#this is my character Cradle and I love she

[vamptizm]

PRETTY LIKE A PRINCESS — p. bueckers

pairing : paige bueckers x fem!reader

synopsis : you’re having a bad day and paige asks to do your makeup for you

warnings : none

word count : 600 (very short sorry)

note : are u guys okay with the small writing size or should i change it to the regular one so that everyone can read it easily?

“Let me do your makeup.” You heard from her familiar voice from where u sat cross-legged on the floor, facing the large mirror that you had been too lazy to hang up yet.

You didn’t have to be anywhere. Quite the opposite. It was a stay at home day but you couldn’t help but want to do something nice for yourself. Doing your makeup wasn’t something solely reserved for outings, it was a form of expression and art to you— something that never failed to cheer you up when having a bad day. And that’s exactly what today was. A bad day.

It had started with you not getting enough sleep on your only day off of the week, while Paige peaceful slept beside you like a baby, the soft snores and her even breathing pattern almost taunting you as you rolled over for the umpteenth time.

Then it continued with your comfort character dying in—according to you— the most unnecessary way possible. It didn’t take much for your mood to sink, the slightest inconvenience was usually enough.

“You wanna do my makeup?” You repeated with a raised brow, almost as if unsure whether you had heard her right or not.

“Well, that’s what I just said, isn’t it?” The blonde grinned from her spot, back leaned against your bed frame and her arms behind her head, unintentionally flexing those arm muscles that pushed you closer to the edge of insanity daily.

You could perfectly see her from the reflection in the mirror, but still you craned your neck to shoot her a look. “Don’t get smart with me, Goldilocks. I’m not the one today.”

That had managed to emit a full chuckle from your girlfriend, arms falling back to her sides as she straightened up. “C’mon, baby, please. You don’t trust me?”

“Now you’re just making me sound bad.” You rolled your eyes with sigh, though not truly annoyed. If anything, the thought of it made you feel somewhat giddy. But you wouldn’t admit that. “Okay… fine.”

And that’s how you ended up sitting on the bed, cross-legged once again as you faced Paige. She started out by finishing the base that you had started, but before you knew it, you already felt her hands snaking around your hips, swiftly pulling you into her lap.

“Much better, baby.” She mumbled, a faint smirk on her face as she adjusted you on top of her.

All you could do was look down at the girl, silently watching as her warm hands left and found your face repeatedly. occasionally cradling it for longer than needed, gently tilting it to the side as if you’d break any moment. All that and more, had you fighting for dear life to bite back a smile.

“All done, baby.” Paige spoke again, finally breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you, her eyes gleaming in adoration and awe. Her hands instinctively found their way to your waist, holding you almost as if to steady you. “Pretty like a princess.”

Your heart warmed at her words, a rosy hue creeping onto your cheeks and you couldn’t help but eventually crack a smile at the girl. The affect she had on you, was anything short of healing and comforting. You tilted your head forward slightly, hands snaking up to delicately cup her face before you placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips as she looked up at you.

A bright smile formed on her face, lighting her entire face up and you could’ve sworn that right then and there, you fell in love with Paige all over again, as if it had been the first time.

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Featuring Astrid and/or Eadwulf

Sometimes, meeting someone's ex can tell you a lot about a person. I imagine that's especially true if they were in a traumatized teenage assassin polycule together. This week, we've got seven fics that feature Astrid and/or Eadwulf - and as always, don't forget to comment or kudos if you like them!

All this, heaven could never describe by Kaeda (112238, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Temporary character death

AU in the Tusk Love universe where Bren never killed his parents, has a THING going with Essek, and is told by an alternate self to form the Mighty Nein.

Reccer says: Delicious intimate moments between Caleb and Essek. I also love how developed Eadwulf is!

Please keep lying to me by idontreallylikebutterflies (3076, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and Essek are spies, and should not be hooking up. They are however hooking up. Caleb is not as subtle as he should be, his friends suspect.

Reccer says: Is there anything better than finding eachother in impossible or just very stupid circumstances and having good redemptions and amazing relationships? Bonus because this is part of a series.

Another Time, Another Place by Operafloozy (9780, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

A time travelling assassin epistolary AU where Bren and Essek are rival time travelling assassins.

Reccer says: I like the twist at the end with Astrid and Eadwulf

Neighborhood Watch by Timbrene (2800, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

These are the facts. Essek Thelyss is a traitor to the Dynasty. He has collaborated with the Cerberus Assembly on dunamantic research. His loyalties are an entirely unknown quantity, and likely nonexistent. He is, above all else, a liar. Also, he all but lives in the neighborhood now, and it’s very uncomfortable.

Reccer says: I love this Astrid POV of Essek (and Caleb), and what it says about all three of them

cradled in fault lines by Anonymous (1732, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Astrid has learned to live with one eye by now. It’s manageable, most days. Until one evening, when the wine she’s pouring for Caleb sloshes out onto the table and directly into his lap.

Reccer says: Excellent characterization! I remember who wrote it before they anonymized it, and they are one of my favorite authors of all time. It’s incredible

one small step by 100batmans (2919, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb being super into watching Essek & Eadwulf together.

Reccer says: Hot and sweet!

Whistle song by Chekov (115412, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and Essek have settled down, living a peaceful life in Rexxentrum, that is, until someone tries to assassinate them. It goes as well as one can expect, it goes actually a lot better than they expected.

