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alissasrandomstuff · 2 months

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Two Broken Souls

Alright, I've thought about this quite a while and I believe this is a situation which could actually happen. Billy is an asshole, yes, but he's also a broken boy. Maybe, if you somehow manage to peek beneath his bad boy-facade, you can see the real Billy Hargrove. Because I do somehow believe that there's something good inside him. English is not my first language, so please be kind and ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes! Word Count: 3.4k Content Warning: mentions of abuse and suicide, angst, mentions of alcoholism, language

Plot: After you and Billy accidentally discover how painfully similar your back stories are, you begin to warm up with each other. Both dealing with an abusive father, you start to seek comfort in each other, getting closer together than originally anticipated.

Billy was a broken boy. You always thought he was because of the way he acted towards everyone. He was an asshole, never treated anyone fairly, especially not women. So, you originally wanted to stay away from him, refusing to be one of his little toys. And it worked, he was never able to make a move on you. Until you got to know Max a lot better. You started hanging out with her, she was a great friend even if she was three years younger than you.

The first time you went to her house was when she wanted to attend the Snow Ball and asked you to make your hair. You were a little hesitant since it also meant you could meet Billy, but still, you decided to go and do this favor for Max. When you arrived at the house and got invited by Max’s mother, there was no sight of Billy. You talked with Max and had a great time while braiding her hair. She enjoyed spending time with you, was happy to finally have someone similar to the big sister she never had, and she admired how easy the way you braided her red hair looks. Still, she was a little insecure about this ball, and whether she should really go or not. You gently smiled at her and made sure that she realized how pretty she is. And really, Max looked adorable in her fit for the Snow Ball.

Just when you secured the last braid of Max’s hair, someone stepped into the hallway behind you, you can see it through the mirror. And when your eyes met Billy’s, it took you a lot of strength not to react. But instead of saying anything, his gaze just wandered to Max and back to you before he walked off silently, confusing you even more.

“The hell is wrong with Hargrove?” you muttered to yourself, but Max heard you.

“Taught him a lesson when he wanted to force me to come back here. I hope he finally respects me more,” she answered quietly and now you looked her in the eyes through the mirror, a little surprised.

“Taught him a lesson?” you asked and Max nodded, a hint of pride visible in her eyes.

“Yep, I nearly smashed his balls with a baseball bat, threatened to do it if he won’t leave me alone,” she explained as if it’s nothing and you couldn’t help but laugh at her braveness.

“You’re one of a kind, Max,” you laughed and gently rubbed her back, then gestured her that she’s finished.

“You can go and get your mom, you’ll have to leave soon to not be too late.”

Max got up, but looked at you a little sad.

“Why don’t you come with me? It would be more fun with you around,” she said, but you shook your head, declining gently.

“No no, I don’t like stuff like this. You go and have fun, it will be awesome, I know it,” you assured her and finally, she left to get her mother. You originally wanted to leave together with Max and her mother and then drive back home, but halfway out of the door, you realized you forgot your jacket. So, you said goodbye to the two women and walked inside the house again to look after your piece of clothes. Just when you found it, you could hear loud voices. You froze in your spot, easily recognizing one of the voices as Billy’s and the other one you believed was from his father. You hesitated, not meaning to invade their privacy, but from what you could hear the two say and the volume they argued at, you were a bit worried. So, you silently walked up the stairs of the house towards where you believed the argument was located. Right when you step into the doorframe of Billy’s room, you froze on the spot. You were greeted by a scene of violence, Billy’s father Neil grabbing Billy’s arm tightly and slapping him across the face, scolding the boy for how he apparently misbehaved a few minutes ago downstairs. When you saw Neil hitting his son, instant flashbacks flooded you and you couldn’t help but just stare. Billy was the first to spot you, and his eyes widened. Neil also looked over his shoulder and realized that you saw his punishment on Billy, instantly letting go of him.

“What on earth are you doing here?” Neil asked infuriated, and you slowly came back to reality, looking at Neil shocked.

“I think the better question is, what on earth are you doing with Billy?!” you asked instead of answering, making Neil even more angry with this.

“It’s none of your business how I educate my son,” he wanted to divert attention from the scenery you all are in, and you shook your head disbelievingly.

“Wha- educate? What you’re doing to him has fucking nothing to do with education!” you blurted out, anger now visible in your own eyes. Neil raised a finger at you, as if he wanted to threaten you as well.

“Watch the way you’re talking to me, child. Show me some goddamn respect!”

You laughed out, shaking your head at his audacity.

“To people like you that are abusing their children? Oh, I talk to you the way I fucking want to, you don’t deserve any kind of respect from me!” you spat right back at him and could see from the look in his eyes that he really wanted to teach you a lesson there, too. But he couldn’t do that. If he would have, he’d be in real trouble, and he knew. That’s why he stayed silent and just looked at you furious.

“I’ll handle it, sir. Let me handle this,” Billy intervened and walked towards you, eventually guiding you outside and to your car.

“Tell anyone about this and I’ll kill you myself,” was what he said back then, and you never thought that incident would actually bring you two closer together. But from that day on, yours and Billy’s looks had crossed several times throughout the day, and you knew he was making sure that you kept your mouth shut. You did, you never told anyone, not even Max. And after a while, Billy slowly began to ease at your knowledge, somehow trusting you with the information you had. He nodded at you when you met in the hallways at school or when you saw each other at the parking lot, and you always just nodded back, it almost became a habit of the two of you. But that was it, nothing else happened.

Until he found out about your family, as well. It was by accident, he was on his way to a date and drove past your house, not even realizing it at first. But then, he saw your car outside, and you together with your father. You were screaming at your old man, furious about how drunk he was again already, when that man grabbed you by the hair and pulled you inside your house. Billy instantly took a turn and stopped at your house, going inside and saving you from a beating of your father. He refused to leave you alone, took you with him in his Camaro to a spot a little outside of Hawkins, and there, you told him everything. How your mother died by suicide, how your father abused not only you but used to do it with your mother as well, how drunk your father always was. And how you always tried to act like it didn’t bother you at all. You always tried to keep a steady composure, act like you’re perfectly fine. And until that day, nobody knew that you had to deal with shit like this. Billy admired you and the way you handled everything, but on the other side, he was irritated at how differently you reacted to him. You both had the same problems, yet he became the biggest jerk at school, a big asshole, while you always kept being the pure girl you are. The pure, sweet and kind girl he got to know. And now he found out about your cruel backstory, and he felt bad. Safe to say, after what he just found out, Billy never made it to that date.

After that day, you really started to feel a connection with Billy. You didn’t want to admit it, but the abusive nature of both your fathers was what brought you together. You both sought some weird way of comfort in the fact that the two of you now had someone who understood you, even if you never really talked about it. Billy hesitantly opened up to you too, about his father and a little bit about his mother as well. It wasn’t a lot, Billy is not good with talking about feelings, but still, you felt a little proud that he trusted you enough by now to talk about his family issues. It was a late summer day then, you both were the last ones to leave the school after he had his basketball practice and you after staying longer to finish a school project. It happened that you both parked your cars directly next to each other, and after just some small talk, he opened up a little. He didn’t talk about it much, but that was okay for you, you were just happy that he chose you as the person to talk to. Nobody else knows anything about this part in his life, it always made you kind of special. You had something nobody else ever had before, and it made you a little proud. It made you stand out, for both Billy and the rest.

The first real change in his behavior you noticed was how Billy started avoiding being violent when you were around. You first realized it when, in school, Billy was in a heated argument with Jason about something you didn’t even know, and a crowd was watching the two men. When you stepped into the circle, however, and Billy realized, he decided to let Jason go and not beat him up. You didn’t think too much of it, but it happened more than once. And eventually, he stopped provoking fights completely. He still was the heated Billy Hargrove the whole school knew by then, he still was this cocky jerk who thought was ‘the king’. But he wasn’t physically violent anymore, not that you knew. You heard of a few fights, but those were always because someone else started it and Billy only defended himself. Billy tried to keep this kind of violence away from you, keep these ’news’ about a fight away from you. He somehow didn’t want you to think about him as a violent teenager with anger issues, he slowly started caring about your opinion. He wanted you to not think bad of him anymore. And when he realized this, he was irritated at first, but kind of accepted it at last. He kept these thoughts to himself, however.

Then he stopped complaining about you hanging out with Max at their house, he instead started greeting you there, too. He slowly warmed up with the fact to see you around this often. He started feeling at ease whenever he saw you in their house, whenever he heard your voice, your laugh from either the living room or Max’s room. He stopped commenting on how ‘weird’ it was to hang out with a girl that much younger than you. He admitted to himself, by then he was kind of happy that you and Max got along that well. He was able to see you sometimes daily, after school as well. It was an unfamiliar feeling for him, because normally, girls his age didn’t ever spend that much time around him. Especially without him making a move on them. Especially when he was attracted to them. And he was attracted to you, he knew that for a while already.

He eventually stopped flirting with every girl he saw at school, his flirty actions became more and more rare. It looked like the only girl he really payed attention to was you, still always nodding at you when he saw you, looking at you whenever he could. Everyone at school noticed, the girls weren’t too thrilled about Billy seemingly settling on one girl and that it wasn’t them. The boy were irritated, surprised about how Billy wasn’t interested in flirting with every female around him anymore. He tried to, at first, he tried to get his mind off of you by spending even more time with other girls, but he never entirely stopped thinking about you. And because he finally realized it was useless, he stopped hanging out with all these girls, stopped going on dates, stopped fooling around. It was foreign for him, only thinking about one girl and being this occupied with her, yet, he slowly warmed up to that fact as well. Still keeping his thoughts to himself. You noticed all this, you noticed the changes in Billy’s behavior. But you didn’t allow yourself to think that is was possibly because of you. Nobody could make Billy Hargrove change, no girl was able to twist his mind that much, and especially, if nothing ever happened physically between the two of you. You weren’t unpopular or ugly, but there were other girls at school far more attractive and popular, so why would it be you, out of all of them? You simply refused to think that Billy got interested in you, that he wanted to change because of you. When, in fact, you were his entire reason.

Then, he slowly started to actually talk to you when you were at their house, in the kitchen for example. He would occasionally ask about your day, try his best to cautiously ask about your father and if he did something. And when he found out that you’re actually interested in the same type of music as him, you two started talking a lot about this. It almost became natural to talk to him when you were visiting them, you finally started to feel comfortable around Billy. You enjoyed your little talks when bumping into him at their house, smiled at him every now and then, and finally, Billy got comfortable enough to smile at you genuinely as well, not with his typical flirty smirk. Max noticed very quickly that you and Billy got along with each other, and at first, she was hesitant, even warned you about him. But the more time went by, the more she realized that her step-brother actually started changing. She saw the way Billy looked at you, the way he treated you. She saw how he stopped bringing girls home, how his cocky behavior slowly faded around you and was replaced by a more natural, softer version of Billy. And she saw how he acted when you were around, it was obvious that he wanted you to think good of him. Max didn’t want to believe it, but at some point, it was painfully obvious for her: Billy Hargrove, the guy whose cold heart no girl was able to win over, fell for her best friend. He caught feelings for you.

And then finally, he asked you to hang out privately, just the two of you. It wasn’t initially labeled as a ‘date’, but in secret, you both kind of hoped that it was one. He picked you up after school and you drove to Lover’s Lake, spending the day there together. And you actually had a great time. Nothing happened, you just hung out together and talked a lot, you even shared a few laughs together. It was nice seeing Billy laugh in an authentic way, not his typical ‘bad boy laugh’ to impress ladies, his real laugh made him look genuine and pure, you enjoyed seeing him like this. At that point, you couldn’t help yourself anymore, you liked the new Billy. You liked the Billy he was around you, the Billy he showed to you. You liked how he changed, and you really hoped he did it for you. At school, he still somewhat was the old Billy Hargrove, but when you were around, he got softer, even at school. When his friends started noticing, Billy was quick to teach them not to make fun of it, but still, he always kept it calm around you. It was obvious for the whole school, for everyone but the two of you.

You hung out quite often after you first ‘date’, Billy even started talking to you openly at school. He behaved differently towards you, like an actual decent guy, not like the old, bad Billy Hargrove he always pretended to be. You didn’t even care about all rumors or mean words about you, you were just happy that Billy finally seemed to heal a little. You enjoyed that he finally openly talked to you and felt comfortable enough to show it to the people at school. Every day, when he met you at your locker and talked to you, you felt happy. You didn’t mean to, but at some point, you had to admit to yourself that you liked him. Liked him a lot more than you intended to in the first place.

Your first kiss was when you really decided to stick together. It was when you found him after another argument with Neil, leaning on the hood of his Camaro in front of their house, smoking a cigarette while trying to regain his composure. You instantly knew what happened, it wasn’t the first time you saw Billy like this. You originally wanted to come over to get something you forgot there the day before, but when you saw Billy outside, you didn’t care about that stupid hat anymore. You went up to Billy, and when he heard your footsteps, he looked over his shoulder, expecting you to be either Susan or Max. But when he saw you, he relaxed. Since you already saw him at his worst, he didn’t really care anymore, he just looked at you, tears in his eyes. You knew what to do, especially since that day sought to be a worse one than others. So, you gently took the cigarette from him and instead, just hugged him. Hugs never happened often between you two, but you knew he just needed it in that moment. And yes, he instantly hugged you back, leaning into you and breathing heavily to not give in to his emotions. You whispered soft words, calming him by gently running your fingers through his hair and you waited for him to calm down again. Moments like these rarely happened, normally, Billy still was the confident boy you got to know, Billy knew how to stay upright even after a fight with his father. But that day, he just needed comfort, that day he wasn’t strong enough. And even if moments like these were extremely rare, you gladly helped him. When Billy finally leaned back again and looked you in the eyes, you could see how hard he was trying to hold back the tears. You didn’t even think about it anymore, you just put your hands on his cheeks and gently brushed your thumbs over his soft skin. He stared right back at you, and after a short moment of just exchanging looks, you finally leaned in and placed your lips on his. Yes, you were the one that kissed him first. A few months before only, you swore to yourself to not let Billy get close to you, and now you were there, breaking your own pledge by kissing him and allowing him to get closer than you ever anticipated. But it felt good, Billy felt good for you. He immediately kissed you back, softly and with much more emotion than you expected, keeping you close to him. Billy broke the kiss first, looking at you with surprisingly much affection and gratitude, he even smiled gently at you. It was a genuine smile, he was completely honest with his emotions in that situation.

“Thank you,” he whispered only, and you just nodded with a small smile on your lips. Months ago, you would’ve scolded yourself now for your weakness, but Billy changed. He changed and now you think it’s worth a shot, you wanted to help him.

