#Defiantly relate to him though

[aerkame]

Do you have hcs for the "Hero is Back" Sun Wukong?

Since I do not know the context of the headcanons, I'll just go with anything in general. Also, this is canon. (I'm being serious)

And you know what? That's very fitting.

Just like Monkey King Reborn and The Monkey King 2023, I think this version of Sun Wukong would also be very standoffish, especially towards someone he just met or doesn't know well. That is, if this was hundreds of years ago. I think modern day Monkey King would probably be more secretive of his identity but more friendly. Just respect his boundaries and personal life please.

Defiantly doesn't like the fame of Sun Wukong in modern times. He really doesn't come off as the type to like large crowds and popularity.

However, there's still that playfulness to him, he might pull a joke or two on you and act a bit silly while alone or with friends.

He would be a great dad if I'm being honest. He did so well with taking care of Liuer and the girl even if he probably won't admit it. Though I don't think he likes kids all that much, those two had to grow on him.

The modern version of him seems like he'd be a chill and nice person to hangout with. Although a bit stubborn and hotheaded

There is a bit of confidence to him and everything he does, he's got a natural charm

This dude is also surprisingly calm compared to most people, pretty sure he would feel safe to be around and relax with. I know I would feel safe around him.

Would absolutely be an introvert's best friend. He's patient even if it doesn't seem like that at first glance, and he's mindful of others personal space. He knows when to leave someone alone.

I feel like he'd be in the same boat as myself when it comes to relationships just based on how he acts. He's open to being in one, but he doesn't catch feelings easily, if not at all. So the chances of him dating are pretty slim. Plus, there's the immortality issue.

He does like to tease/flirt every now and then, but don't take what he says to heart. It's all in good fun.

IF he does find a special someone, he'd be so soft around his lover. He's a big softie around people he cares for in general.

I'd expect him to be very romantic and hush hush about his partner as well.

This monkey man, dresses to impress. Even if it's a hoodie. He will find the best looking one for sure and wear matching clothes.

He probably stays near other monkeys or people he personally knows, he doesn't seem like the type to get out much to socialize. Maybe go to events, but not to meet people though.

Probably socially anxious when the crowds start to get too large.

Bet he'd love to go to art walks and art events.

[t0rturedangel]

Adam x reader where he flirts with her just to see her blush

╭ . . . 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚞𝚎 ੭

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐌 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ♰ ৎ﹕ 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩 (𝘩𝘤𝘴)

WOOO first Adam request, ngl despite him being a prick i lowkey fancy him so hard, so yeah, also the reader is an angel in this, Adam would NEVER do this to a demon / devil

𝘩𝘤𝘴

✧⠀⨾ Adam is a prick, this is a shock to no one and he always loves to take the piss out of everyone and everything, he is the self proclaimed "original dick"

✧⠀⨾ but there is obviously something very wrong with him when he's around you- he changes, almost becomes tolerable and instead of making fun of your looks or how you acted in his usual perverted and demeaning way- he instead does it in a way to make you feel all sheepish

✧⠀⨾ he loves to walk up to you, defiantly with finger guns or something like that, and say some stupid pick up line: something relating to heaven and you

Adam, the first man and head of the exorcist angels, walked over to you- a shit eating grin graced his face however you were too preoccupied with some angelic duty to notice his presence in the area. Though, unsurprisingly you weren't shocked when he appeared behind you, his clawed hand on you shoulder ❝ hey there beautiful, I know I'm in heaven now, you just look so angelic ❞ and he watched you turn to him, face coloured with a beautiful golden hue that not only increased Adam's ego but also his grin.

✧⠀⨾ it's safe to say that Adam loves seen your face all golden (COZ ANGELS HAVE GOLEN BLOOD AND BLOOD WITH WHAT MAKES YOU BLUSH SO YOU AHVE GOLDEN BLUSH BTW)

✧⠀⨾ Not only does it make him feel even better about himself and his ability to swoon the ladies, he also just adores watching you get all sheepish and 'faint' around him because of his complements, angels are meant to be pure and dont really flirt with each other- so it's weird to have Adam constantly come up to you.

✧⠀⨾ it's also like only you that he does it to, any of his admirers (lets be honest, Adam has girls, and maybe even guys, who want him) are always ignored and they're so envious of you it's crazy.

✧⠀⨾ Dont worry though Adam loves you enjoys making you blush too much so any issues with people that like him and lute will get them for you / him.

✧⠀⨾ if you ever get de-sensitized by his flirts and comments he'll go mental- he find you blushing to be so fun and adorable so if you just stopped it would crush him

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Seeded and Sore

aemond x niece!reader

A/N: fufilling a request, hope you enjoy love

word count: 1,347 words

TW: smut, DUBCON, spanking, incest, threats of violence (not to reader), breeding kink, slight knife kink, virginity loss, rough smut

“What are you wearing?” Aemond asks as his eyes rake over your figure. Your beloved betrothed often has issues with how you dress, the issues specifically relating to the sparse coverage the fabric provides your body.

“A dress.” You say. “ You know, kepus, with how much people drawl on about how clever you are, I would have expected you’d recognise the garment.”

“I don’t believe most people would consider that even half a dress, riñītsos.” little girl. “Change.”

Ever since you were engaged, Aemond has made a habit of ordering you around. Neither of you enjoy the arrangement but since he is a handful of years older, and a man, your uncle has decided that you must adhere to being the perfect little wife.

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember the marriage bells tolling. So why are you commanding me as if I am your wife?” You ask defiantly. 

“Because you are a brat who doesn’t know what’s good for you. Princesses don’t go around dressed like common whores. When you become my wife, I will not tolerate such behaviour.” He says to you and you try not to giggle at how he attempts to flaunt his power when you know for a fact that he is pitching a tent in his pants at the same time.

“Of course, uncle.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone before walking off to where the jousts are happening, with no intention of changing your gown on the way.

~~~

Ser Brandon, that’s the name of the cunt you give your favour to. Aemond likes to think that for duty’s sake, you’d give him your favour if he’d competed. But he knows that you give about as many shits about duty as he does tourneys.

You smile at Ser Brandon and giggle at him flirtatiously before you toss him the wreath of flowers. Aemond pays close attention to the way your breasts are pushed up as you bend over the railing and say something only loud enough for the knight to hear. The encounter fills his whole body with lust and rage.

“What did you say to him?” Baela asks you, ever the gossip.

“I told him that if he won, then i’d give him much more than my favour.” You say and Baela gasps at the scandal as you both giggle about it together.

Your uncle’s blood boils. Surely you didn’t intend for him to hear that? But he knows how you are and he knows just how to put you in your place.

~~~

You jump as the door to the library bursts open. “Everyone out!” Aemond shouts and the few occupants leave, quickly obeying the angry prince. Not you though; you know the demand didn’t extend to you.

“My my, uncle. What has irked you so?” You ask him in a condescendingly sweet tone as you rise from your chair.

He strides over to you and grabs you by the chin and you gasp softly. “Do you think that you can make a fool out of me, niece?”

“I must misunderstand you. I would never try to make you look foolish.” You reply calmly.

“Hmm… then why did you offer to fuck another man right in front of me?” He asks, matching your calm tone which makes you nervous enough to drop your eyes. His hand moves to the back of your head and he grips your hair tightly at the roots, pulling your head back so that you have to look up at him. “Look at me when I speak to you.”

“Let me go.” You pout a little and grasp at his arms in an attempt to make him release you. He yanks your hair harder and you aren’t sure if you moan in pain or pleasure.

“You. Belong. To. Me.” He says seriously. “Do you understand? No other man will touch you.”

You stay defiantly silent.

“I will make you understand then.” You don’t have a chance to contemplate what he means before he drags you to the nearest table in the library and bends you over it.

“What in the seven hells are you doing?! Let me up now!”

“Be quiet now, riñītsos. We wouldn’t want to draw anyone in when you’re in such a state, now would we?” He says as he pins your hands behind your back with one hand and unbuckles his belt with the other. “Do you know what i’m going to do to you with this?” He asks as he places the belt on the table and lifts your skirts. “Do you know how common girls are punished when they’re naughty?”

“Aemond don’t!” Your protests are met by a whip across your ass by the belt.

“I told you to be quiet. I have been far too lenient with you and now it’s time for proper punishment.” He spanks you again with the belt and you whimper but don’t say anything this time.

He pulls your smallclothes down so you’re bare from the waist down and you squirm at the embarrassment of your handsome uncle disciplining you in such a way. He admires the way your cunny is glistening with wetness. 

“Let me go you bastard!” You say, humiliated by your own arousal.

“Oh do you like this, riñītsos? Do you like it when your uncle gives you what you deserve?” He gives you another swat with the belt and the pain intensifies with the lack of protection your smallclothes provided.

“I’m sorry.” You whine out softly, trying to end the punishment but he continues. “I promise I would’ve never let him touch me.” He scoffs at your words and you feel him roughly bind your wrists together with the belt.

The sound of his dagger being unsheathed rings through the air. “If he ever comes near you again, i’ll slit his fucking throat.” He cuts your dress from halfway up the bodice down to the hem so he doesn’t have to hold it up anymore. You then hear him fiddling with his trousers. “He will know who you belong to soon enough, when your belly swells with my babe inside of it.”

“No you canno-” You begin to struggle and protest when you hear what he says but your words are cut off when his thick cock is thrust into you and he quickly sets a tempestuous rhythm, fucking in and out of you like you are nothing more than a cock sleeve. He grips your hair roughly and yanks your head back so he can speak directly into your ear.

“Do you know what i’m doing to you right now? I’m ruining you. Nobody will have you after this but me.” His hips continue to meet yours and you let out a little moan. “I’m going to fill you with my seed everyday for the rest of your life. Any stranger who comes by will know you’re mine when they see our silver haired children clutching at your skirts. The children I put inside of you.” 

His cock continues to slam into you mercilessly and you can do nothing except lie there and take it.

“Kepus…” You breathe out when you feel yourself steadily climbing to your peak.

“Gods, you’re gripping me like a vice. So much big talk for a girl with a virgin cunt.” He laughs at you and gives your ass another slap. “It’s okay, riñītsos. I’m going to fill you now, fill you nice and deep.” He gives a few more slower thrusts before spending himself inside of you, the feeling of his cum filling you causing you to reach your own peak as well.

He lets you rest for a moment as you breathe heavily before he unties you but only so he can put his belt back on and make himself look presentable. He tosses his cloak to you so that you might cover yourself.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, niece. I shall speak to your mother about us marrying on the morrow.” He says as he walks to the door. “Oh and one more thing. Don’t even think about drinking moontea.”

taglist(comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

[cattonicdragon]

Man your work is great :D could you do Astrid hiccup tuffnut ruffnut and snotlout with a small jolly reader(4 feet tall) that riders screaming death or a titan wing catastrophic quaken.(I just like the this short joyful person next a GIANT creature that looks like it squash you like a bug it's just a bit funny to me XD)

Astrid,hiccup,the twins(separately) and snotlout x reader who’s a short ball of joy and rides a screaming death

Decided to do screaming death cus I love them

<<WARNINGS:abit of angst,snotlout not likeing spitelout,mentions of injuries(dragons mainly),snotlout needs a hug,spelling errors probally>>can you tell I don’t know how to do warnings?

HAS BEEN PROOF-READ

Astrid

She is absolutely stunned

Your so tiny.and yet you managed to tame the screaming death

She nearly had a heart attack the first time stormfly and the screaming death play fought,she still nearly dose after she gets used to them

She knows your screaming death won’t hurt stormfly,but as the good dragon rider she is she gets worried for her dragon

She may not admit it but she’s extremely cocky over the fact that one of the dragon riders on their side managed to tame the screaming death,with is defiantly no easy feat 💀

She genuinely questions you on how on earth you managed to tame the screaming death

She’s amused by the size difference between you and your dragon

Little ball of joy and a island destroying demon/pos

Due to your small size she can easily pick you up

She picks you up under your arms and you can only dangle there

You’ll just have to hope your screaming death is feeling nice and might scare Astrid to put you down

Don’t think you being small is all fun though.

Is stormfly is particularly pissed off by the screaming death she will pick you up by the scruff of the neck and run/fly off with you

A chase will ensue,that may or may not have to end up with hiccup and/or having to sort it out

She admires how you can stay so sweet and joyful

She may or may not admit it but she adores your personality,in hard times you can seem like a bright light in a endlessly dark hallway,and she couldn’t be more grateful

Hiccup

Also nearly has a heart attack

The screaming death defiantly had some bad blood with him and toothless

But with you,it’s like a big cat/dog and almost completely docile

How?

Ok well maybe the fact that he made the screaming death plummet face first into a rock wouldn’t help

Your tinny compared to hiccup and even tinier compared to the screaming death

He worries that you may become a large target for dragon hunters

Toothless and the screaming death,don’t exactly get along

I mean years of hatred and bad blood isn’t going to fix easily…

But the you and hiccup will find them curled up together

You don’t understand them but that’s ok

He asks if he can examine the screaming death,or maybe ride it.riding is a less likely option though 💀

He will wince or cringe if he sees any scars or damage he may have caused

He can relate to you being positive and joyful alot

But can also be abit jealous,how can you stay so joyful even in some of the most stressfull situations

He’s so unimaginabley grateful that your there for him during the entire time

You decrease his stress tones

It also feels like a weight off of his shoulders with the burden of having such a great relationship with a endangered and powerful dragon,you’ll stick together and get through it though

He also picks you up,and makes fun of your height.

Ruffnut

Probally one of the only ones who dosnt almost have a heart attack

If anything she’s jealous that you managed to tame such a cool and destructive dragon

Begs asks if she can have a ride just one please?

Will try everything and anything with the screaming death

You will need to supervise 24/7 sorry not sorry

She brags about you all the time

She loves your short size and will toss you over her shoulder/hold you like a log

She’s teases you about your size WAY to much,please tell her to put a sock in it T.T

Barf,belch and the screaming death become the faces of Loki day

Barf and belches personality might have slightly affected your dragon but oh well

Loves to cause distruction with you

If you don’t go on a mission she’s not going either,even if tuffnut begs.

She enjoys your joyful personality and loves that there’s someone that slightly carefree

She also feels like she can be more reckless now that there’s a island destroying dragon on the riders team

You will have to keep an eye on her,or lecture her.either works

Will Loki you hard,unless the screaming death is around.she dosnt want to become 🧀 today thanks

Tuffnut

Also dosnt get a heart attack

Instead he gets destructive zoomies

He begs you,like hands and knees and everything

For one chance to either ride or cause destruction with the screaming death

Jokes on you though if you say yes to either,the other will happen anyways.there’s no winning in this situation sorry

Surprisingly knows when to give the screaming death space

He’s reckless but sensible

Will bribe the screaming death to go on destructive trips constantly

He makes fun of your height,more than ruffnut

Chiken and the screaming death surprisingly get along the best,unlikely but wholesome friendship for the win

Chiken by proxy loves you a lot aswell

So if tuffnut loses chiken he checks you and the screaming death basically first

Somehow carries around a stall with him so you can get to high places when need be

Will kick ruffnut off barf and belch for a ride if you asked

Man Is whipped for you

Don’t leave tuffnut alone with the screaming death though,either he or someone else will die

He at some point becomes something of a second rider to the screaming death,it’s a lot of bribing and treats though and also the fact that he encourages the screaming deaths destructive tendencies

He likes your joyful ness,will also try to bribe you to help him get out of situations he gets himself into

Snotlout

Probally faints during first encounter

Is very worried for everyone’s saftey,it’s a similar situation as to when they took in the injured singetail

Complains a lot about the fact that allowed to bring the SCREAMING DEATH to berk/the edge

He admires you Aton

Your short,shorter then him and look at you go!

