby Angel wanted to hear, or do his infamous 45 Degrees to make her burst out laughing. Jimbei would tell her (along with Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper) various stories he had from before he joined you all, and she loved every one of them.

Despite your love for your crewmates, you had more enjoyed introducing Angel to the Baratie crew over everyone else. After your pregnancy was confirmed, Sanji had given them a call, speaking to Zeff before anyone else and letting him know he was going to, basically, be a grandfather. It became so quiet that you and Sanji both wondered if the connection got severed, before hearing Patty yell asking why Zeff was crying over the transponder snail receiver. It made Sanji tear up worse than when you told him you were definitely pregnant, and he had to give you the receiver to tell the rest of the Baratie crew. When they all heard, they cheered and gave congratulations to you and Sanji, a few of them saying you absolutely had to stop by once the baby had been born. Once Angel was born, you sent over all the pictures you took of her so everyone at Baratie could see her as she grew up. Eventually your ship made it back to the East Blue and the Baratie, around the time of Angel's second birthday, which Zeff demanded you to celebrate there once you arrived. You dressed her in a cute little, frilly pink dress that Nami had gotten her, and knew Sanji was anxious for everyone to meet the both of you properly. Of course, you'd been with the Straw Hats already when you'd been by and recruited Sanji, but things had moved so fast back then that formal introductions were an afterthought. Now that Sanji was back with you as his wife and with his little daughter, it was definitely nerve-wracking for him.

Well, it was until the three of you stepped inside and all the chefs quickly rushed to see Angel, all of them fawning over and doting on her. Almost all his nerves went away as Patty, Carne, and the others tearfully loved on your daughter and introduced themselves to both of you properly. Angel became shy with so many new faces, reaching for Sanji to take her from you which he did, and she hid her face in his shoulder.

"Aww come on little one, what's wrong?"

"She's just overwhelmed. It's too many people at once."

Hearing that, most of the Baratie chefs dissipated in order to let Angel relax again, the only one coming up to the three of you was Zeff himself, bringing back Sanji's nerves.

"Well, the baby eggplant has his own baby eggplant now."

"Watch your mouth with my daughter, crap geezer." The smiles on both their faces told you all was well, this was the norm between Sanji and Chef Zeff. Sanji got Angel's attention to get her to lift her face from his shoulder, pointing her view to Zeff. "This is your grandad, Angel."

Angel blinked a little, not the slightest bit scared and reached for Zeff, knowing it was safe because Sanji said so. Once Zeff had a hold of her, Angel just smiled and giggled, giving him a loose hug. It made him turn away from both of you, confusing you the most, until you heard Carne shout that Zeff was crying again and got to be the first to hold Angel. You laughed when you noticed Sanji had turned away as well, fighting his own tears. The rest of your visit was less tearful, filled more with laughter while everyone entertained Angel and you told all the stories you had of her up until then. You did also learn that Zeff kept every picture you sent of her in his room, a fact that made Sanji happier than you could have imagined.

After your visit back to Baratie, you kept in touch by sending more pictures, even a few letters telling stories of what Angel was learning and how well she was growing.

The last three years had changed so much, you and Sanji couldn't imagine life without your little angel.

"[Y/N], mon amour! Angel, my dearest!!"

"Daddy!!" Angel's bright [e/c] eyes lit up, squealing when Sanji came over to the both of you, providing you with a drink and snack, and Angel with her favorite snack of apple juice and carrots.

"I've got your drinks and snacks for the day!" He gave you both the most loving smile, making you return it and Angel giggled.

"Say thank you daddy!"

"Thank youuu!"

Clutching his heart, Sanji still couldn't believe his luck, even after all this time. Seven years married to you, three years of life as a father. The amount of love he had for you two made it feel like his heart was going to burst out of his chest most days.

"Oh, my beautiful girls!! What gods did I please to deserve you?! I love you both so much!!"

You laughed a bit, taking a sip of your fruity water and rubbing your slightly swollen stomach. "What're you gonna do if this one's a boy?"

"Oh, that's easy," Sanji gave you a loving smile while he picked Angel up as she requested, "I'll love him as much as I love you both."

"Have you thought about what I said? For a name?"

Nodding, Sanji sat beside you on the lounger with Angel still in his arms, her grabbing her sippy cup and a baby carrot.

"I have, and I think…I'll take you up on it this time."

Smiling, you gave a slight nod, before kissing his cheek with a hand still on your stomach.

"Sora it is then."

A few months later, you ended up having a little boy with your hair and Sanji's eyes, and Angel was absolutely in love with her baby brother once Sanji introduced him to her. Your crewmates once again were beyond happy for you, and you just couldn't imagine your life turning out any other way.