#knitting is dangerous apparently?

[the-sn0wy-0wl]

.

[doubledyke]

thinkin about edd today

[skipppppy]

The life of Stanford Pines must be so bizarre from the perspective of a random townsperson who doesn’t know him. Imagine you live in a sleepy lumber town, where the most interesting thing you’ve heard this week is that a plot of land on the outskirts of the woods was sold and someone has started constructing a cabin on there.

You later learn by word of mouth that he’s a phd student doing some kind of long-term research project. You don’t see his face until one night he comes blasting down the street on a trail of destruction, eyes yellow and glazed over, trashing public property, inflicting gruesome injuries on himself, and laughing like he’s on an erratic, drug-fuelled bender. He then goes home and locks himself in his cabin again. This becomes a cycle; he stays isolated for weeks, then comes out once in a blue moon to wreak havoc and be a nuisance to the authorities.

Then one day it stops. He doesn’t come back out. The next time you see him he’s at a grocery store looking completely different to how you remember; his hair is grown out, he’s put on weight, his clothes are completely different and he’s stopped wearing glasses. Some townsfolk finally work up the nerve to talk to him and you learn that he invited them to his cabin on a tour. His home is apparently FULL of dangerous research equipment and the scientist, who had allegedly been very quiet and level-headed on the days he wasn’t having his “episodes,” has had a complete personality change, he’s loud and confident and less than honest and a little sleazy but a damn good salesman and entertainer.

He hosts tours out of his home for the next 30 years. Over time he’d changed it into a museum of sorts that sells overpriced knickknacks to unsuspecting tourists, but aside from his shady business practices he’s a well known member of his community. He changes up the exhibits every few months, brings his niece and nephew to stay one summer and they become town darlings, and even exposes a beloved public figure for running a spyware scheme.

One day you hear he got visited by the FBI. They start going round town asking about him. A week or so later he gets arrested. The town goes CRAZY theorising why but then there’s a massive earthquake and in the chaos of that you forget what happened to him. One minute you hear that the feds were surrounding his house and the next they’re all leaving like they forgot what they came for. Another week later he resurfaces and announces he’s going to run for Mayor, dominated the polls, wins the popular vote, but loses his position immediately due to an extensive criminal record.

Then there’s gossip that he completely changed his appearance again. He’s lost his fez and is walking around in a coat and cable knit turtleneck in the middle of the July heat. Then you hear from someone else that he looks the exact same and didn’t change anything. Then you see two identical men walking down the street, one matching the description you saw. People are BUZZING to know what happened and you eventually learn that the “new guy” was actually the same Scientist and the guy that had been running the museum was his twin brother who stole his identity after he went missing. Then the apocalypse happens

[loganhowlettshousewife]

i want everyone to know that i woke up at 2am and grabbed my phone and typed out the draft version of this, and then promptly fell back asleep. i literally could not remember a word of what i’d written when i woke up. anyway here’s the drabble that came to me in my dreams apparently.

-

logan falls for you, hard. and for once, he’s not afraid of it. he’s dangerous and always hurts those around him, directly or indirectly it doesn’t matter. he hates getting close to people just to watch them get hurt again and again, watch them start to resent him for the bloodshed that seems to follow wherever he goes.

but with you it’s different. you can heal, just like him. you get injured on a mission and the stab wound knits itself back together, the bullet hole closes. you don’t have a single scar on your body; someone who didn’t know any better would think you’d never been through any hardships.

he wakes from a nightmare, claws in your chest, and panics for a moment as he pulls them out, watching your shocked face. but your expression melts into a loving one in a moment, pain receding as quickly as it came, your hand reaching out to cup his face. 

“‘i’m okay,” you tell him, and it’s true. your pretty silk pajama top is ruined, but through the holes in the fabric he can see the smooth skin of your chest, unmarred. the blood remains, a reminder that he’s hurt you, but you just hold him tight until you fall back asleep. 

he watches you and wonders how he got so lucky, how there could be someone so perfectly suited for him. not just in your personality and appearance, because he’s fallen for many people in his two centuries of living, but someone he can’t ever hurt.

his biggest fear, suddenly made irrelevant.

the first time you have sex, you tell him to let go, not to worry, he can’t hurt you. the animal part of him yearns to claim you, violent and intense the way his nature wants him to be. and for once, he can.

he’s close, pounding into you harder, goaded on by your cries of his name. he leans down as if to kiss you but goes for your neck instead, canines sinking into the skin, breaking the surface and drawing blood. he pulls back, licking the blood off his lips, your blood, and that’s the final push you need. your orgasm hits you like a wave, and you clench around logan, who groans and thrusts into you one, two, three more times before coming.

it’s as he’s cleaning you up that he notices something strange. at first he’s confused, and then his stomach drops. you’re not healing. he wipes the remaining blood from your neck, as if when he moves the washcloth away it’ll be gone. it’s not.

you must see it on his face, because you giggle and say, “i wanna keep it. want everyone to know i’m yours.”

and fuck, that does something to him. he’s possessive of those he cares about, but it’s usually treated as an inconvenience, an annoyance. but you love it, you revel in his possessiveness.

“how are you- it’s not healing?” he’s still confused, but secretly pleased. 

“logan,” you whisper, “you know my healing is different from yours, right? i have the power to heal myself and others. it’s not automatic like yours, i can control it.”

he didn’t know that, actually, but he’s glad. because it’s just one more thing about you that makes you perfect in his eyes, more than perfect in fact. you’re choosing not to heal the mark he left on you, claiming you as his. you’re accepting it, accepting logan even with all his flaws and detriments.

you never heal any of the marks that logan gives you. no, those you wear with pride.

[athforskz]

I’ll Take Care of You - Han Jisung

Masterlist

Pairing: Han x reader (afab)

wc: ~2.1k

Type: fluff, smut, established relationship

Warnings: Exhaustion, stress, mention of collapse, cunninglingus, little bit of somnophilia (if you squint), aftercare.

a/n: Always remember to take a break when you need it!

Enjoy lovelies!

It had been such a tiring week. You were stretched thin mentally and physically, juggling constantly between school and work. Needless to say that your personal life has taken a nose dive. You barely had time to hang out with friends, visit with family, or see your boyfriend, Jisung. That one bothered you the most. No matter how many times you told him you felt bad for not spending time with him or turning down plans, he always said he understood. But you could tell it bothered him. The way he’d give you a small smile would tug at your heartstrings because you saw the slight disappointment and sadness behind his eyes. There had to be some way to make it up to him, but you didn’t have the brain capacity to worry about that now.

At the moment, you were stumbling your way off the train and walking back home from your job. You worked the second shift so it was currently about mid-evening. Your boss sent you home early on the account of your less than desirable performance. It wasn’t your fault you hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, nor the past few nights for that matter. You had pulled a couple all-nighters to finish projects or study for your degree. Okay, maybe it had been your fault for choosing to go back to school, but you just wanted to do your best.

You finally reached the front door to your apartment, fumbling and ultimately dropping your keys multiple times, mumbling out an explicative “…fuck.” Jisung was inside lowly listening to music when he heard the lock click. He was confused as you were the only other person with a key besides him, but you weren’t scheduled to be home for at least another six hours. Right?

Jisung’s face lit up as he saw you kick open the door and drop the bag from your shoulder onto the ground. You entered with a deep sigh.

“Jagiya! You’re home early?” He sprung from the couch to make his way over to greet you. All you could do was give a weak smile, leaning your head onto his chest when he pulled you into a hug and kissed your cheek.

“Something happen with work?” He asked you.

“Mhm kinda,” you responded shortly to avoid details. You didn’t want him to worry after all. Jisung placed his hands on your shoulders and pulled away slightly to look at you. He could see that the bags under your eyes had darkened and your appearance was overall a little disheveled. Your body shivered for no apparent reason as he took in your mein. He knew you only shivered like that when you were exhausted; a sign that you were dangerously close to collapsing.

“Honey, when is the last time you slept or ate something?” His eyebrows knitted in worry.

“I slept for a few minutes after I studied. As for food, can’t remember.” You answered truthfully. Maybe it was yesterday morning? His eyes had widened. A few minutes of sleep?! Don’t know the last time you had food?? His brain was already in overdrive as he led you to the couch to sit you down, then retreated to the kitchen. Jisung just needed to get you something quick for now, then he’d order you a full meal later.

Jisung returned from the kitchen not even a full minute later to find you half asleep on the sofa. He sat beside you opening up the breakfast bar he grabbed.

“Can you sit up for me please, honey? I just need you to eat this then I’ll help you get to bed, yeah?” He gently rubbed your thigh to wake you up. You groaned in response. “I know, but you gotta do this. C’mon sit up with me.” Jisung pulled your body towards his, your head slumping on his shoulder. He held the snack up to your lips and you took a bite before closing your eyes again and chewing. When you swallowed you opened your mouth again, effectively letting your boyfriend feed you. He’d occasionally kiss the crown of your head as you chewed, whispering a “Good job. You’re doing so well for me, jagi,” as encouragement.

Once you finished the light snack, Jisung lifted you from the couch and took you to the shared bathroom. He sat you down on the counter making sure you were pushed up far enough so if you swayed too far one way you wouldn’t fall off. Jisung’s main goal at the moment was to get you as relaxed as possible before putting you to bed. He knew you well enough to know that if he didn’t relax you, you’d only sleep a few minutes again, then force yourself to get up and study. If he was going to do this he had to do it right. Since being with you, he knew you loved doing a specific routine before going to bed to help you unwind. Sometimes he’d even do it with you just so you both had a little bit of time together.

Jisung opened the drawer pulling out a few items for your skincare regime. He lined up the products in order before turning to you and placing a soft fluffy headband over your head to keep your hair out of your face. He pulled out a matching one that you had bought for him a few months ago and put it on himself. You let out a tired giggle as he poked his own cheeks and bobbed his head around, the bow on his headband making him look like a bunny.

You automatically closed your eyes once he brought a makeup wipe close to your face. Gently wiping away most of it. He tossed the wipe in the trash before getting a warm washcloth and wetting your face with it, then did the same to his own. Jisung moved over to stand comfortably between your legs, giving a chaste kiss to your lips before applying your facial cleanser. He hummed a low tune as he massaged your skin.

“Babe, you know I can do this myself.” You quipped. All he did was place his pointer finger on your lips with a quiet “shh.” You decided not to say anything else, figuring he wouldn’t take no for an answer anyways. Besides, you were enjoying all the attention.

After each step he’d do for you he would do the same for himself too, right down to patting in your moisturizer just the way you always do it. You had no idea Jisung paid that close attention to your nighttime routine; it was comforting in a way.

“All done, my pretty.” He placed a hand under your chin bringing you closer until your lips connected. The kiss was soft, nothing too brash or overly needy, it was full of love and warmth. You pulled away first as you felt the need to yawn overcome your senses.

“Thanks, sweet cheeks.” You weakly smiled. He chuckled while wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you off of the counter and to the bedroom.

“…m’ tired, Sungie.” You complained while laying your head on his shoulder.

“I know, y/n, baby. I promise we’ll sleep in just a few. Need to get you out of these clothes first.”

Jisung sat you down on the bed as you slumped over. “C’mon, arms up.” He directed, and you did what he asked. He took your top off and unclipped the annoying bra that dug into your shoulders. Your breasts fell free and you breathed a sigh of relief. Next, he commanded you to lift your hips so he could easily slide off your pants. Now you were left in nothing but your underwear. A cool breeze from the open window hit your back. You shivered at the air, “too cold.” You whined. Your boyfriend was already on it as he grabbed one of his oversized hoodies. He helped you put it on before laying you back in the middle of the bed, making sure you were extra comfy and kissing your cheeks. Your eyes fluttered shut.

Right when you thought Jisung was going to snuggle up beside you, you felt his warm breath tickle your thighs and his hands on the hem of your panties.

“Sungie? What are-“

He hushed you before you could finish the question. He simply kissed your legs as he pulled the pesky cloth completely off. Jisung knew if he wanted you totally relaxed there was just one more step he needed to do.

He needed to make you cum.

And he’d gladly do it with his mouth.

It was no secret that Jisung was a munch, he was proud of it actually. Who wouldn’t be if someone constantly had their cake and got to eat it too? You were his cake and he’d find any excuse to eat you.

Jisung gazed at your already glistening heat taking in the sight and absolutely intoxicating scent of you. He ran a finger up and down your slit to gather the slick before bringing it to his mouth and licking it off. He moaned at your unique taste that he could never get tired of. Your sleepy face flushed in a deep blush as you watched your boyfriend’s actions.