Billy may be a broken boy. But you’re broken, too, you both share the same story. You and him are two broken souls.

And two broken souls can heal each other, can become one complete soul.

#billy hargrove #stranger things #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove oneshot #one shot #angst #fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things oneshot

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toournextadventure · 1 year

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everyone but her pt.14

Summary: Spring break is over, and so are the careless days. School is back and you're avoiding Wednesday. Everyone knows it and she just wants to know why. Why won't you tell her?

Word Count: 6.6k Warnings: hints at child abuse, violence, injuries, blood, swearing, Birb has no filter Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @n0p35 @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @asters-abditory @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets

“Thank you again for bringing me here,” you said as you grabbed your duffel bag from Lurch.

The hospital was, thankfully, not too busy thanks to everyone heading home after the holidays. Not that you would ever openly explain it, but it was the exact reason you preferred going on Sundays. Whether by luck or the grace of god, the Addamses didn’t question when you had asked them to make a short detour to DHMC, and they still weren’t asking questions.

“Will you be able to get back to Nevermore?” Morticia asked. Her hand felt warm on your shoulder; it was nice.

“I’ll just fly,” you said simply. “My bag isn’t too heavy.”

“Very well, dear,” Morticia said with a smile before giving your shoulder a squeeze and stepping back.

“A hug for the road, then.” You didn’t have any time to think before Gomez enveloped you in his arms.

It’s prefacing pain, your mind told you as he continued to hold you tight. It’s a hug, your heart argued, just a hug. And you wanted to lift your arms and hug him back because he had been so kind the entire week. He had taught you, respected you, enjoyed having you around. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t fight all those years of staying away, and you couldn’t hug him back and the sting of tears made its home behind your eyes.

He pulled away with a smile and was quickly replaced by Pugsley. This one, you thought, I can handle this one. It was just like a hug from Alex, at least that’s what you told yourself. Your arms felt like lead until finally they wrapped around Pugsley’s shoulders to hug him back.

“Thanks for making my sister happy,” he whispered loud enough for only you to hear.

You didn’t even have time to think about the depth of his words before he pulled away with a closed-mouth smile. He was sweet. Every part of him reminded you more and more of Alex, or even a younger Nicky. You wanted to protect him with every part of your being.

Stop being so sappy.

“Let me know if those guys try anything again,” you said just as quietly so Wednesday couldn’t hear. He smiled.

“Tell your brother I said hi,” was all he said in reply.

Wednesday stepped forward next; you didn’t get a hug, but that was alright. You weren’t expecting one. She gave you a look that trailed over your face almost as if she was looking for something. As unusual as it was to admit to yourself, it felt almost as if she cared. As if she liked you.

She kissed you! Your mind screamed at you. She must like you a little bit! But a kiss didn’t necessarily mean anything, right? It hadn’t meant anything with your ex, why would it mean something with Wednesday? You wanted it to mean something, by god you did, but what if you were wrong?

“Don’t be late,” Wednesday at last. “I’m not checking on you in the morning.”

“I won’t be late,” you reiterated.

Everyone told you their goodbyes one final time before getting in the car and finishing the drive to Nevermore. You stood on the sidewalk and watched until the car was out of sight. Their absence settled in your chest almost instantly, but you pushed it down, grabbed your bag, and started your way into the hospital.

“Welcome back, doll,” Nurse Jackie said when you passed the desk. “Were you on a trip?”

“Spring break at Wednesday’s place,” you answered. “Has he behaved?”

“A good spring break, I see.” You tilted your head at her words, but when she touched a spot on her neck and raised her brow, you felt your entire face heat up. Nurse Jackie just laughed and gestured her head to Nicky’s door. “He’s been good.”

“Sup, dickwad,” you called out as you tossed your duffel into the corner of the room and plopped down in the chair beside Nicky’s bed. “Nurse Jackie said you’ve been a pain in the ass.”

“I did not,” Nurse Jackie said quickly from her desk across the hall, causing you to laugh to yourself.

“Wanna hear about the crime I committed over spring break?” You asked, finally reclining back and putting your feet up on the bed. The heart monitor spiked twice. “Too bad, I’m telling you anyway.”

From across the hall, Jackie listens as you recount your spring break to Nicky. It was always nice to hear you laughing and joking around. Not once did you ever get a response, but it brought a lighter atmosphere to the ICU. Of course there were the days you would succumb to the situation and there would be nothing but silence coming from the room, but days like today? Those were the days that made things a little easier.

Every now and then one of the nurses would go in to check on you and make sure neither you nor Nicky needed anything, and you would have them talking and laughing for hours on end if they didn’t excuse themselves. They had learned after the first few months that it was your coping mechanism. You simply distracted yourself and others from the situation at hand.

“Time to shave,” Jackie said as she finally walked into the room. You were still sitting with your feet up on the bed, flipping through the channels on the TV to no avail. “Wanna help?”

“Absolutely,” you said, tossing the remote onto the chair as you stood up. “I’m gonna make you look so goofy,” Jackie heard you mumble to Nicky.

She kept her own smile to herself as she got everything all set up. Honestly, it wasn’t the most professional of her to allow you to help, but she couldn’t help it. You had been present for most everything over the past three years, she (and all the other nurses, admittedly) could be forgiven for allowing you to help. There was something Jackie had remembered you telling her one night near the beginning of Nicky’s eternal stay in the ICU.

“It feels like I’m helping,” you had said after she had shown you how to turn and reposition him. “Like it’s not my fault.”

After that, you became an integral part of Nicky’s care whenever you visited. The initial guilt (at least outwardly) was gone, but you were still eager to help. Without prompting, you lathered the shaving cream and started putting it on Nicky’s face.

“Behave,” Jackie said sternly when she turned around and saw the… lewd image you were making with the shaving cream.

“Oh come on,” you huffed, “it’s not like he cares.” But nonetheless, you wiped the image away and went back to work.

Jackie handed you the razor once you were done and let you get to work. You always talked while you worked; she assumed it was a nervous habit of yours. Not once did you ever actually talk about your home life, but you would talk about school, or the friends you had, or even just whatever popped into your head. Jokes were common, disregard for your own feelings even more so.

After you had been released from DHMC, she had tried to get you to go to therapy. No, you weren’t her responsibility once you were discharged, but the hurt she could see on your face was too much for her to bear. She had helped take care of you for two months, she could be forgiven for being a tad protective. But after you had very quickly shut her down about the idea, she accepted that maybe that was just how you needed to go about things for now.

“Don’t shave shapes,” Jackie scolded you again. You froze and looked up at her with the same expression one would make if they had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“He told me this is what he wanted,” you attempted to argue.

“Oh?” Jackie inquired, and you nodded quickly. Too quickly. “He woke up for the first time in four years just to tell you he wanted a dog shaved in his beard?”

“... yes he did-”

“-shave it normally,” Jackie warned you again, “or I’m revoking helping privileges for a month.”

“You’re no fun anymore,” you groaned but did as you were asked. Albeit with a frown on your face, but that was an acceptable reaction.

“And you’re more trouble,” Jackie said, holding the cup out for you to clean the razor. “I think this Wednesday girl is a bad influence on you.”

“She is not,” you said softly with a smile. “If anything, I think I’m the bad influence.”

“I bet you are,” Jackie said, her voice barely covering the sound of the phone ringing at the desk.

You continued to shave Nicky’s face with expert precision, never leaving even the smallest hint of hair. When you weren’t so busy being the typical little sister that you so enjoyed being, it was clear how much you cared for him. The gentleness in your touch and the concentration and effort you put into taking care of him was more than enough proof.

In fact, Jackie was so focused on your focus that she hadn’t heard Angela step into the room. She only noticed when Angela cleared her throat and held up a sheet of paper. A sheet of paper with your last name on it.

“They called again,” Angela said.

“Who called again?” You asked, finishing up the last touches before looking up at both women.

Jackie didn’t want to tell you. She didn’t want to bring that name up when you were in such a good mood. But they had been calling for the past few weeks, and she knew you wouldn’t call them back unless necessary. They hadn’t told her what they wanted, but if they were calling this often then she could assume it was now considered necessary.

“Marcus and Kristi want you to call them back,” Angela said when it was clear Jackie wouldn’t. “Today.”

The fear on your face was enough for both women to figure out what was going on, at least at the moment. Neither of them knew much, just that your parents paid the bills and Nicky’s life support stayed on. You had never explained, and they had never asked. Your reactions were enough of an answer.

“Oh,” you finally said, and you set the razor down before picking your phone up with slow, methodical movements. It was as if you had been replaced by a robot. “Okay.”

“Do you want some privacy?” Jackie asked. She gestured with her head for Angela to leave; she did.

“It’s okay,” you said, your voice sounding detached from your body while you fell down in the chair, “you can stay.”

You put the shaking phone up to your ear and stared into the distance as it rang. Jackie did her best not to eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help it. When you said “hi” in the smallest voice she had ever heard, she couldn’t stop herself. Your eyes were glazed over and your breathing was coming in short pants.

She didn’t have to be a nurse to see you were hurting.

The voices on the other end of the phone continued as your head turned to face Nicky. A single tear fell when you closed your eyes, squeezing them shut and biting your bottom lip so hard Jackie could see the single bead of blood that sprung from the skin.

“Yes sir,” you said. Was that how you sounded as a child? Had you always been so afraid? “Goodbye.”

You sat there in silence, only the occasional sniffle cutting through. With what Jackie assumed to be a great effort, you opened your eyes and looked at Nicky. She knew that look. And she certainly knew the look that came after, with your jaw set and a determination in your eyes.

“They’re not cutting it off,” you said through clenched teeth.

But Jackie could still hear the fear underneath the rage.

—---

Wednesday was mad at you. She was mad at you for giving her emotional whiplash when she didn’t even like emotions to begin with. It was inevitable that you would return to a routine when back at Nevermore, but this? This was almost painful, and she didn’t know how to handle it.

Maybe it was her fault for assuming you would still wish to hold her hand under the table, or come to her room at night to bother her with more of your rambling. To have you sit by her in class and in the quad, to offer to paint Thing’s nails while she was writing.

But no. No, you were only ever with Yoko or on your own. During class you would sit by Yoko without even a glance in Wednesday’s direction, and it was impossible for her to not see you two talking nonstop. You walked with Yoko to classes, around campus, during meals.

Wednesday wouldn’t deny, she had questioned Enid and Divina about it. After all, Yoko was their girlfriend too, did they not find it suspicious? Not even a little? But Divina promised it wasn’t like that, you two had just been friends for longer than any of them had even been at Nevermore. You were both like two peas in a pod.

In a surprising twist, Wednesday believed it.

“Wednesday, just relax,” Enid huffed as she sat down across the table. Yoko and Divina were quick to follow suit. “Unless you don’t trust Eugene now.”

She gave Enid a quick glare before turning back to see you sitting beside Eugene. It was impossible to tell what you were both talking about and she wanted nothing more than to go over and hear for herself. From the look on your face it wasn’t a pleasant conversation, but Eugene was insisting.

At least that’s what it looked like.

With a sigh, you said something to Eugene that made him smile before he got up and ran off. You shook your head and stood up next. Wednesday half-expected you to leave the quad as you had been doing for the past week. Her heart raced when you walked in her direction, sitting down directly beside her with a grunt.

“The matching hickeys are cute,” Yoko said once you were settled.

“Ha ha ha,” you mocked with a quick kick; judging by Yoko’s reaction, you hit your mark. “Fuck off.”

“You ready for the full moon tonight?” Enid asked. “Because I’m not.”

“Why not?” You asked indignantly. “It’s not like you’re going to wolf out- ouch.” You instantly leaned down to rub your knee. “Sorry,” you said when Yoko gave you a, quite admittedly, vicious look. “That was rude.”

“It’s okay,” Enid said even though her smile had fallen slightly, “you didn’t mean it.”

“Isn’t it your date night?” You asked, eyes darting between Enid and Wednesday.

“Yes,” Wednesday answered. Why wouldn’t you actually look at her?

“Any exciting plans?” Divina chimed in.

“Probably just a movie,” Enid said. “She agreed to watch one of mine if I watch one of hers.”

“Well isn’t that cute,” you teased. And finally, for probably the first time since she had left you at the hospital, you smiled. “Don’t eat too much popcorn, that shit gets expensive.”

“Oh don’t worry, we have it all planned out,” Enid said, immediately going into a long-winded explanation of the night.

But Wednesday wasn’t listening to Enid; she was focused on how your leg was suddenly close to hers again and, for the first time in a week, she could feel your warmth again. She had missed it, embarrassingly so. It made her dead heart beat and she wanted more of it.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into her ear while Enid continued to talk.

“Why?” Wednesday asked back, turning just enough to look at you. She wished she hadn’t when she noticed how close you were.

“For avoiding you,” you said simply. “Can I make it up over coffee on Saturday?”

Say no, her head told her. You had just openly admitted to avoiding her for the week, after everything that had happened during spring break. All the progress you had both made (at least she felt she had made progress) and then you could still avoid her so easily? No, she wasn’t sure she wanted you to make it up to her.

But she wanted you. Of that she was sure.

The corner of your mouth twitched with the barest hint of a smile that you could muster without the other three noticing. It almost made her want to smile in return. She’s making you weak, her mind told her. But she wasn’t entirely convinced she cared when you finally reached over and grabbed her hand-

-that electric jolt went up her arm once again, lodging itself like a bullet in the back of her skull.

“Eugene run!” You yelled.

Blood.

Screaming.

The full moon shining down through the trees.

A vicious growl.

“Enid?”

“Hey.” Your voice cut through the vision loud and clear, pulling Wednesday out with a gasp. “I gotchu.”

Your hands felt warm even through her uniform. The grip you had on her thigh was grounding, and for a moment it was as if the vision hadn’t even happened. It was just your hands on her and your eyes looking so very hypnotizing.

Okay. Her visions definitely impaired her ability to look at you neutrally.

“You good?” You asked.

“Yes,” Wednesday managed to get out past that lump in her throat. “Coffee sounds good.”

She hoped you would move along with the conversation as she was trying to. The sound of that scream - had it been yours? - was echoing in her head and she wanted it gone. Wanted you to get rid of it for her. You interlocked your fingers with hers and nodded with a small smile.

It didn’t get rid of the screams completely. But it helped.

—---

“I’ll kick your ass for this next time, Ottinger,” you said as you lagged further behind Eugene’s steady pace.

“It shouldn’t take long,” he told you, “I know exactly where they hide.”

“Well hurry up,” you grumbled, “it’s cold and something doesn’t feel right.”

