#he would be a terrible dad in canon

[padfootastic]

Ahaha thank you for the nice comments in tags <3 i love Remus but he seems bit like a spineless people pleaser and after dating somebody who would rather lie about their feelings than have people be mildly upset with them..... I chose violence 🗡

no but ur so right because!!! i’ve been sleeping on this for a while but let’s talk about remus’ personality traits and how they have the potential to make him a bad/absent partner, at best, and an abusive one, at worst. everyone wants to turn him into this image of perfection just bc he’s such an ‘uwu victim’ figure in fanon but that’s SO far from the truth omg

(i am…just gonna put this remus character analysis under a cut bc it got unnecessarily long and i wouldn’t want u to read it if u didn’t want to lol)

so, for one, he’s manipulative. he has no combinations in twisting the truth or dodging it entirely for his own benefit. like, the man could stand in front of his dead best friend’s orphaned son & not even allude to the fact that he knew his dad. he had no problem bringing james & lily up in the most twisted ways possible to guilt/emotionally influence harry. so remus in a relationship would have the capacity to either knowingly or unknowingly manipulate his partner. the definition of gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss except more sinister.

next, his spinelessness. either as a defensive measure to deal w anti-werewolf hostility or as an innate personality trait, remus has the habit of just—not standing up for things. he looks away when his friends act like assholes, even when he’s in a position of authority (which yes, u can argue that he’s afraid of losing them but atp they’ve literally risked life & magic & azkaban for him so either way, he comes off badly—either he doesn’t mind himself, or he doesn’t fully trust their friendship, or it’s just easier to look away). in a relationship, this can manifest as bottling everything inside u until it makes u bitter or u violently unload on the other person in an entirely disproportionate manner. the dynamic would also be a bit skewed. the people pleasing u mentioned is also such a big thing that people usually overlook. when ur constantly trying to make the other person happy and don’t want to rock the boat, that is a cocktail for miscommunication and breakdown of relationships. ur also constantly putting the emotional burden of constructively dealing w issues on ur partner instead of doing it urself.

connected to his cowardice is his habit of running away when things get tough. remus is conflict avoidant; he does not like to put himself in a position where he has to take a decisive stance, especially if it’s against what others around him believe in. he runs away when things get tough, and tbh, for me, this comes from a constant spiral of self hatred & self victimisation, both of which stem from his experience as a werewolf. in every difficult situation, he centres himself & his discomfort and instead of dealing with it and moving forward for a constructive solution, he decides that stepping back from it altogether is better. which, yeah, works well for him bc he can temporarily put a pin in it but it’s kinda terrible for everyone’s who’s left behind. so i also think that remus is a profoundly selfish character who doesn’t look beyond the end of his own nose. u can imagine how those traits might manifest themselves in a relationship.

and his people pleasing!! so this might be verging on fanon but his gratitude and/or devotion to dumbledore sets an…interesting tone. it’s also another example of how he cannot conceive himself in any other term except as a victimised werewolf. the marauders did a lot for him, arguably even more than dumbledore’s token representation formula, but he never felt indebted to them the way he did for D. dumbledore also kind of makes him feel needed? validates his feelings? and that just speaks to a very twisted sense of self for me. which, again, won’t bode well for his other interpersonal relations.

also, on a very hc note, i also feel like remus just…does not have any significant capacity to love. he takes and takes and takes but doesn’t give much in return. this doesn’t even have to be an actively malicious decision, tbh, just a very self-centred one. he doesn’t realise how much he’s taking bc he’s only thinking about his own circumstances.

all of these are also just why i can’t see r/s working out in any healthy manner. remus is exactly antithetical to everything sirius is/believes in, and not even in the fun ‘opposites attract’ way. but that’s another rant no one asked for lmao

#anti remus lupin #just to be safe lol #(i would not want to read sumn like this for j or s) #i read this harry/tonks postwar fic once #that had part r/s allusions #and it was basically about how terrible remus was as a dad & husband bc he kept running out to deal w his demons #not realising or caring ab who he’s leaving behind #and constantly kept making false promises and centering only his own grief #and harry steps up to take care of teddy and tonks #the romance is cool and all but it’s the characterisation of remus that really struck me. bc it was so new. even tho it’s basically #an extension of canon ykwim? #and i think we should talk about that more instead of turning him into a paragon of virtue and morality and parenthood #dude tumblr just ate my ENTIRE answer for a who monite and i was so ??? fully ready to give up i s2g lol #i also have so many thoughts of remus victimising himself #and consequently spitting on everything his friends and family did for him #bc those are destructive thinking patterns and no one except the person themself can take the first step #regardless of how much support they get #and remus just. never wanted to get out of it lbr #i am so sorry for this rant—u didn’t ask for it but ur fic LIT something in me #and i just. couldn’t stop once i started 😭😭 #pen’s asks #pen’s notes

[theaceofarrows]

We as a fandom need to make Alador Blight being a being a compulsive teller of dad jokes mainstream fanon. Once the man rebuilds his relationship with his kids he's going to be constantly telling dad jokes and puns. He has a lot years to make up and he's going to go full throttle

We also need to acknowledge that Edric will 100% inherit his sense of humor one day

#the owl house #alador blight #toh alador #he's going to ne unstoppable #just imagine alador and luz making puns that are constantly driving amity crazy #king would absolutey LOVE hearing dad humor #it's canon #odalia was too much of a bitch for humor #this is dumb #sorry for my terrible grammer #didn't mean for this to come of as rude if it did

[sonicblooms]

he should never smile

but his side profile is nice.. i’ll give him that

#i hate to say it but he's a tiny bit charming #a canonically terrible father tho so i'll continue to call him a heathen #yes that green mist is a burp #i thought he's the kind of dad who would find that hilarious

[gch1995]

Hi! Been thinking about Luke and Vader. How do you think Luke went from wanting to die to believing there was good in Vader? What caused that change/acceptance?

I have a lot of sympathy for Anakin/Darth Vader, and I don’t think it’s fair to place blame on just him for becoming such a deeply dysfunctional and horrifying human disaster as an adult, considering how deeply compromised his agency was his entire life under a series of abusive, hypocritical, and oppressive authority figures within a dystopian galaxy’s fucked up institutions. However, that doesn’t mean Luke wouldn’t have still had absolutely every right to hate his father for hurting him, his friends, and the many other people throughout the galaxy either.

Yet, ultimately Luke didn’t hate his father, even after Darth Vader reached out to him through the force by torturing his son’s friends, stalking him, abducting him, terrorizing him, threatening him, and cutting off his hand to try to coerce him to join the dark side in Empire Strikes Back.

Why?

I think the most obvious reason is that, with a little space and time to recover from the trauma that his father put him through in his efforts to find him and recruit him to the dark side, Luke ultimately sensed the good within Anakin beneath the darkness after he revealed that he was doing all this because Luke was his son, his family, who wanted freedom from Sidious and someone better to bond with than that sadistic asshole his current master was.

Also, in spite of how awful and dangerous it was for Anakin to terrorize Luke, cut off his hand, and threaten him like that on Bespin to try to recruit him to the dark side, he intentionally goes out of his way to avoid outright killing his son by going easy on him battle, giving him chances to escape, and trying to recruit him to the dark side to bond with his son and gain freedom, rather than bringing him to the Emperor.

Yes, he’s being awful, cowardly, and selfish in his methods, but Anakin is also trying to more easily avoid the possibility of one of them getting killed by Palpatine or one another by going after his son to try to recruit him to the dark side to overthrow the Emperor because he knows his master will do worse to Luke and/or himself if he finds out the truth about his son still being alive and a Jedi.

In Empire Strikes Back, Anakin also tells Luke “Don’t make me destroy you” when his son skitters away from him in terror. Though he went about looking for Luke pretty obsessively to try to recruit him for the dark side, once his son actually refuses to be swayed to the dark side by his father on Bespin after being abducted, terrorized, and amputated by him, Anakin notably doesn’t keep hunting down Luke to try to recruit him to the dark side or personally kill him for refusing after he runs away in terror in the movie. He’s upset about it, sure, but he really never wanted for Luke to be killed or hurt long term either.

Then, you also have to examine the fact that Luke didn’t really ever view Owen and Beru Lars as his parents. Though they loved Luke, and he loved them, Owen and Beru still never encouraged Luke to view them as his parents either. They were Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen to Luke, but never mom and dad to him. Luke really wanted someone to be able to identify as his parents. Anakin, flawed as he was, was the first person in Luke’s life to identify themselves as one his parents he had been missing his whole life, which is also why he was particularly desperate to bond with his father and inspire him to turn back to the light side.

If you guys want to chime in, you can!

@abla-soso

@fanfic-lover-girl

@fanfictasia

@komikbookgeek

@yoghurtconsumer

#fanfic-lover-girl #star wars asks #when and why did Luke go from fearing his father to believing in his goodness deep down? #I think it was a couple months to a year after Vader encountered him in empire strikes back. #because Luke realized that for as horrifying as Vader had been he still went out of his way to avoid killing him because he was his son #also for as much as luke loved beru and owen lars for raising him well he never identified with them as mom and dad #and for as much as Owen and beru loved Luke they never raised him as their son. they raised him as their nephew. #i love the horrifying and beautifully tragic father/son relationship between Luke and Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader #even if they sadly did only get like a few days together to really know each other and most of that time they were enemies #Anakin may have been far more dangerous and terrifying to luke than aunt beru and uncle Owen but he still identified himself as Luke’s DAD #I like to imagine Anakin and obi wan spent a lot of time apologizing and talking to Luke and Leia to try to bond and tell them their story #I really think that Luke would feel a lot of conflicting emotions after hearing his dad’s story #on the one hand I think he would feel a lot of sympathy for his biological parents #and feel some resentment towards the way the old Jedi order forbid attachments and operated like an extremist military cult #it’s why I loved it when Luke dragged the old Jedi Order for being hypocritical and self-righteous dicks who helped create Darth Vader #even if unintentionally #but Luke is also a good person at heart too so I know he would be horrified to learn that his father committed mass murder and hurt his mom #even though I hate the sequels and don’t like to consider them canon I loved the scene where Luke dragged the old Jedi Order to Rey #I do think it would take him some time to process how terrible his predecessors from the Jedi Order had become and forgive his father though #do I think he would be able to forgive Anakin even after learning his whole story? absolutely because he has a forgiving heart #and he’d also learn that his father was also a lifelong victim with compromised agency who ultimately regretted doing those horrible things #but it would take him a bit of time and space #return of the jedi #luke skywalker #anakin skywalker #darth vader #ot star wars #pt star wars #empire strikes back

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve and Gareth as cousins warm up, part two! 

First part is HERE. 

Next part is HERE. 

Reminder: Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine.

Warnings: Steve and Robin Get (canon-S3) Drugged. 

"I'm just saying the other theater is cheaper." Eddie said around the straw jammed in his mouth. 

He carried the largest bucket of popcorn Starcourt’s movie theater offered, alongside the two boxes of candy he'd also demanded Gareth buy him. 

"Easier to sneak into, you mean." Gareth corrected, with his significantly smaller bag of popcorn. His, he planned to share with Jeff, Grant having snuck in his own food. 

Gareth himself would have snuck in the cheaper (and far larger) snacks, but Eddie had thrown a fit about going to the mall to see a new movie instead of Hawkin’s far older theater. 

Of course, the older theater also had several disadvantages, key of which was terrible seating, and so, Gareth had bribed him with whatever treats he wanted. 

His wallet took a hit but fuck it, at least they got to actually see the screen. 

Not that they even made it into the fucking theater, because someone chose that moment to crash into Eddie. 

Popcorn kernels and soda flew everywhere, with Eddie only avoiding it landing on him and Gareth both by years of dealing with this exact bullshit in school. Of course, the mall wasn’t school, and neither of them had their guard up. 

"What the hell man--" Eddie spat, immediately on the defense, as they both turned to see what jackass wanted to cause problems this time. 

Except Gareth had recognized the person who bumped him. 

"Steve?" Gareth asked, causing  his cousin to totter around and face him. He was in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, which remained to be absolutely ridiculous, but that hadn't been what had drawn Gareth's attention. 

No, that would be the absolute wrecked face staring at him with a doped up grin. 

All thoughts of the movie immediately faded away. 

"What happened to your face!?" Gareth demanded, immediately stepping up into his cousin's space, eyes darting over the damage. 

Recent black eye, split lip, blood splatter all down one side of his neck, nevermind his clothes… 

"Robs!" Steve called over his shoulder instead of answering, body moving as if he was walking on a wildly rocking boat and not solid ground. "Come 'ere!" 

He beamed, which had the horrific effect of resplitting his lips. "Meet Gareth, my baby cousin!" 

"I am two years younger than you." Gareth argued on automatic. He didn’t look to see how Eddie took this little piece of info--he’d figure out what he’d say later, when Steve wasn’t covered in blood. 

It did not stop Robin from reaching out to pinch his cheeks. 

She too, Gareth realized, was clearly high on something, both of them giggling and weaving on their feet. 

At least Robin didn’t appear to be hurt--or at least, not hurt as badly as Steve. 

"What the hell did you two take?" Gareth demanded, looking between them as he quickly put his popcorn back off to the side. 