Reccer says: It has been so long since I read this, but the cast is great and the relationships are well written as well. And I always love a complicated but trying so hard Blumendrei friendship.

and then, for this last one, we have two recs!

do you have enough love in your heart, to go and get your hands dirty? by SaltCore (4355, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Caleb is rescued from a dire situation. And Astrid is carefully observing the Shadowhand's moments

Reccer 1 says: I'm a fan of the whumpy hurt/comfort tenderness that happens in the fic. I also found it a bold and effective choice to be in Astrid's POV and written in 2nd Person Reccer 2 says: Mutual distrust layered inextricably with affection and so much history. (The housecat conversation is particularly delicious.)

This is one of our weekly communally-generated shadowgast rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. 

And hey, anyone includes you, if you're so inclined!

Next week's theme is supernatural creatures! Vampires, Werewolves, Fey Creatures, and the like Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

[mightysen]

♋️ ┇ I heard crab was in season now! 🦀

[whoatemyshoe]

[stafsar]

L. Lawliet is a gifted photographer who believes he has understood the light and its secrets. Light Yagami is a young, unstable and slightly crooked model. Together, they kill time.

I had a bookcover design assignment so obviously I chose @devilinthebox's literary masterpiece of a fanfic Our Bodies, Possessed by Light

[balladofmoony]

a little collage for dstg lily of @mayescapade because honestly lily evans and the phoenix are all i think about these days.

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

Mel for the unhinged character bingo!

yessss YEEEESSSSSSSSS

[hordemama]

YOU GET MORE MORK ART. context is for fools. all you need know is i forgot about this brush until now

[imadhatt3r]

I can't stop thinking about Koujaku's name and sparrow motif...

So his name means "red sparrow"; And I'd imagine that he was most likely named by his mother. I don't think his father had much of a presence in his early life, and besides, I feel like a violent yakuza leader would want his son to have a more "powerful" sounding name. So it was probably his mom's choice.

I feel like she must've loved sparrows if she named her son after them. I can see her going out to parks and gardens just to see them, and taking older Koujaku with her to feed them too. They were always so cute and cheerful, so they always managed to lift her spirits whenever she was worried about her pregnancy, her partner, or future in general, so she decided to name her son after them, because she wanted him to lead life with the same qualities she saw in these birds: She wanted him to be joyful, resiliant, adaptable, and always surrounded by loving and like-minded people (since sparrows live in large groups). He was her little birdie since birth... 😭

I think that Koujaku grew fond of sparrows too, through seeing how much his mother loved them. Maybe that's why he wears a kimono with sparrows and picked Beni (a sparrow) as his AllMate. I can see him putting out a small bowl with grains on his windowstill to get some sparrows to come, like he used to do with his mom when they went to feed them, but with mixed results (sometimes they come and sometimes they don't).

Aoba picks up on it too; Whenever he's out doing deliveries and he spots a flock of sparrows foraging in a patch of grass or drinking and bathing out of a puddle, he takes a photo on his coil and sends it over to Koujaku, usually with some silly caption he comes up with on the spot. He absent-mindedly picks up any sparrow-themed knicknacks to give to Koujaku, all of which are deeply treasured and loved- if they're something like post-it notes, there's a guarantee that they'll never be used, and they will be lovingly stored in a drawer untill the end of times. Aoba actually bought an extra set of post-it notes and a pen with a sparrow-themed topper to keep at his desk at Hum-Drum.

This is more of a sidenote, but I always imagined Koujaku's mother as a rather short and frail woman, probably a bit shorter than Aoba, so the height difference between them now would be really big. I guess I was just touched by the image of Koujaku's mom cradling his head in her hands to have him look at her as she wipes away his tears with her thumbs... Her birdie's all grown up, but he'll always remain her little sparrow...

[life-is-curious]

This isn't Bg3 related unfortunately, but this is a painting I did of the birth of my main persona c: their name is Curiosity and their mother is a god of creation

[sarascamander]

Me, finding a book to read: This better have romance in it. I am NOT reading it if it doesn't have romance

Me, upon reading: What the hell is this romance? You're distracting the plot and it is unnecessary, GET OUT OF MY BOOK

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

ANTHROPOLOGY MENTIONED

Moral, Immoral and Amoral

[take-it-on-the-run]

Not A Lot, Just Forever

Dean Winchester x Pregnant!Reader

After throwing up morning after morning, the reader discovers her illness isn't what she initially thought.

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: Pregnancy, unexpected pregnancy, brief description of motel bathrooms, vomiting (repeated), self-blame, mention of reader's mother dying in childbirth, mention of childbirth related deaths, anxiety, brief loss of consciousness, Dean is a sweetheart and will make a great father.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Pregnant!Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel

@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! I'm not sure if I already sent you this request, or if I sent it to someone else (oops🤭) but could I request a Sam Winchester and/or Dean Winchester x reader (your choice which one of them, if not both sepperately) where he helps reader deal with morning sickness, though he only finds out she's pregnant on the third day in a row that he's with her while she throws up. Ty!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Adrianne Lenker title. I really really loved this request! I feel like writing the pregnancy trope is a sort of hard task to do, so I hope I brought it justice. I love love loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you for the request @ghostlyaccurate, and I promise I'm trying my damnedest to work through my inbox <3. Every mistake here is completely and 100% my own and of my own doing. (P.S. can you guess how hard it was to find "aesthetic" pictures of a bathroom and pregnancy tests for the pictures for this fic?? I think the ones I found actually work pretty well! Another thing, what happened to the yellow text color? I use it to tag fluff fics, and it's gone :( ).