Gets a bit jealous of you and may think he’s not good enough

Give him a hug :(

One time during the longest day he ended up snuggling against the screaming death,and survived.after that day they grew abit closer which was sweet

He enjoys your optimism and it’s a good balance since he can be abit pessimistic sometimes

If his dad ever comes to visit and your around he finds himself gravitating towards you,he feels safe with you

Hook fang and the screaming death like tug of war.why?,who knows

They like to play catch with each other aswell,again no idea why

He asks if you want to ride with him and hookfang quite a lot,it’s his way of non verbally getting recognition and validation

He finds himself being a lot less pessimistic when your around and just in general,your jolly personality is infective and effective

He likes to just hug you when he’s feeling down of tired

He picks you up places you in places where you can’t get down easily

He pisses off the screaming death.quite a lot

He likes writing books for you and indulging in your hobbies aswell

Shows you off a ton,as long as you don’t mind though,he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable

He likes knitting things for you

He also likes it when you both are in the same room,you can be doing something different or even just being quiet,as long as your there he doesn’t mind

He likes to spar alot aswell,but he never lets it get to the point where either of you get hurt

He’s very protective of you despite the fact he dosnt really need to be

He just cares alot

[writing-imagines]

Oh Baby // Leah Williamson

Summary: Your relationship with Leah has always been a secret to the public. So, when you’re photographed looking very pregnant and hanging out with your best friend, Austin Butler, the internet assumes he is the father. Leah, already hating Austin, gets jealous and wants to announce to the world that you’re married and expecting your first child together.

Pairing: Leah Williamson x Pregnant Actress!Reader, Reader x Platonic Bestie Austin Butler

Possible warnings: pregnancy, jealousy, Hollywood politics

When you were younger, you always swore you’d never get married. Your insistence on never getting married only grew stronger once you made it to Hollywood. Everyone warned you that getting married and having kids would instantly kill your acting career. With that kind of warning, you followed the narrative your PR team created for you to a tee. For years you pretended to be the cool relatable actress who only starred in critically acclaimed films and never did serious relationships. Really, the only relationships you had were PR for whatever movie you were promoting.

That all changed once you met Leah at an event. You fell for her hard and fast, even though it went against every rule that Hollywood taught you. The one rule you did follow was keeping your relationship extremely private. It took a full year before either of you even let friends and family know you were dating. You didn’t want to hide your relationship, but you knew it would be easier to function in your professional life if everyone believed you were single. Since no one knew you were dating there were no paparazzi stalking you to get a couples picture, no fans bashing you for dating, and no interviewers asking you about one another.

Your marriage was even a secret with only handfuls of trusted friends and family attending. While you managed to keep everything about your relationship under wraps to the general public for years, you knew it would become much more difficult to protect your relationship status when you and Leah decided to go through the process of having a baby.

After consulting your team, you decided to make an announcement on Instagram that you would be taking a break from acting to focus on your mental health and family. It wasn’t a total lie and the public seemed to support your decision. So, for eight months, you laid low. You hardly ever went into the city, if you did you were heavily disguised, and you really only left the house to go to Leah’s family events. But, as you approached the ninth month mark, you were tired of being cooped up all day and not being able to fly home to see any of your friends. That’s why when your best friend invited you out to lunch, you happily accepted.

“What are you doing?” Your wife questioned as you rummaged through your shared closet.

“I’m trying to find that really oversized flannel I bought from the thrift shop a few months ago.”

“Why? You look fine.” Leah cocked her eyebrow as she watched you sort through all the hung up shirts.

“Because, I want to try to hide the bump while I’m at lunch with Austin.”

“What? You didn’t tell me you were going out to lunch and you certainly didn’t mention you were going with him.” You rolled your eyes at Leah’s words. Your wife had always been weary of Austin since you told her about your short lived PR relationship for a drama film you both starred in years ago. You reassured Leah that nothing actually happened between the two of you, besides a few strategically planned kisses in front of paparazzi, but she could never shake the jealousy she felt towards him.

“I told you last night after I picked you up from the airport.”

“Babe, I was barely awake when you picked me up. I don’t even remember coming home.”

“Well, I defiantly told you. Here it is!” You pulled the shirt off the hanger and held it up as if it were a trophy.

“Can’t you cancel? I’ve missed my girls.” Leah took a step forward and placed her hands on your very round belly. Ever since you found out the baby was a girl, Leah couldn’t stop herself from always saying you were ‘her girls.’

“No, I can’t cancel. We’ve had this lunch planned for weeks.” Leah huffed before letting go of your stomach and sitting on the bed. As you attempted to button the flannel, you noticed the blonde crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.

“Oh don’t pout. I’ll only be gone for a little bit. When I get back we can cuddle.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” Leah’s eyes softened and she allowed her arms to fall at her sides. You walked over to the bed and placed a sweet kiss on your wife’s lips.

“I’ll see you later. I love you.”

“I love you too. Have fun.”

You made your way out of the apartment and into London. Thankfully, the restaurant you were meeting at wasn’t too far away and was in a less busy area. You knew Austin also wasn’t a fan of being recognized in public so it made sense he would suggest a lesser known spot to meet. When you approached the restaurant, Austin was already seated outside at a table.

“Hey, Y/n! How have you been?” He jumped up and greeted you with a hug.

“Pretty good! Just waiting for Little Miss here to come out.” You gently patted the top of your belly after pulling away from the hug. Austin smiled and shook his head as you both sat down.

“I still can’t believe you’re having a baby. I remember when you were firmly against domestic life.”

“That was years ago. Thankfully, I stopped being so stubborn and met the person who made me want to live the domestic life.”

“How is Leah anyway? She still hate me?” Austin questioned as he flipped through the menu.

“She’s good and she doesn’t hate you. She just hasn’t gotten to know you yet.”

“She’s known me for five years. I was involved in your wedding!” He chuckled and leaned back in his chair. You playfully rolled your eyes, knowing that if Leah and Austin would just sit down and talk they would get along well.

“I promise Leah is really sweet. It just takes her a while to warm up to people.”

“At this rate, maybe she’ll like me by the time I’m fifty.”

“Mhm, I think fifty-five might be a better guess.”

You both laughed and continued talking, catching up on life and future plans. While you were both caught up in conversation, neither of you noticed the group of teenage girls across the street snapping endless pictures of the two of you.

Hours went by, but you were so engrossed in conversation that you didn’t notice the time. You only realized how late it was when the restaurant started to get busy. You both agreed it was best to leave before someone noticed either one of you. Austin paid for the both of you and you promised to get together again after the baby was born. After a quick hug goodbye, you started the journey home.

As you approached the apartment, you mentally prepared for Leah’s snarky yet playful comments about how long you’d been gone. “Honey, I’m home!” You called out as you entered. When you kicked your shoes off, you expected some kind of response from Leah. Instead, you were greeted by silence. “Leah, babe, are you home?” You called out again, making your way to the living room. It was there that you found your wife, curled up on the couch with the tv on mute. Your brows knitted together in worry, something was off.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Not really.” Leah held up her phone for you to take. Once you were close enough, you took the phone from her hands. You let out a sigh when you realized your wife was looking at an article on a gossip website.

Y/n Y/l/n is pregnant! The two time Academy Award winning actress is pregnant with her first child. While the baby’s father is unknown, fans on social media are speculating that it is her ex-boyfriend and former co-star, Austin Butler. The two were spotted together at a restaurant with Y/n trying to hide her baby bump with an oversized shirt. Fans are also speculating if the pregnancy has anything to do with her absence from Hollywood and if she’ll even return to the silver screen.

Attached to the article were about fifty pictures of you sitting at lunch with Austin, your stomach absolutely not hidden by the flannel like you hoped. Your heart started to race as the realization set in. The secret was out, everyone knew you were expecting. All your hard work for the past eight months had been for nothing. Your reputation as everyone’s favorite cool and easy going actress was thrown out the window. Now, all anyone would see you as was the successful actress who stalled her career for a baby. You could see it now, every studio and director writing your auditions off because they knew you had a baby that you wanted to get home to rather than spending sixteen hours on set.

You could only imagine all the emails being sent between your publicist, PR team, and management at the moment.

“People think you’re pregnant with his baby.” Leah mumbled, her eyes were glued to the ground and she looked disappointed.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” You questioned with a harsher tone than intended. You didn’t understand why Leah wasn’t freaking out with you since she knew just how important your public image was to your career.

“Yes. She’s my baby, not his.” Leah looked up at you with pure sadness in her eyes. You let out a sigh and tried to slow down your racing thoughts. Leah was clearly upset at the thought of everyone believing you were having a baby with the man she was jealous of. Knowing how easy it was for your wife to walk off the edge, you decided she needed your attention more than your career did.

“Whose baby is it?” You questioned in a soft, more playful tone with a cocked eyebrow. Leah caught on and twisted her lips to stop a small smile from forming.

“Our baby. She’s our baby.” Leah reached for your hand and squeezed it tight.

“Yes, she is and everyone in our life knows that.”

“But the public doesn’t know.” Silence once again fell over the room as you thought about what your wife said. After a few moments, you understood just what she meant.

“Are you saying you want to tell everyone about us?”

“Yeah, I do. I want everyone to know that you’re my wife and you’re pregnant with our baby. If that’s okay with you.” Leah squeezed your hand again, silently letting you know that she was supportive of whatever you wanted. It was a moment you thought about since you got married, but you never thought the day would actually come where you’d tell the public you were together and started a family. Plus, the word was already out that you were pregnant, there was no reason to not confirm it.

“Yeah, I would like that.” Leah’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, making you smile too. She quickly jumped up and kissed you like her life depended on it. When you pulled away, you both had wide smiles.

“Should I call my PR team and have them come up with an announcement? It will take some of the pressure off us.”

“No, I already have an idea.” Leah announced matter-of-factly with a proud smirk.

“Oh really?”

“Mhm, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”

“What exactly are you thinking?”

“You’ll see.”

A few hours later, after responding to what felt like thousands of emails from your team in LA, you were curled up in bed and waiting for Leah to join you. While you absentmindedly flipped through tv channels a notification from Instagram flashed on your phone screen.

Leah Williamson tagged you in a post.

You opened the notification and were immediately greeted by one of your favorite pictures of you and Leah that Katie McCabe had sneakily taken at your last birthday party. You were sitting on the kitchen counter, your t-shirt strained against your newly round stomach, with Leah standing between your legs. Both her hands on either side of your stomach and she looked absolutely in love with you. You remembered the moment fondly, it was one of the first times Leah got to feel the baby kick.

The caption under the picture read

From my favorite actress, to my wife, to the mother of my child. I’ll love you forever.

Even though it had only been posted for barely a minute, the post already had thousands and likes and hundreds of comments.

“What do you think? Is it a good announcement?” Leah questioned as she leaned against the doorframe of your bedroom.

“It’s perfect.” You shared the post to your own stories with a few red hearts. Moments after sharing the post, you turned your phone off for the night. Since there was an eight hour time difference between LA and London, you knew most of your friends back home would see the post and want to text you. You simply chose to deal with all the texts in the morning.

“I’m glad we announced it. I was getting tired of pretending like we were just friends in public.” Leah said as she climbed into bed next to you. Once she was comfortable, you moved closer to her so you could lay your head on Leah’s chest. Her arm wrapped around your back to pull you closer while her other hand rested on your belly.

“I’m glad too. Now I can come to your matches without being paranoid that someone is going to see me there and post about it.” You looked up to see a smile tug at Leah’s lips. The blonde knew how stressful it was for you to show up to Arsenal matches and the thought of you finally being comfortable while watching her play made Leah happy.

“I can’t wait to look in the crowd and see you and the baby. You two will be my good luck charms.” Leah gently traced little patterns on your stomach. The thought of you standing in the crowd, holding your baby, and cheering the blonde on was enough to make Leah’s heart explode with joy.

“What are you going to do if she doesn’t like football?” You questioned, lifting your head slightly off Leah’s chest. She let out a sigh and shook her head.

“I think I’d probably just die.”

“You’re dramatic, you know that?” You let out a small laugh before laying your head back down.

“I’m dramatic? Says the one with two Oscars and only stars in dramatic films.”

“Without those dramatic films, we may have never met. You might have ended up with someone who isn’t dramatic.”

“Oh, that would be just awful.” The blonde said with pure sarcasm in her voice and playfully rolled her eyes.

“You love me and my drama.”

“Yeah, I do.”

You and Leah talked for a little while longer until you eventually fell asleep with your head still on her chest. Leah couldn’t help but watch you sleep. It was a habit she developed shortly after discovering you were pregnant. The blonde could stay awake all night watching your chest rise and fall. It was during quiet moments like that where Leah questioned just how lucky she was to have you. You could have anyone in the world, but you chose her and Leah was forever grateful for whatever she did to deserve you and your baby girl.

[flowerandblood]

Robbed and gifted (2/6)

[ arranged marriage • modern!Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex and cheating, fluff ]

[description: (Anon Request) She and Aemond are faced with a situation, where they must form a fictitious marriage. They are complete strangers to each other, who cannot find themselves in a new reality. When his wife stands up for him at a family dinner, something changes between them. Smut, angst and a lot of sexual tension.]

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

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Aemond woke up feeling more guilty than ever. He cheated on his longtime partner. He wanted to justify himself with alcohol, but he knew that he wasn't drunk then. No matter how he looked at it, he wasn't seduced either.

He put his hand in between her thighs, he literally threw himself on her like an animal and even though he assured her that he would stop, he didn't.

The truth was he'd been frustrated ever since he'd seen her at the Registry Office. He hoped to see an empty, defiantly painted, stupid girl who only wanted his money and his family's company.

When he saw her he thought painfully, that she looked surprisingly normal. She was pretty, had a soft face and large eyes, with a pleasant figure. She looked pale and ashamed, just like him.

When she came to his apartment to ruin his life, he felt like he was going to lose his mind. He was a loner, his apartment was his sanctuary and cave, even Alys he brought there reluctantly, preferring to meet at her house.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a stranger entered his private space, took one of his rooms, making him no longer feel at home. The first nights he went to Alys because he couldn't stand it.

"What is she like?" Alys asked, looking at him with a slight, rakish smile, seeing his frustration as she took a swig from her glass. He rolled his eye, frustrated that he was bringing up the subject again.

"I don't know. We don't talk." He said coolly, toying with his glass in his hand. Alys giggled, running her long fingers along his arm.

"Should I be worried about her?" She asked softly, almost in a whisper, sensually. He swallowed harder at the sound of her voice, feeling the desire.

"Don't be silly." He murmured as slid his hand into her hair, pulling her firmly against him, pressing his lips against hers.

After a few days, however, he needed to work in peace, and being in Alys's apartment he couldn't concentrate. He went back to his apartment, resigned.

He agreed to all this only for his father. Because his father asked him for something for the first time in his life. Before, Aemond had felt like he might not exist to him.

Of course he talked to him, but just like to everyone else. He didn't understand when other parents said, that their children were special to them. He didn't know what that meant.

If he was special to anyone, it was Alys.

When he got up and saw her in the kitchen, he wanted to back out. He decided he couldn't be that oversensitive, and he wanted a cup of coffee anyway.

He walked over to her, pretending not to see her and the pile of sandwiches that she had prepared for them. He knew that she was already thinking something up in her head, and he didn't like it. However, it was the remark about her college that unnerved him.

As was his habit, he blurted out his words faster than he thought. He locked himself in his office, sat down in front of his desk, and ran his hand over his face.

He knew full well that he was taking it out on her. Even if she did it for money, no one forced him either - he could refuse.

He immediately felt remorse.

He even considered standing up and apologizing her for the outburst, pointing out that any warming of relations between them was not real for him.

However, she herself made his task easier by closing herself completely, disappearing from his line of sight. He felt like he was living alone again.

He tried to pretend to be content and indifferent, but he knew that he was treating her like an unwanted dog that he had locked in one of the rooms and pretended, that she wasn't there. He knew that she didn't deserve it, but he didn't do anything about it.

When his father invited them to dinner, he knew he couldn't refuse. He wanted to vomit at the thought that they both had to pretend, or worse, that something might come out. There was nothing he could do.

They went there together.

He didn't know what possessed him to put his hand on her thigh. He decided that since he hardly said anything to her or looked at her, he had to at least physically pretend that there was any closeness between them. He tried not to think about how warm and soft her skin felt under his fingers, how close his hand was to her panties.

For some reason she was wearing a dress without wearing a bra, which immediately caught his attention. She looked pretty and girlish, the complete opposite of his gloomy and mutilated appearance. He thought that in normal life she would never look at him, and the thought made his lips tighten.

When his father said out loud, in front of the whole family, that he wasn't dedicating himself to the company as much as he should have, he wanted to burst out laughing.

Something inside him snapped then, and he was on the verge of doing or saying something very, very bad. When his wife spoke suddenly with a certainty and directness that he had never seen before, he was completely stunned.

Alys, though so faithful and devoted to him, would never speak to his father that way, because she would lose her job.

She wouldn't risk her good position for him.

He told himself that he didn't blame her, that she was older than him and had a right to stability, not wanting to take a risk. For some reason he felt pain, that the only person who had publicly defended him from his father was a complete stranger. The thought broke him.