“Just lay back and relax for me, jagi. I’ll take care of you.” His sultry voice graced your ears.

Almost simultaneously when your head hit the pillow his plush lips connected with your lower ones. Your back arched when his tongue pressed between your slit and licked up to tease at your clit. Jisung pulled away slightly while sucking before diving back into your core. A symphony of moans and whimpers escaped your throat and mixed with the obscene noises of him slurping, licking, and sucking your pussy.

Your body was so tired but still you reached down to grab your boyfriend’s hair with both hands, tugging slightly. He wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep you spread open for him. Free to continue his loving assault on your clit. So much of your sweetness was leaking out of your slit and mixing with his saliva to drip down onto the sheets, making an embarrassingly large wet spot just beneath your butt. Your whining became higher pitched as you neared your impending orgasm.

“Ah- Ji, so s’ close!!” You managed to warn him. The imaginary band in your lower belly nearly snapping. Jisung could tell you were close even without the warning by the way you pushed your pelvis closer and rolled your hips on his mouth. He pulled your hands from his hair and interlaced your fingers with his, your grip becoming tight as you held hands.

He then proceeded to dip his tongue into your entrance pumping it in and out of the clenching hole. That was enough to send you toppling over the edge. A silent scream came as your body shook violently once your orgasm overtook you and you came all over your boyfriend’s mouth.

Jisung slowly licked you clean, savoring the taste of your sweetness on his tastebuds. He kissed his way back up to your clit and gave it one final suck making your body jolt and a whimper leave your lips. When he finally looked up to your face he could see you had fallen asleep.

The intense orgasm must have knocked her out. He thought.

He had a sly look on his face, feeling proud of himself as he wiped the remainder of your slick off of his chin. Jisung moved up from his spot between your legs to lay behind you. He pulled you close and kissed your hair.

“Sleep well and sweet dreams, baby.” He whispered to you as he listened to your soft snores before drifting off to sleep himself.

Jisung’s plan worked perfectly. You had slept all throughout the night until the next morning. No interruptions. However, you did wake up in a slight panic.

“Holy shit! What time is it?!” You yelled as your eyes shot open. You tried to fumble your way out of bed but your boyfriend stopped you. Quickly pulling you back down by your hips and cradling your body.

“Jagiya, calm down. It’s Saturday, you have nowhere to be!” He laughed as you sighed in relief. “Our plan for today is to nap as much as possible and eat in between. I already ordered from your favorite breakfast spot. It should be here soon. How does that sound?” He punctuated with a kiss. Something so simple sounded so amazing.

“That sounds like the perfect day. Thank you, Sungie.”

And that’s just what you two did. If you weren’t sleeping, Jisung had food ready and waiting for you. He had done everything and more for you the rest of the day, much to your dismay. But you couldn’t lie, the Jisung princess treatment was definitely nice.

Likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

Taglist: @doitforbangchan / @jehhskz

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Crosshair's character in TBB honestly makes a lot of sense when looking back at CW. He and his brothers have such an implicit trust in each other (something we saw in "Into the Breach"). With the exception of Cody, Crosshair says "we don't usually work with regs." The Batch is literally Cross' ride or die and it's not surprising he expresses a sense of superiority in S1 of TBB. He literally spends all his time with his brothers who show off just as much as he does. And when Rex says to leave Cody in Kix's care, Crosshair voices his concern. From the very beginning, loyalty is something he highly values.

Every single time Crosshair opens his mouth and makes a rude comment, Wrecker always comes in to defend him. I can imagine Crosshair just getting so comfortable with making comments because he knows that his brothers will defend him. When he falls from the pipe on Skako Minor, Wrecker doesn't hesitate to jump after him. Cross also trusts Wrecker to not let him fall when they jump on to the Keeradaks.

Crosshair is also very quiet and observational. He's the first to notice danger and the one to hang back to be the lookout. The amount of faith his brothers have in his abilities probably means so much to him.

Now, imagine you're Crosshair in TBB S1. Your squad, who've been your ride or die since day 1, leaves you behind and you don't know why. That implicit trust that was once there is gone. That loyalty you once thought you had didn't matter apparently. But you still want them to come back because of how tight knit your bond used to be. Not defending his choices, but I bet that's what was going on inside his head.

[thicctails]

what do euclid and scalene think of stan and ford in your au? also your au is cool

That's a great question!

Short answer: Stan is their blatant favorite, and they're not really sure how to feel about their son's ex situationship but they're not overly fond of him.

Long answer:

At first, the two of them weren't quite sure of what to think of Stan. The twins were being sent to stay with him for the summer so their parents could scream at each other without having to worry about also feeding their children, but neither of them really knew too much about the man, aside from the fact that he'd been a brilliant researcher and lived in the middle of the woods.

Quickly, they discovered that, while he wasn't the most attentive guardian ever, he cared a great deal about the twins, and would show it in his own way, like keeping Mabel stocked up on yarn, or always making sure Dipper's cuts were cleaned. They decide that they like Stan, though Euclid does occasionally pull small, harmless pranks on him. It's been a while since he's gotten the chance to joke around, after all.

The portal incident almost makes them lose faith in him completely, they're terrified of something causing this dimension to burn, and they urge Mabel to shut the device down. The two of them worsen their injuries when they try and pull themselves into the third dimension when Mabel lets go of the button and floats towards the portal, but neither of them get fully out of the 2D plane by the time the portal fully activates. This leaves them very exposed and vulnerable to the figure that comes out of the portal.

Ford comes out of the portal angry and scared, having just gotten into a fight with a strangely panicked Bill. He's bleeding from a set of gouged claw wounds on his arm from where the demon tried to make him hold still, and he had to tear himself away when he saw the open portal. The sight that greets him is one that seems like a twisted nightmare brought to life, with his brother close to what looks like some strange, bootleg versions of Bill. Stan looks ecstatic to see him, but he's still kneeling near the... Things and oh God there are children down here-

Needless to say, Ford doesn't hesitate to raise his quantum destabilizer and bark at his twin to get himself and the children the hell away from the horrifying, half 2D/half 3D monsters that are lying on his basement floor.

To his dismay (but not surprise) Stan ignores him. Actually, he goes beyond ignoring him and actively puts himself in the line of fire. The children are quick to follow, with the young boy shoving the girl behind him as she asks Stan who he is.

A gopher man that Ford hadn't previously noticed faints when Stan tells them.

Apparently, those children are Ford's grand niece and nephew, and the primary colors from hell are their... Friends? Guardians? They certainly seem to be very protective of the children, because the second Ford approaches them, they bristle and make a sound that reminds Ford of tv static. Their resemblance to Bill is uncanny, and he wants to ask them about him, but he decides to hold off on it when the red one's remaining eye turns into a whirring mouth of teeth.

Euclid and Scalene do their best to keep the twins well away from Ford, fully agreeing with Stan that the man is dangerous. The conman is now firmly set in their good graces now that he saved their lives, and once their everything stops hurting and they learn that Ford plans to evict Stan at the end of the summer, they go out of their way to make things hard for Ford. Trying to use any technology? Nope, Euclid has decided that it will not be working today. Try to write in your journal? Scalene has taken the letters and arranged them into an image of a middle finger.

Unfortunately, Dipper still looks at Ford like he hung the stars and actively ignores the Cipher's warnings not to engage with him, Mabel still is trying to find a way to measure him so she can knit him a "Get Along" sweater, and Stan, despite his anger, still wants to reconnect with his brother.

Their favorite humans are obsessed with this scruffy owl man and it drives them nuts.

[thicc-ray-of-sunshine]

'Cypripedioideae'

-A practical lesson in botany

You tag along with Ford in search of an elusive bit of flora and find yourself in a sticky situation as nature takes you both for the ride of your life.

(it's the obligatory sex pollen fic) inspired specifically by this post from @chunkitakii

You were tired. The arches of your feet had started to ache, making the continuation of your hike rather uncomfortable. If you had known this would have turned into an an all day thing you would have at least worn your comfier boots. You stretched out your legs a little on your next step forward, trying to shake the strain from your poor ankles as you walked.

“Are you quite alright Darling?”

Observant as ever; Ford almost immediately caught on to your discomfort, brows knitting together in concern. You flashed a small smile his way and squeezed his right hand in gratitude.

“Yeah. Just a little tired, my feet are starting to hurt. Wish I wore my other boots.”

A small pout appeared on your face at the mention of your footwear that caused a soft chuckle to escape from Ford's lips.

“Yes they would have been more appropriate. Although I had not expected our outing to take this long so the fault is mine.”

His tone was measured and his apology sincere as he offered his hand back to yours to hold. You graciously accepted, bouncing up on your toes to peck his cheek affectionately. You could see the faint pink hue that rose to the apples of his cheeks and tickled the tips of his ears as he interlaced his fingers with yours. He really was too easy to fluster despite being so unruffled elsewhere.

His pace slowed substantially so he could comfortably walk with you. It was not completely uncommon for him to always be slightly ahead of you, his long legs making his strides a fair bit wider than your own. Typically though he liked to be next to you like he was now, being able to see you put his mind at ease when you were out in the woods like this. He liked being able to know exactly where you were in case if any danger were to arise. This was also the reason he chose to have you on his right; leaving his dominant hand free to be able to protect you from any potential threats that came your way. This way he could also still have a free hand for note taking while also being able to be as close to you as he pleased.

From what he had described to you what you were searching for was some type of slipper orchid. He had heard of it in passing from when he was dealing with some gnomes a short while back. Apparently it was something that generally they avoided so it was described to him as a precaution but when he pressed for answers he was met with a strong resistance. So of course here he was, scouting it out and putting his inquisitive nature to the test; ever so eager to find out just what made this flagrant piece of flora so off-putting.

It was odd you realized, to be chasing after a flower in the middle of fall. It wasn't typically the time for such a plant to be alive, forget actively blooming but you guess that was just another reason Ford was so enchanted. Although even if you didn't find it today it was still worth the trip. You always loved going on adventures with Ford, absolutely reveling in seeing him completely in his element. Big amber colored eyes focused and poised yet not at all hiding the excitement thrumming through his veins at the thought of discovering something new.

He was nothing if not analytical in his approach, left hand always alternating between holding his chin in thought and jotting down his findings and anything else he deemed important. Your favorite part was when he'd sketch things; every stroke of his pencil was thoughtful, almost reverent as he portrayed everything as accurately as he could. Sure science was his forte but truly he had a clear calling for art as well and you told him so often.

You were taken out of your reverie and your fond thoughts of Ford rather abruptly, Ford having put his left arm out in front of you to stop you. You observed quietly, waiting for him to explain the hold up. Silently he gestured to the leaf covered ground, towards the very edge of a small clearing in the trees. There you could see it, or at least what you assumed he was looking for. It's not like there were any other flowers around at the moment, forget orchids. You let him corral you closer so you could both get a better look at it. As soon as you got within a couple feet from it he did exactly what you expected him to do. He had a scientific process for cataloging his findings that he followed to a T.

He started by circling the plant, keeping a safe distance from it since he was still unaware of what in particular made it so dangerous. He meticulously viewed it from all angles, pausing to write in his field journal every few moments. You were more than content to watch the process, finding a fallen log not to far from where Ford was crouched to sit on. You patted the spot on the log next to you when he circled back around the plant again. He smiled at you, knowing how much you liked to watch him sketch.

“Come sit with me. I've got a good angle from here.”

Your voice was sweet as you beckoned him to your side, which he followed wordlessly. He was not even a little bit shocked that you had, in fact, captured the orchid at its best angle since you did always have an eye for such things. Just another thing he adored about you he mused as he got to work.

You huddled closer to him; the heat radiating off of his body too sweet of a temptation as your own began to feel the effects of the cooling temperature. He merely hummed in response as you laid your head on his shoulder, watching the quick scratches of his pencil against the paper as he brought the flower to life on the page. It really was masterful how he so elegantly captured the petals so delicately. It was a very pretty flower, odd in a way but nonetheless beautiful. There were three large petals protruding from a circular base; one large fan-like petal at the top of the flower and two smaller slender petals that curved outwards from the pistil. There was a large sac adjacent structure just below it, which from what you knew of this particular family of orchids was the ‘slipper’ and where they got their name from.

As Ford drew he told you about what he knew about it already through some preliminary research.

“It's a member of the ‘orchidaceae’ species, better known as ‘orchid’ which can be found in essentially every habitat with the exception of glaciers. Which is obvious.”

