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#and the cemetery again.... what is happening
chronicowboy · 1 year
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not the "i misunderstood assignment" outfits...
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bo0zey · 2 years
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manic mixed depressive episode on my bday is so fun especially when ur going on 2 days no sleep n have a 12hr shift starting at the asscrack of dawn in 6hrs
#idk if i want to sleep like i do but i don’t i just keep walking in circles n staring off blankly#also bursted into tears for no reason bc i missed my mom and remembered how much i hate my fucking birthday#was in the middle of a borderline argument w my family then just zoned out n glanced at the time and tears welled#6:13???#then i pretended to go to the bathroom to hide my tears from my dad cuz he would’ve yelled at me if i went to my room w/o saying anything#so there i am crying like a pathetic loser on the toilet trying to suppress n swallow down ugly sobs#and there i am crying in my dumpster fire of a room on the floor#i literally go the entire year without crying abt her but every time december hits i always get into this weird funk#and idk why it’s still happening it’s been 7 years#i think my subconscious mind is influencing my body to release the trauma stored inside it bc i was never allowed to grieve her properly#so now in blips of time leading up to my birthday and the next day of her passing i’m 15 turning 16 again#i wish i didn’t have to work tomorrow so i could go visit her at her grave instead like i never go to the cemetery but i really want to#i guess i can go on her actual death day but i don’t want to go with my dad and brothers i just want to be alone#they don’t understand the feeling of losing your mom and best friend on your 16th bday#they don’t understand what it’s like carrying all this guilt and trauma and holding her hand and feeling her hand go limp at my words#i told her it was okay she could let go i would take care of my brothers and protect them from my father and i would be strong for everyone#meanwhile i’m listening to my dad n my aunt throwing all her clothes in trash bags upstairs#i didn’t even get to pick out what clothes i wanted to keep of hers im so angry my dad refused to let any of us miss her#“i miss mom-‘ ‘she’s dead get over it!’#i got over it alright but then this time of year rolls around and i’m under it all again#i miss her so much i wonder if she’d be proud of me i wonder what it would be like to feel her hand in mine again#ooos im crying again lol#im so pathetic i’m literally 23 in less than 30 minutes why am i behaving like a crybaby child#23:33 when i was typing that btw n 333 is my angel/life path number lol#i wanna saw my arm off but i won’t#i debated staring an iv on myself instead but i’m too drained i just want lay down n cry lol#pathetic loser crybaby girl can’t function can’t shut up making everyone uncomfortable with her sadnes n tears stupid stupid stupid#drown in them and die nobody here loves you anymore nobody cares you’re the problem always the problem#i can’t remember if my mom loved me or not everyone says she did but i forgot what it feels like#i wish i never told her it was okay to let go i lied to her i said i’d be okay but here i am manic depressive
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daemoninfluff · 1 year
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my brother and me, looking at a map of our city marking all 19 cemeteries, trying to figure out which one's the one our father is buried at cause we have to get the headstone cause his rental contract has expired like
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crunchycrystals · 10 months
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i smelled something that reminded me of a columbarium
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darkbluekies · 10 months
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Talking to the dead
Mafia!yandere x reader
Warnings: dead sibling, mentions of digging up the grave
He's furious that you've escaped. Infuriated that you managed to slip past the guards again. He wants to put a bullet through their chests. They've tracked you down to the cemetery, a weird place, Silas thinks.
He stops dead in his tracks when he sees you sit by a tombstone, talking. There's no one around, who are you holding conversation with? He tells his men to stand by while he sneaks over.
"I'm in danger", you sob and chuckle slightly. "I've put myself in a dangerous situation, you know. I wish you were here. I could need a big sister/brother now. I need guidance. I don't know what to do, I'm so scared. Everything is terrifying." You sigh. "Well, now I've told you everything that has happened since you passed away. Quite the story, isn't it? Yeah ... I really miss you."
Silas sighs and scratches his neck, looking back at his guards, thinking. He knew that your sibling was dead, but he never imagined that he would find you like this.
"Y/N", he says carefully, wanting to catch you attention.
You gasp and hug the stone for dear life.
"Don't take him/her!" you scream in a heartbreaking tone.
Silas walks over to you, sinking down beside you. His heart breaks.
"I'm not going to take them", he reassures you. "Why don't you introduce me? Or have you already done that? I heard you told everything."
You still hug the stone tightly. Silas puts his hand on your shoulder, reassuring you that he won't dig up the grave and steal your sibling. He brings you back and takes a look at the name on the stone before placing his hand on it. I'll protect them, he thinks and hopes that your big brother/sister will hear him, I will die for them.
Silas brings your shaking, sobbing body into his arms and kisses the top of your head. He won't punish you for this, his heart can't allow it.
While taking your defeated form to the car, he turns to his men and tells them to visit the grave every week to plant new flowers, water them, light candles, and clean the stone. And if they ever miss a week, he will kill them.
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
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For the Danny=Ra's Al Ghul thing. Danny comes from a world that only looks like ours on the surface level until you get alternate names like Lake Eerie while we have Lake Erie or the alternate histories like Pandora or even Vortex
Now in our world, Sherlock is used sarcastically whenever someone points out something obvious. Danny might come from a world where Sherlock Holmes isn't as popular and the word "Detective" is used in place of Sherlock. Cue him using that word often and using the same context when dealing with Bruce or Tim to really sell that he's an alternate Ra's
"No shit, Detective"
The words slipped from the boy's lips in such a deadpan tone that for a second, Bruce half thought he imagined it. There was one thing to be told that an alternative version of Ra's al Ghul was caught battling it out with Green Arrow; it was another to be confronted with a teenager who spoke in the confusing lingo of his kids.
Bruce had seen Child-Ghul lose his mind over Go-Gurt alongside his friends- the assassins so dangerous they all earned the nickname of demons- when they happened to come by it in a regular grocery store. They had appeared like normal teenagers visiting the United States for the first time.
In fact, Bruce had yet to be aware that he was observing Ra's. He had been running around Gotham attempting to find the visitors and had accidentally overlooked them because of their genuine glee at finding tubed yogurt.
Even Dick and Damian had seen the same group but also dismissed them. It was strange to fit a version of Ra's Al Ghul, who was happily using hoverboards in the park while his friends recorded the great mass murder thousands of years old.
Tim was the only one who figured him out on sight. Bruce wonders if that was due to his son being incredibly intelligent or if Tim's hatred of Ra ran that deep. If it was the latter, Bruce would bet that even in his next life, Tim would clock Ra's in a crowd.
Red Robin had tracked Child-Ghul and his crew to an old cemetery, where they had been busy cleaning up gravestones. They had even fixed up broken stones and placed the proper offerings for each person.
How they knew which person followed which religion in life was a mystery.
Tim suspected they were attempting to rob another grave. Maybe they had known the people buried there- with Ra's being as young again- or they were trying to do some weird magic thing to save the planet again.
Bruce wasn't so sure.