Eugene knew you only really said those things when you meant them, at least to him. If you felt something was off, then it probably was. He certainly wouldn’t argue with you, that was for sure. So instead of looking for the extra bugs on his list, he made a beeline to the grouping of trees that he knew were infested.

The sound of your wings flapping lightly was almost the only thing he could hear, aside from the crunching of the twigs on the ground. He had told you that you could leave the harness off if you wanted, but he hadn’t actually expected you to. It was nice, really, he didn’t think he had ever truly seen them before now. Almost made him feel like you trusted him.

“Quit staring,” you said with a raised brow, “or you can bug hunt on your own.”

“Sorry,” Eugene said, but the small smile on your face eased his slight anxiety. “It’s just right over here.”

He didn’t wait for you to keep up before jogging over to the small copse of trees that he had painstakingly scouted out over the past few weeks. Without hesitation he got to work; he needed to be careful so he didn’t scare them away. The flashlight flickered once but steadied out, and he could finally get to looking.

“How was your spring break-”

“-Don’t start small talk,” you interrupted. “Just get your bugs, I’m getting goosebumps.”

Eugene turned his head to look at you and he would admit, your stance was giving him the creeps. When he was kneeling down you looked like a giant; a giant being with giant wings and an angry face. It was scary against the moonlight, and if he hadn’t known it was you, he probably would have panicked.

“Right,” he finally said, turning around to get back to his hunt.

You were making him nervous. He wouldn’t admit it to you because then you would think he wasn’t cool, but you were. Just towering over him and looking out into the woods. Almost like some kind of guardian angel, although he was pretty sure you would get mean if you needed to.

“Eugene, hurry up,” you said, your voice suddenly dropping to barely more than a whisper.

“I’ve almost got him, want to see?” Eugene asked.

“Absolutely not- wait, that’s kinda cool,” you said after turning around and leaning closer, squinting your eyes to try and see it better. “Ew,” you mumbled with a scrunch of your nose when the bug in question wiggled around until finally dropping into the collection cup with a little *splat*.

“Just one more and then we can go,” Eugene said, already looking for his other target.

The flashlight trailed over every inch of those trees, but he still couldn’t find the beetle. It should have been here, it was always here. Surely it wouldn’t have vanished, right? Bugs didn’t just do that, especially not in these woods. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, followed quickly by a chill running down his spine.

“The birds stopped singing,” you whispered.

With a turn of his head, he was met with your hand extended toward him. What did you want him to do with it? He reached out to take it - please don’t think I’m lame - and you instantly squeezed his hand in return. You pulled him to his feet and backed up, pushing him into the crowded copse of trees.

“Stay here,” you whispered as you turned around. “I’m gonna-”

-a growl echoed right by his head and your hand was ripped from his grip. He didn’t scream when he saw you hit the ground a few feet away. No, he didn’t make any sound at all, he just forced himself between the trees. Twigs dug into his back but he pushed deeper.

A clawed hand swiped through the trees and slashed the strap of his backpack. It fell to the ground with a thud, and the claws were gone. He hadn’t gotten a good look, but it had been furry and big and-

-and it was a full moon.

The claw shoved through the trees again, this time getting closer and he could almost feel them touching his skin. This time he did scream, and the clawed hand pulled back before a furry eye peered through the small gap in the trees.

A piercing whistle echoed through the air.

“Over here, asshole!” You shouted.

The wolf turned and charged off with a snarl. Don’t do it, all of his instincts told him, but Eugene ignored them and leaned out of the trees right as you were slammed into the bark beside him. You slumped lifelessly to the ground.

“Fuck,” you mumbled as you head fell back against the tree. Eugene could see the blood pouring from your nose.

“Aren’t you a boxer?” Eugene asked, quickly pulling you to your feet and trying his hardest not to notice the blood you dripped onto his shirt.

“I don’t think he’s gonna play by the rules,” you said. It sounded like your words were drowning before you could get them out.

From his spot behind you, Eugene could finally see the wolf. It was big. It was very big. A bit of blood coated his claws - was it yours? - and he looked mean. He could feel your arm pressing against his shoulder as you guided him further away from the danger.

“Eugene,” you said quietly, your eyes never leaving the wolf in front of you.

“Yeah?” He asked; his eyes were locked on the same thing.

“Run.”

“What?” He asked, finally tearing his eyes away to look up at you. You looked angry.

“Now.”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to. Not when the wolf was looking at you like you were his next meal, and you were looking at him like you wanted a total smackdown. But when your bloody hand pushed him back one more time, soft yet forceful, he listened. He turned and ran and didn’t look back.

Not even when he heard the snarl mix with your own shouting.

—---

“Wednesday, you’re not paying attention.”

No. No she wasn’t. She couldn’t pay attention to the annoyingly happy movie Enid had picked out because something felt wrong. What it was, she couldn’t pinpoint exactly, but it was something. It was something in the air, or in her soul, or even just in her gut.

She didn’t know and it was infuriating.

“I know you had a vision during lunch,” Enid said. She paused the movie and turned until her legs were in Wednesday’s lap. “Was it about Y/N?”

Wednesday’s hand rested on Enid’s shin subconsciously - she hated that it was a subconscious reaction - and leaned back. She didn’t know if it was about you. The scream wasn’t clear enough to judge if it was yours or not. Oh god, she hoped it wasn’t yours.

“Would you feel better if we went to check it out?” Enid asked.

“Yes,” Wednesday said without hesitation.

“Then let’s go,” Enid said with her wolfy grin.

She stood up and grabbed Wednesday’s hand to pull her along, and off they went. It was past curfew so they had to be quiet, but it was easy enough to get out. The light from the full moon illuminated the woods in a way that was beautifully spooky. On any other night she would have loved to take you for a walk like this.

But not tonight.

Tonight her mind was running through every possibility of her vision. Screaming, blood, howling. Surely the howling wouldn’t be Enid, she hadn’t even wolfed out yet and it would be quite the coincidence if it happened at that moment. She didn’t believe in coincidences. Surely there had to be some hint in her vision that would tell her something-

“-Look out!”

Was that Eugene?

“Move it!”

No.

“That’s Y/N,” Enid said. A howl echoed through the trees.

I know! Wednesday thought as she started running toward the sound. I know it is! Why had you gone into the woods so late at night on a full moon? Why were you with Eugene? You were both so stupid, you were both supposed to be back at Nevermore-

“-Wednesday?”

What else? Pulling herself to a stop, Wednesday turned around to look at Enid. Or, what was Enid, but was now the beginning of a werewolf. With outstretched hands, Wednesday stepped closer - for comfort or support, she supposed - but quickly stopped herself as Enid finished her transformation.

Her first one.

What else could possibly happen?

Another scream echoed through the woods; much further than only moments ago. Enid’s wolf looked in that direction before sprinting off, leaving Wednesday behind. She stood there in resignation as she realised, no, she couldn’t keep up with a werewolf. So instead she grabbed Enid’s coat and started chasing after her.

She was going to quit questioning what else could go wrong.

“Enid?”

Wednesday would know your voice anywhere. If it was the last thing she ever heard, she would know it was yours. And if you were this far in the woods then it meant you had seen the wolf and-

-she stopped in her tracks the moment she noticed the unusual angle of your wing.

You turned around to face her, and she wished you hadn’t. Truly she wished you would have stayed facing Enid because this… this wasn’t something she was comfortable with. She felt nauseated at the sight of you, battered and broken and babying your left leg while your right arm hung limply at your side.

“Where’s Eugene?” You asked. How was she supposed to know? “Have you seen him?” No, why would you be asking about him when you were clearly standing at death’s door.

You huffed.

“Go help Enid,” you said; it sounded much more like a demand.

And Wednesday stood there as you limped away behind her, your voice echoing through the woods as you screamed for Eugene. She should have been worried about Eugene too; she should have cared. But it was hard to do when she couldn’t stop seeing your broken body.

“Eugene!” You shouted - no, screamed - again, and Wednesday’s eyes squeezed shut because no, it was all too much. She could hear Enid’s whimpering and your screaming and she couldn’t quit picturing your blood and it was too much.

“Willa, did you see that?!” Enid shouted, and even though Wednesday couldn’t see it she felt Enid shaking her shoulders. “I did it! I finally did it!”

“Eugene!” You needed to quit screaming. You needed to quit or Wednesday swore she was going to collapse. She couldn’t hear your voice crack like that.

“You look faint,” Enid said, her hands squeezing Wednesday’s shoulders just a bit more. “Are you okay?” She sounded worried now. Could everyone please keep their emotions in check, this was too much.

Wednesday finally looked and, oh. Oh, Enid was still completely nude. Oh, Wednesday still had her jacket. Her eyes widened just enough to see clearly before pulling the coat tight around Enid’s shoulders. She whispered a “thanks” before grabbing it with her own hands to secure it in place.

“You dick,” you shouted, and Wednesday turned around just in time to see you skip-running to where Eugene had suddenly appeared. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay,” Eugene said, but his words were muffled as your hands checked every inch of him.

Your bloody hands.

“You’re bleeding,” Eugene said as he grabbed your hands to stop them from moving.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, pulling away until you could lean back against a nearby tree. “Did you at least get the bugs?”

“They’re in my backpack,” Eugene answered as he held the torn backpack up.

“Good,” you sighed, “because we are never doing this again.”

It was a slow walk back to Nevermore. While Enid wasn’t injured, she was certainly exhausted and leaning on Wednesday for support. Beside her, you were practically falling over Eugene as you limped forward. The occasional grunts and groans from you went straight to Wednesday’s chest and she grew more concerned with each step.

Weems, of course, was waiting for all four of you when you finally made it back.

After everyone got checked out in the infirmary and the nurse had finally finished bandaging you up - “No flying, no boxing, no exceptions” - you had all been led to Weems’ office. The three of them were sitting outside while you were, admittedly, getting what Wednesday would consider to be the scolding of the century.

And she was absolutely eavesdropping.

"Who's decision was it?" Weems asked. "Which one of you decided it would be a wonderful night for a midnight stroll?"

"I did," you said. "I told Eugene he could hunt for his creepy crawlies if he came with me."

"And Misses Sinclair and Addams?" She pushed.

"I said they should spend date night with us," you said, "and I'd pay for their next date."

Wednesday heard Weems sigh.

"Do you understand how reckless that was?" Weems asked, her voice rising in volume. "How much danger you put everyone in?"

"It was just a walk-"

“On a full moon, no less!” Weems yelled. “You could have gotten all four of you injured. Or killed, for that matter.”

“Everyone is fine,” you argued back.

“What were you thinking?” Weems asked you, her voice taking on a completely different tone. Less angry.

“Clearly I wasn’t.” Wednesday could practically hear the eyeroll in your voice.

A sigh barely reached her ears before being followed by heels on the floor and the door opening. Weems stood there and looked at the three of them for a moment. Only a moment.

“Inside,” Weems ordered as she ushered them into the office where you were already sitting with your head in your remaining functional hand.

“It was my fault-”

“-I don’t care whose fault it was,” Weems interrupted Eugene, who shrunk into his oversized coat. “You all broke the rules and put yourselves in danger.”

“We’re sorry,” Enid said quickly. “It won’t happen again.”

“No it won’t,” Weems agreed. “Your three weeks of detention will ensure that.”

Enid and Eugene groaned and threw their heads back. Wednesday truthfully didn’t care, detention was the least of her worries, but you. You didn’t even seem phased by the punishment. No, you just shifted in the chair and scrunched your nose up as you tried to settle. Did you hurt terribly?

“Every day at 4pm sharp,” Weems continued. “My office.”

Everyone mumbled out acknowledgement of the punishment, but no one seemed over eager about such a thing.

“To your dorms,” Weems sighed. “Now.” You moved to push yourself up when Weems’ hand pushed you back down. “Except you.”

Wednesday followed Eugene and Enid out of the office, looking back only once to see you staring off into the distance with glazed eyes. The red tint of blood was still staining the skin around your lips and eye and you looked… broken. You looked broken and Wednesday didn’t know what to do about it.

All she knew was it made her feel… sad. You made her feel sad.

—---

“Go check on her,” Enid said for what must have been the seventh time since Wednesday had started writing. “You know you want to.”

“I want to finish my writing time,” Wednesday retorted as she started typing aimlessly on the typewriter. Again. It was turning more into a waste of time if nothing else.

“She’s practically been grounded,” Enid continued. “I’m sure she would love the company.”

Wednesday sighed and leaned back in her chair. Enid was right. She knew she was right. It had been a few days and no one had seen you except for class and detention. No extracurriculars, no outings, you hadn’t even been coming down for dinner. And she hated it because, though she wouldn’t admit it, she missed you.

“Fine,” Wednesday said with a sigh.

She didn’t bother even looking at Enid (who was still painting Thing’s nails) because she knew there would be a smirk being sent in her direction. No, she didn’t need that kind of ridicule. It was past curfew, but what was going to happen? Weems was going to give her more detention?

It was a quick walk to your dorm, but she stood in front of your door with her fist raised. Now that she was near you, almost alone with you, her heart was racing in her chest. It didn’t make sense, she had been alone with you plenty of times before, why was this any different?

But when you opened the door and jumped slightly, looking down at her with a black eye and that bandage on your cheek, she remembered why she was nervous. She wasn’t just alone with you, she was alone with an injured you. Could she touch you without hurting you? Would you be okay?

“What are you doing here?” You asked. Did you not want her there?

I’m here to see you, she thought, to make sure you’re okay. She wanted to make sure you were okay, and you were safe, and yes your heart was still beating. Yes you were still alive and not just some ghost everyone saw around campus.

“Move,” she said instead.

She caught the little smile on your face as you stepped aside and let her in. The door clicked closed behind her while her eyes roamed over your room. It looked different. Your usual nest was shifted further to the wall and pillows were shoved in the corner.

“You rearranged,” Wednesday said.

“Everything hurts,” you said with a half-shrug, “gotta sleep sitting up.”

Oh.

“You need rest.”

“Yes, mother,” you said with a roll of your eyes. But Wednesday saw the flush to your neck.

She followed you to your nest and waited for you to get settled before following suit. But once she was close, she didn’t know what to do. Did she get closer to you? Or maybe you would like some space; you were damaged after all. That was obvious by the way your right arm and wing were practically strapped in place so you couldn’t move.

“Just come here,” you said, and Wednesday didn’t have time to brace herself before you grabbed her arm and gently pulled her into your side.

On instinct she held her arm out to brace herself, but when you let out a short groan she tried to back away. Your arm just pulled her closer, and she froze. She froze because now you were leaning against the wall and holding her as if your life depended on it. Her fingers could feel the bandage underneath your shirt and she hated it.

