#and at the end of the day please be hopeful. we are nothing if we don't have hope. please do not lose hope.

[dualityvn]

Keith would turn to hypnosis or brainwashing to make us love him if he’s fully snapped…?

Could I maybe please request a drabble about that por favor 🥹

Sweet Vacation

CW: kidnapping, brainwashing, fork harassment

Word count: 1345

You ignored the first signs that Keith wasn’t doing well mentally. When he’d turn his back to you at night and sob silently, you’d pretend not to hear it. When he’d spend his evenings staring out the window for hours on end, eyes glazed over, you’d find things to busy yourself with. 

It did annoy you when he put a tracker on you. The fight that followed only made things worse. He became constantly paranoid, asking to hear your voice every hour you weren’t home, having breakdowns when you so much as left the room he was in. 

There was no doubt that he wouldn’t accept it if you tried to break up with him. You never bothered to start the conversation. You simply packed your things one day, blocked his number and left. 

Unfortunately, he’d used more than one tracker. 

- - -

You awaken to an unfamiliar hardwood floor, head pounding and limbs stiff. So stiff, in fact, that you aren’t able to move them. Your eyes shoot open as you tug on the ropes tying your limbs to the chair you're sitting in. 

The room you’re in is unfamiliar, a lavish living room with wooden walls and a large fireplace. A sweet, mind-numbing fragrance catches your attention. Possibly, the herbs burning in a bowl on the coffee table before you. All the curtains are drawn, so you fail to see anything outside. You can’t remember how or when you got here. 

The sound of footsteps approaching brings your attention to the closed door. Keith appears from behind it, looking much more frazzled and unkept than usual. His hair is a bit messy, he’s not wearing the usual concealer under his eyes and his collar is askew. 

“My love! You're awake!” He rushes over to you. 

“Keith! What the hell did you do to me? Where am I?!” 

He shushes you as he caresses your cheek. You want to scream at him, fight against your restraints, yank yourself away from his touch. But for some reason, as soon as those thoughts enter your mind, they fade away. 

“Everything's alright, dear. You're safe now. I'm sorry about the ropes, but there was no other way. I'll take them off once they're not needed anymore.” 

There is nothing sane in his gaze. His eyes are big and alert and his smile is too wide for comfort. 

“Where are we?” you ask, much calmer than you'd like. 

“Somewhere where nobody will bother us! Don't worry, it's just the two of us.” 

You don't know what he's done to you, but your fear, anger and alarm are all much too mild. 

“Oh! I've made you lunch! Let me grab it for you before it gets cold.” 

He rushes off through the door, then returns with a plate of food and a fork. The sight and smell of it makes your stomach grumble. For how long were you out? 

“I hope you like it! Open wide!” Keith holds some of it out in front of you. 

Thoughts of turning away or refusing the food pass through your mind, then leave just as fast. You reluctantly open your mouth. 

Even when he's crazy, he manages to make infuriatingly good food. You do not complain about being fed the entire plate. If you want to try to get out of this situation, you'll need the energy anyway.

“You ate everything! Good job!” he praises you cheerfully. 

Then, he looks down at the fork in his hand. His eyes flicker between it and your mouth for a moment. Until they eventually settle on you as he brings the fork near his face and licks the part that's been in your mouth. Once his tongue reaches the tips of the tines, he sticks them entirely in his mouth. 

You stare at him, dumbfounded. Before you can say anything about it, he sets the fork back on the plate and turns to leave. 

“I'll bring you a glass of water! Can't let you get dehydrated!” 

What the hell was that? How far gone is he? 

You finally get your brain to cooperate and attempt to struggle against your bindings. Unfortunately, they're tight and secure. Looking around, you can't spot anything sharp enough to cut them. 

When Keith returns, he's brought back not only your glass of water but also a small satchel. You eye it curiously as he helps you drink. 

And once it's done, he sets down the glass and opens up the satchel. It's full of herbs, some of which he places in the bowl with the others. That mind number scent hits you again. Any thought you'd had of escaping is beginning to blur.

As if reading your thoughts, Keith answers. “Just a little something to help you relax! I know you're probably quite stressed.” 

He puts the satchel away and picks up a book instead. “How about I read you something? That way you won't be bored!” 

You want to say no, you want to reason with him, ask him to let you go, convince him none of this is necessary. But none of it leaves your lips. 

“Okay,” you say instead. 

- - -

It's been two days since Keith locked you up in this house. He's fed you and kept you hydrated. When he's not been taking care of you, he's been keeping you entertained or simply chatted with you. 

Perhaps it's your fault you've ended up this way. You ignored the signs that he wasn't doing well. You weren't a very good partner overall. 

This morning he made you heart shaped pancakes with strawberries. It was kind of cute. 

Perhaps you don't need to escape, perhaps he will snap back to reality and release you himself. The two of you aren't good for each other. 

- - -

Four days have passed since Keith brought you here. He untied you from the chair but kept your wrist handcuffed to his to make sure you don't run away. 

It's a pretty nice vacation home. Apparently you're in the mountains. The view from the balcony is stunning. Although it gave you a bit of a fright when you woke up here four days ago, it isn't so bad. 

Keith still insists that you let him prepare meals, despite you being able to help now. You can't believe you treated him so coldly before. When he discovered you had bruises on your wrists from the rope, he cried and kissed them better. 

At night, when you get ready for bed, he asks if he can cuddle you. If you say no, he keeps his distance. When you do give him permission, he holds you tight and whispers that he loves you. He smells sweet, a bit like burnt herbs. 

- - -

It's been a week since the start of your little vacation. You took a walk through the forest this morning, hand in hand with your beloved boyfriend. He told you about the plants that grow here and which ones are safe to eat. He's so smart! 

When you got back, you made lunch together. He’s been a bit down and anxious the past few days, but today he was in good spirits. Though he still won't tell you where he got the new perfume he's been wearing. It's so sweet, it makes you want to hold him close constantly. 

Now that it's evening, you're both sitting on the couch, cuddling as you watch TV. Keith holds you against his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. You feel safe here. 

“I love you,” you murmur. 

He stiffens at once. Thinking there must be something wrong, you pull away to look at him. A mixture of shock and joy battles on his features. 

“I love you too!” Tears are spilling from his eyes. 

You laugh and cup his face, holding it still so you can kiss away his tears. Your boyfriend is so sentimental. His hand brushes over your chin, silently asking you to lean down. His lips quiver against yours, soft and uncertain. You press in lovingly. 

Even the taste of his lips is sweet.

[inkdrinkerworld]

In response to your post,

Thinking about poly!marauders and how they’d know you’re having a bad day before you can even say it because they know you better than you probably know yourself.

Unless you’re the type of person that likes to talk about it, they won’t even say anything, just pamper you.

James would 100% make a last minute grocery trip so he could cook your favorite meal.

Sirius would cuddle you all night long and always be touching you in some way to provide comfort.

And Remus would draw a relaxing bath that’s equivalent to being at a spa.

I’m thinking lots of tender kisses to the forehead, soft voices, and the sweetest declarations of love and care.

If you decide to talk about it they will be the most attentive listeners. Sirius would 100% be engaged, responding with gasps, coos, groans, and angry declarations of beating someone up if they’ve hurt you. Remus would be quiet until you’re done talking and then drop the most earth shattering wisdom or the most comforting words ever. And James would be providing all sorts of physical support- rubbing your back, holding your hand, pushing hair away from your face, pulling you onto his lap, etc.

By the end of the day you’d totally forget about the bad day you’ve had.

Manifesting this for you love, and I hope you feel better soon<3

James has you in his lap with your stuffed bear loosely in your hold as you cry into his thigh.

“Hey, ease up a bit in the tears poppet. You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

Sirius strokes your hair as Remus brings in a bowl of your favourite for dinner.

“It’s all over now, hm? You’re home and we’ve made your favourite for tea and Remmy will give you one of his amazing massages before bed.”

Remus nods when you look up with teary but hopeful eyes.

“Course I will, but you’ve got to eat something first.”

You nod, your bear clutched tight in your hold as you sit up. “Thank you guys,”

Sirius tuts, kissing your sticky cheeks just before Remus passes you the bowl of warm dinner.

“It’s nothing, baby,” he levels you with a look when you go to argue. “What do you say we look at ‘Christopher Robin,’ hm?”

You perk a little, “Really?”

James chuckles, arms a little tighter around you as Remus and Sirius shuffle about on the sofa to sit beside you both. “Yes really, angel.”

By the time you’re a third of the way through the movie, Remus is already giving your legs a massage and you’re basically asleep on James’ lap.

It doesn’t stop his hand from coasting up and down your back or his lips from pressing into your temple.

“Reckon I could make her breakfast in the morning, something special.” He murmurs to Remus, Sirius is already falling asleep on James’ other thigh with his fingers tangled in your hair.

“That’d be sweet Jamie, what’re you thinking?”

James looks down at you, upset by your bad day but pleased he and your other boyfriends have helped.

“Maybe crepes, haven’t made them in a bit. Could start the batter tonight and everything.”

Remus presses a kiss to his lips with a fond smile. “You’re sweet, she’ll love that.”

James is all flushed but knows that Remus is right- you will love it. “Dunno how I’ll slip out from under them but the second I’ve figured that part out I’ll get it started.”

Remus chuckles softly, softening when you stir a little. “Sleep sleep, love.”

[justanothermemestrider]

Nothing Ever Stays Dead - Part 9

Sgt Gadriel x Childhood Friend OC

Someone break out the confetti and the party poppers cause IT'S FINALE DAY BABYYYYY 🎉🎉🎉🎊🎊🎊🥳🥳🥳

(if you need to catch up, the masterlist with all the previous parts is here)

We got typical 40kness and some real nsfw-ness under the cut, as well as inevitable spelling and grammar mistakes, which I apologise for.

I got a longer A/N at the very end, so for now, thank you for reading, and if you'd like, please consider liking, reblogging or commenting :)

Enjoy!

Despite Titus’ offers, Gadriel does not stay in the lieutenant’s quarters nor return to his own. Instead, he heads straight for the training hall. He needs to exorcise this anxiety. Flush it out with sweat and rage. It’s the only thing he can think of that might help. 

It doesn’t.

He lifts weights, punches bags and swings training blades. But no matter how much he exerts himself, his mind will not rest. Soon, his still-healing wounds start to twinge. But Gadriel welcomes it; pursues it, even. Pushes his body to the point of pain in the hope that it might smother his thoughts and distract him from his feelings. 

But that doesn't work either. Even when it pushes him to tears. Even when he's forced to take a knee and lean on his training blade because it feels like his stomach might just tear open. The fear won't fade. The frustration won't fade. The guilt, the worry, the helplessness… 

Gadriel drops his chin to his chest. He's breathing hard. Sweat pours down his bare chest and runs down his face. Soon, though, it is joined by tears. And his breathing becomes interrupted by choking sobs.

I can't lose her. Like some sort of twisted carousel, those same four words spin around and around in his head. I can’t lose her. I can’t lose her. 

With a grunt, Gadriel forces himself to his feet. He returns his blade to its rack before collecting his shirt and stalking out of the training hall. He’s bound for his quarters, but it isn’t to rest or cool off. He needs his undersuit, his armour. He’s not going to let her spend one more minute locked in another cell, waiting for death. Damn what Titus had told him. Damn what the Codex or his duty demands of him. Those things had taken her from him; wiped her from his mind, made him break his promise without him even realising it. But no longer. Never again.

Because I can’t lose her. Not again. I can’t. 

He reaches his quarters in no time. Once again, his serfs have left the door unlocked and Gadriel curses them for it under his breath. Usually, he would only reserve a modicum of irritation for such a thing, but with how dark his mood is at present, it feels like a personal slight. 

The door slides open as he approaches. Eyes low, Gadriel thunders inside like a storm. 

“Not a bad place you’ve got here.”

Gadriel staggers to a halt. Both of his hearts stop dead in his chest. 

“Smaller than what I expected,” Ellie says thoughtfully. “What with how big you are and how much space you take up. But still, it’s nice. Almost… quaint.”

She’s perched on his bunk, one leg drawn up towards her chest, the other hanging off the bed’s edge. Her tattered tunic and leggings have been replaced by a grey jumpsuit that Gadriel recognises as a repurposed engineering uniform. Still short of a prosthetic arm, Ellie has tied the sleeve on its left side into a knot at the shoulder. And that’s not the only modification she’s made. She has cinched the suit’s waist with a leather belt so as to show off her figure and left the front unzipped to reveal the low v-neck of the tank top she’s wearing underneath. She grins as Gadriel takes in the sight of her; the fact that she’s here, right now. Alive and free and smiling. 

Ellie opens her mouth to say something, probably some other quip or humorous remark. But before she can, Gadriel has her in his arms. Dropping to his knees in front of where she sits, dragging her into his body, holding her as if she might turn to ash in his grip at any moment. 

Tears well within his eyes. He buries his face into Ellie’s neck before letting them fall.

Despite how tightly he’s holding her, Ellie manages to free her arm and wrap it around his neck. Gadriel feels her cheek press against his, hears her chuckling softly. 

“It’s good to see you, too,” she says. 

“What are you doing here?” Gadriel asks. His voice is muffled by her hair and the crook of her neck. “How are you here? Did you escape?”

“Escape? No! No, nothing like that.” Gently, Ellie starts to draw away, presumably to meet his eye. Gadriel, however, refuses to let her go.

“Gadriel,” she says softly. She brings her hand to the back of his head, runs her fingers up and down his scalp soothingly. “It’s alright. I’m okay. I’m not in any danger, I promise.” 