He observed that the highly trained children cleaned up the cemetery and occasionally had random bursts of dance parties between the graves. He didn't think they were trying to steal anything- instead, they seemed to be suffering from mental illnesses.
Sometimes, one of them would speak to the air, asking it for an opinion on a new grave site. They might have been just regular people in their own world- Bruce had encountered civilian versions of himself and his kids before, so why no villains?- but the idea that Ra's Al Ghul had meta powers, any version, made him paranoid.
It didn't seem possible that Ra's didn't abuse his powers somehow. What could the strangers possibly be doing if it wasn't for world domination?
He got tired of watching and waiting for answers that weren't coming. Batman would force the children to tell him. He waited until the Child-Ghul wandered far away from his group, a bucket and brush in hand, and he arrived at a giant moss-covered stone.
Bruce watched as he greeted the air before sliding to his knees and scrubbing the moss away. His form was all wrong.
That was not a perfect crouch or position that would generate a fast reaction in case he needed it. In fact, the way the boy curved over the stone indicated he would suffer from backache if he sat like that for too long.
The Ra's Al Ghul would never have been caught dead in a similar weakened posture.
Did that mean this version of Ra's had no formal training?
"What do you think you're doing? " He growled, stepping out of the shadows. The boy jumped a good foot in the air, checking another box in his theory of not being trained.
He watched as Child-Ghul spun around, brush held in a sloppy throwing form, before freezing at the sight of him. At once, the tension eased out of his shoulders. He didn't seem afraid of Bruce, which was rather strange.
He built this entire persona to intimidate people at first glance. Yes, he had redesigned himself after learning kids were afraid of him, too, but the original design survived long enough for him to wield his fear tactic as a weapon.
"Ugh, what do you think you're doing walking around looking like that?" the boy sasses, gesturing at Bruce's whole being. "You look like a three-year-old drew you."
That was.....a rather creative insult.
"What are your plans here" He demands, ignoring the comment.
The boy raises a brow. His face twists into an expression he saw on Ra's Al Ghul before, and for a moment, Bruce wonders if Tim had made a mistake. How could Ra's look so humble. "What do you think I'm doing with a brush and a bucket of soap water?"
"You're cleaning the gravestone."
"No shit, Detective"
The phrase was like cold ice water pouring down his back. His pronunciation, facial expressions, and body language were exactly like Ra's.
Tim was right.
"Why?" He demands, stepping closer to tower over the boy.
"If you don't get out of my personal space, Imaginary Vampire Grandpa, we will have a problem." Child-Ghul hisses at him. For a moment Bruce is reminded of Damian.
"Try me."
Child-Ghul's grin is sharp and mad as he yells. "Escort this man to the door!"
Bruce raises his fist, ready for anything, only to literally feel invisible hands grab at him, dragging him out of the cemetery. He is flung out of the gate with the watching teenagers snickering.
Bruce bites back a curse. Of course, a child version of Ra's has ghosts working for him. He'll have to call the Justice League Dark for this. He hopes Zatanna is the one who answers and not her husband.
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aduckwithears · 11 months
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I don't think we're talking enough about how the premise for the 1827 meetup in the cemetery was a date, pure and simple. There was no "uh oh, Aziraphale is in trouble again", no big point in history that both sides needed them to attend, no Arrangement at all... nope, it was an invitation and an accepted invitation. It was literally Crowley saying "hey angel, I saw a thing that you'll find funny (I was thinking about you), come and hang out with me about it" and Aziraphale does.
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And I wonder what would have happened next if they hadn't stumbled across grave-robbing Elspeth and her moral dilemma.
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dclovesdanny · 6 months
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You know those fics where Danny and Damian are twins? What if we made them slightly angstier/different?
What if a bad reveal happens, and Clockwork de ages Danny to the age he was when he ‘died’ with the Al ghul’s?
Meanwhile, Damian had revealed his brothers existence, and a grave was made for his brother on the Wayne cemetery, even though they didn’t have a body.
One night, Jason and Damian go to the grave again, and hear a noise. A scratching sound that Jason knows far too well. Within a second, he starts digging, trying to get to the coffin. Damian notices that both his and Jason’s eyes are glowing, yet he doesn’t feel rage, only curiosity.
Jason finally reaches the coffin and yanks the top open, to reveal a crying de aged Danny, who was scraping at the coffin, thinking his parents buried him. It’s not until he opens his eyes, and sees his twin that he figures out what’s going on.
“Akhi… where are we?”
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prettyfastcars · 6 months
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Owned | Mob!Lando - part 2
Read part 1 here
Summary: Lando finally gets what he wants. Sure he had to use crooked ways to get it, but all’s fair when one is in love, isn’t it? 
Themes: dark!mob!lando, breeding kink, smut, fluff, explicit language
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“Did you do it?” 
You asked as you were both in bed in your apartment, your head resting on his chest while his hand gently caressed your back. Your fingers mindlessly toyed with the chain around his neck. 
Lando had been here with you every single night ever since you’d learned about your ex boyfriend’s tragic accident which happened on the same night you decided to break things off with him. 
That night, you two had an argument and it was messy. After that he stepped out for a walk, then unfortunately got hit badly. The days following the accident were rough. You called Lando the morning after, crying as you told him what happened. He told you not to worry and that he was coming to take care of everything. 
The moment he got there at your doorstep, everything passed by in a blur. You barely even remember the funeral, the headstone at the cemetery, mourning with your ex’s family. All you remember is Lando was right there. 
And now that all of that was over, now that you had taken time to work through your emotions and feelings, and now that you had a taste of normality again, you couldn’t help but ask that question. 
Lando sighed, “What makes you say that, baby?” 
He had taken every precaution. His guys had even made sure there were no cameras around where the ‘accident’ happened. 
“Just wondering,” You murmured. You went to get up, to pull away from him and get out of bed but Lando stopped you by rolling on top of you before you did. The heat of his body, the feeling of his warm skin against yours, suddenly you didn’t want to get out of this bed. Ever. 
“You think I would lie to you about something like this? You think I would put you through all this on purpose?” His pretty eyes looked down at you. His soft lips, his messy hair, that chain hanging from his neck slightly brushing against your chest as he hovered above you. “Hmm?” 
Of course, Lando knew he could never tell you the truth. It was better this way. He hated lying to you, but this was for your own good. He saw the way guilt immediately filled your eyes at the sound of his question. 
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, reaching out to touch his face. “I think I need some more time to process everything.” 
As much as he hated the thought of you being engrossed in the thoughts of another man, he nodded, agreeing. 
He leaned in to kiss the corner of your mouth softly, “The kids miss you.” 
You gave him a slight smile then. “I miss them too.” He had told you that he had hired a temporary nanny for them, until you were ready to come back to work. He also said how they didn’t really like the new nanny and asked about your whereabouts each morning and night. “I’ll be back soon.” You promised. 
He moved his mouth on top of yours and kissed you passionately, biting your lip before shoving his tongue past your lips and kissing you like he’s famished. 
He’d been doing that a lot lately. Whenever he found you too deep in your thoughts, he’d find a way to distract you and make you forget for a while. Most of the time, you both ended up in bed. 