He thought about it all the way back to the apartment. He thought that maybe she was right. Maybe he demonized her too much, wanting to personalize her as the source of all his problems when, in fact, it had always been his father.

He decided that at least he would try to treat her more gently, like a colleague from work who rented a room with him.

That at least he owes her that much.

When she told him about her mother, how she'd pretended that she didn't exist, something snapped inside him once again that evening. He felt that he had to touch her.

That he had feel her.

He fucked her so greedily that he couldn't breathe and she moaned so sweetly, her body tightening around him so wonderfully, that he just came inside her. He forgot about Alys, about his father, about everything.

Then he realized what he had done and locked himself in his bedroom again. He got into bed and just lay there, staring at the ceiling. He wondered how he could do this to Alys.

He had never cheated on her before, never even thought about it. Although they often went to business banquets where there were plenty of pretty, rich girls, he was never tempted by them, feeling their vanity.

He couldn't get the smell of her hair out of his nose, her sweat, her sweet perfume that she had to use before leaving for dinner.

He couldn't forget how hot her thighs and insides felt as he slid inside her, how tight her fleshy walls pressed against him, how fervently she responded to his every thrust. He felt despairingly as his cock throbbed painfully hard in his pants.

He wanted to cry.

In the morning he heard her softly open the door and go into the kitchen. He heard the sound of the fridge opening. He wondered if she would try to talk him into having breakfast with him again. He knew he would not agree.

But she didn't do anything like that. He heard her silently shut herself back into her room a few minutes later. He decided that he had to get up now if he didn't want to be late for work.

This time he went out, took a quick shower and made himself some coffee. He found himself glancing at her room door from the middle of the living room, but she didn't come out to talk to him. He wondered if she was as devastated by what had happened between them as he was.

Resigned, he drove to the office feeling terrible. He thought that he had to tell Alys everything or he would go crazy. He decided that she knew him well enough to see immediately that something was wrong.

He thought of himself so far that he was a good partner and a man. That although he was good at it. It turned out, that he was also crippled in this regard.

He entered the bank's office building, tapping his card, the automatic door beeping open for him. Aegon greeted him inside, hungover as usual, pressing a cold bottle from the vending machine to his forehead. When he saw him, he smiled at him.

“Oh, this is our lucky newlywed. Although your wife has balls in this relationship." He said with a smile as he sat up with a hiss, clutching his head.

"Fuck, my head is about to burst." He spoke low, but Aemond said nothing at all to his words.

He opened his laptop and sighed as he saw ten new e-mails. He was annoyed to see that some of them were Aegon customers, who had been unable to reach him.

"Would you mind finally doing your job, instead of drinking yourself to death every night?" He hissed as he sat down at his desk, going through the papers that his assistant had just laid out for him moments earlier. Aegon rolled his eyes at his words.

"Once you talk to them, once I talk to them, it's teamwork." He said lightly, and Aemond looked him up and down.

He opened his mouth to tell him what he thought of him, but saw Alys through the glass wall walking down the hall. She smiled at him and waved at him. He felt a tightness in his pit. Aegon spoke up, amused.

"Does your wife know that you're fucking her? Or do you do triangles? You'd invite your brother, wouldn't you?" He asked, but Aemond just got up and walked past him, following her out.

He caught up with Alys, and she looked at him, surprised. They determined that they behaved professionally in the office and tried not to talk to each other, with small exceptions for sex in the toilet.

"I want to talk to you. In private." He said low, his jaw clenched. Alys frowned at his tension.

"Something happened?" She asked, looking around.

Aemond took her by the arm, and they both entered one of the storerooms. He closed the door behind him, leaned against a metal bookcase and ran his hands over his face, sighing heavily. Alys looked at him expectantly. He thought it was pathetic, but he wanted to cry.

"I slept with her." He whispered without looking at her, his face still buried in his hands. He heard her inhale sharply. She stopped with her arms folded, he heard her breathing differently.

"She seduced you?" She asked, her voice trembling slightly. He swallowed loudly. He couldn't get the words out that were burning in his throat.

“No.”

There was a long, awkward silence between them. He glanced quickly at Alys and saw that her full, lightly colored lips were twitching slightly.

He couldn't bear to see her suffer.

He knew that he had hurt her.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" She asked and laughed under her breath, but it was laughter through tears. He looked at her with pain.

"I don't know what possessed me." He said, but immediately heard how pathetic it sounded. She shook her head at his words.

"Something possessed you? A demon entered you and suddenly when you regained consciousness, you fucked her?” She asked in pain, trying not to cry, covering her mouth with her hand.

She ran a finger through her lashes, not wanting her makeup to smear. Her entire body was trembling. He didn't dare touch her.

"Why? Because she's younger and prettier?" She asked, and he squeezed his eye shut, feeling that he was about to cry himself.

"No." He whispered weakly, exhaling loudly, feeling he was out of breath. She stared at him in disbelief.

"Can you promise me that this will never happen again? Will you divorce her and it will be as it used to be?" She asked, standing with her arms folded. He cleared his throat, running his hand over his chin.

“In two years this marriage will no longer exist. I promise." He whispered, looking pleadingly at her. Alys pursed her lips.

"Are you kidding me?" She asked in a trembling voice. "Aren't you going to divorce her now?"

Aemond stared at her wide-eyed, completely stunned. He closed and opened his mouth, not knowing what to say.

"You know … you know, what I agreed with my father." He mumbled.

"And what have you agreed with me? It doesn't mean anything anymore? You promised!" She said covering her face.

She shook her head, walked past him and left the room, leaving him alone. He squeezed his eye shut, leaning the back of his head against the bookshelf, trying his best not to start sobbing like a baby.

After work, he returned home. Alys didn't answer his calls, he knew, that she didn't want to see him. The truth was he didn't even have the strength to apologize to her or fight for her forgiveness. He thought it was pathetic, but he decided to leave it like that for now.

When he entered the apartment, he saw that the light was on in the kitchen. He shuddered at the thought that she was there, that they would look at each other for the first time since the thankless night of yesterday.

He walked slowly into the living room, glancing towards the kitchen. He saw her big, frightened eyes, her pursed lips and pale face. She was wearing a crop top and shorts, her hair loose and slightly damp, as if she had just taken a shower. He thought that she'd taken a bath before he got home, so she wouldn't run into him.

"You came back early." She spoke softly, her voice trembling slightly. She sounded like she was explaining why he'd seen her at all.

"I'm going to finish making dinner and go to my room in a minute. It's cauliflower soup, if you feel like it, help yourself." She said, swallowing hard as she turned back to the pot.

He looked at her impassively. Her long, shapely legs, soft, shiny hair. He smelled her shampoo again in his nose, the same smell that he had felt yesterday when he fucked her. He felt his manhood pulse again in his pants.

He thought that he was distraught and desperate.

He had no strength left.

He approached her slowly, saying nothing. She looked at him in surprise over her shoulder, he saw her purse her lips and blush slightly, embarrassed, dropping her gaze. He knew that she was embarrassed by what had happened between them. She couldn't even look at him.

He felt her draw in a sharp breath and jump in place as he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pressing his face against her hair. He felt the warmth of her body, her ass against his hard cock, the scent of her hair and her skin filling his chest again.

He wondered what he was doing, but decided that he just wanted affection. He knew for some reason that she could give him what he needed, and he flocked to her like a moth to a light.

"It's been a terrible, terrible day." He whispered softly, tired and resigned.

He felt her body tremble before him, her breathing ragged. He knew that she felt how hard he was. He heard her swallow loudly. He felt a pleasant shiver as she placed her small hand on his, stroking it gently.

"I know." She whispered just as softly, and for some reason that two words, that warmth that came from her lips, her understanding of his condition made him cry.

He began to sob quietly, unable to stop himself, squeezing his eye tightly. He felt her flinch, all scared. She wanted to turn to him but he wouldn't let her.

He buried his face in her hair, hugging her so tightly, that he felt as if he would strangle her. She wrapped her arms around his, stroking them soothingly.

"Shhh. I know." She said, her voice breaking on the last word.

Only when he heard her quiet sobs did he let her turn towards him, all red with tears, snuggle into his chest. She hugged him so tight that he was out of breath. He threaded his hands into her hair, her fingers tightening on the fabric of his shirt. He pressed his face against her neck, letting his disappointment and tension flow for the first time in many years.

He cried, because he realized that despite having made such a great sacrifice, he had not earned his father's love and respect. His father tricked him by waving it in his face.

He cried, because he had hurt Alys, but he knew,that it wasn't the betrayal that hurt her the most. He couldn't assure her that it wouldn't happen again, because he wasn't sure what was going on between them.

He could imagine the next day with her, but not their old age together. Not their children. He put off getting engaged until he married a total stranger and made her watch.

He cried, because he was overloaded with work and couldn't keep up anymore. He wanted someone to help him, but neither Aegon nor Helaena could do that for him.

Helaena was even mentally weaker than him, and Aegon was totally fucked. Jace and Luke were triumphant, but only because Daemon was putting things under their noses. They never worked for anything on their own, like he did.

He grabbed her by the hips and slowly carried her towards his bedroom. She wrapped her legs around his waist, sniffling loudly, and looked around the room in shock. She couldn't see much from crying, everything was blurry.

Aemond placed her on his bed and lay down next to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest, burying his nose in her hair, stroking her head reassuringly.

He knew that she was crying now too, for her own reasons. He knew that he was one of them. He kissed her forehead, pressing her body tighter against him, wanting to feel her as much as possible.

"Sleep with me tonight."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13

Others: @thedamewithabook @godrakin @snh96 @statixcane @toodlesxcuddles

[thequietkid-moonie]

Ok so I recently found your work and I. Am. In. LOVE. 😍 I was wondering if you could do Karma Akabane with a very cat-like reader? I'm talking someone who isn't fast to trust but clings to the few people they like. Or like constantly taking naps and yet is somehow always on top of their game when it comes to assassination or academics? If not that's cool though.😊😊

Karma with a cat-like crush

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Karma Akane ]

[ Assassination Classroom / Anatsu Kyoshitsu ]

Idk why but I got emotional haha

I ended up loving it, I hope you like it as much as I do

Karma is really smart and observant, is probably that since the start he had noticed you, although since at first he was more prideful and a little arrogant he didn't give you much importance, what could lead you to don't trust him at first neither

But as the classes pass by and the assassin training win more importance is where you get the oportunity to show your skills and true potential, however at first were everyone who where amased by your great reflections and elegant movements

Karma is competitive and rather prideful, specially at first so seeing someone that could be better that him it bother him (but he tries to hide it, he won't let you see him like this), he will try to approach you to challenge you, directly or indirectly, but accept is your choise, at the end he will still really interested on you (if you accepted and win it would be more out of frustration)

And when he start to notice how good you are with academics too your rivality just increase, you are getting in his prideful side and his challenging attitude increase. With this he isn't giving you a really good impresion, and you two probably were only related by the rivality for a while, but after some time he just start to get more curious about you wanting to know more outside of the challenges even when he doesn't express it, now more than a rivality he wants a friendship

He noticed how you seem more relaxed and even cling to the people you trust, contrary of how you act with others being just polite, even with him you just act either defiantly or just ignore him (depending on if you like challenges or not), so he knows that if he wants to approach to relate with you in a more friendly way he needs to win your trust first

The more you are bothered by his challenging and prideful attitude the more difficult will be for him to approach to you, and the more obvious will start to be for others his intention too, although is more probably that the ones who notice will be Nagisa and Koro-sensei, who offers to help him if he fails to get close to you

Although Karma is stubborn and since his personality is pretty charming it won't take much time for him to win your trust and become your friend, and with that he had the opportunity to get to know you better

Karma actually likes that you cling onto him, that means that you trust him the most, that flattered him and make him feel proud, and as the time pass by and he start to fall in love with you he just loves more that you cling onto him, he sometimes needs time for himself or maybe you just go with someone else but in those moments he end up missing your presence, he gets so used to you clinging to him that when you aren't with him he feels like something is missing

Also he can be pretty jealous when you cling to someone else, not matter if is someone of the group or not, he likes that you trust in others too but he can't stop himself from getting jealous, specially if you are affectionate, the first few times he got jealous by it he didn't hide it too well, those who pay close attention or know him well can easily see that something bothers him

He finds pretty funny that you like to take naps so frecuently or that you can fall sleep wherever, at first he just let you be and leave you alone, but after some time when he finds you sleeping he sits beside you and just make you company, he prefers when is just the two of you because that way no one will see how his expression softens, how his smile sweetly at the view of you sleeping peaceful or how he likes to play with your hair and pat your head softly from time to time

He doesn't mind if you wake up and see him there, he can easily came up with an excuse, saying that he is just looking after you since you are being so careless to fall sleep, and if you ever came to him because you wanted to nap beside him he will be so flustered but he hide it and let you do it, he says that he doesn't care but it actually mean a lot for him

He tease you a lot for your cat-like personality, always putting you nicknames that are relate to cats and making jokes like asking you to not purr

The rivality part never really goes away, but it lose importance after a while and just become a thing between you two, just challenging and making bets to each other as friends

With some time his crush become obvious and at first he was annoyed by it (specially when his classmates tease him), but after some time he just don't mind anymore, and even when he doesn't accept directly to others he doesn't deny it neither, and he isn't planning to confess right now mainly because he likes to play around

[starshipsofstarlord]

pretty eyes (3)

summary. picking up where you left off isn’t always the easiest thing to proceed with, especially when you and daryl are still bickering. but there are ways to make amends

warnings. smut, fingering, a lottt of making out, swearing, slapping, brief angst

a/n. again there will be another part, i apologise for this having taken so long 🖤

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

He was rough yet tender as he cupped your face, his thumbs tracing the structure of your jawline as his mouth devoured your own, the broad and crisp sunlight bringing heat to your skin. Your noses traced back and forth together, your heavy breaths became one notion of inhaling and exhaling. There wasn’t a thought surpassing your mind as you physically reconciled after your stubborn disdain at one another, moulding together as though you could melt after the other’s touch.

Alas you were forced to part from the oxygen that your lungs required, and you breathed heavily, your chest rising in a rapid motion as the two of you wordlessly stared at one another. His pupils were transformed into an enlarged size, there wasn’t anything that could surpass the silence that brooded scornfully between you, as neither of you both were sure on how to proceed. You could feel the swollen lining around your lips, and you bit nervously at it, attempting to scratch an itch to make the quiet around you less tense.

“Shoul’n’t a done tha’.” Daryl stated, however he seemed less appalled by the contact that you had made than he had shown previously. His cerulean orbs raked across your face as his feet jaggedly trudged backwards, committing some distance from you. He felt almost drunk from your kiss, and that made him feel absurdly foolish. It wasn’t in his nature to be so astounded by a simple touch, but it was definitely affecting him.

His pulse raced in the depths of his flesh, and his bloodstream pounded heavily in his ears as he awaited for your response, hoping that you would agree with him. It was a mistake, one that certainly shouldn’t happen again. Those damning eyes of yours were distracting him from his shield of resentment, and he tried to shun them from his sight, however you were staring straight ahead at him, which made it defiantly impossible.

“Daryl,” the sound of his name escaping your plush lips had him desperate to hear it fall from your lips over and over… No. He wasn’t some idiot that was willing to fall head over heels, he was simply attracted to your physical form, that was all that it could be. It was all that he would allow it to be. He never wanted anyone close, he’d be a pussy as Merle would call him if he had any feeling for you and his brother were here.

“Don’ got time for this.” He remarked as he swiftly turned around with the purpose of getting as far away from you as possible, however he hadn’t anticipated for you to follow him like a lost lamb, with a frown written upon your face. “Why the hell ya followin’ me? Huh, ain’t no one else yer wanna fuck ‘round here?” In truth, he’d inwardly resent it if you shacked up with one of the other men in your group, but he’d silence the qualms he’d have with your sexual relations.

“Honestly, no.” You crossed your arms once again, and he battled with looking in your eyes to your raised breasts, sucking in a much needed breath. “But again that’s not why I’m here Dixon, we have to sort this tension between us out; and I didn’t come on my own accord, Shane sent me here for the sake of the rest of the group. It’s not about me and you screwing, it’s about being civil. I think we can do just about that, right?”

