#i've been thinking about it ever since i heard the news and i was afraid to get my hopes up

[charliedawn]

(is it alright if I send a request?! Feel free to ignore this if not. I've heard there are some new rules regarding that?) So what if their s/o had to travel somewhere outside the country/state (could be something work/family related) for like a week or so, which Slashers would take it the hardest/easiest (basically who has separation anxiety and who is chill lol)?! Hopefully this makes sense, sorry for bad english?! I have a feeling Brahms (and maybe Jason) are in the first category, but your stories are always full of suprises so 🤷

Mature themes mentioned. You've been warned.

Jason would be the worst when it comes to abandonment issues. He would be too afraid of you leaving him forever.

He'd come up with various excuses to make you stay.

He'd wrap his arms around you and refuse to let you go. The man is touch-starved. He'd beg to come with you.

If you didn't let him ? Well...I think he'd be miserable.

Jason *whines and cries against your shoulder while holding you close* : "Stay. Please. Stay."

For him, to speak takes tremendous effort—so when he does ? That means it is important.

Do not leave the poor man alone without anything to contact you with, or you'd come back to a mess. He'd have turned the whole house into a target practice.

And believe me, you don't want to be in the way of his machete...

Brahms would be close second after Jason. He'd make you stay by any means necessary.

Brahms *breathes heavily* : "DO NOT LEAVE ME !"

His parents told him they would be gone for only a few days—but they never came back.

He wouldn't let you do the same.

He tried to get Greta to stay, but it failed. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Brahms *grabs you and groans* : "If you leave me, I'll find you...I'll find you, Y/N."

The way he uttered your name made you shiver. Brahms would be close to a break down if you were gone for a few minutes. Imagine his state if it was for more than a few days ?

The moment you got back, he'd be borderline hysterical and crush you in a bear hug—crying and sobbing for you to never leave him again.

Bo has serious abandonment issues as well but—unlike Brahms or Jason—he would be more radical in his ways to make you stay.

Bo *grabs your arm and grits his teeth* "OH NO YOU DON'T !"

Bo was hated by his mother and it only aggravated his loneliness until he became...well...very self-centred and afraid of the pain.

The moment he gets attached to someone—their freedom is of no interest to him whatsoever.

Bo would rather tackle you to the ground, attach you or even have sex with you for you not to leave him.

That redneck isn't a quitter. Good luck trying to make him stay away.

"WHO THE F*CK GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO LEAVE ME, HUH ?!"

Yeah...He's not going to cry, but you might. Sorry.

And in the category worse abandonment issues we also have Vincent. Of course the other twin wouldn't be very far from the first.

Vincent is...gentler than Bo ? He wasn't hated by his family. He was actually rather liked.

So, his wouldn't be as bad—but still.

There is a reason he wanted to make all his wax statues from actual people. He is scared of being lonely...He likes to be surrounded.

And since all the people in his town treated him and his family as freaks—he couldn't make a lot of connections apart to his brothers.

He was lonely. And hence, he'd be afraid to lose the only person he ever cared about than them. You.

So, he'd be very hesitant to let you go and try to make you stay with gifts and soft touches. Try to make you understand how much you mean to him before eventually letting you go. Just so you know that you'd be taking a part of him with you.

You might be surprised, but Pennywise belongs to the category of the slashers who would be very upset by the lack of physical proximity.

Indeed, even though he hates physical touch, he is still clingy when it comes to the presence of the people he loves—one of the reasons why he stays with Penny.

So, he'd be upset, a little bit more moody than usual without you around. He'd be constantly looking at the road and unconsciously hoping you'd come back.

Pennywise *sighs deeply to himself* : "Come on, you old clown...Don't be so stupid. Come on. Stop thinking about...about..."

He'd fight against his inner demons and believe that you'd come back on your own...until the very end.

"...Oh, you're leaving, human ?"

Surprisingly enough, Penny isn't as clingy as people think he is.

He does like physical contact a lot and would be very sad to see you go, but he also knows he is a god and would be able to get to you whatever happens.

Penny is confident in his abilities, maybe too much.

So, he'd keep a smile on and giggle while waving to you when you go.

But, remember...

He's always watching.

You try to escape ? He'd know.

And he'd hunt you down. He'd make you regret ever trying to escape. He'd drag you back if he has to.

Penny *giggles darkly* : "Aww...Poor poor Y/N. Don't look so sad. We'll be together forever. Isn't that what we wanted ?"

Freddy would take it badly, but old habits die hard. He'd find a way to blame you and move on...no matter what.

"Ya think you can hurt me, huh ? Well, I've got news for you, ~sweetheart. You can go. I can always find ya a replacement."

Douchebag attitude is Freddy's defense mechanism.

You want to leave ? Fine. He'll find a way to fill the hole. Booze. Brothels. Chaos...

Whatever he can do, he'll do. Freddy needs a moral compass in order to stay in check. You and Michael fill that position.

But, if you're gone ? Then, Freddy would be missing an important part of his functioning mechanism and would go back to his old ways.

He'd be lost. Trying to find himself all the wrong ways all over again...

For his safety and others, make sure to remind him that you care for him from time to time—especially if you're going somewhere he can't follow.

And be sure to invite him into your dreams from time to time. 😉

Michael would remain himself. He'd watch you go and stay impassive. Because he knows it wouldn't change a thing.

He expects you to never come back. It would be better.

Every time he takes a knife in his hand, he wouldn't find that tingling feeling...the little voice in his head telling him to kill you.

He wouldn't be so afraid of hurting you every single day. He wouldn't have to lock his door every night because he's afraid he might wake up with your blood on his hands.

He'd even tense up when you come back.

You *smile when you see him* : "Well, hello there. Missed me ?"

Michael : "..."

You *smile falter* : "Oh...Well, okay then."

Michel *slowly approaches you and slowly hugs you*

He did miss you. He just didn't know how to tell you...or stop himself from grabbing the kitchen knife and plunging it into your heart over and over.

Michael would die before hurting you, but it doesn't mean he isn't a slasher. Or that your love for him isn't dangerous.

Arthur would put his feelings aside and try to appear cruel.

"You think I care ? ~Oh, sweetie. I've spent most of my life caring about people. Not anymore. Not ever again...So, if you want to leave me ? Go ahead. There's the door."

You have to understand, Arthur has been hurt most of his life...by life itself.

He was never lucky. He never had any friends. He was basically alone most of his life.

He wouldn't want to be kept down, and so wouldn't want the same for you. He understands the need to leave. More than anyone else.

He'd prefer you leave than stay and be miserable—like he was. So, he would never stop you from leaving, no matter if there was a risk you wouldn't come back.

Arthur *smiles and holds your hand* "...Please. Don't let me stop you. Be free."

If you want to leave ? He won't stop you.

Because that's how much he loves you.

He'd let you have your freedom. No matter what.

"I'm going out.", you said.

"Have fun, honey.", he replied. He didn't even look up from his newspapers.

"I may be out for a couple of days.", you added—waiting for a reaction.

"Sure. I'll be right here when you come back.", he answered and smiled—but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Jack is a ghost. He doesn't really have feelings anymore and can sound cold sometimes. But, it's not because he doesn't care. It's just he knows what it is to have responsibilities.

He failed at being human—and he wouldn't want the same for you.

He would of course be worried that you'd leave forever, but honestly ? He'd be happy to let you live your life as you intend.

He doesn't have abandonment issues.

Matter-of-fact, he's the one who leaves most of the time. Of course, he wouldn't want your relation to stop so suddenly and would prefer you to come clear to him.

He wouldn't get mad, but he'd feel a little more dull and emotionless inside.

He'd become even more of a ghost than he was—but wouldn't let you see.

Jack *smiles before you close the door* : "...Bring back a souvenir, alright ? Something...something nice."

And that would probably be the only attempt he'd do to hint that he wants you to come back.

[avocadorablepirate]

Quiet Appreciation

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x gn!reader

Summary: headcanon - just exploring what Law would be like with an artistic S/O (I've only mentioned a few art forms).

Word Count: 725

Warnings: none (at least none that I can think of)

A/N: I had no clue what to title this so I went with something that's relatively close to the contents of this post ._.

Firstly, whether you're together or not, if he sees a bunch of art supplies that he knows you'll love, you can be sure that he's going to buy them for you. Especially if it's something he's heard you mention from time to time.

Then he'll casually give it to you like he just picked it up on a whim and didn't spend a good half an hour deliberating what type of paint, yarn, pencils, or other supplies you like. Or, he'll leave it in your room for you to find later on.

Does not want to make it seem like he put a lot of effort into it.

But when you find it and thank him in front of everyone, he can't stop the blush that creeps onto his cheeks. He'll try playing it cool like it's not a big deal, but he's definitely trying to stop himself from smiling.

If you're someone who crochets or knits, you'll sit in a corner of his room quietly working on your latest project while he works at his desk, and when he looks up to check up on you he finds it so endearing how your brows are furrowed in concentration. Sometimes, if he's tired of working he'll just come sit across from you and simply watch.

Definitely would discreetly ask you whether you could do the whole amigurumi thing, and then would go on to hint that a Bepo plushie would be pretty cute.

Also, he'd be a complete hypocrite and tell you to fix your posture while you work (like I just know Law sits/sleeps at his desk in the most uncomfortable positions). But it's only because he cares.

If you're someone who draws or paints though, he'll ask for your artistic opinion when he wants to get a new tattoo. He might just even ask you to design it for him.

Would probably keep any artwork that you give him safely in a file or somewhere on his desk where he can look at it every day.

Law would get flustered if you ask him whether you could sketch him, but he would agree since you're asking. Suddenly, he feels very shy under your focused gaze, and even though you told him he can continue doing whatever it is he's doing, he'll try his best to stay still.

If you're someone who writes (stories, poetry, etc.) the two of you would sit across from each other at his table, focused on your own work. If it gets really late he'll be sure to make you a cup of tea, and quietly place it beside you because he doesn't want to disrupt your creative flow.

Again, if he's tired he'd just sit next to you and watch you work while also trying to take a peek at what you're writing. You biting at the tip of your pen lost in thought, brings a small smile to his face.

Law would be more than happy when you ask him to read through your work. He would give you genuine feedback while also showing his appreciation for your talent.

If by any chance you're facing writer's block, he'll suggest that the crew take a day off in a nearby town, and despite being packed with work, he'll take you around in hopes of helping you find something that inspires you.

So I don't know a lot about pottery, but I think Law would be fascinated by the way you mold the clay with such ease and skill, transforming it into something incredible. I think watching you work would relax him.

When you ask him whether he would like to make something himself, he hesitates but agrees with a casual shrug, trying to hide the fact that he's been wanting to try it ever since he saw you do it. Though once he starts he's nervous because he's afraid he'll make a mess, but then your soft laugh and gentle guidance help him relax.

He secretly loves the way your hands rest over his as you direct his movements.

Overall, Law might not always show it, but he loves seeing you express yourself through art. And, though he may not explicitly say it, he's genuinely curious about what inspires you. It helps him see things from a different perspective and also gives him a glimpse into your world.

I was kinda just fantasizing about this, and thought it would be pretty cute. Like can you imagine...oof

[gummysharklover]

COLOGNE !

mature themes! mdni; 18+

summary: ᯓ˚࿔ you and schlatt fall into a predicament, and he's too scared to do anything about it

notes: ᯓ˚࿔ angst </3 ᯓ˚࿔ fem!reader (no prns, but reader is referred to as his girl and "little miss") ᯓ˚࿔ pet names (angel, baby, doll, toots, sweetheart) ᯓ˚࿔ fwb fic ᯓ˚࿔ hurt / no comfort ᯓ˚࿔ no explicit smut! ᯓ˚࿔ slight insecure!reader ᯓ˚࿔ kind of rushed ending ᯓ˚࿔ not proofread!

wc: ᯓ˚࿔ 827

From the moment you met Schlatt, you noticed it felt different than most of your friendships. It seemed there was always some sort of chemistry—a feeling of more than just friends. And your suspicions were confirmed on that stupid Tuesday night.

"Jay, you need to come over tonight," You plead over the phone.

"Toots," He sighs, "I can't. I just finished streaming, and I need to go to bed."

"But I haven't seen you in forever!" You jest.

"It's been two days."

"See? Forever!"

You hear him laugh, and it's music to your ears.

"Fine. I'll be over soon. Take out the good stuff," You hear the smile as you laugh at the stupid joke.

You hear the doorknob jiggle as Schlatt tries to take the key out, and you smile, knowing he'll complain about it.

"You gotta get that damn lock fixed," He groans for the umpteenth time.

"Just need some lubricant or something," You mutter.

He toes off his shoes, "You got the good stuff?"

"Yes, Jay, Mario Kart is up and running," You smile.

A few drinks in, and he's yelling, "Eat shit," As he throws a shell at you.

You squint, focused on the screen, "Not gonna get me, asshole. I've got a banana, and I'm not afraid to use it."

He lets out a laugh under his breath.

"What?"

"It's nothin', Toots."

You pause the game and look at him, "No, Shlatt, what? Tell me." The name drags on—you don't use it often anymore.

He cocks his head, "You're last-naming me, really?"

"Tell me why you were laughing," You pout, and he can't resist.

"Just a stupid joke. About how I'm not afraid to use my banana."

You scoff, but he catches your smile.

"Oh, does little-miss-innocent like my naughty joke?" He chuckles.

You scoff again, "Since when am I innocent?"

"I've never heard you say anything inappropriate, so I just assumed," He shrugs.