Like right now. 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed him back. You moaned and whimpered, your bare body squirming under his. Lando's mouth left your lips as he kissed his way down your body, pulling the covers away in the process until he settled in between your legs. His handsome face just inches away from your dripping core. 
“I miss having you in my home, you know that?” He whispered before he leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease. “I miss seeing your face when I get home from work.” 
Your body felt hotter and lighter as a pressing need to release formed deep inside you as you felt his tongue stroked your most sensitive parts. He looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. 
“Look at me.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble.
You opened your eyes and supported your upper body up, your elbows digging into the mattress. You watched how his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He maintained eye contact as he licked in between your wet folds again, making you whine as he teased you. His touch was deliberately slow, and pleasurably agonising. 
“Come home with me.” He whispered before he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud until you came undone, thighs shaking as he kissed his way up your body again, hovering over you.  
“I will,” You answered. “Soon.”
“How soon?” He leaned in to kiss you on the lips. 
“Maybe in a couple of days.” 
“You’re torturing me.” 
You couldn’t help but giggle, “Am I?” 
“Yes,” He insisted. “I miss you.” He repeated. “When you come back to me, I’m never letting you leave my bed.” 
You giggled again, running your fingers through his soft hair as he leaned in to kiss you again. His hand slipped in between your legs with ease, caressing your inner thighs again. You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss given how sensitive you were. 
You squirmed under him, and Lando smirked through the kiss as he slid his cock easily into you, pulling your legs up to wrap them around his waist. You moaned out loud again as he filled you up entirely. 
He grabbed both your hands, laced your fingers together with his and pinned your interlaced hands down above your head, whispering as he fucked you slowly, “Gonna put a baby in you.” He gasped, “Then you’ll be mine forever.” He stared into your eyes, lips parted as he fucked you gently. 
His lips found yours again, swallowing your moans while he rolled his hips against yours. He pulled out and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you squirmed under him. 
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He mumbled breathlessly as he pushed deeper into you. “You’d be safe with me, just us and the kids. Huh, baby?” 
“Yes…” You whined. 
He bit your lips, kissed your open mouth, and shoved his tongue past your lips while he pounded into you. Your legs trembled around his waist, he thrust deeper into you fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. 
“I can see it already,” He whispered, “You, walking around with a baby bump, in your little dresses,” He pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen while he kept pounding into you incessantly. “I can’t wait to spoil you rotten, baby. I’ll worship your body even more than I do now, I’ll buy you anything you wanted, fuck I’ll do anything for you.” 
“Oh… Lando, please,” You whimpered. 
You tightened around him as you felt him quicken his pace, pounding into you. You felt the pressure in between your hips grow until you couldn’t hold back anymore. 
His hand toyed with your clit, making you tremble. “Come for me.” He murmured, his voice now deeper. “Take all that cum, it’s all yours, baby. All yours.” 
With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls. 
You couldn’t hold back anymore, and came with a loud moan.
Lando came right after you. He didn’t pull out, but remained buried inside you. Both of you catching your breaths and hearts racing in sync. You were a whimpering mess as he collapsed on top of you. 
“I fucking love you.” He whispered, breathless. 
Lando left in the early hours of the morning. He hated leaving you, but his kids would need him. He left after giving you a soft kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” He murmured against your skin. 
On his way home, Lando got his phone out and immediately pulled up the camera footage. These past days, you’d been sleepier than usual so he had ample time to bring his guys in and have them install even more discreet cameras all over your home. 
He didn’t see it as invading your privacy. But he had to make sure you were alright at all times, right? 
So he watched you as you slept. Warm and safe under your blankets. “Everything’s gonna be okay, baby.” He whispered as he watched you shift around until you found a more comfy position. “I’ll take care of you.” 
He couldn’t have been happier the day you decided to come back to work. Neither could he keep his hands off of you the moment the kids were napping during the day or sleeping at night. 
“You’re moving in with me,” He growled into your ear one night, as he fucked you from behind while you were bent over his desk again. He grabbed you by the hips, pulling your body into him each time he thrust into you. “I don’t want you living in that apartment anymore. You hear me?” 
You whined, barely able to hold on to the desk as he pounded into you. “I can’t…” You gasped, “I can’t just move in, I–,” 
“Why?” He barked, “Why can’t you?” He leaned over you, his damp, warm chest pressing against your back. “Hmm?” 
You turned your head to the side, gasping in pleasure as you tried to form a coherent sentence. “I can’t just… ” You desperately tried to get the right words out. “Maybe later, in a year or two if we’re still–,” 
“Years?” He growled, fucking you harder. Your body crashed against the desk with each of his thrust, and you moaned at how his cock reached all the right places. “And if we’re still what?” 
You whimpered when he bit down on your shoulder before pounding into you harder than before. “Together." You answered. "What if–,” 
Lando pulled out, pulled you up from the desk and twisted you around so you faced him. He did it so quickly you barely processed any of it. One moment you were bent over his desk and the next you were facing him with his hand wrapped around your throat. 
Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes. You secretly loved this side of him. Unpredictable. Wild. Dark. 
“What did you just say to me?” He whispered, his voice surprisingly deeper than you’d ever heard. It made you shiver. “You think there’s even a slight possibility that you won’t end up being mine forever?” He leaned in just enough so his mouth brushed against yours. “You think this is a joke, baby? You think I’m just messing around with you?” 
You trembled as he sat you down on the edge of the desk and slid his cock inside you again. The room was dark, the only light came from the dim scones on the wall and the moonlight coming in from the wide windows. Lando looked angry. 
He tightened his grip around your throat just enough to make you whimper again as he resumed fucking you. “You’re mine.” He hissed. “There is no if,” He kept fucking into you even as you came, moaning and whimpering as you clenched around his cock, “You will be mine forever.” 
You were too far gone, high on the orgasm he’d just given you that you didn’t hear the dark promise dripping from his words as he came inside you. 
— 
A couple of days later, one night as you put the kids to sleep, you received a phone call from a panicked neighbour of yours. What she said over the phone made you rush to Lando, trying to keep yourself from freaking out. 
You found him in his bedroom and you couldn’t help the tears then. 
“What’s going on, baby?” He wrapped his arms around you and held you until you were able to speak again. "What happened?"
“My neighbour called and… they’re being evacuated because–,” You took a deep breath, “My building is on fire, it’s… it’s pretty bad.” You sobbed, hugging him tightly. “My apartment, it’s all gone.”
“Hey, hey,” He cupped your face in his large hands and said, “Calm down, I’m here. Okay? I’ll handle this, baby. Don’t you worry.” 
You buried your face into his chest, sniffling. 
He hugged you tighter, kissing your temple and rubbing your back to comfort you. He hated it, being the reason behind why you were crying. But this was necessary, wasn’t it? You refused to move in with him because you liked your apartment. So he got rid of the apartment. The whole building in fact. 