Daryl scoffed, shaking his head. “Ya listening to Shane now.” He laughed mockingly and you rolled your eyes at his behaviour, already wishing you hadn’t bothered. You were prepared to stalk away, and so to relent from this dispersive attitude you were being given, you headed to the woods, touching your side in a double checking fashion for your blade. Yes, you had it. You were all good to go, and escape this hellish debacle. The trees surrounded you, hiding you in their shrubbery and shading of leaves as you tried to clear your head. “Ya tryna get yourself killed or somethin’ woman?”

Of course he had followed you, but you raggedly shook out your hair, ignoring him. He had wanted you gone, to leave him be in his solidarity, and the next moment he had trailed after you, in a marching stride as he recalled you to return back to the campsite that you had set up on the farm. “No.” You blankly stated, you weren’t stupid and knew damn well how to defend yourself. “No I’m not Daryl. You wanted me to leave you alone so that’s what I’m doing. So go back to being by yourself, you don’t owe me anything.”

“Wait. Just hold up a second.” He sighed, stalking alongside you to make your steps pause. “I- uh, I jus’, fuck you woman.” He closed his eyes, as your palm collided with the side of his face and the sting blossomed upon his cheek. The man was a little taken aback, but he shouldn’t have expected any different for his last words. Daryl was full of copious frustration, and he was done with it. “Fuck it.” With his body weight he grasped you by the shoulders, leading you backwards until you were trapped between him and a tall shot of bark.

You were furious, but all discretions were smothered into dismal whining as Daryl pressed against you, his mouth hungrily colliding with your own. Your eyes were closed as you could do nothing but reciprocate his motions, licking into his mouth with vigour as his hands strewed in your hair. He became lost in your kiss, as he allowed one of his hands to grapple down and pledge your ass in his grip. His administration caused a gasp to shatter from your lips as you allowed him to do as he pleased, his hands worked desperately at the fly of your faded and worn jeans as he began to pull the denim down.

“This is definitely a way we might be able to get along.” Inherently you mumbled as you felt lips and teeth tug at the flesh of your neck, and you hadn’t even thought of him leaving bruising marks along your throat. A pleased moan fell deliriously from your lips as you felt his rough hand slide into your cotton panties, feeling your cunt over as he stroked his ring finger against entrance. He ensured you were wet enough before he plunged it inside of you, and when he did your eyes flew open.

As he licked his lips in concentration, he became adherent to anything other than your eyes, even with his wrist continuing to move to prompt you pleasure. “Such pretty eyes.” He muttered to himself, allowing a soft smile to capture his mouth for a moment as he brought you to the brink of pleasure, slipping another finger inside of you. Your eyes were blow wide like those of a deer, and you grabbed at his arm, lips gaping open as you released silent moans, restraining all noise if there were any walkers nearby.

“Daryl.” His name burned like an ember on your lips, and he was compelled to capture them again, as your hands caressed wantonly down his body, grabbing at the prominent bulge he wore beneath his clothing. This was a sure way to reconcile your arrogance towards one another, and you were futilely desperate for more.

[axelsagewrites]

Their reaction to seeing the Barbie movie with you

Includes (in order): jamie, jon, drogo, obryen, podrick, ramsay, robb, sandor, theon, tormund, tyrion, arya, brienne, danerys, margery, sansa, yara, aegon, aemond, daemon, jace, alicent, baela, rhaena, rhaenyra

Word count: 952

Masterlist Here

GoT Boys

Jamie - he practically refused to go up till the last second then finally caved but once the movie starts, he starts tearing up because he also does not feel Kenenough

Jon – he defiantly was the one to ask to go see the movie but insists to all his friends he’s going because you wanted to

Khal Drogo – agrees to go on the condition of seeing Oppenheimer before but the only thing he talks about for the following week is barbie

Obryen – it was your idea for the tickets but his for the matching pink outfits and photoshoot beforehand and he definitely rolls his eyes at anyone who sees Oppenheimer instead

Podrick – desperate to see barbie with you and is excited the whole week leading up to it. he’s already buying tickets for next week as your leaving the theatre

Ramsay - you both argue about whether to see Oppenheimer or barbie and eventually it gets settled by agreeing to see the separate movies at the same time as long as he gets you a large popcorn as punishment for having no taste

Robb – doesn’t get the fuss at first but as soon as he is sat in the cinema chair, he is mesmerised by the movie

Sandor – if you think this man would be caught dead sitting watching barbie, you’d be sorely mistaken. however, that’s mostly because he hates leaving the house, but he will pirate the movie and watch it on the sofa with you

Theon – makes fun of the movie constantly and says you should go see Oppenheimer instead but when you get to the theatre, he’s sheepishly holding two barbie tickets

Tormund – buys the tickets for you before you even ask and hypes up your pink barbie outfit, buys himself a bright pink t-shirt and just goes for the good vibes

Tyrion – goes with you unashamed and in a bright pink suit insisting if he was in barbie world, he’d be a barbie or at least an Allan not just another Ken

GoT Girls

Arya – insists it can’t be that good and even pretends to hate it but the next day she sneaks off to go see it again alone and then you end up finding a new barbie she bought in her room

Brienne – she felt a bit embarrassed about going at first, but she ended up relating to the movie so much that she cried and bought herself a barbie dream house to heal her inner child

Daenerys – she didn’t think she’d like it since she has more of a horror vibe however once it starts, she starts tearing up and secretly loves it

Margery – she bought out like half the cinema getting tickets for her and her squad and plans matching outfits for everyone to go in and makes 1000 TikTok’s about the whole thing

Sansa – she has been planning this since the movie was announced and is ready with a Pinterest board of outfits for you to pick with

Yara – defiantly put up a fight and wanted to see Oppenheimer instead but she is a sucker for you and eventually agrees and pretends she didn’t love it afterwards even though barbie is now all she can think about

HotD Boys

Aegon – all he talks about is barbie which mainly started to wind Aemond but when you offered to get tickets he jumped at the chance and started taking it seriously to the point of buying a custom “I’m the ken, they’re barbie” shirt with a pink arrow pointing at you

Aemond – he really wanted to see Oppenheimer first, but he cannot say no to you so finally caved and went with you, but he was on the edge of his seat all night and you missed the first 10 minutes of Oppenheimer since he wouldn’t stop talking about barbie

Daemon – when you tell him you want to go, he ends up pulling strings and tells you that you’re going to the official premier by giving you a brand new custom pink dress and even rocks up in a pink suit to match

Jace – this man bought these tickets the first day they were listed and is defending Margot Robbie online when he is not gushing to you how amazing it was and how good your barbie premier outfit was

HotD girls

Alicent – she tried to play it off cool as if it weren’t her thing but was secretly thrilled you asked her to go however, she only played it cool till opening credits started and she squealed in excitement

Baela – you didn’t think she’d be too interested since she was more of a tom boy than her sister but she surprised you by whipping out the massive box of barbies from her closet from her childhood when she begged you to go with her even though you had already said yes like twenty times

Rhaena –she has been playing the barbie sound track over and over, crying at half the songs and dancing with you around the house to the next so you bet your ass she went to watch it on the premier day Heleana – for some reason she was really nervous to ask you to go with her but when she did you of course said yes, and she started planning a pastel pink outfit and ordered you both custom barbie earrings from Esty

Rhaenyra – she was down to see it, even getting the best seats in advance for you but she did not expect it to heal her inner child so much since she stopped playing with barbies after her mother died since she thought her mum looked like barbie

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy @valeskafics

A/n: Take a moment to appreciate how many god damn tags I had to type to the point I maxed it out and had to try cut the tags down! Anyway live laugh barbie

[coalswriting]

soccer stares - shauna shipman

summary - (y/n) didn't want to watch the last big soccer match of the season, but thanks to some misfortune, she wasn't given much of a choice (approx 1.6k words)

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

being related to coach ben had its perks. you were able to get out of doing pe for the year, instead opting to ‘help him in the office’ (doing homework). you could also hide in his office when you felt too tired to go to class, though he often scolded you for it. still, you were his little sister and he loved you to bits, so at the end of the day, he always gave in. however, ben was as annoying as he was sweet. he always asked you to try out for the school’s ladies’ soccer team, yellowjackets, and every time he asked you, you would say no almost immediately. you were naturally talented at soccer, but you were also extremely reserved, preferring to read or people watch instead of running around in sweaty, short uniforms. the last time you had played, you must’ve been twelve. you were forced to join a soccer club because of your brother’s ties to the sport, and you complained every. single. practice session. truly, you had no interest in the sport, and you wished you could have nothing to do with it.

one morning, your car broke down on the way to school. everything had been fine, and suddenly, smoke began pooling out of the hood. stopping on the side of the road, you quickly jumped out of the vehicle, checking out the problem. “stupid piece of junk…”, you murmured irritatingly, being unable to pinpoint the cause of the smoke.

you arrived at school an hour late that day. between waiting for your car to be towed, and then having to walk the remaining distance, you were already annoyed. the day was getting off to a horrible start, and now you had to find ben, wherever he was.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“yeah, of course i can give you a lift home,” ben nodded curtly, leaning against the door to the staff room, “but you know there’s a big match today?”

“ughhh,” you groaned, suddenly understanding why everyone was walking around with yellow and blue painted on their cheeks, “that’s fine, i can just sit in your office until it’s over.”

“no, (y/n), i actually want you to watch the game if that’s okay,” he smiled, as your eyebrows rose in shock.

“is this some weird attempt at you trying to recruit me again?”, you deadpanned, crossing your arms defiantly. you didn’t really mind watching the game, but you had already heard about enough soccer from living with your brother, let alone him trying to convince you to join all the time.

ben shook his head no before replying, “no, it’s just the biggest game of the season. i want as much support for the girls as possible – they’ve been practicing so hard all year. now, no excuses! see you at the game! i’ll leave a spot at the very front of the bleachers open for you.”

before you could reply with some sarcastic remark, ben swung the door of the office open, walking in. you stood for a second, grimacing at the idea of sitting at the front before snapping back into reality. “wait—ben!! I need a late slip!”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

you begrudgingly sat on your reserved seat as students whistled and chattered amongst themselves. it was quite chilly, considering the time of year, and you felt yourself shiver, pulling your hoodie over yourself. the sky was a beautiful shade of blue with a few odd clouds scattered within it. the sun shone brightly behind you, heating your back up.

you wondered what the girls were doing right now - they were probably in the changing rooms, doing each other’s hair, singing, dancing to music, and bantering. you almost envied it, longing for a close friendship with a team. suddenly, you were pulled out of your thoughts by a pair of two fingers sliding across your cheeks.

“hey!”, you shrieked as your brother laughed, pulling himself away from you before you could punch his arm.

“just popping some paint on you! lighten up and show some support!”, he chuckled, “it’ll be over before you know it.”

almost immediately after, eleven girls ran onto the field in a line. the crowd erupted into a loud cheer as students whistled, screamed, and waved their arms enthusiastically. then the second team ran onto the field, eliciting slightly less enthusiastic cheers. their coach walked over to ben, giving him a firm handshake and began to introduce himself. you watched your brother for a brief moment before focusing on the girls. they chatted amongst themselves, laughing on occasion.

eventually, ben huddled them together and began to talk strategy with them. before you knew it, the game began. there was a ginger girl in the goals, watching the ball intensely. your eyes began to scan the other teammates, noticing a tall, pretty girl with brown hair and curtain bangs, a bleach blonde girl who looked way too alternative to be playing soccer, and then your eyes fell on her. number six. she had dark brown hair with sharp cheekbones. you studied her as if she was a painting, following her as she dashed through the field, dominating the other team with her impressive footwork. she stood out from all the other players, and you couldn’t help but stare. eventually, your worst nightmare came through, her making eye contact with you she was brushing sweaty loose hairs out of her face. she winked at you, smirking a little, and oh no, you melted. she looked like a goddess. you fidgeted with the hems of your hoodie as she got back into the spirit of things, sprinting towards the ball again, much to the dismay of the opposing team.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

once half-time hit, your brother approached you, snapping you out of your longing staring. he followed your gaze, laughing when he noticed number six. “up you get,” he stated, pulling you up by your arm.

“huh?,” you shook your head, looking at him.

“you’re going to hand out water to the team while i go and talk with coach martinez. chop chop!”, he gave you a gentle slap on the back, then turned to talk to his coworker. you grimaced, grabbing the case of waters, and approaching the girls who were all huddled together near a bench. your hands quickly grew sweaty as you walked closer towards number six. you were not mentally prepared to communicate with other people, let alone such an attractive person.

“girls, water!”, number nine announced, turning around towards you. ten more pairs of eyes followed suit, and you suddenly felt extremely small under the pressure of silence. each girl took their turn collecting a water off you, thanking you every time. last but not least, number six came over.

“you’re coach ben’s sister, right?”, she started. upon your affirming nod, she smiled, “awesome! i’m shauna. it’s lovely to finally meet you. he always talks about you.”

“he does?,” you mumbled, barely able to verbalise your words. she was too beautiful, you decided, and at this point, you were doing to fumble her. “what does he say about me?”

“oh,” she giggled, “he just complains about how you won’t join the team. i imagine you hear enough of it at home.”

you looked at her for a moment before sighing, “yeah. soccer’s just not my thing. i wish he’d lay off.”

she nodded along and listened to you as you went on a mini rant. after about thirty seconds, you snapped to your senses, suddenly coming to a stop. your cheeks grew rosy, and you felt yourself become small and uncomfortable in your own shoes. shauna rubbed your upper arm reassuringly, causing you to feel electricity course through your spine. she looked you in the eyes with her intense brown orbs, grinning gently. “soccer’s not your thing, huh?,” she batted her eyelashes, “i don’t know about that, you seemed pretty engrossed in watching me.”

“i.. uhh… err…”, your brain short circuited as you completely forgot how to talk. you looked like a deer in the headlights, causing shauna to smirk devilishly.

“your name?”

“huh?”, you said, before suddenly realising you never introduced yourself. “shit! i’m (y/n).”

she burst into laughter as you spluttered a poor introduction, placing a hand on your shoulder to ground you. “take it easy, it’s all good. i’m only messing with you.”

“i know, i’m sorry. i don’t know what’s gotten into me,” you explain, not wanting to tell the breathtaking brunette that you were feeling Very Gay Thoughts about her.

she finally calmed down, leaning against you as her frame shook from her unsteady breaths; a consequence of laughing so hard. you smiled sheepishly at the ginger girl you saw in the goals earlier as she raised an eyebrow at you. she elbowed her teammate, another girl with gorgeous frizzy brown hair donning the number eight on her jumper, who followed her line of sight. the two of them watched you and shauna sweetly for a moment, before continuing their conversation.  

suddenly, you heard the loud shriek of a whistle as coach ben and coach martinez strutted over. “okay girls!”, ben announced, “huddle!”

shauna gave you a final look. “looks like it’s time for me to go. it was lovely meeting you, (y/n), and i can’t wait to see you watch me at future practices. cute face paint, by the way.”

before you could reply, she ruffled your hair, her hand lingering for a moment. she then left you standing there, jogging towards her team. your entire face must’ve turned a deep crimson shade, as you suddenly became aware of the cool breeze around you. recollecting yourself, you turned on your heel to return to the spot you had previously sat in, excited to watch the remainder of the game.

maybe driving home with ben wasn’t the worst of ideas after all. from there on, you knew that you would watch every single practice and match if it meant being able to admire the pretty brunette again.

[dyaz-stories]

oh gosh i just want to say that i really admire your works and how perfectly youre able to portray hyun-su !! i always get immersed in the story, you are genuinely such a great writer !! <3

Thank you so much for saying that!! Hyun-Su is such a lovely character to write and I'm so glad you're enjoying my take on him. on a tangentially related note, it's very funny to see so many fellow stays and other kpop stans following me since i've started writing for him, hadn't realized there was such a crossover between kpop and kdrama fans lol, though i guess i should have 😁

Anyway, I've written around 2k words for my next piece on him today, so here's a snippet featuring Hyun-Su's monster! Hope you enjoy it!

He shoots you a grin that makes you knees weak, and, as his blue eyes stare straight into yours, you finally understand what is going on.

You remember too well the state he was in last time you saw this— well— version of him, and your eyes run over his body, followed by your hands, checking for injuries. But while his sweater is in worst shape than usual, and you find blood that you think is fresh on there, his skin is intact under your fingers.

When you look into his eyes again, you find him staring at you, amused.

“You can keep going,” he teases. Your face starts burning and you take a step back, embarrassed, but he follows right after you, eyes devouring you. “Come on, you know you want to. Why not just give in?”