“Chill, Addams,” you said when, supposedly, you realised she was still tense. “We slept together at your house, it’s not a marriage proposal.”

Yes you had both slept together, but it was at her house and it hadn’t been after you had been mauled by a werewolf. There hadn’t been the same tension because it was different. In the time since then you had ignored her, avoided her, apologised, and tried to get yourself killed. Wednesday wasn’t one to allow herself to feel many emotions, but you were starting to make it difficult.

“I guess we need a rain check for Saturday’s coffee,” you said, bringing Wednesday out of her thoughts. Oh yes. You had wanted to make up for avoiding her.

“There will be more Saturdays,” Wednesday said and finally, she let herself lean her weight into your side.

She could hear your heartbeat in your chest. It was fast, but Wednesday had learned it was fairly usual for you. All that really mattered was that it was beating and it was strong and steady. There wasn’t much for her to worry about if your heart would just keep beating.

“Let’s get some sleep,” you muttered, and Wednesday looked up at your face. You did look exhausted. She supposed she should agree and let you sleep, although…

Do it.

With gentle fingers, Wednesday cupped your jaw and turned you to face her. Her eyes darted to your lips just once before pulling you down. It was effortless really, you instantly got the hint and leaned down to kiss her. She let you take the lead so she wouldn’t hurt you, but that didn’t stop the heat building in her chest.

You deepened the kiss, leaning down until Wednesday could wrap her hand around the back of your neck. There was a hunger behind your kiss; something Wednesday couldn’t quite place. But she could feel your pulse under your skin and just knew hers was racing along with it. You shifted and-

“-ouch,” you hissed, pulling back until your forehead was resting against hers.

“Are you okay?” Wednesday asked in a shameful display of concern. She blamed you and the kiss.

“Guess I can’t lift my right arm,” you said with a light chuckle. “Cockblocked by my own hubris.”

“What?” Wednesday asked, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye. You were blushing.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, very quickly leaning back and pulling Wednesday down with you. “Guess I’m just tired.”

“Sleep,” Wednesday said. She had meant to sound demanding, but her voice was far too soft. Too caring.

“Sleep with me,” you said even though you were already fading.

Wednesday didn’t have time to give you an answer before your eyes closed and your breathing evened out. She just watched you, felt the rise and fall of your chest beneath her fingers, the occasional brush of your good wing against her arm. And as you slept, her lips brushed against the itchy fabric of the bandage as she leaned up to leave a lingering kiss on your cheek.

She settled into your side once again and closed her eyes. It was too intimate, too close. But your warmth enveloped her and you subconsciously pulled her closer with your good arm. And just like that, Wednesday fell asleep and, for the first night since the full moon, her dreams were void of nightmares.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #everyone but her au

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flowerandblood · 1 year

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A Winter Beauty (Epilogue)

[Aemond Targaryen x fem!Stark reader]

[warnings: smut, so much fluff]

[description: Aemond and his family arrive at Winterfell for Rickon Stark's Name Day. There, Aemond meets his daughter, who arouses his desire. I changed some names and facts for the sake of the plot. Viserys is also slightly younger in this version.]

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

Previous parts: Masterlist

_____

Vaegon celebrated his name day. He just turned 13, his parents threw him a little feast on Dragon Stone. After Rhaenyra seized power and Aegon fled to Essos, the greens and blacks called a truce. The crown was hers, Aemond retained the title of prince, became the Hand, and was allowed to live on Dragon Stone with his family. His sister with her children and his mother also moved in with them.

The civil war ended virtually bloodless, and he, glad that his loved ones had survived, resigned himself to the fact, that he would never become king. He was fulfilling as a Hand. His half-sister and Daemon respected and trusted him. He performed his duties thoroughly and with dedication.

He taught his son sword fighting, but he was primarily an avid archer like his mother. Aemond accepted it, enjoying how fluently he spoke Valyrian and how perfect a dragonrider he was. He and his dragon had a strong, mutual bond. He felt proud every time he looked at him in the skies, as he flew alongside him on Vhagar.

Vaegon had his mother's sharp tongue, but he also inherited his detachment and calmness. Depending on his mood, he was more like him or Lady Stark. He and his wife both believed, that their son was the most perfect work of their lives, a walking proof of their boundless love.

One day, during one of their training sessions, while they were taking a break, Vaegon asked him a question, that knocked him off his feet.

"Why did you marry my mother, if you were betrothed to Lady Baratheon?" He asked, looking at him expectantly, wiping the sweat from his forehead. His bright purple eyes and curly black hair had young girls blushing and giggling at the sight of him.

Aemond stared at him in surprise, opening and closing his mouth, swallowing hard. He couldn't tell him, that he had kissed her the first night he met her. He didn't want to give him stupid ideas, that he could use later. He cleared his throat loudly.

"I fell in love with her." He spoke low and casually, deciding, it was the perfect evasive answer. He prepared himself for another duel. His son was not satisfied with his answer.

Vaegon saw, how his father looked at his mother, and how she looked at him. He saw them embracing, when they thought no one was watching, his father lovingly kissing her shoulders and neck as he stood behind her.

According to Vaegon, his mother was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen, and the fire between their parents made him feel secure. He knew, that they weren't like other married couples. He also wanted something similar for himself in the future.

“You fell in love with her, just because she is beautiful?” He asked, wondering aloud, if his father had meant only physical intimacy and nothing more. Aemond raised an eyebrow, unsure of what to do.

"Why so many questions all of a sudden?" He asked, trying to get out of the situation somehow.

"I want to know, what it's like. Whom am I supposed to ask, if not my own father?" He asked resentfully that, as usual, everything about his father had to be extracted by force. Aemond sighed loudly, slamming his sword into the ground, leaning against the hilt.

“I can't explain it. The first time I saw her in Winterfell, I couldn't stop thinking about her. I had a chance to watch her and listen to her talking to other people. She impressed me with her intelligence. I realized I had no similar feelings for any of Lord Baratheon's daughters." He said, exhaling softly, hoping that he had finally satisfied his curiosity.

Vaegon looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded. The explanation made sense to him. Indeed, his father had always taken his mother's opinion into account, and moreover, often yielded to her.

Only she wasn't afraid to talk to him directly and matter-of-factly, infuriating him. He knew, however, that his father could not hold his grudge against his mother for long. Even after the quarrels, that shook the palace, they slept in the same bed.

After training, he and his father went back inside, to take a bath and change into clean robes. Lady Stark was sitting at the great stone table, apparently replying to her brother's letter. After the death of their father, he was the new Lord of Winterfell.

She smiled to herself, when she saw them and stood up, walking slowly towards them. She couldn't help, but touch her son's dark curls, and he immediately took her hand away, impatient.

"How did your training go?" She asked lightly, amused.

"Father told me about how he fell in love with you." He said lightly, taking an apple from the table, that was on the platter. Lady Stark looked at her husband with raised eyebrows.

"Indeed?" She asked, trying not to laugh. Aemond rolled his eye impatiently.

"Leave me alone, both of you." He grunted, as he walked up the stairs to change.

Lady Stark joined him, as he lay comfortably in his bath. He watched silently, as she took off her robes, unfazed by her nakedness. Looking at her, he thought, about how much he would like his son to find in his life someone, like his wife was for him.

His son's question gave him food for thought. He realized, that he really didn't love his wife just for her body. He loved her for her devotion, dedication, wisdom, patience, confidence. For being able to deal with him, to calm him down, to calm his fiery anger.

His wife slid into the water, leaning her back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. He leaned in and kissed her temple lingeringly, his manhood throbbing impatiently behind her. It amused him, how inexhaustible they both were, when it came to physical intimacy.

They stopped fucking in the halls and gardens, not wanting their son to catch them, but in bed they were insatiable. Sometimes, they both escaped from the fortress at night, and flew on Vhagar to a place nearby.

They rented a room in the inn and fucked, as if they were mere traveling servants. They loved doing it. There they could moan and tease at will, driving themselves crazy. His wife's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Have you ever regretted marrying me?" She asked quietly.

Aemond looked at her in surprise, playing with her hair. He sighed softly, looking at her with amusement.

"You know I don't. You give me too many reasons to love you endlessly." He grunted, stroking her cheek with his finger. She smiled at him.

She looked at his lips, then at him. He pulled her to him, his hand tightening on her hair, his lips greedily digging into hers. His cock was completely hard now. With his wife, it didn't take much for him, to be fully ready to possess her. He pulled away from her, smiling at her.

“My mother was right. Verily, you are a true winter beauty."

_____

Thank you all for this adventure! I love Lady Stark in this version, I had so much fun with this whole story. Thank you all for taking it so wonderfully. I invite you to read my other fanfic here: Masterlist.

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes

Others: @dreamlandcreations @darkenchantress @moira-strangle-me-please @yentroucnagol @cloudroomblog @thehumanistsdiary @a-beaverhausen @avadakadabra93 @aonungs-tsahik @xmaiaa @writingaboutlove1998 @roxannequeen @alwaysholymilkshake

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black-aurora-nora · 1 year

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The Lie Above Pt. 1 | Yandere!TMNT (2016) x Teen!Reader

The TV loudly played throughout the sewer that had been your home for a few months now. The same theme song that you'd now grown to hate played for the umpteenth time and you found yourself unable to watch what was once your favorite TV show.

You huffed, turning down the volume and picking up a word search book. This would be your 20th one, if you remembered correctly.

Flipping through the pages, you huffed again and threw the book back onto the small table.

You hated this.

You hated when your brothers left, but you understood that it couldn't be helped.

The world was ending outside, above the sewers. A couple months ago, an alien species called the Krang began their colonization of the world. Your brothers were some of the only few left that could help in the rebellion.

And though you understood that they were needed, you wished that your life wasn't so dull. Hiding out was incredibly draining.

You missed your old life.

Your mom and dad.

You used to cry a lot when you first found out they were dead. Leo was the one that told you and Mikey would stay behind to watch after you while you grieved.

The both of you grew close during that time but then you got better and they had to start going out to fight the bad guys.

Sometimes you worried about them.

Speaking of the devil, you heard the telltale sounds of your brothers cheering and whooping as they arrived back to the base.

"Wassup, (Y/N)!" Mikey greeted.

You mustered up a small smile, "Hey."

Raph groaned at your lack of enthusiasm, "Oh no," He groaned, "She's in a sour mood again. You run out of word searches again?"

Leo elbowed him, shooting him a sharp look, "Don't."

"What's troubling you, my little sister?" Mikey asked in a silly tone, coming over to sit by you and drape a green arm over your shoulder, "C'mon, you can tell Big Bro Mikey, ignore the big bad Raph."

“There’s nothing to do down here. You guys are gone for hours and I’m stuck here watching reruns and doing word searches.” You explained, “I need something else to do.”

Donnie hummed at that, taking in what you said with a push of his glasses, “Like what? I’m sure we can find something else for you above ground.”

You shrugged, sliding away from Mikey.

An idea popped into your head and you blurted it out, “What if there was a way I could help you guys out during your missions?”

“No.” Leo responded firmly.

You slumped slightly before continuing, “I don’t mean go out with you guys,” you corrected, “I meant what if Donnie taught me how to use some of his computers? I could be the team’s ‘eye’.”

Then you’d never be bored and know that they’re safe. It was perfect.

“No, (Y/N).”

You furrowed your brows, “Why not? I’m not in the line of fire and I’m actually a part of the team! I could be great help as long as Donnie teaches me!”

The three brothers looked to the leader and Leo only kept his eyes rested on you.

Raph crossed his arms, cocking his head to the side, “Do you really think that you’re smart enough to use Donnie’s computers? Or that Donnie has enough time to teach you?”

Those were good questions but you had answers.

“I’m not smart enough now, but I can learn and you guys can’t go out during the day so that leaves plenty of time for him to teach me.” You felt yourself glowing at how well you answered.

How could they say no now?

"Look, (Y/N)," Leo started with a sigh and you felt yourself slump ever so slightly, "Donnie is already our tech guy. We can't waste time trying to teach you what he already knows."

Donnie nodded sadly in agreement, "Leo's right, (Y/N). Plus, we need to rest up during the day. I can't have a sharp mind on little sleep, y'know?" He chuckled nervously.

"So... I'm just supposed to stay trapped down here doing nothing?!" You asked rhetorically, "You guys can go out and fight in the rebellion but I have to sit down here with no one to talk to and three things to do?" Your arms crossed over your chest, "Yeah, that sounds fair."

Raph scoffed at your display of attitude, "You make it sound like we have fun while we're out there."

"It's better than staying down here," You huffed, unable to stop yourself from speaking out your thoughts, "Sometimes I wish I'd died before I'd met you guys."

You felt a release in your chest. It kind of felt good to get that out. But it also felt bad because you knew it would hurt your brothers.

But maybe you wanted to hurt them. All they ever did was leave you down in the sewers expecting you to greet them with a smile every time they came back. It was only fair that they feel a bit of what you dealt with every day.

There was a stunned silence that surrounded you and you almost said more.

"You don't mean that." Leo told you tightly. He sounded like he knew what he was talking about.

A shrug left you, "Yeah, because Leo always knows the answer." You said with whimsical sarcasm. "Leo always knows what's best, so who gives a fuck what (Y/N) thinks, right?"

"(Y/N)-" Mikey reached out for your shoulder but you stood up.

"Let's just get poor (Y/N) some more puzzle books, that'll shut her up. Let's make sure she doesn't get too close to Mikey because I'm Leo and what I say goes, right?"

Despite how visibly upset you were, Leo's fortitude didn't crack.

"You're obviously upset and saying things you don't mean. Why don't you go cool off in your room?"

Without another word, you beelined straight to your room and slammed the door.

The brothers remained silent for a few more moments until Raph spoke up.

"She read you for filth, huh?" He chuckled.

Mikey snorted at the comment, “Yeah, Leo, that must’ve sucked. I’m glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of that one.”

“I don’t know if more word searches is going to fix this.” Donnie thought for a moment, “I can try and get some other TV shows burned on some CDs but who knows how long that’ll hold her over until the next tantrum.”

“We’ll have to talk to her later. Try to help her understand that she’s got no choice but to stay down here.” Leo told his brothers.

“Probably need to make this ‘rebellion’ seem more dangerous than she previously thought.”

With that said, Donnie turned to go to his computers, “Since (Y/N) went to bed early, I’m going to make sure that her parents aren’t still looking for her on the news channel.”

“Good idea. Hopefully they’ll lose hope soon.”

The four brothers went their separate ways and (Y/N) quickly scurried back to her room, heart in her stomach.