“I’m sorry, baby.” He murmured against your skin as he repeatedly kissed your forehead while you cried on his shoulder. I had to do it. He thought. How else would we live under the same roof? 
You had no choice but to live with him after that incident. Apparently the authorities couldn’t find what started the fire, and any evidence was probably ash too. 
As much as you missed your cosy apartment, living with Lando was like being in a dream. 
You’d wake up in his arms, spend time with the kids, have breakfast like a family, then Lando would leave for ‘work’ and you’d kiss him goodbye at the door. You’d spend your entire day with the kids, reading, baking, playing in the yard. Then he’d come home and you’d spend the evening like a family again. 
After putting the kids to bed, Lando would always, always drag you straight to bed where you’d fuck until one of you passed out, then resume in the morning and repeat. 
Everything was perfect. 
And just weeks after moving in with him, you found out you were pregnant. When you broke the news to him, he was almost giddy with excitement. 
He refused to leave your side, to the point where he’d try to be home as much as possible and would only ever leave if something desperately needed his attention or intervention. 
Many times you’d find him in the kids’ playroom, talking to them about having a newborn baby around. They were all excited.
It had become impossible for him to keep his hands off you, especially once you started showing. “You’re too beautiful to resist.” He’d tell you. 
You would often wake up to find him wrapped around you, nuzzling your bump and kissing it. He would find you at random times during the day, and pull you into a room or drag you to his office or your shared bedroom and fuck you until you were both completely spent. 
“I can’t get enough of you.” He’d whisper each time. 
You noticed he would be extra careful with you. His touch was soft, he would always fuck you nice and slow, always looking at you to confirm he wasn’t hurting you and that you were enjoying it as much as he was. 
“You don’t have to be so careful all the time, you know?” You whispered to him one night, your hands running through his hair while he laid his head on your bump, kissing it occasionally. “I’m just pregnant, I’m not made of glass.” 
He left a kiss on your bump then lifted his head to look up at you. “Don’t wanna hurt you,” He whispered, “Or the baby.” 
You smiled at him, caressing his pretty face. “We’re okay. You worry too much.” 
He kissed his way up your body, his hips settling in between your legs again. You giggled as he slid inside you again. It was the third, or fourth, time tonight. 
“You never get tired these days, I see.” You whined, back arching off the bed slightly as his mouth latched on to your sensitive nipple while he moved in and out of you in a pace that made you lose your mind. He knew you were extra sensitive these days, and he took full advantage of that. 
Lando ended up hiring a helper to aid you in taking care of the kids. But the kind lady ended up doing all the work and you’d often find yourself with nothing but free time to do whatever you wanted. 
You went to Lando regarding this, and the moment you showed up in his office he pulled you onto his lap and helped you ride him instead. 
“This is a serious…” You gasped as he lifted your hips up before bringing you down his cock again, “...problem.” 
“Mhm,” He mumbled, lips wrapped around your nipple again. His hands held you by the hips and he slowly thrust up into you. “Is it?” 
“Yes,” You argued, placing your hands on his shoulders. You looked down and smiled at your growing bump, before you glared at him, “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? Told me she was just here to help when in fact you hired her to do my actual work.” 
He pulled his mouth away and smirked up at you. “You need rest, baby.” He thrust his hips up slightly harder, deeper each time until you were coming undone all over his cock again. It didn’t take much given how sensitive you were these days. When you both calmed down he said, “Now you have time to do all that you want.” 
“I’m gonna get lazy.” You mumbled as you cuddled up to his side, your bump always got in the way but Lando still got as close as he could to you, wrapping his arms securely around you. 
“You’re carrying our new baby, you’re allowed to be as lazy as you want.” He kissed you on the nose. 
“So what, I’m just gonna be here doing nothing all day? Just read, and bake and make babies for you?” 
“That’s not a bad idea.” He chuckled. 
"Whatever." You groaned, “I’m too tired to be angry at you.” 
He laughed. One of his hands reached out to caress your bump. “Let’s get you in bed.” He murmured against your forehead. “Okay, baby?” 
You nodded. 
By the time he got you cleaned up and in bed, you were already fast asleep. Lando checked on the kids one last time before climbing into bed with you. Pulling you close, he kissed you one more time. 
Everything was perfect, just as he intended. There were some secrets he would take to his grave with him, some he would never share with you. Some truths he would never let come out; mainly the accident, and the fire. 
But this right here was all that mattered, you and him together. 
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dio-niisio · 5 months
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(English is not my first language, so please ignore any mistakes! :-))
Ok I've been imagining a scenario that for some reason Martha and Thomas Wayne are brought back from the dead...
One day they are dead and the other they are starting at their graves, reading their names and being very confused.
Alfred probably finds them first, he looks out the window and sees two people standing in the family cemetery, Wayne Manor had problems in the past with grave robbers, and he would be damned if he let that happen with their grave. So poor Alfred runs, grabbing some old shovel on the way (just to scare, not to harm!), ready to give an ear full on these people. That's when he sees. His friends.
He's surprised to say the least. They don't look young, the years they were gone caught up to them. Thomas has mostly grey hair and Martha had a white strip of hair right in the top of her head...
Alfred doesn't know what to do, so he brings them inside. And starts to prepare some tea while he tries to explain the past 30 something years.
The next person who sees them is Dick, he smelled the tea and was going to get a cup, then he saw the people in the painting on the top of the stairs. And he panicked. Cuz he knows what that implies, and he is worried for his dad.
He introduces himself as 'Bruce's son' which gets them to be a very happy set of grandparents, he tells them the story of when Bruce adopted him (cuz grandpa wanted to meet his mom, in the end he got a nice and tragic story of the flying Grayson's)! And how he always wanted to meet them! He also text Jason, telling him to get his ass downstairs and talk to his family.
Jason almost had a heart attack, he thought that Dick wanted him to talk to Bruce not grandpa and grandma, he's very happy of course, but he's worried for them, resurrection isn't something nice, but they assure him they are as good as they could be. And it is his turn to explain that he's also adopted (they laughed at the tire story, he told them it was one of Bruce's "fancy cars"). He comments that he and Martha have matching hair (both with a white stripe right in the middle).
Tim comes home around noon, he's been spending time with some school friends, and when he hears some commotion in the kitchen he goes to investigate, that's when he sees them and thinks he's hallucinating (again), but he's reassured by a very happy grandma. He tells them he's 'Tim Drake-Wayne', and is his time to explain that no Bruce didn't marry a Drake, he is his legal guardian (aka Dad) cuz when his parents died on a archaeological excavation his uncle was not fit to be his guardian so Bruce stepped up.
Thomas and Martha are so happy in a couple of hours they went from being dead to having 3 beautiful grandchildren! They are very proud of Bruce for making a difference in these boys lives!
That's when Damian walks in the kitchen he just wanted Alfred's help with something, he looks just like Bruce when he was that age (or what they think Bruce would look like), he doesn't look surprised or excited, he just says that he's Bruce's 'biological son', which gets one of his ears pinched by Dick with a very stern 'be nice'. Before they can ask anything they're being hugged by Damian who says that it is nice to have them in here.