Gadriel waits one cycle of deep, ragged breath before finally relaxing his grip. His arms, however, remain firmly wrapped around her. Ellie pulls away, cupping his cheek and guiding his gaze up to meet her own. 

“What’s going on?” he asks. 

“Sit down. This is… this might take a bit to explain.” 

Gadriel does as she says, getting to his feet before joining her on the bunk. He sits on her right side, taking her hand in both of his enormous ones. Ellie smiles lightly, but she must see the worry still lingering in Gadriel’s face, because immediately after, her expression turns reassuring.

“Titus and I have worked something out,” she says. “A way for me to stay here with you without putting either of us at risk.”

��How?” Gadriel’s tone is sharper than he’d intended. Already, he’s wary of this “way”. As much as he trusts Titus, any compromise made with the laws of the Imperium is a dangerous thing. Dangerous, and rarely without sacrifice. 

Ellie continues. “Did Titus tell you that he had Magos Galeo examine my cybernetics?”

“Yes. He said the results were dire.”

“That’s… certainly a word for it,” Ellie says ruefully. “But it wasn’t the one the Magos used. See, he called it “extraordinary.””

Gadriel narrows his eyes. Without thinking, his grip around Ellie’s hand tightens. Ellie picks up on it right away. “I know what you’re thinking, and at first, I was thinking it, too. But Galeo doesn’t wanna dissect me- he wants to recruit me. As a sort of… unofficial apprentice-slash-assistant.”

“And you agreed to this?” 

“I mean… yeah,” Ellie says. “It was either that or I try to become a chapter serf. But that never would’ve worked; not when I’m eighty-percent alien metal. If my life was placed under the jurisdiction of the Ultramarines, I’d have been executed on the spot.”

“I would also never ask you to indent yourself to anyone,” Gadriel adds. “Not even to me.”

That makes Ellie smile. “Oh, you sweetheart you.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.” Leaning into him, she rests her head on his shoulder. “And I’d have never put you in that position.” 

“So… a Magos’ assistant, huh?” 

“Far as ad-mech go, Galeo seems pretty chilled-out. He wants to still study me, of course- that’s really the only reason he wants to keep me close. But his rank will mean I’m well-protected, and my status as an unofficial member of The Machine Cult will keep pretty much everyone else off my back, for the most part.” He feels her shrug. “It’s the best I can hope for. Titus thinks so too. Besides, could be fun. As creepy as the ad-mech can be, they’re fascinating in their own way.” 

Gadriel is quiet for a moment. He looks down at his lap, where he’s holding Ellie’s hand. It’s entirely dwarfed by his own, enormous ones, as if she were a porcelain doll. 

“Gadriel? Are you okay?”

Unable to look at her, he shakes his head. “I’m sorry you have to do this,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry you can’t just… stay.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ellie replies. 

“I know, but… it feels like it is.”

“Why’s that?”

Gadriel sighs. In the pit of his stomach, something hot and heavy is pulling at him. The same thing that’d driven him to his knees back at the training hall. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I… I just wish there was something I could do. But the only thing I can think of is leaving the Ultramarines, and I can’t even do that.”

He squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m useless to you, Ellie,” he murmurs. “I can’t protect you. I’ve never been able to protect you. Not from the Underhive. Not from Severus. Not even now.” 

Ellie sits up, leaving his skin cold as she lifts her head from his shoulder. She withdraws her hand as well, and in his state of emotion, Gadriel fears she is about to leave. But instead, she brings her hand to his face. There’s pain in her eyes, but it isn’t hers. It’s his. 

“Gadriel, listen to me,” she says. “This arrangement with the Magos… it’s not your fault. It’s my choice. If I wanted, I could have chosen exile. I could’ve fled to some backwater sector, put down a few roots and live the rest of my life in relative peace. But I don’t want that, Gadriel. Not as much as I want to be with you.” 

Gadriel goes to shake his head, but Ellie stops him by tightening her grasp. Gently, she caresses his cheek with her thumb.

“And everything else that has happened to me,” she continues. “It isn’t your fault, either. You didn’t abandon me; you were taken away. And when they had you, you had as much of a choice in what you did as I did when Severus took me. I understand that now. I didn’t at first, and I’m so sorry for the things I said to you then. But now I do. And I don’t blame you for any of it.”

The affection in her gaze is almost too much for Gadriel to withstand. When was the last time someone had looked at him like that? With so much love; not for his service or his position or his duty, but simple, genuine love for him? 

Of course… It had been her.

“And, you know,” Ellie continues. “Now that I think about it, in the end, you didn’t even break your promise, either. You did come back. It may have been by coincidence, and it may have been fifty years late, but you did it. You came back to me. Just like you-”

Gadriel leans across and kisses her hard on the lips, smothering her last words. Cradling her cheeks with hands too gentle for their size and design. If the kiss takes Ellie by surprise, she doesn't show it at all. Sliding her hand up the back of his head, she tangles her fingers in his hair; her favourite thing to do when they kiss, ever since they were teenagers. With that thought, a surge of memories overcomes him; the first time she'd kissed him, during one of the many night they'd spend gazing up at the stars from the roof of his mother's slum; all the kisses of good luck, goodnight and goodbye that had followed; the kiss that had led to their first night shared together. Like a river finally freed from a concrete dam, all these memories come flooding back to him. With every one that returns, his love for her swells more and more. 

Ellie is sitting in his lap now. Knees either side of his waist, her breath growing short as she works her mouth against his. Gadriel can feel her breasts pressing against his chest, the squeeze of her thighs as she straddles him, his hips almost too broad for her legs. Tension coils in his belly. A wave of heat flushes his entire body before pooling between his legs. He lets himself fall backward, pulling Ellie with him so she's flush against his front. The bunk creaks with the impact. The weight of her body on top of his floods Gadriel's nerves with a concoction of comfort and pleasure so potent it almost makes him gasp. It also twinges the wounds in his right side, and the gasp that pulls from him, Gadriel can't manage to stifle. 

Ellie breaks the kiss, pulling away and looking at him in concern. “What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Sheepishly, Gadriel shakes his head. “I'm fine. It's only my side.”

“Oh, Throne!” Despite her dark complexion, Gadriel sees Ellie's cheeks suddenly redden. “I completely forgot, I'm sorry!”

Gadriel laughs. “You're fine. Don't worry.”

She runs her hand through his hair. The sensation sends goosebumps prickling across his skin. “If you say so,” she whispers. “Though, maybe it'd be better if you were on top; less chance of me accidently bumping you, then.”

For a handful of moments, Gadriel doesn't understand her full meaning. When he finally does, his eyes blow wide. “Do…Do  you mean-”

“Throne, Gadriel, you're giving me deja vu here.” Ellie grins from ear to ear. “Yes. That's exactly what I mean.”

The coil in Gadriel’s stomach tightens. It's joined, however, but a pang of anxiety. “Are you certain?” he asks. 

“Darling, what did I just say about deja vu-”

“No, no. It isn't like that. It's…”

Her expression turns serious again. “What?”

“Well… It’s…” Gadriel pauses to take a breath. Gather his words. “I'm not… the same as I was before.”

As sharp as always, Ellie understands his meaning right away. “Oh Gadriel…”

“I don't want to hurt you,” he whispers. “I don't want to– to frighten you.”

“You could never do either of those things,” Ellie says. She emphasises the point with a kiss. “Besides, you're not the only one,” she adds. “Eighty percent necron, remember? I'd say that makes us about even, don't you think?”

The quip makes him smile, but his anxiety is not so easily dissipated. “Ellie-”

He's cut off by warm skin touching his bare chest. Lifting up his shirt, Ellie slides her hand up and over his right pec. Her fingers trace his scars; both those sustained in battle and those left by the surgeries that'd turned him into what he is now. When she reaches the top of the muscle, she finds its neural port; one of dozens of black cybernetic nodes riveted into Gadriel’s body. Her thumb brushes over its surface. It sends stimulated shivers running through his entire being. “You could never hurt or frighten me, Gadriel,” Ellie says again. “Never.”

Then, ducking her head, she presses her lips to the same neural port from before. A soft, involuntary moan tumbles from Gadriel. He claws his fingers into the linen sheets beneath him. 

“Now,” Ellie whispers into his chest. “Flip me over. Take me. I'm yours, Gadriel. I've always been yours, and I always will be.” She kisses the port again. Again, shivers grip his entire body. “So, take me.”

That is all Gadriel needs to hear. 

*********************************************

Clasping his hands around her waist, Gadriel reverses their positions. Throwing Ellicent onto his bunk, he looms above her, framing her head with his enormous, thickly-built arms. A giggle escapes her lips. Throne, he’s enormous now. And strong. She can see it in his bulging forearms, the vice-like grip he has on the sheets beside her head. The strength to crush a skull in his fist, to turn bones to dust with a single punch. She’d always known that, of course; but it was one thing to see a space marine’s size and strength and another entirely to be pinned underneath it. But Ellicent isn’t afraid; she’s enthralled. And she knows underneath all of those scars, enhanced muscles and reinforced bone is her Gadriel. And as she had promised just moments before, he could never frighten her. He could never hurt her. 

Ellicent grabs a handful of his shirt, starts dragging it towards his head. Gadriel rears up to pull it off the rest of the way, then tosses it to the floor. Even years ago, when they’d been underhive street-rats, his body had always been impressive. But now, it’s like a work of sculpture; his chest and shoulders almost burst with the size of their muscles, and his abdomen is a terrain of shapely rises and valleys. Neural ports and surgery scars form symmetrical patterns all the way down his front, while battle scars- gashes, stab wounds and energy burns- are slashed more haphazardly. The pair of wounds from the Drukhari impaler have also scarred over, but instead of the dull pink or white of his other scars, these are still a bright, tender red.

Carefully, Ellicent runs her hand across his torso, then his chest, before finally cupping his cheek in her palm. Gadriel leans into her touch. Closing his eyes, covering her hand with his own. But it is only for a moment. Just like her, desire is tugging at him. And when he reopens his eyes, it burns as a hunger that’s almost animalistic. He grabs the shoulders of her jumpsuit, working her arm free from its sleeve before sliding it underneath her hips. Ellicent kicks it the rest of the way off, leaving her in just her panties and a thin white tank top. The latter, Gadriel practically tears off her. But when his eyes land on her naked torso, he pauses. Ellicent knows why. She’d been anticipating this moment. Dreading it. 

Carved into her skin, zig-zagging over her right hip, spilling across her breast and reaching up towards her shoulder, are lines of metal. Necronian metal. Pitch black and glowing green. They’re artifacts from her augmentations; each one marking a spot where the alien technology had been imperfectly woven into her flesh and grafted to her bones. Ellicent watches Gadriel’s expression anxiously. In her heart, she knows he won’t judge her. But even so, her fear remains. Finally tearing his eyes away from her shame, Gadriel meets her gaze. She smiles weakly. “I know. Horrifying, right?” 

Gadriel’s face softens. He touches her face, his hand so gentle despite its size. She waits for him to say something, but he does not. Instead, he lowers his head, cups her mutilated right breast and takes its nipple in his mouth. 

Ellicent lets out a gasp. Goosebumps ripple across her skin and her fingers claw into Gadriels’ scalp. Arousal throbs between her legs, made so much sweeter by the unspoken things he's telling her with his actions. That he doesn’t care what’s happened to her. He doesn’t care what she’s become. He loves her all the same. The same way he did when they were young. 

“Gadriel…” his name falls from her lips as a whimper. Her voice is weak with need. “Gadriel…”

With a final kiss, Gadriel releases her breast. His hands find the hem of her panties. He only manages to get them halfway down her thighs before his own desire overwhelms him and he buries his head between her legs. 

Ellicent’s whimpers turn to cries. Her hand forms a fist in his hair, dragging him closer, pressing him harder. Throne, how she has dreamed of this. How she has prayed to have him back, to have him take her like this all over again. In the decades since their separation, Ellicent had shared her bed with other men; but it was only to turn out the lights, close her eyes and pretend it was Gadriel. But now, she never has to pretend again. Because he’s here. He’s right here. And Emperor knows she is never letting him go again. 

She can feel her sex growing slick. Like a fire on the horizon, she can see orgasm approaching fast. But Ellicent doesn’t want it. Not yet. Not until he’s there with her. 

“Gadriel,” she says, sharper this time, so he knows it is not merely a whimper. 

“My love,” he murmurs into the skin of her left inner thigh. The feel of his breath makes her body shiver. 

“I’m- I’m ready for you.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” Ellicent breathes.

Gadriel looks uncertain, but he obliges. Rearing up once more, he unties his breeches, pulling them down to the knees. His cock springs free. Purple, aching and larger than even she had been anticipating. He sees the surprise on her face, and his already flushed cheeks turn a shade redder. “Ellie, I’m-”

Ellicent sits up, silencing him with a kiss. “Not a word,” she says through a smile. “It’s perfect.”

He pauses for a moment. “If I’m hurting you,” he eventually says. “You’re to tell me, alright?"

Ellicent strokes his cheek. “I promise.”

That seems to be enough to set him at ease. Laying her back down, he adjusts himself so his hips are aligned with hers. Then, sliding an arm under her waist to support her, he enters her as slow and gentle as he can. 

Sounds of stimulation tumble from both of them; Gadriel’s low rumbling moans, Ellicent’s sharp, high-pitched gasps. Ellicent grips the massive muscles of his shoulder blades, as her body stretches and throbs around his enormous length. She can feel his back moving with his breath, which is quickly growing shallow and rapid. But he doesn’t move. Not yet. 

“Are you okay?” he rasps into her ear. 

Ellicent gives herself a moment to catch her breath. “Oh, Throne,” she whispers. “This feels like my first time again.”

“Is… is that a good thing?”