You look up at him with a teasing smile, "I'm far from innocent, Jay."

He's stunned for a moment, but heat rises to your face when he leans close to you and says, "Yeah? Why don't you show me?"

You stand in the bathroom naked, out of Schlatt's view, "But what if you don't like it?"

He snorts a laugh, "What if I don't like what? Your body? I guarantee that's impossible, Doll."

"What does that mean?"

"Look, don't pretend I haven't looked when you wear those tiny shorts and those skimpy tops. You've left little to my imagination, Angel. I think about it all the time."

Heat rises to your stomach, and you feel excitement prick at your fingers, "Really? You do?"

He groans in fake annoyance, "Of course I do. Now, will you please come out so I can finally see your beauty?"

You walk out, hands covering your face, "I know it's probably not—"

"You're beautiful," He cuts you off, standing from your bed to walk towards you, "Prettier than I ever imagined."

You let out a slight whine at his praise, and he gently grabs your hands, pulling them down.

"Gotta see that pretty face, Doll. Otherwise, none of this is worth it."

"Jay," You whine.

"What? Am I not allowed to make my girl feel special?"

His girl. You could get used to that.

And it went on like this—whispers of sweet nothings into your ear, cuddling, and pet names that seemed never-ending.

"Angel."

"Sweetheart."

"Baby."

And you noticed how they were different than the usual ones. He said them softer, not as brash and brazen as his usual "Toots" and "Doll."

It was new and fresh and lovely.

Then, your meetings became quick and rushed. You start to crave the feeling of his soft, loving touch. You miss the way he would leave gentle kisses down the spine of your back.

"Jay..." You murmur as he sits up.

"Yeah, Toots?"

And you feel a sting in your heart. What happened to Angel? What happened to his girl?

"What is this? What are we doing?"

His movements stutter as the words process, "What do you mean?"

"I mean us. What are we, Jay? It's starting to feel like more than just fun."

He shakes his head, "I can't do more."

Your chest caves in, and you feel like you can't breathe, "So, what? This means nothing to you?"

Schlatt runs a hand over his face with a sigh, "We need to end this. Before it gets too messy."

A lump forms in your throat as you watch him stand up, "So that's it? You're just going to walk away?"

"I'm sorry," Is all he says as he walks out of the room and out of your life, leaving you alone in your cold, empty bed.

The next morning, you wake up with puffy eyes, and more tears spill as you look at the unoccupied side of the bed.

You regret that stupid Tuesday night, still able to smell his cologne on your pillow.

fanks 4 readin!!!

[lavender-at-heart]

Could you write Bella swan x tall fem vampire reader? I need reader to feed on humans that are criminals and almost always smokin a cigarette

Omg yes gay Bella is the best version of her. THIS FIC IS NOT COMPLETED, I FELT BAD FOR TAKING SO LONG SO HERES A SHORT VERSION, I WILL ADD TO IT SOON WOTH A MUCH LONGER ENDING!!!! if you want to be tagged in the finish product lmk. Also there are themes of sa (think alleyway scene in first movie) and I know that's an uncomfortable subject so I kinda glazed over and left out detail for that part.

Bella Swan let out a huff of boredom as she walked down the dreary street. An attempt to regain her friendship with Jessica ended up with Jess being spooked. Bellas new tastes were too "extreme " for her and now Bella was left alone, outside the movie theater in Port Angeles. A little miffed but not unpleasant to be alone again, she decided to not make waste of the evening out. Unsure of where to go, she headed forward, down the dark path of concrete, narrowly missing a chance ride on a motorcycle. Bella was in a dark place. Mentally, always, but right now her mind led her to enter a particularly dingey alley way. Her heart seemed to pull her towards the dark abyss before her, much like how her heart pulled her towards biology class on her first day at Forks High.

As she neared a turn in the path a sinking feeling began to creep up her spine. A feeling she had not felt since...

There was a man. Smoking, head turned pointedly towards the ground. He stood there like a beacon to Bella.

Something to make him see me

The man looked up, with that familiar look. Sinister comments laced with something sickly sweet, and Bella knew he'd come running. He had to have, surely he would. The man was not shy in his approach, and Bella did her best to stay calm. Every seccond her safety grew thin. Every minute she took one apprehensive step back. Until there were no more steps to take. Just keep it up for a little while longer, she told herself. He'll be here any moment.

But that moment never came. The sinking realization that Bella was alone with this man, and Edward was nowhere to be found made her stomach drop.

Just when she was about to really try to scream and run, the man was shoved to the wall opposite to Bella, the speed of it whooshing in her face. She knew what it was, the who was not certain. Her headt skipped wildly.

He came! After all!

These thoughts were cut short after she quickly realized her saviour was female. Maybe Alice had seen her in danger and come to the rescue. But this was not Alice. Not Alice, not Esme, not Rosalie, not even Victoria.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's impolite to harass pretty girls?"

The metallic tone dripped from the vampires lips, before a crunch was heard. This was no vegetarian, that's for sure. Bella stood, stuck to the wall like flies in a glue trap. Not afraid as she once was, but she knew how crazed normal vampires could be.

Once she was done drinking she turned around with a cool look on her face.

"Thanks" the human girl replied with ample sincerity.

The vampire held a quizzical expression. No fear? No running? No concern or confusion? Seeing this, quiet Bella made an attempt to explain.

"I've been around vampires before"

"Ah" was all the ethereal woman said. The way she said it reminded her of him.

She reached into her old denim jeans and retrieved a cigarette of all things. How odd, Bella thought. She let out a huff of laughter. The flame from the lighter contrasted with cool toned skin, followed by a drag and blow of smoke. The woman looked at her cigarette and spoke again.

"Started as a human, was never able to kick it. Not like it can kill me anyway." She outstretched her hand and offered Bella the cigarette. Bella looked meek and wide eyed. Not wanting to seem "uncool" She took it and gave it a try. She inhaled wrong, she exhaled wrong and then coughed too much. The woman laughed and gave her a pat on the back, red eyes crinkled with amusement.

"you're just a baby aren't ya?"

Bellas face turned beet red. "No I'm not, I just, just never had one before." She stuttered out.

"Breathe in a little, hold, breathe out."

Bella tried to listen to the advice given to her but all she could focus on was the way her voice hit the air. A warm feeling filled her despite the cold weather. A parasitic curiosity filled her. Who was she? Where was she from? How old? Name? Favorite this? Favorite that? Bella wanted to know everything and anything about her, immediately. She knew she would follow this woman to the ends of the earth, and Edward could go fuck himself.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Hopelessly devoted to you

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 4.1K

SUMMARY | You and Bucky have been pining over each other for a long time, but both of you are too afraid to take the next step. This all comes to a halt when Tony throws a Grease-themed party, and the two of you dress up as the main characters in the movie.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning, do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Two idiots in love, too much love for the movie Grease.

A/N | SO, I was watching Grease again, and this idea popped in my head and hasn't left my brain so far, so you can all enjoy it with me. I will forever have a crush on John Travolta in that movie so now I'm turning it into my other crush aka Bucky Barnes 👀

RIP Olivia Newton-John, you were the best Sandy we all could have wished for 🖤

Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Read on AO3

It is your turn tonight to pick out the movie night, and you have been wanting to watch your guilty pleasure film again for as long as you can remember, even though not everyone is as into it as you are. ''None of you have a choice, we're watching Grease tonight!'' you said with the widest smile on your face you can make. You heard multiple grunts from your fellow Avengers, they already know you will sing along to every single song, and they weren't happy about it. It's not because you can't sing, they have all praised you multiple times for the fact that you can sing well, but you just get very much into it. ''I'm looking forward to it, doll, I haven't seen it,'' Bucky said, and your mouth practically fell on the floor. ''You're kidding me, right? Oh, you have to sit next to me because now I want to know your reaction!'' you said happily before running out of the kitchen to get the snacks for tonight.

''What?'' he said quirking an eyebrow, he didn't understand what was going on. ''Oh you're gonna have quite the experience tonight, there's a reason we usually don't sit near her when she picks the movies,'' Sam told him with a bit of a snicker in his voice. ''Well, I think it's going to be fun, and I don't mind sitting close to Y/N during movie night,'' Bucky said with a shrug, you usually snuggled up to him and he didn't mind, it was always the highlight of his day. Tonight wasn't any different, he even bought you an extra soft and warm blanket to use during movie nights since you always ran colder than the average person. You didn't hear any of the conversations that were going on, and even though you were mostly fine with it, it still stung a little that they reacted that way when you chose the movies.

You texted Bucky that you were going to the grocery store to pick up the snacks, and he asked if you could maybe pick up some Reese's peanut butter cups for him, and you would gladly do so. You went to the parking garage and walked over to your bike, it was a beautiful day and you could easily fit snacks in both your bike as well as your backpack. It was also a good way to clear your head a little bit, so you drove around New York for a bit, towards your favorite place in the whole city with a beautiful view of the Statue of Liberty. Ever since you came here many years ago, you could never get enough of seeing it, and you parked your bike before sitting down with your back against a tree, looking at the view.

After sitting there for 30 minutes, you decide to FaceTime Bucky, because you were still not feeling all too well. ''Oh, I've got to take this,'' Bucky said to everyone before quickly walking to his bedroom, he didn't want everyone to know it was you FaceTiming him. ''Hi doll, what's going on?'' he said as he picked up, the phone perched up against the wall in his kitchenette as he prepared a snack. ''Hey, not much, just feeling a little shitty about what happened earlier. I was honestly really looking forward to watching Grease, but now I feel like I should have picked something else,'' you said, trying to fight back the tears. ''You know they're just assholes, right? They don't get to make my girl feel like that,'' he said and your stomach did a little flip when he said that.

He often called you his girl when he was talking to you, but never to anyone else, which was exactly why he walked away from the rest. ''Yeah, I know, but that doesn't make it suck any less though. Thought maybe a bike ride through the city would help, but as evident by the phone call, it didn't,'' you said and gave a weak smile. ''Doll, look at me, please. If you're not up for it, we could watch the movie, just the two of us, tonight, and the rest can all watch a shitty movie that no one likes anyway,'' he offered, but you shook your head. ''Thanks, but that would only mean I'll give in to them and I will never give them that satisfaction,'' you said with a giggle. ''I'm just gonna head to the store and get ready for the movie night, I wanna snuggle up to my favorite super soldier again tonight. You might want to warn Steve he won't be sitting alone tonight,'' you said laughing, but Bucky looked at you with a serious expression.

''Just kidding cowboy, don't get so riled up!'' you said with a laugh. ''You're the only one I want to snuggle with and you know it,'' and Bucky's expression softened immediately, and a twinkling appeared in his eyes. God, you were so over the moon for that man, but you were just too afraid to take the first step. So for now, you would be perfectly content with flirting and snuggling during movie nights. ''Alright, now let's go to the store before I'll die of hunger without my Reese's,'' Bucky said dramatically. ''Okay okay, going now! See you later,'' you said before waving goodbye and hanging up. Talking to him always made you feel better.

When you finally made it to the store you decided to grab Bucky's favorite cookies too as a surprise, together with the Reese's because he helped you feel better earlier, it was the least you could do. The drive back to the Compound was much better, and before you knew it you were back in the parking garage. ''Hi doll, how are you feeling now?'' Bucky said when he walked in, hands in his pockets as he looked you up and down, he was gone for you the second he learned you love riding your motorbike too, just like him. ''A lot better thanks to you. Would you mind helping me with the groceries? I got a lot more than intended,'' you said and he happily agreed. When everything was stashed away you muttered a thank you before kissing him on the corner of his mouth, leaving him stunned for a good few minutes.

''Buck? Everything okay?'' Steve asked when he walked into the kitchen, and he saw Bucky standing there with a huge grin on his face, cupping his cheek where you kissed him minutes earlier. ''Yeah...'' he sighed but the grin never left his face. ''Okay, let's get you out of here before you're growing attached to the floor,'' Steve said laughing, he knew damn well this was your doing. Bucky has told him all about his crush on you numerous times, he told him every single thing he noticed about you that made his heart race, or gave him goosebumps. ''God, I never thought I could ever be in love with someone so badly,'' he once told Steve, and it was a good look on him. Better than the grumpy persona he usually shows.

~ During movie night ~

''Everyone ready?'' you asked and the sigh you heard didn't go unnoticed by you, but you started the movie regardless before walking over to Bucky, who was all ready for you with the blanket he got you a while back. ''Hi doll,'' he said softly with a smile as you sat down, this time wasting no time to snuggle up to Bucky as he rested his arm across your shoulders. You didn't bother looking behind you, instead focussing completely on the movie, and as soon as the opening scene on the beach started, you got goosebumps. There were snacks opened and drinks shared around, and everyone got comfortable. As much as they acted to not like it, they still enjoyed watching it now and again. You kept looking over at Bucky to see his reaction at certain points, and you were belting along with every single song in the movie.

When your favorite song arrived, you couldn't help but sing it for Bucky, especially now that he was sitting right next to you. The moment Sandy started singing ''Hopelessly Devoted To You'', you couldn't take your eyes off of him, or more specifically off of his lips. He listened to your voice, god he could listen to you singing forever and never get sick of it. When the last notes of the song died down, Bucky softly leaned into you. When your lips barely brushed past each other, Tony almost choked on his drink and both of your faces snapped up to him to see if he was okay. He made a motion that showed he was okay now, but the moment between you and Bucky was gone, so you turned back to the movie, sighing deeply and laying your head on Bucky's shoulder.