"We didn't take anything, dad." Steve said bossily, rolling his eyes. He spoke in a voice so unlike himself that Gareth knew his own face was doing something crazy. 

Not that he could stop it because what the hell. 

"What my patriotic friend here means is that we don't know." Robin added, smacking a hand onto Steve’s shoulder. 

(The entire sentence was slurred and sounded like she'd shoved candy in her mouth before she started talking.) 

"You don't know?!” Gareth asked, taking in the way Steve flinched when Robin touched him. Added a mental note to check his cousin's shoulder too. “How do you not know?" 

Gareth wasn't panicking, he wasn't, except he absolutely fucking was. Steve's dad was going to kill him, disown him, and throw the body out of his house--in that exact order. 

Gareth’s parents wouldn’t take him in, not unless his mom felt she could use it to one up her sister in some way which meant that Gareth was going to have to sneak Steve in and out of the house like he was some--some puppy Gareth was trying to keep and--

"Did someone give you two something?" Eddie asked, interrupting Gareth’s spiraling. 

"Give is a very strong word." Steve said with a snicker. 

Robin nodded so much she looked like a bobble head. She leaned in, nearly falling into Gareth in the process. “In fact it’s not the word I’d use at all! I’d use…” She trailed off, screwing her eyes up in thought. 

“Made us?” Steve suggested as Gareth finally gave in to his instincts and reached out to steady his cousin. “Forced us?” 

“Socked it to us!” Robin added with a weird amount of glee, and the two of them once again collapsed into giggles.

Literally, forcing Gareth to try and steady them both. 

Which meant Eddie was right--they’d been drugged. It made perfect sense-- Steve wasn’t the kind to experiment with drugs beyond weed. Had in fact, given a very long lecture about how he’d make Gareth go on runs with him if he ever found out Eddie had given him anything stronger than weed. 

There was no way he’d change now, and especially not around a jobsite. Particularly one as busy as the mall. 

"You can't tell anybody." Robin continued, eyes so wide they were more white than pupils. "But we got truth serumed!" 

As if that made any fucking sense. 

Gareth turned a half frantic, half disbelieving look to Eddie--whose own face scared him almost as badly as Steve's did. 

He was hiding it, and doing a good job of doing so, but Eddie was the one person Gareth knew better than Steve. 

Right now? Eddie Munson was furious. 

Not mad, or upset, or even as pissed as he had been the time Tommy Hagan had thrown his drug box in the river. 

He was enraged. 

"Hey." He said, and the only thing more shocking than realizing Eddie was this mad was hearing him talk in a calming, almost playful voice. "Sounds like you two sailors had a pretty rough time. Why don't we go to the bathroom and get you both cleaned up? I bet you'll feel a little better." 

It was clearly the right move, because both of them looked downright delighted. 

"He thinks we're sailors!" Steve said, cupping a hand around his mouth and leaning to talk in Robin’s ear as if he was whispering. (He wasn’t.) 

Robin’s grin grew impossibly wider, before Eddie stepped forward to help Gareth half guide half herd the two into the nearest bathroom. 

"I know you." Robin said, squinting dramatically as Eddie opened the door with his regular flair, bellowing for anyone in the place to get out. 

It was Steve's turn to nod enthusiastically. "That's Eddie, Robbie." He said.

"I'm honored King Steve knows such a humble peasant's name." Eddie bowed as Gareth finally got both Steve and Robin into the bathroom, trying to get them to sit on the floor before they fell on their asses. 

Which just made a hurt expression appear on Steve's face. "’Course I do. You have really pretty hair." 

It had the effect of making Eddie look like he’d been punched and Gareth had to quickly turn his bark of laughter into a cough. 

"I bet it's soft.” Steve continued, as he pressed his back against the tiled wall and slowly slid down to the floor. “Gare, is it soft?" 

"It's very soft." Gareth agreed, trying to wet a paper towel with shaking hands. Finally he gave up entirely, ripping the plaid sweater he had tied around his waist and shoving one of the sleeves into the sink. 

“Oh my god.” Robin said abruptly, sitting up from her own slouched spot on the floor as if she’d suddenly been stricken sober. “It’s him! He’s your type!” 

“What’s my type?” Steve turned to her, as Eddie leaned his back against the door to the bathroom, blocking anyone else from entering. 

“It’s like--like Nancy! But boy Nancy.” Robin seemed to think this made a ton of sense, and given Steve’s immediate groan maybe it did to him, but Gareth was too freaked out to even begin to process what the hell they were on about.

Probably nothing, given they’d been drugged. 

Eddie seemed to pick up on his general anxiety and poor attempts at shoving down his own freakout, because he gently called out Gareth’s name. 

“I think it’s wet enough.” He added with a raised eyebrow. His eyes drifted purposefully to the sink and with a curse, Gareth snapped shut the water off. 

His hands were still shaking. 

“Give it to me.” Eddie said gently, moving to take the shirt from Gareth’s hands. “Here, swap me Gare, and guard the door.” 

Gareth did, as Eddie knelt down to take Steve’s chin in one hand, and carefully began dapping his wounded face with the wet sleeve. 

“May I ask what battles you two sailors have been involved in?” He said, continuing to sound like playful, fun Eddie and not like he was about to murder half the town (which, Gareth could tell by body language alone, is what Eddie actually felt like) “Did you happen to catch a glimpse of the villains who did this?"

“Robin melted into Steve, rubbing her face in his shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe us.” 

Eddie smiled his most charming smile, a full blown rouge grin he played up as he continued to wipe and dab at Steve’s wounds. “You’d be surprised at what I believe in, my fair lady.” 

Steve tried to talk, but ended up hissing as he ran into Eddie’s fingers. 

“Russians.” He managed to get out, when Eddie quickly took the sleeve away so he could talk. “We got kidnapped by fucking Russians. Also we kinda saw some shit and they’re after us. Possibly you now if they saw you with us.” 

There was the briefest of pause as Steve and Robin stared at Eddie, as Eddie stared back. 

Then Steve and Robin as one started howling with laughter, so hard that Robin’s head ended up in Steve’s lap with Steve’s own head resting on hers. 

Eddie turned to give Gareth a pinched look. “Russians.” He said, still calm despite it all. “Right.” 

Which had to be the fucking drugs speaking. 

Gareth just took a deep breath as Eddie managed to gently prod Steve back into putting his chin in his hand, shaking his head ever so slightly. 

He didn’t know who he was going to actually have to murder, but at least Eddie looked to be on board with acting as his backup. 

#tw drugs #tw canon bodily injury #Steve Harrington #Robin Buckley #eddie munson #Gareth Emerson #Gareth and Steve as cousins #secret cousins #whose family had a falling out #Eddie is fuckin PISSED #he may be a drug dealer but he is a drug dealer with MORALS #how dare someone drug people in his town! #mind hes thinking Steve somehow took a hit for Robin and then they still got Robin anyways but ya know #Gareth is having a full bore anxiety meltdown #He just wants his older cousin to be okay : ( \

[hothammies]

the party leader, mike wheeler - apoc au character details + poll under the cut!

---

mike's role in the party:

a scouter - essentially plans runs, checks areas first to ensure safety, and directs the runners during supply runs

assigns basic survival chores at the beginning of each day (laundry, boiling water, patrol, hunting, etc.)

is the "face" of the party -> always the one to negotiate with people of other groups

even though the party likes to give him shit for being kind of rude and bossy about how he talks to them in "leader" mode - they always hang onto his every word! they love and respect him deeply

kind of like a tired dad whenever he's not fighting with someone else -> basically watches over everyone to make sure they're okay

would never hesitate to do something deplorable to protect the party: family first

skills + hobbies:

considered the designated driver (along with max): nancy taught him when he was younger. he was scared about being useless due to his inability to shoot and aim guns so nancy helped him find something useful. max teaches him how to drive manual so that he can drive her muscle car (its how they get over their distaste for each other)

writes an entry in a journal that he stole every day! he lets will doodle in the margins of the paper :)

loves to read whatever's around - particularly interested in history, sci-fi, and old journals from people before the apocalypse (reads them with dustin and el -> they are nosy as hell and live for the drama)

great at using machetes and hatchets -> do NOT let this boy shoot a gun. he will accidentally hurt you and himself

good at fixing up guns and navigating - lucas (guns) and dustin (navigating) taught him :D

quirks / fun facts:

he likes to switch around the pins on his jacket a lot! the party find pins around to give to him (range from terrible to wearable)

since he's the only boy that likes to tie up his hair, max and el like to doll up and play around with his hair during their downtime

is very annoying and particular when it comes to doing survival chores (out of love) -> makes sure that the chores are divided equally among all of them and that no one gets the same chores twice in a row

--- other notes: mike was the first character i had in mind when thinking about this au (no surprise there) and the drawing of him sitting cross legged with a machete in his hand was the first ever "official" drawing i made for this :D i tried to make apoc mike similar to canon mike in terms of his temperament, his hero complex, his self-sacrificial tendencies, his inability to appropriately process his romantic feelings, his natural leadership and his personality. about mike's inability to use guns -> looking at mike's character dnd sheet, his dexterity is low and s1 mike wheeler cannot aim for shit either (see his rock throw). the reason he's most comfortable with machetes (and hatchets) is because of their versatility as both weapons and tools! just wanted to share because i think mike needed a nerf and him not being able to shoot guns is both in character and funny as hell to me i've had mike and will's char sheets done for a while and i really love the way they look :) i'm excited to post will's next! i'm working on the character sheets in batches of two, so which duo are yall most interested to see next? i'll work on them based on the poll results and post them next week at the earliest :) i'll prob also try out some concept designs for the demogorgon-like zombies sometime soon as well!

#shoutout to the acswy writers for sticking the idea of mike driving manual cars in my head! #mike wheeler #stranger things #stranger things fanart #st apoc au #byler #sammi's art

[loveofdetail]

i want to talk about Gale's "I'm not quite sure I'd consider myself father material" line because I think a lot of the fandom brushes it off as just another manifestation of his profound negative self-image but ummmmmmm. well i simply hard disagree. i think he's RIGHT, i think this is a moment of him having an honest and accurate self-assessment: he wouldn't be a good parent.

i do not say this as hate, i say this as someone who also would make a terrible parent. i'm impatient and intense about my own wants and i won't give up the freedom to do frankly irresponsible shit from time to time. i know this about myself and i look at gale and go "same hat."

if i'm being fully honest i find the quantity of pregnancy/parenthood content in the gale dekarios tag really off-putting. yes i have filters but they simply don't catch everything. i'm not trying to rain on anyone's parade, if that's what you like go wild with it no judgment etc etc. i know it's Just One Line of dialogue and a pretty ambivalently phrased one at that and it's everybody's inalienable right to ignore canon anyway, so...

but. man. in my heart of hearts it is genuinely alienating to see a character who 1) struggles with impulsiveness 2) struggles with suicidality 3) has a tendency to dismiss people who aren't on his level 4) is in the depths of navigating his own selfish/ambitious streak 5) hyperfixates on intellectual interests to a sometimes unhealthy degree and MOST OF ALL 6) expresses real doubt toward the idea of parenthood!!! ...get fandomified into The Perfect Dad. sorry.

#also as previously stated WYLL THE ACTUALLY SELFLESS ONE IS RIGHT THERE but that's a whole other post #gale dekarios #bg3 #will i regret posting this idk time will tell i guess!

[actually-azi]

✨ Rating Hazbin Hotel ships ✨

Adam / Lucifer - 3/10, It's definitely a funny concept that Lucifer fucked both his wives and then him, but in reality it's a no from me.

Adam / Lute - 7/10, Their relationship would've been unhealthy af but not gonna lie it's pretty cute. I just love Lute so goddamn much lol.

Alastor / Lucifer - 7/10, I like the concept because it's genuinely funny and kinda cute but only as a crack ship. I definitely don't see it actually happening.

Alastor / Literally anyone else - 0/10, I genuinely don't think Alastor would ever even consider a relationship. He just thinks he's above everyone else.

Angel / Cherri - 0/10, What the fuck y'all, he's gay. This one is weird af and idk why it's even a thing.

Angel / Husk - 10/10, I love that Husk cares about Angel for more than sex, they're so cute together especially if they take things slowly.

Charlie / Emily - 2/10, They're so similar that together I feel like it would be too much. Also I really dislike the idea of splitting up Chaggie.

Charlie / Emily / Vaggie - 6/10, I probably wouldn't mind all three of them together. It would be cute to call it Charlie's Angels lol.

Charlie / Vaggie - 10/10, I love them together, they're so supportive and adorable. The way Vaggie looks at Charlie with so much love warms my heart.

Cherri / Sir Pentious - 7/10, I don't like Cherri all that much but I'm so happy that Pen got the girl in the end, he deserves to be loved.

Lilith / Lucifer - 5/10, Mostly it's low because I'm suspicious of Lilith. If she ends up not terrible then I could see it being higher but idk, it's sus for now.

Lute / Vaggie - 7/10, I enjoy the idea of them being exes or something like that. Or Lute being jealous of what Vaggie has with Charlie.

Niffty / Valentino - 10/10, Great crack ship. The fanart is hilarious and Nif's love of bad boys makes it a great concept. But I do pretty much only like it as a joke.

One sided Vox / Alastor - 15/10, This is 100% canon in my head. Vox is SO down bad for Alastor and took it SO personally that Alastor couldn't give less of a fuck like the aroace king he is. I love this SO much.