Your back hits the wall, and he leans closer, like a cat playing with a mouse. The difference is, though your heart is hammering in your chest, you don’t feel that scared. Nervous, sure, but there is no actual threat to his tone, or even to his attitude.

“I’m not— I’m not doing anything Hyun-Su wouldn’t want,” you answer, and you somehow find it in yourself to lift your chin defiantly as you do.

Meeting this version of Hyun-Su’s eyes sends a rush of heat through you once again. Beneath the amusement, there is so much more. Fascination. Adoration, even.

He lets out a brief laugh at your words.

“Please,” he practically purrs, “you can’t think that he doesn’t want this.” You stare at him, and his grin widens. “Maybe you should ask him, then.” He leans closer to you, mouth so close to your ear you can feel his breath tickling your cheek. “Ask him what he thinks about when he’s alone at night.” Your cheeks are on fire. “Ask him what he thinks about when you’re lying in bed next to him.” Your breath catches in your throat. “Ask him what he thinks of doing to you.”

He laughs again, and Lord, you don’t know how your legs haven’t given up underneath you yet.

“Come back to me if he still doesn’t have the guts to do anything,” he whispers in your ear. “For now, I think we’ll take a nap.”

That’s all the warning you get before he collapses into you and you can do nothing but slide down to the floor, holding Hyun-Su’s now unconscious body in your arms.

Full one-shot here (NSFW)

[inamindfarfaraway]

What are your thoughts on Duela Dent? Specifically her Pre-Crisis backstory—before she was retconned to not even being related to Harvey for Some Reason. I think there could be some interesting themes about generational trauma and how his own childhood severely impacted Harvey’s relationship with his own daughter.

Harvey and Gilda having a kid who becomes a superhero to try to redeem her heritage is a great concept, and like a lot of great concepts, DC dropped it down the drain. But that’s what fanon is for! There’s so much you can explore with Duela. If I were to remake her myself, I’d do away with the whole Joker’s Daughter and Harlequin identities, at least after the initial phase of her trying to get Batman’s attention by pretending to be other supervillains’ daughter; and instead have her reflect Harvey and Two-Face’s themes of duality and justice. Like, maybe her heroic identity has a Lady Justice theme with a symbol of scales, a sword for a weapon and a tied domino mask with coloured lenses to mimic a blindfold. Or maybe she defiantly avoids all things duality-related to disown her father’s evil legacy, only to later incorporate her own version of it as she accepts him as a part of her. It doesn’t feel right to have her so associated with the Joker and similar to Harley Quinn when she isn’t even related to them, especially when they’re both very popular and present in DC already (in the Joker’s case, far more than he deserves). Let’s keep her a Dent first and foremost.

Anyway, onto the relationships! I like the idea that Harvey and Gilda wanted kids and them trying before the acid attack and turning out to have succeeded after the dad is a crime lord or in Arkham Asylum is so perfectly tragic. Maybe Harvey “Definitely Not Hanging on by a Thread” Dent wants to be a dad partly, subconsciously to prove to himself that he can be the opposite of his father, to create the ultimate proof that he isn’t doomed to fail and suffer and ruin everything he touches, that he’s capable of having a healthy, happy family and can handle his C-PTSD just fucking fine. In essence, to ‘redeem’ and stick it to his own terrible childhood and paternal heritage. The cycle of generational trauma can’t have that much power over him if he breaks it, can it? No more power than Gotham’s cycle of violence and corruption will have once he, Bats and Gordon take the streets back for the people! A nice work/personal life parallel that mirrors how Bruce doesn’t stop thinking like Batman when he takes the cowl off. But then the trial happens. And then Gilda misses her period. And now Harvey, unable to find a way out of perpetuating Gotham’s vicious cycle, is an absent father with an ever-growing criminal record who perpetuates his familial one. He passes that whole toxic mindset down to his child. He loves her so much and hates that he’s failing her! It’s just that you can’t hate yourself into a better person, so the ‘Oh God, I’m becoming my father’ stress on top of everything else wrong with him actually makes him spiral lower faster.

Two-Face, I believe, loves Gilda as much as Harvey does (though she doesn’t seem to love him back). I’d imagine he loves Duela too. I bet Duela is the only thing both he and Harvey can ignore the coin for. Two-Face loves in a particularly “If anything happens to her, I will kill everyone in Gotham and then myself” way. Of course, he makes things happen to her. Growing up with your dad, or his alter or whatever, committing murder and terrorism and such on the news is not fun. She could easily be bullied because of Harvey and Two-Face. So she would really resent them, especially the more immoral Two-Face, before gaining a more objective, nuanced understanding of them and struggling to reconcile how awful her daddy issues have felt her entire life with the causes of them being sympathetic and not beyond rehabilitation. When she becomes a superhero, does she avoid Gotham to avoid them? Does she never go on patrol while Two-Face is at large? Or does she seek the system out for catharsis, or the desperate, painful need to know her father in any capacity? Do they have incredibly awkward fights? The drama writes itself, but there’s a lot of comic potential too.

Duela: Dad, for fuck’s sake, go to therapy.

Two-Face: That’s my girl! We’re so proud of you, sweetheart! I mean, the way you took out my best muscle, that was amazing.

Duela: (rolls her eyes) Therapy. Now.

Two-Face, still robbing the bank: Right, right. In a minute. And don’t stay out too late again. It’s a school night. A little bit of financial redistribution really doesn’t have to be your problem, you know. Just saying.

Henchman: I didn’t know you had a daughter, boss. Seeing you act like this is so -

Two-Face: Finish that sentence and you’ll get a closed-casket funeral.

Duela: Dad!

Two-Face: Sorry. It can be open casket.

Duela: (sighs) Put your gun down and stop stealing the public’s money, or I will start vaping to cheer myself up.

Two-Face: Alright, Jesus! I’m coming!

Does he kill innocent people, sells drugs and guns and torture the Batkids without losing any sleep over it? Yes. Is he absolutely horrified by the thought of his little girl being unhappy? Also yes. Will he stop doing the aforementioned activities that she’s unhappy about? …Later. After she’s done all her homework.

Everything about Gilda is underdeveloped in canon, but she’s usually depicted as unconditionally loving Harvey despite his crimes. Having a child to worry about complicates that. The Dent system are in no condition to coparent. They might even be dangerous, if not directly. Completely cutting your husband out of your life is hard and could hurt your daughter, but so could taking her to visit him in Arkham every weekend. Offering your heart is one thing, exposing your kid’s is another. The conspicuously on-theme name Duela sticks out to me. Did Harvey, newly fixated on duality, get to name her? Was that a concession Gilda gave him while they were arranging for him to have little to no involvement in her life? Does Gilda tell Duela stories about the good in Harvey and their past together? How comfortable is she discussing who he’s become? Is she willing to forgive, or perhaps rather put aside, every atrocity the system could possibly commit except deliberately hurting their daughter? What happens if somehow one of them crosses that line?

One thing I don’t need to question is that Duela is the ultimate mother’s girl. If a villain threatens Gilda to get to her, so help them. She might have no interest in law because look how well taht career turned out for, but be an avid artist, in Gilda’s field of sculpting and/or different mediums. Art can be very therapeutic, after all. And Duela undoubtedly needs therapy. (“I’ll go back to Arkham if you talk to the school counsellor tomorrow!” “I’m not killing people!” “That’s no excuse!”) You could have a fun contrast between her having an archetypical creative type’s disorganized, expressive, eccentric personality as a civilian and her serious vigilante persona being all about rationality, clarity and balance. Chaos and order in one. Her costume and equipment could even be black and white while her art and casual clothes are brightly coloured.

[gx-gameon]

Gx season 2 trip to Domino city in Yugi raising Jaden au

The funniest part will have to be when they take a field trip to Domino city.

Like all of Jaden’s friends are pumped! Sure there is an evil cult trying to take over the school, but the home town of Yugi Muto, Seto Kaiba, Joey Wheeler, and the Battle City tournament! This is awesome! It will be such a nice break.

Syrus and Hassleberry are so excited to run around the city. To see all the iconic places from the original battle city. They are also competing to be Jaden’s best friend. They are going to show Jaden all the cool spots because Jaden loves dueling and Battle city was the most iconic tournament ever. Obviously Jaden will love seeing the city.

Jaden is not excited. He grew up in this city and while he’s he loves dueling and the og Battle City is iconic, he grew up hearing the story from the people who dueled in it. He thinks this is his Oto-san’s idea. Bringing the whole school to their home town so he can fight the evil cult himself on his own turf is absolutely a Seto Kaiba move.

But he doesn’t put it past his Oto-san to dramatically reveal Jaden as his son in front of the whole school. Jaden wants it to be a secret until he is ready to tell his friends. He never wants the whole school to know.

But watching his Oto-san, Dad, Uncles, and Aunts wreck the evil cult possessing all of his friends would be awesome. Like it would be nice to not have to worry anymore, to have a normal year with all of his friends. And if the price is revealing his family relations than it’s a small price to pay.

Syrus and Hasselberry and talking his ear off the whole boat ride over and Jaden is emotionally preparing himself for his Oto-San and Uncle Mokuba meeting them at the docks.

Imagine his surprise when they’re not there. No one from his family meets them at the docks. Thats weird.

Even weirder when he finds out that they’re not even in the city, or country. They’re all playing in a tournament in Germany. Which means either this trip was not schedualed by his family and they didn’t know about it, (because there’s no way one of them wouldn’t have stayed behind to ‘bump’ into Jaden and his friends (Joey or Atem) or just straight up hijack the field trip (Seto and Mokuba)) or they did know it was happening and Yugi, the awesome Dad that he is, got all of their relatives out of the city so that Jaden would be left alone. But that only makes sense if they didn’t know about the cult. Jaden’s got a lot to think about.

Syrus and Hasselberry drag him all over the city trying to impress him with different spots of battle city but Jaden is busy thinking about the cult and his family’s mysterious absence. What if the cult got to them to?

He’s starting to get worried when Syrus drags them towards Kame game shop. Where they run into Solomon.

And for a split second Jaden panics. Because his Great grandpa loves him, there is no way he’s going to keep Jaden’s identity a secret.

Solomon who remembers how many people tried to kidnap Mokuba through out the years. How many people went after his grandson for both being the king of games and being Seto’s boyfriend and later husband. How important Jaden’s privacy is to both his parents. And how important Jaden’s secret is to him.

If there’s one thing Grandpa Moto isn’t, it’s a snitch. But he’s also a horrible liar. So he just acts super senile.

But he joins the boys on their little journey though the city, telling them stories of battle city and other adventures. But at one point he defiantly sends Syrus and Hasselberry on a wild goose chase (something about booster packs) so he can look at his great grandson and ask “what are you doing here?”

Very quickly they put together that; no this was not a trip planned or approved by the Kaiba family. There should be no field trip right now. That means that the cult planned it. What cult? The cult that’s possessing all of Jaden’s friends and classmates and trying to take over the world.

The rest of the field trip carries on as cannon and Jaden and his friends go back to duel academy.

Solomon immediately calls Yugi. “How was the tournament?”

“It was good. I won.”

“I had no doubt, by the way you’ll never guess who came into the store the other day.”

“Who grandpa?”

“Your son.”

Cue Yugi putting him on speaker because what is Jaden doing in town when he’s supposed to be to be at Duel academy???? Seto, Atem, Joey, Mokuba, Mai, and anyone who had traveled with them are all gathered around the phone listening as Solomon tells them everything.

The evil cult

The unapproved field trip

Jaden and his friends getting stuck in a digital world (where have I heard that before)

Seto is ready to storm the school and fire everyone. But the Genex tournaments about to begin at the school and they can’t interfere with it. They have to trust Jaden. But that doesn’t mean they can’t go as ‘Spectators’ and if thing go sideways or Jaden needs them to step in they will.

(They get there just in time to watch Jaden fight a copy of the wing dragon of Ra. All the battle city vets freak out!!)

[missmaywemeetagain]

Broken Glass Chapter 7 💔🥂❤️‍🩹

A/N: And we're back, babies!! ❤️‍🩹 Thank you for being so patient and also thanks to those of you who've checked out and joined my new Patreon already--y'all are the bee's knees and I'm so so grateful for your support!! (Head's up--There's a lot of great extras coming on Patreon soon related to Pink Scarf, the Scarf Universe, and other new series!💗)

If you didn't get in on the early access on Patreon, here's the next installment for Dolores and Elvis! I really wanted to show how vulnerable Lori is feeling while trying to navigate her first night at Graceland and how Elvis responds to that, especially after Chapter 6. Let's just say you are in for a big dose of hurt/comfort...🥰

As always, thank you so much my darlin's for your support on here and other platforms as I work on growing as a professional writer! I couldn't do it without you! ❤️ While I currently am posting in various places, I may be streamlining things in the future towards Patreon and (*hint hint*) my future website. 🎉 (Don't worry though--many stories will still be free!!)

TW: panic/anxiety, shame, allusions to previous sexual assault, nightmare-related violence/blood, vomit, references to previous sexual activities, lots of hurt/comfort! Mature 18+

Everything is wrong.

You watch helplessly as Elvis stands bravely before an enemy army that stretches so far into the distance that the soldiers meld together into one dark entity. He is alone, with shoulders squared and chest puffed out defiantly, but you can see that his chest is heaving too quickly.

He can’t breathe, yet he needs to fight.

You scream his name. The sound is swallowed and dies before it can reach him. That horrible army advances, and heart dropping, you break out into run. Every part of your body screams for him as you try to get to there, but it’s as if you are slogging through mud in slow motion.

“I have to help him…have to help him! SOMEBODY HELP HIM!” your mind cries helplessly.

The horde descends.

Elvis disappears as they heap on top of him. The sound of them tearing him to pieces is too much to bear.

You gasp, swallowing air that doesn’t seem to reach your lungs. Sorrow aches through you with such force you feel as though you’re going to split in two.

No, no, no, no…

Your stomach cramps as though you’ve been punched there. You double over with pain, squeezing your eyes shut as if that will make it all go away.

Everything is wrong.

When you open your eyes again, you’re back in your bedroom, in New York, but it’s as it was when you were a child, your dolls and toys and petal pink bedsheets on display. When it used to be home and not a dreary husk with four walls.

Elvis barrels through the door as though running from something, still in his green army uniform. He slams the door behind him, turning the lock.

“Thank god, you’re alive!” you gasp, but he doesn’t take notice of your words. He’s too busy searching the room for something.

“Elvis. Elvis! What are you looking for?”

“We have to go, Little Bird.” He’s struggling to breathe again, you can tell. The hope you feel from seeing him alive dissipates as your heart starts to pound with dread.

“Go? Go where? Why?” He doesn’t stop. “Elvis, you need to rest!”

“But they’re coming.” His blue eyes lock onto yours with such intensity your reply catches in your throat.

“Who? Who’s coming?” is what you try to say, but you can’t get it out before the door bursts inward, splinters of wood fracturing around you.

Gianni appears, sauntering in too casually, his eyes black and depthless as obsidian. “Oh, Bella, Bella, Bella,” he tsks venomously, his mouth spreading into a hideous grin. All his teeth are razor sharp and pointed, glistening scarlet with blood. “You’ve been a naughty little fidanzata.” He steps closer.

Horror courses through your veins. You recoil and stumble backwards and your heart begins to race incredibly fast. You try to speak, to scream, anything that might get Gianni to leave, but your panting breaths prevent anything from getting out.

“Lil’ Lo’, don’t ya worry now, it’s all gonna be okay,” Elvis says in his lilting Southern drawl, turning to you. His sparkling blue eyes make you believe him, if only just for a moment. You get caught in his stare, in his crooked, endearing smile. He grabs your hand and squeezes it comfortingly. You notice instantly that he is much too warm, fever making his eyes glassy. Concern floods you, ratcheting up your fear.

“Oh, how noble the little king is!” Gianni laughs—a vicious sound that grates on your nerves—before it dies abruptly in that hideous mouth and he continues, “But you belong to me, Bella, no matter how far you try to run. I made sure of that.” His brutal grin spreads.

“No,” you whisper, shaking violently, your terror threatening to consume you. Only Elvis’ hot hand in yours somewhat grounds you.

Gianni advances, and suddenly your father appears behind him with several other goons. The room becomes unbearably claustrophobic, the air heavy and sour.

Elvis pulls you behind him, shielding you with his long frame. You can’t help but peek around him to see Gianni and your father getting closer.