He paused for a moment to erase something before continuing both in his sketching and his lecture.

“I suspect that this is a member of the subfamily of ‘cypripedioideae.’ They're more commonly known as ‘slipper orchids’ or ‘lady’s slippers’ which you already know.”

Pointing his pencil in the direction of the orchid, he gestured to the ‘slipper’ part of it.

“That. Is the labellum. It's one of three types of petals on an orchid. The other two are the dorsal petal, which is the one protruding from the top of the orchid and then the lateral petals which are the ones coming out the sides.”

He continued to point out each individual part of the flower as he drew it. Labeling each part and creating a hyper realistic diagram for himself while you nodded along, smiling at the sound of his voice.

“The labellum is interesting because it serves as a sort of trap for local pollinators in a similar fashion to pitcher plants, the ‘Nepenthes gracilis.”

Your eyebrows raised at this; you never heard of a carnivorous orchid before.

“I thought those were carnivorous. You're not gonna tell me this flower has a taste for flesh now are you?”

He laughed at that, turning his head a bit to catch your eyes, filled with mirth as you leaned closer into his side.

“No Dear cypripedioideae are not a carnivorous species. The labellum is used to trap pollinating insects so that they are forced to climb up the staminode and or stamen so they have no choice but to pollinate.”

You nodded again thoughtfully at his explanation, filing it away in your brain for later when you would both inevitably talk about it at home. Maybe next time you should bring your own little notepad to take notes in, you'd bet Ford would love that.

Now it was time for the final part of his dutiful process; collecting samples. Very regrettably, he pulled away from you to stand once more; moving closer to the orchid. He was still incredibly cautious, the gnomes warnings staying in the forefront of his mind despite his excitement. Safety first.

He reached in and pulled out a pair of his custom six fingered gloves from his messenger bag along with a small knife and a small glass container. Again, with caution, he inched closer. Very delicately he selected one of the pistils and sliced it off. With great care it was placed into the small glass jar before he secured the lid and put everything back into his bag.

All was well when he moved to stand. That was until his jacket got caught on a piece of deadwood by his knee and had him careening forwards and onto the ground below with a loud ‘oof.’ Unfortunately for him you were nowhere near close enough to save him from either his fall or the accompanying embarrassment.

A healthy amount of panic arose in Ford as he opened his eyes and came face to stamen with the orchid he had tried incredibly hard not to touch. His body reacted instinctively; leaping backwards and away from the potential danger and landing square on his ass. You had already made your way over to him, kneeling over him before he could say anything about contamination procedures and potential risks.

“Oh my gosh! Ford are you okay?”

Your voice was riddled with concern as you helped him up. As soon as he was standing you had his face in your hands, squishing his cheeks a little as you turned his face side to side, assessing the damage. He felt your thumb swipe over his cheekbone briefly as you tilted his head to one side before releasing him from your grasp.

“Nothing but dirt and a very handsome face. I'm very glad nothing happened to it Can't say the same for your ass though.”

Ford rolled his eyes at you when you snickered; attempting to feign annoyance and failing miserably, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks. His eyes locked back onto the orchid for a moment, squinting; searching for any obvious signs that he had put you or himself in danger by making physical contact with it. Using two fingers, he brought his left hand to the wrist of his right to take his own pulse; it was normal. He repeated the process and did the same for you, earning the same results. You let him fuss over you for a moment as he gave you a very clinical once over.

Finding nothing out of the ordinary he deemed both of you okay. It was high time you had both returned to the shack, having spent several hours too many trying to find such an elusive plant. Any further medical examinations would need to be done in the lab anyway.

“Maybe it's just something that effects the gnomes? They have similar bodily functions as humans but maybe the potential effects are more potent due to the reduced size. I'm not sure I'll have to-”

Ford's lower abdomen lurched painfullly, forcing his body to double over abruptly. You shouted his name and he could barely hear you, his pulse loud in his ears and beating erratically. Everything was numb as you coaxed him to look at you, trying to blink away the sudden blurriness in his vision. When his eyes finally focused he could see your lips move but he still barely hear you over the buzzing in his skull. This was very bad.

His thoughts began to race; what possibly could trigger such a reaction? He feared the worst and that he had inadvertently poisoned himself; but if it was deadly why didn't the gnomes just say that? It didn't make sense, there was no reason to -.

Just as abruptly as it began, it stopped. The painful cramping of his body has completely dissipated and he could see and hear as normally as he could about two minutes prior. Your hand smoothed up and down his back comfortingly, displacing the fabric of his trademark coat a bit.

“C’mon baby let's get you back to the house.”

You cooed gently at him, slowly helping him stand again as you began ushering him back in the direction from which you came. In no time you were both walking rather briskly in effort to get back to the lab as soon as possible so you could really make sure Ford was okay.

As you were walking Ford noticed that your lips were red and irritated, nervously biting them raw out of worry and anxiety. Vaguely he felt bad which was weird because typically he would feel awful about it. Before he could delved to deep into it the answer hit him when his whole body suddenly tensed and then subsequently relaxed.

His brilliant mind came to a grinding halt, putting the pieces together as he subconsciously inched closer to you. He let out another gasping breath as he ripped himself away from your side. He was left a stumbling mess ahead of you as his brain was bombarded by a single clearcut message; he needed to fuck you.

“I-it’s an aphrodisiac!”

He blurted it out in a harsh breath, holding his arm out and signalling you to stay where you were. He couldn't have you touching him like this, no matter how much his body screamed that you should.

He watched as your face turned several shades of red at his words and he found it irresistibly attractive. No. He couldn't think like that, he could handle this. You both just needed to get back to the shack and to his lab where you could sort this out

“W-we need to get back to the lab as soon as possible. You cannot touch me, I don't want to aggregate this stuff more than I already have. I would like you to walk ahead of me so I can still ensure your safety but please be sure to be several steps ahead.”

Physically he struggled to get the words out of his mouth, his speech already starting to stutter and slur at the edges. It made you worry immensely for his safety, even more so now that you couldn't see him while you were walking.

Once you had turned back to check on him, finding his face flushed a brilliant shade of red and panting hard. A singular bead of sweat had rolled down his face from where it gathered at his hairline. You watched as it dropped from his strong chin to the forest floor below.

“Don't - don't look at me I can't-”

His voice was strained and he found himself unable to finish his though as he was wracked with images of your wanting eyes staring at him from a very different position; beneath him as he pulled you apart by the seams. He couldn't have you looking at him, especially not like that. He knew you didn't mean to but it didn't detract from the clear desire that was written there. It was only logical you would react that way; he was physically aroused, so of course a baser part of you would find it attractive behind the worry you felt for his condition. A condition that worsened astronomically as he felt another wave of pain pass through his abdomen near his stomach. A wheezing sound left him and he physically fell to his knees, leaves crunching loudly beneath his weight. You were at his side in seconds, completely forgetting or choosing to disregard his warnings to not touch him. He closed his eyes, willing the thoughts of ravishing you on the forest floor away as you put a hand on his shoulder. He couldn't. He didn't want to hurt you.

Neither of you had any time to react as Ford's body moved for him, tackling you to the ground from your kneeling position to kiss you hard on the mouth. His body snaked around yours, body pinning you and arms coiling around you in an almost suffocating grip.

“I don't wan’t-. We need to - I need.”

His thoughts and words were a jumbled mess, coming out choppy and fragmented between kisses at your jaw. His eyebrows pinched and he looked pained before he rutted deeply against your hips, jaw slacking in pleasure and letting out a salacious moan that stole the breath from your lungs. His eyes snapped open, the spike of pleasure clarifying in some way as he leapt off of you, suddenly aware of himself and his body. You watched bewildered, sitting up from your place on the ground as he staggered away. You quickly followed, not willing to let him out of your sight. He braced himself on a nearby tree, folding his right arm in front of him to pillow his head there.

“Stanford?”

Your voice was apprehensive, unsure of the situation and maybe feeling a little out of your depth.

“I don't want to hurt you.”

His voice was a whimper, cracking around the edges as he desperately tried to fight off the feelings of immense arousal that clawed at his gut. He knew that he would need to take care of this. Before it got dark, before a trek back to the shack would be impossible, before his body would-.

All his thoughts were cut off as you took your chin in your hands again and kissed him rather fiercely.

“You're the one in pain right now so let's fix that first okay?.”

Without another second to consider; you were underneath him again. He had forcefully pinned you to the tree he was against and promptly shoved his tongue down your throat. It was clumsy and overzealous. The usual finesse and meticulousness he kissed you with was replaced by an animal desperation and hunger, his fingers digging into your waist somewhat uncomfortably. A groan left his throat when you languidly slid your tongue against his, reciprocating his feverish kisses in kind.

Ford was gasping for breath when he broke away, breathing haggardly and chest heaving. He continued his kisses down the side of your face and across your jaw to your ear, whining when the fabric of your sweater stopped him from getting to the skin of your neck. Rather roughly, he used his hand to shove the fabric downwards to reveal your neck to him and promptly latched his mouth onto the exposed skin. Your squirmed helplessly as he mouthed at your throat, moaning as he pinpointed where you were most sensitive and sucked a dark mark into the skin there. He buried his nose into your neck, glasses cutting into your skin as he began a slow grind against you. His arms curling around you on more, guiding your hips to move against him.

His mind was spinning, doing somersaults and getting caught in a positive feedback loop as you moaned out his name breathlessly. The neurons in his brain fizzing and popping as pleasure zipped down his spine, urging his body to seek out more. Without asking for permission and with an embarrassing lack of coordination he tore the sweater off your body, leaving you in the T-shirt you had worn beneath. You were immediately knocked further off kilter as he tugged the material of your shirt up, holding it there and shoving your bra down enough to swirl his tongue around a nipple.

Your hands shot into his hair, clutching the back of his head and scratching your nails into his scalp as he leaves his tongue across the tops of your breasts, very nearly slobbering into your chest with an almost animal insistence. It was like he was trying to take a bite out of you, the way his teeth kept burying themselves into your skin ravenously. Not enough to break the skin but more than enough to leave small indents where his teeth had clamped down onto the flesh there.

Everything about this was so foreign, Ford was always so calculated and relatively gentle when it came to sex. He liked to take his time and ‘enjoy the journey’ so to speak. And sure, it wasn't completely uncommon for him to rough you up a little in the act but this was extreme. You had never even imagined that Ford could get like this, hell you weren't even sure he knew he could. Despite the rather problematic nuances of the whole situation you were still inexplicably turned on. You could feel the slow drip of your obvious arousal eeking out into your underwear; knowing for a fact that you were beyond soaked. Something that Ford seemed to want to know if the shaky hand popping open the button of your jeans was any indication. You could do nothing but hopelessly cling to his broad shoulders as he pressed his dominant hand past the denim and into your panties. A shuddering groan cleaved through his chest at your wetness, his mouth tearing off of a breast in an obscene wet pop.

In spite of the obviously crippling effects the aphrodisiac was having on him he was still trying very hard not to hurt you. His whole body was tense and shaking as he gingerly parted your folds and sank his middle finger into the hilt. He held it there, his body quivering under your hands, trying to find the mental and physical strength to be good to you. Your own body couldn't care less, your self restraint nowhere near his level as you tried to rock yourself onto his hand. You whined pathetically when he completely removed himself.

There was no preamble and nothing that could prepare you as he ripped down your pants and underwear and viciously jammed two of his thick fingers up into your messy cunt. You howled like a wounded animal, digging your fingers into his jacket. Your head whipped back against the trunk of the tree as Ford’s thumb hastily found your clit and circled it vigorously almost to the point of being painful.

“C’mon. C’mon. C’mon.”

Ford was panting haggardly into your ear, broken praises and calls of your name on his lips as he pleaded for you to cum.

“Please please please my darling I need you to cum on my fingers. Please, you're doing so well.”

His voice scratched against the walls of his throat as he spoke, clawing its way out beside the barrage of whimpers and moans; sounding manic and on edge. The bark of the tree scratched roughly at your back as you arched helplessly against Ford's chest, the sensitive skin of your nipples brushing against the knit of his sweater as your breasts jumped with the force of his actions. His hand now positioning in and out of your sopping cunt at a punishing pace as he sucked on the skin of your already bruised neck.

“Stanford!"