Valentino / Vox - 500/10, This is my Hazbin OTP honestly. These two losers are terrible people but I love them together more than I can even put into words. They just fit so well together and act like an old married couple.

Valentino / Velvette / Vox - 2/10, Velvette sees Vox and Val as her dumb gay dads and I'll die on that hill. They're more like a family and she's the glue that keeps the other two from imploding when they get pissy.

Velvette / Vox - 2/10, Not feeling it. Honestly I think Velvette is aroace and/or a lesbian. I just don't see anything romantic involving her and either of the other Vees.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #charlie morningstar #lucifer #angel dust #husk #cherri bomb #sir pentious #vox #valentino #velvette #niffty #vaggie #shipping #radioapple #radiostatic #staticmoth #chaggie #lilith #adam #lute #hazbin hotel emily #voxval

[fatecantstopme]

Changed

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: Enemies to lovers…the three times you and Dean/Sam work together and the final time when everything changes

Warnings: canon violence, cursing, use of pet names, body shaming, mentions of injuries and wound care. SMUT, face sitting, oral (F receiving) unprotected sex (P in V).

A/N: y'all I'm sorry, but I made Dean a total asshole for the beginning part of this. I had to for the storyline...don't hate me, it's got a GREAT ending.

You'd been hunting for close to five years when you first met Sam and Dean Winchester. The three of you happened to be working the same case in a small town in Ohio.

You and Sam hit it off instantly, but Dean was much more closed off and stand-offish. In fact, he was down-right rude most of the time. He made it very clear he didn't like you, nor did he want your help with the case.

Sam tried to get Dean to be a little more friendly, but it didn't matter what he did, Dean was not a fan of you and he showed it.

"If this wasn't an entire nest of vampires, I would be absolutely fine walking away from this," you said to Dean. "But I'm not about to let the two of you go in there alone."

"We don't need your help," Dean snapped.

"Well you've got it, so suck it up."

Sam stepped in. "Why don't we all just calm down."

"Shut up, Sam!" you and Dean yelled at the same time.

Sam threw up his hands and stepped back. He didn't wanna argue with either of you.

"I don't need help from some geek who probably can't even fight," Dean hissed.

"What's that supposed to mean? I'm a damn good fighter, Winchester," you growled.

Dean looked you up and down with disdain. It was very clear where his brain went and you did not appreciate his assumptions. Maybe you didn't really look like a traditional hunter, but you were good at it.

"No offense, (Y/N), but you don't exactly inspire confidence in your fighting abilities."

You took a deep breath and tried not to lash out. "You're an asshole, Dean Winchester, and honestly I don't care what happens to you, but your brother is a good person. You might both be amazing hunters, but I'm not letting Sam go in there without more than just you for backup."

Sam cut in before Dean could respond. "I agree with (Y/N), Dean. She's coming with us."

Dean shot his brother a dark glare, but Sam didn't back down. "You know what? Fine. If she dies, it's her fault."

"Fine with me," you snapped back at him.

Dean stomped out of the motel room, leaving you and Sam alone.

"I'm sorry about him," Sam said softly. "He's been different since Dad died."

You shook your head. "Don't apologize for him, Sam. I'm just worried his head isn't in the game and it's gonna get you killed."

Sam sighed. "I know. I'm worried about him too."

You let out a long sigh. "The only thing we can do is hope we all make it out of this alive."

Sam nodded his agreement. "Let's go before he gets even more annoyed."

You grabbed your gear and headed out the door after Sam.

As you'd predicted, clearing out the vampire nest required all three of you. By the time the last vamp fell to the ground--headless--you had more than proven yourself. Or at least, that's what you thought.

Sam, ever the gentleman, was extremely grateful for your help. "We couldn't have done it without you," he commented.

You were about to reply when Dean let out a rude scoff. You turned your attention to him with narrowed eyes. "Got something you wanna say, Winchester?"

He glared at you. "We would have been just fine without you."

"You know what? Screw you. If you wanna make terrible decisions that might get you killed, go for it, but don't drag your brother down with you."

Dean looked like he wanted to say more, but you'd stormed off in the direction of your car. You wanted to get back to the motel, shower, and go to bed. You needed to be on the road in the morning--on your way to another case.

Once you were out of earshot, Sam snapped at his brother. "Dude, what the hell has gotten into you?"

"What? You got the hots for the fat chick?"

"Don't talk about her like that, it's incredibly demeaning. Besides, she more than proved herself tonight."

"Whatever. Let's just get the hell out of here."

The next morning, you said your goodbyes to Sam, offering him your assistance in the future should he ever need it. You didn't bother to address Dean, knowing it was unlikely he would even respond.

Once you hit the highway, your mind began to focus on your next case--leaving the Winchester boys far behind.

**********

It had been close to 6 months since the hunt with Sam and Dean, and you were surprised to get a call from Sam requesting your assistance on another case.

"We think it's demonic omens," Sam explained.

You sighed. "How bad we talking?"

"We're not sure, but we could really use your help."

"Did you clear it with your brother?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line that told you everything you needed to know.

"Sam..."

"Look, I didn't say anything to him, but even he admitted we needed to call for help."

You sighed again, running your fingers through your hair. "Fine, but only because you asked."

"Thank you, (Y/N). I really appreciate it."

You hung up the phone and packed your bag to head to the middle of nowhere Oklahoma.

You didn't often meet people you didn't get along with, but Dean Winchester was certainly one of those people. You hated him and he quite obviously hated you. You weren't sure what it was about you he disliked so much, but you didn't appreciate the way he treated you.

There was something in the way he looked at you--disdain or disgust, you weren't sure, but you'd seen it in other men's eyes. You knew what it was...it was a judgment you'd seen a thousand times before. You'd struggled with your weight your whole life and some men (and women too) had the tendency to judge you based on your physical appearance.

It didn't help that you were a woman in a very male-dominated job. Male hunters had the tendency to judge you with a single look. It didn't matter that you were smart and capable--that you were a great hunter in your own right. All they saw was the outside and that was all they needed to decide what you could do--what you were capable of.

Unfortunately, Dean Winchester was apparently one of those hunters. Sam clearly saw there was more to you than appearances and you appreciated being given the benefit of the doubt. Sam had given you the chance to prove yourself and you'd done so, but that didn't seem to change Dean's perception of you.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt more because of who he was. Dean Winchester was a well-known figure in the hunting community, as were his father and brother. You knew he was a truly amazing hunter and part of you craved his approval. There was also something to be said about the way he looked...the man was gorgeous in an almost offensive way. You couldn't stop yourself from noticing, but you were painfully aware he did not find you attractive. As stupid as it might sound, his disdain hurt you deeply.

You sighed as you stared out the windshield at the road ahead of you. You didn't want to focus on the negative, especially when you were on your way to face what appeared to be several demons. You needed to be on your A-game...you'd be damned if you let yourself get distracted by a mere man.

Several hours later, you pulled into the parking lot of the motel the Winchesters were staying at. You went up to the motel room door and knocked, sending up a silent prayer that Sam would be the one to answer the door.

Someone must have been looking down on you favorably, because moments later, the door swung open to reveal Sam Winchester. "Thanks for coming, (Y/N)."

You smiled at him. "Of course. You call, I come."

Sam gestured for you to come in. "Dean's out getting food."

"Oh." You didn't know what else to say--part of you wished he was here so you could just get it over with, but another part of you was glad to prolong the inevitable for a little while.

"He'll be back soon," Sam said lamely.

"Okay. Should I get a room then?"

Sam shook his head. "You can have my bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"That's absurd, you're significantly taller than me. I'll take the couch or get my own room."

"There are no more rooms," Sam said with a shrug. "So take the bed, please. I'll feel like an asshole if you sleep on the couch."

You chuckled lightly and tossed your bag onto the bed nearest the door. "Alright, fine. I wouldn't want to offend your gentlemanly sensibilities," you teased.

He smiled, but before he could respond, the door swung open and the elder Winchester walked through carrying a bag of diner food.

You swallowed thickly, hoping he wouldn't have anything nasty to say right away.

Unfortunately, it seemed your luck had run out. "What's she doing here?" Dean asked in annoyance.

"She's here to help," Sam answered.

Dean threw the bag of food on the table. "I'm sorry--when I told you to call for backup, this is who you called?"

"She was available and she's more than capable," Sam argued.

"I don't give a damn. You should have called someone else. She'll get herself killed--or one of us."

"She has a name," you snapped. "And she's right here."

Dean turned his attention to you and you could see the fiery anger in his gaze. You didn't understand what about you made him so angry, but he certainly didn't give you a chance to ask.

"Have you ever even faced a demon, (Y/N)?" The way he emphasized your name was dripping with condescension.

"Actually, I have. More than once."

A flash of surprise crossed his face, but was gone quickly. "How many people died when you did?"

"One," you answered, trying to keep your voice level. "The innocent woman some demon scum was wearing."

"Were you alone?"

"Every time."

If you'd expected Dean to be impressed, you'd have been sorely mistaken. "This will be a hundred times worse. Half this town is demon-infested and countless people will die. Can you handle that?"

"It's the job," you answered as calmly as you could.

Dean regarded you quietly for a moment, before seeming to accept your answer. "Don't get us killed." He turned away from you and sat down at the table to eat his dinner, ignoring you once more.

You glanced over at Sam who looked extremely uncomfortable, but he didn't comment on anything that had been said. Instead he asked his brother if he'd gotten enough food to share with you too.

Before you were able to say you'd already eaten dinner, Dean made an offhand comment that struck a nerve.

"I don't think we have enough food for her even if you and I don't eat."

Sam gasped. "Dean!"

You froze for a moment, tears pressing against your eyes, but you didn't dare shed them. You pushed your emotions down and took a deep breath. "I actually already ate."

"Thank god," Dean mumbled.

"That's it!" you snapped. "What the hell is your problem with me, Winchester?"

He looked up at you with an annoyed glare. "I don't like you and I don't trust you."

"I don't care for you either, but that doesn't mean you have to treat me like shit. I haven't insulted you a single time, but you've managed to insult me several times from the moment we met. Either shut the hell up or I'll be forced to fight fire with fire."

He raised a single eyebrow at you, but he didn't say a single word. You were surprised at his silence, but you were done with the conversation. "I'm going to shower."

As soon as the bathroom door closed, Sam threw a wrapper at Dean. "What the hell, man?"

Dean shrugged. "What? I don't like her."

"What the hell did she ever do to you?"

"She didn't have to do anything. I just don't like her."

"Fine, but don't treat her like that," Sam requested. "She doesn't deserve your animosity...and you're better than this."

Dean didn't comment one way or the other, his silence signaling the end of the conversation.

"That was incredibly stupid of you!" Dean yelled.

"Oh fuck off, Winchester!" you yelled back. "You'd be dead if I hadn't!"

"I didn't ask you to save me!"

The argument was a waste of breath, but Dean didn't want to let it go and neither did you. You'd saved Dean's life during a fight with a demon and it put your own life at great risk.

"A simple 'thank you' would suffice," you growled.

"You could have gotten Sammy killed, you idiot! He had to save your stupid ass because you wanted to play the hero!"

"Dean, that's not--" Sam began.

"Why can't you just be thankful you're not dead?!" you snapped. "And neither is your brother, for that matter!"

Dean's eyes were filled with a rage so dark it frightened you. "I don't understand how you've managed to survive this long on your own, but I doubt it'll last much longer if you keep pulling stupid stunts like that."

You'd managed to regain control of your temper, so you bit your lip to keep from yelling at him again. "You know what? I'm done. Don't ask for my help again."

"(Y/N) wait--" Sam called.

"No, Sam. I'm done. I can't put up with his attitude and you know what? I don't have to. Please don't call me again unless you're hunting alone."

You walked away from both men, fully expecting to never see either one of them again.

**********

Fate, of course, had other plans. One year later, almost to the day, you saved Sam Winchester's life...

You'd been working a case in a small town in Texas and you'd heard rumblings of a missing FBI agent who had been doing research in the town a couple days before you'd arrived.

You knew it was unlikely a real FBI agent had been conducting an investigation here...the events that had led you here clearly indicated the presence of a witch--a damn powerful one at that. As such, it was clear to you a hunter pretending to be FBI had been on the case before you.

You quickly put the pieces together and realized the witch you were hunting had likely kidnapped the other hunter and was doing god only knows what to him.

The more people you talked to, the more certain you were that the missing hunter/FBI agent was none other than Sam Winchester. All of the descriptions people gave you sounded exactly like him.

You tried calling his cell phone several times, but he didn't answer. You didn't want to place the next call, but you didn't see another option. You pressed his name in the phone and put it to your ear.

"Why are you calling me?" Dean's voice asked from the other end of the line.

"Do you know where your brother is?"

"I haven't spoken to him in a while."

"So that's a no?"

You heard him swear under his breath. "Why does it matter, (Y/N)?" he snapped.

"I'm hunting a witch that I think your brother was also hunting. He's missing."

"What do you mean, missing?"

"I mean no one in town has seen him in two days."

Dean was silent for a moment. "Where are you?"

"Lockhart, Texas."

"I'll be there by tomorrow morning."

He hung up without saying anything else, leaving you alone with your worry.