When Bruce comes home he's very tired™, he had a day full of meetings on Wayne enterprises and he still gotta do Batman stuff. He passed through the kitchen and saw that his kids had guests over. He doesn't think much of it until he gives a good look at them.
"Mama? Papa?"
And the world stopped spinning. That's them! All he wanted to see since he was an 8 year old little boy. He just doesn't believe it.
He looks just like his dad. Probably a bit shorter (and not rocking the mustache), but he has his mama's eyes. And her smile. He missed her smile so much! He missed his papa's hugs, he missed the lullabies his mama used to sing, he missed playing pretend with his papa, he missed them.
And he can't say a word. He just cries. He hugs them and he cries. His mama and papa are really back! They are back home!
And now it's his turn to catch up! And boy he's got a lot to say!
As they move to the living room Thomas gives this look to Alfred, smiles and says "Thank you for caring for our little boy, old friend!"
"Little boy? I'm sorry Mister Wayne, but that's an understatement. He's almost taller than the cabinets!"
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llovelykenobi · 2 years
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Happy fucking birthday to me
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luveline · 9 months
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hi lovely!! you mentioned bombshell!reader holding spencer's hand the whole time after the whole tobias incident and i wanted to request a more in-depth continuation of that, if it's alright? maybe with reader helping spence with his addiction afterwards too bc i just hate how the team didn't support him properly during that time 😭
There's something cold touching his hand. Actually, there's lots of things happening to his hand. 
Spencer fights to open heavy lashes, closes them again when the white hospital wall bathed in early morning sun burns his retinas. Alert, he realises that the hand in his is sweetly soft, with gentle fingertips holding his marriage finger up higher than the rest. You're playing with his hands while he sleeps.
Spencer opens his eyes again. There's no machine taking his observations, no beeping or whistling or medical ringing to be heard, just the soft huff and puff of your breathing and the sound of your heel tapping the floor. 
There had been more noise last time he woke, but the same amount of you. 
“Spencer?” 
He looks up from your hands holding his to your face. It's not fair, he thinks, how pretty you are, how pretty you continue to be, with your hair, your smile, your ever-smirking lips. You're doing it now, the sight of your painted smile squeezing his heart into a frenzied beating. If they were still taking his observations, he'd die from embarrassment. 
“Hey,” you say, still smiling, hands more insistent on his. 
“Hey. What are you doing here?” 
“What does it look like I'm doing, handsome?” you ask. 
“Did you go home?” 
“Of course I did.” You don't sound truthful. “Want a drink?” 
You pull a bottle of water from your handbag and pass it to him. He has to take his hand from yours to open it, and he wishes he'd said no. Spencer would happily go thirsty to prolong your touch and the security it brings with it. He's antsy as he swallows, a foreign-body feeling pervasive as he caps the drink, puts the bottle aside, and rubs the crust from his eyes. Lank hair falls into his face. 
“You okay?” you ask gently. 
“When can I leave?” 
“Tonight… They want to make sure you're, you know… properly weaned.” Your voice comes out quieter than he's ever heard it before. 
It's as forward as anyone's bothered being about the drugs. The drug, singular. 
Dilaudid is eight times stronger than morphine. Spencer was injected multiple times. His body won't be totally addicted, but he craves the numbness of it already. Whatever he's on isn't cutting through the pain in his legs and feet, nor the memories of being tied up, and all alone. 
“I think I'm gonna be sick,” he says. 
You grab for a blanket off of the edge of the bed to cover his lap as he hangs his head, sure he's going to throw up, but he doesn't so much as heave. The nausea remains anyhow, and worsens as you sit beside his legs. Your hand once again takes his, fingers slotting together as though they were made for this one purpose, your voice a clean, cleaving thing, “Hey, it's alright. It's fine, Spence, you're okay. This is expected.” He curls in on himself. You tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, tugging his hand closer to you in tandem. “You're gonna feel awful for a few days, but I'm right here.” 
“Why are you here?” he asks, confused. 
“Spence.” 
He looks up from under his lashes. 
Your semi-permanent smile seems to have gotten lost somewhere. “Spencer,” you say, attempting to say something without really saying it, eyes glued to his, “where else would I be?” 
He rubs the place between his brows with the heel of his palm. You keep his hand and wrap him in a careful hug. Either you don't notice how desperately he needs a hot shower or you don't care, gracing his cheek with a friendly (and unmissably loving) kiss. It's hard not to cry after that. 
“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you say. You weren't even on the case, but you'd showed up just as soon as you knew he'd been taken, and you haven't left his side since they found him in the cemetery. You don't have a thing in the world to be sorry for. “I'm so sorry. It'll be okay now.” Your voice ripples with surety. 
“Thanks for staying,” he says. 
“You did all the hard work by yourself.” You squeeze his fingers. “I can do the rest, babe.” 
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whumptember · 2 months
Text
2024 Prompt List
ask box | rules | tags and posting
Main Prompts
1. "Don't leave me." chains | failed escape attempt | abandoned building
2. "I can't do this alone." dried blood | begging for help | caretaker's front door
3. "You're my last chance." rusted metal | enemies teaming up | returning home
4. "Don't make me go back." white knuckles | used as bait | ballroom
5. "You've hurt them for the last time." slamming door | rescue | whumper's basement
6. "I never want to see your face here again." torn mask | reluctant villain | hero's headquarters
7. "Let me take care of you!" damp rag | whumpee turned caretaker | bathroom
8. "You'll never see me again." packed bag | secrets revealed | doorway
9. "What did they do to you?" bloodied clothes | homecoming | hospital reunion
10. "I need your help." breaking voice | secret intentions | villain's base
11. "One last favor, then I"ll leave you alone." knife | sacrificing themself | sacred ground
12. "Why did you do it?" new gravestone | confronting whumper | cemetery
13. "I never looked back, and I regret it every day." cracked foundation | city in ruin | middle of the road
14. "You changed my life. not for the better. Now I get to return the favor." blindfold | payback | abandoned warehouse
15. "I'm never going to let you go." silk ribbon | intimate whumper | whumper's bed
16. "What happened to you?" new clothes | recapture | whumpee's old room
17. "This wasn't the deal!" torn contract | betrayed | in the middle of the woods
18. "You're never going to see them again." letter on whumpee's pillow | disappeared in the night | caretaker's apartment
19. "Take me instead!" cloth gag | caretaker turned whumpee | getaway car
20. "I'm always going to be with you." worn letter | mourning | caretaker's bed
21. "I'm not okay." bruised skin | begging for help | hero's doorstep
22. "We have to go back and save them! They'd do the same for us!" drag marks | taken hostage | battleground
23. "You're nothing without me." invisible restraints | hero whumper | basement
24. "Change my mind, tell me why I'm wrong and I'll turn back and undo everything I've done." split lip | hero in the wrong | edge of a roof
25. "Stop it! You're going to kill them!" blood spattered wall | ambush | villain's home
26. "Let them go." blindfold and gag | ransom demand | undisclosed location
27. "Don't forget about me, alright?" packed bag | leaving home | secret destination
28. "I was supposed to save the world." shackled ankles | accidental villain | jail cell
29. "You're a child, go home now and I won't come after you. But if you stay and fight, I won't hold back." hand-made mask | villain mentor | bank vault
30. "What did I say about breaking the rules?" ruler stick | young whumpee | on their knees
Alternate Prompts
1. "You lied to them." 2. Broken wrist 3. "I've done things I can't even think about anymore." 4. Whispered apology 5. "You're coming back, right?" 6. Curled into a ball 7. "You make me feel like I can forget all the bad things." 8. Chained to a car 9. "This is just the beginning." 10. Villain whumpee 11. "Oh, come on, you can take more than that!" 12. Begging 13. "Don't make me."