You screamed out his name. Your body giving Ford, as well as yourself no other warning as you were blinded by the white hot pleasure singing up your body from where Ford's fingers fucked you. You heard him groan triumphantly, biting into your shoulder as his fingers were replaced by the hot line of his cock spearing into you. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream at the sensation; your body burning at the intrusion and trying to accommodate him through the walls of your vagina convulsing from your violent orgasm. He didn't afford you the time to recover as he pulled all the way out and then slammed home in one subsequent motion. He gathered you into his arms, holding you as close to him as sustainably possible as he pounded ruthlessly into your pussy.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can’t-”

He sobbed apologetic sympathies into your hair as his body betrayed him and forced him to pile drive into you at a splintering speed.

“Oh god Ford!”

You grasped blindly at his face and neck, trying mindlessly to bring him to you; needing to feel his lips on your own.

“A-h Ford kiss me."

Needing no further prompting; his mouth found and locked with yours witlessly, tongues and teeth clashing together wildly. Ford's lips kneaded yours raw, biting and licking at them whenever you pulled away. Giving you just enough time to suck in another breath before diving back in for more, the frames of his glasses digging into your cheek uncomfortably. His hips never stopped, cock punching up into your cervix at a blinding velocity as you writhed in his arms.

He looked pained as he rocked up into you. He was far more feverish looking than before, a blanket of red coating his cheeks and hair plastered to his forehead from the sweat pouring profusely from his scalp. His brows were pinched tightly together and his mouth twisted into a grimace, looking anguished as he chased his pleasure. Your fingers itched to fix his glasses, which were nearly falling off the bridge of his nose and were continuously knocked around with each cant of his hips into yours.

You twisted in his grip. Unintentionally changing the trajectory of his thrusts, making the fat tip of his cockhead spearhead against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars and your cunt clenching tightly around him. Ford let out a guttural groan, hooking his hands under your knees and hitching you up on his hips as much as the jeans trapped between you would allow. The new angle giving him the ability to hit that same spot over and over again; the thickness of his throbbing length dragging deliciously against the sensitive walls of your drooling cunt.

The sounds your coupling produced were entirely pornographic. The lewd slapping of skin against skin and the cacophony of moans coming from your joining would make it incredibly obvious to any passerby to what exactly was taking place. Thankfully you were far enough out into the woods that you were very certain that no other humans would hear you screaming your lungs out as Stanford fucked the brains right out of your head. The various supernatural entities that lurkred within the woods however would probably not be so lucky.

An unholy sound rattled it's way out of your body as you felt yourself careening towards the edge of your second orgasm, cunt seizing around Ford's penis as he steadily plowed into you. He let out a choked noise, pushing somehow deeper inside of you as your back arched violently off of the tree. Like a crack of thunder, you were thrown headlong into another mind-blowing orgasm. Your face morphed into what could only be described as a rapturous expression. Ford watched hypnotized; your face painted in bliss as your eyes rolled back into your head and your jack went slack to release a long drawn out moan of his name that ended in a little whimper.

A newer wetness gushed around his cock from where he bore into you, making the glide into your waiting sex that much easier at every thrust. His mind was blank as his pace turned sporadic, hilting deep as he came inside of you with a sob of your name.

You blinked back the blur in your vision, keenly observing Ford as he rode out the waves of his own petit mort. His head was thrown back, Adams apple bobbing up and down as he gasped desperately for air as if he was drowning. Which he was; completely drowning in the pheromones as he felt like he might go insane from the euphoria tearing through his body. His hands dug harshly into your legs, another stuttering tortured sob wrenching through him as he realized that his body was not satiated.

“It's not- I'm not- I need more.”

You could hardly make out what Ford was saying through the haze of your orgasm. Only truly understanding when you heard the deafening sound of tearing fabric as pressed your hips came flush with Ford's and his still moving cock.

He has ripped your pants clean in half through the inseam you realized, taking your ruined panties with it. The clear display of brute force hit you in the temples and sent you spinning, even more so when Ford pulled off of you to force you onto the forest floor, clambering on top of you and throwing your useless legs atop his shoulders.

As soon as he was in between your legs again Ford pitched back into your greedy cunt, effectively folding you in half and and fucking his cum back into your still quivering sex. Leaves and small sticks scraped against the exposed skin of your back as your body rocked upwards with the absolutely savage way he was fucking you. He was hunched over you and was rutting into you like a dog in heat, the weight of his body against you giving you no option other than to take it. And take it you did, crying out over and over as he rabidly hammered into you, his balls slapping hard against the meat of your newly exposed ass as your knees dug into your chest. His belt buckle jingled as it smacked against the tender flesh there on every powerful thrust. You knew it was going to bruise, much like the rest of your body when this was all over.

You felt the muscles in your inner thighs burn as Ford mindlessly stretched your legs open further around him, using his left hand to hold you by your right ankle. His eyes were glazed over behind the fogged lenses of his glasses. Completely unfocused as he continued to relentlessly plow into you at breakneck speeds. Shockwaves of pleasure reverberated through your body with each pitch of Ford's hips, the angle at which he penetrated you catching your clit on every backstroke and making your cunt sing. You panted heavily into his face, unable to form words past a slim vocabulary of yeses, pleases and Ford's name. A scream ripped through you as a particularly harsh upstroke, his cock battering against the end of your vaginal canal in a way that was just shy of being too painful. The way you had froze up, cunt clenching harshly around him, had him repeat the motion again and again, chasing the feeling. His forehead dropped down to your collar, mouth blabbering nonsensically against your skin.

“Oh god! My Love - my Darling. Please- oh god I'm so sorry-!”

He was powerless to fight against the whims of his body influenced by the effects of the slipper orchid. He continued heedlessly, pounding into you mercilessly. His mumured apologies falling on deaf ears, you were busy being a moaning, shrieking mess beneath him on the forest floor. Your peak just over the horizon and within your reach. You reached out and grabbed it, cumming in a hellascious manner as you thrashed wantonly in Ford's grip.

The orgasm he tore from you was truly earth shattering; our eyes crossing and rolling away with the rest of your sanity as you clawed at his shoulders and chest. Somehow the pounding became even more aggressive as Ford barrelled towards his own climax. The force of his thrusting actively pushing out and displacing the well of your combined spend inside of you with a wet 'plop' as it spattered across your inner thighs and dripped down your ass. His pace turned frenetic, railing into you sloppily as he cried out.

Ford let out an agonized howl when he finally hit his peak, as if the act itself was painful. His body jerked physically; as if he had stepped on a live wire as he came the hardest he ever had in his life. Wounded cries ripppled through his chest, trying to hang onto the last vestiges of his sanity as he well and truly lost his mind in pleasure. The euphoria and relief he was feeling being far too much for his logical mind to handle.

A sob wracked through his exhausted frame when he finally felt his penis begin to turn flaccid within you. You were both shaking violently, clutching onto each other for dear life as his hips turned to a slow grind. His cock was still pulsing inside of you, his ejaculate spilling deep within your womb as his own body eeked out the last swells of his orgasm until his hips came to a stop.

Neither of you said anything. Choosing to coil your arms around one another as you both found control of your faculties. Ford let your legs drop to your sides, his hands finding a new purpose in smoothing up and down the sides of your body, attempting to soothe and mitigate the cold you probably felt due to his reckless treatment of your pants. And also you. God he felt awful. Guilt twisted into his gut like a knife as the reality of what he had just done set in. He threw his head into your shoulder and sobbed openly, unable to keep the grief he felt from hurting you inside his traitorous body. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest seeing Ford like this. Gently you brought your hands, that were rubbing his back and shoulders comfortingly, up to curl your fingers into his hair.

"Hey. Hey. Shhhhhh it's okay. You're okay.'

You shushed him, cooing gently at him and placing kisses to his hair as he shook like a leaf in your arms. With great care, you pulled his face from your neck to look at him. His eyes were bloodshot from crying and he wouldn't meet your gaze, looking guiltily away at the foliage next to your head. Tenderly, you pulled him towards you to press a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. Hands caressing his cheekbones as you coaxed him to look at you.

You could see the guilt there, the shame that was written in them as he looked at you and you couldn't stand it so you brought him in for a kiss. He kissed you with fervor; slowly as he poured all of his love and his guilt into one passionate gesture. Praying that you would be able to forgive him for the great transgressions he had made against you and your bruised and battered body. That you would understand that he had no choice in the matter and that he would do anything to win back the trust that he had inevitably broken.

When he pulled back your eyes were soft, admirable in how they looked up at him. How could you look at him like that? Like he hung the stars in the sky even after he violated you; your trust. Greedily he leaned into your grasp, nuzzling the palm against his cheek . Your voice came out in a scratchy whisper against him.

"I'm okay. We're okay."

You said so little yet it was more than enough. Ford felt tears sting the edge of his eyelids as you smiled at him, warm and genuine. You were okay. You didn't hate him. You still loved him. Letting out a heavy sigh of relief he leaned down further and rested his forehead against yours, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

He only let go when you pushed at his shoulders, his weight becoming too much to bear on your tired body. Gingerly he pulled out of you, the two of you groaning at the loss. Ford watched enraptured, jaw slacked as a copious amount of his semen seeped out of your sex. Unconsciously he ran his fore and one of his middle fingers through it, gathering the viscous fluid in his digits and pushing it back into you.

The lewdness of it all and the implications of such and action brought the blood to simultaneously drain from your face and cause it to flush furiously. The concept of another round a frightening concept to your weary body. A small whimper seemed to release Ford from whatever sexual spell the pheromones pumping through his system had him in. He physically shook the thoughts of taking you again out of his head, mumbling out an apology before wiping his fingers off on his pants. The feeling now dull enough to resist as he tucked his oversensitive length back into his pants with a hiss; the fabric of his underwear feeling harsh against him.

His cock still somehow had the audacity to jump slightly in his pants as he stood, taking in the sight of you. You looked beyond wrecked; your face was still twinged feverish and your chest heaved with each breath you took, still trying to regulate from the strenuous activity. A chest that was fully uncovered in the golden light of the the evening, the sun not having fully sunk past the horizon.

Your shirt had been pushed all the way up past your sternum to fully expose your breasts, discarded bra trapped around your waist. There were hickies and bites everywhere; bruises blooming against the flesh of your neck and chest. Some were darker than others and some were clearly discernable as fingerprints. There were also the clear indications of where he had carelessly bit at you, the worst of it being at the hollow of your throat from where it met your collar just below your shoulder. The skin there shown a dark purple, almost black in certain spots, and right next to it an almost perfect indent of his teeth. He shuddered, a baser part of him extremely pleased at leaving you so disheveled. Male ego sated.

He tutted at the state of your jeans, denim hanging loose above your knees and in two different pieces. Everything ached as he knelt next to you, helping you sit up and righting your remaining clothing. Your panties were trashed, having been another casualty in the throes of passion and unhinged lust. Scanning the ground around the clearing he found your sweater that had been thoughtlessly tossed to the ground earlier and pulled it down over your head before you could start to shiver. He pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead as he smoothed down your hair, brushing out the small pieces of foliage that clung to it and most likely checking for any signs of a concussion.

You hummed contentedly at the contact, enjoying being pampered so thoroughly while your brain was still a gooey pile of mush. With much care, Ford hauled you to your feet; where your poor sore legs wobbled and ultimately failed you, forcing you to look to Ford for aid. Tired brown eyes met yours as you smiled dopily at him, your hands finding his face again and kissing him leisurely. He took the time to hook an arm under yours to support you and sighed against your lips.

"Let's go home dear."

[dyslexic-mess]

“I'm here for the Joker,” The boy said and bruce nearly dropped his cup.

He’d come out of nowhere and it had taken the man a moment to recognise him. Phantom, an odd character he’d sparsely worked with before, stood in the Batcave with his eyes trained on bruce. The green irises bore into him, conveying just how serious the young hero was. Bruce sighed. 

“Well, he’s not here-”

“You know that's not what I mean, Dark Knight.” Phantom cut off, not giving an inch. How a 5’6 teenager managed to look down at him, he’ll never know, but the use of his ‘title’ told Bruce this wasn’t a visit from phantom as a hero. He was visiting as Phantom, The Ghost King. That never ended well…

Phantom the hero was merciful, bashful, even playful and flippant in what little experience bruce had but Phantom The Ghost King? They had only met twice before and the first time almost ended in an interdimensional war.

When he didn't respond again, Phantom softened only marginally. Apparently sympathetic to the bat's position. He crossed his arms. Not in a self-important way, but more how a disgruntled parent might when dealing with a stubborn child. 