You knew you didn't have time to wait for Dean's arrival. You needed to find Sam...witches were no joke. You'd never forgive yourself if he died because you waited.

You started diving into your research, trying to identify the witch. This is what you were good at, but the added pressure of finding Sam clouded your brain.

You took a deep breath and tried to clear your head. You needed to focus--Sam needed you.

You turned your attention back to your work and noticed you had more clarity. Before you knew it, four hours had passed. You felt like you were no closer to finding this witch than you had been that morning.

You were about ready to give up for a while when you noticed something you'd missed before. You started flipping through the pages you had on the table in front of you and gasped softly. "Her," you mumbled, underlining the name on the page.

You quickly looked up the woman's address and within minutes, you were rushing out the door, on your way to--hopefully--save your friend.

When you pulled up in front of the house, every instinct you had told you you were in the right place. You couldn't explain why, but you just knew this was it.

You double checked your weapons before getting out of the car and making your way around the back of the house as quickly and quietly as possible.

You manage to get into the house without notifying the occupant and began creeping your way through the house, checking each room for signs of Sam or the witch.

You knew there was no basement in the house--Texas homes don't have basements--so there were a limited number of places Sam could be.

You'd cleared the first floor and slowly made your way up to the second floor. As you neared the first room, you heard two voices talking from farther down the hallway.

You immediately made your way towards the voices, moving slowly so as to not make any sound. As you got closer, you heard a female voice followed by a male voice you instantly recognized--Sam.

You continued on quietly until you reached the door. You listened closely, trying to make out what was being said.

"All you have to do," the female voice said, "is tell me who else you're working with."

"I told you," Sam's voice said angrily, "I'm working alone."

"Then why is there a woman looking for you?"

"A woman?" Sam's voice was laced with confusion.

"She's been asking around town about you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Sam cried out in pain and you nearly barged through the door on instinct. You controlled yourself, continuing to remain motionless while listening.

"Samuel...stop lying to me. Who is the woman?"

"I don't know," he insisted before crying out in pain again.

After a few moments, Sam spoke again, slightly breathless. "Look, if you're gonna kill me, just do it. I have nothing more to say to you."

The witch laughed darkly. "Perhaps you're right. You're of no use to me anymore."

Sam yelled in pain and you knew it was time to act. You swung the door open and entered the room with your gun pointed ahead of you. Your eyes quickly scanned the room, landing on Sam, who was sitting in the center of the room, arms tied to a chair. Your gaze next landed on the witch who was in the middle of chanting some sort of spell.

It took you less than a second to decide what to do, and that second was all you needed. You pulled the trigger and watched the bullet strike the witch's chest. She looked shocked, eyes locked on your face as she fell to her knees. Her gaze never left you as she took her final breath, now nothing but an empty vessel on the floor.

You ran over to Sam, taking in his injuries quickly. Seeing nothing of immediate concern you started to cut his bindings.

"(Y/N)?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Hunting a witch, obviously."

He chuckled lightly. "But how did you find me?"

"A little bit of skill and a whole lot of luck."

"Somehow I doubt that," he said softly.

Your eyes met his as you cut the final rope. You offered him a small smile, but remained silent.

"Seriously, (Y/N). Thank you."

You shrugged. "You would have done the same for me."

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again after last time," he admitted.

"Honestly, I didn't either," you whispered. "But when I realized you were here, I knew I couldn't leave you. I, uh--I called Dean."

Sam's eyes widened in shock. "You did what?!"

"I was worried about you and you weren't answering your phone, so I called him. I hoped he'd know where you were."

Sam sighed. "We actually haven't been hunting together for a while."

You nodded. "He mentioned that...but he's--um, well he's on his way."

"Great," he mumbled. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"I'm sorry," you said softly. "I didn't know."

"It's fine, (Y/N). You didn't know."

Unsurprisingly, Sam was staying at the same motel as you, so you drove him back. Once you arrived, you helped him out of his shirt and began to clean his wounds. Several of them were deep enough to require stitches, but there didn't appear to be anything life threatening.

"You're very lucky," you muttered.

Sam grabbed your hand, stopping you in the middle of a stitch. "It wasn't luck, (Y/N/N). You saved my life."

You sighed quietly and continued sewing his skin back together.

"I'm serious. I owe you my life."

"You don't owe me anything."

"I do. I guess both of us do now."

"What?"

"You saved Dean's life last year. He might have behaved like an ass, but he owes you his life as much as I owe you mine."

You finished the stitch and moved on to the next cut. "We're hunters, Sam. It's what we do."

"Doesn't mean I'm not grateful."

You offered him a soft smile. "Well then, you're welcome."

After about 30 minutes of constant wound care, you'd managed to clean and stitch up all his cuts. He'd been awake for almost 2 days at this point and just wanted a shower and some sleep.

He agreed to take a shower while you ran out and got some food that you practically forced him to eat before he collapsed on the bed, sound asleep within seconds.

You ate your dinner quietly, watching the large man sleep. You were incredibly glad you'd managed to save him--it would have haunted you forever if you'd been too late.

Eventually, you crawled into the other bed and passed out, forgetting for a moment that Dean Winchester was still on his way to Lockhart in search of his brother.

Early the next morning, you were awoken by loud, insistent knocking on the motel door. You dragged yourself out of bed, muttering under your breath as you made your way over to the door.

"Calm down, I'm coming," you hissed quietly. You looked through the peep hole and saw a slightly disheveled Dean Winchester standing on the other side.

You opened the door and he practically ran into the room, eyes searching the space for his brother. His gaze finally landed on Sam's sleeping form and his whole body instantly relaxed. Sam was peacefully still--exhaustion keeping him asleep.

You walked over to Dean and tentatively touched his arm to jostle him out of his trance. "He's alright," you murmured.

Dean shook his head to clear it and turned to you. "What?"

"Sam's okay," you repeated. "Just some cuts and bruises, but he'll live."

"What happened?"

You explained what had happened and how you'd identified the witch and found Sam.

"You saved his life," Dean whispered.

"He would have done the same for me."

"Still...you didn't have to, but you did it anyway. Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me."

"Yeah," Dean mumbled. "I do."

You were both silent for a moment before Dean continued talking.

"Sam and I--well, we haven't been talking lately. I--I would have been devastated if something happened to him before I could apologize. I was mad and stupid and I said things I didn't mean...but he's still my brother. I can't lose him."

For the first time since you met him, you saw something more to Dean Winchester--something beneath the facade. It was obvious he truly loved his brother and in this moment he was showing a rare piece of humanity that shocked you. Maybe beneath the gruff, rude exterior, there was something genuinely good.

"Why don't you get some sleep," you said softly. "I'm sure you're tired from your drive and Sam will want to see you in the morning."

Dean turned his gaze back to you. "Thanks...I--uh, I am kinda tired." His face told you he wanted to say more, but he couldn't find the words.

Your expression softened. "I'll take the couch. Don't worry about it."

He shook his head immediately. "No, go back to sleep. I'll take the couch."

You decided not to argue, instead crawling into bed and falling asleep quickly. Something about Dean's presence made you feel safe.

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of voices in the room. As you oriented yourself, you realized it was Sam and Dean talking quietly across the room. You remained quiet and still, ears listening to the discussion.

It was clear they'd been talking for a while and the conversation had turned to the current situation.

"I can't believe she saved you," Dean whispered.

"Neither can I, to be honest. I don't even know how she found me. She said it was mostly luck."

"A year ago, I would have agreed with that," Dean stated. "But now? She's saved both of our lives--I have to admit she's a damn good hunter."

A small smile played on your lips and you were glad they couldn't see your face from their angle.

"That's a lot coming from you," Sam said in surprise. "What changed?"

"Honestly? Me," Dean answered. "A lot has happened in the last 6 months Sammy. I've taken the time away to really get my shit together. I was just so damn empty and I was taking it out on everyone, including you. But I've said some terrible things to (Y/N) and I don't know how to apologize. Hell, I don't even know if she'd want me to apologize. I treated her terribly and I wouldn't be surprised if she hated me."

"I'm pretty sure she does," Sam said softly. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't apologize or you can't fix it. You owe her your life as much as I do...that should mean something."

"I know," Dean admitted. "I've been such an asshole to her. I don't even think I deserve her forgiveness."

"It's worth a shot, Dean."

You couldn't see Dean's face, but you could hear the emotion in his voice. It made you think he truly meant what he was saying. Before this moment, you wouldn't have even considered listening to a word this man had to say to you...but now you felt like you owed it to him--or maybe yourself--to hear him out, should he choose to apologize.

You'd gotten out of bed not long after overhearing Sam and Dean's conversation. After a nice shower, you were getting your things together to head back out onto the road--onto your next hunt.

"I'm gonna grab some breakfast," Sam called out. "You guys want me to bring you something?"

"Coffee and a breakfast sandwich, please," you said in response.

"Coffee and an absurd amount of bacon," Dean added.

Sam groaned. "You are so gonna have a heart attack."

"I'm not gonna live long enough for that, Sammy, so don't worry about me. Bacon is worth it."

You chuckled softly and Dean shot you a look. When he noticed the soft smirk on your face, he smiled in return. "I think (Y/N) agrees."

Sam sighed. "Whatever--I'll be back in a while."

You waved at Sam's back before returning your attention to your duffle. You threw your last couple items into it before zipping it up.

"So..." Dean said awkwardly from behind you.

You sighed heavily before turning to face him. "Yes?"

"I...I, um--fuck," he muttered. "I owe you an apology."

You folded your arms across your chest. "Go on."

You'd never seen him look so uncomfortable and a part of you was happy about it. You felt bad for feeling that way, but after everything Dean had said and done to you since you'd met, he more than deserved it.

"I've been a major asshole."

You nodded your agreement.

He had the grace to look embarrassed. "I've said some truly horrible things to you and uh--about you. Things I never should have thought, let alone said aloud."

He fell silent and waited for a moment as if he was hoping you would disagree.

"Is that all?"

He exhaled slowly. "Look, you saved my life and I treated you like shit--then you go and save my brother's life even after everything I've done."

"I didn't do it for you."

"No--no, I know. I just...I suck at apologies."

You chuckled lightly. "A bit, yeah."

"What I'm trying to say is--I was wrong. I was wrong about everything. I was wrong to treat you the way I did and I'm so fucking sorry, (Y/N). I'm sorry I hurt you and I'm sorry I was such an asshole. I don't have a good excuse--I was broken and hurting and I chose to take it out on everyone around me. I'm not trying to excuse what I did--I just want you to know that I'm not usually like that. I've spent the last year trying to find myself again and I'm closer than I've ever been. But, umm that's not the point--it's not about me. I--fuck--I'm just so goddamn sorry, (Y/N)."

You offered him a small smile. "I genuinely appreciate your apology, Winchester. Especially because I can see how difficult it was for you to do it."

He looked relieved. "I'm not good at this sort of thing."

"It's okay. You got your point across."

"Oh, one more thing."

"Hmm?"

"You're a damn good hunter."

You smiled genuinely for the first time and Dean couldn't help but notice how it lit up your whole face. Your smile was contagious--and he found himself returning the expression.

Before you could thank him, Sam came back with breakfast.

"Am I interrupting?" Sam asked.

"No, we're good," Dean answered.

Sam looked at you and you nodded. He looked relieved, but he didn't comment on the situation.

Dean's stomach grumbled and he reached for the bag of takeout. "Let's eat."

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Sam asked.

You shook your head. "I appreciate the offer, but I think you guys need some time alone. Rekindle your relationship, mend fences, etc."

Sam nodded. "Alright, but please call us if you need anything--and I mean anything."

He wrapped you in a hug, which you happily returned. "You know I will."

He stepped back and headed out to the car, leaving you and Dean alone.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye for now," Dean said.

You turned to him with a smile. "I guess it is."

You stuck your hand out and Dean shook it tentatively.

"We're not at the hugging stage yet, Winchester," you said lightly.

He chuckled softly. "I've gotta earn that?"

"Oh yeah," you teased.

Dean grinned, liking the teasing tone in your voice. "I'll work on it. Stay safe, (Y/N)...call us if you need anything."

You nodded. "Same to you. Keep Sammy safe, okay?"

"I always will."

**********

You dragged yourself across the floor of the old, dirty warehouse, pain radiating through most of your body. You heard the footsteps of the creature you'd been hunting as it crossed the room towards you. You could see your cellphone lying several yards away, your gun not far from it. You knew this was it--you were gonna die.

You were breathing heavily, the pain almost unbearable. You didn't want to die, but you knew you wouldn't be able to reach your gun in time.

The creature took another step towards you and growled lowly. You looked up at it and resigned yourself to death.

"Hey, ugly!" a man's voice yelled from behind the creature.

The creature turned in the direction of the voice and a gunshot rang out. The creature cried out in pain and dropped to the ground dead about a foot from you.

You released the breath you'd been holding, the sharp exhale making your ribs ache. You heard footsteps rushing towards you and what you saw made you smile a little.

"(Y/N)!" Sam yelled as he dropped to the ground beside you. "You okay?"

Dean was right behind him, coming to a stop on the other side of your body. You could see the concern in both of their faces as their eyes scanned your body, looking for serious injuries.

"Hey guys," you said softly. "I'm alright."

"Can you stand?" Sam asked.