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little-diable · 2 months
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Unspoken nicknames and lost loves – Dean Winchester (smut)
I crave Dean Winchester as if he's a drug. How insane. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader walked out on Dean and his lifestyle years ago, and yet she has never managed to let go of her love for him. Perhaps a nest of vampires in her town is exactly what needed to happen to bring them back together. Honestly, just pwp.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, mentions some heartbreak and talks about leaving, fluff tho
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (3k words)
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Darkness wrapped itself around (y/n), it crawled up her tired body like a snake slithering through Eden, knowing that chaos would unfold soon enough. The stone bench she was sitting on did little to shield her body from the cold night, leaving her trembling as she waited for his arrival. And yet she didn’t even know if he would show, if he had listened to the panicked voice message she had left hours ago.
Her eyes wandered over the rows of endless graves, trying to decipher the unfamiliar names to keep herself distracted. A part of her wondered why she was so sure that he’d show, after years of silence on her end – years of his calls she had ignored, of sober and drunk messages she had deleted. And yet a small part knew that he’d always come when she called, keeping the promise he had made years ago.
Dean Winchester had always been her enigma, the one she found herself clinging to for years, tied to him from her teenage years on, all until the day where she had packed her bag to leave the brothers and their lifestyle behind. A day that had flipped her life completely, luring her away from the places she had called her home for years on end, ripping it all out of her hands because her anxious overthinking mind had gotten the best of her.
And yet she didn’t regret running, at least not from the unstable lifestyle she had never managed to adjust to. But no matter how many years had passed since that day, she couldn’t shake her longing for the man she had once wanted to marry, the man she had hurt more than words could express, the man she expected to find her in moments of desperation.
“A cemetery, how fitting.” Dean Winchester’s raspy voice rang in her ears, forcing (y/n)’s glassy eyes towards his frame. He towered over her, letting his green eyes dance over her features while hers did the same, taking in every inch of the handsome face she’d never forget, no matter what may happen to her.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d come, but I thought this spot was far away enough for you to at least consider meeting me.” Dean sat down next to her on the bench, letting one arm rest behind her back. It wasn’t the first time she was seeing him again after leaving him, they had run into one another every now and then, and yet it was the first time they were all alone, without Sam or any of her friends near.
“You know I’ll always come whenever you need me, (y/n).” The use of her name cut deeper than she thought it would, instantly missing the nickname he had once used, a familiar sound she craved like a starving woman in need of food. She had to avert her gaze for a moment, no longer able to get lost in the eyes she’d always find, no matter how big a crowd may be, lured towards Dean Winchester like two magnets made to fit.
“So, vampires, huh?” She was glad for the change of topic, all too aware of the doubts that began to grow louder, leaving her to wonder if this had been a mistake.
“You know I don’t want anything to do with this, but I knew I had to call you. I’m sure you picked up on the series of missing people around here, the second I saw them killing that woman, I knew you could help.” Her mouth felt dry, struggling to speak about the things she had sworn she‘d keep away from. But no matter where she was, no matter what she was doing, it seemed as if there was no way out of this mess she had once lived through.
“I will call Sam, we will take care of this.“ Dean‘s hand found her knee, softly squeezing it before he dropped it once again, instantly making her miss the soft touch. (Y/n) couldn’t stop herself from smiling at him, allowing her a handful of seconds to properly look at the man her heart was still aching for.
“You can stay at mine for the few days you two will be around, if you want.“ The offer had rolled off her tongue before (y/n) could even have tried to stop it. For a moment, Dean kept quiet, not speaking up while she silently cursed herself for making this even harder for her. But before (y/n) could try to pull the offer back, Dean let go of a soft hum.
“That would be nice, thank you.” A soft smile was shot her way before he rose to his feet, letting his hands disappear in the pockets of his trousers. Both allowed one another to have one last look, giving the moment an almost melancholic touch before Dean parted his lips once again. “Sam will call you once we’re on the way. Be careful, (y/n).”
And all she could do was watch Dean Winchester leave her side once again, taking another piece of her heart with him.
……
“Thank you for letting us stay, (y/n). I’m sure this isn’t easy for you.” Sam had his hand placed on her shoulder, holding her close while Dean was taking a quick shower. She had missed having Sam around, the one she had kept in touch with over the past years, desperate for updates on the man she still longed for.
“I’m happy to see you, both of you.” She didn’t manage to speak another word, didn’t want to dwell on the feeling of regret and anxiety simmering inside of her. All she could do was turn from Sam, focusing on the bottles of beer she had bought, very well knowing that some things won’t ever change when it comes to the Winchester brothers.
“Shower’s free.” Dean’s raspy voice lured Sam from her side, forcing (y/n)’s eyes to Dean who leaned against the door frame with wet hair and clothes that hugged his frame a tad bit too well. With heat clinging to her, (y/n) tried to busy herself with preparing some snack, anything she could do to keep her eyes from wandering back to Dean.
“It’s a nice place you’ve got here.” He plopped down in one of the chairs, shooting her a grateful smile as she reached a beer out for him to take. (Y/n) was grateful that he hadn’t commented on the pictures she had hung up around her place, old memories of her and the two brothers, of shared friends and long lost loved ones. She was grateful that he didn’t tease her about any of them, well aware of the way she had struggled without them close, even though she had been the one who had decided to run.
“It’s enough for now.” His hum rumbled through him, echoing through the kitchen like a cry she struggled to keep bottled in. “So, no boyfriend or roommate you share this place with?”
“Oh come on, Dean.” (Y/n) scoffed at his words while shaking her head. She knew that he couldn’t be this oblivious, unaware of the heartache she had caused them both and still hadn’t managed to overcome. Even back then, when she had left him, (y/n) had known that no other man would ever come after him, after the one she had loved more than life itself, the brightness to her darkest days, the air she needed to breathe. She was choking without him, dying a slow death she was to blame for.
“What? Don’t tell me you haven’t been with anyone, it’s been years, (y/n).” Dean’s words cut deep, dripping with spite. She couldn’t stop her body from turning towards him, from staring at him with glassy eyes that were filled with unshed tears. She wasn’t stupid, was well aware that Dean had been with many women, spending nights or even weeks with them, at least until another hunt called him and Sam away. And yet she didn’t manage to swallow her jealousy, the biting sensation that left a bitter taste on her tongue.