What the hell was going on?

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sunnywalnut · 23 days

Text

I fully believe that the only thing that stopped me from identifying as trans when I was younger was the fact of my autistic black and white thinking.

Well yeah. That guy is trans. And I think he's super cool. But I couldn't be trans despite the fact that I feel more like myself with him because he embodies everything I wish I could be but stop myself from being.

Oh no I absolutely could not be transgender at all! I didn't know I was a dude since I was three like all these other people who were taught the concept of gender and the fact that gay people exist from a young age and I only learned lesbians existed after I was ten years old.

Of course that person is transgender. The whole reason I changed the name on the sticky note set on their desk was because they're my friend and I'm an ally. Totally not because I want somebody to do the same for me.

Nah bro. I don't think my obsession with gender neutral names and wanting to change my name to Alex because it was the only gn name I knew at the time had any transgender reasons for it. I'm just super attached to the idea of accidentally being mistaken for a boy. Even if it's just by name.

The reason I specifically searched for books with male protagonists my age when I was younger was totally because of super straight reasons and not because I identified with them more than any of the female leads, despite being extremely similar to a lot of them.

Oh totally I'm not jealous of my brother who's only one year older than me, therefore I get to see him embody all these manly traits like getting a cool low voice and be taught things that I wish I could learn but I wasn't explicitly invited so I stay where I was.

What do you mean it's not normal to treasure the blue Finding Nemo basketball cap that I sneered at on Christmas Day for "looking too boyish" and wearing it inside the house while I crawled up on my grandfather's lap so he could read to me.

Of course my best friend of over seven years is my sister! Despite the fact that I feel completely uncomfortable when she claims that I am hers. Not because we're not family. Because something is wrong with the word "sister" and I can't tell what.

I mean shit. The only reason I realized that I could've been queer was bc somebody told me that if I(a "straight girl") liked a trans guy, then I would be pansexual.

Untrue, obviously, since trans guys are still guys, and my little 13yo brain thought the same way, but the fact that somebody said it so casually just opened the floodgates of "what ifs" for me.

And you know what?

The year after that, I came out publicly as bi. Then ace. Then two years after that gender fluid. Then in the same year, transmasc. Then lesbian a couple months later. Then transmasc but not lesbian after a couple weeks because my partner was also genderfluid. And now? Transmasc/trans man and bi, specifically for the girls and gnc folks.

Had that person not told me I was pansexual, I'm pretty sure I would've just gone around being indifferent to my romantic partners thinking that friendship was the romance all along this entire time.

Six entire years. And I was autistic the whole time.

It was always about being a good person for the "other" people who needed me until I realized I could be the other people as well.

The whole reason I didn't "show signs" of being transgender during my childhood?

Same reason I didn't show signs of being autistic.

I was mirroring people. I was mirroring what I thought was needed of me. Ignoring my interests or things I was curious about. Because I knew what was expected of me. That part of it was explained thoroughly, at the very least. The gender part of it all. And by God, I was going to do a good job at it.

And yeah. I was happy when I found dresses that were pretty.

Not because I was the one wearing them.

But because it meant that my mom thought I was doing such a good job at Gender that I deserved a skirt. In order to show it off to everyone.

Same reason I allowed my hair to be done. Little jewels to be twisted into my long locks that I grew myself and refused to cut. Because this was what I was good at. Everyone, even if they didn't like me, they liked my long, feminine hair. They liked my frilly, feminine dresses. And my shiny, feminine jewelry.

And well... I liked being liked. I liked being admired.

Because nobody noticed me any other way.

Unless it was for my art.

I was good at art.

I'm still good at art.

My "feminine" art.

I no longer get joy from long hair and frilly dresses and shiny jewelry.

But I still get joy from art.

Even if it isn't feminine.

Even if it isn't shown to anyone.

Because it is mine.

It is me.

It is the one thing that I grew up seeing that everyone could do. Regardless of skill. Everyone was thrown in a class together. Everyone crowded around the girl who drew anime in class. Everyone knew of the famous men like Van Gogh. Everyone was able to do art. Everyone was able to be creative. To get messy. To work with their hands.

And everyone meant that there was space for me, too.

There were finally shades of gray.

And I clutch them dearly to my heart, right next to the rainbows of devotion I painted on the inside walls of my ribcage.

Each palette I've created is a labor of love, used to picture the world in each wonderful shade of admiration.

And that is still the one thing that I have found that try as they might, they cannot sort into sexes.

So I keep my shades of gray. I keep my rainbows and my flags. And I paint them with all the colors I like. Because art showed me a way to be free. And I refuse to live my life in a cage. Regardless of who's hands made it.

I just know that it won't be mine.

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yawntutsyip · 1 year

Text

⤷⠀˖ Pretty Girl⠀⁺. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Masterlist

₊˚୭ paring: neteyam x reader x lo’ak

₊˚୭ summary: how you, neteyam, and lo’ak became met as kids and became friends and they may or may not have developed an innocent crush on you <3 // this is their version of Young Love.

₊˚୭ authors note: Aeytemey(20) , Zawtxsu(8) , Reader(6) , Lo’ak(7) , Neteyam (8). Let me know if you guys would like a part two! I might be able to come up with something ~ // also I apologize if you find the hand feeding thing weird but I’m not gonna take it out because it’s not meant to be sexual- that’s all you if you think that, it’s just an act of love and care.

₊˚୭ na’vi words: tsmuke - sister , nantang - viperwolf

“Oh, bro! Your brother’s class tomorrow is gonna be so hard I already know” Neteyam groaned in annoyance to Zawtxsu who was the younger brother of Aeytemey, a young well-respected warrior who often taught the younger kids combat skills. “Yeah…It’s because Lo’ak kept making everyone laugh! and Aeytemey is very serious when he’s got his teachers mode on…it’s almost scary how different he is.”

“Come on bro, I wasn’t even doing anything on purpose! I really didn’t know how you were supposed to hold the spear! It was so heavy- I almost flew with the dang thing!” Lo’ak shouted from behind while jogging to catch up with the two older boys. “You were holding it too close up top, when you hold the spear you have to hold your right hand 3 inches from the bottom and your left 6 inches from the point.” Zawtxsu explained to Lo’ak showing him the correct way while pointing to the spear in his hand.

“Well, your brother is the teacher! Of course, you would know that” Lo’ak argued back with his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “Brother, even I knew that…You were just not paying attention” Neteyam piped in, chuckling at his brother while shaking his head. “... well…Whatever…I’m hungry” Lo’ak huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he tried changing the subject.

“How about you guys come to my home? We can all hang out and wait till Aeytemey gets back, he told me he was going out to pick some fruit!” Zawtxsu said that was quickly followed by a “yes! I’m starving!” and “sure, If it's not a bother”. And with that, the three boys raced to the home. Once they had reached the boy’s home they all sat on the wooden stools and made conversation to keep each other occupied till the older brother got back.

“Kaltxì Neteyam, Lo’ak. I didn’t know you guys were coming over” Aeytemey announced walking in with a basket full of fruit held on his side as he greeted the unexpected guest and looks at his younger brother with a raised eyebrow and a playful glare. “They were hungry! And you told me you were going to pick fruit so…I invited them over haha…is that okay?” Zawtxsu smiled sheepishly with his ears lowering in embarrassment.

“Well it’s a little bit of short notice don't you think? It’s fine though, you boys are welcome anytime. You guys are lucky I picked some extra fruit” Aeytemey smiled ruffling his brother's hair before walking to the other side of the home sitting down on a woven mat and placing the basket of fruit in front of him. “(Y/N)! Do you want to help me prepare the fruit?” he called out while beginning to pull all the fruit out.

“Who is (Y/N)?” Neteyem asked and turned his attention to his friend, confused. “Did your brother finally get a mate?” Lo’ak interrupted, also bringing his attention to the boy. “What? No! (Y/N) is my little sister!... You guys knew we had a sister right?” Zawtxsu said, looking just as confused as his friends were.

They all stared at each other in silence before a voice caught their attention pulling their eyes in the direction where the door was. “Sure! But I want to show Zaw the feather we found!” a young girl said while walking in and ran up to Zawtxsu shoving the feather she had found in his face, He laughed and grabbed the younger girl's hand pulling it away so he could get a better look. The feather was a rich blue color and faded to black at the tip with some white stripes on the edges. “Wow, tsmuke! It’s very pretty, where did you find it?”

Neteyam and Lo’ak watched the girl as she walked in with curious eyes. ‘Wow she's pretty’ they thought at the same time while both their tails swung behind them eagerly. Zawtxu gave a glance to his friends and took a mental note before looking back at his younger sister.

“I and Aey found it when we were picking the fruit! It was under the leaves!” She spoke excitedly while pulling her hand back and admiring the feather. “Do you want me to put it in your hair?” Zawtxu asked, the girl immediately nodded her head yes and took a spot between his legs, back facing him so that he could braid the feather into her hair.

As she sat down handing the feather to her brother she looked forward and was greeted by two unfamiliar boys staring down at her. “I’m sorry! I didn’t see you guys there. Kaltxì” She said, giving the boys a bright smile while waving to them with both hands. They returned a smile and waved back saying hello. “I’m (Y/N)! What is your guy's name?!”

Lo’ak, unbeknownst to him, started blushing as he stared more at the girl sitting in front of him, looking up at him with her doe eyes and an adorable smile that caused the corner of her eyes to crease. His tail behind him began to sway more as he introduced himself. “I’m Lo’ak…It’s nice to meet you,” He said slowly, his eyes drifting away from her, up and made eye contact with Zawtxsu who had been staring at him the whole time. Lo’ak quickly cleared his throat and turned away.

“I’m Neteyam, it’s nice to meet you (Y/N)! I hope we can become friends in the future” Neteyam smiled shyly at the girl. “The feather looks beautiful in your hair by the way,” he said while scratching the back of his head. The girl's cheeks slowly turned purple as she covered her face trying to hide the blush. “Thank you Neteyam! I think the beads in your hair are pretty!”

“Really? Oh uhm, thank you!-“ “I’m finished, now go help Aey” Zawtxsu cut the boy off and patted her head while helping her get up. She said a quiet thank you and ran to where the eldest brother was cutting up the fruit and sat down next to him. Neteyam and Lo’ak’s eyes followed her figure as she walked away.

“Can you guys not stare at my little sister like that? She’s off limits.” Zawtxsu said sternly with a slight glare as he watched his friends make googly eyes at his sister. “Wh-what? What are you talking about?” Neteyam stuttered, pulling his eyes away from the girl. “We weren’t looking at your sister..pfft…” Lo’ak replied while looking at his friend and rolling his eyes.

“Your tails have been wagging like baby nantang when seeing fresh meat.” Zawtxsu said with a deadpan expression. “Just stop it, it’s weirding me out, bro”

Finally (Y/N) and Aeytemey finished washing and cutting the fruit and it was time to eat. Everyone gathered around sitting in a circle with a plate in each of their laps, Neteyam sat next to (Y/N) and Aeytemey while Lo’ak and Zawtxsu sat in front of the three.

They all made small talk with each other, talking about their day and what they did, (Y/N) told the boys about when she went to the designer and learned how to weave a top piece, she went on about how she was going to design it with different feathers and pretty sparkly beads, all the boys just listened to her talk. Lo’ak and Neteyam especially as they listened to every word, watching how her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was excited about.

While (Y/N) listened to Aeytemey lecturing Zawtxsu about how he holds a bow and Lo’ak laughing at him, she could feel eyes staring at her. She turned to the side, looking up, and met eyes with Neteyam, when she followed where his gaze was, it was on the yovo fruit that was on her plate.

“You like Yovo fruit too? They are my favorite but my brothers don’t like them that's why we only get one” the girl spoke to the older boy, blush filled his cheeks as he got caught staring. “Oh! Uhm..no-“ but before he could finish Lo’ak butted in. “Stop lying, bro! Yovo fruit are his favorite!” Lo’ak said while snickering.

(Y/N)’s ears twitched up at the news and smiled grabbing a piece of the fruit before holding it up to Neteyam. “Here! Have some!” Neteyam lifted his hand from his lap and went to grab the fruit out of the girl's small hands but before he could grab it she pulled back her hand with a confused expression.

“What are you doing? I’m trying to feed it to you!” She exclaimed and moved her hand up closer to the boy's mouth.

He gets taken back by her forwardness but realizes she probably didn’t understand how it was a little weird to hand feed him like how she usually did with her brothers, so he slowly leans in and takes the fruit in his mouth, a smile on his lips when he pulled back tasting the flavor on his tongue. Lo’ak was right, they were definitely his favorite.

Lo’ak watched with wide eyes, not expecting (Y/N) to feed him the fruit, hes stares in jealousy wishing that it was him who you fed the fruit to. “I like Yovo fruit too! (Y/N) they are my favorite too!” Neteyam looked over at his brother confused, Lo’ak hated yovo fruit…what was he talking about? “Lo’ak you said you hate-“

“Here! I have plenty to share!” The girl reached over holding the fruit up to the boy's lips, Lo’ak stared at the fruit in slight disgust but took it into his mouth chewed it quickly, and swallowed with a forced smile. “mmm m-my favorite!”

Aeytemey laughed to himself holding a cup of juice to the poor boy. “Here you look thirsty,” he said, giving Lo’ak a wink. Lo’ak silently thanked him and drank the whole cup trying to get rid of the horrid flavor in his mouth. “That’s what you get” Zawtxsu muttered under his breath while rolling his eyes at his friends.

“Oh! I have something!” (Y/N) said and abruptly stood up and rushed to her hammock, where there was a small chest underneath. She pulled it out and started digging through it, tossing some toys and clothes that had been in there. Neteyam and Lo’ak looked to the other set of brothers for an explanation but they just shrugged their shoulders and continued to eat. “Found it!” The girl shouted and ran back to the group who were still sitting down with something in her hand.

“I want all of us to be friends! So I made these special beads that you can put in your hair! They are the same as mine!” She said holding her hands out, Aeytemey cleared his throat and gave her a knowing look, telling her to be polite. “Only if you guys want to!..” she said looking down shyly. Aeytemey nodded his head in approval and patted her leg.

Neteyam and Lo’ak sat up and leaned over to look at the beads she held, they were small yellow beads with a design carved into them. “I would love one thank you (Y/N)!” “I’ll take one!” The brothers shouted while picking one out and holding it in their hands. “Yay, we can all match together now! Even Zawtxsu has one too!”