You nodded and the boys started to help you up. You groaned in pain, exhaling slowly to try and ease it.

"Easy," Dean said softly. "I've got you."

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't comment. He just continued to help you until you were standing up fully. Dean's arm slipped around your waist and pulled you against his side, holding you upright.

"Lean on me, okay? I've got you." He turned to his brother. "You handle the monster, I'll get (Y/N) to the car."

Dean moved slowly, allowing you to lean into him as you limped beside him. "You alright, (Y/N)?" he asked softly.

"That damn thing beat the hell outta me...definitely some bruised ribs, pretty sure I sprained my ankle, and I've got some pretty deep gashes on my back and hip. Otherwise though, I'm peachy."

Dean chuckled softly. "Tough as nails, this one."

"Minus the whole 'almost died' thing."

"Hey, don't worry about that. Happens to the best of us."

"I've noticed," you said lightly.

He laughed. "Rude."

"Seriously, though, thanks for saving my ass."

"My pleasure, (Y/N). Besides, I owed you."

You whimpered slightly when Dean shifted to help you as you approached the stairway.

"Shit, (Y/N), sorry. You okay?"

"I'm fine," you lied through gritted teeth.

"Liar," he mumbled. "Hold still."

You did as he asked, watching in confusion as he took a step away from you, sliding his left arm under your legs and scooping you up into his arms.

You gasped in pain and surprise. "What are you doing?!"

"Sorry if that hurt you, but this will be a hell of a lot easier--and less painful for you."

"You are not carrying me down the stairs, Winchester," you hissed.

"You gonna stop me?" he asked harshly. When you were silent, he smirked smugly. "Didn't think so."

You held on tightly as Dean carried you down the stairs with shocking ease. You knew you weren't light and it surprised you he was able to carry you without issue.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, you stirred against him. "You can put me down now."

"Not happening. I'll put you down when we get to the car."

You stared at him in shock. The man in front of you was so different from the man you'd met almost three years prior. Hell, he was even different from the man who'd apologized to you 8 months ago.

"You've changed," you whispered.

He glanced at your face, cheeks tinged pink. "For the better, I hope."

You smiled warmly. "Definitely."

Dean had driven you back to the motel, leaving Sam to bring your car back. Instead of taking you to your room, Dean brought you to his and Sam's to get you cleaned up and to check your wounds.

"Alright let me see your back," Dean said gently.

You shifted to lift the back of your shirt up, allowing Dean to see the claw marks on your lower back.

"Shit, those are deep," he muttered. "You're gonna need stitches."

"Great."

"I've got everything we need." He got up and grabbed his kit, pulling out the supplies he needed to stitch you up. "So I need unhindered access to your back."

You looked up at him, unsure of what he was saying.

He bit his lip and shifted his weight. "I, uh...I need you to take your shirt off."

Your eyes widened. "Absolutely not."

"I'm not trying to make it weird, but I need both hands to stitch, so I can't hold your shirt up too."

There was zero chance of you taking off your shirt in front of Dean fucking Winchester. Absolutely not. No way in hell. He looked like that and you...well you didn't like anyone to see you without a shirt off.

"How 'bout I lay down on my stomach and pull my shirt up so it's out of the way?"

He sighed. "Fine, it's a reasonable compromise."

You nodded gratefully and laid down on your stomach, but the moment you did, you cried out in pain and rolled onto your side.

Dean was beside you in an instant. "What's wrong?"

"Ribs," you muttered.

"Shit..." he paused for a moment. "(Y/N) please let me help you."

You looked up at him, tears filling your eyes--a mixture of pain and embarrassment.

"Hey," he said softly. "You're okay. I know it's not fun, but I need to get you stitched up before the cuts get infected."

You bit your lip and nodded. "Will you turn around until I'm ready?"

Dean offered you a soft smile. "Of course." He turned around and waited for you to tell him you were ready.

You moved slowly, lifting your shirt off over your head, inhaling sharply at the painful movements. A whimper left your lips, the pain forcing the sound out.

It took all of Dean's self-control to not turn around when he heard your soft whimper, but he'd promised to wait.

You balled your shirt up in front of you, using it to hide your stomach and as much of your chest as you could. "Okay," you whispered.

Dean turned around slowly, keeping his gaze on your face. He was very tempted to look down, but he knew it would be unwelcome. He settled onto the bed behind you and began to clean your wounds.

You hissed at the contact, wincing away from him.

"Sorry, sweetheart."

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head--shock settling into your bones at the sound of the pet name.

You tried to remain still as he continued cleaning, despite the pain that was radiating through your body.

"Alright, they're clean," Dean said gently. "Time for the stitches."

You tensed up as he gently placed his calloused hand against your skin.

"Just relax, okay? I've got you."

You did your best to relax and Dean started to stitch your skin back together. About halfway through, Sam arrived back at the motel.

"Yikes," Sam said when he saw the deep gashes on your back. "Those look gnarly."

"Yeah, it's not great," you muttered.

"Sorry, (Y/N/N)," Sam commented. "I brought your car back though." He held up the keys with an awkward smile.

"Thanks, Sam."

"Sammy, why don't you go round us up some food?" Dean requested.

Sam raised his eyebrows as he looked between you and Dean. "Alright, sure. What do you want?"

"Burgers and pie," Dean said immediately.

"(Y/N)?"

"Yeah, sounds good," you answered.

"Alright, I'll be back." Sam grabbed the Impala keys off the table and headed back out.

"You still with me, sweetheart?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, voice laced with pain and discomfort.

"I'll be done soon enough," Dean said gently. "Then onto the ones on your hip."

"Fuck," you muttered. You'd almost forgotten about the deep cuts on your hip, but the pain started back up at the mention of them.

"I'm going as quickly as I can without giving you some seriously hideous scars," Dean whispered.

You smiled a little at the sweetness of his words. "Thanks," you murmured.

Dean found himself fighting the urge to place a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder. He wanted to provide you comfort, but instead he was actively causing you pain--and he hated it.

After several more minutes of silence, Dean finished his last stitch. "All done."

You sighed gratefully. "Thank God."

"Actually, it's just Dean," he quipped lightly.

You laughed warmly, but the action hurt your ribs, causing a soft groan of pain.

"While I liked hearing you laugh, I'd rather not cause you more pain than I have to."

"Then don't make me laugh, Winchester," you teased.

He grinned. "I'm just naturally hilarious."

You chuckled again, trying to suppress the sound to prevent any pain.

"Alright, lose the pants."

"Excuse me?"

"I've gotta get to your hip somehow, sweetheart," he stated.

You groaned softly. The last thing you wanted to do was be essentially naked in front of him. "Fine, but I'm putting my shirt back on."

"Absolutely not. That thing is dirty and ruined. You're not putting it anywhere near those cuts." He started rummaging through his bag and he pulled out a flannel shirt. "Here, put this on."

You looked at him in disbelief. "I don't think I'm going to fit into your shirt."

He looked confused. "Of course you will. Just put it on."

You took the shirt from him, still convinced there was no way it would fit you. He was a large man, but you had a very full chest and soft stomach...you were used to not fitting into a man's clothing.

"Turn around," you whispered.

Dean sighed softly, but he turned around to give you the privacy you'd requested.

You pulled yourself up with a groan, tossing your dirty shirt onto the floor. You slowly pulled the flannel shirt on over your arms and nearly gasped in surprise when you realized that not only did the shirt fit you, but it was a little big on you. You buttoned the shirt quickly, feeling more than a little pleased at the way it fit. Plus, you couldn't help but notice the shirt smelled like Dean--like soap, leather, and a little bit of whiskey.

"Can I turn around now?"

"Oh...yeah."

He turned around and felt a tightening in his chest as he took in the image of you in his shirt. He didn't know he'd feel this way when he'd given you the shirt to wear, but damn--he couldn't help but notice how sexy you looked in his clothing.

"Told you it would fit," he said with a smirk. "Even looks big on you."

You blushed. "So you were right one time."

He laughed. "I promise it won't be the last."

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile remained on your lips.

"Now the pants."

"I am not taking off my pants, Winchester."

"How am I supposed to clean your wounds through your pants?"

You groaned. "God, this is embarrassing," you muttered.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart. I'm just trying to help."

You groaned a second time. "Fine," you grumbled.

Dean bit his lip and looked away. He needed you to stop making those damn sounds or he was going to lose his mind.

You looked up at him warily, making sure his gaze remained averted from you. You removed your pants as quickly as you could without causing yourself more pain. A few moments later, you were standing there in nothing but your underwear and Dean's shirt. Thankfully, the shirt was long enough that it covered you both in the front and back.

"You good?" he asked softly.

"Yeah...where--where do you want me?"

Dean groaned softly, desperately trying to keep his thoughts to himself. He didn't think you'd appreciate hearing where he really wanted you.

He kept his eyes trained on your face. "Lay down on your side so I can see your hip."

You swallowed thickly, feeling the change in the air of the room. You slowly lowered yourself onto the bed, shifting to lay on your side.

Dean grabbed a pillow. "Lift your head for me." You did as he asked and he slipped the pillow under your head to make it more comfortable for you.

He climbed onto the bed behind you and exhaled slowly, trying to keep his shit together. You looked gorgeous in his shirt, round ass barely peeking out from beneath it. He felt the strong urge to smack it, but he had a feeling you'd knock him out if he did.

"Damn," he whispered as he looked at the deep claw marks on your hip. "I think these are worse."

"Yeah, they don't feel great," you muttered softly.

"I'll try to be gentle."

Dean began to clean the wounds, sadness lacing its icy tendrils around his heart every time he heard you make a pained sound.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N/N)," he whispered.

"It's fine," you ground out. "Wait, did you just call me (Y/N/N)?"

He winced slightly. "I--uh--I did. Is that okay?"

You were quiet for a moment as you contemplated it. "Yeah...yeah it's okay."

He exhaled gratefully. He hadn't meant to call you a nickname--it had just kinda slipped out. He was glad it didn't upset you.

Dean had just started the stitches when Sam came back with food.

"Woah," Sam said as he caught a glimpse of the two of you on the bed--and you without pants.

"I'm stitching the wounds on her hip, you idiot," Dean said sharply.

"Oh--wait, why is she wearing your shirt?"

"Because hers was dirty, Samuel. Any more questions?"

Sam threw his hands up in defeat. "My bad--my bad."

"You better have brought me pie," Dean grumbled.

"I didn't forget the pie," Sam said in annoyance.

Your stomach suddenly grumbled loudly. "Apparently I'm starving," you said lightly.

"As soon as I'm done with the stitches, we can eat."

Sam held a container of fries out to you. "Want some?"

"Oh thank God," you muttered as you took the container from him.

"Quit moving," Dean admonished.

"Sorry," you said sheepishly. "Fry?"

He glanced at your extended hand and simply opened his mouth. You looked at him in confusion and he nodded to his hands. "I can't exactly grab it."

"Oh, right." You took a fry out of the container and held it out to him. He leaned forward and took the fry from your hand, a soft moan of enjoyment escaping his lips.

You felt a warmth spread through your lower body and your breathing became a little more labored. You swallowed thickly and averted your gaze, unable to look at him without blushing.

You continued eating your fries quietly as Dean finished stitching the cuts.

"All....done," Dean said softly as he finished the final stitch.

"Thank you," you said softly. You started to try and sit up and Dean grabbed you to help. "You're not gonna let me put my pants on, are you?"

Dean grinned ear to ear. "I mean, I do like you like this, but I'll let you put on pants--if you insist."

Your eyes widened slightly and you blushed deeply.

"But not your pants, of course," Dean said with a smirk. He dug into his bag again, producing a pair of well-worn sweats. "Here you go, sweetheart."

"Just because your shirt fits, doesn't mean your pants will."

He looked you up and down slowly. "Oh they'll fit, they'll just be a little long."

Sam looked back and forth between the two of you for a few moments. "Am I missing something here?"

"Nope," you both answered.

"Okaaaay..."

You leaned down to start pulling the sweatpants on and as you tugged them up your thighs, you realized Dean was once again correct. The damn things were gonna be loose.

You stood up slowly and pulled them up the rest of the way, tugging on the string to tighten them enough so they wouldn't sag. You looked down at your feet and chuckled at the fabric pooling around your feet.

"Need some help?" Dean asked lightly.

"Could you maybe roll up the bottoms? I don't wanna fall on my face."

He grinned. "It would be my pleasure."

He dropped to his knees in front of you, earning a gasp of surprise from you. He slowly rolled up one pant leg, looked up at you with a little smirk, then rolled up the second pant leg. He looked back up at you with the same expression on his face. "Better?"

You didn't trust your voice, so you simply nodded.

He pulled himself up, suddenly towering over you again. Your knees felt weak--and it had nothing to do with your injuries.

"Uhhh...dinner is getting cold..." Sam muttered awkwardly.

"Mhmm," Dean hummed, gaze still fixed on your face.

"We should probably eat," you whispered.

Dean's tongue slipped out of his mouth, wetting his lips. His gaze was almost hungry as he regarded you, a soft smirk gracing his handsome face. "I am quite hungry," he murmured. "Very, very hungry."

You felt your pulse quicken and your lips parted slightly. The way he was looking at you made you think he wasn't referring to a hunger for burgers or pie...but you knew that couldn't be possible. Dean Winchester didn't want you--not like that.