“Look, I’ve tried to give you time but my subjects grow restless”

Phantom spoke again, knitting his brows and raising a hand as he spoke. Bruce scowled back “So let them. Surely they can't expect you to drag a man to his death prematurely” he argued. Phantom cocked his brow.

“The joker's death is far overdue. He should have faced his justice years ago.”

“You don't get to decide that!”

The moment after he said that, Bruce regretted it as the room took on a chill. The boy's eyes shone brighter and something crackled in the air. He didn't move. How he spoke and held himself didn't change an inch but suddenly, the air was filled with a sense of danger and bruce could swear he saw the faintest silhouette of a crown above Phantom's head for a moment. 

“Actually, I do.”

His voice was final. “I came here out of respect for you and your territory, not to ask permission.”

“You have 3 days, Dark Knight. If The Joker is not in my domain by then, I will have no choice but to take him myself.”

And Phantom was gone. Leaving nothing but icy air in his wake.

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

20 with David please

20. "Do you ever regret turning me?"

I hope you like this!

------------------------------------

I woke up with a pained gasp, realising that this was it. This was the end. There would be no more sunsets, no more blood, no more him - I couldn't help but whimper as I felt the blood stream out of the wound, my hands covered in it.

"Shit!"

I frowned - who was there? I didn't know what was happening around me. All I could focus on was the stake in my chest. The way it was getting hard to breathe, how I could feel blood flowing where it shouldn't. I hadn't realised we'd been hunted down again, I hadn't realised that someone had infiltrated the cave - our sanctuary. I felt my eyes close, heavy as they were.

"No, no - you don't close your eyes, you hear me?" Someone practically growled, and it was only when I slowly forced my eyes to open that I realised it was him.

"David?" My voice was weak, sore. He looked at me before - without a single warning - pulling the stake out of my chest.

I screamed in pain. Tears were rolling down my face. I wanted to curl up, hide away from the pain, but everything hurt.

"I need the bottle. And fresh blood. Now!"

As I struggled to calm down my breathing, I could have sworn that David sounded panicked. He never panicked. I was about to close my eyes again, when he violently moved me to sit up.

"Hurts..." I whimpered. David held me, letting me lean against his chest as he bit his wrist, offering it to me. I drank, hoping that it would make me feel better. Or at least, that it would heal me. Just a little bit.

"That's it," I heard him say, as he softly brushed some of my hair out of my face.

" 'm tired," I mumbled, fighting to keep my eyes open as I dropped his wrist from my hands.

"I know. But we need to get more blood in you before you fall asleep."

I nodded, not fully grasping what he was saying, but being the situation, I figured it was okay. It didn't take long, or Dwayne had handed David the bottle, covered with diamonds - and more importantly, filled with blood. Greedily, I drank from it, slowly feeling the wound knit itself together. And yet, the blood didn't taste as good.

"What is it?"

Apparently, I had made a face while drinking from the bottle. I looked at David, feeling surprisingly shy.

"Yours is better."

He chuckled. "It's fresher."

I shook my head. "It's just better."

It was quiet for a moment, and I couldn't help but let my thoughts wonder. How we had met, both being stuck in the haunted house after the ride broke down. It was the only time I had managed to scare him before now. How he had taken me out for dinner, how we had met up every single night, and how we became fast friends. Lovers. And then he told me. He told me what he was and what he did. And that he didn't want to change me, because it was too dangerous. I thought it was bullshit, but he had insisted. Until last October, six months ago now. It had been a sweet yet strange kind of proposal. He had offered me immortality. He had asked me to be his partner - or rather mate, as he called it, although I don't believe a mate is someone you necessarily choose - in exchange for the condition that he would be the one to change me the traditional way. Obviously, I agreed, I knew there was no one else for me but him, and to let him bite me in order to change me and protect me from his sire? It's not a big deal. And yet... I sighed, looking at him.

"Do you ever regret changing me?"

He looked surprised. "Where's this coming from?"

I shrugged. "Just thinking."

"Well, don't. Jesus - what made you think that I would regret having you by my side? Are you regretting it?"

I shook my head.

"Neither do I. You're mine." He gave me a soft kiss. He stood up, lifting me in his arms, as he carried me to our bed. There, he laid me down, covering me in a warm blanket.

"Is he gone?"

David nodded. "Paul and Marko are hunting him down. He won't come here again."

I was about to say something again when David sat down next to me. "You need to get some sleep, love. It takes time to heal from a stake."

"Stay with me?"

He sighed, taking his coat off and draping it over my body. "I'll be back as soon as I can, love. I need to feed. You took a lot of blood."

"Sorry."

He shrugged. It was no big deal.

"Be safe?"

"When am I not? Sleep, alright? I'll be back before you know it."

As he left, I felt my eyes close. I was finally able to fall asleep.

[wormlette]

I do think a LOT about why Chilchuck would join the "save Falin" dungeon dive at all tbh and it makes me feel like eating drywall. Namari is the one who brings up the "I figured you'd be the first one to leave, you never take a job without getting paid" and he's like yeah. I do insist on payment up front. But do you think he was ever going to bring up his motivations on his own? If Namari hadn't? I don't think he would talk about it because I don't think it's really that simple. We find out in the ep that just aired a few things--

1) Chil is paid in advance, and however that works, he's apparently already been contracted for future dungeon dives too ? 2) The adventurer's community is tight-knit and full of gossip, so the things you do will have impact on what kind of work you can do going forward.

There are other things we know about Chil:

1) he's worked for Laios' party for three years. Namari was a member before him (she joined at the same time the husband hunter and some tall man guy joined, iirc) and Shuro was a member after him, but after those two leave, he's the person who's worked with the Toudens for the longest. 2) He's had some really shitty jobs in his past, especially pre-union. He understands very well what kinds of things people will use half-foots for. 3) He is thinking about retiring. He was going to retire before joining Laios' party.

And one thing we learned in the very first episode -- Laios told Marcille and Chilchuck that they should sell their equipment so he could go down on his own to rescue Falin. Chilchuck asks him if he's suicidal and then invites himself along for absolutely everything that goes down after. He's more ride-or-die about eating monsters than anyone other than Senshi. Him breaking his contract is obviously not something Laios would have held against him. Maybe it would have "Changed his clientele" as he says to Marcille about Namari in the latest ep, but also: HE COULD JUST RETIRE.

IDK PERSONALLY I JUST THINK this all adds up to an implication that he is really very fond of the Touden siblings. As Marcille notes when she's making a fanfic of his wife leaving him he's not the type to ever say his feelings out loud so it's not ever really gonna be said in the text of the story and THAT'S WHY I'M HERE. They seem to be a well-renowned party during the events of the story, but when he joined up with them they were just a year out from being bodyguards in a gold-peeling party with a few other no-name adventurers (as far as I know from the extras that have come out so far, the order of main chars joining the party went Laios&Falin->Namari->Chil->Shuro->Marcille.)

Three years AFTER HE WAS ALREADY CONSIDERING RETIRING he is willing to go on a journey that every other character thinks is fucking insane for the chance to rescue Falin, even though he is not an optimistic guy and he probably has a more realistic understanding of how dangerous dungeons are than anybody else in the group. If he started doing dungeon work when he left his home at 14 then he has about 15 years of dungeoneering experience by the time of the story. He would know what he's doing is actually EXTREMELY dangerous in a way resurrection magic doesn't actually eliminate. They are going down into a floor that's so far down the story has expressed "it's really dangerous to go there and most people don't because it will be hard for corpse retrievers and necessary supplies to get to you if you die. if you are eaten you might just be gone beause no one will ever find you."

I think he's harsh on Laios because he really cares about him and Falin. We know he ranks Laios' ability as a party leader as like a 61 or something lmfao but IMHO he is like that stern teacher who is forced by admin to put a 20pt curve on every exam because everybody is fuckin failing. Nobody is doing a good enough job. But he must have faith in the idea that Laios is able to do better if he has the right coaching (kicking and yelling at him). I JUST THINK the Touden party has been the best one he's worked in, or if not the best then his favorite, for him to keep doing it for THIS LONG when he SHOULD absolutely have his pick of contracts, given that "no other half-foots had the expertise necessary to accompany Laios to such a deep floor of the dungeon".

[jessybarnes]

I'll Show You

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Rating: 18+ ONLY! Minors GO AWAY

Tags: NSFW Title Card, Angst, Arguments, Bondage, BDSM, Praise Kink, Fingering (female receiving), Oral (male receiving), Throat-fucking, Unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP KIDS!), Begging (obviously), Fluffy ending, Language, and I think that’s it. HEED THE WARNINGS PLEASE!

Betas: @winecatsandpizza

Word Count: 3.6k

Fic Aesthetic: Yours Truly

Dedicated to: @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men

A/N: This is a repost from my old Tumblr blog. I am in the process of moving all of my fics over to this blog. I hope you all enjoy!

From the moment you met Sam and Dean Winchester, you’d known your life was about to change. Be it bad or good was hard to determine, mainly because of what they did for a living, but a little part of it had to do with the fact that the elder of the two brothers didn’t seem to like you.

You couldn’t put your finger on it. Anytime he exchanged words with you, it was always cold and dismissive. Sam assured you that his brother would come around, but you weren’t born yesterday. Dean had something against you, and you, being the stubborn woman you were, aimed to figure it out. 

The three of you were sitting in the library sifting through lore for a case. There had apparently been reports of a Djinn hybrid in the Midwest, and you knew it had to be the work of Michael. Dean had his feet propped up on the table, a rather large dusty book in his hands. Sam was typing away on his laptop, the clicking of the keys being the only audible sound other than the occasional page turn.

You knew that finding a way to kill the latest and greatest monster of the week was what you should be doing, but you couldn’t focus. Not when this whole thing with Dean was eating at you. 

“I can’t do this anymore!”

The book you’d been holding was thrown carelessly onto the table, the sound reverberating off the walls making both brothers jump. 

Dean removed his boot-covered feet off the tabletop and planted them on the floor. You didn’t miss how his eyebrows knitted into a scowl or his signature eye roll.

“Giving up already, Y/N? You know, if the huntin’ life isn’t cut out for you, then you can see yourself out anytime.” 

Sam sighed and gave Dean his best bitch face.

“Dean! Whatever is going on with Y/N, I can assure you that you’re not helping!”

He turned his gaze to you, his hazel eyes looking at you sympathetically. You’d normally just keep your anger bottled up inside, but something inside you snapped. Being a hunter meant everything to you after a demon killed your kid sister, and for Dean to question your loyalty like that had crossed a line. Your anger started to rise within you, like a sea of molten lava until you were no longer in control of your emotions. 

Instead of storming off to your room and slamming the door for good measure like you normally would do, you stood and yanked the book Dean was reading out of his hand. You were gnashing your teeth together in such a snarl that it was a miracle they didn’t break.

“You think you’re so fucking smug, don’t you Winchester? You think you’re this big badass and that nothing can touch you. Well, let me tell you something.”

Your small hand grabbed onto the front of his shirt, bunching it up between your fingers as you got dangerously close to his face.

“You don’t fucking scare me in the least bit!”

The venom in your tone was palpable and with a hard push of your free hand, he and the chair went crashing to the floor. 

Without giving him a chance to fire an insult back, you headed into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. You could hear Dean’s muffled voice as he spat angrily in response to his brother’s laughs. It only made the smirk on your face wider. Maybe now Dean will show you some respect. 

The rest of the night was pretty quiet. You stayed in your room, scouring the internet for a way to kill the monster in question, and munched on some popcorn. The research came easily to you, your eyes scanning effortlessly through article after article. Even though you still hadn’t found a weapon to kill this Djinn on steroids, you knew your efforts would make Sam proud. 

You felt his presence before he knew you did. He loomed in the doorway, leaning against it like it was the only thing keeping him from falling.

“Can I help you, Dean?”

You didn’t even bother to stop reading the article you’d found. He was probably just here to start something with you, and you had neither the time nor the energy to fight. Instead of replying, he pushed off the doorframe and stalked towards you, his shadow spreading across you and your keyboard. 

You knew he was waiting for you to look at him, but you honestly didn’t feel like giving him the satisfaction. Why should you? He’d been nothing but an ass to you since you moved in. So instead of giving him what he wanted, you continued to read. 

Apparently, Dean got tired of not having your attention because the next thing you knew, he’d taken your laptop and tossed it on your pile of dirty laundry in the corner. He crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw clenching as he looked down at you.

“What the hell do you want, Dean? I’m trying to find a way to kill that fucking Djinn. You’re not still pissed about me putting you on your ass, are you? I mean, you kind o-HEY! LET ME GO!” 