Ellicent gazes up at him through half-lidded eyes. Her lips part in a gentle smile. “What do you think?” 

Gadriel returns her smile. Still holding her around the small of her back, his other arm cradles the back of her head. Then, finally, he begins to move. 

Immediately, stars burst in Ellicent’s vision. Her hips buck against his, grinding against his pelvis. Gadriel grunts with every long, deep thrust, the sound loud, primal and utterly lusting. Ellicent throws her head back. Her exhales devolve into breathy, whimpering pants. The tension in her belly winds tighter, tighter. Kicking her panties all the way off, she locks her legs around Gadriel’s waist. Pulling him closer. Thrusting him deeper. Winding the coil tighter, tighter. 

“Ellie…” he moans into her ear. “Ellie, I-”

“I know, darling,” Ellicent gasps. Throne, she can barely even form words. 

“I… I-”

A tremendous growl cuts him off. He buries his face into the crook of her neck and his thrusts suddenly double in pace. Ellicent cries out in ecstasy. Her legs fall from his waist as they tremble uncontrollably. The tension between her legs finally snaps and orgasm seizes her every nerve. Gadriel isn’t far behind. As her body squeezes him, his growl becomes a roar, and with one final, penetrating thrust he spills his seed within her. Ellicent breathes hard through her mouth. Slickness, both Gadriel’s and her own, trickles down the inside of her thigh. Her fingers find Gadriel’s hair. Gadriel lifts his head before pressing his forehead to hers. His eyes slip closed, followed by Ellicent’s. For several moments, they remain like this. Bodies interlaced, hearts pounding in a shared, slowing rhythm. Coming back to one another from their shared high. Ellicent is the first to break the silence. “What were you about to say just now?” she whispers. “Before… you know…”

Gadriel’s voice is low and gravelly from his laboured breath. “I was about to say I love you.”

Ellicent opens her eyes. Wrapping her arm around his neck, she kisses him fiercely on the lips. “I love you too,” she murmurs. “More than anything in the world.” 

Eventually, Gadriel rolls onto his side, taking her with him. Ellicent curls up against his body, resting her cheek against his chest. She can hear his heart beat; slower and louder than the last time she’d listened to it like this, but no less familiar. She smiles lightly to herself. 

“I had something else I wanted to ask you." 

“Anything,” Gadriel replies. 

“All the humans aboard this ship- from serfs to the mechanicus staff- they all call you “My Lord.”"

“That’s right. What of it?”

“Well,” Ellicent says. “If I’m going to be the assistant to the Magos-”

“Oh, Throne-dammit,” Gadriel mutters. 

“Does that mean I have to call you that, too?” 

Gadriel scowls. “I swear on the life of the Primarch-”

“What’s the matter, my lord? Is thy Lord Astartes ailed by something?”

“Keep that up,” Gadriel grumbles. “And so help me, I will hand you over to the Inquisition right now.”

Ellicent laughs. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He pretends to think about it for a moment. Then, draping his arm around her shoulders, he plants a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re right,” he says finally. “I wouldn’t. Not even with a bolter to my head.” 

Ellicent waits for the punchline, but it never comes. Instead, he says it with complete earnestness. It makes her smile. “You’re the absolute sweetest thing, you know that?”

Gadriel kisses her crown again. “Just to you,” he whispers. 

Ellicent’s smile broadens. Soon, it is joined by the sweet sting of joyful tears. It's really him, she thinks; things she already knows, but still finds so unbelievable. He never abandoned me. And after all this time after being taken away, he found his way back to me. 

**********************************************

We did it! Hooray! We made it to the end- and it was a happy ending!!!

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who has read, liked, commented on and/or reblogged any part of this fic series. It took a long of time and energy to make, so seeing all your feedback and responses just motivated and inspired me to no end.

This isn't the last of Ellie and Gadriel, either. I plan to do some more, cool things with their characters and their stories, so stay tuned for that!

Thank you again, I hope you enjoyed, and stay safe out there xoxo

Taglist: @solspina @beckyninja @egrets-not-regrets @wolf-feathers12 @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @moodymisty @hatsubara-8chan @nereidof40k @yanagikou @fyxestroll @yurihasurunbara @lylakoi @passionofthesith @finchly-tintinnabulation @justfreakynothingelse

[twisted-dreamscape]

Twisted Wonderland: ADeuce love triangle

The way you met was unfortunate to put it lightly, and to say it was a trick of fate would be a bold-faced lie, but that never stopped him before.

Ace Trappola was a menace; to the school, to his dorm and to his friends, but it wasn’t until today that he seriously sat down to think about it. Because today, he was considering confessing to his best friend, not Tweedle Dee or Tweedle Dumbass, but the Prefect, or as he called you when you were new, ‘Grim’s Useless Janitor Friend,’—he was screwed.

And yet he couldn’t bring himself to do away with the possibility of your unlikely friendship becoming something more. Being with you was…fun, in a way that promised much more if it was just you two. At first, he ignored the feeling, hanging out in your little group of first years. He’d quip, Grim would sneer, Deuce would jeer and you’d laugh. Oh, but how you’d laugh always drowned out everything else. When your party grew, nothing really changed. There were the others, and they were fun! In fact, they seemed more fun without you! It was like he could breathe again, as opposed to flinching when you inevitably became the center of attention; back then he wondered if he even considered you a friend. Everything else seemed to fall away when you were near, but still, it was so much more fun with you. Those days when everyone else was held up in club activities, or with dorm work or homework, and it was just you. Those days when a study session with Deuce and Grim nodded off into a study session for two, and those days when you chose him as your partner or teammate, for whatever reason. Homework was a breeze, studying became compelling and movie nights were a delight. Everyday was the most remarkable and forgettable all at the same time—all he could call to mind was your smile, and whatever made you smile. The days when through some happenstance it was just you and him were the most special to him, and he was finally tired of waiting for happenstance.

Classes had ended for the day, but he could barely recall what went on in them. Today Ace would confess. In hand, he had those treats you liked, a bribe for affection as well as a tool for evasion should you reject him. In fact, the possibility of rejection weighed heavily on his mind, you knew everything about him and even he had the wherewithal to admit some of that everything was less than flattering in a romantic partner, but the fact that you still kept him close—even as a friend—gave him hope, as if between you there was nothing to hide. Alas, such things were embarrassing in their own way, so he was prepared to shove the treat in your mouth and play the whole thing off as a joke. You were in sight and by all means, he was ready.

…Until Deuce raced out in front of him and grabbed your hands!

“Prefect, I need to talk to you about something seriously important! Right now! Please!”

”Uh, sure.”

”Great! Let’s go!” He gently, but firmly pulled you along, moving his other hand to your back.

Past Main Street, past the Mystery shop and past the Hall of Mirrors. It wasn’t until you passed in front of the botanical garden and entered the field near Ramshackle Dorm that he finally noticed he was still holding your hand, he jumped back, dropping it. Not far behind was an increasingly peeved Ace.

First he had to watch Deuce grope your hand the whole way to the back of YOUR dorm, but somehow him nervously dropping it made things worse! ‘Like, what is he? 4? Holding your hand doesn’t mean anything! You letting him hold you doesn’t mean anything!’

As Ace carefully drew closer, Deuce and you stood apart in dead silence, almost like you were waiting for him to get in earshot. Finally, Deuce was able to wrench the words out of mouth.

“Prefect! No, Y/N!”

“Yes?”

“I…You, you’re amazing!” He clenched his fists as though preparing for a fight, “Since the moment we met you’ve always seemed to know what to do. It’s like nothing ever fazes you. You're one of the highest ranked students in our year, the teachers all seem to rely on you and even Housewarden Riddle trusts you ! You’re the definition of an honour student.”

Ace slowly relaxed, ‘Oh, he called you out here to fangirl? That’s fine…’ But something still felt off, and you felt it too.

You remained silent as Deuce took another deep breath, “I wanted to be like you. You made it seem effortless, natural. It felt like I was doing everything wrong. Like I had no business trying.” He averted his gaze for just a second, and you were already reaching out to him, but he bounced back, “Then I saw how much effort you put into everything you do. Some nights the lights in your dorm are on till well in the morning, Jack said you practically live in the library, you sometimes take on work at the Monstro Lounge despite everything! And still you take the time to help us out whenever we need it.You’re not from this world, but you don’t even let that stop you. You’re so smart and kind and really pretty,” the slight blush that was creeping up his neck now completely enveloped his face, for whatever reason Ace’s legs were as stiff as Deuce’s were shaky, “that is to say, I love you!”

‘What. The. Hell!’

Ace nearly screamed his thoughts, meanwhile yours stopped at ‘What’ while fighting to catch up with how Deuce buttering you up turned into an ardent confession. Ace on the other hand…

‘What kind of low grade, slice of life, romcom confession was that!? Love you? He can’t love you! You're both just a couple bunch of dumb teens! What the heck was he saying?’ Like you his brain was fighting to catch up with the proclamation, it was only when you spoke up that he snapped out of it.

“Deuce…” one of your best friends, ally in mischief and cohort in honour. All these connections seemed to dry your tongue, but you owed him a response because of that, “Love…is a strong choice of words. I know you care for me, I could never doubt that from you, we’re friends after all,” he flinched at the word, “you’ve been a great support, and I don’t think you give yourself enough credit for how you’ve helped me and others. You’re one of the people I trust the most in this world and mine, but love means something more. It suggests things, it promises a future that’s more uncertain than anything we’ve ever considered.” You struggle to look him in the eye.

And Ace finds himself nodding in agreement, if not a little bitterly. It was difficult to accept, but he knew exactly what you were both talking about, after all, you’re not even from this world—and there was no guarantee of how long you’d stay here. It was enough to pour cold water on his own passions, but he’d already come to terms with that possibility. Of course, it was heavily influenced by your departure not being guaranteed, but he knew and was prepared to accept your decision when it came to it. But even so, ‘I love you’ is a bit much for a high school confession. He couldn’t help but think that even that Dunderhead Deuce would get it now—

“I promise!” He didn’t miss a beat, “I know it sounds rash, and I know that I’m not thinking it all the way through, but everyday it feels like you could disappear right before my very eyes and it hurts!”

“Deuce.”

He took your hands in his, “I know we’re still students and a lot more’s gonna happen, but thinking everything through isn’t my strong suit, it’s yours, and I trust you and any future with you. So even if you deny it, I’ll still love you! Will you love me too?” His face was as red as his vest, but he didn’t back down, he just peered into your eyes.

You opened your mouth, but the words didn’t come. ‘What-if’ scenarios flood your mind, but none lead to any concrete answers. You had already decided you would go home should the chance arise. You had never been in a relationship before, it was uncharted territory that you had seen end in heartbreak. He’s one on your only safe allies in this world, what if he stops loving you? Questions and possibilities clouded the decision with maybe, his eyes remained as clear as the blue sky.

Your silence was torture, ‘Just reject him already,’ it wasn’t a certainty, but that made it all the worse. In Ace’s mind Deuce had as good of a shot as him, if not better—if that 3-word sentence didn’t knock it down a touch. You were friends too, even if he refused to acknowledged it. Still…even without considering the fact that he picked on you when you first met, while Deuce helped you; since then, what had he done besides actively add to your problems and leave you with the cleanup? That was it. He had to step in before—

“You’re right, it is rash,” Ace stepped back behind his cover, fist pumping silently, “You declare your feelings one-sidedly and then leave me to do the thinking!” Deuce lowered his head at your scolding. At this point, Ace almost felt bad for the guy—almost. “Do you even understand how fragile a relationship like that between us would be? You’re right, I could disappear anytime! Either as mysteriously as I appeared or owing to some eventual solution.” Both boys winced at this, even you bit back a cry, “In your proposed future, I wouldn’t just be losing all the friends I’ve made, but my boyfriend as well!” This time, you couldn’t silence the woeful crack in your voice, prompting the blue haired boy to pull you into his arms.

“Y/N, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—“

But you shook off his arms as easily as flipping over a hedgehog, “If you want to make that kind of promise, I NEED YOU TO UNDERSTAND just how thin the thread that’s holding it is!” You gave him a moment, and to Ace, it felt like he was given one too, “And if you do…would you let me try to love you too?”

“Buh?”

‘Wha?’

“You called me cautious, but I’m scared,” you pressed your face into his chest, “I plan because I’m too scared to be rash. But you always act based on how you feel and when I see you just going full throttle, I can’t help but want to be like you…and just like you…a lot, but I’m still terrified of liking you more, so will wait for me? Will you let me just say ‘I like you’?”

“Oh, O-of course! I lo—like you too! I really like you!”

“Then I’d be happy to be yours. I really like you too.” You took his hand in yours and you both left the clearing.

Ace didn’t know how long it had been since you two went off to do who-knows-what—but it was almost curfew. Did he even have a chance with you? Ace pushed off the tree he had been leaning on. He felt tired, but he didn’t want to head back to the dorm, after all, he would probably be there. But he couldn’t go to Ramshackle…he wasn’t ready—and he had know idea when he would be. He liked your smile, but today he just couldn’t stand to see it.

[in1-nutshell]

Hello!! (Your way of writing is amazing)Can i request a Batfam Buddy?? They are around Duke's age, they came two years before him. Bruce saw this kid fighting crime, with the name Nightjar, and decided that they would fit well with the rest. Buddy was from crime alley, and they had met the red hood a couple of times, but accepted them as a new vigilante.

After joining the family, Buddy became close with everyone rather quickly, especially with Jason. The other loved this new sibling, but couldn’t understand why they were always close with Jay. They wanted to know.

One day, they made Bruce ask them, because Buddy would probably tell Bruce, they were close with Bruce first and then became close with Jason. Bruce asked them and This kid just said, that it isn’t favouritism, it's just that Jay and i get along very well.