The boys look to their friend who had a grin on his face holding one of his braids and shaking it as if saying ‘you thought you were special huh?’

perm tag list: @eywas-heir @gender3nvyy @kenzi-woycehoski @ilovejakesullysdick @definitelynot-here @buckyb4rnes @iikatsukii @jakesully-sbabygirl @fanboyluvr

#atwow x reader #neteyam x reader #lo’ak x reader #avatar x reader

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softtdaisy · 2 years

Text

SATISFIED

DESCRIPTION I falling for peter is easy. letting him go when your sister fall in love with him too is harder.

PAIRING I tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

WORD COUNT I 3,4k

A/N I i quite like this story??? i was listening to hamilton soundtrack and satisfied has always been my favorite song so i thought why no write something around that?

WARNING I mention of sex, mention of an agression at the beginning

You went through hard times in your life. But nothing could ever beat watching the man you love getting married to your little sister.

You were on your first year of nursing school when you met Peter Parker. It was a night you could never forget, no matter how hard you tried.

During that year, you had taken a small apartment to be closer to your school. Meaning, you also had to get a part-time job to pay the rent. This explained why you were out at 11 p.m. on a Tuesday night, still wearing your waitress suit. You loved the dinner you were working at. You loved less how the customers could be so mean.

You were so absorbed by your phone, telling your little sister about the stupid customer that throw his beer at you, that you didn’t notice the man in front of you. Even if he was the guy, you were actually writing your text about. It was so dark that it wasn’t until you bumped into him that you realized you were not alone in the street.

“Shit, I’m so…oh.” You didn’t finish your sentence. You couldn’t after meeting those dark eyes. If a look could kill, your family would already be preparing your funeral. The grin on his face immediately told you that you were in a bad situation. You tried to escape it, “sorry, I’ll just…” but before you took a step forward, the man grabbed your wrist. So hard that his ring skinned you.

“I don’t think so, baby.” So, you were getting assaulted in the street simply because you had a big mouth?

When you tried to explain to your attacker and his friends that there were no fries anymore since the dinner was closing in a few minutes, they laughed. “Go make them yourself honey, that’s what you do as a woman, no?” Your mother always taught you that no man in the world had the right to treat you like shit. You thought she meant men that you were dating, which explained some of your breakups. But you learnt pretty early in life that she meant every single man.

“I don’t know, if we are on the cliché, does that mean that you’re good at…nothing?” You asked with a little smile. You weren’t surprised he didn’t appreciate your remark. You didn’t think he would throw his beer at you and start listing every single insult he knew. Before he got to start his list a third time, your boss evicted him. Something that, apparently, he didn’t appreciate either.

“You think I’m good at nothing, right?” you didn’t say anything. You were trying to think of a way to run away but as long as he was holding you, you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. Not even a good punch in his balls would be enough. “Let me show you how wrong you are.” You knew where this was leading. Just the thought of it made you shiver. You closed your eyes instinctively, hoping that it would change something.

Somehow, it did.

Suddenly, the pressure on your wrist disappeared. And just did the man. You opened your eyes, trying to understand what was going on. It didn’t take you long to notice the red and blue suit next to you. “What makes you think you can mess with a single woman in the street dude? That’s not cool!”

You were torn between different feelings: being relieved that someone rescued you, being surprised to see Spider-man in front of you and being quite disappointing that you couldn’t save yourself alone. But that last one quickly disappeared when you remembered that were poor chances that you would be able to do that. So, you just stand there, watching Spidey taking care of that stupid man.

“Say you’re sorry.” He repeated every time, shooting a web somewhere on your assailant body to glue him to the wall every time he refused to apologize. Soon, you couldn’t see his body except for his face. Ugh, that stupid face. “Last chance buddy.” Spiderman’s hand was just in front of his mouth, ready to shut him up for good. You vaguely heard a sorry and when Spidey turned to you to see if it was good for you, you nodded. “I’m proud of you. You’re going to do great things big boy!” was the last thing you heard before Spiderman started going away.

You weren’t so sure about what happened.

So, you decided to follow Spiderman to make sure you didn’t dream.

You didn’t think you would be able to catch him. He was literally flying between building while you were running on the ground. But then you saw him, between two building in an empty hallway. That wasn’t even the most surprising part.

It was the fact he had taken off his mask. And you could perfectly see his beautiful face.

You leant against the wall, looking at the boy who was still clueless of your presence. Apparently, before he went to save you, he was on another case. Because there was no way he hurt himself playing with your assailant and he was clearly bleeding right now. “Maybe I should treat you to thank you for your service.” you sounded flirtier than you wanted. But facing this man, it was difficult not to try something.

Peter immediately jumped and grabbed his mask. Nobody was supposed to see his face. “I don’t know you, bug boy. I’m not going to say anything.” For some reason, he trusted you. He let you approach him and touched his arm with so much softness that he kind of wish you would never stop touching him.

At least you didn’t for the whole night. When you offered Peter to go to your place so you could deal with his wound, he didn’t hesitate. It was like he needed you, a distraction from this crazy life. You seemed attracted to him, which was new for single Peter. And from the moment he put his eyes on you in the street, he wanted to kiss you. There was something magnetic about you.

It was easily one of the best nights you ever had with a man. Maybe it was the way you knew nothing about each other and how eager you were to scream this man name when he was going inside you. Just like Peter could kill to know what to moan when your mouth went down on him.

Or maybe it was what Peter told you after another round. “You’re not a satisfied woman.” He was kissing your stomach slowly and felt your laugh against his mouth. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve never been satisfied. I need more from life. You seem just like me. You’re not satisfied either.” For some reason, that made sense. You always felt like you were a spectator of your life rather than the main character. You never met anybody who managed to make you change that. You found it weird how Spider-man could feel like that. Maybe love meant more to him than you thought.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later than you met Peter again. For real, this time.

The hospital you were doing your internship in was hosting a sort of charity gala. Of course, you were invited and asked your little sister to come with you. Even if you were a happy loner, you hated being alone in those type of event.

Maybe you shouldn’t have brought her.

You immediately noticed Peter when he arrived there. He looked stunning, wearing a navy-blue shirt with a black pant. He looked kind of lost, and it was like your feet decided for you to go see him. Before you even notice, you were in front of him. “Nice to see you again, bug boy.”

Peter never thought he would see you again. He kept thinking about you, he even thought about going back to your place. But then he accepted that this night was just one perfect night. So, it was like a miracle for you to appear in front of his eyes like this. You looked like an angel. “I prefer Peter in public, it’s more discreet.”

“Then I guess you can call me [y/n]. But that doesn’t tell me what you’re doing here.” If Peter had a hard time talking with other people, he felt like an open book with you. You knew already a lot with his secret life, so it wasn’t like he could hide anything more. He talked to you about May, who you already knew. “She’s the best here! She’s like a second mom.” It made so much sense for you to get along with May. Like it was meant to be.

“I’m here with my sister…” you turned around to show her to Peter. And it struck you immediately.

You knew her perfectly. You were only a year older, so you were almost the same person. Every expression, every sound, every little thing she could do you knew what it meant. The look she was giving Peter told you everything: she had a love at first sight. How could you blame her?

From a young age, you promised you would always put your sister’s happiness first. For some reason, you thought she deserved more. You didn’t hesitate a single second and wave to her to come. “Peter, meet my sister Gwen.”

You left them alone to talk, which they did all night. At some point you caught looks from Peter, but you couldn’t do anything. Not after Gwen came to you when Peter was talking with May and thanked you for introducing each other. “He is amazing!” she sounded so happy and excited about this new thing that you had to let it all go.

Peter was hers now.

When Peter and Gwen started dating, you were avoiding them at first. Each time you were catching a glimpse of their love, you were suffering from falling for him. You never noticed how much you loved Peter until you wished he was kissing you instead of her. And you hated yourself for being jealous of your little sister. So you would rather not see them.

They had dated for a whole year before Gwen had to leave for England. When she had doubts about leaving, you convinced her that she had to put herself first. And the fact Peter had the same speech was helping. She would be away for a few months. This explained why she decided to take a break from her relationship with Peter, letting each other have fun individually. “Keep an eye on him” she told you at the airport. If only she knew how right she was…

Only a few weeks after she left, you saw Peter again. He came at your place at midnight, bleeding terribly. “Oh my god,” was the only thing you could say. It was until you started treating him that you realized the situation.

You forgot about your feelings, about how much you hated him for loving him so much. How much you hated yourself for letting these feelings grew. How sometimes, at night, you even hated on Gwen for loving him. How much you hated the universe for not letting you be the main character of your own life.

Or how good it felt to be close to Peter again.

“You shouldn’t be there…” you whispered, cleaning his wounds. You tried to focus on it to not think about Peter’s eyes on you. He was suffering like hell but he couldn’t stop looking at you. How perfect you looked, still like an angel that was saving his life one more time. Not that he was at death risk. But it felt like when he was with you, he was seeing colors he couldn’t notice with anyone else.

Peter slowly put his hand on your face to lift it up and force you to look at him. “I know” he was slowly closing the gap between your two faces to the point you could feel his breath against your lips. “But being wrong never felt more right…” he gave you one last look before kissing you.

For the first few seconds it was slow and sweet, like you were discovering each other again. Your hand got lost in his messy hair while his own hand slid on your neck to hold you. And then it changed. You sat on his laps, humping against his thighs. You were soon naked in front of him, letting his hands travel on your body. His kisses were like a fire that was burning your whole body. You almost wished you could have marks from this to remember this night.

To punish you for doing this with Peter.

“You’re killing me…” you moaned against Peter’s lips after he had finished inside you and left your body. You wanted more. You wanted this to never end. You wanted to feel his shaking fingers traveling all along your thighs forever. You wished you could record his little tired after sex laugh, the way his voice was broken could end you so easily. You watched him climb over your body one more time. “Let’s die together then.”

And you did. For weeks.

You didn’t feel very guilty about the whole situation. You knew Gwen was seeing other guys in England, enjoying her trip there as she should. And Peter knew too, otherwise he would never have invited himself in your bed.

But the day Gwen called you when Peter was at your place, you felt like a child who did a something bad. It felt like she knew. The more she was talking to you about everything she was doing there, the more you were looking at Peter sleeping next to you. You never felt worse about yourself. When she asked you if you had seen him, you shed a single tear. “No, I haven’t.”

When Peter woke up, you were already dressed. “You have to leave.” Was the only thing you told him before leaving the bedroom. Of course, he followed you, putting on his boxer to not argue naked. “What do you mean I have to leave?”

“We can’t do that, that’s not right!” you couldn’t even look at him because you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. His tired face, his pouty pinky lips that are only asking to be kissed, his chest full of his scratches… A body full of evidences of your endless passionate night.

“That’s not what you were saying last night when you were on your knees.” He snapped. No matter how bad Peter knew this whole situation was, he never thought it would end like this. He imagined you would slow down as Gwen’s comeback was approaching. Not that you would freak out one morning, out of nowhere. Or what was out of nowhere for him.

“That’s not right for Gwen. She loves you, Peter.”

“And you don’t?”

You turned around to look at him. You knew exactly what he was excepting from you. What he excepted from the first night. To be honest with yourself. To put yourself first for once.

It was like two paths opened in front of your eyes. You could only follow one. And there would be no turning back. Either you admit your feelings for Peter. Or you let your sister be happy with the man she loved. Both were incompatible. Who deserved happiness? Who was going to suffer?

You knew the answer. You always did.

“No.” you simply said before going to the bathroom. You selfishly locked yourself there to avoid him. You silently started to cry while listening to Peter packing his stuff. If you were stronger, you would run to him and kiss him. Tell him how much your life is better when he is around. But you were not. You were simply a pawn in your little sister’s happiness. You promised your father you would take care of your family after he died. This meant that you would do everything to make Gwen life better. Even sacrifice your own.

You knew that Gwen would have done the same. If you had told her how much you loved Peter, she would let you date him. Without a single hesitation. That was how good she was. But it wasn’t her role. You were the big sister. You had to put her happiness first.

“I respect your choice.” You heard Peter said on the other side of the door. “But I was right. You will never be satisfied.”

When Gwen came back, they started dating again. It made perfect sense. That was what you thought. That was what Gwen kept saying too. That they were meant to be and thanks to you they got to meet. You were their own Cupid.

That was the nickname Gwen gave you at their engagement party.

And there you were today. Being Gwen’s maid of honor and witness at her wedding with Peter.

She was the most beautiful bride you had ever seen in your life. She looked like a pure angel. You put your hands on her shoulder, looking at the both of you in the mirror. “I can’t believe you’re getting married.” You were about to cry, again. She was your baby sister, the one you were taking care of when she was younger. And now she was an adult.

“Trust me, you’ll get there one day too.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Not my plan sweetie.” It wasn’t, but mostly because the only man you’d love to marry was already taken.

You’ve seen other people since your last time with Peter. But none of them made you feel like he did. You hated to admit he was right: you couldn’t be satisfied if it wasn’t with him. If you accepted that it might be true, you still hadn’t found the strength to look for someone who will never be the one.

“Peter asks if you can come see him.” She suddenly told you. Since they couldn’t see each other, they were texting all the time. You found it cute, especially because Gwen was glowing every time, she was getting a text from him. You didn’t say anything and changed rooms to meet Peter.

Saying he was handsome would be an understatement. He looked even better than you could have imagined to the point you were breathless in front of him for a few seconds. “What can I do for you?” you coldly asked. You were not in good terms, no matter how hard you both tried. You could still notice the way he was looking at you sometimes and you wished you could tell him off. But that would be pretty hypocritical considering you were looking at him just the same.

“I wanted to make sure everything was good between us.” You could tell how insecure he was about this meeting. His voice was shaking, just like his hands that he was playing with. You were both on a side of the room, like you couldn’t be too close without letting yourself be tempted to kiss each other. Or do even worse things. “’course” you replied, already ready to leave the room.

“I should have fought for you.”

His words echoed in the room. In your head too. It was as the world stopped and you almost accepted it. Thinking that maybe you could have him one last time before letting him go for good. But like it was planned, you heard Gwen’s laugh from the other room. You never had him in the first hand. It was too late to pretend you could get him back.

“No.” you turned to look at Peter. It felt just like the last time. A simple word breaking everything again. But you were stronger. You knew now that you would never be the starring role in your life or in Peter’s. “Gwen loves you. She would give her life for you. And I know you would do the same for her. What we had was…great, but not worth fighting for. She deserved to be happy. So please…please Peter, make her happy.”

You noticed Peter’s expression at each step bringing you closer to him. It was cold, almost lifeless. You slowly put a hand against his cheek and brushed it with tenderness. It would be the last time you would let yourself do that. After today, Peter will be nothing more than your sister’s husband. No more Spidey, no more bug boy, no more passionate lover. Just Peter.