In one swift motion, he’d pulled you to your feet and shoved you against the wall. Dean’s chest heaved and his nostrils flared as he towered over you with his full height.

“You don’t fucking get it, do you Y/N?”

His forearm pressed into your chest, not hard enough to hurt you, but firmly enough to hold you in place. 

Even at your disadvantage you still stood your ground. Your eyes narrowed perilously, certain that if looks could kill then Dean would have been done for.

“Oh, you think I don’t get it?! Trust me, Dean. I think I get exactly what you’re doing. Ever since I came here, you’ve been nothing but hostile to me! It’s because I’m a woman, isn’t it? You think just because I’m a woman that I can’t hold my own. Well, I’ve got news for you, Dean Winchester. I can do the job just as good as you any day of the fucking year!” 

You were so caught up in getting your point across that you hadn’t noticed the amused look on his face. His laugh filled the small room as he let go of you. Tears streamed down his face as he hunched over, and it pissed you off that he thought this was amusing. 

Finally, he swiped his sleeve over his eyes and took a few deep breaths to regain his composure.

“Is that what you think? You really think I’m a dick to you because you’re a woman? Oh my God… I thought you of all people would at least get it.”

He sighed and ran a hand across his face.

“Look, Y/N, It’s not because you’re a woman. Hell, some of the greatest hunters I know are women. I’m trying to protect you! I don’t want you to go through what Sammy and I have gone through. You’ve already lost one family member, and I’ll be damned if you lose your life, too. Just… Let Sammy and I handle the hunts okay? You can hold down the fort here in the Bunker and be our research guru. That I know you can handle.” 

It was your turn to laugh.

“What do you know about handling anything? You could barely handle that case with the nest of nearly invincible vampires. What makes you think you can just walk in here and tell me what I can and can’t deal with? I mean, as long as we are on the topic, Let’s just be honest with ourselves, shall we?"

"You couldn’t handle me if I came with a user manual!”

The look on Dean’s face darkened. It sent heat straight to your core, something that you could almost always control when it came to the elder brother. Normally, his asshole demeanor outweighed him being the sexiest man you’d ever laid eyes on. You swallowed thickly as he invaded your space again. His once sparkling green eyes were now clouded with something new, something you’d only seen him offer to the occasional stripper or hooker that he brought back to the hotel.

“Are you challenging me, Y/N?” 

You tried to hide the fact that he was having an effect on you, but your flushed skin and rapid heartbeat betrayed you. Your answer came easily, and the submissive part of you that lay dormant for so long surfaced like a rekindled flame.

“Yes.” 

Dean brought one of his hands up to your face and cradled your cheek in it, the touch alone sent sparks through your veins. His freckles were so easy to see this close. Constellations mapped the entirety of his cheeks, and you briefly wondered if he had them elsewhere. Your eyes flicked from his intense gaze down to his lips, silently willing him to close the small gap between you and devour your mouth.

“Now now, Y/N, is that any way to talk to me? I think you know better. Yes what, sweetheart?” 

You looked down at your bare feet, Y/E/C eyes focusing on the remnants of the chipped polish on some of your toenails. Your mind contemplated what was about to happen. You could still back out of this, push him out of the way, and run. That wouldn’t solve anything though. Running from your deepest desires, from Dean, was what you’d essentially been doing for months. It was now or never and quite frankly you wanted to give in. You wanted him to have full control over you, and you’d dreamed about it more than you’d like to admit.

“Y-Yes, Sir.” 

Two of his fingers rested underneath your chin, raising it so you were looking up at him.

“Good girl.”

His praise was the first nice thing he’d ever said to you, and you’d be lying if it didn’t make your heart sing. His lips closed the distance and pressed against your own hungrily. His tongue slid into your awaiting mouth and you moaned sinfully. He tasted of cinnamon and whiskey, just like you’d always imagined.

Dean broke the kiss and touched his forehead against yours, his hands coming to rest on the curvature of your waist.

“Go to my room, Y/N. I want you to be stripped and kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed before I get back. Do you understand?”

Your response was immediate. Almost like a reflex, as it left your lips in a whisper.

“Yes, Sir.”

He watched you leave the confines of your room before heading the opposite way. Your feet padded down the hallway and came to a stop outside the closed door of Dean’s room. It had been years since you’d had a dom, and even then they hadn’t exuded as much dominance as Dean had just moments ago. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you entered his room and closed the door behind you. The smell of his cologne wrapped itself around you like a hug. The familiar scent calmed your nerves instantly and soon you found yourself naked and kneeling at the foot of the bed just as you had been told to do. 

Dean came in a few minutes later and set what sounded like something heavy on top of his dresser. You didn’t dare look up though. He hadn’t given you permission, and you wanted to show him that you could be good and obey him.

“Look at you, doing what you’re told like a good, little girl. See? I knew you could do this. I bet you’re soaking wet already, and I haven’t even touched you yet.” 

Once again his fingers came to rest under your chin, tilting your head so you were looking up at him through your lashes.

“Get on the bed.”

He wasn’t mean about it, but his tone was firm and laced with an underlying warning of consequence if you disobeyed. Swifty and quietly you climbed onto the comforter and resumed your kneeling position. Dean walked around to the other side of you and sat down. He was still fully clothed, but you could clearly see his erection tenting his jeans.

“Alright, sweetheart, let’s talk about the rules. You are to address me as sir, and only sir. Don’t cum until I tell you to, and if you ever feel uncomfortable with something that I am doing, then please use the safeword ‘cake’. Do you understand? 

Hearing that your safeword was cake confused you at first, but when you thought about it for a moment it made sense. Dean was a pie fanatic. Especially if it was pecan pie, but you’d never seen him eat cake. Let alone mention it. So you could see how he’d come up with it in the end.

“Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”

Dean seemed convinced by your response so you stayed still and waited for his next command. You could hear him pick whatever he had brought with him off the dresser, and your pulse quickened at the thought of what he was about to do to you. 

The bed dipped behind you, and his hot breath fanned across the back of your neck making you shiver.

“Clasp your hands behind your back for me, baby. I’m going to restrain you now so you stay still for me.”

You brought your hands behind your back, interlacing your fingers together so your wrists rested against your tailbone. The feeling of the nylon rope being looped around your wrists made you impossibly wetter. The thought of being restrained and letting none other than Dean Winchester worship your body was enough to make you cum, but you couldn’t do that. Not when he’d specifically told you not to. 

Dean made quick work of the black rope. He maneuvered around your torso, wrapping it around each elbow and tying a knot in the middle to lock your arms in place. The rest of it was placed expertly around your chest and tied off, the final knot resting along your shoulder blades. He let you fall head first into the mattress, your head turning to the side so you could breathe. He stepped back to admire his work.

“A damn good job if I do say so myself. It’s not too tight, is it, darlin’? 

You took a moment to tug at your binds and unclasp and reclasp your fingers. Everything still had circulation, but you still couldn’t break free if you tried.

“No, everything feels fine, sir.”

You heard him walk behind you, no doubt enjoying the view of you on display to him.

“God, you look so fucking beautiful like this. Look at you… showing me that perfect, round ass and that tight, little pussy of yours.”

He ran one of his fingers through your folds, and it took everything in you not to moan. Your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from making any noise.

“Mmmm just as I thought, soaking wet just for me.”

The thick digit left you and you looked into his lust-blown eyes as his lips closed around it.

“So good, Y/N. Now, are you ready for me to test you? Gonna show me what a good girl you are?”

You shook your ass at him for good measure and replied without hesitation. “I’m ready, sir.” 

Dean grabbed onto your hips and pulled you to the edge of the bed, his clothed erection applying slight friction to your needy cunt. He ran his middle and index fingers through your juices a few times before sliding them into you.

“Be as loud as you want, princess. Sam isn’t here to hear you. It’s just you and me.”

Ever so slowly, he moved his fingers in and out of you, making you moan loudly.

“F-Fuck!” 

His pace increased, and you felt the coil of heat tighten. You were so close already and he’d barely gotten started. You felt your walls tighten slightly and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to maintain control. Dean knew how hard you were trying and you also knew he was competing with you. Using his skills to his advantage to see how much you could take.

“Oh shit… shit shit shit… I don’t know if I can…. FUCK!”

Dean curled his fingers so they hit that spot inside you with each thrust. Soon you couldn’t hold back any longer. With a cry of his name, you came hard, squirting all over his hand and the bed. 

The white-hot orgasm nearly made you pass out, and by the time your climax was over you knew you were in trouble. You couldn't see his face, but you were sure Dean wasn’t happy.

“Tsk tsk tsk … Y/N, you knew the rules. I seem to remember you agreeing to them and look at what you’ve done. You’ve made a mess, sweetheart.”

Just as you were about to apologize, he picked you up and set you gracefully on your knees.

“Are you ready to show me how sorry you are?” 

Balancing on your knees while you were tied up like this was difficult, but being this close to Dean’s cock made your mouth water.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry for disobeying you, sir. May I make it up to you by having you fuck my throat?”

The groan that left his lips was downright the most sinful thing you’d ever heard, and you definitely wanted to hear him make that noise again.

“Fuck… you read my mind, sweetheart.”

Dean began to circle you, watching you like a hawk would its prey. His tie was the first thing to go. Seeing him reach his right hand up and rip it off shouldn’t be as sexy as it was, but at this moment anything Dean did was sexy. He stopped in front of you and undid his belt and the top button on his pants, letting them pool carelessly at his ankles.

Finally, he freed his cock and you watched as he pumped it a few times. A bead of precum wept from the tip, and you leaned forward to catch it on your tongue. Your mouth closed around the head and Dean let you set the pace at first, more praises flying from his mouth as you took him in as deep as you could. 

“That’s it, princess… suck my cock. Mmmmm, you’re so fucking good at that. Taking it so well.” 

His hand fisted in your hair and you let him take over. You relaxed your throat as he took what he wanted from you, your eyes watering more and more every time he hit the back of your throat.

“Jesus… you have one helluva mouth, Y/N.”

He began to pant and his thrusts began to falter. His grip loosened on your hair and you whined as he pulled himself from your mouth.

“Now, baby, don’t you want me to cum in that pretty pussy of yours?”

As much as you wanted to make him come apart with your mouth, having him buried inside you was more appealing at the moment.

“Please, sir. Please fuck me.” 

Once again he picked you up, moving you back onto the bed with ease. Dean crawled behind you again, placing a hand on each of your hips. Without warning, he sheathed himself all the way to hilt, both of you crying out in pleasure. Dean set a harsh pace, his fingertips surely leaving bruises on your skin. You knew you would be sore. He was not, by any means, lacking in size. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t allow you to adjust to him. 

His thrusts began to falter again, and you felt that familiar feeling come back. You tightened yourself around him, and he growled, fucking you harder into the bed.

“S-Sir!... please, sir! Please, may I cum? … F-Fuck!”

You were so close to the peak of pure bliss that you could almost taste it. You just needed a little more. Dean grabbed onto the knotted rope in the middle of your back and pulled you so your back was to his chest. His other hand snaked around your body and circled your clit vigorously.

“Fuck, Y/N… C’mon, princess… Cum all over my cock. Let go, baby.” 

A few more seconds of him fucking up into you and you fell over the edge taking him with you. Your walls milking Dean for all he was worth. He held you there for a few minutes, your heavy breathing in sync as you both came down from your high.

Dean placed a chaste kiss on your back and pulled out of you. He took his time untying you, being careful not to irritate your skin further. Once you were free you stretched your arms and popped your knuckles. 

Dean sat with his back to the headboard and pulled you into his lap, his hands rubbing your back gingerly.

“You did so well, Y/N. I’m so proud of you. You’re amazing.”

He kissed you sweetly and you melted against his chest, your eyes fluttering shut from exhaustion. 

You listened to the steady beat of his heart and somehow made your brain form a coherent thought.

“I’m glad we were able to settle things, Dean. I was beginning to think you really did hate me. I understand everything now.”

He kissed the top of your head and held you protectively. “I could never hate you, Y/N. Not when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you, princess.”

His words shocked you, but you were too tired to respond. Sleep came easy for you in Dean’s arms, and you couldn’t wait to wake up tomorrow to see what this new life with Dean would bring you.

[thetormentita]

something rotten - prelude

once otto hightower is forced to resign as hand of king aegon ii, his legacy inside the red keep may not resist as much as he would have thought

Pairing: Original female! Florent x Aemond One-Eye Targaryen

A/n: Otto, you cunning fox.