Dean Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Your head hung over the foul toilet bowl of whatever motel you, Dean, and Sam were holed up in, and a rancid smell invaded your nose. In earnest, you didn’t have the slightest idea where you were. The past couple of hours had been filled with a slight fever and the constant need to use Dean as a pillow. Halfway through the drive between towns, you convinced him to switch out driving with Sam so he could join you in the back seat.

The worn tile of the bathroom floor offered you minimal comfort, and the fact you’re supposed to be up for a case in two hours made your stomach churn over again. Ditching your normal avoidance of motel bathrooms, you gripped the edge of the toilet and emptied your stomach again.

“Y/N?” Dean’s groggy voice called out from behind the door, “Are you okay in there sweetheart?”

You squeezed your eyes together, cursing yourself for being loud enough to wake him up. Sneaking out from his arms was a feat enough already, trying to suppress the sound of you losing your guts at four in the morning wasn’t going to happen; even in a perfect world.

“No,” you groaned as he softly opened the door, “I feel like shit De, and you know how much I hate throwing up. And how much I hate motel bathrooms.” You whined. Your hair was falling to the front of your face and you were cursing whoever decided a bathroom didn’t need a working air vent.

Dean hummed softly, pulling the hair back from your face and holding it with one hand as he sat behind you on the floor. He pressed his lips to the back of your head softly, and gently traced shapes on your collarbone as you laid back on him.

“Just breathe, I’ve got you if you need to go at it again.” He said softly, cradling you in his lap as you tried to breathe. He ran his hand through your hair as your breathing started to hiccup less, and eventually, he sat you on the closed toilet lid to get you water.

You felt ashamed to be keeping him up at this hour. Your phone clock read 5:13 AM, almost an hour past when you’d originally gotten up. He already doesn’t get enough sleep as is, and here you are sitting, waiting for him to get back like you aren’t able to take care of yourself.

“Here you go, drink slowly. Did you use the mouthwash I gave you?” He asked as he handed you his water bottle. He stood across from you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants. You nodded softly, gratefully gulping down the contents of the bottle.

The bags under his eyes were already enough to make you feel guilty. Hunters were used to running on minimal sleep, but with you around, he’d just gotten into the six-hour range. He rubbed his face, inhaling like he normally did when he was trying to make a decision. You didn’t want to go out for the case. You barely wanted to move your body to get back in bed and salvage what little sleep you could before life kicked you back into gear.

“Do you want to stay here while Sam and I talk to the family?” Dean asked as if he could read your mind.

I love you so damn much. You thought, bowing your head with a sigh of relief. You didn’t want to be the one to bring up staying in; neither of you ever wanted to admit you needed breaks, but if the other one was to bring it up, it made the process easier.

You nodded, pushing yourself to your feet as he opened the door for the two of you, “yeah, I think that’s best for all of us. Don’t need me puking in the victim’s bathroom as you guys ask your questions.” You tried to joke as you and Dean crawled back into bed, tucking yourself into his arms, and splaying your legs haphazardly on top of his.

The next morning wasn’t any better.

Sam and Dean had come home late from questioning the family, and you were barely aware of them unloading the Chinese food they brought for you. Dean sat with you against his chest, still half-dressed as an FBI agent, as you wolfed down the egg rolls he got. You found yourself starving when they offered you food, but now you regretted eating anything at all.

You found yourself hung over the toilet again, but thankfully only had to put up with one round of saying goodbye to your lunch. You were able to get yourself up and over to the sink, where you repeated Dean’s routine from the morning before.

You leaned against the counter in the small kitchen, Dean’s water bottle filled with tap water in your hand. You turned to dump the rest in the sink when the creak of a floorboard behind you had you spinning on your heel in record time.

“Jesus Christ, Dean. Why are you up?” You asked in a hushed tone, placing your hand over your racing chest.

“I could ask you the same thing,” He crossed the small room and came over to embrace you in his arms, “did you get sick again?” He asked innocently, but the combination of those words, and the pitiful shift of his eyes was enough to make you feel like a child. You were a grown woman, you knew damn well how to take care of yourself much before the Winchesters were in your life.

You huffed in annoyance, pulling back from Dean’s chest. You felt your face begin to heat up, and it felt like anything Dean could say had the chance to send you over the edge.

“Yes, I did. Right now, I feel like my body is too hot and too tight for my bones, and I also feel like anything you say is going to make me hit the roof. Even if it’s nice, I just don’t think my brain can take in any more words without wanting to jump ship.” You said you rubbed your temples. Things like this had happened occasionally in the past, and before Dean, you figured it was just because you were a rigid person. One night a particularly bad migraine had led to you yelling at him because he offered to get you some medicine. Instead of just leaving you to stew, like every other partner did, he simply asked you to explain what you were feeling. No judgment, no interruptions, and he’d do whatever you said would make you feel better in that moment.

Now, whenever you felt overwhelmed, he did the same. He’d swallow any sarcastic comment or solution to your problem and listen to you. No matter what was bothering you, at whatever hour of the day, he was at your side, doing what you asked of him without hesitation.

He just nodded, pressing his lips to your forehead before he led you back to the bed you two were sharing for the case. His body threw off heat like a bonfire, and your normally freezing hands were appreciative of that. In this moment, however, it felt like you were burning from the inside out.

You adjusted yourself between the sheet and the comforter, so the two of you could still touch without pressing your skin together. Dean waited for you to still before he made himself comfy, and he gently ran his fingers through the ends of your hair.