The rest of the movie was more of the same, you singing along and the rest of the Avengers just having fun watching the movie while eating snacks. When the movie was over, everyone stayed for a little while and talked about the movie, just like they did every time you chose the movie. You and Bucky were in a deep discussion about what he thought about it, and he couldn't stop mentioning how good you would look if you would wear those kinds of outfits. ''I think it would suit you, doll. You'd fit perfectly into the 40s with a dress like that,'' he said with a wink, and you can't help but think about that a little more. ''You two can talk about your roleplaying fantasies when we're not here!'' Tony joked and you turned bright red, it was almost as if he read your mind.

During your discussion with Bucky, neither of you heard about the fact that Tony wanted to throw a Grease-themed party for the two of you to finally get together. Everyone sees how much you've been pining over one another so this would be the perfect moment. ''So? Will the two of you come to my party too?'' Tony said after that. ''Party?'' ''What party?'' Bucky and you asked at the same time. ''My costume party of course! I think the two of you should get dressed as Sandy and Danny from Grease, don't you think?'' he asked the rest of them agreed wholeheartedly. You looked at Bucky and shrugged your shoulders. ''Sounds like fun, I'll be there. What about you, Buck?'' you looked at him with hopeful eyes. He wasn't planning on going, but when you look at him like that, he couldn't possibly say no. ''Sure, but I won't dress up!'' he said with a grunt.

~ The days leading up to Tony's party ~

The last few days, you've been more excited than ever to go to one of Tony's parties. In all fairness, the most time was spent convincing Bucky to dress up too, and he finally gave in after you showed him the outfit you were going to wear. It truly reminded him of his past and he almost bent you over his kitchen counter right then and there when you walked out in your costume, but he didn't want to ruin your friendship by doing that. He didn't know that you were secretly hoping he'd do just that, because that is the exact reason you showed him, but he didn't give in. ''Oh, I can't wait to see what you will look like in your costume! Although, there's not much of a change to your look from now...'' you said, Bucky usually wore all black with a leather jacket anyways.

The one thing you didn't tell Bucky, however, is that you were planning on doing an outfit change to truly catch his attention, which may or may not have been Tony's idea. At first, you were against it, but when he explained his plan, you accepted it eventually. ''Also, I don't think I'll be able to get much dancing in during the party, since Tony asked me to be the singer of the evening instead of hiring someone,'' you told him. ''Really? That's amazing doll, I love hearing your voice when you sing,'' he said before you walked back into his bathroom to change into your regular clothing again. ''Did you maybe want to go for a ride when I'm changed?'' you ask him, and he turns bright red, still thinking about you in the outfit you just wore and what he wanted to do to you.

''Uh, only if you want to, doll,'' he said and he tried to look busy when you walked out in your normal clothes. ''Well, I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to,'' you said with a laugh. ''It would be nice to ride around the city with both our bikes again. Maybe you could give me a tour of Brooklyn while we're at it? I recall you saying you've been wanting to do that for a while,'' you said and he finally realized what you were saying. ''Oh, yeah you're right! Do you want to take both? I think it might be nice if we take mine so I could give you a nice tour of Brooklyn,'' he said, hoping you would say yes. ''We could maybe even bring some snacks for the ride?'' and with that, you agreed. ''Okay, but only if I get to choose the snacks!'' you say and walk out the door to get ready. ''It's a date!'' he says and you smile before closing the door.

Both of you changed into more appropriate clothes to wear on his motorbike before he took you on the tour, and it was a sight to behold. The two of you drove through Brooklyn for hours, mostly because Bucky constantly slowed down or stopped somewhere to tell you all about his memories, and it truly felt special to share this moment with him. Just the two of you, not a single care in the world, sharing memories that he can still remember after everything that has been done to him. When the sun started to go down, Bucky drove to a bit of a secluded spot where you won't be seen so easily, so the two of you could enjoy the sunset together without being bothered. The downside of being an Avenger is that everyone wanted something from you most of the time, and this would ensure that wouldn't happen.

''Oh wow, I love it here Bucky,'' you tell him as you overlook grassy fields and the sun starting to sink behind them. ''I hoped you would, I like to think of this as my - and now our - special place,'' he said with a soft look on his face, while he gave you a little smile. He sat down against a tree after getting the snacks you brought with you as well as some drinks you brought with you. He spread his legs out in front of him and invited you to sit in between them, which you gladly accepted. Your back was resting against his chest which you could slowly feel rising and falling, your head laying against his shoulder and his arms wrapped delicately around your waist, hands resting on your stomach. Neither of you wanted this moment to end.

''Thank you for everything, Bucky. You're honestly the best friend I could have ever wished for,'' you tell him, and Bucky feels something inside him snap at the word 'friend'. Because that's all you were at this moment, friends. ''You always know exactly how to make me feel like the most special person in the world, and I honestly wouldn't want to have it any other way,'' you told him before letting out a sigh and sinking into his hold even more, your cheek resting just below his collarbone. ''I love you, doll,'' he said at that moment, he couldn't keep it in any longer, and right now seemed like the perfect moment to tell you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, wondering if you heard him right. ''Buck...'' you said, and you saw his face fall when you said that. ''No, Buck, listen to me. I love you too, so incredibly much, and I'm very happy to spend this beautiful evening with you right now,'' you said as you put a hand on his cheek, softly brushing through his stubble.

''I can think of a way to make it even more perfect, though,'' Bucky said and he leaned in to kiss you, but something in this universe didn't want the two of you to kiss. You could feel each other's breaths on your lips as they brushed together ever so subtly when his phone rang and disturbed the moment, snapping both of you out of it right away. ''I'm going to kill whoever is on the other end of that fucking phone,'' he said as he fished his phone out of his pocket, and he saw it was Steve calling. ''What do you want, Rogers?'' he snarled at the man on the other end. ''Wow, Buck, easy! Did I interrupt something?'' he asked and Bucky just grunted as a response, he wasn't going to tell him the two of you almost kissed before he had to ruin it.

''Well, the reason I'm calling is because I need both of you back at the Compound as soon as possible, Fury is sending everyone on an emergency mission and we need everyone so you two lovebirds better get here now,'' he said with a chuckle. ''Fuck off, Rogers. We'll be there,'' he said before quickly hanging up. He immediately softened up when he looked at you, ''I'm so sorry doll, but we have to go back to the Compound for an emergency mission that everyone is required to go on,'' he said with a sigh. ''I think we're gonna have to resume our perfect night another time,'' you said before giving a peck on his cheek. ''Want me to ride back this time?'' you ask, even though Bucky usually didn't let anyone else ride his bike beside himself. ''Okay, but you better not tell anyone before everyone wants to do it!'' he said and the both of you got on.

~ The evening of Tony's party ~

The mission went even better than expected, and now it was finally time to enjoy Tony's party. You haven't seen Bucky all day today, but you got ready a bit earlier since you were preparing to sing that night, and your hair and make-up were perfect for your first outfit. Towards the end of the night, you would go and change into the iconic outfit Sandy wears at the end of the movie, but no one besides you and Tony knew about that plan. He brought up the idea and even though you were a little unsure at first, Tony managed to convince you to do it. Right now, you were wearing a light pink dress with dots on it and the biggest petticoat you could find, making you feel like a real-life doll. You sent Bucky a picture of your finished outfit, and he couldn't believe his eyes, you looked perfect.

He had asked Nat to help him out with his outfit, or more specifically his hair, because he wanted to go all out for you and there was only one way to do just that. Nat was cutting his hair to look exactly like that of Danny's in the movie and even though it was a big change, he has been thinking about cutting his hair for a long time. Nat saw the picture and couldn't get over how gorgeous you look right now. ''She went all out for it, she's the most beautiful woman at the party tonight,'' she said. She would dress up as Rizzo and Wanda would go as Frenchie, with some other female colleagues dressing as Marty and Jan.

The T-birds would consist of Bucky as Danny, and Steve, Tony, Clint, Scott, and Thor would dress up as the rest of their friend group. When Nat was done and Bucky's hair was styled, he was honestly unrecognizable at this moment. His clothes looked the same as he always wore, but the hair made him look handsome, and a lot younger which suited him. ''If Y/N won't make a move now, she really must have hit her head, because you look irresistible,'' Nat said with a wink before walking out the door to get dressed. ''Have fun tonight, and keep me posted,'' she said and Bucky just laughed, all he needed to do now was shave and the look would be complete.

By the time 8 PM arrived, people were slowly trickling into the party room, but Tony gave strict instructions to everyone that no one would be allowed to wear the iconic Sandy look, and everyone listened. You were getting ready to sing for tonight and you started with a few songs that were fitting in the world of Grease, and the people were taking photos and videos of you singing, this would honestly be a good boost for your social profile and you didn't mind it at all, you loved to sing anyways. By the time Tony officially announced that the party started, the band began playing the tune of the opening song and most of the guests sang right along while dancing.

You sang a few songs, and finally, you spotted Bucky at the bar talking to Steve, and he occasionally looked over at you. When you realized he completely changed himself, you really couldn't wait to surprise him later. He shot a few winks the way that made you falter a little in your singing, but no one seemed to notice, and you were glad you could finally announce that you would take a short break and be back later for the finale of your songs, after which a DJ would take over the music. Bucky wasn't the only one transforming, you went to the hairdressers earlier to dye your hair blond to completely undergo your transformation.

''Alright, let's get you out of these clothes and into the clothes Sandy would wear,'' Tony said and you did as he said, not caring he was in the room because you had a bit of a time limit right now, and you still needed to do your hair and make-up too. Tony had gotten Nat out of the crowd to help you with your hair and she audibly gasped when she saw you in the new outfit. ''Damn, if Bucky isn't going to make a move on you now, I'm taking you with me tonight!'' she joked and you laughed when we put on the shoes. ''So, if you do my hair, I'll do my make-up and then I'll go back out,'' you said, and within 30 minutes you were completely transformed and ready to go back out.

Nat already went back into the room and took Bucky front and center to the stage, so he could witness your transformation firsthand, even though he didn't want to. ''Come on, it'll be her last song of the night, so you have to be there to show your support!'' she said and after some more convincing he and the rest of the Avengers made their way to the front of the room. The starting notes of 'You're The One That I Want' started playing and you walked out in your outfit, getting audible gasps from every single person in the room. Bucky couldn't believe what he saw, and his mouth was hanging open when you walk on stage and started singing. Not to the room, no, you sang for Bucky.

Towards the end of the song you pulled him on stage, and when the song ended, you seductively walked up to him and grabbed him by the back of his neck before planting your lips on his, finally getting the kiss both of you have been craving for so long. He immediately deepened it and it earned both of you a few shouts of approval from the room before letting go. ''Fuck, you look gorgeous, doll. Can't take my eyes off of you now,'' he said before going in for more kissing. This time he pulled away from the kiss first, and you finally told him what has been on your mind this whole time. ''Bucky, do you want to be the Danny to my Sandy, and be my boyfriend?'' you said, and he nodded happily, kissing you in a response while grabbing you closer, and that was the perfect start of the rest of your lives together.

[mossy123302]

Ah yes ...more au thoughts..

Philza, the Angel of Death, who roamed the earth and knows many stories. He has watched Kingdoms fall, risen or watched communities band together and perish upon corruption in their system.

He used to join such a community, when he had his friend beside him, but ever since his friend had ascended. Philza was alone, once more, to roam this plane and simply ride the wave of this never ending changing of time. Soon, he found himself joining an arena, to simply fight. It paid him well, and it gave him something to do at least so Philza didn't mind...

Until they had grown bored of him. So they assigned Philza to keep guard at one of a nearby village that held criminals or elderly people. Philza didn't know why such a village was created to dispose of the elderly, he understood the criminal part but not the wise people. They could share knowledge and expand what the new generation could fix and change.

But... Phil was too tired. He just agreed, took his next pay and headed off. It would be peaceful, compared to the roars of cheering and adrenaline of fighting...but it'll give Philza time to reflect on what else he could do, maybe think of a new project? He could build something, it has been a while since he built something.

Philza was content at his new station, just having to watch over the people, help them when needed and just make sure the prisoners don't escape. It was peaceful and...not many bothered him, probably because they were too afraid to get close. Who would dare even approach the Angel of Death himself?

A certain gentle soul did.

"Hi!" A voice greeted, and Philza paused as he looked up from his journal, which he was writing in to jot down his project ideas. He was greeted by the sight of silver eyes that reminded Philza of the stars, and long black hair that gently smoothed out over the man's face. It was like Philza was staring at space itself...

"Hello" Philza greeted in return, as he eyed the man who beamed at Philza's greeting. "...Sorry, I didn't realize there was someone else assigned here"

"Oh! Oh no no, pues, si- No wait- I'm not.... Okay! I'm just more or less a caretaker! I'm helping my friend Roier take care of his abuelo!" The man said, obviously stammering through his words and mixing it with other phrases that Philza couldn't fully understand. He knew it was Spanish, a common language around here, but he never did have the chance to actually teach himself about it. He has heard of Roier...so at least the man wasn't lying, at least.

"My name is Missa!" Missa finally said, clearly embarrassed.

Missa?

...

Oh.

Philza tilted his head, his eyes lighting up slightly. "Oh, you're the new recent grim reaper sent by ...the other deity of Death" He said. Missa faintly smiled at Philza's words and nodded. "That's me!" He said.

"What brings you here then? Is Roier's...abu...uel..abuelo?" Philza slowly said, trying to pronounce "abuelo" correctly. "Is he ..."