Rate: Mature (+16)

“You summoned me, my lord?”

Otto Hightower’s gaze examinates her as she takes a sit in front of him, like if with a mere look he could get more information than words could ever provide. His study, dimly lit by the flickering flames of a solitary candle, seems to confine secrets within its walls, secrets that whispered through the heavy air, secrets that had seen the rise and fall of kingdoms.

“It seems I am leaving.” The revelation startles her, a mix of confusion and concern knitting her brows together. Otto, with a demeanor as calm as the still night, continues, his voice a soft echo against the ancient books that line the study. “Apparently, the fool of my grandson thinks himself fit and proper to take us out of the war without any counsel.” Elinor Florent frowns, her hands unconsciously smoothing out her skirts as she processes his words. Certainly, the most intelligent man Aegon could trust is Otto Hightower, his own grandsire. “When was the last time you were with him?”

“Before what happened with Jaehaerys” Otto leans back, his gaze drifting to the window where the moonlight barely pierces the thickness of the ancient glass. “After that Aemond is the one who has been looking for me.”

Otto’s mind races as she digests Elinor’s words, the gravity of the situation setting in. The Hightowers have long been a pillar in the politics of the Seven Kingdoms, their influence stretching from the high towers of Oldtown to the very halls of the Red Keep in King's Landing. He had been the one to summon her, out of trust and kin, to be his right hand inside the keep, to navigate the treacherous waters of the court and to ensure the family’s interests were safeguarded above all. Otto knows Elinor was well chosen for this role. Her sharp mind and even sharper tongue had made her a formidable presence in the courts of the Reach before she flourished, and there was little doubt she would bring the same level of acuity and determination to King’s Landing. Elinor has always possessed an innate understanding of the complex dance of politics, an understanding that Otto finds more than useful combined with the curves of her body and the allure of her charisma. It is a potent combination that can disarm the most guarded of foes and charm the harshest critics. Otto was confident that the young Florent could help him dominate his eldest grandsons, and for a time it worked.

“What now?”

Otto takes a deep breath, and his hand goes to his beard, stroking the silver threads thoughtfully. “We must be more cunning than ever,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of experience and unspoken plans. “Danger looms over us all, Elinor.”

Elinor, stands up and her feet drive her by the window with the light casting a halo around her, turned to face Otto. Her eyes, sharp and discerning, reflect her resolve and the gravity of the situation.

“Sooner or later disgrace will fall upon Aegon, you know it as well as I do.” he sighs “How far is Aemond going?”

“Give me some time and he will fight his brother over me.”

“Good.”

The room seems to shrink with the intensity of their conversation, the stakes higher than the walls that enclose them. The shadows cast by the light flicker like the unsteady heartbeat of their alliance, a testament to the dangerous game they are playing. Otto nods, his expression unreadable, yet his eyes betray a flicker of anticipation. “Just ensure that Aemond's ambition doesn't consume him entirely. He is the best sword we have, but a sword wielded without caution can cut the hand that holds it.”

The warning, veiled yet clear, hangs between them, a reminder of the fine line they tread in their quest for power. The room, dimly lit and suffused with the scent of old wood and whispered secrets, feels like the very embodiment of their clandestine endeavors. The air around them thickens with unspoken understandings and the heavy weight of responsibility that rests on their shoulders.

“What to do with the Queen Mother?”

A flicker of a grin appears upon Otto Hightower’s face, as if he finds the question amusing, or perhaps it is the weight of the irony that it carries. His own daughter Alicent, once a figure of untouchable authority and power within the realm, now lays aside in the game, consumed by her own ambitions and the resulting downfall. He considers the question carefully, his mind weaving through the intricate tapestry of political machinations and personal vendettas that have defined the court of King's Landing for years. Otto knows too well that the fate of the Queen Mother could sway the delicate balance of power that they currently hold.

“Your worry is over them. If you manage to get Aemond to put a child in you and Aegon to recognize it as his, maybe you can even leave Helaena’s household and have a proper one” Otto muses aloud, his voice a blend of realism and a touch of cynicism, both knowing that he would have been more than glad if his blood would run through her veins. “But tread carefully, my dear. The politics of the court are more treacherous than the darkest alleyways of Flea Bottom. One wrong move, one misplaced trust, and you could find yourself falling from grace faster than you could ever anticipate. Remember, in the eyes of the court, alliances are everything. You must play your cards wisely, Elinor.”

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

Anything For You

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Prompts -  “Shh. Stay here and don’t make a sound no matter what you hear. I’ll come back for you when it’s over.” & “You shoot anyone who walks through that door who isn’t me, you hear?”  

Javier knew it wasn’t a good idea to bring you along. He should have just waited for Steve, or better yet he should have kept his mouth shut and followed his lead himself. Instead he had been ordered to bring you along, he knew damn well it was to keep him in line, he was known to play fast and loose with the rules, it was the main reason you had been assigned to the case with him and Steve.

It wasn’t even that he didn’t like you, he did, he really did and wasn’t that part of the problem. You were the first person he’d met down here that made him want to give up his life of lonely nights and prostitutes, the first person he’d actually let in. Nothing had happened between the two of you much as Javier wished it would but he knew he liked you, he cared about you and wanted to do everything he could to keep you safe.

So having you walk into one of Escobar’s apparent abandoned safe houses wasn’t exactly filling him with joy. It set him on edge and he felt like he couldn’t focus properly, ever since you’d walked through the door he’d had one eye on the room and one eye on you. It made it damn near impossible to look for anything useful.

“Are you sure this place is abandoned?” You asked as you lifted up a newspaper and frowned down at it.

“My source seemed pretty sure.” He told you but frowned with you, trusting you and your senses more than any of his informants. “Why?”

“This is yesterday’s paper.” You said, holding it up to him so he could read the date on it. “Your source tell you exactly when they left?”

“He seemed to think they left in a hurry but no, no he didn’t say when.” Javier said and his frown deepened as he looked around the room.

“Something about this place doesn’t feel abandoned.” You told him and he nodded without looking at you, knowing that as bad as he wanted to keep you safe he had a job to do.

The two of you made your way through the safe house, frowns firmly in place as more and more evidence piled up to suggest that the place wasn’t as abandoned as you’d been led to believe. You questioned just how trustworthy Javier’s informant was and he swore to you their information was usually good, it had never been wrong before.

“Maybe Escobar figured there was a rat.” You suggested and Javier’s eyebrows knitted together, his guy wasn’t too close to Escobar but he was close enough that Escobar knew who he was.

Just as Javier was about to say something the roar of more than one engine could be heard from outside and you and Javier’s head shot around to face each other, your wide eyes staring back at him as he desperately tried to come up with a plan but he couldn’t see any way out.

You were stuck in here.

“Fuck.” Javier cursed as the engines cut off and seconds later the door you and Javier had come through opened and shut.

“Javi,” You started but cut yourself off as he stepped closer to you and cupped your cheek, bringing his forehead down to rest on yours.

“You trust me?” He asked and you didn’t even need a second to think before you nodded against him, murmuring a soft yes that had Javier’s lips pulling into a smile despite the situation. “Good girl, stay here, I’ll be back soon.”

“Javi, no-” You protested in a whisper but Javier had already made his mind up. His job was to protect you, his purpose was to make sure you were safe. What happened to him didn’t matter, not when your life was in danger.

“Shh. Stay here and don’t make a sound no matter what you hear. I’ll come back for you when it’s over.” He told you and looked into your wide, watery eyes as you shook your head. “Hey, you gotta trust me baby.”

Javier watched as you took a deep, steadying breath and even as your bottom lip trembled you nodded and he kept his smile in place, trying to be brave for the both of you even as the place was filled with God only knew how many of Escobar’s men.

“That’s my girl.” Javier said and watched your lips twitch upwards slightly.

He pulled away far enough so that he could place a soft kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger against you for a few seconds longer, savouring the feeling of you against him and hoping like hell he had the chance to see you again.

When he pulled away his hand went down to his gun, taking the safety off as he made his way to the door. You watched as he moved to leave, a tear sliding down your cheek as every part of you wanted to follow him out of the room.

“You shoot anyone who walks through that door who isn’t me, you hear?” Javier ordered and you took another steadying breath and nodded, pulling your own gun out. “That’s it, baby. Keep quiet and stay in here, yeah?” Again you nodded and with that Javier left the room, shutting the door silently behind him.

The house was painfully silent for a long couple of moments, your chest hurting as you practically stopped breathing to listen out for Javier. You flinched violently when you heard gunshots ringing out, too many to count and every part of you screamed to go out there and help Javier.

You couldn’t though, he had told you to stay hidden and you just needed to trust that he had this, that he could get the upper hand. Your stomach churned as you waited though, knowing that, whilst Javier wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in them especially when your safety was at risk, Escobar’s men were ruthless.

You just had to trust Javier. He was good with the gun, he knew what he was doing.

He would be ok.

The sound of gunshots seemed to last for hours when really it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before the house filled with silence. You held your breath again, waiting for any sign of life but when the house stayed silent you took a step towards the door with a feeling of dread.

Then you heard a thud before footsteps started to make their way towards the door. You took two steps back and held your gun tighter in your hands, hoping like hell it was Javier on the other side.

The seconds between hearing somebody grab the door knob and the door opening were tense and you let out a sharp breath of relief as Javier practically fell through the door. You noticed the blood covering him and ran over to him just in time to catch him, struggling to keep his weight up as you tried to find a wound.

“I’m alright,” Javier tried to assure you through gritted teeth and you just shook your head. “S’not all mine.”

“C’mon,” you said as you wrapped your arms around him more securely and practically dragged him out of the room, knowing you needed to get out of here. “We gotta get you to a hospital.”

“No!” Javier protested, stopping abruptly causing you to stumble and Javier to nearly fall to the ground, letting out a pained curse as he did. “No hospital.”

You didn’t argue with him, knew there was no time for that, so instead you nodded and repositioned your arms so you could help him to the car. It took longer than you would have liked but eventually you were driving away from the safehouse before any more of Escobar’s men had the chance to show up.

Javier had you drive to the apartment complex, he knew he couldn’t risk the two of you walking into a hospital, if Escobar was looking for the two of you then the staff under him wouldn’t hesitate to report two Americans walking in.

He gritted his teeth and leaned most of his weight onto you as the pair of you struggled up the stairs and into his apartment before you helped him onto the couch where he dropped onto it none too gently, letting out a hiss of pain as he did.

“Let me see.” You demanded, trying to keep your voice from shaking but Javier knew you better than anyone and could see how scared you were no matter how well you tried to hide it.

“I’m alright, baby.” Javier tried to reassure you again, his tone breathy as he tried to push the pain down.

You shook your head and knelt down in front of him, a sight Javier would have drank down any other time but right now his side ached in pain and it was taking all his strength to keep calm in front of you. Your hands came up to his blood stained shirt and pulled it up, murmuring a soft, distracted apology as he winced.

Your eyes immediately went to the wound on his side, a bullet had skimmed his skin, deep enough that he would definitely need stitches but thankfully the bullet had gone clean across his skin so there was no need to deal with it lodged in him.

“You need a hospital, Javi.” You told him, this time you weren’t able to stop the shake in your voice as you looked up at him and saw his head tilted to the side like he no longer had the strength to hold it up and his eyes drooped closed. “Hey! Don’t even think about sleeping.”

“No hospital, baby, can’t protect you right now.” Javier slurred out and you felt your own panic rise as you thought through your options. No hospital, Steve wasn’t in his apartment and Javier wouldn’t trust anyone in his right now.

You were going to have to patch him up yourself, a great idea if you actually knew what you were doing.

“Ok, ok, no hospital but you have to work with me, Javi, ok? You can’t sleep, I’ll be right back but you gotta stay awake for me.” You told him, moving to stand up and get Javier’s first aid kit, knowing it would be fully stocked with everything you needed.

“Do anything for you, baby.” Javier breathed out and despite yourself you couldn’t help but smile before moving around his apartment.

It didn’t take you long to come back to Javier’s side with everything you thought you needed and frowned at Javier’s closed eyes.

“Hey, you gotta wake up.” You told him whilst you gently shook his shoulder, watching as a lazy smile spread across his face and he forced his eyes open to look over at you.

“M’awake baby.” He promised you and you smiled back as you picked the soaked rag up and gently wiped over the wound, apologising as Javier winced and moaned. Once the wound was cleaned you rooted through the first aid kit and quickly found a needle and thread, wincing yourself as you pierced his skin to patch him up.