The others decided to let it go for the moment. But later realized that this kid was, in fact, A MINI JASON. They acted like him from time to time, said thing that Jay would say, and had the ability to tell Bruce off without consequences. Dick saw his little wing in this new kid, and out of nowhere began to hug them when they acted too much like Jay Jay.One time Bruce froze when Buddy said something Jason once said to him back in his robin days, he hugged Buddy and told them to kever lose their spark. Buddy didn’t mind the hugs, they adored them.

Mini Jaybird? Mini Jaybird! (And thanks for the compliment!)

Hope you enjoy!

Bat Buddy who is like Jason Todd

SFW, Platonic, Famialal, Human reader

BATFAMILY

Buddy was the next adopted kid Bruce took in before Duke showed up.

2 years to be exact.

Back then Buddy had gone around Gotham as their own vigilante known as Nightjar.

And no, they will not elaborate on why their name sounds so much like Nightwing’s.

Gotham Goons run into a dead end just as Nightjar shows up behind them. Nightjar: “Times up boys. Didn’t anyone tell you stealing was bad.” Goon 1: “Shoot! Its Nightwing!” SLAM! The goon gets hit in the face with a trash lid. Nightjar: “DO I LOOK LIKE HIM!?” Goon 2: “Wait! Wait! Let’s make a deal! If I get your name right, will you let me go?” Nightjar: “… You get one try.” Goon 2 with full confidence: “Jar Jar.” Nightjar: "…” Batman comes in a minute later to see two goons with beaten faces and Nightjar dusting their hands. Nightjar: “Jar Jar… what a—Oh hey Bats!” THWAP! They activated their grappling hook and zipped away. Nightjar: “Bye Bats!”

For a vigilante, Nightjar sure did pack the speed and hiding capabilities as a seasoned hero.

Almost every moment Batman had tried to interact with the small-time vigilante, they always seemed to give him the slip.

Something the others had teased him about.

… Not that they had much better luck.

Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin return from patrol. Nightwing: “Sheesh, B wasn’t kidding about them being fast.” Red Robin cracks his back a bit. Red Robin: “Are we sure that they aren’t a speedster?” Robin: “Not fast enough for that Drake.” Red Hood looked at them confused. Red Hood: “So they gave you the slip again?” Nightwing: “Yeah.” Jason: “Ha!” Red Robin: “Oh please, like you can do better.” Red Hood: “I was just with them a few hours ago.” Robin: “No one finds that funny Todd.” Red Hood shrugs and walks off.

Red Hood had in fact been with them earlier.

The vigilante usually worked on some of his old patrol routes when he was Robin.

Both occasionally hanging out on gargoyles and sharing patrol stories.

Jason liked the kid and always offered a midnight snack on slow days.

Nightjar was sitting on their usual gargoyle when Red Hood arrived. They happily waved at him and patted the empty space next to them. He sat down and passed a brown paper bag to them. Nightjar: “What’s on the menu today chef?” Red Hood: “Just some leftover pasta and chicken. Nothing big.” Nightjar was already digging in. Nightjar: “Please anything you cook is godsent man. Wait is that…” They fish out 3 chocolate chip cookies from the bottom of the bag. Nightjar: “Hood!” They wrap an arm around him in a side hug. He just pats their back as they go back to eating. Red Hood: “Be thankful kid, nearly risked my hands getting these cookies.” Nightjar: “Wherever you gets these, complements to the chef! This will last me another week!” Red Hood: “What?” Nightjar: “What?”

As for Batman, he finally managed to talk to Nightjar a few nights later.

Unfortunately, under less than likely circumstances.

The pair had been ambushed by some of Joker and Two faces henchmen.

It took them both to defeat them all and take the two villains to custody.

Nightjar dusting their hands and was ready to zip out of there, but their stomach growled loudly. They hadn’t eaten a full meal in a few days and their stomach ached for some of Red Hood’s food bags. Hopefully no one had spotted the saved bag of cookies back in their box. Batman: “Hungry?” Nightjar: “Kinda, but I’ll be going now. It was fun working with ya Bat—” Batman: “I can get you some food if you like.” Nightjar was about to protest but their stomach growled even louder. A few minutes later… Both were sitting on the hood of the Batmobile eating take out from Batburger. Nightjar was happily eating their burger sitting criss crossed. Batman: “Is there a place where I can drop you off?” Nightjar: “I mean, if your okay with driving by Crime Alley.” Batman: “You live around Crime Alley.” Nightjar: “I live in the alley Bats.” Batman grows concern. Batman: “And your parents? Where are they?” Nightjar laughs bitterly. Nightjar: “Don’t know, if you find them let me know—hey Bats you okay?” Batman: “…” A few more minutes later… The Batmobile stops in the Batcave. The boys come over. Nightwing: “You okay in there B?” Red Robin: “His vital are still fine.” The door opens as Batman exits out. Robin: “Father where have you—” Batman opens the co pilot seat and holds Nightjar from under their arms. Batman: “Nightjar this is the Batcave.” Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin: “NIGHTJAR!?” Red Hood has near whiplash seeing his friend practically dangling from Bruce’s hold. Red Hood: “How?!” Alfred ‘already been through this’ Pennyworth: “I have the room ready sir.” Nightjar: “I am so confused right now. Did I just get kidnapped—Hi Hood!” Nightwing: “How do they know you?!” Red Hood: “I already told you I knew them!” Red Robin: “We thought you were being sarcastic!” Robin eyes Nightjar up and down. Robin: “If you want the Robin mantle, you will have to fight me for it.” Nightjar: “Don’t want it short stack. And also, WHAT THE F—”

And that’s how Buddy was adopted into the family.

Of course, they got formally introduced to everyone after finally getting context to what was happening.

Surprisingly when they weren’t running around and hiding, Buddy was a good person to be around.

Somehow worming their way into everyone’s hearts.

Duke arrives to the Batcave. Buddy walks over to him with a smile on their face. Buddy: “Hey there! Your Duke right?” Duke: “Um, yes? How do you know my name?” Buddy waves him off. Buddy: “If anything living with the Bats has taught me is that B is always on the look out for potential recruits or adoptees.” Duke: “Oh no, he isn’t adopting me.” Buddy pats his shoulder. Buddy: “Sure, sure, keep telling yourself that. I know it’s a confusing time and all—” Duke: “He is not adopting me!” A few months and a signed adoption paper later… Duke: “…” Buddy: “… I told—” Duke: “Yeah you told me.” Buddy pats him on the back. Buddy: “Welcome to the family Duke.” Duke smiles at them while giving them a pat as well.

But there was one member of the Batfamily that they were nearly conjoined to the hip since day one.

Jason ‘the Red Hood’ Todd, was the chosen one.

It was speculated at first that it was natural for them to be close to the one person they knew in the manor.

But months later, they still seemed to be Jason’s shadow whenever he was around.

This included patrol, being in the manor, being in his apartment, at the grocery store…

They needed to know.

And it was up to Bruce to ask them thanks to drawing the shortest straw.

His search for the answer was relatively short.

Which being that Buddy plainly stated that they were just close to the white streaked vigilante.

Nothing to do with favoritism or bribery.

They just liked being with him.

This seemed to satisfy the others as they put it to rest.

But the Brick of Reality would soon find its next targets one afternoon in the library.

Bruce and Dick had just walked into the library to collect some extra file covers when they spot Buddy fast asleep on one of the desks. A pile of old books keeping them company and of course Alfred. The older man walks by the two. Alfred: “It seems that Mx. Buddy has been going through the same book catalog young Master Jason did when he first came to the manor.” Dick smiles at his younger sibling snoozing. Dick: “Yeah, they kind of are like a mini Jason.” Reality Brick impact in 3… 2… 1… BAM! Bruce and Dick: “… They are a mini Jason…” Alfred ‘already seen this from day 1’ Pennyworth: “I am happy to see your detective skills are as sharp as ever.”

Dick immediately tells the others about this epiphany while Bruce is still processing this.

Jason doesn’t see the resembles and walks away.

The other haven’t exactly met Jason in his Robin days don’t know what to think.

Instead, they observe from afar.

Low and behold Dick was right.

From mannerisms, sayings, some fighting styles, even how they like their food!

All near carbon copy!

Buddy and Jason don’t see it and just move along.

Buddy has gained the new nickname of “Mini Jaybird”.

Which in all things in consideration it was miles above “Jar Jar”, so they didn’t mind being called that.

Jason didn’t either, in fact it just gave him a reason to call ‘dibs’ on them on any team activity or patrol.

Dick is on patrol with Buddy. Dick: “Bud—Nightjar you need to be more careful with your flips. You’re still healing from the stab wound.” Nightjar just smiles at him. Nightjar: “Not even if I do this!” Nightjar executes one of Dick’s own personal flips with ease. They bounce to their feet and go up to him. Nightjar: “See! I did it! I am unstoppable!” Dick just sees a smaller Jason cheering for his accomplishments. Nightjar: “Yeah! I—” They were interrupted by Dick hugging them tightly. Nightjar: “Nightwing? Dick you okay?” Nightwing: “I’m fine… Just… I’m fine mini jaybird…” Buddy decides not to ask about the tremble and just hugs him back. Later that same night in the Batcave… Bruce is helping Buddy with their dodging. Buddy ducks under one punch. Buddy: “Ha! You’re going to have to hit faster than that B.” Bruce continues on without a word. Buddy laughs as they dodge another hit. Buddy: “Try and catch me you big boob!” Bruce suddenly freezes up. Buddy looks at him worried. Buddy: “Bruce? Hey, I know that the phrase is a bit outdated but if it offends you—” Bruce isn’t listening as he is only seeing a small Jason from Crime Alley. Those were some of the first words he had ever said to him on the night he tried to steal the Batmobile’s tires. Buddy: “—And I’ll make sure to never do that again.” Bruce puts a hand on their shoulder making them stop their little ramble. Bruce: “Don’t you ever loose that spark Buddy. No matter what happens.” Buddy: “… Umm, okay? B are you sure you don’t need some sleep? I just called you a—huh?!” Bruce had brought them into a tight hug. Buddy, while confused, returns the gesture. It wasn’t everyday the Batman was giving out hugs so they were going to cherish any opportunity they got.

[followsfrankiep]

Candied Prayers

Johnny Davis (Bikeriders) x Reader

Summary: Johnny Davis is struggling to make amends with the complications of his marriage. While abiding his wife's wishes, finds himself drawn to you, his kids' Catholic pre school teacher.

Word count: 7.2k (its supposed to be a one shot but yeah, I cant help it)

Trigger Warning: teasing, oral sex, abuse, violence, seduction, cheating.

You remember meeting Johnny for the first time. It was one of those mornings that felt heavy, even as the sun barely broke the horizon. Johnny’s face was a canvas of frustration and fatigue, the signs of a marriage on the brink. Betty was insistent on their kids growing up in a "proper" environment, which meant this Catholic preschool a few miles away. Johnny couldn’t wrap his head around it—why not a closer school? But he went along with it, clinging to any hope of fixing what was broken between them.

Religion wasn’t Johnny's thing. The whole idea of gods and prayers seemed like a façade to him. Yet here he was, at the threshold of the preschool, dreading every second of it. He hated being there, in a place that meant nothing to him, just another compromise in a long list of sacrifices. As he stepped inside, he wondered if any of this would really matter in the end.

You remember that morning vividly. As Johnny stepped through the preschool doors, his presence was impossible to ignore. Tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a dark blue denim jacket over a red shirt, he had this rugged vibe that screamed resilience. His piercing blue eyes took in everything with a mix of curiosity and quiet defiance. Fine lines etched his face, each one telling a story, and his dark hair was neatly combed, adding to his rough-hewn charm.

You stood at the entrance, dressed in modest Catholic clothing—a simple blouse and skirt. Your long, raven-colored hair framed your face, creating a striking contrast to Johnny's imposing figure. As his eyes swept over you, it felt like he was measuring you up, taking in every detail. His presence made you know that he was there. You tried to steady your breathing, reminding yourself of your duty to give him a tour around the school.

Johnny’s gaze lingered at the rosary you were holding for a moment before he broke the silence. “Hey, are you a nun or somethin’?” The bluntness in his voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet of the entrance hall.

You shook your head, trying to keep your composure despite the intimidation you felt. “No, I'm not a nun.”

Johnny's eyes narrowed slightly as he assessed you, his expression almost gruff. “You look too young to be a nun.”

There was a pause, the weight of his words hanging in the air. You just smiled and brushed his comment off. Johnny was there to check out the school, and you were assigned to give him a tour. “I’ve been assigned to give you a tour around the school. Please, follow me.” Your voice wavered slightly, but you forced a polite smile.

As you led Johnny through the halls, the tension between you was palpable. Every step you took, you could feel his eyes boring into you, scrutinizing every detail, and it was clear Johnny didn’t want to be there. He grunted occasionally, his demeanor suggesting he had better places to be. As you showed him around the preschool, you talked about the various classrooms and the activities the kids enjoyed.

Walking through the halls, Johnny couldn’t help but notice the religious symbols and decor. Crucifixes adorned the walls, and there were statues of saints placed at various corners. The classrooms had colorful illustrations of biblical stories, and there was a serene yet disciplined vibe throughout the school.

“This here’s the play area,” you said, pointing to a group of kids building with blocks. “We encourage creativity and teamwork here.”

Johnny barely glanced at the kids, his eyes wandering elsewhere. You noticed Johnny's rugged appearance—faded jeans that fit him well and jacket that had clearly seen better days. Back in his mind, Johnny disapproved of what he saw, thinking it was all hypocritical – a facade that didn’t align with his beliefs.