“My love, we know you are only good for one thing, and this mook,” Gianni says, pointing at Elvis, “knows it, too. He wants it, same as the rest.”

“That’s not true!” you cry out, finally finding your voice.

“Isn’t it?” Gianni purrs.

You press yourself into the blazing, sweaty heat of Elvis’ broad back, wanting to disappear, desperately wanting not to believe such a thing. Doubt creeps in when the image of him between Anita’s bare thighs, his pupils blown and laden with arousal, flashes through you. How he looked at you so intensely and his body seized, and you knew, despite your inexperience, that something wildly inappropriate had occurred. He’s included you in something—a sinful pleasure—you shouldn’t be a part of.

You want to be disgusted, appalled, afraid even, by what it might mean, and yet…

Yet it sends fiery heat coiling down low in your belly instead.

As if reading your thoughts, your father spits out, “Puttana. Donnaccia. You filthy little sullied slut.”

“Aren’t you just?” Gianni agrees silkily, as if remembering what it was like between your legs, ripping away the innocence that was not his to take.

Bile rises in your throat, and you push back from Elvis, hitting the wall behind you. Icy cold shame washes over you. Shivering uncontrollably, you want to run. You want to hide. You don’t want Elvis to see what you are. But you are frozen.

Elvis doesn’t look at you, however. Instead, he erupts into a roaring fury, running at Gianni and your father like a bull. The force of it should knock Gianni over, but like some supernatural being, he doesn’t budge.

You watch in horror as Gianni grips Elvis by the shoulder, pulls him in close, and rips his throat out with those glistening fangs.

The sound of grief that explodes from you is unrecognizable. The metallic tang of fresh blood pierces the air. You watch as Elvis’ eyes widen in shock, then roll back into his head. As he starts to slump, your father catches him, driving a knife deep into his abdomen.

“No, no, no, NO!” you scream, needing to get to Elvis, needing to save him. But you can’t move, no matter how hard you thrash and try.

“Dolores,” Elvis sputters, coughing up blood as he falls to the floor. The fact that he uses your given name sends another kind of ache punching through your chest.

Then Gianni has reached you, pressing you against the wall, his stinking breath cloying as he whispers mockingly in your ear, “Poor Bella. It’s all your fault. If only you’d stayed where you belong…”

“No, I’m sorry, please, I-I-I…it’s not—,” you hiccup, gasping for breath as Gianni’s hand closes around your throat. His other hand presses hard into your belly, moving down slowly. Nausea rolls over you.

“I’ll always be with you,” Gianni whispers into your mouth, his hand cupping the mound between your legs, “whether you like it or not.”

Choking and gasping, you wake with a start. Your eyes fly open, and your hands clutch at your neck desperately. When satisfied you aren’t being strangled, your place your hand over your thundering heart, forcing yourself to take in slower, more measured breaths.

It takes a long, panicked moment to figure out where you are and find your bearings in the dark room. Frazzled and dazed, your stomach churns, thinking you are still trapped in your old room, not laid out on a luxurious mattress with satin sheets.

Where…?

In Elvis’ bed. Next to him.

Your head turns rapidly, and it’s only when you feel the weight of him so close and hear the quiet wheezing of his breath beside you, that you realize he’s alive and not bleeding out on the floor. The relief only lasts a moment, though, as you picture Gianni’s bloody teeth and hear his words echo in your head:

“I’ll always be with you, whether you like it or not.”

Your stomach rolls violently, and throwing the covers aside, you stumble through the dark and unfamiliar space and into the ensuite bathroom. Flinging on the light, you barely make it to the toilet it time. Acidic bile burns on its way up and out, but at least it distracts you from the lingering phantom smell of blood that still permeates through you.

You purge the memory of Gianni and your father out of you, again and again. Even once your stomach is long emptied, you dry heave viciously, a part of you hoping that this will make you feel untouched again. Clean. Undamaged. Guiltless. Worthy.

“Lil’ Bird?” Elvis’ voice is gravelly with sleep, dreamy yet concerned as he stands behind you.

You sob in relief at the sound of his famous lilt, a definitive reminder that you didn’t get him killed. You would feel more mortified at the state he’s caught you in except your body keeps trying to expel your demons through your mouth, so all your energy and attention goes back to clutching the sides of the toilet.

“Oh, honey,” he drawls sleepily, dropping to his knees on the carpet next to you. His hand falls heavy and warm on your back, and you want to flinch away but another heave shakes your body.

Instead of being disgusted, Elvis gathers your hair up in his hand, his fingers brushing and catching in the long, dark strands, pulling it out of the way of your sick.

It’s unclear whether it is this kindness, your embarrassment, or your sickness that has tears streaming down your cheeks. Your weakness feels untenable—it’s you who should be taking care of him, not the other way around—but here you are, vulnerable as can be with Elvis cooing quietly into your ear.

You aren’t sure how long you sit there, huddled over the toilet, your dry heaving eventually turning into wracking sobs. Everything from the past week seems to hit you all at once. Your entire life has been upended in a multitude of ways and your valiant effort to keep it stoically inside has been ripped apart.

“Come’ere darlin’,” Elvis says gently, pulling your shivering form into his warm embrace.

You stiffen at the contact, your mind flooding on how it’s not right because he’s your patient and he should be relying on you to take care of him instead of whatever this is. You must be murmuring it aloud, however, because then he’s answering back:

“Hush, lil’ girl, lemme take care of ya.”

Elvis moves, sitting with his back against the vanity cabinets now, drawing you up and into his lap. Boneless, you let him, any semblance of fight drained out of you and flushed down the toilet.

Tired.

You are so, so tired of being strong and stoic, of pretending not to be terrified, of blaming yourself for everything that has happened to bring you to this moment. And here you are, in the most unlikely of places, being lulled into submission by a man you hardly know, yet somehow know better than any other man in your life. Inconceivably, you feel safe in this strange embrace, and perhaps that is why you can’t stop the hiccupping sobs escaping you or the tears pouring down your cheeks. The unfairness and cruelty in your world threaten to break you apart.

But you are safe, at least for the moment, in the arms of the most famous man on the planet, who seems nothing but kind and generous and gentle.

He doesn’t have to be. He shouldn’t be—I don’t deserve it—yet he is.

You bury your head into his shoulder, the satiny silk of his pajama top clutched fiercely in your hand as if it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality, an anchor keeping you moored in the churning ocean of your mind, of your past. You cling harder as images of your father’s violence and Gianni’s assault crash over you, threatening to drown you.

The more you cry, the tighter Elvis seems to hold you. You vaguely register that his gentle words have turned into a low, crooning lullaby, the reverberations in his chest pacifying your trembling form.

It’s so beautiful and lilting, a light and soothing sound meant for picturesque moments. Has his voice always been this lovely? Or had it changed and matured in his time across the ocean? Regardless, it pulls your focus away from your fears, and you finally begin to relax. Though by the exhaustion you feel coupled with a strange sense of calm, you wonder if it is numbness that you are succumbing to.

Elvis stops abruptly, jolting you out of your stupor. This sudden change of focus has his hand trailing feather-light over the bare skin of your thigh. You hadn’t realized the hem of your nightgown had creeped up towards your hips. Your heart begins to thump against your ribcage at the contact, not understanding why he’s touching you so intimately. Panic edges its way back in, held at bay by the kindness he’s showed you up until now.

Before embarrassment and your instinct to cover yourself in modesty even has a chance to settle, your eyes follow his up your legs.

His whole body goes taut. “Who did this to you?” he asks, voice lower than you’ve heard it before. He says it in such a measured, eerily calm manner that you immediately know the tone is only for your benefit and not because he’s feeling in any way calm.

The kerthunk of your heart sinking into your stomach makes it obvious what he’s asking without you having to look, but you do anyway, even though you’ve spent the last week avoiding looking at all costs.

Your thighs resemble a macabre rainbow, the purplish-blue giving way to a mottled yellow-green. You fumble for a reasonable excuse—lord knows you’ve become skilled at them over the years—but these bruises were different. Gianni had not been gentle with you, as evidenced by his greedy handprints leaving horrific reminders deep into your flesh, too far up your thighs to be proper.

If your stomach wasn’t already empty, you think you might have vomited again, right there in Elvis’ lap, but as it stands, you manage to swallow the lingering bile back down your throat. But you cannot get the words out to make him understand, so you settle for shaking your head vigorously, as if to say, I swear this wasn’t my fault. I’m not that kind of girl. My innocence is intact. This isn’t your problem.

But the look in Elvis’ deep eyes is not one of judgement or disappointment—instead, they burn with unfettered protectiveness, something you have never experienced from anyone other than your mother.

“Dolores, who did this to you?” The question is insistent and firm this time. The use of your full name and not one of his endearments makes it clear how serious he is.

Shame blooms across your cheeks and you give into the urge to bury your head back into his shoulder, trying to hide away and pretend this isn’t happening. No one was ever supposed to know. You feel yourself wanting to slip far away. Unfortunately for you, Elvis counters your move, lifting your chin with his index finger so you cannot escape his question.

The violent remnants of your nightmare make it clear that you can’t tell Elvis about Gianni or your father. They are much too dangerous. You stomach turns again at the thought of Elvis getting hurt because of you. You’ve already, unbeknownst to him, put him at risk. But you must tell him something, anything to stop the intense emotions churning in his eyes. His gaze threatens to swallow you whole.

“A very dangerous man,” you rasp out, finally acquiescing something. Your eyes settle in your lap—anywhere but looking into the pools of his eyes.

He is quiet, and you can feel the weight of his stare examining your body in search of answers, taking in the pieces of you—the scars, the bruises—that you are so used to hiding under your clothes and resigned exterior. You can’t help but squirm under the scrutiny but have no energy to climb out of his embrace to hide your shame away. It’s too late for that anyway, and you are so very tired.

After taking you in fully, you feel the press in the air of all the questions he wants to ask but doesn’t. Instead, he purses those full lips of his together in a line and nods solemnly, making some decision you are not privy to.

“Is he why you wanted to leave New York so fast? Why you said yes to this?” he asks quietly.

You close your eyes, and for the first time in your life, you yearn to unload your burden. It’s as though you are just realizing how utterly exhausting it’s been keeping everything locked up tight, building and keeping the walls around yourself secure. And none of it makes sense, this fact that it is Elvis knocking a hole straight through to the truth.

Your lip trembles. “Mmm hmm…” you manage before pausing, “b-but he’s n-not the o-only man I n-needed t-to get away from.” The chattering of your teeth has your admission stuttered and fumbling, but the crushing weight that has been on your shoulders lifts slightly with what little you’ve given him.

Elvis’ hands clench and release your nightgown, his jaw ticking as if he is holding himself back from an eruption of emotion. You are completely baffled by how concerned and protective he appears. This man who you barely know. This man who is in your care, not the other way around.

The rumbling growl which comes out of him is so low you might not have registered it except that by being so close to him, it reverberates through you.

“Nobody’s gonna touch you like that ever again. You hear me, Little Bird?” he says firmly, cupping your cheek to make you look at him and see how genuine he is. “Not while I’m around.”

This time when your heart plummets, it’s not out of fear. No, it’s more like the drop of a roller coaster on Coney Island or one of the elevators in the Empire State Building: a momentary loss of control followed by giddy excitement. It is joined by a wash of warmth over your chilled skin, and you are suddenly hyperaware of every single place his furnace of a body touches your own. The rolling of your stomach settles, your trembling beginning to ebb. The logic you so pride yourself on has been totally circumvented by your basest needs to be held, nurtured, and cared for, for once.

It's selfish. But your disorientation and Elvis’ ability to disarm you has you relishing in his warmth, his gentleness. You don’t flinch from his touch. Curling into him, a quiet sob escapes your lips at the feeling of being protected for the first time in a very long time.

Elvis wraps his arms around you carefully, as though knowing the fragility of your soul. Eventually, you relax, your exhaustion taking over fully, and your vision blurs and dims.

*

The first thing you register is how warm and cozy you are. It’s so very different from the cold you usually experience when waking up. You are cocooned so pleasantly and snuggle into the feeling, wondering if perhaps you are dreaming. How else would you feel like this, as alone as you are?

It’s not until that warm cocoon shifts and sighs around you that your eyes pop open. Your heart skips a beat.

Oh, God, where am I?

Panicked disorientation cuts through the comfort you’d been enveloped in, sharpening your focus, and it only takes a moment for you to remember you are at Graceland. With Elvis Presley. In his bedroom.

You blink the gritty sand of sleep from your eyes as a flash of memory comes from the night before: Elvis, between Anita’s legs. Their argument. His roaring tantrum and its aftermath.

Swallowing, you are quickly reminded by the sting that the night didn’t end there. You shiver at the thought of your horrible nightmare and the subsequent retching in the bathroom. Then Elvis found you, gotten on the floor with you, and held you…

Oh, Madone…I’m in his bed.

But it’s when you register that your comforting cocoon is Elvis holding you under the covers, that you are curled into his side, that shock and embarrassment washes over you.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

The surprising thing is that fear is perhaps the one thing you are not feeling. What if I went far away like I do sometimes and didn’t remember him taking advantage of me? But taking stock of yourself, you are sure he hasn’t done anything to harm you. No, he feels so different…like safety. His gentleness from the middle of the night floods back to you, causing an ache in your heart you do not entirely understand.

The rise and fall of his breath is evident to you now by how his ribs expand against your curled up hands. It’s almost hypnotic coupled with the sound of his breathing. But that seems a little labored, and his body is an oven, reminding you of his fever last night.

This situation is beyond improper, your logical mind butts in, knowing you should get out of this compromising situation as quickly as possible, preferably before he wakes. But another part of you relishes in it and wants to lie here in his protective embrace for as long as possible. You take a deep breath, committing this feeling to memory, even though you know you shouldn’t.

As your head clears, the panic from last night dissipating, you realize you cannot let this go any further, as innocent as it may seem now. You need to move.

He is your patient, Lori. Get a grip.

Well, and my boyfriend in public, technically.

You roll your eyes at yourself, resisting the urge to tear yourself from his grasp and leap out of the bed as though he is on fire. No, you don’t want to wake him, to be a burden on him, you think as shame slithers back into your thoughts. The things he knows about you now, those things he guessed and you confirmed…oh, lord, what he must think of you. How he must pity you.

That bite of shame is what finally has you extricating yourself as slowly as possible, rolling and sliding your way out of his arms. You think this one thing has gone right when you manage to swing upright at the edge of the bed, but the moment you start to rise, feet sliding towards the floor, a warm hand catches your wrist, startling you.

“Where ya goin’, lil’ Bird?” Elvis croaks, voice heavy with sleep, eyes barely open to slits. “You okay?”

Your heart flutters. “I-I’m fine,” you whisper quietly, the humiliation and intimacy of last night hot in your veins. “You can go back to sleep.”

His dazed eyes drift closed and you think maybe you’ve gotten away with it, but then they pop open like he’s startled himself awake. Head shaking once, twice, he mumbles, “Mmm, can’t. Not without you…”

You freeze, the fluttering of your heart cascading down into your stomach.

He’s half asleep. He doesn’t realize what he’s saying.

Rapidly, the events from last night rush back to you. It’s as if you both crossed over some precipice of trust when you each saw the other in your worst moments.

Oh, he knows so much about you now that you never, ever planned to tell him.

In your state last night, you didn’t consider the repercussions of this new trust and familiarity. You’ve never felt intimate with a man emotionally and certainly not physically. You’d never had the occasion or confidence to do so.

For Elvis to want you to come to bed so he can sleep soundly feels profoundly personal, and yet, from what you felt moments ago wrapped in his arms, you think you might understand it just a little bit. And that flusters you in a way you’ve never felt before.

“I have to use the bathroom,” you eek out. A non-committal answer.

“Okay, baby…jus’ come right back,” he murmurs, blinking his glassy eyes slowly.

You scurry off, thinking about how him doubling down about it means it’s not a fluke that he wants you near him. A strange little shiver rolls through you as you take care of your business, a little disturbed and distracted by this illogical pull you feel towards him.

I shouldn’t feel this way, but…

But maybe you can use it to your advantage. Maybe he will listen to you now if he trusts you and feels connected to you. Perhaps this is the best way you can help him, even if it is unconventional.

And manipulative.

You try not to think about that or how it makes you feel when he looks at you a certain way. The truth of the matter is, if you focus on him, you can’t think too hard on yourself.