“Is this okay right now? Do you want me to leave you be?” He asked, in as soft of a voice as he could. You hummed, smiling at the tingling sensation running through you. Comfort, and a warmth that wasn’t burning to the touch, crawled up your back, and into your head. You tried to focus your eyes for a couple of seconds more, but without your control, they forcefully fluttered shut.

“Y/N.”

Sheet tangled between your limbs, and you could see the light through your closed eyes. Opening them, you find an unexpected sight. Instead of Dean, or Sam, standing at your bedside, the trench coat-clad angel you’d met five years ago stood awkwardly, waiting for you to fully wake up.

“Cas,” you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, “what are you doing here? Where’s Sam and Dean?” You asked.

Cas sighed and sat at the end of your bed. He shot you a quick look, before focusing his eyes on the blank wall in front of him. He tapped his fingers on his legs, a habit he picked up from Sam.

“Dean called me and told me you were sick. I came in, and told him I’d try and cure whatever… ailment is afflicting you.”

You smiled at the way he spoke, and the fact Dean went out of his way to try and help you out, but there was something off about Castiel’s demeanor. You sat up and touched his arm to get his attention.

“Cas, what’s wrong? Did something happen that I should know about?” You asked softly.

“I think you’re pregnant, Y/N.” He looked at you, and there was a rift of guilt lingering in his eyes.

A course of confusion and shock coursed through your body before you felt a rotting pit settle at the bottom of your stomach.

“Why would you… think that, Cas?” You felt a tightness taking over your throat, rubbing your hand across your neck to try and loosen it.

“I can sense life forms. Human ones, at least. It was hard to tell with Sam and Dean here, but once they left I was able to confirm my suspicions.”

Your hand traveled to your lower abdomen before your mouth spat out a request without thinking.

“Pregnancy tests. Can you get me some, please? I just,” you ran your hand across your forehead quickly, “I want to confirm, using non-magical means.”

Cas nodded, “of course. I’m going to assume you don’t want me to let Dean know?”

You nodded your head before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Deep down, you knew Cas was right. You were late by a few days, but you’d chalked it up to the illness that’s kept you on the bench for this case. You didn’t usually react as poorly as you’ve been to an illness, even when you’d gotten a terrible case of Pneumonia.

Getting up from the bed, you walked into the bathroom as Castiel vanished to get you a couple tests. Looking to the mirror, you’re met with a form of you that was a little scary; purple, slightly-puffy eyes, smeared makeup that hadn’t been washed off from days before, and your skin was breaking out in places it hadn’t before.

Dean hadn’t said a word about it, but even someone as blissfully ignorant as him had to have noticed the way your face wasn’t looking like your own.

Dean.

You’d have to tell Dean you were pregnant, with his child. That you’re going to be parents.

What if he didn’t want to be a father at thirty-six?

Children weren’t one hundred percent out of the question, but they were longer down the line in hunters’ lives. If you were lucky enough to get out of the life unscathed and find someone who would want to settle down with, you’d likely be creeping into your mid-forties, at best. Mary had gotten lucky with John, but now they’d both been taken away by the thing they’d spent half of their marriage avoiding.

What if you weren’t ready to be a mother at thirty-five?

For you, it wasn’t the question of wanting to have kids, but you never saw you or your boyfriend backing out from hunting anytime soon. To add on, you’d heard of many nasty births that ended in fatality for the infant or the mother, including your own. Every time you and the boys were on a case involving a child, you’d be extra reckless. Dean picked this up within the first couple of times you’d almost gotten yourself killed to save a kid, and you explained your fear to him. The fear of a mother not being able to welcome her child home in her arms, or the child not seeing his mother again, and their fate lying in your hands. You’d already ripped apart your family, and you tried your damnedest to keep as many together as possible.

A ruffle of feathers and a sharp knock on the bathroom door snapped you out of your thoughts.

“You can come in, Cas.”

Wordlessly, the angel stepped into the small motel bathroom holding a plastic bag. He pulled out three different pregnancy tests and set them on the counter.

“The woman working there said I should get a couple just in case one doesn’t work like it should.” He said as you picked up the first test. “I’m telling the truth, but I understand you wanting to confirm this to yourself.”

I know Cas, you thought, but you didn’t say a word. Instead, you stared at him, waiting for him to leave the bathroom, but he had a blank look on his face and didn’t move a muscle.

“Cas, I’m going to need you to leave the bathroom for me to do this.”

“Oh, sorry. Of course. I forgot how ‘hands-on’ human tests can be. I apologize.” He said blatantly before stepping out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

Fuck me.

That’s what got you into this in the first place, dumb ass.

After twenty disgustingly long minutes in the decrepit motel bathroom, you walked out holding four positive tests. Cas was sitting on Sam’s bed, staring out the window, but immediately stood up and crossed the room to you. You handed him the tests, and he placed them on the table between the two beds.

“How do you feel?” He asked. Another thing he picked up from his years on earth was the ability to know when to ask what questions.

You felt blank. Void of answers and solutions to the situation at hand. Whether or not to turn left, or right.

“I… don’t know what to do, Cas.” Your voice broke along with the tears you were holding back, and a sinking feeling of hopelessness began to dig its way through your head.

Neither you nor Dean are ready to be parents. What if Dean’s angry? He would never kick you out of the bunker. The bunker is the only real home any of you have had in a long time, but is it safe? Is the world safe enough to bring a baby into? A Winchester baby, who would no doubt be a target from birth. What if the baby doesn’t make it to full term? What if this baby kills you like you killed your own mother?