Your stomach turned at the sight but you knew you had to do this, so after taking a steadying breath you continued to make your way up the wound, finding it easier to breathe when the blood stopped coming out dangerously fast. Your hands were shaking as you tied the thread off after piercing the needle through the wound one last time before you sat back on your heels with a deep sigh.

“That’s my girl.” Javier said and you let out a shaky laugh that sounded more like a sob really, Javier’s hand coming up to slowly rest on your cheek to pull you closer to him.

You went willingly until your head rested against his shoulder and he moved his forehead to rest against yours, his thumb brushing across your cheek bone. You leaned into the touch, suddenly feeling as exhausted as Javier looked and Javier shifted slightly to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead that had your eyes filling with tears.

He was ok.

“You did good, you’re alright.” Javier assured, feeling your tears on his hand and you pulled away from him slightly, just far enough to look at him properly. “Hey, you’re alright, you’re safe.”

“Javi, you were shot.” You told him, he had been shot and here he was still making sure you were ok. “You were shot and you should have let me help you.”

“You did help me, you fixed me up-” Javier started but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“You should have let me help you back in the house.” You protested and watched as Javier's face softened as he looked at you. “You got shot because you wanted to keep me safe but what if I was with-”

“Baby, if you were out there with me,” Javier interrupted you, pausing to wince as he sat up and you helped him into a sitting position. “If you were out there with me I promise you I’d be worse off.”

“But I could have protected you.” You told him and a smile spread across his face.

“Y/N, there were four guys with huge guns who didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger and I got away with a little scratch. If you were out there with me it would have been worse because I’d have been so focused on you I wouldn’t have been able to protect you properly.”

You were silent after that and Javier watched you process his words, he never wanted you to think he didn’t think you weren’t capable, he’d seen you out in the field and knew you could handle yourself but in a situation where you were outnumbered by, at the time, who knew how many men, Javier had to make a decision and he was always going to choose to put himself in danger before he let anything happened to you.

“Hey,” he said softly as he nudged your knee with his, “it’s been a shit day, let’s just go to bed.”

He watched as your eyebrows knitted together before you looked from him to his bedroom door and seemed to melt as the tension fell from you and you nodded, standing first so you could help Javier up.

Javier winced at the pain in his side but it was bearable enough that he could also focus on how good it felt to have you pressed up against him. It didn’t take long before you got to the bedroom and you set Javier down gently before he told you that you could wear one of his shirts.

You didn’t hesitate to grab one you knew well, it wasn’t anything special just a simple dark green shirt but it was well worn and smelt like Javier, it felt like being enveloped by the man. You left the bathroom and watched as Javier’s face shifted from a wince of pain into a soft smile that spread across his face and you couldn’t stop yourself smiling back.

This was how it was supposed to be, you and Javier coming home together, climbing into bed with each other where Javier could wrap his arms around and pull you into his chest. The two of you should have this and now that Javier had had a taste of you pressed up against him he knew he was done for, he knew there were no more excuses about why he couldn’t ask you out, knew he couldn’t go back to nights filled with prostitutes to mask the loneliness he felt.

This was how it was meant to be, you and him together, with hopefully less blood and needles, but the two of you together in a home that was your own.

__________

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Thank you so much for reading!❤️‍🔥

[witchywriter18]

Being married and having a child with Sebastian Sallow

Slight hint of MC being a Hufflepuff but I'm a Hufflepuff soooo, deal with it

You and Sebastian got married almost immediately out of Hogwarts.

After you had stood by him during 5th year, he knew you were going to be the only woman for him.

Nah, let's face it. He knew you were perfect once you kicked his ass in DADA, the other stuff just sealed the deal.

Anne actually attended the wedding. While she was still upset about the relic situation, she couldn't miss her own twin's wedding.

Sebastian was very much on the verge of tears when he saw you in your dress.

If you thought he was clingy when you were dating, oh boy. Sebastian is even more clingy and affectionate after you two got married.

After the honeymoon, you both decided to live in Feldcroft.

While yes it held horrible memories for Sebastian, it had some good ones too. And he was ready to make more good memories with you.

For work, I don't think Sebastian would become an Auror. He didn't want to be anything like his uncle. I like the thought of him being a cursebreaker or even an unspeakable.

You on the other hand. Instead of being a housewife, you're either a herbologist or magizoologist. Your reasoning being that you've dealt with enough dark wizards and treasure hunting to last you a lifetime.

After about a year of marriage, you find out that you are with child. Sebastian is literally giddy with excitement.

And now super overprotective Sebby has been activated.

"Oi, put that down! It's too heavy!"

"......Seb, this literally a sheet of paper."

Oh boy, this will be fun....

When he's not at work, he's following you around the house like if he doesn't have eyes on you, you'll get hurt.

You accidentally knicking yourself with the knife while he was using the bathroom didn't help.

"Seb, it's just a small knick. It's nothing-"

"IT'S NOT NOTHING!!! YOU GOT INJURED WHEN I WASN'T HERE!!! *sniff* I'm a horrible husband😢"

Oof, and you thought you had moodswings.

After making sure your SMALL wound was cleaned and bandaged, you're consoling him for a good hour.

He's also getting sympathy pains and cravings.

You have back pain? Now his back aches a bit.

You're craving chocolate on top of bacon? Now he wants a bite.

Once you start showing, he immediately thinks you shouldn't be galivanting around the highlands.

You agree with that since you don't want to take a bad tumble and put your unborn child in danger, as much as it pains you to not being able to rescue beasts.

Ah, there are the mood swings! Yes, now you're crying about how now you won't be able to save a hypothetical Niffler named Opal.

During the months as your stomach swells, you're trying (and failing) to knit little booties and a hat for your child.

Sebastian is quite good with his hands (in more ways then one 😏) so he's making the baby's crib by hand.

When you guys are in bed getting ready to sleep, Sebastian has his hands on your belly. He gets so excited when the baby kicks.

Sometimes when the baby is too restless and won't let you sleep with all the kicking, Sebastian's hand gently rubs it, trying to sooth them.

"Alright little one, I know you're excited to explore the world outside your mother's womb but you need to let her sleep. So stop moving about and sleep you little troublemaker."

He also like kissing your belly just cuz he can.

During your final month, he gets time off so that when the time comes, he's ready to wisk you off to the hospital.

So, the time comes. Sebastian is anything but calm.

"WHERE'S MY WAND?! I CAN'T FIND MY WAND TO APPARATE US TO THE HOSPITAL!!!"

"It's in your hand darling. Now take me to the hospital before I pop this child out on our kitchen floor."

Unfortunately, back in those days, father's weren't allowed in the delivery room. So all he can do is pace outside, panicking whenever you let out a scream of pain.

My poor boy is literally having flashbacks to when he had to use the Cruciatis Curse on you.

Your friends show up to give the poor man support, and to see the baby. Or hear in Ominis's case.

Ominis is patting Sebastian on the shoulder gently.

After about five hours, the midwife comes out to sat that Sebastian can see his wife and daughter.

Man literally jumps up and rushes into the delivery room.

Once he gets inside, he sees you looking exhausted with your hair messy and sweat on your forehead.

With your little bundle of joy held to your chest.

Sebastian is once again crying like he did on your wedding day.

When your friends are coming in one by one, he's presenting your daughter this way, every time;

"Behold! The Snadger! The product of a snake (him) and a badger (you)!"

"Sebastian, stop calling our daughter that or you're not going to get the chance to put another child in me."

You both decided to name her Anne Lilian Sallow.

She has your hair and skin tone while she has Sebastian's eyes. Only time will tell what other features she'll gain from her parents over time.

I'll probably make a sequel to this with early parenthood headcannons. This was originally just gonna be marriage headcannons but then the saga of pregnancy came up so it changed.

[gatheredfates]

ALAICE DEVERAUX

Nicknames: Not applicable. Age: Twenty-one. Nameday: Twenty-Seventh Sun of the First Astral Moon (apparently I gave her my birthday, so that might change!) Race: Duskwight Elezen. Gender: Cis female. Orientation: Straight? Profession: Lady of the House of Deveraux and Dubois, last remaining survivor after the Dragonsong War; apprentice baker and occasional confidant to Firelight Trading Company.

PHYSICAL ASPECTS

Hair: A light blue, leaning more into teal. She tends to style it in loose curls around her shoulders. Eyes: She is heterochromatic! One eye is teal, the other is a steel grey. Skin: Pale with a silvery undertone; it tends to reflect whatever light hits it, rather than possessing it's own distinct colour. Tattoos/Scars: None of any note.

FAMILY

Parents: Lord and Lady Deveraux, dead by Alaice's sixteenth year. It is said that Lord Deveraux attempted to defend his wife from the dragons before he was engulfed in flames. No remains of her mother have been found. Siblings: Not applicable. Grandparents: Not applicable, more unfortunate souls lost to the war. In-Laws and Others: Alaice has a child from her first marriage, a daughter called Alyna. Her husband, Draeir Dubois, died under mysterious circumstances in the months preceding the Ishgardian/Dragon peace treaty, bringing no end of speculation from gentry and smallfolk alike. Some suspect his desire to expand his house beyond Foundation's spires drew ire from the High Houses and he was made an example of. Others suspect a more... intimate cause. Without a murder weapon or obvious intent, none can deduce a proper suspect.

She is particularly close to @riftdancing's Siyoh Mari who, whilst not understanding a lick of Ishgardian gossip, will happily entertain the confusion over a cup of tea as Alaice dramatizes. This leagues better than Elandervier who told her she'd 'rather chew on a voidsent's ass' and leaves at the very mention of anything to do with the city. She has an extremely complicated relationship with the other Elezen due to their mutual upbringings, trauma and reconciliation.

When Firelight is conducting business in Ishgard, she can be seen at its patriarch's side helping him navigate the intricacies of the city. Pets: Unless you count the many birds that have taken residence in her gardens, not applicable.

SKILLS

Abilities: Alaice is ice-aspected to a dangerous degree, and it's an element she has always tried to keep under wraps for fear of heresy and expulsion from the Holy See. As a result, the magic is unpredictable and emerges as a by-product of extreme situations/emotions. Only a select few people know she possesses such an ability. Hobbies: Like all ladies of her standing, Alaice was given a proper education including tutelage in deportment; music, song and dance; needlework and painting — among other gentle pursuits. She has a particular affinity for bird watching and, in the advent of her husband's death, has sunk herself readily into her little business as a baker.

TRAITS

Most positive trait: Alaice possesses a remarkable capacity for trust despite her confinement and husband's abuse. Worst negative trait: Her naïvety. As a woman constricted by the societal expectations of Ishgardian women, Alaice knows scarce little about the world around her — or even Ishgard proper. It is something she is working constantly to undo.

LIKES

Colours: Blue, white, silver, gold and shades of brown. However, given Ishgard's proclivity to the cold, any colour that can break through the sheen of snow is a welcomed addition in her eyes. Smells: Anything floral and/or citrus. These are not necessarily smells she will wear, but remind her of a time before the Calamity when the climate of Ishgard was better suited. She's also partial to vanilla, almond and loves the smell of rain. Textures: Knitted wool and smooth glass (or ice, though she tries not to think too much about it), the gentle prick of pine and the grooves in wood and stone. Drinks: Champagne, white wine and mead. She's also discovering some enjoyment of red wine, stay tuned if she gets more extreme!

OTHER DETAILS

Smokes: Rarely. She smoked recreationally after her parents died, a sort of 'dare' from the other ladies in her company, and took it up in secret as a way to release anxiety in the early days of her marriage — away from the prying eyes of her husband. Alaice quit after becoming pregnant with Alyna and hasn't taken it back up due to associating it with those negative experiences. Drinks: Semi-regularly. Much like smoking, she quit entirely when she got pregnant and tends to only partake as a social nicety. She can acknowledge where she was falling into unhealthy patterns when she was married and tries not to go back to those places. Drugs: Not applicable. Mount Issuance: Not applicable. Alaice was fed on the indoctrination by her husband that is not a lady's place to traverse, but that men should come to her. If she is needed for Firelight Business she will be escorted by their couriers, but she has no vehicle of her own. Been Arrested: No. Being a suspect was traumatic enough. Why would she kill her lord husband?

Tagged by: @eriyu — at least for this one! I'm going to try and do one character per tag. Tagging: @thefreelanceangel, @hythlodaes, @piyopikamika, @sealrock, @thevikingwoman & @yloiseconeillants! If you'd like a chance of being tagged, you can like my permanent interaction call here!