"No! Nono! He's not dying, well, not yet at least. No, I'm just here to help a friend and to visit you!"

"visit...me?"

"Ahh...qué pena... Haha, I've... I've been watching you, or well, following you for a bit. I've... I've been seeing your fights in the...arena" Missa admitted, his voice slightly high pitch as he awkwardly looked around to hide his face that was turning purple. He didn't dare look at Philza in the eyes, in fact, Missa shuffled in his satchel that he had and pulled a skeleton mask on.

Philza slowly blinked, his eyes slightly widened in surprise at the sudden confession from Missa. "...Well, mate, I don't... Thank you?" He said, quietly chuckling as he watched Missa shuffle around awkwardly.

Missa let out a squeak, when he suddenly lost some balance due to a hole in the dirt trail, almost tripping over it. Philza faintly smiled, as he looked at his journal.

...Maybe having company wasn't so bad. Missa seemed blunt, found his...strength incredible and he was a grim reaper, someone who would not ascend nor die so easily.

"...So you find me strong?" Philza asked, and Missa paused. He glanced over at his shoulder to look at Philza and slowly nodded. "..Yes..?"

"Marry me then.."

"QUÉ?!"

Philza suddenly took Missa's hands in his own hands, not giving the poor skeleton a chance to even pull away. He had an determined glint in his eyes. A glint that Missa was familiar with when he saw those arena fights, the way Philza fought and moved, moving like he was dancing and how he smiled when he won a battle.

"You find me strong, you know of me. I can provide whatever it is you need" Philza said, as Missa's face turned more alarmingly purple.

"esperate!! ESPERATE! We just started talking—!" Missa quickly said, trying to bust the whole situation down right now.

"I'll be your strength, but should you refuse me...I will still like to court you regardless" Philza casually replied.

"OKAY!" Missa shrieked, as he tried to pull his hands away and cover his face, he knew that his skeleton mask would do nothing now to hide his purple face. He jolted when he heard Roier's whistle behind him, and he whirled around to yell at his friend.

Philza blinked and softly smiled. He was going to enjoy learning about Missa...

It was no surprise, but Missa wanted Philza to relax. He wanted to be the one to provide everything for Philza, while Philza continued to do his own hobbies like sculpting, fighting or working on his projects. In fact, because of this, Philza was able to lighten up the village a bit more and figure out which soil was more suitable to start a farm on. It wasn't ideal how far the farm would be, but Missa didn't mind as long as Philza was resting.

In fact, Missa slowly started to bring materials for Philza to sculpt with. Materials that Philza knew what it stood for... to make a child.

Death related creatures couldn't create life so easily, it was a long process.

They needed materials. This varies on what's around them, in their environment. Things that Philza can sculpt, cut down or change to make sure that the materials fitted correctly together and slowly the materials started to mold and change that resembles an egg.

When that process is finished, Philza and Missa would need to stay together with the newly created egg to infuse their magic to the egg. It was simple, yet the process takes a while because it never guarantees that it'll work the first time. Philza and Missa have never done this before, so they didn't really expect this to work on their first try.

But when the egg started to move..

Philza and Missa knew that this little egg is a fighter, a strong willed one.

..Chayanne was his name.

[huramuna]

a maid's folly - chapter 6.

dark aemond x maid ofc minor aemond x floris baratheon work is 18+, minors do not interact, lest ye be smited.

previous | next

summary: a new maid from the Vale arrives at the Red Keep during a tumultuous time and becomes ensnared in the One-Eyed prince's web.

word count: 3.7k

girl.... it took a bit to get here but i hope its worth it - please let me know what you think

warnings: smut (details below cut), power imbalance, religious guilt, dark Aemond, canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, Aemond being a touch starved weirdo, possessiveness, jealousy, this is going to be ANGSTY

oh to be in love - kate bush • mary on a cross - ghost

chapter specific warnings: violence, blood, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, virginity loss, biting

The next few weeks were good ones for Rosemary– the best ones since her mother passed. She fell into a quick companionship with Helaena, accepting her oddities as fun quirks, rather than bits of madness that everyone else seemed to discount them as.

Helaena was smarter than people gave her credit for. She was witty with a great sense of humor, often poking fun at courtiers and other denizens of the castle. She had a lot of inside knowledge on the gossip and going-ons of the Keep, as people weren't afraid to speak openly while she was in earshot, citing her as daft and not paying attention.

Rosemary and Helaena sat shoulder to shoulder on the settee near the window. It was open, a crisp breeze tousling their hair. 

The princess had promoted Rosemary to her handmaiden, thus upgrading her wardrobe significantly. They matched now, as Rosemary wore light blue dresses, her hair down in a braid. Helaena usually leaned towards cooler colors, like flushed blues and light purples. 

“I've heard that Floris is pitching a fit over the flowers chosen for the wedding,” Helaena chattered, pricking a needle into the fabric stretched over an embroidery hoop-- she was working on a depiction of a blue carpenter bee, “Mother told me she cried when the florist brought in white tulips instead of yellow.”

Rosemary snorted a small giggle, her hands tangled in Helaena's hair, defting the tresses into intricate braids, “And how has your brother taken all of this?”

Helaena was privy to Aemond and Rosemary's 'situation', whatever it may be– it was ill-defined at the moment. The corners of her eyes crinkled into a grin, “He is running Vhagar ragged with how much he flies her. Mother said that when Floris began to weep, he slipped out of the hall and was gone for four hours.”

“Yes, that sounds about right.” the maid hummed. 

The weeks with Helaena had also proven fruitful for Aemond and Rosemary’s interactions– they were still few and far between, with Aemond expressing more restraint than he had before, but he visited Helaena’s chambers more often, citing brotherly love as his reasoning for his frequent social calls.

He entered that day as usual, his arms behind his back. His eye zeroed in on Rosemary, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly. She wasn’t wearing her formless maid’s dresses any longer, as Helaena had her tailored for a few higher end pieces for her. They hugged her curves in the right places with a sweeping décolletage, exposing just the hinting swell of her chest, the light blue complimenting her complexion.

He had been visiting more lately, but the past few days had been taken up with frivolous wedding planning, and half a dozen flights on Vhagar. 

“Brother, you’re staring.” Helaena murmured.

He became all too aware of his surroundings, his mouth slightly dry and his clothes all too tight. It took him a moment to regain his stoic self, “I am merely trying to see what you’re embroidering, dear sister,” he walked forward, nodding his head to Rosemary, “My lady.” he mustered a greeting.

“Your grace,” she hummed in response, tying off Helaena’s braids with a small leather cord, “Would you like for me to braid yours as well?” she said it ever so innocently, but she was goading him. They were in each other’s proximity more often than not lately, with Rosemary often watching him spar in the courtyard from the spectator’s eaves They had developed a back and forth banter— he tested her limits with his witty remarks, and she teased him endlessly until she was all but sure that he would need to relieve himself later. It was a fun game, their little verbal spars, but Rosemary wondered when it would become reality. A man could only be teased so long. 

Aemond cleared his throat, “That won’t be necessary,” he glanced at her for a moment, his pupil blown wide. She knew she had him, hook, line and sinker. 

“Rosemary, weren’t you going to go to the market today?” Helaena redirected the conversation, “I know you had a few things to pick up.” 

The maid perked up, “Oh, yes— hm, I should get started now so mayhaps I’ll make it home before dark,” she squeezed Helaena’s shoulder affectionately, the princess leaning into her touch, “I will see you this evening, my lady,” she got up, smoothing out her dress, curtsying before Aemond, “My prince.” 

“Hm.” he grunted, letting her walk past him. 

She made a quick stop to her room, donning a cape jacket, her hands tying a ribboned, wide-brimmed sun hat to her head. Looping a bag around her shoulder, she set out to the corridors. 

Rosemary walked with purpose, reciting her list, “Lavender oil, honey cakes, lilac and blue thread, rock salt, goat’s milk…” she had her head down, navigating the halls absentmindedly. She brushed shoulders with someone, caught off guard by an anguished gasp. 

Stopping, she looked to see who she bumped, “My apologies,” Rosemary murmured, seeing that it was… Floris Baratheon. She recognized her from passing through Maegor’s Holdfast going to and from Helaena’s chambers, “My lady.” 

Floris scoffed, “Yes, well, watch where you are going,” she looked Rosemary up and down, a flicker of something akin to recognition passing through her eye, “Ah, you’re the princess’ handmaiden, are you not?” 

“Yes, my lady.” 

“I see,” she clicked her tongue, seemingly mulling over something in her head, “Where are you heading in such a hurry, then?”

“I have to pick up a few things from the markets, my lady— I wish to get back before it gets dark.” 

Floris blinked slowly, her hands coming together, “Ah. The markets,” she repeated, “Enjoy your errands.” 

Rosemary curtsied hurriedly, walking away. She had already wasted enough time dawdling. 

The trip down to the market square was fairly uneventful— she managed to get lost once or thrice, still unfamiliar with the layout of the city; she had only visited through it once before arriving at the Keep. 

She haggled with her fair share of merchants and most definitely overpaid for most things. It was a wonder that she managed to somehow haggle up the price. 

The last thing she retrieved was the goat’s milk— it wasn’t to be drinken, but to be added to her and Helaena’s baths. Rosemary had fond memories of her mother drawing her a hot bath and pouring flower oils and goat or sheep’s milk into it, along with the chipped pieces of rock salt. It left her feeling soft and fresh and she wished to experience it once again. 

The sun was beginning to set over the horizon. Helaena warned Rosemary to not be in King’s Landing at night and to always come back before the sun set. 

Rosemary gnawed at her bottom lip as she tried to retrace her steps. She could see the Red Keep up on the hill, but when she tried to navigate there, she ended up being cut off by dead ends, empty alleys, and paths looming with unsavory characters. 

She felt the bubble of panic rising in her chest, her thumb nail sinking into the soft of her palm. Her lip began to bleed from her incessant biting upon it in her anxiety driven state. 

Turning down another alley, she was met with a dead end again. Tears pricked at her eyes, feeling frustrated and helpless— how idiotic could she be to get lost? She could see the Keep but couldn’t reach it. 

Moving to retreat from the alley, she saw a hooded figure at the end of it, awaiting her. Her heart instantly jumped into her stomach and she froze. The dying light of the sun glinted off of something in its hand— a weapon. 

The tears came in full force now as she dropped her bag, backing up further against the wall. The figure descended upon her, brandishing a knife. It was a man, stocky and older. His breath smelled of decay and rot— he was hissing at her, like some kind of animal. 

Rosemary put her arms up to shield against the first swing, she had seen Aemond do something similar in his training sessions with Ser Criston– of course, he was a seasoned swordsman and usually swathed off an attack with a weapon, so this method was nowhere near as effective as he made it look— it ripped through the fabric of her dress, slicing against her arms. She whimpered in pain but shoved forward against him, knocking him off his balance. He kept up his garbled hissing, as if he was trying to say something. 

“Take my bag— the money is in there, just l-leave me be!” Rosemary cried, kicking the bag towards him. 

The man couldn’t look less interested as he regained his footing, coming in again for the second time. This attempt was fruitful as he knocked Rosemary to the ground— he was on top of her, slicing wildly, his mouth agape. He had no tongue. She tried to keep her arms up to stop him from hitting anything vital, the blade cutting through her skin like ribbons. She cried in pain, kicking and screaming, her blood trickling down onto her face, her dress.

Her life flashed before her eyes— her mother, Jeyne, Helaena, the children— Aemond. 

Suddenly, the man was dead weight against her and the dangerous edge of a sword poked through the front of his skull, mere inches from Rosemary’s face. 

It all felt like a haze, a blur. Was she already dead? She felt so cold, the rivulets of blood flowing across her skin feeling like shards of ice. Her vision closed and blackened around her. 

The weight of the man was kicked off of her and then she was scooped up— she was no longer cold, but warm. She was warm, like in a goat’s milk and lavender oil bath, the steamy water enveloping her like a second skin. She had to be dead, surely. 

“Rosemary,” a voice, familiar, murmured, “Stay awake. Fucking hell, I shouldn’t of let you go alone.” 

She glanced up, her vision still muddied and red— her own blood had dripped into her eyes, stinging. But she realized who was holding her, the flash of a single violet eye burning through her. Aemond.

“Ae… mond,” she whispered. 

“Don’t speak,” he grunted, “Just… stay awake, okay?” 

She didn’t know how long it was until the air around her turned from the flowing outdoor air, to a dank and almost tepid air. It was dark now, flashes of torches dancing in her eyes. 

Then she was set down— on something soft. It smelled like sandalwood and smoke. A bed. Aemond’s bed. 

He sat next to her, bandaging her arms, “You did good putting your arms up,” he said, wrapping the soft, spongy cloth material taut around the worst of her wounds, “Where did you learn that?”

Rosemary blinked, “… been watching you spar… recently,” she responded softly, “I might’ve… picked up a thing or two.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. It made her chest feel aflutter. “Hm,” he mused, “I never saw you there but once.”

“I was hiding… didn’t wish to distract you.” 

Aemond snorted then, rolling his eye, “Chin up,” his hand softly lifted up her head as he wiped a damp, lukewarm cloth over her face, cleansing the blood from her skin. 

“How did you know?”

He made a small noise of discontentment, “You were bound to find yourself in trouble. I saw you overpay for all of your items today, far above market price,” he looked away for a moment, “I can’t say I expected this to happen. But it… was good I was there, I suppose.” the cloth eased over her eyes, helping her sight come back into focus. 