“Y/N,” Cas placed his hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to ask you to take a breath.” He drew his hand up and waited for you to inhale. Taking in a shuddered breath, you followed the flow of his hand, stopping your heart from running up your throat.

“Thank you.” You said, sitting down on your bed and grabbing the pregnancy tests off the nightstand. Two pluses, two double lines. You and Dean were careful and used a condom whenever you found extra time together, but somehow God decided that rubber wasn’t going to work as intended.

“I think I’m going to just lay here,” you tuck yourself under the bed sheets once more, the tests shoved into your pajama pants, “and wait for Dean and Sam to get home. I’ll get him out of this stuffy ass room and tell him in private. Sam shouldn’t have to witness if we- if we argue. I know it makes him feel awful.”

“That’s a smart plan. You need to take this one step at a time and do it carefully. I know Dean cares for you deeply, but if you need someone to support you, all you have to do is call for me.” Cas squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“Thank you, Cas.” You yawned, pulling your body further under the covers of the bed. Castiel smiled slightly, before turning away and disappearing with a familiar rush of wings flapping.

Your body was covered head to toe in sweat, and the bed sheet you wrapped around yourself was thrown onto the floor. No light entered the room, and the time on the alarm clock read 1:43. Your stomach churned in a familiar way, and as you got to your feet you finally noticed neither of the boys were in the room.

You clambered to the bathroom, phone in hand, trying to call Dean. One hand braced on the toilet, and the other tried to thumb down to his contact. There wasn’t any time to think about the fact you were carrying a baby inside of you, the baby whose father is missing in the middle of the night with no calls or messages.

They always call. You thought before you set your ringing phone on the floor to throw up for the first time that morning. The phone rang, the sound slowly driving you insane each time you redialed Dean’s number between dry heaving into the bowl.

Your hair was sticking to your forehead, poorly swept away and held back by a rubber band you found on the sink. The heat, the pain, and the fear of losing contact with the Winchester brothers combined with the reality of you being pregnant was finally built up enough to break the swarm of emotions you barely choked down when Cas was in the room earlier.

Eyes burning, you slumped against the sink cabinet and brought your phone to your ear as you called Dean once again. You let out a sob, tears rushing down your face and neck, leaving behind a slightly burning trail. Your breathing became uneven, the sound of your own heart drumming through your ears drowning out the ring of your phone. Letting your phone slip to the floor, you brought your knees to your chest and folded your arms as a nest for your forehead.

Neither of the boys called within the twenty minutes you were in the bathroom, your phone was now close to being dead, and no muscle in your body wanted to obey your brain telling them to move and do something. You weren’t a weak woman, you took the cards you were dealt and tried your best to win, but sometimes all you could do was fold.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

A hand pulled your face from your knees, and you could barely see with the light of the bathroom now on and blinding you. A warm hand rested against your cheek while another briefly touched your forehead.

“Help me get her up, Sammy,” your eyes fluttered closed and you felt two arms hook under both your arms, laying them over shoulders as your feet lightly dragged across the floor.

“I’ve never seen her this bad, Dean.” The voice you now recognized as Sam said. Your legs were swept up from under you and you were laid on the bed you’d crawled out of.

You felt the tests still pressing in your pockets, and you thanked whatever greater being was willing to listen. There was no way you wanted to Dean to discover that information on accident.

Dean.

The other voice was Dean.

You moron, who else would it be?

The bed next to you dipped down, and you felt a gentle hand tuck a few stray hairs behind one of your ears. The sweat covering you was sucking every inch of clothing to your skin, and all you wanted to do was peel either of the pair off.

“I thought Cas was going to come here and help her out,” you heard his voice straining as he spoke, and you felt your heart snap in two.

You moved your hand, as heavy as it felt, and squeezed the first part of him you touched.

“Sweetheart,” you could feel Dean’s breath as he hovered over you, “you’re scaring me here.”

“Cas…” you gave out a heavy cough, “he came. He helped me figure out what’s been happening.”

A glass of water was brought to your mouth, and you took every drop of it. After swallowing the cup, your eyes finally were able to open. You were greeted by a worried Dean hovering very close to you, and a worried Sam crossing back from the kitchen holding Dean’s water bottle.

Sam set the bottle on the bedside table and sat on his bed, facing you and Dean. Dean’s attention was solely on you. His hands grabbed both sides of your face and brought his lips to your forehead, before resting against it.

“Hey,” you said, chuckling slightly, “I didn’t mean to scare you, De. You, or Sam.” You sat yourself up in bed.

“Did Cas tell you what’s wrong?” Sam asked, looking at you expectantly.

“He did, but… is it okay if I talk to Dean? Alone?” You asked softly.

Sam shot Dean a look, which Dean promptly returned with one that had Sam standing up, and walking into the hall.

Orange rays of light shone from the window of the room, and you could just barely see the sun climbing on the horizon. Dean moved to hold you in bed while you gained the composure to tell him you were both parents.

“Dean…” you breathed steadily, trying to even your heartbeat that was ramping up once more, “I have to tell you something-”

“I kinda gathered as much sweetheart,” he said lightly, lines forming around his forest-lorn eyes beautifully.

“- it’s important. I mean, it’s going to change our lives, for the rest of our lives.”

Dean’s face became more serious, pulling you to face him as he crossed his legs.

“You know you can tell me anything, Y/N.”

Do it, now. Just say-

“I’m pregnant.”

The air hung heavy around the pair of you as you handed him the tests in your pocket, and you could see the clocks turn in Dean’s mind as he stared down at them.