Steeling yourself in the mirror gives you pause. You look terrible—gaunt with little red freckles littering your cheeks and jaw from all the broken blood vessels caused by heaving your guts out last night. Your deep-set eyes are even darker than usual, almost as though you have two black eyes to match the horrible, mottled bruises on your thighs. The sight makes you shudder.

Well, even if Elvis found you attractive in the first place (and that’s a big if), your current state is sure to change his mind and eliminate any awkwardness in that regard. In fact, looking as terrible as you do will probably help the situation. Maybe he’ll follow your directions out of pity.

Sighing audibly, you steady yourself and head back into the freezing, darkened bedroom. A part of you hopes that maybe he’s fallen back asleep so you can avoid any awkwardness.

“What took ya so long? Sure you’re okay?” he probes sleepily, but it seems to come from a place of concern. Flipping on the lamp on the nightstand, he furrows his brow and lifts his head up as if to inspect you. This continued protectiveness takes you aback.

“Yes, I’m alright, I promise.” The truth is you are far from alright but have no energy to untangle that now. Instead, you turn the question back to him: “How are you feeling? How’s your breathing?” You sit on the edge of the bed, using your wrist to feel his clammy forehead.

Elvis pulls on your other arm, gently, but enough to cause you to topple over next to him as he moves you where he wants you. When you stiffen, he seems to realize he’s overstepped and takes his hands off you.

“I-I-I’m sorry, honey. I-I din’t mean ta—I just thought—” he stutters, “but w-we both just seem ta feel better together…”

A little voice in the back of your head reminds you his comfort felt awfully nice last night when you fell apart. Forcing yourself to breathe evenly, you consider his words—there is truth to them and you know it—and you wonder again if this is how you get him to do what you ask more often.

Trying not to freeze, you settle on a bit of honesty. “I know, b-but this is new for me, Elvis. I’m not used to…, and…and…” you trail off, finding it hard to get the words out now that you need to say them aloud. Propriety and shame have you flailing in the strangeness of the situation.

He scoots over, pulling you gently down to face him, like two girls sharing secrets at a sleepover. “Of course, honey. I-I w-wasn’t thinkin’,” he says as if reading your mind, “Is this okay?”

You nod. There is such a disarming way about him that even in your apprehension at his closeness, you begin to relax. He curls his warm hands up around your icy cold ones. It soothes you more than you anticipate.

“How are you feeling, really?” you ask softly. Your current physical closeness has your words coming out more familiar and informal than you’ve been with him before. You figure after the events of last night, you can let go of some of the harsh professionalism that had been trained into you the past four and a half years.

Elvis shrugs, seemingly nonchalant, which is telling. “I’m tired,” he concedes, quickly adding, “You must be tired, too, after…being sick.” He seems to choose the words carefully.

It’s a sort of bargaining chip, you realize—his attempt at an “If I have to rest, so do you.” It’s a bit flipped from the ultimatum you’d given him on the train, and may be a dangerous precedent to set, but this is the closest you’ve gotten him to rest by his own volition since you met him.

The thing is you are bone tired after a week of trauma and rapid adjustment to a completely new and hectic way of life. And as much as he drove you crazy at first with what you had assumed was arrogance and entitlement, he has now, inexplicably, become someone you might confide in.

But your stubborn nature and need for self-protection balks at this. Your shame makes you want to hide away from him. Yet you are beginning to understand that Elvis, while surrounded by people, lives a very lonely, isolated existence and seems to yearn for connection.

Maybe we aren’t so different, he and I.

“I am rather exhausted,” you finally relent, knowing if you lie he will see through it, through you, in that strange way of his. You don’t want to jeopardize your progress with him.

His eyes are darker than usual, looking at you with what you can only explain as tenderness. “Ya need to rest, honey. I-I-I know I been runnin’ ya ragged.”

“I can only rest if you do,” you point out.

He nods. His head is so close to yours that the action nearly causes his head to bump into yours. Apparently unable to resist the urge to touch and fawn, he brushes a lock of your haphazard hair back behind your ear.

“Okay, lil’ Lo, I’ll rest.”

It is music to your ears.

“That means staying in bed actually resting, not ‘resting’ while working or at a party,” you warn playfully because you’ve learned he responds better to this type of request.

“Well, what if I need ta use the bathroom?” he jokes.

“Hmmm…I suppose I’ll allow it,” you say, managing a small, almost flirtatious smile.

Oh, Madone, who am I becoming?

“I need to take your vitals and give you your medicine,” you add quickly before he can respond, forcing yourself to be logical and practical rather than borderline swooning.

It’s then that your stomach growls so loudly it’s impossible to deny.

“Lord, woman, we better get some food in ya!” he laughs, rolling over and grabbing the receiver on the nightstand.

When he shifts, you shiver, yearning for his body heat again. It’s just because he keeps the room frigid, you tell yourself. He orders food to be brought up, but doesn’t ask you what you want, which bothers you a little, though you suppose he’s used to doing things his way, especially in his own home.

You use the distraction to get up and retrieve your medical bag. You know between the insane travel, the publicity schedule, his romp with Anita, and then his massive outburst that he must be running on empty. It worries you how he runs himself into the ground, and you know you need to find a better way than this quid pro quo to make sure he’s resting regularly and taking breaks.

If you don’t, this job will be much more difficult than you anticipated. You worry his condition will worsen rapidly at this rate. A heaviness settles on your heart at the thought.

It doesn’t make you feel any better when his vitals show he hasn’t improved much from last night. His blood pressure is a little better since he’s not worked up, but it’s not where it should be, and his temperature is only down a degree. No wonder he’s so warm.

Looking at him closely, you see that his eyes are rimmed black like yours and glassy, his fatigue showing through his moments of playfulness and concern for you.

“You know, you don’t have to pretend with me, Elvis.” It slips out quietly before you can think better of it, your eyes flitting down to meet his briefly.

The tired haze in his eyes clears and he blinks, as if trying to comprehend what you are saying.

“What I mean is I know you have to pretend you are alright with almost everyone else in your life. It must be very tiring.” Yet another similarity between you. “But you don’t have to do it with me.”

“I…” he pauses, looking down, not sure how to process that information. It’s like he never considered that he could drop the façade. That realization makes your heart ache for him.

Something significant shifts within you. Elvis knows more about you now than anyone you’ve known your whole life. And you know the world’s most famous singer’s biggest secret. Both of you are going to have to accept it and learn to trust one another, as out of character as it may be for you to do so.

Boldly, you take a move from his book, grabbing his chiseled chin and pulling it up to make him look at you. His eyes widen in surprise and compliance.

“Elvis, I am here for you and you only. You don’t owe me any sort of excuses about how you are doing in order to make me feel better. But you do owe me honesty about how you are truly feeling so I can help you. And that means doing what I tell you to do in terms of your health,” you say in a steady, firm voice.

The sudden pliable submissiveness in his heavy-lidded eyes surprises you somewhat. You expected more of a fight. He blinks slowly, and the intensity of his open and needy gaze sends a bolt of electricity through you.

“Right now you need to eat, take your medicine, and get back into bed to rest. Understand?” you continue. It’s not unkind, but there is a slight edge to your voice that indicates you mean it.

“Yes, ma’am,” Elvis responds sincerely and quietly, nodding.

You release his chin but keep your eyes fixed to his, your heart pounding for reasons you don’t want to consider. Something unspoken passes between you, creating a molten heat deep in your belly. There is an element of control you seem have over him in these private moments that you don’t quite understand yet. It makes you feel safe and grounded…and powerful.

It also makes you want to scoop him up in your arms and comfort him as he did with you the night before.

You know you’re in trouble because your normal boundaries that keep people at a distance have been skirted expertly by him. But it’s a give and take. The more you open up to him, the more willing he is to listen to you and do what you ask.

If you want to save his life, and in turn your own, you’ll need to do whatever it takes to keep Elvis well and happy. And if that means you have got to let him in a little, so be it, you decide, because your safety relies on him now. You have no other plan if this goes south.

It’s all rather terrifying.

Breakfast comes with a knock on the door, interrupting the moment. Ravenous, you see that everything you could possibly want is brought in and placed on a side table near the door. Your eyes widen. It’s enough to feed the whole house.

“I-I didn’t know what you wanted, so I just had Alberta make a bit of everythin’,” he says sheepishly.

“Oh. Well, thank you, that’s very kind of you,” you say, unable to take your eyes off the spread. Your mouth waters at the sweet smell of maple syrup and perfectly golden pancakes, and you can’t help but be a little shocked by the mountain of burnt-to-a-crisp bacon that sits next to it.

He gives you a boyish smile, stands, and hands you a plate, which you gladly take and gingerly fill with food.

Settling back on the bed, both of you eat quietly and for the first time, it is not uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the informal setting without the entourage that does it. Perhaps it is the mutual fatigue, hunger, or the newfound trust between you two. For whatever reason, it takes a little more weight off your shoulders.

Finishing up, you move to get up and place your plate on the tray by the door, but Elvis’ hand catches your wrist and pulls you back.

“Wait. You have a little syrup…” he starts, pointing to the corner where his lips meet.

“Oh, thank you,” you say, a flush bourgeoning across your chest. You swipe the corner of your mouth with your napkin, then look at him expectantly.

“Mmm…no,” he says, eyes glimmering in the dim light, “Here.”

His tongue licks a stripe up the pad of his thumb. Before you can think fast enough to move away, he leans in and his dampened thumb wipes slowly over the sticky crease, removing the syrup from the corner of your mouth.

Frozen, your heart throbs so hard in your chest, you are afraid he might hear it, but he is too busy bringing his thumb back to his mouth and sucking it clean of the sweetness that moments ago graced your lips.

Oh, Madone.

The fever does not quell the unabashedly open look he gives you. How a man can all at once look as innocent as a lamb while at the same time exuding such raw sexuality, you’ll never know. It’s not as if he’s meaning to make a pass, yet a swell of tension rolls between you all the same. You force yourself to breathe, to blink, to do anything that will break the spell he seems to have on you.

Blood blooms like fire across your cheeks. You stand quickly and busy yourself as though nothing has happened, taking both plates away, silently ordering your heart to settle.

He is your patient, Lori.

You are grateful for being able to turn away as you prepare his medicines, combinations of vitamins and antibiotics that need a full stomach. It allows time for your face to cool and your body to become your own again. When you turn back to him, he sits at the edge of the bed, waiting for you. The sleepy look on his face has returned, those bedroom eyes low, docile, and submissive. He looks far away, you think, as if caught in deep thought.

You step in front of him. Boldly, before you can think better of it, you use one finger to tilt up his chin to look at you. He blinks up at you dreamily while one hand absently plays with the hem of your nightgown. It’s intimate and endearing.

“Time for your medicine, Elvis,” you say, pouring the pills into one of his hands. You watch as he throws them into his mouth, then you hand him a glass of water to swallow them down.

In a moment of déjà vu, you realize you are lightyears away from the annoyance you felt for him back in the hospital, doing nearly the same thing. It’s strange. It hasn’t been that long, but time has a funny way of warping in Elvis Presley’s world. Despite your efforts to keep him at arm’s length, he’s managed to worm his way past your defenses. It’ll take some doing for you to keep him well and following the doctor’s orders, but you think this newfound closeness will help your efforts.

As long as I keep my wits about me.

When you both lay down to go back to sleep, the terror that gripped you back in New York and slashed through your dreams in the night feels far away. As you get comfortable on your side of the bed, Elvis intertwines his long fingers in yours. Your normal impulse to pull away doesn’t interfere. No, he is dutifully respecting your space, so you give him this concession. You can’t tell if it’s him needing the assurance of your presence, or him assuring you of his.

Maybe it’s both.

Either way, as the haze of sleep finds you again, a fleeting thought drifts in your mind:

I’ve never been safer than I am right now.

The thought floats away again before you have time to think on it. The comforting weight of Elvis’ hand grounds you to him and sleep consumes you once again.

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[mightbesmall]

No, Bad Pets!

Genre: Fluff, Crack.

Characters: Most students.

Warnings: Swearing, weird creature flirting.

Summary: You… turned into a pet?

Additional Notes: Based on this post by twst-drabbles on Tumblr, love their house pet au, janitor au and- their work in general tbh.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The most angriest, low but somehow high at the same time, chirps were heard. Crowley was sweating buckets at this tiny creature that could fit in one hand. It was trying to look intimidating and it achieved that, Mr Crowley was shaking in his ridiculously expensive boots.

This small, angry creature is you. 

You see, you were chasing down some entitled prick who drive his motorbike riiight next to your house despite the obvious signs and spooked Azul and the Tweels'. You quickly calmed them down, placed them in wet towels for extra comfort and went outside. The jerk was looping back 'round the neighbourhood so you took your chance. Which leads to a few moments ago, you cornered and scolded the biker whilst pointing to the big, bold and blaring signs that clearly say "NO VEHICLES." He saw a Crowley storming out of his mansion so as a distraction of sorts, the asshole NPC blasted a spell right at your face. It was as if time stopped, Crowley certainly did.

A puff of smoke appeared as the biker scattered off somewhere, the oldies will certainly deal with him.

"Caretaker?" Crowley called out as the smoke cleared, where you stood was... nothing. "Huh?" The scattered brained male looked left, then right before down when he heard a piercing chirp that somewhat sounded like you somehow. 

"Great Sevens!" He cried as in place of you was a small, cute harpy... or a siren? He cannot really tell. You actually bore a lot of resemblance to the caladrius with your snow white feathers and comforting aura, despite the threatening chirps and squawks.

Anyways you were tiny yet you have already bitten Crowley thrice, he is now bleeding a tad. He just wanted to bring you to your house and figure it out from there but you were making it quite difficult!

...

He bribed you with food. As soon as he even uttered the first few syllables of your favourite food, you were chilling on his shoulder as docile as a mouse, apart from that squawk that he just knew was you telling him to hurry up. 

He barely got through your front door before a certain siren swooped in and snatched you off of his shoulders. He quickly followed you two to the front room where what Crowley can only describe as a council meeting was happening. All the pets were in the same room, how rare. Even the tweels' were on their little skateboards while Azul was perched on your coffee table. Spray bottles at the ready. 

Vil gently placed you down before setting beside you. Crowley took a seat on the chair. 

You chirped rather harshly at Floyd who was starting to glide towards you. He shrunk back in surprise before giving a toothy little grin. Jade chirped in a way that sounded like laughter.

Vil cooed at you, lightly brushing his wings against your rather pretty ones. You were rather beautiful for a harpy, though once upon a time they were known as elegant and refined creatures, not as much as sirens though but you get the idea.

Ace marched up to you with Deuce trailing behind him. They couldn't get that close before Vil squawked at them before resuming grooming you. Huh. It felt quite nice, you almost became putty in his talons. 

Ace huffed defiantly, stomping his foot before Cater dragged him back a bit. Deuce took some rather hesitant steps towards you, not wanting to disrupt Vil's hard work. He then plopped in front of you, with some soft chirps. What a sweetheart, keeping his voice low as to not hurt your most definitely sensitive hearing. He can relate, a new body isn't fun to your senses. 

Trey has a similar approach, he even offered you a seed. How... intimate. It's a clover seed and all. 

And so 36 minutes passed with Vil combing through your new feathers, highlighting your beauty and chatting with the others. Mainly Trey, Deuce, Jack and Epel. Vil wouldn't allow anyone else close. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were flattered but Riddle had to stop. You do not want to hang out in his rose, you made yourself a pretty nice nest on your bed thank you very much. You chirped at him, it came out like a little coo, and gently rejected his offer. 

He wilted, very much pouty. But with his prideful nature, he stopped insisting and instead gave a little nod. You sighed as best you could with your tiny lungs and flapped your wings twice before you took off. You gently picked Riddle up, being mindful of your claws, and flew him to your room. Not caring for the way he shrieked and gripped your legs.

You hope he enjoyed your nest, it was mighty comfortable and you didn't want to share. Just this once though.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another sandstorm, caused by a certain spirit. Leona was flying overhead displaying a beautiful masterpiece of his hard work. It was a rare sight to behold, oh and the art as well. 

When he was finished, the sand art dropped to the floor gracefully, showcasing its beauty. He then turned to you with a proud chuff, waiting for praise. You raised a brow at him before giving a small, drawled coo of approval. Bad idea, he practically inflated from the ego boost. 

You rolled your eyes at him, little attention seeker.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were starting to see a pattern here.