She blinked profusely a few times, tears gathering at her waterline– not just from the irritation, but emotion. “... I don’t know what to say…”

Aemond put the cloth aside, “Usually, this is where one says ‘thank you’,” he chided, citing her taunt at him from a few weeks earlier, “How is the pain?”

Twisting her arms, she sucked in a breath of pain, “... hurts.” 

“It will for a while and will likely scar. But, better a scar than your life,” he hummed, his hand flexing and relaxing absentmindedly, “I’ll bring you a salve for them so they won’t mar your skin as terribly.” his hand reached for hers, turning her palm up. He was gentle, his skin warm.

“... thank you,” she murmured, closing his hand between both of hers, wincing at bit at the movement. “I don’t understand… he didn’t want my money or items– he was actively trying to kill me. To just kill me.”

Aemond looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, his mouth wrought into a thin line, “King’s Landing is a dangerous place– the Red Keep even more so. I… will try to figure out what it was– mayhaps a purposeful attack.”

“Purposeful? Why would anyone want to kill me?” 

“You are the princess’ handmaiden– you have eyes and ears into a lot of affairs in the Keep and perhaps you overheard something you shouldn’t have,” he let go of her hands for a moment, but not before rasping his thumb over her knuckles. He then began to pace. “Have you heard anything odd lately? Some conversation you shouldn’t have been privy to?”

Rosemary only now just saw how distraught Aemond looked– his hair was down completely, the leather tie used to pull it back to the nape of his neck gone, likely broken off. His hands were stained with blood, her blood, and the blood of her would-be killer. He looked a bit flushed, pacing back and forth like a caged animal, his footfalls heavy and filled with emotion– not like his usual silent, detached movements. 

“Aemond,” she murmured. He didn’t stop his pacing, muttering to himself, “Aemond. Aemond!” she raised her voice slightly, causing his head to snap towards her. “Please– we can worry about it all later, just… come here.”

He looked perplexed by her tone and loudness, but walked over anyway.

 In turn, she reached over and took an extra dampened cloth, holding out her hand, “Let me help.” she asked.

He sat down next to her on the bed, the mattress dipping under him. He bobbed his knee incessantly as Rosemary took his hands and washed them of the grime and blood. His jaw was clenched, his muscles taut as if he wanted to spring into action or mayhaps run out of the room.

“Relax,” she grumbled, “I should be the one nervous, not you.”

“I am nervous– you… you were almost killed. I was almost too late, Rosemary,” he spoke, his voice breaking from its usual even tone into something soft and more raw, “What the fuck would we have done if you were… slaughtered by some ingrate? Helaena and the children– they would be heartbroken,” he took in a sharp breath, “... I would be… devastated as well.”

Rosemary stowed away the cloth, her hands not once leaving his. Slowly and cautiously, she intertwined their fingers. It was an intimate gesture, something soft and soothing. She could feel her heart catch in her throat, her ears burning. “Well, you weren’t too late, were you?” she whispered, her voice almost silent. She glanced up at him, those big brown eyes of hers piercing a hole right through him, right into his soul. 

Untangling one hand from hers, his hand came beneath her chin, tilting it upward. “I might’ve burned this whole fucking city down if I was,” he murmured, leaning forward. They were so close, their lips ghosting over one another.

She felt the heat rise in her stomach, feelings jittering around against her ribcage like some of Helaena’s butterflies. Her eyes flicked to his lips, then back to his eye– she inhaled as she leaned in– and in turn, he did as well.

Their lips met– it was soft but intense all at once, the butterflies in her chest breaking free in a cacophony of emotion. It was chaste at first, their lips melding together like two puzzle pieces– before her lips parted slightly and she tilted forward more, her free hand coming up to his chest, but wavering. “C-can I touch you?” she asked, her words pressed against his mouth.

“Please– please touch me,” he practically pleaded, “I’ve waited so long.” 

Her hand slid up his chest slowly, her brow knitting in discomfort as her wounds pressed against the bandages. 

He took note of this, placing her hands on his hips and a likely more comfortable position for her. 

She hummed contentedly as she leaned farther into him, her lips parting once more to accommodate his tongue slipping into her mouth. She needed more of him, pressing as close as she could. She wanted to crawl inside of his ribcage and live there. It was something of comfort.

“Lay down,” he said, breaking their intimate closeness for just a moment, earning a disappointed whimper from her. “I need to taste you.”

Rosemary swallowed heavily, nodding slowly. “I’ve– I’ve never… done this before,” she breathed, “I’m still a maiden.” she scooted back to lay on the soft pillows, looking down. Her dress was a torn mess.

“All the reason to go slow, little lamb,” he responded in turn, edging up the skirt of her dress, “Tell me to stop if you need to.”

Biting her lip, she nodded. The feather light touch of his hand on her leg made her shiver, a coil of warm settling in her core. 

His hands, calloused and rough as they were, felt like smooth silk as they glided up her leg, bunching up her dress at her stomach. His fingers traced the stretch marks on her hips and thighs as if to commit them to memory. Aemond’s fingers hooked under her undergarments and slid them off– a wet strip of arousal prominently painted down the center of them. Grinning, he stowed them away in his pocket, “Hmm,” he hummed, using both hands to part her legs as if it were some great feat, like mounting a dragon or swinging a sword for the first time. “Beautiful.”

Rosemary felt her face go red as she looked down at him, his head between her legs. “Please.” she murmured, almost too quiet to hear.

She didn’t need to beg, not this time at least– he fulfilled her wish, licking a strip from the bottom of her parted folds up to her aching pearl, causing her to whimper. He was slow at first, eeking out every little sound he could out of her before beginning to feast, his tongue ringing circles around her sensitive bud, his hands gripping her thighs like he was a man staved, and she was his last meal before death.

Rosemary clutched the sheets, wanting to snap her legs close, but his strong grip kept them open– thank the Gods for that– the warmed coil inside of her slowly eking into a smolder. ‘A-Aemond, ah–” her first orgasm ripped through her like a bolt of lightning, her toes curling. Her legs wrapped around him as she clenched around nothing, whimpering his name like it was a prayer.

“That’s it,” he purred, “Bleating like a lamb for me– so soft, like I knew you’d be.”

She panted heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her death grip on his head weakened slightly, allowing him to slip from between her legs for just a moment. 

“Let's get this dress off, hm? I want to see all of you.”

“If you undress, too– I won’t be the only one naked,” she grumbled.

He happily obliged, stripping his doublet and trousers and kicking them away, all too eager to get her out of her dress. His fingers deftly undid the buttons, slipping it off of her. A hand palmed one of her heavy breasts, rubbing a nipple between his fore and middle finger. 

“Eyepatch,” she mewled between tiny moans, “Take it off.”

He was a bit more hesitant here– his thumb hooking under the strap. Pausing for a moment, he looked to Rosemary once more. 

She was disheveled, her face flushed red, her hair coming out of her braid and flowing behind her in pale blonde tresses. Her eyes were half-lidded, lips parted ever so slightly. She wanted him, she wanted all of him– it was evident.

Foregoing any more doubt, he discarded the eyepatch, revealing his sapphire implant. 

Her half lidded eyes grew into large saucers, her breath hitching in her throat. Rosemary didn’t say anything else, giving a hum of contentment before pulling him back onto the bed for another kiss. 

“Beautiful,” she cooed between kisses.

It was enough to make Aemond blush– hiding his bashfulness by slipping his tongue back into her mouth, palming his cock in his fist. He swiped the head against her folds, gathering the slick and slowly sliding it in. 

“Gods above,” he grit his teeth, “Fucking tight.” his lips pressed against her neck, he buried himself to the hilt in her, waiting for her approval.

“F-full,” she whimpered, needing a moment to adjust to his size and the overall new sensation, before she nodded for him to proceed.

He moved slowly again, starting at a measured, deliberate pace, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. 

Soon enough, she relaxed into his rocking motions, beginning to enjoy it. His pace increased as he left red marks on her neck, sucking and bruising the delicate skin there. He wanted to be gentle– but he was still a dragon, and dragons were wholly possessive. 

The room was filled with the sounds of her soft whimpering moans and his grunts– the symphony of skin slapping against skin. 

Aemond clenched, feeling the tell-tale sensation that he was close, “F-fuck,” he groaned against her skin, teeth biting into her now, “My lamb– my pretty lamb– you should be my fucking wife. You’re mine, mine, m– fuck–” he stilled his movements as he spilled inside of her, his fingers gripping her hips like soft putty. 

She clenched around him, feeling the warmth of his exertions spread through her. Sweat beaded at her forehead and chest as her hummingbird heart slowed down finally. 

He didn’t pull out yet– rather, he wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest, laying on his back now.

“Stay with me tonight– please. I wish to wake up next to you, if only this once.” he murmured, holding her close against his chest in his all encompassing hold.

“Of course, my dragon.”

taglist: @watercolorskyy @queen--kenobi @heartb8k2 @violetiss3lfish @toodlesxcuddles

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter three

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: trying to keep to frequent posts, especially because of that cliffhanger! Also keep in mind that I am 10000% making up 1) police procedure and 2) anything to do with journalism. I know nothing about these things other than what I've seen in movies. But who cares, it's fiction!

Series Masterlist

word count: 3.2k

She gasped.

And every head–four of them, all men–turned to look at her.

Instincts kicked in and y/n immediately shoved her phone into her pocket so as not to lose it and turned to flee. 

Only to smack into something a lot like a brick wall. 

She stumbled back, fear kicking her heart into high gear. She hadn’t even run yet and her breaths were quick, panicked. She was almost literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

Before her was a towering figure cloaked in shadows and some sort of armor. He was menacing, dark, huge. Her throat went dry as he took a single, heavy step forward. Half of his face was covered by a mask that made her think of a black skull with two sharp points at the top. She didn’t notice the split second of shock on his face when he first laid eyes on her. 

The Batman. 

It shamed her to admit that she whimpered. Her body was in the thick of fight or flight, but there were men with guns behind her and a demon of a man before her. She had nowhere to flee. Despite what the waitress had told her not ten minutes earlier, she was afraid. 

But Batman stepped to the side, his focus now on the men behind her, and said in a voice made of gravel and smoke, “Run.” 

Y/n ran. 

She ran until her lungs threatened to burst, until her knees wanted to give out, until all of her muscles were screaming, until her chocolate chip pancakes threatened to come back up. She took several turns and doubled back to make sure she hadn’t been followed. 

Then she stumbled inside the blessedly safe lobby of Wayne Tower. 

The security guard looked up in alarm. 

“Call the police,” she gasped. “Tell them–” She bent over, hands on her knees, and tried to get her racing heart under control. “–Tell them I witnessed a murder.” She glanced back at the doors. “Lock everything up. I’ll be upstairs.” 

The guard called after her–a young guy she didn’t recognize, someone who must be new from the past three years–but she ignored him. She heard the dial tone of the lobby phone as the elevator doors slid shut. 

It wasn’t until she was out of the elevator and stumbling towards a concerned looking Alfred that she relaxed marginally. Despite the late hour, he was still impeccably dressed, as if he hadn’t ever gone to bed. 

“Y/n?” he asked with a frown. The foyer was warm. Safe. Something in her loosened a little. “Security called up–” 

“Um, I just witnessed a murder,” she said. She was in shock, or something close, because the words simply tumbled out of her. The disbelief on Alfred’s face mirrored what she was feeling now that the fear was leaving. “I had to run–that Batman guy was there and since he was distracting them I just–I needed to be safe and this was closest–” 

Alfred wrapped her in a tight hug. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” 

She shook her head. Her body trembled. 

And then she remembered, all over again, that her grandmother was dead and that she wouldn’t be getting the comfort she wanted the most. Alfred wasn’t even the next best thing, though it was good enough. 

A small sound escaped. 

“Alright, dear, I’m going to get the family lawyers on the phone. The police will meet us here to get your statement.” He squeezed her once more. 

“Lawyers?” she asked, the word making her nervous all over again. “I can’t afford–” 

“You’re family. And it’s just in case, love. They’ll offer legal advice and make sure nothing untoward happens with the officers interviewing you.” 

She pulled away and wiped her damp eyes. “Okay. That’s–Where’s Bruce?” 

Alfred hesitated. It was only for a moment, but long enough that she noticed. “Let’s not bother him unless absolutely necessary.” 

Something sharp pierced her chest. Meaning, Bruce probably didn’t even care that she’d almost died. Tears welled in her eyes all over again, but didn’t fall. 

Alfred patted her shoulder. “Stay here and we’ll meet the police together when they arrive. I’ll be right back.” 

It only took ten minutes. Alfred had the lawyers on speakerphone and Bruce still hadn’t bothered to show himself. 

The four of them–her, Alfred, a uniformed officer, and a detective–sat in the formal living room that no one ever used. It was dust-free, though, which was a testament to her grandmother’s work ethic. 

Her throat tightened again at the thought. 

“Y/n, this is Officer Martinez and Lieutenant Gordon,” Alfred said. “We’ve worked with them before and I believe them to be trustworthy. Gordon helped with the bombing last year.” 

She started, recognizing the name. The fire that had just gotten her in trouble rekindled again, ever so slightly. She stared at the man seated in front of her. “You’re Batman’s best friend, huh?” 

Gordon blinked. Then a corner of his mouth turned up. “Maybe not best friend, but we do work together. Why don’t you walk us through what happened?” Not the most subtle subject change, but she had more important things to get through before digging into the vigilante. 