When you reached the classroom, you continued, “In here, we have our reading corner. It’s designed to foster a love for books and learning.”

You noticed Johnny’s hands were calloused, hinting at a life of hard work and rough play. He grunted, clearly uninterested. “Not bad, I guess.” He thought it was yet another part of the facade.

You then pointed to a small altar at the front of the classroom. “We also have daily prayers with the kids, fostering their spiritual growth.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The idea of imposing faith on young minds seemed almost laughable to him.

As the tour came to an end, you turned to face him, only to be caught off guard. Johnny was already lighting a cigarette, right there inside the school premises. You noticed how his fingers steadied the lighter, a small moment of calm amid his stormy presence. Your initial reaction was to tell him off, but his intimidating aura kept you silent. Nuns passing by glared at you, expecting you to enforce the school's rules.

“Are your kids goin' to be studying here?” you asked, trying to divert the tension.

Johnny exhaled a puff of smoke, his tone nonchalant. “Yeah, whatever.”

You watched him take another drag from his cigarette, feeling the weight of tense silence between you. Despite his tough exterior, something told you there was more to Johnny than met the eye.

-

A few days later, you found yourself standing at the threshold of a decision. Kathy, your old friend, had invited you to join her at a bar. You hesitated, knowing your partner disapproved of you going out with friends and drinking. But there she was, right outside your house, seated at the back of Benny’s motorcycle, with another guy ready to chauffeur you for the night. The roar of the engine and the thrill of the night beckoned you.

You glanced back at your partner, sprawled on the couch, drunk and snoring loudly. The sight of him, lost in his stupor, made your heart ache with a mix of frustration and resignation. The weight of his disapproval hung over you like a dark cloud, but the allure of freedom and the promise of a night out with Kathy was too tempting to resist.

With a sigh, you made your decision. You stepped out of the house, the cool night air hitting your face as you approached Kathy and Benny. The excitement in Kathy’s eyes was infectious, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of adrenaline as you climbed onto the motorcycle. The engine roared to life, and as you sped away into the night, you felt a sense of liberation, a fleeting escape from the confines of your everyday life.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Kathy urged, grinning. “You deserve a night out.”

You smiled half-heartedly, “Alright, alright, I’m comin’. Just this once.”

As the motorcycle sped through the dark streets, a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach. The night was filled with possibilities, both thrilling and dangerous. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this decision might lead to something unexpected, something that could change everything.

The city lights blurred as you sped through the streets, and despite the nagging worry, the thrill of the unknown ahead filled you with a cautious anticipation. Tonight was just beginning, and anything could happen.

Upon arriving at the bar, you were taken aback by the lively atmosphere. The place was packed with Vandals—people drinking, smoking, and playing pool. The heavy bass of rock music thrummed through the air, creating an almost surreal vibe.

Dressed differently that night, you wore a pair of sexy jeans and a red checkered shirt with a few buttons undone at the top and the hem of your shirt tied up, showing off your figure. Black heeled boots completed your look. Kathy teased you about letting loose and not having your rosary around.

“Look at ya, all dressed up,” Kathy chuckled, nudging you playfully. “Who knew you had such a wild side?”

You blushed a bit, retorting, “Don't ya get used to it. I'm still the same person, ya know.”

As you joined the crowd, the energy of the bar enveloped you. Johnny couldn't help but notice you. He was leaning against the bar, a drink in hand, when his eyes caught sight of you. His gaze lingered, a flicker of recognition sparking in his piercing blue eyes. He watched as you held a cue stick, walking around the pool table, preparing for your turn. His eyes followed your every move, a mix of curiosity and something more intense.

The game of pool became heated, and the moment you tied your hair up into a messy bun, it clicked for him—you were his kids' Catholic preschool teacher. He smirked at the realization, the irony not lost on him.

“Always the quiet ones,” he muttered under his breath, amused.

Johnny continued to watch you, his gaze unwavering. You felt the weight of his stare, a mix of curiosity and something more intense. The air seemed to thicken as his eyes followed your every move.

Curious, Johnny turned to Kathy and asked gruffly, “Ya seem to know her well. What's her story?”

Kathy leaned in, her voice hushed but animated. “Sweetest person you'll ever meet. But she’s had it rough. Lost her kid two years back. Had him when she was young, and then her folks disowned her. Now, she’s stuck with that deadbeat partner of hers.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow, “Partner? Why not say husband?”

Kathy scoffed, “That jerk never married her. Normally, she wouldn’t even come out like this. It’s a miracle she joined us tonight.”

Johnny glanced at you, still playing pool, intrigued. “Pretty brave of her, comin' out tonight. She don’t seem like the type.”

Kathy smirked, “You're right. She’s usually more reserved. But everyone’s got their layers, right?” Then she added, eyeing Johnny knowingly, “Ya seem interested, Johnny. Forgettin' about your wife?”

Johnny smirked, dragging another puff from his cigarette. “Don't worry, Kathy. I ain’t askin' for that reason. Just recognized her as my kids' teacher.”

Kathy shook her head and smiled, “Good. Just lookin' out for ya.”

As Kathy continued to talk about you, Johnny listened intently, never taking his eyes off you. He watched as you bent over the pool table, carefully aiming your stick at the cue ball. You seemed focused and in control, a stark contrast to the reserved teacher he knew. When you pocketed a ball, your charming smile and laugh captivated him. There was something magnetic about you tonight, a part he hadn’t seen before.

Meanwhile, your pool game was going well. You moved around the table with ease, making calculated shots and enjoying the friendly competition. Benny was there at the pool table, laughing at your unexpected play. “You’re killin’ it. Who knew you could play pool like a pro?”

You smiled, feeling a sense of liberation. “Guess I’ve got a few surprises up my sleeve."

Johnny couldn't resist asking Kathy more about you. “You said she lost her son... How’d she cope?”

Kathy sighed, her expression somber. “It wasn’t easy. She buried herself in her work at the preschool, and her faith kept her goin’. The woman don't get outta her house without that damn rosary." Kathy chuckled, remembering how you often whisper prayers when you are on the road. "But nights like this, where she can let loose a bit, are rare.” she continued.

He leaned back, his eyes never straying far from you. The more Johnny learned about you, the more complex and fascinating you appeared.

As you took a drag from the cigarette Benny handed you, you felt Johnny's gaze. His thoughts were swirling; he found it hard to reconcile the disciplined, devout teacher with the carefree woman enjoying her night out. What other layers did you have hidden beneath the surface?

The game was almost coming to an end, and you were about to win. You took a swig of your beer bottle, savoring the moment. Suddenly, Johnny appeared in front of you, his presence catching you off guard.

“Moonlightin’, huh?” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

You almost spit your drink but managed to swallow it just in time. Wiping the excess beer from your lips, you looked up at him, surprised. Johnny found the gesture unexpectedly sexy.

“Mr. Davis,” you said, trying to regain your composure. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He chuckled, taking a step closer. “Call me Johnny. I’m the president of this club.” He leaned against the pool table, his eyes never leaving yours. “And yeah, didn’t expect to see ya here either.” He tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t ya?”

You smiled, feeling a mix of embarrassment and intrigue. “Guess so.”

It was your turn to hit the cue, but Johnny’s sudden appearance threw you off your game. You took a long drag from your cigarette, trying to steady your nerves. Johnny noticed your sudden nervousness and offered to help.

“Need a hand?” he asked, stepping closer.

You nodded, feeling a bit flustered. Johnny moved behind you, his presence warm and steady. He placed his hands over yours, guiding you in aiming the cue stick. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered, “Threw ya off your game, huh?"

With Johnny’s assistance, you aimed and hit the cue ball, successfully pocketing your last ball. The people cheered at your victory, while some others lost their bet, some others won. Still in the same position, you turned your head slightly and found yourself inches away from Johnny’s face. Your eyes locked, and you could feel each other’s warm breath.

“Thanks,” you whispered, not moving an inch.

Johnny’s other hand found its way to your waist. “No problem,” he said casually, his gaze lingering on your naturally red lips, glistening under the dim lights in this pool table. His thoughts were fighting with his mind about wanting to have a taste of that.

“Spend most of my time here. People might seem rough, but they’re good guys. We look out for each other.” Johnny said, his voice carrying a mix of pride and gruffness.

“Oh, I see,” you said, a teasing tone in your voice. You caught him staring and instinctively bit your lower lip. “Having the president of the Vandals at our school is quite an honor.”

Johnny chuckled, riding the joke. “Yeah, I’m sure they’d be thrilled to know.”

The both of you shared a laugh, the tension easing slightly as you stared into each other’s eyes. Moving away awkwardly, you took another drag from your cigarette.

“Please don’t tell this to the school’s headmaster. I will get fired. They are very strict about this.”

Johnny shrugged, “I don’t care about any of that. Your secret’s safe with me.”

You gave him a grateful smile, a blend of relief and excitement. Without realizing it, the two of you struck a conversation over cigarettes and beer, moving to his table. Johnny’s rough exterior started to soften as the night went on, and the tension between you grew thicker with each passing moment.

"So, what’s my kids teacher doing at a bar like this?” Johnny asked, his tone playful, as he leaned casually against the table.

You took a sip of your beer, smiling. “Kathy dragged me here. Besides, it’s nice to see a different side of life.”

Johnny chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. “Guessing this ain’t your natural habitat, huh?”

“No, not exactly,” you admitted, biting your lip again. Johnny’s gaze lingered on your lips, and you could feel the intensity of his stare.

You began to take a liking to Johnny. After a few bottles, the modest Catholic preschool teacher shed her reserved demeanor, becoming more playful and bold. You leaned in closer, lowering your voice. “So, where’s your wife tonight?”

Johnny seemed to become tense at the topic, looking away momentarily. He shifted his weight, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the table. “She’s around… we’re hittin’ a rough patch, y'know?” he said, feeling a twinge of unease. He wasn’t sure why he was explaining to you, but he wanted to be honest.

You sensed that he was uncomfortable discussing it, but a mischievous glint sparked in your eyes. You took it as an opportunity to pull out a lollipop from your back pocket, slowly ripping off its plastic covering. Johnny’s gaze followed your movements, his eyes widening slightly as you placed the lollipop in your mouth, sucking it while staring at him. The round shape formed in your cheeks, and you could see the old man taking a deep breath when you did. You continued licking the tip of your lollipop slowly, still not breaking your eye contact, and smirking at him after. He couldn’t help but notice how this playful side of you made him feel something he hadn’t felt for a long time.

Johnny shook his head disapprovingly, though you noticed his left hand forming a fist and biting it, as if fighting his urges. You batted your eyes playfully and asked, “Ya want a pop?” while licking your lollipop. He admired how you had taken down your reserved demeanor, revealing a lively and confident woman. It was hard for him to reconcile you with the teacher persona you upheld at the preschool.

The old man took a deep sigh and smirked, dragging another puff of his cigarette. “Not tonight,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly. Internally, he questioned his own control and why he was holding back when every fiber in his being wanted to give in.

You both continued to talk, finding comfort in each other’s company, as the night drew out with a mix of excitement, laughter, and unspoken desires. Johnny felt a strange pull towards you, sensing there was much more to uncover beneath the surface. He realized he enjoyed your company. Much more than he expected.

As the night wore on, the bar began to empty out. Benny called Johnny out for a ride. It was already midnight, and you were supposed to head home. You were walking towards the exit alongside Kathy when Benny asked if you wanted to experience a ride on his bike. Kathy was already seated at the back of Benny’s motorcycle.

“Come on, give it a try,” Benny urged, a mischievous grin on his face.

You respectfully declined, smiling. “I’ll pass tonight. I’m just gonna walk home.” With that, you began to make your way out of the bar.

The Vandals left for their midnight ride, or so you thought, when you suddenly noticed Johnny riding his bike slowly beside you.

“Not joinin’ ‘em?” you asked, surprised.

He shrugged, a casual smile on his face. “Didn’t want my kids’ teacher goin' missin’ tomorrow.” He handed you a helmet. “Hop on, I’ll give ya a ride home.”

You paused, taking a moment to admire Johnny’s appearance. He looked rugged and effortlessly cool, the street light glinting off his leather jacket. There was a certain intensity in his eyes, softened only by the faint smile on his lips.

After a moment of hesitation, you agreed and hitched onto his bike. “Hold on tight,” Johnny said over his shoulder as he revved the engine. The bike roared to life, and soon you were speeding through the empty streets. The wind whipped around you, making you instinctively embrace Johnny’s waist.

At first, you were scared, your heart pounding in your chest. But as the ride continued, the fear morphed into exhilaration. You inhaled his scent, a mix of leather and cologne, which stirred unexpected feelings within you.

Johnny glanced at you in his side mirror, a smirk playing on his lips. “Wanna take a detour?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the wind.

You nodded, excitement bubbling up inside you. He took you to a quiet lakeside bench, the night air cool and crisp. The gentle ripples of the lake mirrored the stars above, creating a serene yet eerie scene. You shivered, the cold seeping into your bones. Both of you dismounted and walked closer to the lakeside, the sound of water lapping gently against the shore. Johnny lit a cigarette, offering you one, which you accepted. As you both smoked in comfortable silence, a sense of tranquility settled in.

Noticing your discomfort, Johnny took off his Vandals jacket and draped it over your shoulders. “Here, this’ll keep ya warm.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, pulling the jacket closer around you. The two of you sat in silence, staring at the dark lake and smoking.

“So, what do ya think of this place?” Johnny asked, breaking the silence. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, but you could sense the curiosity behind his words.

“It’s beautiful,” you replied, your voice soft. “Nice to have a spot like this to escape to.”

Johnny nodded, a half-smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, come here to clear my head sometimes.”