You let yourself caress his lips one last time with your fingertips. He kissed it slowly and you felt it deep in your body. Maybe that was why your voice broke before you address him three last words.

“Make her satisfied.”

#peter parker #tasm!Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker x you #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!Peter Parker imagine #tasm!Peter Parker x y/n #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x y/n #Peter Parker angst #tasm!Peter Parker angst #the amazing spider man imagine #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield imagine #my writing

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waterlilyrose · 1 year

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Got a Prompt idea for you. I was on Instagram earlier today, and saw Charitha and Simone reunited at a Dior event, and Chari referred to Simone as her sister and I was like "Aww Didi & Bon together again". It got me wondering if Kanthony's daughters (Charlotte and Mary) refer to each other as Didi & Bon like their mother and their aunt. So that's the prompt idea is Kate explains to Charlotte why Edwina calls her "Didi" and Charlotte wonders if she'll ever be someone's "Didi"...and Anthony would be glad to make her one.

Link to A03 story

No-one could deny Charlotte was a perceptive little girl. She was the most chatty and inquisitive of her siblings and did have a tendency to ask a lot of questions even when her parents didn't know the answers.

("Sweet One, can I have my breakfast before you ask me why the sky is blue?" Her Papa had tiredly answered just that morning.

"But you know everything Papa. I overheard you telling Uncle Colin. So why is the sky blue?"

"Because…the Lord had already used the colour green for the fields. And I was lying - it's your Amma who really knows everything.")

So it wasn't really a surprise when her Auntie Edwina came to visit and Charlotte had questions for her Amma later that night.

"Amma, why does Auntie Edwina call you Didi?" Charlotte asked as her Amma came to visit her before her bedtime.

"Well, Jaanu, we were little girls in India and in India, Didi is Hindi for 'big sister'." Kate explained. "And Bon is Hindi for my little sister. So I'm Didi and she is Bon."

Charlotte nodded with understanding. The little girl had heard many Hindi words before - most little girls called their Mothers 'Mama' but Ned, Miles and herself called their Mother 'Amma'. Her Amma also called her and her brothers 'jaanu' which meant 'my life'. Her Papa could also speak a bit of Hindi after their Amma had taught him over the years.

"Can I be 'Didi' like you, Amma?" Charlotte asked eagerly.

"Well, not really Jaanu. Didi is only for big sisters. And you are the youngest. Ned and Miles can call you 'Bon' and you can call them 'Bhaiyaa'."

"But I can't be Didi?" Charlotte's lip began to wobble. It was nice she could be like her Auntie Edwina but she wanted to be like her Amma too!

"Don't look so sad, Jaanu. It's only a title. And you already have siblings."

"Yes, both boys! And older than me." Charlotte pouted.

"Don't pretend you don't like them - you cried for days when Ned went to Eton." Her Amma smiled.

"...He sometimes gives me sweets. I was allowed to be sad."

Amma cuddled Charlotte close. Her Amma always smelt like lilies - Charlotte knew her Papa liked it alot.

"You are Charlotte Bridgerton, beloved daughter of Anthony and Kate and little sister of Ned and Miles. You are perfect in every way."

I want to be a Didi. And if Amma has another baby… I'll be one. And ladies have to have husbands to have a baby. I need to talk to Papa.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Charlotte's Papa spoiled her - everyone said so. Apparently little girls born to great nobles were seen as a disappointment and their fathers didn't have much to do with them until it was time to marry them off - and sometimes it didn't matter if they liked their husbands or not.

Charlotte felt very sorry for little girls who had horrid Papas like that and also a little bemused. Apparently her Papa was completely delighted with her when she was born and showed her off whenever he could. And he spent a lot of time with her, teaching her to ride her pony and letting her stand on his feet when she wanted to dance and didn't know the steps. Her Papa was kind - if Charlotte asked him very nicely, he would listen to her. If he had liked Charlotte as soon as she was born, he would like another baby too.

Yet when Charlotte went to his big important study and asked him if he would please give her Amma another baby, he'd nearly choked on his drink that was only meant for grown-ups and coughed for several seconds.

"Char-Charlotte! What's…why do you-"

"I'm a Bon but not a Didi. Amma is a Didi and I want to be one too. And Amma said I can only be a Didi if I have a little sister."

"You could have another brother." Her Papa said quietly.

"If I wish really hard every night before bed, the baby will be a girl." Charlotte told him simply.

Her Papa looked utterly stunned but Charlotte was happy to see that, after their conversation, he started to act a bit oddly. When her Amma found some of the old clothes Charlotte had worn as a baby and mused that maybe they should send them to Auntie Fran who was going to have a baby quite soon, her Papa said quietly "Why get rid of them? We might need them again…you never know."

Charlotte wished very hard that her Papa was going to explain to her Amma that another baby was a very good idea. Apparently to make a baby you had to leave your parents alone in a room together and not disturb them for a very long time (Maybe a baby was made by having a very long chat?).

Then one day Ned, Miles and Charlotte were gathered together by their parents and their Amma told them that she was pregnant and would grow a baby in her tummy until it was time for it to come out. Charlotte jumped up and down with excitement while her brothers looked a bit stunned and Ned even wrinkled his nose in disgust. Apparently her Papa had 'had the talk' with Ned when he was thirteen after Ned had been caught staring at some of the girls at the village fayre with appreciation. (Charlotte wanted to know what this talk was about but apparently neither of her parents felt up to it just yet. It must be a funny talk because Miles couldn't stop laughing at the idea of Charlotte knowing.)

So Charlotte waited as her Amma's tummy got bigger with the baby inside and sometimes put her ear to her Amma's stomach when the baby started to wriggle around. Her Amma would stroke Charlotte's curls in a soothing way.

"You have to be a very good big sister, Jaanu, even if the baby is a boy and not a girl. This baby will need you and look up to you."

"I promise." Charlotte swore.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Charlotte was made to stay on the other side of the manor when her Amma came to have the baby. Apparently her Amma might be in a lot of pain and neither her or Papa wanted Charlotte to hear. It was actually a little bit scary because Charlotte's Amma was quite ill afterwards and needed to be kept an eye on by the grumpy doctor that her Papa didn't like.

But eventually, finally, Charlotte was led to her parents' bedroom with Ned and Miles and saw her Amma laying in a bed, looking very tired but happy. And her Papa was holding a little bundle in his arms.

Charlotte was cautious. Her Papa was sitting in a chair next to her Amma's bed so Charlotte could easily see the sleeping baby. Charlotte saw a little face nestled amongst blankets with a little tuft of dark hair on the baby's head already.

"You got what you wanted, my love." Her Papa told her gently. "It's a girl."

"What's her name?" Ned asked. But Charlotte got there first.

"Bon. She's my Bon and I'm her Didi."

#waterlilyrose #kanthony #bridgerton #kathony #fanfic #fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #charlotte bridgerton #mary bridgerton #edmund bridgerton ii #miles bridgerton #kate and anthony #kate x anthony

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sweetestlittledarling · 3 months

Text

A Different Kind of Love

Part of @monthly-challenge 2024 | "I Love You'

Rating: PG

Pairing: Various

Summary: As a Aromantic I just wanted to examine some different kinds of love other then romantic on this holiday. It took me a bit but I got there...

Friendship

“You know it’s funny.”

“What is?” Sparrow asked, sitting next to her brother in the hot spring.

Robin smiled as he watched Asra and Nadia laugh as Julian told a funny story. “You would think they hadn’t missed a day of being together,” he mused, “their friendship has transcended all the pain of the past and it’s nice.”

Sparrow smiled as well. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it? Makes me hopeful that no matter what lays ahead that we will always be able to come back to this, to warm days and happy times.”

“Yeah,” Robin sighed happily, enjoying the sight of a light and happy Asra.

Student and Teacher

“What’s this?” Asra asked as Lark held out a little box in his direction.

“It’s a gift oh mighty Master Asra,” Lark answered with a grin.

“It’s from the both of us,” Sparrow added standing next to her twin. “We know Heartsong day is meant more for romantic love, but we felt we wanted to get something for you, our teacher.”

“Yeah, we know Robin is your favorite student for reasons,” Lark joked, wincing a little as his sister elbowed him in the ribs. “But we think of you as family too. I mean you are basically our adopted big brother.”

“Plus, you have taught us so much and helped us grow that we wanted to show you our thanks,” Sparrow added, smiling.

Asra opened the box and found a little rainbow crystal snake inside. Faust slithered out and bobbed her head in approval. “Cute!” she announced happily. Asra looked at the two in front of him, and smiling warmly wrapped an arm around their shoulders pulling them close. “I am proud to call you both my students and I am even happier to call you, my family.”

Sisters

“I’m glad you and Julian ended up together Sparrow,” Portia said, with sly grin.

“Oh, and why is that?” Sparrow asked.

“Well, I always wanted a sister and I have a feeling you feel the same way.”

“Well, there were times,” Sparrow laughed. “Are you saying you consider me a sister Portia?”

“Yep, and as my sister I hope that you will help me in pranking my brother at least a few times.”

Sparrow’s eyes narrowed evilly. “Oh, I am so in.”

Somewhere else Julian felt a chill run down his spine.

Brothers

“Wait I did what?”

“You yelled at me,” Julian explained, smiling sadly. “Back during the plague, you came to my clinic to yell at me about how I let your sister down, how she was gone because of me.”

Lark blinked a few times. “I’m sorry Julian, I don’t remember any of that.”

“It’s okay. I actually think it was good, like a wake-up call that I needed. I hadn’t even realized that she had gotten sick and you yelling at me made me realize that I had forgotten my responsibility to those around me, though it took me a little while more to actually wake up.”

“Well, if it helps any,” Lark said, rubbing the back of his head in a guilty way, “I don’t blame you for any of it, not any more anyway. I actually think of you like a cool big brother now, well brother-in-law.”

Now it was Julian’s turn to blink. “You do?”

“Yeah, of course you did make my sister cry, which is not cool, but if don’t do that again then we will be square.”

Julian grinned. “If I do, I give you every right to punch me in the face.”

Lark looked thoughtful. “Nah, though I think I might throw some rotten eggs at you just so you get the message.”

Brother and Sister

“You’re staring,” Robin said, making Julian jump.

“Sparrow said you were quiet, but I didn’t realize just how quiet,” the doctor chuckled, putting a hand to his heart.

Robin grinned wide. “Makes me all the more deadly a foe, or the more able to catch my siblings doing something they shouldn’t. Speaking of siblings though- “He looked out to the garden where Sparrow was helping Portia with some gardening. “It’s funny, isn’t it? I mean as a big brother you must feel it to.”

Julian nodded. “One minute they are little girls, and suddenly they are capable women able to do some amazing things?”

“It’s nice and a little sad,” Robin sighed, “but I figure they still need their big brothers now and again.”

“If only to have someone to get angry at,” Julian laughed.

Community

After the fall of Lucio there was much to do. The city was in need of desperate need of fixing. People from all walks of life came together to fix what had been broken, making sure everyone had what they needed. Muriel watched and a small part of him healed as he realized that the city, he had come to despise was starting to feel a little bit more like home.

Parent to Child

“I don’t know what I can’t believe more,” Lark said, as they all sat around the table in the magic shop, “that we are having dinner with Asra’s parents or that Asra was actually a baby once and didn’t just pop out of magical thin air.”

“Lark!” Sparrow warned but Salim laughed.

“No, I can assure you that Asra was conceived by very normal means,” he said, taking his wife’s hand. “In fact, we can show you some images of Asra as a baby if you like.”

It was one of the few times any of his apprentices had seen Asra flustered, as when his parents showed them his magical baby pictures.

Between Pet and Owner

Faust was spoiled for choice when everyone was home at the magic shop. She always could hang with Robin, or get head pats from Sparrow, or curl up with Lark. And of course, there were treats and snacks. But the best part was that it made Asra happy and that made Faust happy. “Family!” she hissed as she basked in love.

Found Family

After making the deal with the magician Asra found himself listening more. It had been quiet for far too long in the shop and he just needed to take in all the noise three other people could make. There was never a moment where there wasn’t some kind of noise and while to some that might have been bothersome, it meant that life had literally returned to the magic shop. He closed his eyes, and just took it in. When he opened his eyes, he found Robin looking at him with some concern. “You okay Asra?”

Asra smiled. “Yes, better than I have been in a long time.”

Work Love

Sparrow enjoyed watching Julian work. When things weren’t too stressful, and he was really in his element it was like poetry in motion. He was so skilled with his hands and his words, able to help each patient deduce exactly what the matter was and how to proceed. She wondered if she had felt this enamored with the man when she was his assistant, figuring that she must have had at least a crush on him because he really was a good doctor, even if he didn’t see it sometimes. Sometimes he would catch her watching and there would be a wink, or a flash of a smile and she knew things were good.

Self-Love

There weren’t many mirrors in the hut, which Lark had assumed was because of…reasons. But at some point, he did manage to convince Muriel to allow him to bring a hand mirror over from the shop. Muriel even let Lark show him what he looked like now. For a moment Muriel just looked in shock. “What do you think big guy?” Lark asked. “If you ask my opinion, I think you look pretty good but then again I’m pretty biased.”

Muriel hesitated and then his lips turned up a little. “I look…better.

Love of an Object

“You know there are better things to tie your hair up with,” Sparrow told her brother as Robin went to tie up his hair with the little red ribbon.

“I know,” Robin said with a little smile, “but it was one of the first thing Asra ever gave me and I would hate to part with it.”

Love for a Rival

“I should have guessed that it be you who would stab me in the back,” Julian said, voice dramatic as he glared. “You who would steal away the heart of the one who I loved the most.”

Sparrow couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she continued to pet Malak who just eyed Julian as he puffed up happily (and a bit smugly).

Love for a Teammate

“You ready Faust?” Robin asked.

“Ready!” the snake said, bobbing her head as she settled around Robin’s shoulders.

“Two against one,” Asra laughed looking at them over his cards, “hardly seems fair.”

“I will take any advantage in order to finally beat you at this game!” Robin said, eyes focused. “I refuse to be the loser at strip poker for a third time. I will see you in your underwear in this game so help me.”

No surprise, he later lost.

(Robin has the worst tells ever which all the better for Asra.)

Love for a Supporter

Lark really enjoyed starting up a sports club for some of the orphans, especially since he could see the pride in their eyes as they played. He even got Muriel to come and watch. The big guy wasn’t exactly the most ecstatic cheer section, but everyone could tell he was really into the game, making sure that all the kids were supported. He didn’t even complain when by the end he became a jungle gym for some of the younger ones.