“But we used a rubber?” He said, and you could guess where his thoughts were wandering.

“We did, but you’re the only person I’ve been with for years, Dean, I need you to believe me when I say that.” You said reassuringly as you could without sounding like you were lying.

His face broke into a small smile, and he brought his thumb to trace over your lower cheek, “I know, sweetheart. I trust you with my heart, I just know not to use that brand anymore, seems like their effectiveness is questionable.”

You laughed, tears drying in your eyes as you pushed at him playfully, “Dean! You gave me a heart attack, you son of a bitch!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay!” He laughed, capturing you in a giant bear hug and rolling you on top of him. You looked down at him and brought your lips down to his.

“You’re going to be a father,” you said, beaming at him while smiling the hardest you’d ever in the longest time

“You’re going to be a mother,” he replied, smiling just as hard. Your face fell slightly, and the word mother finally kicked into your head. “Hey,” Dean said as he saw your face shift, somehow remembering the story you told him all those years ago, “Remember, we’ve got an angel on speed dial, and you know how hard it is to take out a Winchester.”

Your heart warmed at the statement, the baby inside of you was just as much L/N as it was Winchester. You loved Dean with your heart, as did he love you, and now the two of you were going to brace the dangerous world you’d spent years protecting with the amalgamation of that love.

You brought Dean’s hand to your stomach as he brought his other hand to your face. His calloused fingers were gentle on your skin, and small crinkles formed around his eyes as he smiled, holding his hand at your stomach as you gazed back at him.

A knock sounded at the door, making you turn your head around before you and Dean burst into laughter, and told Sam he could come back in the room to tell him the news.

[flowerandblood]

Duty and desire (Oneshot)

[ canon • Aemond x niece • wife female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, smut, angst, praise kink activated, lactation kink, fluff ]

[ description: An incident between her husband and their sons causes her uncle to completely break down. She decides to show him how deep her feelings are towards him and to comfort him. A heartbroken, vulnerable, infatuated Aemond in need of simple tenderness. ]

Author’s note: The events of this oneshot are part of the canon of The Fall from the Heavens series and feature the same characters. I couldn't sleep and that's how I mentally coped with what I saw in the second episode of the second season. You're welcome, lol. If you still didn't watch it, wait with reading it (if you don't like any kind of spoilers). It can be read as a standalone story.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

He had returned to their chamber earlier, tense and visibly frustrated despite the fact that he usually spent that part of the day sparring with their sons, training them in the wielding of the sword.

She smiled at him from above her book, watching as he involuntarily looked into the cradle where Visenya slept peacefully.

The birth of their first daughter was joyous news for the entire kingdom, including them.

"So early?" She asked, spreading out comfortably in her chair, curious about this change of plans. Her uncle only pursed his lips at her words, walking over to the table where she sat and reached for a cup, into which he poured himself a little wine.

He remained silent.

A bad sign.

"What's happened?" She asked immediately, seeing that hundreds of thoughts were currently running through his mind, which if they did not find an outlet would eventually explode in the form of his fury.

He took a few deep sips from his goblet without looking at her, setting it down with a loud clink of steel on the table.

"Viserys and Aegon have suggested that Ser Robert should be the one to train them today. They apparently want to become archers." He said with a sneer and anger that startled her. She swallowed hard, closing the book, understanding full well that his words were only the tip of what he was really thinking about.

"In your presence they always feel they have to prove themselves. They're afraid of being ridiculed in front of you. Maybe it's…"

"At their age I dreamt of my father doing for me what I do for them. This is our time together." He growled, looking out of the corner of his eye into the area where she sat, but not directly at her, immersed in his thoughts, memories and regrets.

"I know." She whispered and her words, something about the way she said them made his lip tremble, made him lower his head in shame and cover his face with his hand, drawing in air loudly.

"They are terrified at the sight of me. Both of them. They don't love me, they just fear me. Their own father." He mouthed, his quivering voice betraying that although he tried to control himself, something about the thought had broken him.

She stood up from her seat, shaking her head, coming up to him quickly, wanting to touch his arm with her hand, but he moved away and turned his head, not wanting her to see what was happening to him.

"If you could hear with what pride and admiration they speak of you when you are not there. They so desperately want to please you." She muttered in pain, feeling a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he might have believed he was a bad father, when they both knew how hard he tried.

"To please me? My sons, they live to please me? And if they don't then what will happen to them? Hm?" He asked and fell silent, looking at her at last, his eye red with grief and despair, his face simultaneously red and pale with emotion, his lips parted in a heavy breath.

He covered his eyes with his hand as he burst into silent sobs, as if he had not stifled the thought for a day or a month, but for years, ever since their first son had been born.

She looked at him in disbelief, stunned, at the same time hurt and saddened by his words, by the thought of how he judged and perceived himself.

"Looking into my eyes do you see anything other than love?" She asked, renewing her attempt, taking a step towards him, and this time he didn't pushed her away, looking at her uncertainly.

"– it's something else –" He whispered.

"– how can it be? – do you think I would love a man who is a bad father to my children? –" She asked further, and he swallowed hard, trying to calm his breathing, his cheeks red from tears.

"– stop it –" He said and turned away, wiping his face, walking to the other side of the room, embarrassed and ashamed of his weakness.

"– sit down on the bed, husband – I want to explain a few things to you –" She finally said.

He sighed heavily and did as she asked, making room beside himself, looking down at his hands, heartbroken. She, however, walked up to him and did not sit next to him, but on his lap, surprising him by taking his warm, red face in her hands, stroking his moist skin with her thumbs.