You took control of the situation, stepping around Dean to limp towards the table. Dean quickly slipped an arm around your waist to help you.

"I'm alright, Dean."

"I'm not letting you fall and worsen your injuries."

You smiled up at him as he guided you to a chair and gently lowered you into it. He sat down in the chair beside yours and grabbed a burger for each of you out of the bag.

Sam had already eaten his dinner, so he was just watching the interactions between you and Dean. It was obvious he was confused, and to be honest, so were you.

Last time you'd talked to Dean, he'd apologized for being a massive asshole, but this transition was completely unexpected. You didn't know how to address it, or frankly, how to feel about it.

Instead, you decided to ask a question that had been tickling the back of your mind. "So...how did you guys find me?"

"Oh, that was all Dean," Sam admitted.

"Well you're the one who identified this case," Dean said with a shrug.

"Yeah, but you figured out where the monster was taking its victims--and then we saw your car."

"When we got inside the warehouse, I heard you yell in pain and I just--well, I just took off," Dean said.

You looked at both of them with a warm expression. "Well, thanks for saving me."

"You already thanked me," Dean said softly. "Besides, we both owed you our lives."

"He's not wrong," Sam added.

"Well, I'm thankful either way."

"You're welcome, (Y/N/N)," Dean said with a warm smile.

Sam gave his brother a weird look before looking back at you. "You're welcome."

The three of you continued to eat your dinner in relative silence, Sam or Dean occasionally chatting with each other while you looked on.

You watched Dean quietly, really taking him in for the first time. He was so incredibly beautiful--almost painfully so. His eyes were so kind, so much kinder than they'd been when you'd met. More importantly, he seemed lighter--more whole, than before.

You felt a stirring in your chest as you gazed at him, hating yourself for it. You shouldn't have any feelings for him--you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself in that position and you certainly didn't want to be another notch on Dean Winchester's bedpost.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Dean asked softly, shaking you from your thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"You were staring at the side of my head," he said lightly.

"Oh, sorry. I completely zoned out."

"Don't worry about it. You're allowed."

The smile you gave him quickly turned into a yawn. "I suddenly got really tired. I think I'll go back to my room to sleep."

Dean practically jumped out of his chair. "I'll take you."

You gave him an odd look. "I think I can manage to limp my way three doors down."

"Well, I'd feel better if I went with you."

Your expression softened. "Alright, alright. Lemme get my shoes on."

Dean grabbed your boots and sat them in front of you, but when you bent down to get them on, you gasped as pain radiated from your bruised ribs.

"Here, let me help," Dean said gently.

You gladly accepted his help, allowing him to get your boots on both feet. He helped you out of your chair and Sam stood up as well. He hugged you gently, which you returned in kind.

"I'm glad you're okay," Sam whispered into your hair.

"Thanks, Sammy," you murmured.

He stepped back and gave his brother a look you couldn't decipher. "I'm gonna shower and then hit the hay."

"Sounds good. I'll be back in a bit," Dean said before taking your hand and helping you towards the door.

Once you were outside, Dean was instantly more protective of you. Either he was worried about you falling on the hard cement or something attacking you. Whichever one it was, his protectiveness warmed your heart.

"Want me to carry you again?" Dean teased lightly.

You smacked his arm affectionately. "I can walk on my own, Winchester. Slowly..."

He grinned. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."

"So about that...since when do you call me sweetheart?"

"Since today, I guess," Dean muttered.

"A pet name and a nickname in the same day...interesting."

"Interesting good or interesting bad?"

You looked up at him. "I haven't decided yet."

"Fair enough."

"This is it," you said as you stopped in front of your motel room. "Thanks for walking me over."

Dean gave you an odd look. "I'm not leaving you at the door, (Y/N)."

You chuckled. "I didn't wanna assume."

You unlocked the door and Dean helped you in. "Lemme check the room, okay?"

You watched Dean walk around the room, checking the closet and the bathroom for anything that might want to hurt you. Finding nothing, he came back into the room, much more relaxed than before.

"So no monsters in the closet?" you teased.

He smiled. "You're safe."

"I already felt safe," you said softly.

"Oh?"

You blushed and looked at the floor, a little embarrassed that those words had left your lips.

Dean crossed the space between you and slid a hand under your chin, lifting it gently to meet his gaze. "Are you saying I make you feel safe?"

His voice was soft and affectionate--it put you at ease. "Yes," you whispered honestly.

Dean smiled warmly. "That's the best thing you could ever say to me."

"Easy to please, I see," you joked lightly, trying to keep your cool.

"Not usually, but you seem to be an exception to the rule."

The way he was looking at you sent a warm feeling through your body and you felt heat pooling in your lower belly. His hand was still on your chin, but you wanted to feel it everywhere.

His thumb began to gently brush against your skin, hand sliding up to your cheek. You leaned into it and your eyelids fluttered closed for a moment. You felt dean's thumb brush gently against your lower lip and you inhaled sharply, eyes opening to meet his fiery gaze.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

You desperately wanted to say yes, everything in you was screaming to say yes...but you couldn't. You needed to know what his intentions were.

"What do you want from me?" you whispered.

He looked taken aback. "I thought that was obvious."

You took a step back and his hand dropped from your face. "I know your reputation...I don't wanna be just another one night stand or some story you tell the boys around the campfire."

He looked hurt--almost as if you'd slapped him. But he seemed to realize you were right...he did have a reputation. "I know it's hard to trust me...I haven't been good to you in the past, but this isn't some one night stand, pity sex thing. I want you. I want this."

"This?" you whispered.

"You're so damn strong, (Y/N). You're smart and funny, you're an amazing hunter and an even better woman. You're brave and selfless and so incredibly loyal. I'm sorry I didn't see it when we first met, but I see it now. I can see what Sam saw in you when we first met. I've spent the last 8 months thinking about you constantly. I want something real with you, (Y/N). It scares the hell out of me, but I need you in my life...if you'll have me."

You listened to his words and you heard the emotion in them. You could feel how much he cared about you--how deeply he meant what he was saying. "I never thought you'd want someone like me."

He looked confused. "Do you mean perfect? Because that's what you are to me."

You gasped softly. "What?"

"You're not a perfect person--none of us are, but you're perfect for me."

"Have you lost your mind? Any recent head injuries?"

Dean laughed lightly. "Nothing like that, baby. I want this--it's real for me."

"Why me?" you said so softly he almost didn't hear you.

"I think I just explained that, sweetheart," he said gently.

You gestured to your body as you said, "But I look like this--and you...you look like that."

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Don't you dare talk badly about your body, baby. Don't you dare."

Tears stung your eyes and you sniffled softly.

"Look at me sweetness," he said softly, taking your face in his hands. "I know I said some terrible things when we first met--some of them about your body. I said it because I knew it would hurt you--I could tell you had some insecurities and I played on them. I feel terrible for it--fucking awful. But I didn't really mean it, baby. I just wanted to hurt you. Please forgive me--please believe me."

The tears streamed down your face and he gently wiped them away.

"It's okay, beautiful. Talk to me."

You sniffed softly. "I forgive you, Dean...and I believe you."

He smiled warmly as he continued to wipe your tears. He stepped a little closer and placed soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and finally, your lips.

You leaned into the kiss, returning the affection in kind. When his lips left yours, he brushed the last tears from your face. "You wanna go to bed now, sweetheart?" he asked softly.

You smiled and shook your head. "I wanna get in bed, but I'm not feeling as tired now."

Dean smirked and his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him as gently as he could. "Oh really? And what would you like to do in bed?"

"I have a feeling you have some ideas."

"Oh baby, I have a lot of ideas...but you've been through a lot today. I don't wanna hurt you."

"I guess you'll just have to be really gentle," you whispered against his lips.

He groaned softly. "I can be gentle...I can be so fucking gentle."

You giggled softly and he smiled, pressing his lips against yours.

"I wanna manhandle the shit outta you just to prove to you that I can...but that'll have to wait until you've healed. For now, I want you to do exactly what I tell you to--and stop me if it hurts too much, okay?"

You nodded.

"Baby, I'm gonna need you to use those words."

"Yes, Dean," you murmured.

He pressed his body up against yours again and you could feel his erection against your abdomen. "You know, I just thought of something..."

"What's that?"

"I think that's the second time you've ever called me by my name."

"What? No--can't be."

"The first time was when you forgave me and then you just said it now...but you usually just call me 'Winchester'."

You thought about it for a moment and realized he was right. "I kinda like saying your name...Dean."

He groaned softly. "I fucking love it, baby. I'm gonna make you scream my name, pretty girl."

"We'll see," you teased.

"Is that a challenge?"

You grinned. "One hundred percent."

"Oh you are in for it now, gorgeous."

You laughed as he pressed his lips against yours before trailing kisses down your neck. He nipped at your pulse point and you moaned softly, earning a grunt of approval from Dean.

"Now remember," he murmured against your skin. "You promised to do what I tell you to, but if you wanna stop, just tell me, okay? I won't do anything you don't wanna do."

You sighed softly. "I trust you, Dean."

"Good," he whispered. "Now take off your clothes."

You gasped in surprise, but quickly started to unbutton your shirt. When it came time to take it off completely, you froze, the familiar discomfort sinking into your mind.

"Hey," he said gently. "Take off whatever you're comfortable with, sweetheart, but I want you to remember that I think you're sexy as hell, okay?"

You nodded and took a deep breath before sliding your shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes roamed your torso appreciatively.

"Can I take off your bra?" he asked softly.

"Yes."

He unhooked your bra with one hand, and gently pulled it forward, exposing your ample breasts to his hungry eyes. "Fuck..." he whispered.

You felt the strong urge to cover up, but you kept your arms at your sides, allowing Dean to take in every inch of skin he could see.

"You're so fucking gorgeous, (Y/N)."

You whimpered softly as his lips latched onto your nipple, one hand at the small of your back to hold you up and the other massaging your breast gently.

Your hands tentatively rested on Dean's shoulders, and you could feel the taunt muscles shift beneath his shirt. You desperately wanted to feel his skin against yours, so you curled your fingers into his shirt and tugged on it gently.

He released your nipple and looked up at you. "What is it, baby? What do you need?"

You bit your lip and shifted slightly. "I wanna feel your skin."

He chuckled softly. "Like this?" he asked as he ran his hands slowly down your sides.

You shook your head and reached for the hem of his shirt. As soon as your hand managed to touch it, he understood what you were asking. He stepped back and yanked his shirt off over his head.

As much as you wanted to feel his body against yours, you stopped him when he leaned back towards you. He looked a little saddened, misunderstanding your movement.

"I'm trying to appreciate perfection," you said softly.

He smiled and puffed out his chest slightly. "You're the perfect one, baby."

You looked up at him with a smile. "Take me to bed, Mr. Winchester."

He chuckled. "Yes ma'am."

He guided you over to the bed and he sat down on the edge, pulling you down with him. You straddled his lap and ground yourself down against his very prominent bulge.

You gasped into his mouth and he swallowed the soft sounds you made. He grabbed ahold of your hips, careful to avoid the wounds on your left one.

"I think you should lose the pants, baby--underwear too."

You pulled yourself off of him, stepping back to slowly peel off your pants and underwear. Your hands were shaking slightly, nervous about being completely naked in front of him. When you stood back up, you found Dean's gaze glued to your body, eyes tracing every inch of you he could see.

He reached out to touch you, but you took a step back, making him look up at you in surprise.

You smirked slightly, feeling emboldened by the obvious desire in his eyes.

"Baby..." he said softly. "Come here."

You shook your head. "Not until you're naked too."

He raised an eyebrow at you, but a small smirk danced across his lips. He liked your commanding voice--he was almost surprised by how much it turned him on.

He stood up, eyes never leaving your face. He slowly took off his jeans, stepping forward to get out of them. He hooked his fingers into his boxers and lowered them slowly, keeping eye contact with you the entire time.

You inhaled sharply as you took in his size--much larger than you were accustomed to. Your eyes flicked back up to his and his smirk had widened slightly.

"Like what you see, pretty girl?"

"Very much, but I'm a little...concerned."

"About what?"

You looked down at his cock and back up at his face. "You're a little...large."

He laughed softly. "I'll be gentle."

"I'm more concerned about it not fitting."

He grinned. "That should not make me feel so good," he chuckled. "It'll fit, sweetheart. You'll see."

"I trust you."

He smiled and took a step towards you, arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer. He kissed you softly, hands roaming your skin, loving the feeling of your softness. "Fuck, baby--I wanna taste you. I need to."

You gasped softly as two of his fingers gently swiped between your pussy lips, collecting some of your slick. He brought the fingers to his mouth and sucked on them, a soft moan slipping from his lips.

"You taste delicious, sweetness. I want more."

He pulled you down onto the bed with him, tugging your body on top of him. You kissed him passionately, as you ground your hips against his cock.

He groaned into your mouth and his hands traveled up your back, massaging soft circles into your skin.

"Come up here, baby," he begged.

You pulled back, staring at him in confusion. "I don't understand."

He gently caressed your thighs. "I wanna taste you--come sit on my face."

"Do you have a death wish?"

He looked surprised. "What?"

"I'll smother you, Dean."

He rolled his eyes. "Then I'll die an extremely happy man. Suffocate me between those thick, sexy thighs, baby."