So she did. She kept it short, sweet, and to the point as if she were reporting on it instead of reliving it. It helped create enough distance that she didn’t freak out again. 

“And you’re a friend of Mr. Wayne’s?” Gordon asked when she was finished. “Girlfriend?” 

Her face heated. Alfred’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t see what–” 

She waved him off. She was nothing to Bruce Wayne, so she didn’t care about answering, or even why he was asking. “We grew up together. My grandmother–Dory–was the head housekeeper for the Waynes until she passed a few days ago. I came for her funeral. And for my mother’s.” 

Gordon simply nodded, as if he already knew the information. “Where is Mr. Wayne?” 

Alfred’s eyes narrowed even further. “In bed. He wasn’t feeling well, so I didn’t see a need to bother him.” 

“And the video? Did you delete it?” Gordon brushed past Bruce’s absence as if it didn’t mean anything. And to him, it didn’t. But for y/n, it meant everything. It meant that Bruce didn’t care. That she wasn’t important enough for him to wake up, to get out of bed. She hoped it didn’t show on her face, the minor devastation as the feeling sank in. 

“No, I have it here. I can send it directly to you, or to multiple–”

“We’ll need the entire phone, actually, to ensure that nothing was tampered with.” 

A tiny portion of her panic was back. Her entire phone? For how long? She looked to Alfred pleadingly. 

But the lawyer–she’d already forgotten his name–was already on top of it. “We’ll need it in writing that the phone will be returned in a timely manner and in the same condition. And that there will be no perusal of personal files. I have a draft already sent to Mr. Pennyworth to print for signatures.” 

Gordon sighed but nodded without argument. Was this what privilege felt like? Her life in close proximity to the Wayne fortune had afforded a few luxuries–like help with college tuition, Bruce giving her one of his “old cars”, things like that–but she had never needed to have lawyers on retainer. As close as she’d been with Bruce, sometimes his wealth still caught her by surprise. 

Alfred disappeared down the hallway to print the documents, chatting with the lawyer the whole way. 

Y/n studied the two officers in the ensuing silence. Officer Martinez hadn’t said a word. He was busy looking around the room in slack-jawed awe and barely seemed to listen to what they were saying. She glanced around, trying to see from his eyes. The room was grand, but it was also easy to tell the house had lost some of its former grandeur. 

She glanced back at the officer. He was young, probably her age or maybe younger, with a thin mustache that didn’t make him look as old as he thought. He caught her looking at him and grinned sheepishly. 

Gordon, on the other hand, stared right at her. She liked him, she realized. Her gut was rarely wrong on these things, but she knew better than to rely too much on that. It helped that he seemed steady, no nonsense. And apparently forward-thinking, because he worked with a vigilante on a regular basis. 

There was that fire again. She silently cursed it even as she asked, “Would you be open to doing an interview about the Batman? I’m a reporter in Bludhaven and–” 

Gordon’s phone rang out, shrill in the quiet room, interrupting her. “We’re best friends because he trusts me,” he said wryly, then stood to take the call as Alfred came back with the legal papers in hand. 

“Damn. Only one?” Gordon said quietly, but they were all listening. “Alright. I’m with the witness now.” A pause. “Yeah. Yeah. Talk later.” He hung up and turned back to them. 

“That was him, wasn’t it?” y/n asked. She wasn’t sure how she knew–investigative instincts, maybe. He had tried to hide the phone call, his body language shifting, even his voice. And he was familiar with whoever was on the other end of the call. 

Gordon gave her a look. “Yes,” he said without needing to clarify who she meant. “I have officers on the scene now, but one of the suspects escaped. Do you think you could identify them?”

She thought back to the moment they had all turned to her. There had been a streetlight at the end of the alley, the light filtering through from behind her. She might be able to identify them, especially with the help of the video. She hadn’t put her phone away until after they had turned, frozen in fright as she was. 

“I could try,” she said truthfully. 

“Alright, let me sign these papers and get over to the crime scene. We’ll be in touch and get your phone back to you as soon as possible. I would suggest protective custody, but I think you’re probably in the safest place in the city.” He scrawled a signature over the papers. Y/n wondered if the bombing the year before had involved any legal paperwork. An NDA maybe, since officers had been in the “inner sanctum” as she’d jokingly called it during their teenage years.

“We’ll add more security,” Alfred said as he showed the officers out a minute later. “Please keep us updated on any developments.” 

When they were gone, y/n slumped against the wall. “Fuck,” she said as she rubbed her tired eyes. The antique clock in the corner told her it was after two in the morning. 

“My sentiments exactly,” Alfred said. He had shed the professional facade as soon as the elevator doors closed. “I’ve already posted extra security downstairs and in the parking garage. Our camera and alarm systems will be updated tomorrow. The private elevators are on lockdown and employee identities will be triple checked for the offices below.” 

She nodded, though she wasn’t sure it made her feel better. One man had escaped both a vigilante and the cops, and they had all seen her face. It was only a matter of time before they figured out who she was–Wayne Tower going on lockdown was odd enough and it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out the cause. Her relation to Bruce Wayne had never been a secret. In fact, it had been an oft-discussed topic of every gossip magazine in the city and a few outside of it. 

She hoped the man who had escaped was on the run instead of the vengeful type. 

But her instincts told her that wasn’t the case.

She realized she hadn’t responded to Alfred. “I’m…going to bed. Thank you, Alfred.” 

He squeezed her arm gently and bid her goodnight. 

Y/n didn’t go to bed. Instead, she spent the next three hours scouring the internet for news on the Batman and printing out every article that seemed relevant. To what, she didn’t know yet. Those instincts that got her in trouble and created some of her best work in equal measure were whispering in her ear. 

She finally succumbed to exhaustion right as the city outside started to lighten. 

When she woke sometime later–long enough for her back to go stiff–she was on top of all of the papers she had printed. 

“Ugh,” she said as she peeled an article from her cheek. She was still in the same clothes she’d gone out in the night before. She went to check her phone before remembering that the police had it. She opened her laptop and used that to check the time (nearly noon) and email her editor for an extended leave of absence. She briefly explained the situation without giving too many details and then asked for a temporary assignment to the Gotham Tribune. 

There was a story here, and she was in the middle of it. It was an investigative reporter’s dream: to have unlimited access to a key witness who was willing to cooperate. 

Might as well make the most out of an extremely shitty situation. 

She showered, changed, and shuffled into the study when she heard the rustle of Alfred’s newspaper over light classical music. 

“Good mor–uh, afternoon?” she said as she took a seat across from him at the giant monogrammed table. 

“I’d ask if you slept well, but I think the answer is obvious after the night you had.” Alfred glanced up from the paper and smiled over the top of his glasses. “I’ve kept out some fresh fruit and coffee for you.” 

She took some of both and settled in. She half-expected to hear her grandmother puttering into the room with a mop or a tray of sandwiches for lunch. Tears pricked her eyes when she realized that reality was gone forever. 

“Thank you, by the way,” she said around a mouthful of grapes. “For…everything last night. And this week.” 

“Of course, dear,” Alfred said, his light accent a comfort. He was the only constant in her life anymore, and she appreciated it more than she could say. 

The silence stretched as she thought about how awful her luck had been in the past week. She stood and walked to one of the arched windows. The city was bustling down below, like it always was. She leaned her head against the cold glass and watched her breath create fog. Autumn had its claws in the city fully now, and it was only a matter of time before winter sank in its icy teeth next. 

“Detective Gordon called. He thinks your phone will be released by tomorrow morning. They just need to document everything to make sure there’s no evidence tampering.” Alfred said as she watched the city. She noticed a small bubble of space around the tower where private security were deflecting pedestrians and double-checking employee identities. 

“That’s good,” she said absently. “I asked for an extended leave from work. I figure I probably…shouldn’t do much else until that guy is caught.” 

“Probably a good idea,” Alfred agreed. Another rustle as he turned the page of the paper.  “Gordon’s a very good cop. I’m sure he’ll get one in custody to tell him where the last one is, and this will all be over before you know it.” 

She turned away from the window and smiled wryly. “That eager to be rid of me already?” 

Alfred rolled his eyes but didn’t answer. 

Her heart twinged painfully. She was sure it was Bruce who wanted her gone, not Alfred. 

Speak of the devil, she thought as the man in her thoughts materialized at the top of the stairs. He was tugging a shirt over his head and damn it her eyes caught on the flash of bare skin of his abdomen. Her entire body flushed from the split second view. Since when did Bruce have abs? He’d always been more scrawny than anything, but all that had changed sometime in the past few years. 

Bruce looked as tired as she felt. His eyes were almost bruised, the circles were so dark. His hair was damp and his shoulders curved inwards as if bowed by exhaustion. 

Alfred looked up from his paper with raised brows. He glanced between them, folded the paper, and got up to leave. 

“Fresh fruit and coffee there,” he said softly to Bruce on the way out.

That bastard, she thought at Alfred’s back. He was purposefully leaving them alone. 

Bruce finally looked up and blinked slowly at her. Apparently, he hadn’t noticed that Alfred wasn’t alone. 

She didn’t mean to speak. In fact, she’d decided to completely ignore him. But the words sprang forth anyway. “I hope you’re feeling better.” Her voice was cold. It was obvious she didn’t mean it. 

Bruce froze. “Uh.” 

“Alfred didn’t think you’d care about me almost getting murdered so we let you sleep.” She bit her tongue as soon as the words were out and winced. He could have been really sick, for all she knew, but here she was assuming he was just being an asshole. 

Bruce shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know until this morning.” The words were so unexpected her back bumped the cold glass of the window. Bruce Wayne, apologizing to her? It wasn’t an apology for three years ago, that much she knew, but it was still…something. 

“Sorry, I–I’m just…tired. Overwhelmed. I shouldn’t have snapped.” 

Bruce continued to stare at her. Used to, she would know what he was thinking from only a glance. But that was before. Now she had no idea what was happening behind his crystalline eyes. She noticed again how different he was. The baggy clothes couldn’t hide his new bulk. And he looked so tired, more so than he ever had before, even in college. Even after the deaths of his parents. What could possibly be keeping Bruce Wayne awake every night? Or maybe it was simply proof he had been sick after all. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, brushing off her apology. “Were you hurt?” His voice sounded deeper too. It was like he’d gone through a second puberty or something. The muscles, the voice, even the way he held himself. He had changed so much, and she had missed it. 

It sickened her how much she clung to his attention, to his concern, even though it was only him being a decent human. God, she missed him. 

“No, I wasn’t hurt. That bat guy stepped in and gave me a chance to run.” 

Bruce’s eyes flickered up, away, and back in quick succession. A nervous tick if she ever saw one. But why? Did he feel bad about what had happened to her? Or was he waiting for his chance to escape her presence? 

“Heard he helped find the Riddler guy last year. The one who tried to kill you.” She knew she should shut her mouth, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t just switch off part of who she was. “Ever met him in person?” Her voice slipped slightly lower into what her grandmother used to call her “professional voice.” 

She saw it happen–the hardening, the distancing. Bruce went from at least semi-open with her to entirely closed and walled off. That much she could recognize. 

“No,” he said. He went to walk away, the lines of his body rigid, but paused. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said over his shoulder. 

She wondered if it was true.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @slovakshadow @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic

(no idea why some tags aren't working, sorry!)

[witchofthemidlands]

i know, i know realistically that because tales of the tardis is making it's return that “the one who waits” or whatever “the big bad” is that shall be giving the doctor & UNIT grief in the finale will probably be that villain from the pyramid serial that was, in fact, the first proper classic who serial i ever saw because it was on the sarah jane adventures dvd but up until the new tales of the tardis instalment was announced, i was so deep in the theory that this is all leading up to the trickster's greatest comeback of all time: ruby is an element of the pantheon & seeing as i've clowned too close to the sun i'm unleashing the insanity that's been occurring in my brain since “the devil's chord”

so basically the doctor said 8 words about maestro & i haven't been sane since.

“that thing must be part of the pantheon”

that was it for me then, i was CONVINCED that this might be leading up to have something to do with the trickster because in “the wedding of sarah jane smith” the doctor & the trickster/the pantheon talk about how they heard about one another through legend:

& from the spreading of the salt this era of doctor who has been all about myths & legends breaking their way through into the universe & the first half of the finale is titled “the legend of ruby sunday”

THEN maestro attacked ruby & the music played from within ruby is VERY similar to the score played in “whatever happened to sarah jane smith” when sarah jane was giving maria the puzzle box which protected her (& then later alan) from the trickster's power & this was the first time the trickster ever came into the whonivese & whilst i thought i was reaching here, i was CLEARLY not the only one who thought that the score progression sounded similar.

https://youtu.be/ARVTQ91P5RE?si=_TD41qhQ_PbQ-8kp

after “the devil's chord” i didn't want to say anything because i thought i was going to sound absolutely crackers but it was simmering, the thoughts that whatever ruby is COULD be connected to the trickster or the pantheon. honestly even if it turns out to be nothing to do with the trickster themself but just another element of the pantheon that's at play & what everything is leading up to, i'd consider that a win.

the full downward spiral into madness began after i witnessed the horror that was “73 yards” which both scared me for life & after like no doctor who episode has done in a VERY long time because not only was i actually scared of ruby sunday & was thinking WHAT IS THIS BEING but it also unleashed this:

deep down, my rational brain KNOWS it's not what my unhinged brain thought it were but in fact what it literally was which was a story filled with elements of welsh folklore BUT my brain said:

to my brain, “73 yards” reminded me of the doctor in “turn left” saying:

and whilst i was in my post 73 yards state of horror/being genuinely afraid of what ruby was there's was two options my brain was throwing out:

1) ruby could be one of the pantheon/the trickster’s brigade she's one of the changelings like the time beetle because life WAS changed in tiny little ways & this was literally probably one of ruby's worst case scenario: that everyone would leave & she'd be alone all her life & her fears manifested in her potential trickster/changeling power & made a whole new reality for her that she enabled herself to stop. it was all just her & the extent of her powers which could be used for very bad.