Johnny couldn’t shake the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. Sitting here with you, a stranger in many ways, felt oddly intimate and comforting. He was used to the chaos and noise of his everyday life, but in this quiet moment, you brought a sense of tranquility he hadn’t felt in a long time. The fact that someone he barely knew could stir such deep feelings—comfort, curiosity, excitement—was both bewildering and exhilarating.

“So,” you began, your voice playful yet curious. “What does the president of the Vandals do at a lakeside spot like this?”

Johnny chuckled, taking a drag from his cigarette and exhaling slowly. “Besides escaping the chaos? Sometimes I just sit and think. Helps me keep perspective, ya know?” He flicked the ash off his cigarette, his eyes shifting to the water as he spoke.

You nodded, understanding. “Glad to know even the president needs a break sometimes.” You pulled Johnny’s jacket tighter around you, feeling its warmth.

Johnny grinned, enjoying the banter. “Yeah, even presidents need a breather.” He took another drag from his cigarette and then turned to face you, his expression softening. He hesitated, then added, “I don’t usually share this spot with anyone.”

You felt a flutter of warmth at his words. With a playful glint in your eyes, you teased, “Feeling special already.”

Johnny smiled, a genuine, boyish smile that reached his eyes. He took a step closer, his hand brushing against yours. The contact was brief, but it sent a spark of electricity through you.

As the tension built, Johnny couldn't help but lean in closer. You both sat down on a nearby bench, the moonlight casting a soft glow on the water. Your legs brushed against his, and you felt a spark of electricity. You playfully nudged him with your knee, and he responded by placing his hand on your inner thigh, caressing it gently. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his touch ignited a spark in you. He knew what he was doing as well, each stroke comes up higher and higher.

Feeling bolder, you swung your legs over his thighs, positioning yourself closer to him, opening your legs just a little. Johnny's hands continued to caress your thighs, his touch sending waves of warmth through you. You caught him off guard then your fingers started fiddling with the buttons of his shirt.

As you talked, your fingers instinctively reached for the buttons of his shirt, toying with them absentmindedly. Johnny's eyes widened in surprise, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watched you. He was intrigued by the way your fingers moved, gently tracing the fabric and occasionally undoing and redoing the buttons. It was a small, seemingly insignificant gesture, but it held a different meaning for both of you.

As your fingers continued to toy with the buttons, Johnny felt a sense of comfort and affection wash over him. He found himself captivated by the simple act, the way your touch show how much you are contemplating whether to act upon what you have been feeling right now, or not.

Your other hand slid to the back of his head, your fingers lightly grazing his hair and scalp. Your nails gently teased the back of his head, sending a ripple of electricity through him. He closed his eyes for a little bit when you started tracing small circles with your nails. His hands reached the top of your inner thigh, and his eyes opened when his finger grazed your warm and wet cunt. You two wanted something more, but neither of you made a move to act on it.

Johnny looked at you, his voice low and rough, “There’s a certain irony to this, ya know? Seeing ya all holier than thou during the day, and now you’re here, teasing the hell outta me.” He couldn't help but marvel at the contrast between the two sides of you.

You smirked, leaning in closer. “You don’t like this version?” you asked playfully, your lips just inches from his. Your heart raced as you watched his reaction, feeling a thrill at the power you held in this moment.

Johnny's gaze was intense as he replied, “Oh, I like it. But you’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.” His finger was still grazing your damp jeans, sending shivers up your spine. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, drawing you in. His eyes darkened with desire, and you could see the internal struggle as he fought to maintain control. Your touch was electric, and he couldn't help but be captivated by your playful and bold demeanor.

You simply hummed, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you brushed his lips with yours ever so gently back and forth before pulling away. Johnny’s breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly, but he managed to maintain his composure. You could see the conflict in his eyes, a mix of desire and restraint. Your heart raced, and you felt a rush of excitement at the intensity of the moment. Johnny's hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

As he pulled you closer, Johnny's head moved slowly to your neck. He inhaled your scent deeply, his breath warm against your skin.

“Guess we should probably get ya home,” His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, his voice low and rough, carrying a hint of reluctant acceptance. It was the sensible thing to do, even if every fiber of his being wanted to stay.

You nodded, feeling the same pull but respecting the boundaries. “Yeah, probably.”

Johnny helped you back onto the bike, the closeness rekindling the same energy between you. The ride continued in comfortable silence, both lost in thoughts and emotions. It was hard. The amount of self control you two had not to mount each other right then and there at the lakeside. You thought to yourself, this man's married and you're his kids' teacher. Aside from that, there's also a person waiting for you at home.

When Johnny finally pulled up to your place, you unwrapped your arms from around him, but lingered a little longer. “Thanks for the ride, Johnny,” you said, a hint of warmth and playfulness in your voice.

Johnny smiled, his eyes lingering on you. “Anytime.”

As you took a step towards your door, Johnny’s voice stopped you. “Hey, try offering me a pop again, and I might take you up on that offer someday,” he said, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You smirked, a playful glint in your eyes. “We’ll see about that,” you teased before slowly turning and stepping inside your home, the night’s events playing on repeat in your mind.

-

Thinking about last night’s unexpected encounter, Johnny felt a spark that had long been absent from his life. The playful teasing and electric connection made him look forward to the next day in a way he hadn't in years. He decided to swing by the preschool to pick up his kids, a task he once dreaded but now found himself eagerly anticipating.

Arriving at the preschool, Johnny could already tell that something was different. One of the substitute teachers greeted him at the entrance. “Hey there,” Johnny said, a hint of anticipation in his voice. “Is she around today?”

The substitute teacher shook her head, a hint of concern in her voice. “She called in sick today. Is there something I can help you with?”

Johnny's heart sank a little. He had hoped to see her, to maybe catch a glimpse of the woman he shared that surprising night with. Despite staying perfectly composed, he couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. “Nah, it’s nothing urgent,” he replied, trying to mask his unease. “Thanks, anyway.”

As he turned to leave, skepticism gnawed at Johnny. She was more than fine when he left last night. His thoughts drifted back to Kathy's words about her household situation. He couldn’t help but wonder if something was going on, but he decided not to act on it. It wasn’t his place to intervene.

Two days later, Johnny tried his luck again. The memory of the electric encounter with you was fresh in his mind. He wanted to see you, hell, he was craving to have you by himself again.

It was a hot day, and he could feel sweat trickling down his back. As he arrived at the preschool in his truck, he noticed you wearing long sleeves despite the heat. He couldn't understand why Catholics had to wear such clothing in this weather.

He was there to pick up his kids and felt a mix of anticipation and apprehension. When you saw him, the memory of that night came flooding back. Unable to express what you felt, you forced a smile and greeted him timidly. “Hey there,” you said, trying to keep your tone even.

Johnny sensed your hesitation immediately. “Hey, ya weren't here yesterday. Everythin' alright?”

You tried to keep your answers short and vague. “Yeah.”

Johnny noticed your unease and stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in concern. “Ya sure? You seem... different today,” he said, his voice filled with concern.

You smiled weakly, trying to come up with an excuse. “Oh, it's nothing. Just a bit tired. I should probably get back to my classroom.”

As you turned to leave, Johnny reached out and gently held your hand to stop you. The pressure wasn’t hard, but you winced in pain. Johnny's eyes widened with worry. "What’s goin’ on?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You forced another smile, trying to mask the pain. “Yeah, just a bit sore. I’ll be fine.”

Johnny couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He gently pulled back your sleeve, revealing bruises and scratches on your arms. His heart sank, and his blood boiled with anger and worry. “What the hell happened?” he asked, his voice trembling with concern.

You didn't answer, just looked away, avoiding his gaze. Johnny realized that your partner probably did this to you. “Did he do this to ya?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of anger and worry.

You immediately came to your partner's defense, unreasonably justifying his actions. “It’s not what you think. He didn’t mean to... it’s just... things got out of ha-”

Johnny's disapproval was evident. “This ain’t right,” he said, his voice firm. “Ya don’t deserve this.”

As he spoke, Johnny instinctively reached out to tuck a strand of your black hair behind your ear. But you instinctively moved away, a haunted look in your eyes. Johnny's heart ached even more seeing your reaction. He understood that your fear ran deep.

“Listen,” Johnny said softly, his voice gentle but resolute. “I get it, it’s complicated. Imma take care of this, alright?”

You looked away, unable to respond. As you walked back to your classroom, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Johnny watched you go, feeling a mix of concern and determination to find out what was really going on.

Johnny hated abusers, despising the idea of any man laying hands on a woman. While driving home, he couldn’t shake off the image of your bruises. He knew he had to do something, but for now, he focused on his kids, he had to get them home.

You never meant for him to see those marks, and now you weren’t sure what would happen next. While sitting down on your classroom's desk, you gently massages your temples, Johnny’s reaction and the anger you saw in his eyes frustrated you.

-

When you got home, you found your partner with a black eye and a beaten-up face, limping while loading all his things into his car. Your heart raced, and confusion and concern washed over you. "What happened?" you asked, your voice trembling.

He turned to face you, his eyes filled with anger. "What do you think happened?" he snapped. "You think you can just live a double life and get away with it?"

Fear crept up your spine. "I-I don't understand," you stammered.

He stepped towards you, hand raised, ready to strike, but something held him back—a flicker of hesitation. Instead, he grabbed your face forcefully. "You pretentious whore." he spat, his voice filled with venom. "Carrying a rosary during the day and a biker’s whore at night." he spat.

You were horrified, unable to comprehend the sudden outburst. Tears welled up in your eyes. "Please, just let me explain—" you began, but he cut you off.

"No," he said sharply, releasing you. "I don't want to hear it."

He turned away and got himself into the car, his movements filled with rage. You stood there, frozen, a whirlwind of emotions in your mind—pain, fear, hurt, isolation.

Watching him drove away, the initial shock and pain began to subside, replaced by a strange, almost manic laughter. The absurdity of the situation, the irony of your newfound freedom, hit you all at once. You laughed through your tears, a mix of relief and disbelief. You had been held hostage by your abusive relationship for so long that the idea of being alone, of being free, felt surreal.

---

After your partner left, you didn't go to work for a few days. Johnny, worried after not seeing you at the preschool, decided to check on you. When he arrived outside your house, he found it eerily quiet, almost empty. There was no sign of you around. He knocked on the door, calling out your name, but no one answered. He circled around, looking for any indications of where you might have gone. Concern gnawed at him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Johnny decided to head back to the club, hoping someone there might have heard from you. As he entered, the familiar faces of Brucie, Cal, Cockroach, and Wahoo greeted him. "Hey Johnny, you lookin' for someone?" Brucie asked, noticing the concern etched on Johnny's face.

"Yeah," Johnny replied, his voice filled with worry. "She hasn't been at work, and her house is empty. Any of ya guys hear from her?"

The group exchanged glances, shaking their heads. "Nah, man," Cal said, "we haven't heard a thing. You expecting trouble?"

"I dunno," Johnny admitted, lighting a cigarette. "But somethin' doesn't feel right."

As Johnny paced, trying to figure out his next move, Kathy approached him, already knowing why he was concerned. "Johnny, you don't need to go huntin' for her. She's dealin' with it on her own. She didn’t follow that bastard."

Johnny turned to her, his jaw set and his eyes steely. "Ya sure about that, Kathy?" he demanded.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Kathy replied firmly. "She'll reach out when she's ready. Right now, she needs time."

Kathy then looked Johnny straight in the eyes. "And Johnny, don't forget about Betty. Your wife. Ya married, remember? It's time to let the girl handle her own life."

Johnny's expression hardened, but the worry in his eyes was undeniable. He took a deep drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly. "I ain't forgettin' about Betty," he said, his voice low and steady.

Kathy sighed, knowing Johnny's stubbornness all too well. "Just don't do anything you'll regret," she warned, her voice softening slightly. The older guy gave a curt nod.

Johnny was back at his old routine again. He had heard at the preschool that you had handed in your resignation letter. Without you there, it felt like he was on autopilot, like going through the motions without purpose.

The club was packed, and Johnny was quietly observing the crowd, dragging on a smoke. He let his men have their fun, his mind elsewhere. As you walked behind him, he didn’t notice until you slipped into the seat beside him. Johnny looked up, taken aback by your new look. You had cut your black hair into a long bob and wore a plain fitted white tank top with low-waisted black jeans and high-heeled boots.

Johnny's eyes followed every movement, still grasping your presence. "Ya missin' for days," Johnny remarked, still awed. "Where'd ya disappear to?"

You took the lit cigarette from his fingers, running it across your lips before taking a puff. "Needed some time to figure things out," you replied, exhaling smoke. "Thought a change might help."

Johnny nodded, observing you closely. "Looks like it did. Ya look different."

You smiled, your eyes meeting his as you reached out and began fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. "I've been thinkin' about you while I was away," you admitted, your voice soft yet playful. "Couldn't get you outta my mind."

Johnny's eyes flickered with amusement and curiosity, feeling a warmth spread through him. He loved the way you played with his buttons, a gesture that always made him feel like there was a special connection between you two. "Oh yeah? What about me had ya thinkin' so much?"

You shrugged casually, still toying with his buttons. "I don't know.. you're different when I had you alone." you teased, the hidden meaning clear between you two.

Johnny chuckled, leaning in slightly. The way your fingers danced on his buttons was driving him wild. "Well, sounds like I left quite an impression."

You smirked, stretching your body and arms before heading towards the pool table. "Wanna play a game? I could use some practice," you said, the challenge evident in your tone.

Johnny followed, intrigued by your new demeanor. As you lined up your shot, he leaned against the table, his eyes never leaving you. "Ya any good?" he asked, playful challenge in his tone.