For a moment she simply looked at him, all helpless and vulnerable, feeling the heat in her chest.

"– you're defending our family – you're the rock that protects us – you have to show strength – be determined – and that's hard when you're king and father at the same time – the burden of the crown is great and you know it – you're trying to prepare them for it –" She whispered, with each successive word placing kisses on his red face: on his forehead, his temple, his eyebrows, his eyelid, his cheekbone, his lips, his jaw.

She felt his hands involuntarily rise to her waist, stroking her through the material of her gown.

"– so why don't they understand this? – why do they push me away? –" He muttered, focusing his gaze on her full, plump lips, his manhood hidden in his breeches pulsed softly in a natural reaction to her closeness.

"– because they are still children – children who need their father to love them no matter what – a father who will sometimes let them go their own way –" She said softly, in a gentle, light motion untying the black ribbon at the back of his head, making the front strands of his silver hair fall over his shoulders.

"– I just want to spend time with them like a father with his sons – I want them to need me –" He whispered, and she nodded, letting his broad hand move her hip closer, making her body press against his.

"– I know, my husband – my sweet, sweet husband –" She whispered and heard him draw in the air loudly, surprised, his erection pulsed hard between her thighs.

She licked her lips, wondering if he was aroused by what he was hearing.

"– my husband is so good to me –" She gasped softly, letting their lips join in hot, sticky, lazy kisses, making wonderful heat surge through her body. "– my sweet friend – my sweet boy –"

She shuddered as his fingers tightened on the material of her gown, his throat leaving a sound she had never heard before.

He moaned.

Not the way he usually did, low and deep, when it was on the verge of panting, but high, the way she did when he gave her sweet pleasure.

Their fingers tightened on their bodies, letting their mouths find each other in greedy, violent, deep kisses – his cock between her thighs swelled all over and pulsed, hot, betraying that he was now completely ready to possess her.

"– I love you – please –" He muttered, forcibly ripping her gown off her shoulders, exposing her naked breasts, all swollen with milk. Something like a sigh of delight and relief left his throat as he sank his face into her sternum, his thumbs stroking and teasing her nipples hard from the cold.

She moaned as she tilted her head back, untying the material of his breeches, feeling the wonderful, pleasurable wetness between her thighs, proving that she was ready to receive him deep inside her.

"– my sweet husband deserve to be soothed – doesn't he? – to feel his beloved wife – how warm she is – how wet she is –" She whispered, cupping his swollen, quivering erection in her palm, feeling how incredibly hard it was, its tip thick and smooth, dripping with his moisture.

"– yes –" He mumbled in shame, directing one of her breasts to his face, holding it in his hand, finding her nipple with his mouth, beginning to suck it loudly along with her milk as she guided the head of his cock against her pulsing slit.

"– ah – my husband is so hard for me – makes me feel so fucking good – so, so big –" She cooed, sinking slowly onto his manhood only to lift herself on it with a loud click of her wetness, opening her thirsty, fleshy cunt again and again on his long, throbbing erection.

"– f-fuck –" He exhaled, embarrassed, imposing a fast, aggressive pace on her at once, clearly aroused by what she was saying and how she was behaving, needing her affection, her acceptance, her closeness, everything he couldn't ask of anyone else outside the door of their chamber.

"– it's all yours, my dearest – I can ride you all night – you'll fill me with your seed as many times as I need, won't you? –" She gasped, and he groaned loudly into the skin of her breasts, clamping his hot hands on her hips, pounding into her like there was no tomorrow, panting and quivering along with her.

She wasn't sure she had ever experienced a similar orgasm, so overpowering, hot, soothing, delightful.

"– f-fuck – f-fuck, Aemond, yes –" She whimpered, throwing her head back as she felt his body convulse, his warm seed filling her womb wit his low moans of pleasure.

He released her nipple from his mouth, panting heavily, snuggling his cheek into her chest, letting her arms embrace him in a tight grip, her lips placing tender, hot kisses on his hair.

"– forgive me – I'm ashamed – I –"

"– you are my husband – let me give you relief when you need it –" She whispered, combing her fingers through his long hair.

"– but – it was –"

"– a husband can show tenderness and understanding to his wife, but a wife to her husband cannot? –" She asked in pain, and he swallowed hard, letting out a loud, shuddering breath.

"– it won't happen again –" He muttered, needing, apparently, for her to tell that lie so he could stop thinking about how weak he was, how he needed it, how pleasant it was.

That he would beg in his mind for more.

More of her tenderness.

More of her praise.

More of her love.

"– as you wish –"

[lastflowerofyourhouse]

i looove cytherea as a "nicest* person here was secretly the villain the whole time" reveal cause like. my problem with those is usually that they do a complete 180 in terms of personality and suddenly they're a totally different person. they absolutely do not give a shit about these people they just spent so much time cohabitating with. they developed absolutely no empathy or compassion or remorse for the people who worked with them, trusted them, confided in them, tried to help them. it just never seemed realistic to me. i always end up wishing for more nuance. it feels like the authors tend to go for shock value over the actual substance of the character, unless they're angling for a redemption arc.

cytherea, though.

cytherea is 10,000 years old and she's been inches from death the entire time. these people's lives mean something fundamentally different to her than they do to them. she kills jeannemary in a shocking and brutal and unnecessarily dramatic fashion, and then she offers gideon genuine compassion and comfort in the aftermath, and both of those things are true and authentic and both of them are motivated by the fact that lyctorhood is fucking terrible.

the way she was interacting with gideon was always a little weird and the fact that she does genuinely understand never goes away. she's fucking old and weird and bored and in pain and she will gore a 14 year old in front of you and then she will hold your hand and give you well-meaning advice while you process the trauma. she will tell you how terrible it is that people are taking advantage of you, she will cradle you and pet your hair and tell you that you're worth more than this, and then she will kill you like she killed all the rest of them. and it really is a shame that you don't understand how that's a mercy, too.

cytherea is scary because the kindness was never fake. and that's why i love her.