“I haven’t, and I doubt I ever will.” With her back turned towards him, (y/n) kept her eyes focused on the kitchen island she was leaning against, palms pressed flat against the cold material. She had to blink away her tears, unable to stop a few from rolling down her warm cheeks. The sound of his chair screeching rang in her ears, followed by the sounds of his feet softly meeting the ground, telling her that Dean was moving closer.
“Look at me, (y/n).” His hands found her waist, turning her front back towards him. His green eyes were filled with pain, a sensation so strong, it forced a sob right out of (y/n). Wordlessly he wiped her falling tears away while a soft smile played on the lips she had last kissed years ago. “Talk to me, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“It’s so pathtic, god, fuck.” Her eyes fluttered close, she didn’t endure looking at him any longer, needing a few moments to deeply inhale some new air. Dean kept his hand placed on her cheek, holding onto her while silence wrapped itself around the two ex-lovers who clung to one another as if it was their final moment together.
“I know it’s my fault. I walked away, I couldn’t cope with this life. But I left my heart with you, I knew that I won’t ever get to love another person the same way I love you. And for a while I thought I could live with that, away from you and that unstable life. But now,” a shaky breath left her as her eyes flickered back to his. “Now I am no longer so sure about that.”
Dean pulled her into his chest, letting his chin rest on her head while another sob clawed through (y/n). With every passing moment, it felt as if Dean was tightening his grip on her, scared that she’d run before he found the strength to reply.
“You know, I was angry at you for leaving, probably for years. But the older I get, the more I understand it. It wasn’t fair of us to drag you into this, to force you to move around and live without any perspectives while we were both so young. You deserve better and I’ve accepted that. But I also always knew that you were it for me, no other person will ever manage to make me feel that love we shared.” His words felt like another punch to her gut, forcing her through these memories she had tried to drown with the love she had once felt – unsuccessfully.
“I don’t want to let go of you, Dean. I know I have to, but I don’t know how much longer I can live with this pain.” With his hand finding the back of her neck, he pulled her tear-stained face away from his broad chest. She was high on his scent, the comfortable scent she had craved to smell for years. His thumb rang along her lower lip, feeling the bite marks her teeth had left behind while trying to stop herself from speaking up.
He didn’t have to ask for permission as he dipped his head down to kiss her, to press his lips against hers like he had once done numerous times each day. Instantly, she felt hurled back in time, letting herself fall back into a familiar routine as her arms found their way around his neck and his tongue met hers.
Only as the sound of Sam nearing managed to reach them did they pull away from one another. Breathlessly, they looked at one another for a handful of seconds before she turned back towards the snacks and Dean moved towards the chair he had been sitting on.
“So, how’s life around here, (y/n)? Is it as quiet as you wanted it to be?”
……
“Dean?” She mumbled his name as she woke to the feeling of someone slinging their arms around her frame to pull her against a broad chest. (Y/n) could instantly tell that it was Dean, wrapping her in his comfortable embrace as she shuffled around, needing to look up at him.
“I can’t stop thinking about what you said to me earlier.” His confession filled her bedroom, weighing heavy on both their souls. Slowly, she moved her hand up his shirt, letting it rest on his chest while her fingers traced his exposed collar bones.
“I meant it, every part of it.” The heavy exhale that followed her words interrupted their silence, drawing their eyes back to one another. It felt like a deja-vu, happening just like hours ago where he had finally kissed her again after all these years. Their lips melted together, hearts and souls intertwined while he pulled (y/n) on top of him.
“Do you want this? I need you to be sure, sweetheart.” Her heart skipped a beat at the use of his old nickname for her, leaving her dazed while a soft “Yes” managed to leave her slightly swollen lips. Without letting go of her, Dean flipped them around, hovering over her while he got rid of his shirt. He took his time, teasing her for a few moments before he exposed his upper body to her wandering eyes.
Dean allowed her to trace his marks, to explore the skin she had once been all too familiar with, needing a few seconds to adjust once again. But he grew impatient all too quickly, letting his hands disappear beneath her shirt to pull it from her frame. Within seconds his mouth found her chest, kissing their way to her naked breasts.
(Y/n)’s quiet moans were like fuel to the fire, begging him to suck on her hardening nubs while she bucked her hips, feeling his hardening cock press against her covered heat. Nothing could happen now to pull them away from one another, to stop them from what was about to unfold, they were too far gone, set on moulding a perfect mess they never wanted to get rid of again.
“It’s been too long, I need you, need to feel you inside of me, Dean.” She was proud of herself for even finding her words while he kept rubbing himself against her, leaving her bundle of nerves pulsing. His eyes flickered up to hers, filled with a teasing anticipation that shook right through her like lightning striking her body. All while she laid still, with her hands resting next to her as if she was scared to touch him, to mess something up.
“You’re still such a needy girl for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” With her breath hitched in her chest it felt as if she was drowning, drowning in everything Dean Winchester emanated. He rose back to a sitting position, chasing the distance between them to pull her panties down her legs before he stepped out of his boxers. (Y/n)’s greedy eyes wandered up and down his naked body, thanking whoever was listening for giving her a second chance.
“I want you bare, let me feel you.” She trusted him, knew that Dean would never risk harming her in any way, and yet she didn’t dare look at him while speaking the words that drew a gritty moan from Dean. He found his way back to her, hovering over (y/n) while he dipped his head down to kiss her. The kiss seemed to wake her from her state, letting her hands find their way up his neck to his hair, tugging on the soft roots to wordlessly beg him for more.
Dean brushed the tip of his cock through her slit, spreading her arousal on her skin before he finally sank into her. A loud moan left the both of them in unison, a sound he tried to swallow with another kiss pressed to her parted lips. He gave them a few seconds before he started to fuck her with slow thrusts, enjoying every second of their all too intimate reunion.
It felt like a dream, a surreal experience she was only dreaming about but would never experience in real life. Having Dean oh so close, being buried beneath him while he fucked her with calculated thrusts that made black dots appear in her vision – a dreamy state she never wanted to escape from.
“Look at me, pretty girl. Let me see how good I’m making you feel.” Dean’s teasing words dripped with confidence, leaving her buzzing in heat as her eyes snapped towards his. They held eye contact while his thrusts grew faster, knowing that they couldn’t drag this out even if they wanted to. Too many years had passed, years they had been forced to spend without the other near, years they were now trying to make up for.
“I love you, Dean.” She wouldn’t have managed to stop the words from leaving her even if she had tried to. Words that left him chuckling in delight before he repeated them, making her heart flutter in her chest. A blissful state that only grew more prominent as she sneaked her hand between her bodies to rub her pulsing bundle.
“I want you to cum with me, don’t let go yet, sweetheart.” (Y/n) could only let go of a choked sound while she clawed her fingernails into his shoulders, trying to stop herself from letting go. They kept looking at one another until Dean finally nodded his head, allowing her to let go as his ferocious thrusts pushed them over the edge.