Love for Motivation

This is what Asra lived for. They were all seated around the veranda after dinner, just chatting and laughing. All of them, everyone he had come to love and cherish in his life was here safe and happy. He realized that it really had been all worth it in the end, this gift of a life where he could have them all with him. There would still be bumps ahead as life never ran that smoothly but honestly, he could weather it all for all of them.

(The last one was inspired by the ending of the Heartsong tale, because I love how Asra loves everyone just to be happy!)

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gothhabiba · 1 year

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Hi! Morrocan mint tea anon here.

I’m not Morrocan myself, but due to family relationships my dad spent a lot of time with his little brother’s Moroccan family, and brought me along, so I grew up with a lot of Moroccan food as a child, including Moroccan mint tea.

I’m sorry if I was weird about it! I’ll try and keep my eye on these kinds of things in the future. I noticed you were talking about Morocco in your last post, and made the comment. I’ll do a better job of not making unnecessary comments in the future. I’m truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable!

It is very common for racialised people to be approached and addressed specifically and immediately on the topic of food—upon being told, guessing, or otherwise extracting information about my ethnicity from me, the #1 comment a (usually) white person will usually give me is about how much they love Moroccan food (the #2 comment is about how their mother's bassoon teacher's dog's vet's sister was from Iraq or something, lmao)—I recall reading on a white woman's cooking blog's recipe for warqa dough that she had gotten the recipe by seeing a woman at a park, guessing that she was Moroccan, chasing her down, and immediately demanding to be taught how to make it.

This is, like I said, a very common trope, and it's tiring and uncomfortable in the same way that anything that is repeated often is uncomfortable—but especially so since food is literally something you consume—a culture with which someone associates you (thus, in a way, you) is being reflected back at you through their eyes as symbol, destination, thing, object of desire, but never "structure," anything with depth or life of its own. This sort of thing puts me in mind of the Orientalist project (which, in fact, originated in North Africa)—create a curiosity for a culture, present it as a series of curios, things to be experienced, foods to be eaten, décor to be purchased, all in a way that reinforces the right of the coloniser both to extract material value from the nations it imperialises but also to present that culture to his or her own nation, or even to itself—to say what the culture is "like," which objects the culture consists in (so that these objects, and the labour required to mine, forage, harvest, and/or craft them, can be forcibly extracted from the colonised or imperialised country, and demand for these objects can be created in the colonial 'centre')—that is to say, to present a culture or shoved-together group of cultures as nothing more than a series or collection of objects or vignettes.

I also find it odd that, not only did you immediately associate Morocco with this object and need to tell me about it upon learning that I was Moroccan (and really, what am I meant to say in response?)—you also, assuming you learnt this information to-day, found it out as a result of racist and Islamophobic harassment being directed against me due to my ethnicity—and then, rather than commenting on or denouncing said racist harassment or just, like, continuing to scroll, you made a comment about food...... perhaps you didn't see the series of asks I got from this person (just to-day, though there were others a few months ago, and there were more in my inbox that I just simply deleted), but you can see why this gives me pause.

I really don't mean to berate you btw—I appreciate your apology & wouldn't bother explaining any of this if I didn't think you were being genuine

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hannahssimblr · 3 months

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Chapter Eighteen

Back in Clontarf, I perch at the gleaming, marble island while Jude prepares dinner. I watch him doing it with undisguised interest, because he cooks the way that I imagine he makes art, fully absorbed, with precision and confidence, and completely and utterly in the flow of his own enjoyment. He connects his iPhone to a Bluetooth speaker and plays music for a while, until Ivy bursts in and complains that she can’t focus on her homework with all of the noise.

He switches it off for her, but even in the silence he moves around to the beat of the music in his head, with a smile on his face that only endures the more stupid questions I ask him about what he’s doing. He’s making a spice mix in a pestle and mortar, he’s coating the fillets in flour, that’s actually rose water, not vanilla, yes, he taught himself how to do this, those flowers are actually totally edible, they’re not just there to look good, so a shallot is actually stronger than an onion, that’s why he’s using it. He prepared a lot of it earlier, marinating fresh fish in harissa for hours, and par boiling the potatoes so that they’d be oven ready by the time we got home from visiting Jen, and when I ask him where he found the time to do all of this he explains that he was simply procrastinating, because he doesn’t want to write his thesis.

We eat at the dining table with Ivy, who shovels the food into her mouth in the span of about five minutes despite her complaints about it tasting bad, and gives a series of very bored, one word answers to his questions about school in between mouthfuls. He reminds her that she should practise for her piano lesson tomorrow and tells her that he can’t collect her from afterschool hockey so she’ll have to get the bus. It occurs to me that this is perhaps the most un-sibling like relationship I’ve ever witnessed. Perhaps it’s a symptom of their age gap.

“Where’re your parents tonight?” I query once Ivy rushes off to her bedroom to reconvene whatever teen girl things were interrupted by dinner, and he looks down at his plate. “Working late again.”

“Seems like they really like to work.”

“They sure do. Or they really like not having to be in this house.”

He’s said things like this to me before, these kind of vaguely troubling statements about his parents in very casual, matter of fact ways, as though they’re entirely absent and have no love for each other whatsoever, and this is something he finds normal. I’ve never asked him about it before, and something I’ve never quite been able to handle the idea of broaching, but now, since we’re… kind of, sort of going out with each other it suddenly feels important to know whether his expectations for his own relationships are different to his parents’ strange marriage.

“What is it about them?”

“We don’t have to discuss these grim things about my family, it’s alright.”

“We don’t have to, but I think I’d like to know about it.”

He pushes his food thoughtfully around his plate. “They just shouldn’t have gotten married, I suppose. I think they meant well initially but it’s ultimately done more damage than good.” He glances towards the closed door and up towards the ceiling, where his sister is, and lowers his voice a little bit. “I think they’ll probably get a divorce as soon as Ivy finishes school.”

“Oh.”

“I’m the reason they’re married, and she’s the reason they’re still together. They had this amazing idea at one point that having another child would solve all of their issues, but now they’ve just trapped themselves in a bind for an extra nine years. They could be blissfully divorced by now, but they won’t do it until she’s moved out, because they don’t want to disrupt her schooling.”

“How old were they when you were born?”

“Nineteen and twenty one.”

“Oh, God.”

“Yep, big mistake. Whoops.” he tosses a chunk of potato into his mouth and leans back in his chair. “Mom finished school and went to stay with her aunt in America, took up a job at a department store in Albuquerque, hooked up with a med student at a bar on her first month there, and well…” He throws up his hands in mock celebration. “Here I am!”

“I suppose that being unmarried with a child wasn’t really an option for your mother at the time.”

“No, not at all, I mean, she had come from catholic Ireland. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to live at home again unless she married the man from that bar.” The way he speaks about his father is strange, as though despite his presence in their lives, he’s still some random, nameless med student from San Bernardino.

“And then what?”

“Well, then my dad continued school, and my mom began her studies and my great aunt took care of me on and off until my dad got his doctorate degree. Then they had Ivy, on purpose, by the way, and when she was a baby we moved back here.” He shrugs. “That’s all.”

I breathe out a laugh. “You’re so cagey.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah it’s like you don’t want to talk about them, or your home life, like, ever.”

He doesn’t look like he’s all that bothered by my interrogation, he just gives me this self-effacing little smile. “Come on, Evie. It’s because this stuff is boring.”

“I don’t think it’s boring at all.”

“Well, okay. They didn’t want to be together, they shouldn’t have had kids, and they act like they never did because they barely parented either one of us. Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at letting things drop?”

“Yeah, loads. Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at talking about serious things?”

“Of course.” The corner of his mouth quirks up and he lifts my arm from the table to kiss the inner part of my wrist. “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?”

“Yes, you. Tell me what it was like for you when you were growing up.”

“I’ve told you loads about my childhood already though.”

“Yeah, you have, and I loved hearing about how badly behaved you were and what it felt like to live in America, but I wish you’d get into the guts of it, the real stuff.”

“The real stuff?”

“The stuff that makes you so clearly sad. You get that look on your face whenever it comes up.”

He hasn’t let go of my wrist, and now his thumb is gently stroking the skin that he kissed a moment before while he stares out into the garden through streak-free glass patio doors, and he chews on his lip before deciding to speak. “Well, when Ivy was born I stopped being a kid, I suppose. My parents didn’t have a lot of interest in caring for either of us, and I was lucky, because my great aunt in Albuquerque did all of that for them when I was little, but when we moved here the support system really fell away. Nobody had considered that. We have my mom’s parents, but they’re about as warm as she is, and even though we’d be dumped over to theirs at the weekends, it wasn’t like we had especially fun or memorable times. Usually we’d get some bucket of crap toys from the seventies and whatever was on the three TV channels that they had. They were okay, but Ivy was a really nervous toddler. She didn’t like being around unfamiliar people, to the point that our grandmother would have to roll her bottles down the hallway to where she was hiding at the bottom of the stairs so that she’d drink anything at all. She just screamed whenever either of our grandparents came near her. It just wasn’t working out, so we eventually stopped having to go, and by then, when I was like eleven, it just made sense that I’d look after her instead.”

“What did that involve?”

“Everything. Feeding her, dressing her, putting her to bed, shopping for food, toys, eventually bringing her to the creche. She used to go to the childminders while I was at school, but only until I finished at three or four o’clock, and then I’d swing by and get her. A child collecting another child, like, I don’t know if they’d let that kind of thing happen anymore, but it was a small family run childminders, the kind of lawless place where they have this one old granny looking after about twelve children in her house and everything and anything goes. My mom used to come home and cook dinner for a while, but she was delighted when I got old enough to do that for her too. It meant she could stay out of the house for longer and do whatever she used to do. Have affairs or whatever.” He huffs out a laugh. “I mean, I really don’t know if that was ever the case but I wouldn’t be that surprised. Everything got really confined because of Ivy, you know? I always had to be home, and helping, and collecting and living my life on this schedule while all the other teenagers were just being blissfully selfish and… just teenagers.”

“But you had time to yourself, surely?”

“Yeah, at night when my parents were finally home from work, but I mean, yeah, it wasn’t about not having time to do hobbies or hang out with my friends, it was about having to do it at all. It was about having to consider those things. Nobody should have to parent their siblings, it was really stifling and really unfair. If my parents wanted another child then they should have been prepared to take care of her. You can’t just offload that responsibility onto the older child. I resented it, and I still do.”

I spear my fingers into the side of his hair and run my hand down the back of his head. “That’s why you went to Berlin.”

“I just didn’t want to do it anymore.”

“You shouldn’t have ever had to.”

“Right.” He hesitates and his teeth rake over his lower lip, pulling the skin until it’s taut and white. “I just feel like going to Berlin was the most selfish thing I could have possibly done though.”

“No way.” I say. “It forced your parents to do what they should have been doing all along, and look after your sister.”

“Yeah but it didn’t really do that. I look at Ivy now, and she’s doing a lot of those things I used to do for her all on her own. My parents never stepped up like I hoped they would, so she’s just becoming another teenager with too many responsibilities, and parents that will divorce as soon as they can and leave her without a solid base to come home to when she’s in college. And then, you know, on the other hand I think about Jen, and how bad everything has become for her and I know that if I’d stayed, and if I’d been here for her then maybe I could have-”

“It’s no use thinking that, Jude. You had to be on your own for once. You can’t hold up the whole world on your shoulders.”

“I’m selfish.” His voice is acidic, and the moment I feel his fingers loosen on me I grab a hold of his sleeve, because all of a sudden it feels vitally important to keep a connection between us.

“You didn’t get a proper childhood. I’d be even more selfish if I were you. You need to be doing the things that you want to do, seeing the world, partying with your friends, all of that stuff that you’ve been doing for the last four years. It’s all food for your soul.”

“You’re too forgiving of me. It’s okay to say that I’ve been generally inconsiderate.”

“You’re way too hard on yourself.” I say quietly. “And you know that’s not true. You’re a good person, and you were always so nice to me, even when I was quiet and shy. You made an effort to talk to me at that time that Jen invited me to that modern art exhibition in Dublin, and you made me feel so included and asked so many questions about me even though I felt so nervous around you both.”

“I feel like that’s the least anyone could have done.” He says sulkily, as though he doesn’t really feel like being talked out of his mood. “The more I dwell on it the more I think there is something seriously wrong with me. Something that should have been figured out a lot earlier, but like, here I am, a twenty two year old, in the final months of my final year at college and I feel a bit… I dunno, lost, or something. I’m floundering, and I don’t really know who I am anymore. I swore I had it figured out at eighteen but now that seems laughable to me.”

“Nobody tells you how weird it is to be in your twenties.” I declare. “They insist that it’s amazing and fun and you’ll have all of this independence, but actually it feels strange and vulnerable, and there’s no rule book about how to navigate your way through it. One day you’re a stupid teenager and the next you live on your own and you have to know how to use the city bus and remember the pin of a debit card.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s alright that you find it hard, is all I’m saying, and I for one, feel like I truly knew nothing about being an adult. To be honest sometimes I get a bit freaked out by how lost I feel. But then I try not to think about it, and I just go on with my day.”

“That’s your advice?” He says, with the hint of a smile threatening to crack through the gloom. “Just don’t think about it?”

“Probably shouldn’t be, should it?”

“I think that’s terrible advice, Evie.”

“Well that’s all I have for you.”

He leans into me and lightly kisses my jaw before going back to his food, and the featherlight touch of his lips sends shivers right down to my toes. “Well I think we should think about hard things.” He says. “I think that ignoring them only gives them more power, actually.”

“Maybe some things aren’t meant to be processed now. They’re meant for later.”

“How much later?”

“I don’t know. Just later.” I push the last of my dinner onto my fork and into my mouth and try not to feel self-conscious about the fact that he’s watching me like I’m under a spotlight.

“I just want you to know that if you ever wanted to talk to me about any of the things that happened you in first year then-”

My chair makes a hideous scraping noise against the parquet floor. “Do you have any pictures of you when you were small?” I say, wiping my hands on the thighs of my jeans, and he blinks. “Um. Why?”

“Just when we were talking about your childhood, like,” I stack his empty plate on top of mine. “I was wondering to myself what you might have looked like as a little boy. That’s all.”

“There are some, somewhere yeah. I can root them out if you want.”

“I’d love that, would you mind?” I hastily pack things away in the dishwasher, and I put the plates in crookedly, and I can’t find where the cutlery goes, and Jude is there, and he takes the forks out of my hands and gingerly places them into the sink.

“It’s fine. Leave it.” He says. “Come into the living room, I’ll get the baby photos out.”

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#lucky girl part 3

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