Your eyes widened, but you were more than a little intrigued by the concept. You'd never been asked to sit on anyone's face before and you'd certainly never suggested it. You had to admit, you'd always wanted to try it.

"Are you sure?"

"Fuck yeah, babe."

"Okay," you agreed softly.

Dean gently guided you towards his face, helping you straddle his head. His left hand gripped your right hip and he laid his right hand on your left thigh.

"Put my hand above your cuts so I can hold onto you," he requested softly.

You took his right hand and placed it just above the deep gashes on your left hip.

"Good girl," Dean praised. "Now have a seat and let me feast on you."

You lowered yourself onto his mouth, but didn't quite sit down. Instead of admonishing you, Dean dug his fingers into your flesh and tugged you down firmly.

You cried out in a mixture of surprise and pleasure as his tongue slipped through your folds. Dean groaned loudly as he began to devour you.

You had never in your life felt pleasure like Dean was giving you in this moment. The sounds that his ministrations pulled from your lips were absolutely sinful. Your legs had already begun to shake and you were gripping the headboard like your life depended on it.

"Dean, I'm so close," you gasped.

He moaned into your core and his fingers dug further into your flesh, blunt nails scraping against your skin. He didn't stop his actions--the desire to feel you cum outweighing his need to breathe.

Within moments, you cried out as your orgasm washed over you, your thighs squeezing his head tightly. Dean continued working you through your orgasm until you started to squirm away from him. He finally let you go and you leaned back onto his chest as you tried to catch your breath.

Dean moved you as gently as he could, shifting you to straddle his hips as he pulled himself into a sitting position, feet planted firmly on the floor beside the bed. He pulled you against his chest and brushed his fingers through your hair.

"You okay, baby?" he asked softly, lips pressed to your forehead.

"More than okay," you mumbled into his chest.

He chuckled softly as he held you against him, loving the feeling of your softness beneath his fingers.

After a few more moments, you sat up and bit your lip. "Dean?"

He smiled at you. "Hmm?"

"I want you to fuck me."

His eyes widened slightly and he shifted his hips under you, brushing his cock against your core. "I'm happy to oblige," he teased softly.

You sighed as he kissed you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned into the kiss and his hands slid down your body, lifting you slightly so he could line himself up with your entrance.

"Are you sure you wanna do it in this position?" you asked quietly.

"It's the only position where I can pleasure you, hold you close, and avoid hurting you. So yeah, baby, I'm sure."

You looked into his beautiful green eyes and smiled warmly. You could feel how much he cared about you and it warmed your soul.

"You ready?" he whispered.

"I'm ready."

He held his cock firmly, letting you take the lead as you slowly lowered yourself down onto him. By the time you'd lowered yourself completely, you were both breathless.

The stretch was incredible--unlike anything you'd ever experienced. You swore you could feel him in your lower belly--you'd never felt so full.

Dean leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavily as he let you adjust to his size.

"You can move now," you whispered.

"Just one moment, sweetheart, I--I need a moment."

"Are you okay?"

He looked up at your pretty face and smiled. "I'm fucking phenomenal, babe...but your pussy feels so goddamn incredible, so tight and warm--I just need a second to control myself."

You blushed at his praise, warmth rushing through your body at his words. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then his jaw, before finding the sweet spot on his neck that made him moan.

His hands dug into your flesh as he started to roll his hips against yours. You gasped softly against his skin, pleasure washing over you.

"Hold onto me, sweetheart," Dean murmured softly.

You did as he asked, clinging tightly to his shoulders and tightening your thighs against his.

Dean wrapped his arms around you, careful not to hold you too tightly or touch your stitched wounds. He pressed his lips softly against your collarbone as he rolled his hips again.

He gave you less than a second to get comfortable before he began to thrust up into you in earnest. His feet were planted firmly on the floor, allowing him to piston up into you.

"Dean!" you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.

Each thrust was calculated and hard, making your body shiver with pleasure. He shifted slightly, pulling you more firmly into his chest, which changed the angle of his thrusts. The new angle allowed him to hit your g-spot with each thrust.

You moaned loudly and dug your nails more firmly into his shoulders and back.

"There it is," Dean murmured against your soft skin. "Feels so good, baby."

"Don't stop," you pleaded.

"I have no intention to."

His thrusts sped up to an almost shocking speed and your whole body vibrated with pleasure. You could feel your orgasm quickly approaching, but you couldn't voice it. The pleasure overwhelmed your mind--rendering you speechless.

"You close baby? I can feel you squeezing me."

In response, you nipped at his shoulder and moaned into his skin.

He chuckled lightly. "That's it, pretty girl. I want you to cum for me--wanna feel you cum all over my cock."

You whimpered softly, "Please."

"I've got you, baby. Let go for me."

Your legs had begun to shake and you cried out in pleasure as your orgasm slammed into you with surprising force. You called his name as he worked you through it, thrusts beginning to falter as he chased his own high.

"I'm close, baby," he whispered against your throat.

You used what strength you had left to clamp down onto his cock, squeezing him as tightly as you could.

"Oh--fuck," Dean gasped. He began to cum inside you, coating your walls with his seed. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder to keep himself from crying out at the intensity of his orgasm.

You relaxed your body against him as his thrusts slowed to a stop, forehead resting against his shoulder as you tried to catch your breath.

Dean's arms were still wrapped around you, holding you close to him as he came down from his high. He placed soft open mouthed kisses to your skin and whispered sweet nothings.

Dean began to shift his body as his member softened inside you. You whimpered softly, body too sensitive for any kind of movement.

"Sorry, sweetheart. You okay?"

You nodded. "I'm okay, just a little sore."

He grinned wolfishly. "That makes me feel good."

You laughed softly and smacked his arm affectionately. "It's a little bit of you and a little of that whole monster fight from earlier."

He made a pouty face, which only made you laugh more. The increased laughter hurt your sore ribs and you winced at the pain.

"Shit, sorry sweetheart."

"Not your fault."

He brushed your hair back from your face so he could look at you better. "You look so sexy right now, baby."

You blushed. "I look like I had the shit beat out of me."

"Nah, you look like you just got well and properly fucked," he teased.

You chuckled slightly. "It was quite nice, I must say."

He grinned. "Just you wait until you're all healed up--I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't be able to walk straight for days."

You gasped. "Oh my."

He licked his lips and kissed you softly. "I could kiss you all night long."

"As much as I would love that, I think we should take a shower. I'm exhausted."

"Alright, pretty girl." Dean stood up, still holding you. You wrapped your legs around his waist to avoid falling to the ground. "I've got you, (Y/N/N)."

You looked down at him. "I know."

He smiled and kissed you gently. "Shower, then bed."

"Yes, sir."

"Oo," he said happily. "I like that."

You grinned. "I'll keep that in mind for later."

Dean grinned back at you. "You're gonna be in for a wild ride, sweetness."

"Is that a promise?"

"Absolutely."

After your shower, Dean carried you back to your bed and laid you down gently. He crawled into the bed beside you and pulled you close so your head was resting on his chest.

He kissed the top of your head and ran his fingers up and down your arm. "I want you to come with us," he said suddenly.

"What?" you asked in surprise as you looked up at him.

"I want you to come hunt with Sam and I...permanently."

"Are you--are you sure?"

"I told you this was real for me, baby. I want to try this with you, and that means you should be with me. I mean--if you want."

You smiled at him and touched his cheek gently. "I would love to go with you."

He grinned happily and kissed you sweetly. "Excellent. I'm sure Sam won't mind."

"As long as we get our own room, I'm sure he won't," you teased.

He laughed. "Oh yeah, we're gonna need that."

You smiled and kissed his chest softly. You yawned and curled further into him, exhaustion finally weighing you down.

"Go to sleep baby. I'll be right here when you wake up," Dean whispered.

You fell fast asleep in Dean's arms and he watched you for a while before sleep finally came to him. He hadn't felt so full and happy in a long time and it was one hundred percent because of you. He felt honored you were willing to give a relationship with him a chance, despite everything that had happened between the two of you in the past. He was determined to do everything he could to make sure you never regretted that decision.

Buy Me a Coffee 💜

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester x plus size reader smut #supernatural #supernatural smut

[backwzzds]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ RORONOA ZORO AS A FATHER…

zoro would be one those fathers that most people assume would be terrible, but unsurprisingly, he’s very good with kids, as told canonically.

he’ll only have one daughter. he can’t handle anymore brats.

when your daughter was born, he’d bought up possibly naming her after his late childhood best friend. you knew how much she meant to him, so it was no problem making sure your daughter carried on her name, and hopefully her future dream. roronoa kuina.

lots of people assume zoro’s a strict dad, but most days, he’s pretty chilled back.

he came off as not having any interest in learning how to do kuina’s type 3-4 hair, but when you secretly caught him watching a youtube video as he practiced on one of your wig mannequins you knew he wanted to learn from the start

when kuina’s a toddler, you teach him how to do simple styles on her hair. to detangle from the bottom, always make sure her hair was moisturized, and just learn the small things about her. like how she was tenderheaded—something she inevitably inherited from you.

he’ll take her to get braids from the african aunties whenever you’re busy or stuck at work. kuina, already knowing the routine would sit on the chair and zoro’s big body would be squeezed between two parents talking on the phone for nearly nine hours straight, occasionally heading out to grab some food for himself and kuina. the things he would do for that girl.

kuina would be in the big chair swinging her little feet as she watched youtube video’s on her daddy’s phone. she’d always smile at the fact that you were his lock screen and she was his home screen—a picture of him coddling with her to sleep when she was just a baby. lord knows how much them two love they sleep!

he’d be so overprotective, he would teach kuina her parents’ full name, address, emergency phone numbers, and everything in between by the time she’s 6. no stranger would ever had a chance to mess with the daughter of roronoa zoro.

despite his off putting (and quite rude) personality, he’d be the best one to give advice. only to you and his little kuina though. most wouldnt even consider it advice, but baby kuina always loved it when her daddy told her what he thinks she should do in a troubling situation.

“papa what do you think i should do?” the little girl frowns. “i really think i hurt the girl’s feelings. but i didn’t mean to!”

zoro pops his one good eye open from its closed resting position as he sat on the couch with his arms folded. “are you sorry?”

kuina gives him solemn eyes and nods her head. “really sorry.”

with a quick whit, zoro answers straight, “apologize. don’t make the situation about you. she’s the one you hurt, make sure she realizes that you know that.”

kuina allows her father’s words to sink in her brain in order to fully process everything he’d said. when a bright idea comes to her head, she wraps her arms around her father and places a wet kiss on his cheek, yelling, “thank you papa!” before skipping off to make amends with her friend.

would sueprise teachers and parents when he shows up to some PTA’s alone. you were caught up at work, so zoro took up parental volunteering opportunities on his own. of course, he only did these things for you and kuina, so he didn’t care that the single parents were eye goggling him with lust. not when kuina bragged to all her friends about how cool her dad was.

zoro tries to create an emotion-based home. he doesn’t want kuina growing up in a cold home like you and him did, so he always made it his best to publicly express his emotions or whatever he was feeling at home. he made sure kuina saw him love on you in order to see and know that her parents always loved each other—not just for show—and made sure that she knew it was okay to express her own emotions because she was a lot like him, more than he’d have liked.

when he catches kuina stiffile in her cry about him having to miss a chunk of her school play due to a very heinous and reaosnable excuse (traffic was a bitch), he pulls her off to the side and allows her space to express how she feels.

“you can cry. it’s okay to cry, marimo.” zoro kneels down to kuina’s height as she hangs her head low, too embarrassed to look up and reveal her tears. the one bond they had, was him calling her marimo because if you looked at the both of them—they were damn near identical twins. you were convinced your genes didn’t even fucking try to make it to the egg on time. only he could call her that though. that was their thing.

zoro gives her a genuine apology. he hated seeing his pretty princess cry, but he knew she had to do it. “i’m sorry. i got here as quick as i could, hm? i’d never miss anything about you on purpose.”

at the sound of her father’s soft voice, kuina looks up and wipes away some of her tears. “you promise papa?” her voice is sultry as you wipe at your back, heart warming at the beautiful wholesome interaction between the two.

behind zoro’s back were a mini bouquet of flowers and candy. “course i do kid. c’mere, i’m gonna make it up to you.”

lord knows zoro wasn’t the best father. he didn’t even think he was a good father—this was all new to him. but sometimes, he’d liked to believe that what he was doing in the present was enough to give kuina the future he never got to have.