Both moaned in unison as they came together, breathless sounds they couldn’t care about. The blinding sensation felt as if they were burning alive, robbing them of their breath while they were certain that it had never felt this good before.
“I’m sorry for leaving, Dean.” (Y/n) mumbled the words into the darkness of her room. She clung to him as he slowly pulled out of her, only to plop down on the mattress right next to (y/n).
“I’m sorry for just letting you go. I will never be this blind again, sweetheart.”
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00-jammy-00 · 6 months
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Helloo!!^_^
Could I request a yan who everyone likes? Like nobody would suspect yan!
I guess golden retriever!yan? Maybe darling tries to say something but nobody believes them because they think darling is trying to ruin yan’s reputation ? :33
Btw could I be 🍯 anon?
Yan!GoldenBoy HC’s
Yan!GoldenBoy x GN! Reader
Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, nsfw mentions, possessiveness, stalking, yan has mood swings, he’s a little bitch.
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Yan!GoldenBoy who was good looking. He could get anything he wanted with a hand through his hair and a flash of his charming pearly whites. He knew he was handsome, he knew people trusted him, he knew all this and he knew it would only make it easier to get you.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who has been obsessed with you for months! He was playing basketball for his school when he saw you for the first time. You were just sitting on the benches, none of that cringe ‘they were reading a book instead of paying attention.’ you were simply watching the game but you looked so radiant while doing it, he couldn’t help but rush over when the game finished.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who tripped over his own feet to chase you down near the exit, he put an arm around your shoulders and flashed that charming smile. He talked to you for a few minutes, making sure to totally not brag about the fact he was the captain of the basketball team, he was really humble you know?
Yan!GoldenBoy Who offered you a car ride home with those gorgeous honey coloured eyes yet was completely shocked when you said no. You said…no? What the fuck does no mean? Who the fuck do you think you are?! You’re lucky he doesn’t fucking kill you!
Yan!GoldenBoy Who just gives you a sweet smile and insists only to clench his jaw when you refuse again. God you’re making this so fucking hard, you’re gorgeous, you’re everything, which means you’re meant to be his for fucks sake.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who vows he’ll never leave you alone. You’re destined to be his, you’re perfect, he’s perfect, so you have to be together, you’re soulmates! He uses a few favours to find out everything about you. Your address, who your family is, where you work, your favourite brand, what your favourite scent is, your zodiac sign, blood type, what hospital you were born at, what cemetery you might want to get buried at. You know, the usual stuff.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who is practically drooling as he jerks himself off to your underwear which he had…borrowed…from your house on his last so called visit. He had cum so much he was having dry orgasms babe! Why do you still not want him?! He could be so good for you!
Yan!GoldenBoy Who sits in his nice car with a pair of binoculars to make sure nothing strange is happening in your room. He’s just keeping you safe, what if someone comes around and tries to steal you?! Don’t worry, your boyfriend is here for you, he’ll protect you. Your boyfriend…god just the idea of being your boyfriend makes him hard all over again.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who doesn’t care if he has to beat the shit out of some people. Your classmate was found with a ripped open chest and a missing heart? That’s terrible babe, but he can be your lab partner now! That one annoying bitch in your class had a bullet between her eyes and her heart missing just like your classmate? How tragic! Don’t worry, you’re safe with him.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who delivers special presents to your door every time a little rat decides to try and ruin his plans. Maybe if he gifts you the hearts from his victims, you’ll let him into yours <3
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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3
please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.
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harrowharkwife · 9 months
Text
i'm so used to there just being random unidentified bones laying around everywhere in these damn books that it finally occurred to me, just now, to wonder where the bones on new rho came from. y'know, the bones palamedes always tried to teach nona necromancy on.
they're his.
palamedes, who always loved teaching, living on borrowed time in a body that's not his own. palamedes, mentoring, teaching- parenting, by sixth standards, mind you. and that boy is sixth, through and through.
and the entire point of teaching nona necromancy in the first place was to try and determine if nona is, well, nonagesimus, right? so it has to be bones, it can't not be bones. bones are, like, her whole thing.
but they're not in the nine houses, anymore. things are different, on new rho.
they burn bones here. dig up the cemeteries. a society terrified of zombies will evolve to dispose of its dead differently.
the only bones he has access to now are his own. (camilla wouldn't let anyone take them- skull or hand, doesn't matter. they're still him, and she doesn't let go, remember? it's her one thing.)
palamedes woke up every morning wearing someone else's body to then gently place the shrapnel of his own in the cupped palms of a girl who's the closest thing he'll ever have to a daughter and try to teach her- how did the angel put it, again? normal school, as much as possible, for as long as possible.
(but hey, in a roundabout way, at least it's a chance for him to touch camilla again, right? nevermind that she's not there to feel any of it because he's in the driver's seat, that he can only stay for fifteen minutes at a time. it's atoms that belong to camilla touching atoms that used to belong to him, and that's close enough. he'll take what he can get, these days- if she can be their flesh, he can be the end. so what if holding his own bones is a mindfuck? so what if looking at them makes him nauseous? surely he can suck it up and deal with it for fifteen minutes. it's the least he can do— his poor camilla was the one who had to scrape the bloody pulp of them off the floors of canaan house.)
(speaking of, here's a fun fact: we actually only see nona practicing with the bones one time, on-page. camilla's final line in that scene, before palamedes takes over, is none other than: 'keep going. there are some bones left.' ow!)
remember, too, that the only part of dulcinea, the real dulcinea, that palamedes ever physically touched, was her tooth- the one that ianthe gave him, pulled from the ashes cytherea burnt her down to. he only ever touched dulcie once, and it wasn't until after she was already gone, but that doesn't matter- it still happened, and you can't take loved away.
in this same roundabout, bittersweet, by-proxy sort of way, palamedes has been physically touched by nona, too: the atoms she currently occupies, touching atoms that he used to occupy, and never will again.
the main interaction we've seen between palamedes and his mother took place back on the sixth, with her acting as mentor and him as pupil: the two of them studying a set of hand bones, juno encouraging him every step of the way.
we know that harrowhark's "most vivid memory of her mother was of her hands guiding harrow's over an inexpertly rendered portion of skull, her fingers encircling the fat baby bracelets of harrow's wrists, tightening this cuff to indicate correct technique."
they're still small for a nineteen year old, but the wrists are bigger, in this new set of memories nona's making. and it's not an inexpertly rendered portion of skull anymore- it's a hand, now, albeit one crafted from [a piece of skull reassembled (painstakingly—passionately—laboriously reassembled) from fragments, manually, and not by a bone magician, from the skull of someone who, soon after death or symptomatically during, had exploded.] and the identity and origin of these bones is no mystery at all. they belong to palamedes, and he's consented to their use for this purpose, and that matters.
but the details are just set dressing, really. the foundation of the memory is the same.
palamedes and his mother, juno and her son.
harrow and her mother; pelleamena and her daughter.
nona and her father-mother-teacher; palamedes and his daughter.
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