[kajibunny]

Hiii! I saw that ur requests are open so may I request an Umemiya x f!reader where Umemiya saves her from a gang that tried to invade the town, maybe she has a few cuts and bruises cause the gang already yk hit her and stuff then when Ume saved her he removed his uniform coat thing and puts it around her and carried her princess style to a safe area (maybe his house or her house or anywhere safe is fine)

Sorry if this is too specific… I’ve been so hooked to Wind Breaker that I read the manga too… and if you can’t tell my fave character is Umemiya🥹🥰 he’s just a sweetheart too😭

₊˚ʚ 🌱 his little one (hajime umemiya x reader)✧ﾟ🌿

✿ contains: fluff, comfort, soft and loving ume having the biggest crush on you, angry feral ume when see saw you got hurt - this man can do both lol ✿ a/n: aaaa umemiya is such a sweetie! i totally get why you love him, and the way he'd show you his love for you would be through protecting you with his life! i put my own little twist on it~ hope that's fine with you, cutie (๑'ᵕ'๑)⸝* have fun reading, thank you for this lovely request! ✿ wc: 850

you were hajime umemiya's beloved little plant shop darling, his favorite part of the town. he frequented your store whenever he needed new and fresh seeds, a chat and exchange of plant care tips here and there, and of course because he wanted to see you. 

umemiya fell in love with you at first sight, and he'd been courting you for a while now. how could he not, you were just the kindest and sweetest little dewdrop that ever existed. he swore he would do anything and everything in his power to keep you safe. 

"little one, look what i brought! i hope you're not allergic to flowe-" he pauses in his tracks, horrified to see your beloved plant store messy and ruined, plants and soil strewn everywhere, with scattered broken pieces of glass.

umemiya was fuming with anger. his smile quickly disappeared as he hurriedly went to find you. 

there you were, sitting helplessly on the ground, sobbing. it shattered his heart into a million pieces to see you this way. "what happened?" speaking to you in a soft voice, he caressed your cheek with his fingers, wiping away the strewn tears on your face with his thumb. "who did this to you, little one?" he inspected the cuts and bruises from your arm when you tried to defend yourself and your plants from being destroyed, but to no avail. 

the culprit was a street gang, one that attempted to cause war with furin. they heard from their sources that you were umemiya's special little seedling, one of the most important people in the world to him, and so they infiltrated the town to mess with him, messing with you being a part of their nasty plan.

little did they know, that was the biggest mistake of their lives. 

umemiya had his speculations and saw some men running away, looking like they were attempting escape. he sprinted towards them in lightning speed, his feral instinct to protect you overtaking him, repeatedly hitting and stepping on the guys, bashing their skulls in with his knee. 

"do you have any idea how much care and effort she puts into taking care of her shop and her plants?! you destroyed her dream." umemiya showed no signs of stopping, fists clashing against the guy's face. "what are you going to do about it now, huh? you made her cry, her beautiful smile is gone!" umemiya had never lost his composure like this. the thought of you getting hurt ruined him. he couldn't bear it. 

luckily, hiragi and his team came running to umemiya, stopping him from possibly killing the gang members, and told him they'll take it from there, and that he should go check on you. 

umemiya rushes back to your store and cradles you in his arms, comforting you and telling you that everything was going to be okay. you sobbed as he held you, umemiya taking off his furin coat and putting it around your shoulders. "i'm sorry, little one. i'm sorry that i couldn't protect what's important to you...but i'm glad i could at least protect what's important to me." he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

"ume...did you get hurt anywhere?" you looked up at him with puppy eyes, it worried you to see that his knuckles were all scratched up from defending your honor. 

"no worries! i'm fine, but you must be so scared, little one. there, there." he smoothens your hair with his hand and embraces you. "i'll come everyday and help you revive the shop, okay? i'm here now. i won't let anything bad happen to you anymore." he says to you. 

"come now, let's get your wounds treated." umemiya scoops you up in his arms, as if you were as light as a feather. "speaking of treat...how about i also treat you to the world's most delicious omurice? maybe it'll put back that smile on your face." you nodded in agreement, umemiya carrying you all the way to pothos elicited some giggles and whistles from onlookers around the town who thought that you two were the cutest. umemiya was definitely not afraid to show everyone his affection for you, and your eyes were only on him too, your knight in shining armor.

and that's how you and umemiya found love amidst the chaos.   

ꕤ bonus ꕤ

"oh, by the way, they're a little squished but, here!" he hands you the forgotten flowers, as you let out a giggle. he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, thinking to himself for the millionth time how beautiful your smile is. "i hope you like it, little one!"

"ume, i've been meaning to ask...why do you call me 'little one'?" you inquired, placing the flowers on your lap gently, while you took a spoonful of omurice that you shared with umemiya at the pothos café, you two looking like little lovebirds only sharing one plate of food. 

"hmm, because you're so little compared to me, and you're my one and only." he smiled happily as your cheeks slowly turned as red as his tomato plant.

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