"I'm decent," you replied with a smirk. "Wanna make a bet?"

Johnny chuckled, matching your playfulness. He couldn't help but admire your confidence. "Alright, what's the wager?"

You leaned in, your voice low and teasing. The anticipation was electric. "If I win, you tell me what you're really thinkin'. If you win, I'll owe ya one."

Johnny raised an eyebrow, accepting the challenge. The thought of winning this bet excited him. "Deal."

You bent over the table, aiming your cue stick on the ball. Johnny's eyes roamed over your figure, appreciating the view. Noticing his gaze, you gave him a playful wink before striking the ball. Johnny couldn't help but chuckle, enjoying the playful interaction.

The game progressed with playful innuendos and teasing banter, the tension between you and Johnny growing with each shot. Johnny occasionally slipped his hand on your waist, feeling the warmth of your skin through your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He placed soft kisses on your hair, the scent of your shampoo filling his senses.

At one point, you leaned in to whisper something into his ear because the noise from the club was too much. "You drive me crazy," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. As you did, you couldn't resist nibbling his earlobe a little, earning a low growl from him. "You're playin' with fire here," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. The feel of your lips on his ear sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he found himself wanting more.

When it was Johnny's turn to hit the cue ball, he turned to you with a playful grin. "Gimme a kiss for good luck," he said, tapping his cheek. He could feel the anticipation building inside him.

You obliged, placing a soft kiss on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin, chuckling at his playfulness. It seemed like you were a couple for a long time now, the chemistry between you undeniable. The Vandals' men noticed your interactions with their boss, but they kept their opinions to themselves. It was the first time in so many years they'd seen Johnny this happy.

Despite your best efforts, Johnny's skill and experience shone through, and he emerged victorious. He leaned back against the table with a triumphant smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction. "Looks like ya owe me one," he said, satisfaction in his tone.

You laughed softly, trying to hide your disappointment. "Alright, Johnny, what do ya want?"

Johnny's eyes lit up with a mischievous spark. He loved the playful dynamic you two shared. "How 'bout ya offer me a pop?" he suggested, referring to the lollipop you had given him before.

You sighed playfully, a hint of disappointment in your voice. "Too bad I didn't think about bringin' any," you replied, enjoying the banter.

Johnny took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling smoke slowly. "Maybe there's some in the supplies closet," he said casually yet playfully.

You knew what he meant, and a smirk formed on your lips. "Maybe," you replied, anticipation in your voice.

With a shared look, you lead him the way and you both headed towards the supplies closet.

Kathy, who was sitting at the bar, noticed the two of you and paused, her eyes narrowing in disapproval. Her silent judgment was unmistakable, and it made Johnny's resolve falter for a moment.

As you reached the door, Johnny opened it and gestured for you to go inside first. You stepped into the small, dimly lit room and Johnny followed closely behind, quietly closing the door behind him. He locked it with a soft click, ensuring your privacy. You have been holding back for quite a while now, it's about time you have him alone again.

Wasting no time, you pushed Johnny against the door, his eyes locking onto yours. You got down on your knees and swiftly removed his belt and unzipped his pants, revealing his fully erected cock in front of you. You began with long, slow licks from top to bottom, then teased slightly with your tongue on the head. When you finally took him all in, you just kept going slowly and moaned lightly with every stroke.

"Fuck." Johnny muttered under his breath, gently holding your head moving up and down beneath him.

As he stood there, with his eyes closed, feeling the waves of pleasure mixed with guilt and desire to have you more. The weight of his actions weighed heavily on his conscience, but the pull towards you was too strong to resist. When he first saw you, you were holding on to your dear rosary. You used to kneel in prayer; now, you're kneeling in front of him

He silently prayed to Jesus, if he does exist, to forgave you both as you have sinned.

[thegeeksideofsr]

Positive

Summary: Eliot finds a positive pregnancy test in the bathroom after getting home late from a job.

A/n: I know this gif is from season one and he's holding a thumb drive, but it fits the story kinda. El may be a little out of character, but I tried. Enjoy!

***********************************************

It's been two weeks since I took the test. The positive symbol staring back at me.

It's in a drawer of the bathroom now. Buried under hair brushes, hair products, and a box of unopened condoms.

The days seem to go by in a blur. Going through the motions of survival while trying to come to terms with the fact that I'm pregnant.

Man, that's weird. My dad might have a heart attack. He nearly had one when he found out about Eliot and I. He was so angry at first, but he's been getting better about it.

I called Alice once the timer went off. She came over and held me while I cried.

She, Kate, and Deklan have practically put me on maternity leave six months early. They all are so supportive and wonderful, but the ones I want to be here and supporting me aren't.

I've had time to come to terms with it. It's still strange to know I'm carrying a baby, but I want them, even if I'm not completely ready. They are going to be amazing.

This morning I looked up some midwives in the area, found one, and gave them a call for an appointment.

I know the general time it happened, but I still want to be sure.

Once the appointment was made, I tucked into the couch to watch a movie. Under the warm blanket, and with the emotions from the last three days taking over, I drift of to the white noise of the movie.

A hand caressing my face, and a kiss to my forehead wakes me up.

Moving slightly, and opening my eyes a little, a form next to the couch comes into blurry view.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Eliot whispers.

"Please tell me you're really here, and I'm not dreaming again."

"I'm here. And I ain't planning to go anywhere any time soon."

I pull myself up, and finally look at him clearly.

He looks tired, and his hair is a little shorter, but he's still my Eliot.

I untangle my self from my blanket and launch into his arms, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist, my face pressed to his shoulder.

He catches me with ease. He tucks his face into my neck, his own arms wrap around my ribs and waist as we hold onto each other.

"I love you," he whispers, his scruff harsh against my skin.

"I love you, too."

With those few words the dam breaks.

I begin to sob, uncontrollably as he holds me.

"I missed you so much, darlin'. I got you."

I cry harder at his words, hoping that he won't change his mind when he finds out about the baby.

A deep breath to calm down, triggers a reaction I wasn't expecting.

I pull away from him, bringing a hand to cover my mouth and nose.

"What?"He asks, concern written across his face. "What is it?"

"You smell," I sob out.

He chuckles as my comment as he wipes tears from my cheek.

"I know. I need a shower, and some sleep."

I nob and take a few more deep breaths to calm down.

He leans back to his feet, and stand up. He holds a hand out to me, I take it, and he gently pulls me to my feet, then leads me to the bedroom.

I sit on the bed, legs tucked up under me, watching him as he strips, tossing his clothes in the hamper.

Nothing seems different. No new injuries or scars. Just a huge bruise, going from his shoulder, down his back to his ribs.

"What happened?" I ask. "To cause the bruises. Those aren't from a fight."

"Parker and I went up to the summit of this mountain, looking for a guy who got lost up there. We ended up falling into the same hole he did. We got lucky though."

"He didn't make it, did he?"

"No. It was deliberate. We got the guy that did it, though."

"That's good."

Clad in just his underwear he walks to bathroom, leaving me on the bed. The water comes on a moment later.

He comes back to the door way, eyebrow quirked and smirk.

"Wanna join me?" He ask.

"Absolutely."

I jump up and strip as I head to the bathroom, leaving a trail behind, gaining a wicked chuckle from Eliot.

We climb in the shower, the hot water soothing. We both wash up, washing the others hair, and each other, before rinsing off, and enjoying being together again.

I watch as he stands under the stream, washing the stress away, wondering how I'm going to tell him about the baby. Then his gaze turns to me.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks, moving a strand of wet hair from my face.

"Huh?"

"You have that look on your face. Like there's somthin' botherin' you."

"I'm fine, El. It can wait."

"So there is somethin' on your mind."

"Yes. But it can wait until you are rested and settled back in."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

He doesn't look convinced. I try changing the subject by kissing him, which works wonders. Kisses always distracts him.

He leans into the kiss, arms wrapping around me and pulling my body flush with his.

We both get lost in each other. Hands travel as we reacquaint ourselves with each other, slowly building up to a long awaited reunion.

It's bliss. Until, his hand came to my breasts and squeezed slightly. No more then he had ever done before, but this time it hurt so much that it pulls a gasp and whimper from me.

I pull away from him completely, stepping back and wrapping my arms around my chest.

I close my eyes, not wanting to look at him.

"Baby. What was that? Did I hurt you?"

His voice is so soft, barely audible over the water.

"No. Just surprised me."

"That was more then surprise. I know how you sound surprised when I touch you, and when your hurt, and that sounded like hurt."

He closes the gap between us, his hands coming up to hold my head. He gently turns my head to look at him.

His brows are knit together, and eye round with worry.

"What happened?" He asks again.

"Nothing."

I pull my head from his hands, and leave the shower, grabbing my towel from the rack, wrapping it around me, and leaving the bathroom, latching the door behind me.

Pov Switch

Eliot sighs as the door clicks closed.

He turns and shuts the water off, then climbs out of the shower, and grabs a towel from the closet. He dries off, then wraps the towel around his waist, then rings his hair out over the tub, then starts brushing his hair out.

He racks his brain for any reason that she might be acting this way.

She was fine when they left for San Lorenzo, and the quick visit when they got state side. She knew that if something happened she could call, but she didn't.

And she never minded when he touched her, normaly she encouraged it. But this time, she flinched like it hurt. Yes her breasts get tender during PMS, but not this bad.

Nothing was wrong. Nothing he knows about.

He lets out a low growl, as he slams his brush down on the counter.

He has to take care of his hair, or it with become a fluffy rats nest.

He digs through the drawers, searching for his things, finding them after taking half of the drawers contents out. He sets what he needs on the counter, then starts replacing what he took out.

As he shoves them back in, he uncovers a piece of plastic, caught up with hair ties and combs. He picks it up to inspect it. White, with a pink cap, and on one side, a small screen with the word positive on the display.

The world stops, and his heart drops.

That would explain it. The tenderness, the odd smell sensitivity, and the question dodging.

She's pregnant. With his baby.

He stands on shaky legs, his hand shakes as well. His gaze holding fast to the test in his hand.

A baby. She is pregnant with his baby. And he is torn.

She would be a good mother, calm and sweet, but stern and fierce when needed.

But him? He was damaged and dangerous. His job was to hit people and lie. But at least Moroe was gone. One shadow of his past gone.

He sets the test of the counter to wash his hands from the trash, then grabs it again and opens the door.

He finds the woman who holds his heart, and now mother of his child, sitting on the bed, clad in one of his shirts as the brushes her own hair out.

"When did you find out?" He asks.

"What?" She looks up at him, looking like a dear caught in headlights.

He holds the test up to show her. Her eye move from his face to his hand, blood draining from he face.

"How did you find that?"

"Was lookin' for my hair stuff, found this while puttin' stuff back. Baby, when did you find out?"

Her eyes well up and flutter, her chin quivers.

Eliot crosses the room to sit next to her on the bed.

"Talk to me, please," he begs.

"Two weeks ago," she says, and the dam breaks.

His heart drops. Two weeks, and she didn't call.

"Why didn't you call me? You should have called me."

"You were on a job. I didn't want to distract or stress you out even more."

He sighs and pulls her into his chest, holding her head as she sobs.

"It's okay," he whispers. " It's gonna be okay. I promise. Just breathe."

"I'm sorry, Eliot," she sobs out. "I was gonna tell you, but I wanted to wait for the right moment."

"It's okay," he whispers. "Come on."

He gently pulls her with him to lay down on the bed, her head resting over his heart, their arms wrap around each other, her breathing slowly calms.

"Do you even want kids, Eliot?" She murmurs.

He squeezes her, the rolls her onto her side or lean over her, hand caressing her face.

" I never thought about it. Not before you." He starts. "I have never had the kind of life that would allow kids. I've done things that I'm not proud of, and-" he hesitates.

"What?"

"Our last job, the one that took us out of the country."

She nods.

"You got so distant. I thought you were going to end things between us. You all kept me in the dark."

"I'm sorry, darlin'. We just wanted to keep you safe. I think that is the only thing about you that your dad and I can agree on."

She huffs a laugh.

"After we broke Nate out of prison," he starts. "A woman came, and she black mailed us to take down a crime lord. Said we had to or she would kill us, and you. I had to protect you from her, and him."

"Him?"

He breaks eye contact.

"I used to work for him. I did terrible things for him. I got out eventually, was lost for while. Then got hired for a job, and met Nate," he looks back to her. " And you."

She smiles.

"I don't deserve to be a father," he starts. "To have anything so pure and innocent. But I'm selfish. I do want them. Do you?"

Her body relaxes as she nods, a new wave of tears begin to fall from her eyes.

"You really want this?" She asks.

"Yes."

POV Switch

Relieve floods me.

He want the baby. He's not leaving

He looks happy, a smile making his eye crinkle, and dimples appear, tears slide down his cheeks.

I bring my hand to his face, taking my turn to wipe the tears away.

"We're having a baby," he whispers.

"We're having a baby."

***********************************************

[diyasgarden]

if you're an american who lives in a place where your reproductive rights may be on the line and use a period tracker, please delete it. i'm not the first person to say it, nor will i be the last, but i will repeat it for hours if needed. this is the time to delete it.

with the results of this election (specifically in congress) many have already acknowledged the effect it will have on access to abortion in this country. rightly so, but it is important to remember that this isn't a solitary issue. at the core of the abortion debate, is an inherent discussion on the self-autonomy of women's bodies. the republican's party disguises it's qualms with this autonomy as qualms on abortion, a procedure which they know draws up strong sentiments across political, socioeconomic, and racial lines. by creating legislature that bans abortion, these states are crafting a legal basis to go after any procedure regarding women's health. you may think this is point of view is extreme, but it's a process we've already seen unfold when alabama threatened the right to ivf earlier this year. banning abortion has never been the end goal, but simply a starting point.

do what you can to take care of your health. and if that means deleting anything that could comprise you, please do it. many of these apps have been instructed to share their data with the state and some already have. it is simply not worth the risk.

and please know that regardless how it may feel right now, there are doctors who stand with you. doctors who will work for you. if you are blessed with the ability to pick your healthcare provider, be intentional with it. find these doctors because they are the ones who will have your back more than any politicians ever will.