#lora’s fics! ೄྀ࿐ #dad!zoro #one piece dads #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x black reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x chubby reader #zoro x black reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x chubby reader #zoro imagine #one piece imagine #one piece zoro

[nunalastor]

I know it's not how it would work in canon because it would be way too easy of a solution but I find myself constantly thinking about this silly idea of Lucifer being able to fuck with contracts. He's the boss of hell so why not? Like he's basically the big cartoonish ceo who can just destroy a contract just because he wants to and there's nothing the overlord who made it can do about it :)

Imagine Angel complaining about Valentino one night and after like an hour of hearing about how much this guy sucks Lucifer just pulls out his contract out of fucking nowhere is like "christ this shit is terrible" and nonchalantly rips it up. And there's a beat, where everyone is just silently staring at Lucifer, who really has no fucking clue of how big a deal that was, and then all hell breaks loose

Charlie's going on and on about how amazing this is I had no idea you could DO that dad, Husk is shaking Lucifer by the shoulders trying to convince him to do the same for him before Alastor can try and stop him, Angel called Val and is loudly cussing him out because FUCK YOU BITCH CAN'T MAKE ME DO SHIT NOW, Nifty is yelling because everyone else is doing it, Vaggie is trying to get all this shit under control and Lucifer's just fucking befuddled

Meanwhile Alastor's off to the side, staring at Lucifer and rubbing his temples, debating on what means more to him, his freedom or his pride

😭😭

#hazbin hotel #nunalastor asks #alastor #lucifer morningstar #soul contracts #charlie morningstar #husk #angel dust #valentino

[tizeline]

The Sep AU is super interesting, like it grabbed my brain and does not want to let go-

I find it interesting how from the Drax Trios innitial perspective everything Donnie is just justifies their opinion more-

Donnies dark aesthetic, murderous humor, dangerous machines, deadpan attitude and lack of liking of magic combined with his alleged backstory and being friends with a human? U could really argue he got indoctrinated into being a villainous mad scientist or smth. They don't know that that's just him, Donnie TM. I can absolutely see them being worried that "Long lost brother" got brainwashed so badly and how annoying that could be for Donnie himself lol

I'm also curious on Donnies relationship with Splinter. Is it better than in canon or similar to Canon or worse? Since in Canon Donnie is craving parental approval, does he still here?

Thank u for (potentially) answering :)

First of all, "Drax Trio", thank you, I needed an easier way to refer to specifically Raph, Leo and Mikey in this AU so I'm gonna steal that

Second, yeah, Donnie acting like a cartoon villain is really just cementing the Drax Trio's idea that he's been corrupted by humans. You know Draxum's villain song in the show? I can totally see Donnie putting on a perfomance like that XD Speaking of Draxum, to be fair he's very alike Donnie in the way that he's fully embracing the whole Evil Scientist aesthetic, but in that case his sons would just excuse it with "oh haha dad's just a bit silly goofy don't worry about it it's not like he's actually evil!"

Anyway, you know how Mikey basically forced Draxum into having a redemtion arc in the show? He'd try to do the same with Donnie in this AU. I've been thinking about this for a while so I'm defintiely gonna draw it, but he's constantly going full Dr. Feelings mode trying to teach Donnie how to be a "good person" and such and Donnie finds it INCREDIBLY annoying!

And Splinter! Being a single parent taking care of a child who was created to be a super soldier while living in the sewers is HARD, but not nearly as hard as taking care four of them at the same time under the same conditions. So while Splinter is still dealing with depression and burn out in this AU, he's doing better than what he is in canon. For years Splinter and Donnie would literally only have each other, so they'd end up growing closer as a result. That being said, because Donnie didn't have any siblings to spend time with, he'd end up demanding a lot more attention from Splinter. Which he didn't always recieve, because his dad is still very much dealing with a lot of emotional baggage. To summarize, Splinter is still a flawed parent, but he's not terrible by any means, he and Donnie are close, but Donnie is also a lot more lonely (especially before meeting April).

#Tiz Sep AU #tizel talk #tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt au

[scintillyyy]

there's always something a bit funny to me in the idea that jack and janet taught tim these weird robotic "society manners" whatever those are but the way they're described is always like. that would be the most weird and offputting way to interact with a human being ever & would be just terrible for networking purposes.

(now i do think that tim would be a great natural networker on account of 1) he is one, canonically and 2) he's got a lot of traits that good networkers generally have--he's good with people in general, he's naturally extroverted, good at small talk, has an eye for and good ability to remember details, and is generally likable. i also think this did come from his parents but not in a weird gotta train the business baby way. more in a that's kind of what he grew up around way--jack (when not being a shitty dad) is also shown to be a kind of boisterous, generally likable, good at small talk, etc and tim growing up in boarding school meant growing up and living with peers with plenty of chance to practice social interactions & hone skills like small talk and conversation)

#'he'd be a weird polite robot-' #he would be friendly and genuine so jot that down #and it wouldn't seem excessively weird because it might be a tad more polite than when he interacts with family #it's just probably a politer version of how he is lmao #anyways polite conversation isn't just polite and unpleasant and it wouldn't be a huge burden for tim (dick either tbh)

[alyakthedorklord]

I’m having dramatic thoughts about Damian being born to Fem!Bruce ok I’m having THOUGHTS

(TW for alluding to Damian’s conception being nonconsensual)

Okay so set the stage of our Drama- Fem!Bruce (or just AFAB idc) is out on patrol or something and League Parent (Either Talia as in canon, or Ra’s if we’re feeling the creepy old man tonight) drops Damian off with “Hey, watch our son that you birthed and then I stole and let you think was dead for ten years, there’s some infighting in the league.”

(If we’re using Ra’s as dad then Talia is absolutely trying to kill Damian for the position of heir)

Bryce is, understandably, shocked. Her other children? Even more so. Because what do you mean you had a biological child? How did we not know about this?!

Damian isn’t old enough to be pre-robin unless he was cryogenically frozen. Did Bryce really hide a whole fucking pregnancy from them?

Dick is screaming, Jason shows up because he has to see this shit for himself, Bryce is standing in silence, staring at the results of every single test she can think of to confirm that yes, this is her son, this is her Damian, all the info matches up…

Tim tries to speak up, but Jason just turns on him, asking if he’s ready to be replaced too. Bryce didn’t even have to go looking this time!

Tim looks him dead in the eye and points out the birthdate(and death date) on file for Damian Wayne.

It’s exactly eight days before Jason was taken in.

How did Dick and Jason not know about this?

Because they weren’t there.

In the short period of time when Dick was striking out on his own, and before Bryce picked up Jason, League Baby Daddy of your choosing shows up and takes advantage. A simple greeting, a spiked drink, a blurry night, and a pregnancy test later…

Bruce is, as always, in any universe, is terrible at communication. But honestly she can be excused in this case. How exactly do you tell your wayward son ward that, after chasing him off because he was “being reckless” and “putting himself in danger,” you’ve gone and gotten taken advantage of, trusted someone that you had absolutely ZERO business trusting, and now you’re pregnant with an Al Ghul baby? And you’ve decided to keep it? That this isn’t you replacing him or demanding he return, because you understand his need for space, but also you desperately want him back with you because you’re scared but you can never admit it?

How do you do that in a text? Because Dick is not answering the phone.

You don’t. Thats a conversation you have face to face. So the messages Bryce leaves are all “there are some changes and i’d like to talk to you” “there may be a new member of the family soon” “please answer me chum”

Dick doesn’t answer.

Meanwhile, Gotham crime is being weird because “hey robins gone! Dynamic duo is out!” And Bryce is being careful because of her belly and sometimes she has to take breaks and hormones are bullying her and nothing is going her way right now.

And them she goes into labor too soon.

And something goes wrong (League Baby Daddy happens) and she’s told her baby is dead, and now she’s lost two children.

She recovers, and goes back out onto the streets, taking her rage and pain out on the criminals that got a little too bold with her in a hospital bed…

And then there’s a street rat jacking the tires off the Batmobile.

The fucking audacity. The guts. The challenge in his bright blue eyes, the sneer on his lips, the shaggy black hair. Skin just a bit darker than hers, not quite an Al Ghul’s deep olive but somewhere in the middle.

Is this what her Damian would have looked like? Is this what her son would have grown up to be?

Maybe its the hormones, maybe she’s projecting. She knows its a bad idea, but Bryce takes the kid home. Alfred gives her a knowing and slightly disapproving look, but accepts the new child with open arms, because there’s worse things. Jason fits in easily, and soon enough, Batman has a Robin again, and Bryce is smiling again, and begins to heal from the pain of losing Damian.

But Dick? Dick is PISSED.

Upon seeing news of a new Robin/Wayne, he finally looks though his messages, and comes to the wrong conclusion that Bryce was looking for a kid to replace him this whole time. She might have tried to get his input, but had eventually made a decision like this without him. And so he’s back, and he’s angry, and Bryce gets defensive because Jason is a good kid and she can’t use her dead baby to win an argument, not when the wound is so fresh.

So life continues. Jason dies, comes back, is angry because he listened in on a few arguments and now ALSO thinks Bryce actively hunted him down to be Robin, and now she’s done the same with Tim.

Bryce keeps quiet, because how is she supposed to explain after all these years? Jason is right to be angry. She let her emotions get the better of her and dragged a sweet boy into her life. The loss of all three if her children was her own fault, because she put him into the line of fire. There’s no excuse for that.

So years pass. Tempers settle somewhat, Bryce holds her grief close to her chest because she can’t do that to her children, but… then Damian is back. And it all explodes.

The story comes out in bits and pieces. Tim figures out a timeline based on the rest of the info in the file, and Bryce and Alfred slowly fill it in.

And like- they’re all still angry, and it is justified, because what the fuck, Bryce. But also…

Dick is horrified. He had been so angry, so so angry, reading those messages that he now knows, with this new information, were a cry for help. Bryce had been desperate and scared and wanted nothing more than to just talk to him after their fight, and when he had come back after something like this had happened he had immediately started another fight.

Jason isn’t sure how to feel. He hadn’t been taken in to be a replacement soldier, he had been taken in to be a replacement son. What is he supposed to do with that? Knowing that Bryce had seen him at his worst, and taken him in and shoved down her grief to help him?

Tim is wondering if every time Bryce backed away with an unreadable expression, it hadn’t been keeping herself emotionally distant, it was grief for the sons she had lost.

Steph is realizing that Bruce wasn’t lying, when Steph had to give her own baby up and Bryce had hugged her and said “I understand.”

Damian is sitting in a corner wondering what the ever-loving FUCK is going on. Why is everyone crying this is pathetic. Father take him home he prefers the threat of imminent death.

#batfam #dc prompt #bruce wayne #jason todd #damian wayne #fem!bruce wayne #bryce wayne #damian is also having complicated feelings but he is REPRESSING those at the moment #thank you #ngl kinda digging ras as dad and talia as half sister #don’t get me wrong brutalia happpened #but ra’s is dad #talia is not happy about any of this #can you blame her #culmiates in damian confronting his half sister/moms ex girlfriend #after she hunts him down to solidify her place #/avenge the violation that was damian’s birth #and damian’s like #keep the league of assassins i’m good #staying with mom #talia: ah. my beloved has gotten to you too then. well. i’m not sure how i feel about this. #the entire batfam: Neither are we! #long post

[rawrsatthetree]

I see too many people bitch about all the dad Astarion headcannons and fic.

1. Just don’t read them not everything is for you.

2. The main complaints being “Astarion would be a terrible parent” “he wouldn’t want kids” are completely irrelevant. I never want children and would be a horrible parent, most parents didn’t want kids and are really bad at being parents. The act of having a child isn’t some moral Christian heteronormative propaganda. Pregnancy is a natural biological condition that sometimes just happens. Sometimes having a kids is two adult who are really into each other with compatible organs that are bad at planning and considering the consequences of their actions. Sometimes having a kids is an “oh shit we fucked up” and deciding to deal with the consequence because you love each other and are delusional enough to convince yourselves that maybe this accident was just meant to be. Maybe only one parent is excited and the other loves them enough to suck it up and try with them.

3. The other whining I see are people saying “for a canonically queer character why are there so many heteronormative headcanons”. For someone that’s preaching queer inclusion you just erased a lot of trans people that aren’t women that can still get pregnant. And Astarion being canonically pan means he can be attracted to any sex or gender which includes people with uteruses that can get pregnant. Also fan creators can write whatever they want, if they’re cis women they can write about that all they want. You can always add key words and tags to filtering so you don’t see it.

#you’re the one that sounds like a puritan babe #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate #dadstarion #bg3 fandom critical

[robintherobiner]

Hate when I read a 'bad-parent-bruce-wayne' fic and all the kids immediately start hating him and leave the manor the second they find out, especially if he's only a bad parent to one of them because thats not how it works

They'd probably be outraged, yes, but they're all terribly loyal to Bruce. I think they'd be confused, in denial, maybe even aggressive in their defensiveness. They'd comfort their sibling, of course they would. They'd be angry at Bruce, yelling and cussing. But they'd probably also ask questions. They'd try to assure themselves that no, Bruce would never do that, not without a good reason too!

Please remember that a majority of the batfam had terrible parents, which means they're far more likely to forgive Bruce because he's 'not as bad'. Please remember that a person doesn't just change their opinion of a loved one within seconds, no matter how cruel they turn out to be. Please remember that, canonically, Bruce is a terrible parent, and his children have never really stayed angry at him, despite the man definitely deserving it.

I want more fanfics where they show the realistic back-and-forth that people have when they find out their parents are bad. Show the denial, the anger, the victim-blaming, and then the inevitable acceptance of being hurt and the process of moving on.

I want more fanfics where some siblings go non-contact and others visit on weekends and others have daily calls and none of them shit on each other for having different reactions, because it's valid to still want to see your dad, even if he's a bad person, just as its valid to want to change your name and never see him again.

#is it obvious i have daddy issues #dc comics #dc universe #batman comics #batfamily #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #tim drake #stephanie brown #duke thomas #damian wayne #rant post