Azul was trying to drag you to his cave. You can’t quite breathe in the water and he seems to forget that. As of right now Azul only succeeded in having you dip a claw in the tank. You chirped at him.

He understood now. He huffed and pouted in annoyance, even more so when Jade and Floyd started to laugh and cackle at him. He then took off to his cave before swimming back and produced a shiny golden coin to you. He seemed rather proud of himself when you inspected it. You didn’t take it though, instead you rolled your eyes before giving him a forehead kiss. Oh how he loved affection.

The tweels’ started to chirp in jealousy so you quickly took off before they could try nipping at you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jamil was cuddling up to you, you were wrapped in his tail. You couldn’t fly away, not that you would anyways. Affection from Jamil wasn’t that common. He had you in a secure grip, though it doesn’t hurt. 

You gave a tired coo that the naga replied with a soft hiss. He was making sure you fell asleep here. In his bed. Wrapped up in his tail and his arms. You would’ve found it amusing if you weren’t just so tired, Kalim came over and was all over you. 

You swear you would’ve exploded from him trying to feed you crackers if it weren’t for Silver stepping in. God bless his beautiful soul.

Your eyes were starting to droop when you felt Jamil hiss. The little plant nymphs were back and trying to nab you from his clutches. Unfortunately you don’t exactly trust Ace to be careful with your feathers and you didn’t want Cater or Riddle to fuss over you so as soon as Jamil’s grip lessened, you flew up in a flurry of feathers. Off to your bed you go. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was nice. Vil was behaving like normal, performing his elegant dances to you like usual but you couldn’t help but have an inkling feeling that he was putting extra effort in this one.

What a minute…

You gave him a dead eyed stare. He paid no mind and continued on with his prancing and display of his tail feathers. He then finished and was about to fly off when you gave a chirp. It was one that read, I am fed up with this bullshit. Vil was quite offended, thinking you disliked his dance, so he turned to you only for you to give another chirp.

 Oh.

So the others tried their hand at trying to seduce you as well, no matter. Vil is confident that he will be the best suitor, you two are similar in species and he is of course the most beautiful. 

You huffed before lightly whacking him with your wing and flew off, on your way to bother Crowley. It was feeding time for everyone after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What a pretty sight.

The display of rainbow lights reflected quite well off of your white feathers, enhancing your curious but adorable situation. 

Idia was giving it his all, choosing the most vibrant colours, making sure to dazzle you. He made sure to really give his all when it was your favourite colour, illuminating the pond with the vibrant and wonderful colour.

Not too bright to flash bang you but bright enough to light the whole place up.

You just sat there, admiring the pretty colours as one does before patting Ortho on the head. He was snuggled up next to you. Idia should be mad that someone stole your attention away from him but it was Ortho so he’ll allow it. 

He turned to you, waiting. You gave a little hum before curling up with Ortho, who had found his way on your lap and is now enjoying you wrapping your wings around him. You were like a big blanket, very comfy.

Idia deflated a little at the lack of attention but it was Ortho… he soon joined you two as well. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You let out an undignified squawk. Malleus, the little devil, just picked you up out of your nest and flew off. He was taking you to his nest. While you have admitted to it looking comfortable, you’d much rather be in your own nest. You were in the middle of napping as well.

He plopped you down before sitting next you, clearly pleased with himself if his smile was anything to go by. 

You rolled your eyes before averting them to Sebek who was at the base of the tree. Conflicted. He doesn’t know if he should start yelling at you for being in the same nest as Malleus or leave you be because you are in the same nest as Malleus. You just raised a brow at him.

Lilia flew over before plopping down on a close branch, making it his duty to mess up your newly groomed tail feathers. You whacked him in the face, chirping at him when he started to laugh and mess up you wings.

Malleus meanwhile was just watching it all unfold, very much amused. He blew a small puff of fire in front of you, finding pleasure in the way you didn’t even flinch but instead gave him a narrowed eye stare. You weren’t mad but more so questioning as to why? He just gave a smile in response, covering your wings with his own.

Little shit. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were finally alone, Ace thought as he snuck into your room only to receive the jumpscare of his life when he saw Cater, Deuce and Trey dog piled on top of you. Cater turned to him before giving a shit eating grin, relishing in the way you patted his head. 

Deuce and Trey also turned to him. The little lily nymph giving him a deadpanned stare before sticking his tongue out and went back to napping on you. Trey however gave Ace an ominous look before slowly shaking his head and turned away. Ace rolled his eyes, these guys can’t keep you to themselves, he wants attention too!

It then dawned on him that someone needs to attend to Riddle and the garden still. He gave the three a heated glare before giving you his best puppy eyes, he’s seen them work for others so he might as well try. You were not impressed and just, laid there. It was then that Ace knew he can’t get out of this. 

So begrudgingly, he sulked back outside. Next time he swears! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He snuck back into your room, the other nymphs are busy so he can have all your attention on him. 

He entered your room only to be severely annoyed. There was Ruggie and Jack, napping away with you lightly scratching their scalps. 

Ruggie opened his eyes before nudging Jack, both of them staring at the nymph at the doorway. You also looked up, not looking impressed in the slightest. 

He huffed before storming out, he couldn’t push his way into the napping circle as Ruggie will get him back and Jack honestly kinda scares him. He fears you most though, doesn’t want you to be mad at him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He swears he’s going to start hitting something.

Ace once again invaded your room only to find you missing, he searched high and low before sneaking his way into the only place he hasn’t checked: the Octavinelle tank. Low and behold, you were sitting at the edge of the tank with Jade and Floyd squeezing you. Not to hard but just enough to restrict any movement. 

He didn’t even bother to linger, those two scared him shitless. 

Next time for real this time. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Never has he felt the immense urge to beat a human since he first met you. Kalim wasn’t even in the garden this time!

The rich boy was pampering you in love and care, it was heartwarming to see but dammit when will he get a turn?!

You were just sitting there, waiting for Kalim to finish to probably nap. He was presenting tiny clothing for you, an assortment of wondrous food and sparkling jewellery. You know just rich kid things. 

Ace sighed in defeat and wandered off, ready for his next attempt. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And once again he was beaten. By a dryad and a creepy Frenchman no less. You were sitting on Rooks lap, combing your taloned hands through Epel’s hair, a bit like how Vil would. The fancy lad you were using as a chair was almost vibrating in excitement, gushing about how he’s never seen such a beautiful and exquis harpy before! He tried brushing his fingers along your wings but you bit him, he only chuckled at that before fanboying about such a display of strength and power, making you look oh so féroce!

The dryad was humming in content, he would hate for anyone to touch his hair to make him look cute or whatever but it feels real nice when it’s you. His little branches were swaying lightly in content. How precious.

The forgotten nymph only sighed deeply before turning and walking away, missing Epel’s teasing smirk. 

He is going to cry. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He walked into another cuddle pile, didn’t even need to invade your room to find you. 

You, Silver, Sebek and Lilia were all having a nice nap on the sofa in the front room. Sebek was even curled up into you.

It was unfortunately so heartwarming, Ace had to step out in defeat lest he puke from how fluffy it is in there. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ace will commit mass murder.

You were even cuddling with the weird cat before him! The weirdo was even purring as you laid on his back.

You two had an intense battle as he tried to eat you before you swooped down and hit him on the nose. You two then got too tired to continue so you just napped. 

At this point Ace was losing hope in being able to have your sole attention. A shame really. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The nymph was all depressed and sighing a lot as he tended to his duties. It annoyed Deuce so he kept his distance. 

There was then distant chirps, Ace thought it was just Vil before something swooped in and grabbed him causing him, Deuce, Trey, Cater and even Riddle to panic. There was a long coo that calmed them all down, it was only you. Wait it was you!

Ace was so happy he could finally get your attention on him and only him. He didn’t even notice that you bought him to your room before you dropped him into your nest, sitting down beside him. 

It was cuddle time, something Ace has never felt so excited before in his life.

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

saw your requests are open. If its not ignore this .

can u do AC Valhalla hytham x reader ? Maybe reader is evior sibling? And hytham is falling for them but is shy to confess . They fall in love and basim is like :

Amongst hidden ruins

I am so sorry for the long wait I was havig life and death situation with uni I didn't consider that would be there but I hope I can make it up to you by offering a 3 part slow burn?? Ya girl is trying I promise🙈🙉🙊

Pairing: Hytham x reader

Word count: ~16k

Genre: fluff, awkward fluff, idiots in love

Warnings: none, except if you count me not knowing what im doing???

Note: Shy Hytham is canon to me, let he be nervous and giddy with his crush🤌❤️. Also, Basim with his wolf dad energy 100% supports his adopted son like "i teach you how to be an assassin, now i teach you how to rizz, boy" and Eivor finally can live through what Sigurd needed to, aka being the older sibling and they will quickly find out why Siggy has eyebags lmfaoo

Being related to the leaders of the Raven Clan was not easy. Especially when it came to two battle-hardened brothers. From the dawn of your life, you had to have someone by your side to keep you from being "hurt." First came the cautionary orders of your father Styrbjörn, which you cannot remember unless it is from Tekla's evening stories. Taking in and raising a newborn baby with two troublemaker squirrels aged a lot on your fathers, even during the early winters of your lives. Then, as you were growing, Prince Sigurd's sense of duty began to surface, and who else could he begin directing, rebuking, and protecting than his youngest sibling. Most of your childhood thus consisted of tramping in your eldest brother's heels, holding his hand, and obeying when he forbade you something. And just when you thought your troubled years would cease to exist as you grew up, Eivor's pestration began.

"I'm just saying it doesn't hurt to call Randvi next time. More eyes see more, more blades cut more." Eivor continued as he dodged those who came across him, trying to catch up with you, who was trying to get rid of his brother with wide steps. You rolled your eyes grumbling as you picked up a bucket from the riverbank, heading towards the stables.

"Eivor, last time, I just went riding for an hour. To the neighboring fields. If you climbed up the top of the Longhouse you would have seen it!" You patted it over your shoulder as you trampled up the path of the settlement.

"Yes, but Tove reported that Saxon bandits are passing nearby lately and-" "Eivor, I don't need a nanny! I can defend myself. I might as well show you how good I am." You raised your voice a little harder than you wanted as you spun back, defiantly shouting into his face. Eivor backed up with wide open eyes, raising his arms to the surrender. 

"Hey, hey, you have no reason to yell at your brother, little one. I just want the best for you." Eivor's voice sounded suspiciously metallic, sarcastic. You knew he was almost certainly  taking your words half-heartedly.

"And if you want any good for yourself, you'd better shut your mouth before I stuff it with Gunnar's footcloth!" Your fingers and fists almost turned white from the effort you used to hold the bucket close to your chest – you had to concentrate very hard not to hit your brother's head with it.

"You talk like you have a chance to beat me." Eivor chuckled to himself in a pitiful grin.

"Listen here, you smartass, Sigurd entrusted you with the leadership of the Clan, not that some blister-headed—"

"I think it will be enough of spreading curses for today. Otherwise, Valka won't be able to make enough talismans for all of us if you keep going like this." In your big arguments, you didn't even notice that Randvi walked next to you. She looked at the two of you with a raised eyebrow. "Maybe a retreat would be good.”

"But Randvi, don't you hear that Eivor runs to me at the slightest crack of a stick to see if I'm still alive? Can't you see that even though I've had the same training as him in our childhood, he acts like I'm a defenseless baby? " You turned to Randvi in desperation, not even paying attention to the water, whether it would stay in your bucket or not.

Your sister in law looked back at you with a pursed mouth. Please, be the more mature one. Reflected in her gaze.

Why do you always have to take the shortcut, for the sake of peace?

You nodded with an annoyed sigh.

"Alright." You grunted in agreement turning back to Eivor, but your flaming stare could have almost scorched him. "Next time I'll tell someone to come with me when I leave home. Okay?"

Eivor's face softened, his eyes sparkling with joy as he grinned in satisfaction.

"Perfect, little sister." He almost sang it as he straightened his back and walked off as if he had done his job well.

"I'll drown him in Tekla's beer one day, you'll see." You fumed at Randvi as you watched with narrowed eyes your brother’s leave.

Randvi laughed hearing this, and patted your shoulder. "Don't be so angry with him, he really only wants good for you." She said apologetically, voice full with kindness.

"His desire for good crushes me. He suffocates me with his fear. No one could live that way." You answered defiantly, speaking from your heart. When will the moment finally come when you can live your life for yourself and no one else?

You sighed dejectedly, then lifted the wooden bucket to your side again. "..I'd better reload this." You muttered, then waved goodbye to Randvi and turned back towards the water.

It seemed to be a long day ahead of you. 

That night you felt like all the joy had been drained from you. Despite the feast, time passed grimly. Despite the music, singing and celebration, you couldn't cheer up - the meat felt tasteless in your mouth.

Since what happened in the morning, you didn't even want to see your brother, specifically for that reason you went to the other side of the longhouse, where you won't even accidentally come under Eivor's watchful eye.

You wondered what you should do to make your brother's overbearing subside.

"Is this seat up to take?" A question came to you behind your back. At first it crossed your mind that it could just be Eivor, that he can't even leave you alone while eating, but then you realized that the voice asking the question sounded much softer than your brother's thunderous one. 

You turned around and found yourself facing Hytham's slender figure. ​He wore his usual white caftan, but now the hood did not cover his lush brown curls. In the darkness, the light of the fire showed a deep brown iris of warm honey, his skin golden from the dancing embers.

It was as if the summer night itself was standing before you.

"For you I am gladly saying yes." You smiled with relief, motioning for him to take the seat beside you.

With a chuckle Hytham took a seat beside you and as he was settling, his shoulder and elbow rubbed against yours.

"Oh, sorry!" He gasped in fright, immediately pulling away from you, offering a decent distance.

"Ah, don't even  worry about it." You waved it away, turning to him. "And what's new in the office? Have you found anything recently with… Eivor, that would advance your research?" You asked, leaning on your elbows.

Hytham shone a timid smile towards you, shaking his head.

"I'm afraid I can't give you exciting news, there haven't been any new leads for weeks. Eivor has been too busy lately, taking care of the clan's affairs with the surrounding allies, to be thinking about that right now."

Pursing your lips, you pondered; your attention falling on the beer mug in your hand, you didn't even have time to notice the warm, longing look with which Hytham stole a glance at you. 

You couldn't notice it - but Basim did; from across, beside the fire. 

"And if I helped instead of Eivor? Trust me, I'm just as good at tracking as he is!" It came out of your mouth suddenly. The thought that you could finally break away from the prohibitions of your brother, from the small life of the settlement, had an invigorating effect on your soul.

"Uh…well…I don't know." Hytham was suddenly speechless, fidgeting shyly, glancing around the hall. "I don't think your brother would be happy if I took you."

"Eivor would only be happy if I was sitting on the shelf in his room until Ragnarök." You rolled your eyes, poking at your brother in annoyance. "Please Hytham! I promise I'll be of use to you!" Leaning closer to him, you betted your eyelashes so sweetly, gazing up at him in the hope that his heart softens for your request. 

But Hytham's heart no longer needed cunning tricks to seduce him.

An indescribable force has drawn him to you since his arrival in the North. The man stood mesmerized by your beauty and as the months went by, as he got to know your pure soul, bright mind, and sharp tongue more and more, he grew a great passion for your person.

Young fierce love or it was a heart-wrenching, bittersweet yearning;  he didn't know yet – Hytham was only certain of this: that your nearness filled him with hope and happiness.

And that was enough for him.

"I— I can  Basim when he might not need my help, and if he releases me, we can go…if you really want to, of course." He agreed with a warm smile on his face.

Sheepishness filled you under his penetrating gaze –  your heart pounded, and slowly the heat of the fire seemed cold compared to the warmth of your skin, as you could only look at your mug while blushing.

When did the young man from the far east start to interest you? When did you notice his charming smile and delightful gaze? How many times have you melted by his eloquence, gentle speech, patience or care? Why did you feel you could never tell Hytham this, because of Eivor? That your brother would definitely stand in your way, even if only for a spark of happiness.

Perhaps better at rest; to live unchanged; as in shame and regret.

"So be it, Hytham." You agreed, now in a much more subdued tone. "If you have come to an agreement with Basim, please tell me immediately!" You promised him as he bowed in agreement.

Maybe you were given a chance for a way out after all. Maybe you'll finally manage to break free from your brother's wings. Maybe if you start on this unknown path, you can find yourself in someone else's arms.