2) and this is the one that i latched onto like a person deranged:

ruby is a creation of the trickster, the trickster is “the one who waits” because the trickster has been “waiting” for a way to break into the universe & then i just went wild with this theory of mine because of the sarah jane adventures.

in the (devastating) final season of the sarah jane adventures, sky smith was left on the doorstep of sarah jane's house when she was a baby, similarly to how ruby is left on the threshold of the church on ruby road. now that's a reach, yes but HAD the sarah jane adventures series 5 finished the way it was intended to be finished, sky smith would have turned out to be the trickster's child in an finale called “the battle of bannerman road” & her trickster powers would have been awakened by the trickster. sarah jane would apparently have been considering this to be true because she'd gotten jo jones to research “trickster myths” sky would have returned to herself but would have evolved into an entity that would banish the trickster from reality & guard him in a prison forever:

The Battle of Bannerman Road (unproduced TV story) | Tardis | Fandom

honestly i started to imagine that a similar situation could happen with ruby because this story was ultimately never made & whilst i am probably clowning to the highest degree here, i thought about jo & clyde's segment of “tales of the tardis” & how clyde's story is left open ended as if it could possibly be continued & what better way to continue clyde & rani's story then to bring them back during a potential battle with the trickster? there is also the fact that the other unnamed episodes of the sarah jane adventures WERE actually made into stories for a fantastic show called “wizards vs aliens” specifically, “the thirteenth floor”

so perhaps rtd could be using the bare bones of “the battle of bannerman road” for the conclusion to the mystery of ruby sunday.

as i said, i went rather deranged with this one & it's probably going to be the greatest comeback for sutekh, who will probably turn out to be “the one who waits” possibly the head of the pantheon & the creator of ruby but my brain has decided to throw one more twist:

✨sutekh x the trickster✨

i'm kinda glad that this will all be over soon so i can be proved wrong & can enjoy a peaceful state of mind again, finally set free from my trickster theory 😅

[avianyuh]

NCT reaction to you thinking you're fat; Johnny

So, Johnny loves clothes. He went to the freaking Met Gala! He loves to buy new pieces, take pictures in them, keep up with the trends. But when he met you, he considered it an absolute win since now he could not only buy new clothes for himself, but you also.

Whether he was on tour or back at home with you, he'd either pick something up for you if he went out, or bring something home for you on tour that he knew you'd like.

But what he loved most of all was taking you shopping with him. And for the most part, you enjoyed it. At least up until now.

You had went to a family reunion earlier that day, without Johnny because he had to work that day. You were excited to see everyone since your family was quite extended and it had been a few years since everyone had been in the same room.

You had been talking to one of your relatives when your uncle had come up to you. He had tapped on your shoulder, so you turned around and greeted him.

Now for reference, you had been feeling pretty good about yourself that day, not self-conscience in the slightest. You had on a pair of jeans and a black, long sleeve sweater that was on the tighter side, but that was by design.

As you caught your uncle up on your life, he let out the nastiest, back handed compliment you had ever heard.

"You must be living it up since you've put on so much weight since the last time I saw you!", he said as he laughed at his own cruel joke.

You didn't know how to respond to that. In response all you did was clear your throat and excuse yourself. He waved you off as you made a b-line for the bathroom.

The minute you shut the door you let the tears fall. You leaned over the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror. You stood up straight and started analyzing every inch of your body. You squished your cheeks together, then you pinched your underarms. You backed up, leaning against the bathroom wall so you could look at your whole frame. You looked at the way your sweater hugged your body. You studied your stomach. All you could hear was his comment and it hurt. Now 'fat' was all you could see and hear about yourself.

When you got home, Johnny greeted you at the door with a hug and kiss. As the two of you sat down to eat dinner, he unsurprisingly was eager to know how your family reunion had went. So, you gave him some unimportant updates on cousins, in laws, other family drama. The whole time, your mind was on auto-pilot, wondering if you should tell him about what your uncle had said to you. And in the end you decided to be honest with him.

"Actually, something kind of embarrassing happened. Remember that creepy uncle? He came up to me and started asking how I've been. Didn't think anything of it, but then he said that I had gained a lot of weight", After you finished, you sort of regretted telling him, you were afraid that he would now see you as fat.

"What's wrong with people. You don't believe him right?", Johnny questioned as he pulled you onto his lap. Though you were loving the contact with him, you stayed silent. You weren't going to lie. "Y/n? You're not fat. You're healthy, you're happy and you're beautiful. And even if you did gain weight it wouldn't change a thing." You tried to conceal your tears, but he noticed them and swiped one away with his thumb.

You sat up on his lap and hugged him tight, whispering a soft "I love you", in his ear.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Just wanted to say thank you so, so much for writing Fate's Favourite. I actually found and loved your blog before I ever found that fanfic, and it was a delight to know it was written by you, and it's so clear how you've improved. But Fate's Favourite will always have a part of my heart, because it's the first story I've read that just has a platonic friendship that feels as equal as a romantic one without being romantic? And as a lonely aroace that means everything. EVERYTHING. (1/2)

(2/2) I had a conversation today that reminded me that I'm never going to have the queerplatonic relationship I want that I've always wanted since I was a child, and how it makes me want to write one so much more, but then I've never managed to write the story I've wanted to write my entire life because I'd always be afraid of being accused of queerbaiting or people just going, 'but it's actually just a gay romance this isn't what friendship looks like' and just. Thank you for Fate's Favourite.

--

Wow. FF is a blast from the past!

You are very welcome.

Apologies for the long, self-indulgent reply.

That story was one of the first things I ever properly wrote and my first (maybe second?) truly long-form story ever. I thus have a soft spot for it, even though in terms of craft and technique I can't so much as look at it without seeing all my numerous beginner flaws and cringing and can't bring myself to actually point people to it. Much improvement since then, as you say!

(An excellent reminder that writing is a learned skill.)

Anyway. The other interesting thing about that story is that I wrote it before I'd ever heard of asexuality or realised that was what I was. I was a very confused teenager being bombarded with this pressure to have crushes and date people and all that general societal messaging we have about romance being the most important thing ever. Especially in YA.

So I'd go home after school and write that story.

Obviously it's more unhealthy than what I'd want for myself in my real life, but the sheer intensity of feeling and importance of the platonic main relationship was something I had also never seen before but craved. And still crave, honestly. So I feel ya.

As for queerbaiting...

A lot of readers at the time told me they viewed the story as 'pre-romance'. AKA, it's a romantic relationship and they haven't realised it yet for whatever reason. They mostly didn't mean that badly, I don't think.

(Although I sometimes think though that if the term 'queerbaiting' was as broadly known and misused then as it is now that I would have been mercilessly lambasted out of ever writing again! And I wouldn't have known how to articulate the fact that wasn't, actually, what I was doing. I think we need to be kind to new writers. I think 'content creator' is gutting something vital in the ecosystem. But that's another rabbit hole.)

So I've been there. It happens. But other people's bad takes didn't change the story and what it meant to me as a lonely ace teenager or what it meant to you.

I have had readers before make a similar comment to you about how it was the first time they got to see something so important to their heart portrayed.

That matters so much more than whatever people say about your writing who don't need it.

Which is why we have to keep writing the stories.

Even if it's clumsy and raw. Even if it's the first thing you've ever tried. Even if it's (especially if) it's a messed up fantasy straight from the most primal part of your brain.

If we don't write it, it won't exist.

And that's so much worse.

The nay-sayers can come to the party, but it wasn't thrown in their honour.

[waves-against-a-cliff]

For you dear, anything. yandere!konig x reader

Warnings - stalking, murder, encouraging murder, manipulation, sex, oral (fem receiving), praising, google translated german. My shitty, low blood sugar writing. Fem reader

Song suggestion - Me and The Devil

Summary - You weren't ever afraid of Kong, even after he became obsessed with you.

You could feel his eyes on you, piercing through the crowd to watch you slip between people. He couldn't see your smirk however, as you turned down an empty alleyway, trying to lure him out to you. He's been watching you ever since you joined KorTac and he still thinks you haven't noticed. That you haven't noticed how he is always willing to spar with you to get a grab at you, to always take first watch when you're on a mission with him, how he gets a hungry look in his eyes when he sees you working out. He didn't know that you've been watching him at the same time, granted you never followed him home. Just knew a lot about him, about how he stole your second favourite sports bra.

Slipping further into the dark and slightly damp alleyway, you heard his footsteps, light at they may be for such a large man. Turning around at a break neck pace, you lock eyes with his blue ones giving him a sweet smile. "König? What a surprise!" You say, walking closer to him and wrapping your arms around him. Only you could hug him like this. "How have you been?"

"Bußgeld, fine. I've been fine." He says, melting a little into your embrace and holding back a whimper as you pulled away from him. "What are you doing outside of base today?" He asked, his fingers twitched at his side, he wanted to touch your hair so badly.

You sigh, putting on a sad look, moving your gaze to the left wall. "Oh, I wanted to get away from someone." Watching from your side gaze as he stiffened, watching his insecurities take hold for just a second.

"Who is it?" He asks, his voice nearly a growl when he thought about anyone making you uncomfortable, of him making you uncomfortable.

"This new recruit." You muttered, "He's been flirting with me, I would really like it if he stopped." You look at him with your doe eyes, tears threatening spill over. "He's just been so pushy, König." You whimper, moving closer to him, pressing you head against his chest. "I'm scared he might do something drastic.

"Oh Liebling, is there anything I can do?" He asks, wrapping his arms around your smaller form.

"You're more respected then me, higher rank. Could you get him transferred? Get rid of him?" You begged, carefully introducing the idea of him killing for you. He nodded and you moved away a bit, grabbing his gloved hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. "Thank you."

You walked off, noticing he did not follow. A malicious smirk grew on your face as you walked up to your actual destination, a convenience store. When you finally returned to base, you immediately sought out König, who stood in his room. Running his bloodied and muddy hands in the sink, knocking twice. "Its me." You called out, "I'm coming in." Feeling the panic run through his veins as you walked in and laid eyes on his bloodied figure. His shoes had blood splatters on them and you could see the blood on his mask.

Feeling arousal shoot straight down to your core, you cooed, "König, did you do it?" He swallowed, finding it hard to lock eyes with you and nodded. His fingers clenched and unclenched, taking his hands in yours you smiled and pressed a kiss to them. "Let me properly thank you, mein Bär."

Leading him to the bed, pushing him to sit down on it. You shot him a smirk, pulling your casual shirt off. Watching his eyes widen, "No, no. No need for that." He quickly said but made no move to stop you.

"Then why did you take my bra, Bär?" You asked, watching him shudder from the way you rolled his new nickname off you tongue. You watched him stutter as you pulled both your shirt and bra over your head, "That's what I thought." Pressing a hand to his chest, pushing his back onto the bed. Stradling his lap, you felt his hard cock under your core. "So hard for me." You cooed.

Pushing your pants off, you palmed him through his boxers. "Liebling, w-wait." He huffed, "Let me taste you." He begged, grabbing your plush thighs and pulling you forward. Pulling off his hood and pushing up the mask beneath you caught a glimpse at his face. Funny, you were just as obsessed with him without even getting to see his face, you thought as he pulled your core closer to his hot mouth. Settling you down onto his face, he began to work at your cunt. Tongue flattening against your clit, you gasped out at the shock that went through his body. Holding you to your place, he began to ravage you. Drinking up each drop of slick as it dripped out of your clenching and unclenching cunt. Whimpers and moans tumbling out your mouth as you gripped his strawberry blonde locks.

Feeling his tongue slip into your dripping hole, feeling the muscle explore the cavern that quivered around him. "König, I'm gonna-" You gasp out, feeling his grip tighten and bruise your thighs, only getting a growl as a vocal response as he continued his onslaught. Waves of pleasure rolling over you until you felt the knot in your stomach snap. Nirvana appeared behind your eyelids as he kept drinking you up. "König let me fuck you." You begged, "My strong bear, let me reward your loyalty."

Pulling away from his mouth, he grinned at you, your wetness shining in the dim lighting of the room. Pulling down his pants, his cock sprang free from the hold the boxers had on it, feeling drool appear in your mouth. Giving it one large lick from the base to the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum in your mouth. Getting on top of him, you positioned the tip of his fat dick at your entrance. Pushing down him, the slick acting as natural lube to help ease him down. Your walls burned at the large intrusion but you kept going until he bottomed out in you. Gasping, you grabbing his thighs as he gripped your hips. Whimpering when you rolled your hips a little, a smirk growing on your face.

Picking up the pace, he groaned out your name. His already tight grip on your hips became bruising as he lifted you off his cock slightly before slamming up into you. "Liebling, mien Gott. You feel so good." He praised, his hips lifting up to meet yours. His tip consistently hitting your cervix, making you bend over him, hands on either side of him as you lifted your hips to his rhythm.