[thelivingsin]

it's normal to be disappointed when you learn that your dreams are already dead. but just like a phoenix, our death will lead us to our own rebirth; and like a supernova, some deaths are beautiful.

[faaun]

ok let's catch up quickly

[127-spring]

okay, now that i've actually caught up on the lastart episode that's given us our nct tokyo line-up...

i'm so happy jungmin made it. i knew he would, even before getting spoiled for it yesterday, and i just know his vocals are going to draw lots of very well-deserved attention!!

but... i was not expecting to see him cry... twice... and the fact that the second time was because haechan said he could become an unmatched vocalist?? tbh that just made me desperate for the eventual haechan/jungmin harmonies on a future nct u song!

as expected, riku's debuting. i said in the tags of a post yesterday that i can already imagine him on an nct u track, am i the only one needing to hear him with yangyang and mark?? sm, make it happen.

you know... that would actually be great... like 'from home' with the mix of languages, but from the rap line...

i also very much expected daeyoung to debut, i think he's a very solid vocalist and i do think he'll grow on me more with time.

(i do think minjae was robbed though. dying on that particular hill.)

look... i am not opposed to sakuya becoming an idol... i just don't like that he's becoming an idol right now. if it were up to me, i'd be encouraging him (and ryo) to be nurturing their obvious talents in after-school clubs and at home. unfortunately it's not up to me.

and admittedly. i don't like some of the historical revisionism i'm seeing from certain corners of the fanbase. i saw someone yesterday expressing outrage that minors would be debuting in "nct of all places" and it's like. bestie. have you heard of nct dream.

to be clear that does not make it okay. but i just find it weird that some people are acting like this is an entirely new phenomenon for nct. if anything, i'm relieved sakuya & ryo are at least closer to mark's debut age than jisung's!!

it's hardly an ideal situation. but it is what it is. it's sm, making decisions based on future profit instead of their artists' wellbeing, and i don't think they're about to quit their long and tired pattern of debuting minors any time soon.

at the very least, i hope sakuya & ryo get plenty of support from their older members, and opportunities to socialise beyond the idol world. as i've said before they are both very talented, and they're clearly enthusiastic about this. i just hope they don't suffer too much from debuting so young.

sad to see ryu not make it. given his strengths already, i am optimistic that he'll debut eventually, but it would have been good to see him on this line-up.

and i know i said how anderson didn't strike me as ready for debut, but it did hurt my heart to see him upset about not getting in. i am holding out some hope for his future debut, too.

this post is getting so long but i just have one more thing to say, one question i have been holding in my heart for nearly five entire years...

does this mean we're finally getting a japanese version of regular??

[lamah0urani]

Our dreams have been destroyed, and we have nothing left...😞

🫂You're our last hope in this life🫂

I'm Lama from Gaza, I'm 24 years old, and my husband is Mohammad... We got married in 2022 in a house full of love and happiness. Our house was beautiful, we chose everything in it carefully... We were waiting for the end of the day to go there after a tiring day of work, but the occupation did not leave us. 😔😭💔

This house was bombed with all hatred. Here we are after the genocide. We have nothing... We lost our house, our work, and our car.😭😞

We were displaced to Rafah in a tent that could not accommodate 5 people, and after the displacement from Rafah, we were displaced to Mawasi Khan Yunis again. It was a very difficult period... but now we are in Mawasi Khan Yunis in a tent that does not protect us from the cold of winter or the heat of summer.😞😭

This is our tent, its floor is made of cardboard, as you can see, and I suffer from severe eczema due to the pollution of the air and the materials used, and the medicine is very expensive.😭💔

Urgent: My husband needs a very necessary operation and medication. Please help my husband in order for his health to improve. He is in pain.😞😭🫂🙏🙏

Help us and donate to us. You are our last hope and the lifeline of this life. 🫂🙏

We need you...Donate to us and save what is left of us.😞🙏🙏

Link campaign ⬇️ ⬇️⬇️

https://gofund.me/8f634db2

..

✅️Vetted✅️

@gazavetters

[halamushtaha]

My name is Hala, from Deir al-Balah, Gaza. I live with my four children, Abdul, Jaber, Mohammed, and Lian, and my mother-in-law, in a never-ending nightmare. Our home was bombed, and everything we had turned to ashes. Now, we live in a burnt house, with no safety or hope.

My husband, Adham, is stuck in Egypt, and I face this torment alone. My children suffer from hunger and illness, and we have nothing to protect them. Life here is unbearably difficult; every day is a struggle for survival.

I urgently need your help to raise $35,000 so we can escape, as each person requires $5,000. This money isn’t just numbers; it’s our hope for a new life away from pain and suffering. We are human beings who deserve to live, so please don’t let us drown in this nightmare.

Help us, as we are in desperate need of your support.

Vetted @bilal-salah0

[furiousfinnstan]

URGENT!!!Help Abdul Salam Al-Anqar and his family get through this war in Gaza!!!

(URGENT) THEY ARE AT €3,445 OUT OF €50,000 GOAL

I was asked by @nader5555 to make this, if u cannot donate please please share this post. Copy pasted from a message i was sent:

"Only a Few Hours Left Before We Enter Our First Year of War, Genocide, Starvation, and Displacement A Final Plea from the Heart of Hell: Save Us Before Hope Dies 💔🔥 I am Abdel Salam, and I have nothing left but words written by a trembling hand ✍️. The war has not only destroyed our lives; it has taken everything from us. Our home, which was once our refuge, is now a pile of rubble 🏚️.

My car, my only source of livelihood, was destroyed in a sudden strike 🚗, and the work that sustained us is now a distant memory 💼. Today, I live in an endless nightmare. Under a sun that burns everything in its path 🌞🔥, my family and I sit in a worn-out tent, a tent that shields us neither from the summer heat nor the winter cold ❄️. Insects 🦟 invade the place, diseases consume our bodies 🩺, and my younger siblings cry from hunger and thirst 🍞💧. We have no clean water or a crumb of bread to ease our hunger. Each passing day deepens the weight of this hell we live in.

My Daughter Eman is Dying from Malnutrition 😨 My daughter Eman suffers from malnutrition; I have nothing to feed or treat her with. The deterioration of her health is killing me slowly. Every glance in her eyes, every pain she endures, crushes my heart 💔. How can I explain to her that what was once our hope has now turned into nothing but a mirage? The Night Only Adds to Our Pain 🌙 The night does not bring us rest; it only adds to our pain. We sleep on hard ground, feeling the cold in every bone of our bodies 🥶, with nothing but pieces of cardboard 📦 to cover us. My wife Aya cries in silence 🥺 as she watches our daughter’s future fade before her eyes. My mother Eman suffers from illness and needs urgent medical care 🩺💊.

My Father Ahmed is Sick with Cancer and Needs Emergency Treatment My father Ahmed, who is sick with cancer, needs emergency treatment outside Gaza, and the cost of his treatment is at least $10,000, not including accommodation. As he suffers from severe pain, I cannot provide the treatment he needs due to our dire situation.

My Siblings Are in Constant Suffering ⚰️ My brother Omar was unable to continue his studies due to the situation. My brother Nader could not take his high school exams, and my younger brother Mohammad suffers from brittle bones and needs treatment we cannot afford. Every day we live brings us one step closer to the end. Death surrounds us from every side: if not from hunger 🍽️, then from illness 🦠. And if not from illness, then from the despair that devours our souls. Where is Humanity? Where is the World? 🌍💔 We want to leave the devastated Gaza Strip to escape the machinery of destruction and killing and the severity of hunger and poverty. The cost of travel for each person is $5,000, and we are a family of seven members, bringing the total cost to $35,000.

Where are the compassionate hearts? Are you waiting for us to disappear into the depths of this suffering? Are you waiting until death takes us before you act? We are drowning, and we don’t have enough strength to scream for help 🆘. Will you let this cry go unanswered? 😭 Your donation today is our last thread of hope. With the little support I received, I was able to buy a simple phone 📱 to reach out to you. But the bitter truth is that what I and my family need is much greater. We are not asking for much; just enough to save our lives from this hell 🔥. Every donation, no matter how small, could be the difference between life and death for us 👐. Don’t Let Us Disappear in the Darkness of Suffering 🌑 Don’t let our story end here. Be the light that guides us to salvation 🕯️✨.

With every tear, with every pain, I write this final plea to you, Abdel Salam."

taglist

@butchniqabi @xinakwans

@batekush

@appsa

@nerdyqueerr

@butchsunsetshimmer

@biconicfinn @stopmotionguy

@t4tvampireisms

@strangeauthor

@bryoria @shesnake

@legallybrunettedotcom

@lautakwah @sovietunion

@neechees @evillesbianvillain @antibioware

@akajustmerry @dizzymoods

@ree-duh @neptunerings

@explosionshark

@heritageposts

@ibtisams

@schoolteacher

[narriaa]

I don't get your logic about the 'manipulation'

There are different definitions of manipulation, of course, but often it's "trying to change a situation by emitting a reaction or message" and it's considered as an intentional act.

This is not what it is about, here.

You tell me "don't talk to me like that, I don't know you" -> it's good you've etablished your boundaries even though I now feel mortified I've trampled over them and/or that I've misjudged the situation. Thus, I'm now willing to defenestrate myself. This is not manipulation because I'm not trying to make you change your mind. I will apologize and feel meek and embarrassed but as long as I'm not trying to reproach you (verbally or not) for speaking up about your boundaries, that's not manipulation. I'm free to feel the way I do.

You feel bad about making me stressed out? I didn't ask for your concern about this point. Why is me feeling bad about trampling over a boundary something I have to work on so that you don't feel bad at speaking up? As a reminder: do not take into account what someone is feeling about your boundaries when you're stating them!

I'm not asking for you to be concerned by my feelings (and the user before didn't seem to ask either), let me marinate in my shame! If you don't feel confident to set up your boundaries without upsetting someone, then you go work on it, because, honestly, you will upset a lot of people and it's still a necessity that you etablish your Dos&Donts. As long as they don't reproach it to you, people aren't manipulating you.

Btw when someone says "don't talk to me like that, I don't know you" the normal thing to do is apologize for the perceived overfamiliarity and correct the behavior. Just in case anyone was wondering

[motazmohammed]

Hello my supporting friends ! 🇵🇸🍉❤

I am Mohammed Saqr , 22 yrs , a Palestinian youngman, from Gaza, seeking to save my 12 _ member family from the hell of the war by moving to a safe place till the gruesome war ends.

Our suffering and hardship started on 14th October, 2023 when my family was forcibly displaced from the north to the south under a life-threatening situation. As a result, our houses were completely destroyed and demolished, and our business accordingly went with the wind. Nothing has been left to be a source of livelihood. No shelters to house us nor a livelihood source to live on.

We have been living miserably in tents since the early days of the war. Life had become very hard and tough. No means of life still exists. Getting the least level of life is now hard and impossible. All our hope is to secure the daily basic necessities but this seems more often impossible that is why we are suffering the hardship of life. You can't imagine how hard it is to get food, drink water, medicine and other facilities. Life has become dire and sad in addition to the hot weather inside the hot tents that adds to our pain and unbelievable sufferings. Words can't show the miserable situations and circumstances we are experiencing nowadays due to the unfair war.

A part of our daily sufferings to get the least of what we need. Imagine how you feel when you wait for at least four hours in queue .Things are the worst one has ever

experienced. That is why I am asking for you generous contribution to help me secure the least of what we daily need and to find safety and peace for the twenty-member family who are now tasting all forms of torture and sorrow.

Every day we wake up to find things move from bad to worse. No sign is there for the war to end and this add to our unhappiness and miserable life. Despair and hopelessness have become new forms of our life as we are now homeless , displaced and jobless.

Please don't spare this moment of helping a family in bad need. You add happiness and hope to people who lost every single thing in their life. You can help us by donating whatever you can or by sharing my link to other generous donors.

Thank you so much for supporting us in these dire times.❤

Our campaign has been reblogged by @bilal-salah0 @90-ghost @nabulsi

@brutaliakhoa @brokenbackmountain @breathtakinglandscapes @cockworkangels

@khanger @knownoshamc @the-awkward-reblobber @theartofanimation

@hello-from-the-night-archives @stillstreet @stalinistqueens @sagabrielle @sar-soor

@roseillith @lady-shadow-and-darkness @nabulsi @iloveplantssomuchiwanttobeone

@tboynut @wildfeather5002 @heritageposts @honeytonedhottie @h @cheloneuniverse

@cheaperimint @sinhasfluffyheadfur @antinmonyie @amatteurrwave

@awesomepeoplehangingouttogether @sissa-arrows @taviamoth

@shamelessshepherd @1tsny4nc4t @fairycandles @girlinafairytale @fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain

@just-browsing1222-deactivated20

@mothblossoms @aleciosun @fluoresensitive

@khizuo @lesbiandardevil @transmutationisms

@schoolhater @timogsilangan @appsa

@buttercuparry @sayrug @malcriada

@palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry

@annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @feluka

@tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides

@riding-with-the-wild-hunt @visenyasdragon

@belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif

@kordeliiius @brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams

@troythecatfish @theropoda @tamarrud