"König, I'm close. Please." You begged, struggling to keep up with his brutal pace. You felt his hot mouth against your shoulder and cried out when he bit down on it. Feeling the blood leak from the wounded as he lapped it up as you came for the second time, hands white-knuckling the sheets. "Cum in me König, be my good boy and cum inside me."

Snarling at your pleas, he continued to rut into you as you lazily moved your hips with him. He tensed up, mumbling your praise in german as his rutting became sloppy as he filled you with his hot seed. Collapsing beside him, breathless you looked at him. "Thank you."

"For you dear, anything." He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. "Now lets get you cleaned up."

@simonrileyscockring

[barcaluvv]

But I wanted it to be you 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑖 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ʳᵉᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵛᵒᵗᵉ! ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ :)

You and Gavi been friends for a while, or so you thought, even though you've been in love with him for two years, in love with his walk, his beautiful eyes that change color in the sunlight, they change like my behavior when he's around, but actually no one knew that , just like no one knew how to get your attention like he did. Until one noght, when everything changed. It was an evening game, and you, as an employee of this club, had no idea that Xavi would put him on the bench, on the bench next to you. You thought to yourself that you would even pretend to be this bench for free just to be in his presence. His presence felt like a new start, even though you just glanced at him a few times and when he needed water you would bring him the best one you had. He would always compliment your hard work, it's like he did that on purpose. Zoning out, thinking about him,staring into his soul looking straight into his eyes, "Am I that interesting to you huh?" he leans closer leaving you with a smirk on his face. You couldn't get the words out of your mouth, before you said anything he went to the dressing room, you heard Hector who was there the whole time, laughing loudly. You were so pissed but you kept on with the night. After the game all the players left the locker room but gavi he didn't, oh no, when you tried to leave you noticed something i s off putting your hand on the metal doorknob, you were sure that all the doors were locked, the lights were off and on the locker it said, enjoy the night i hope u get enough of eachother, thats what you get when you can't focus on the game gavi" Hector oh god i knew it. I tore the paper quickly before gavi could even see it. At the end of the night, you were sitting alone, on the bench, covered with a big blanket, trying not to panick. When he noticed that you had a seizure, he came closer to you and said "Hey, it's okay, don't be afraid" he pat your hair. Your body shivered, it felt like a bump of water was splashing down your head, he removed your hands out of your face, e was wiping the tears from your red cheeks. You looked up at him, feeling your heartbeat getting more intense, for each breath you inhale, and calmer as you exhale. Saying the sentence you have never imagined you would ever say, especially to Pablo, twirling your fingers from the cold locker you were already leaning on, the words came out. "I love you, I have loved you since the day we met, since our eyes accomplished the contact that I've been craving for to happen, I know I sound dumb and you probably don't like me but I can't hold it in me anymore and I hope you understand that. Even if the distance between your heart and mine is seventeen inches yet somehow, the sun feels closer to me in this moment than you do. You never knew my birthday, you never asked me about my favourite colour, I don't even think you know any small details about me or the things I enjoyed doing. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 was long at that age I couldn't leave, and I will wait for you, no matter what. He pulled you into a hug, he kissed your hand aggressively, whispering "I love you too", you felt his lips talking on your shoulder. Feeling our veins compared next to eachother, as we both fall asleep with our hands crossed around eachothers matching jerseys.

[hussyknee]

Just found out that the baby baked in an oven thing Zionists accused Hamas of doing is actually something Zionists themselves did during the Deir Yassin massacre of 1948. And the fetus cut out of the pregnant woman's womb is something that was done in the massacre of the Sabra and Shatila refugee camps by Lebanese militants in concert with Zionists. We already know that they rape women and children in detention. I think the only other huge fucking lie about Oct 7th was the beheaded babies, and I'm legitimately afraid of learning whether or not that was also just something Zionists themselves did at one point.

I mean it's not even improbable because this type of unfathomable cruelty is par for the course with genociders, that only happen when the dominant group has so much disproportionate power in the region that there is only mindless hatred and perfect impunity. (The Brits used to use native infants as crocodile bait.) The reports of IOF ripping babies from their mothers arms, shooting them dead, throwing them aside and dragging the mothers off in front of witnesses were numerous even before this. I've also heard reports of young parents being dragged off and abandoning their toddlers and infants on the roadsides (saw a video of it and I'm going to be haunted to my grave). So those premature babies being left to die of starvation at the hospital was shocking but only surprising because there were so many eyes on the situation due to the efforts of the aid workers and journalists. We thought that Western governments wouldn't pull this shit with the whole world watching. As it turned out, the only reason the last twenty-odd premature babies at Al Shifa Hospital survived was because the director of the place refused to leave them until they were safely shipped off to Egypt (unaccompanied, God knows if the parents will ever get them back. Egyptian governments refused to let the few critically injured people allowed safe passage by the US to go through without visas and passports so they died in the ambulances). Then the IOF kidnapped the director right afterwards. He's still missing.

The organ harvesting thing is also true btw. We've been talking about it ever since they made off with those dead bodies at Al Shifa Hospital. Whether they were going to use them to stage their own propaganda, harvest their organs and skin, or just did it to deprive their families of giving them a burial. Probably all three.

I'm so tired of you people refusing to pay any attention to the news streaming out of Gaza via their own citizen journalists and Al Jazeera and Quds News and families of activists and then accusing us of spreading conspiracy theories! "There's so much misinformation" just say you don't trust Palestinians to tell the truth about their own genocide with your whole chest. Say that your charges of antisemitism is about how much you fear Black people and Muslims. Say that you don't reblog calls for the Jewish community to interrogate their whiteness and their enmeshing with Zionism over the decades because you feel like "it's not your place" to amplify Black and brown people challenging whiteness. Say that you shut us down and police our language about Zionists because you're philosemites who believe Jews could never be as genocidal and bloodthirsty as every other group on the world given the same power. Say that you still don't think Zionists are "as bad as" Nazis because they haven't murdered enough people yet.

I'll take the Zionists cheering over the deaths of people we're mourning over all the hidden polite lethal racism you're hiding under your white liberal tongues. I can't take this death by a thousand cuts shit anymore. Seriously why are you scrolling past? You think we aren't talking about you?

[gardenerian]

oops i 🕺🏼 did it again 🕺🏼

hey WHOOPS turns out it's hospital time again 💅🏻 almost three years to the day since the last time, too, we love a cyclical moment 💅🏻 in three years time we'll see if i've ever learned anything ever in my goofy little life 💅🏻

i'm not sure sure how many of you were here for the last hurrah, but i think at the time i went on this whole spiel about no shame, asking for help, taking time, etc? and - yeah, i still think that. no shame, let's do this (well. lots of shame, actually, but hey ho we move along).

but this time has its own set of circumstances and its own new set of complications. and this time meant depriving myself of just about everything. including you, including everything we made together.

so before i dive back into groups, vitals, and pants without strings, here's what i've been thinking:

i hate that i let this happen. i hate that i watched the joy dry up; i hate that i just accepted the new normal as everything i love became a source of stress and guilt and shame. i hate that i was so afraid of doing things wrong or letting things change that i stopped doing them at all.

i never anticipated that i would let my own personality be squashed down to make room for this extra disorder??? one's enough, thanks.

i can't really make any promises right now - who can in recovery? but i can at least say wow. hey. i am sorry. to you and to me! and i can say that, in all the ways that matter, i'm gonna try. to be present, to be intentional. to give myself (and this time) some grace and, hopefully, some compassion.

so! while i relearn how to feed myself (yall ever heard about peanut butter? holy shit. effervescent.), just. idk. know that i love you. know that i think about you and the joy we share and the things we've built together. and it matters - all of it.

the next few weeks are gonna be WEIRD and idk how often i will be here, but god. this is the start! i want to get back. or at least find a new way to engage. i wanna make shit and hang out and be ridiculous. and i want to hear from you! i want to reconnect and reinvest and stumble around the dash like a newborn baby deer. if you'd like, dm me or find me on discord or on on my weird little personal blog (@beochaoineadh) and let's catch up 🍅

anyways! that's enough! let's get on with it! i love you!

[sissylittlefeather]

Hi, I'm dying to see new Elvis fanfic so here I am.

Prompt 5 with young Elvis and could you make both fluff and smut. My idea is that Elvis cums prematurely and he's embarrassed so reader reassures him.

Thanks!

Hey Anon! I'm sorry this took me so long. I wasn't able to write for a while, but I think I got my groove back. I hope you love this!

Prompt: "That was quick." With 50s Elvis

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie

You thought Elvis was cute even when you met him 3 days before your 13th birthday. You'd been close friends ever since, but you tried to never let on that you had a crush on him. He seemed to enjoy just talking to you and you let that be enough for you for years. Then, he started singing and playing shows all around the south. You didn't see each other nearly as often and you were finding it hard to ignore the fact that you missed him desperately.

Now, here you sit on the front steps of your parents' house in your favorite dress anxiously waiting for him to arrive. Finally, he pulls up in a shiny new Cadillac and jumps out to open the door for you. When he gets to you, he leans in and kisses your cheek, making your heart skip a beat.

"Hey, honey. Didja miss me?"

"Nah, I've been pretty busy myself. Where did this come from?" You lie and gesture to the car.

"Just bought it! Do ya like it?"

"It sure is pretty." You say as he opens the door and you slide onto the seat. He runs around and gets in the driver's seat. You ride along quietly for a while as he talks about what it's like to play shows and the people he meets on the road. When he gets to a stoplight, he pauses and looks over at you.

"Y'know, speakin' of pretty. You look really nice, tonight." You snap your head over and look at him as he gazes at you. He's never called you pretty before.

"Thank you..."

"No, I'm serious. Have you always been this pretty, darlin'? And I just didn't notice?" The light turns green and he turns back to look at the road. You're not sure how to answer him, so you settle on playful teasing.

"I've always been a pretty girl, Elvis. It's not my fault you're the last one to figure it out." You say with a grin.

"Oh? I'm the last one? You got a buncha fellas chasin' ya around these days?" He tries to say it jokingly, but there's an edge to his voice. Is he jealous?

"Well, not a bunch, but a few." You don't care about any of them, but he doesn't need to know that. You say it really to gauge how he'll respond.

He turns to look at you and he's not smiling anymore. Instead, he grits his teeth and pulls off the road to a clearing that looks out over the town. Once the car is parked, he turns to look at you again.

"I-I-I'm sorry, honey. I guess I'm just protective of you, is all."

"I don't need you to protect me. I'm a big girl, Elvis." Your cheeks flush.

"Yeah, I noticed!" He grabs the steering wheel and grips it tightly. "That's what I'm tryin' to tell ya." He turns back to you. Your heart is pounding and you're breathing so fast that there's no way he can't see it. His eyes flick down to your lips and it feels like you might just die right there on his front seat. You've wanted him to want you for so long.

"I missed you like crazy, y/n. I didn't even realize how much you meant to me until I couldn't talk to you every day. You're all I think about. Talking to you, being around you, kissing you..." When he says the last part, he leans in close to you and presses his soft lips on yours. After a few seconds, you pull back a bit.

"I lied earlier, when I said I didn't miss you. I miss you every minute of every day." You whisper and look down, afraid of what he might say next. He puts his hand under your chin and tips your face up to look him in the eye.

"You are everything to me, y/n. Will you let me love you? As more than a friend?" It's like a dream come true and you're only half sure you heard him right.

"You... you want me?" He smiles and chuckles lightly.

"With my whole heart, baby." He moves his hand to the side of your face and kisses you deeply on the mouth, parting your lips with his own and letting his tongue slip into your mouth. You feel your warm center get even warmer as he kisses you. As the passion overcomes you both, he lays you back on the seat and slides his hand up under your skirt. In the heat of the moment, you forget that as a lady you should tell him no, and instead let him grab your panties and pull them down. He runs his hand up the inside of your thigh and pushes one finger into you. You stop kissing him just long enough to moan at the sensation. He smiles with his nose still touching yours and adds a second finger, continuing to push into your wetness.

"Oh, Elvis." You moan into his mouth, catching your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Honey, I've wanted to see you like this for so long. Will ya... will ya let me make love to you?" He watches your face carefully for a sign that you want to say no. But you nod frantically.

"Please." He smiles again and sits up. You sit up too and your hands go straight to the buttons on his pants. You can see his hardness pressing against the fabric and you need to see him entirely, need to feel him inside you. Once his cock is free, you pull your skirt up and straddle him, sinking down onto him slowly. He groans as you take each inch of him inside you. Then, he grabs the back of your neck and pulls your mouth down to him, kissing you passionately as you begin to move on him. When you switch to grinding against him, pushing him deeper inside you, he pulls back from the kiss suddenly, a look of panic in his eyes.

"Oh, fuck, baby, no- I-I-" Before either of you can do anything else, though, he comes inside you, hard, and sets his head on your shoulder.

"That was quick." You laugh lightly as he groans.

"Shit, I'm sorry." He still has his face buried on your shoulder in embarrassment. "I-I-I've just wanted ya for so long. I couldn't control it... I-"

"Elvis. It's okay. That's not the only time we're gonna do this." He pops his head up off your shoulder and looks you in the eyes.

"It's not?"

"Oh, honey. I've loved you since I was 12. You think I'm gonna give up that easily?" He laughs and wraps his arms around your waist.

"Give me an hour. We'll go to the diner or something. And then I'll show you I know how to do this right. I love you, baby." You nod and kiss him again. You'll give him a thousand chances. This is all you've ever wanted.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Enjoy!