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#maybe i'll post the old one too . who's to say
dcxdpdabbles · 1 day
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Based on this post here https://www.tumblr.com/ourrechte-blog/740959709140484096
Danny and the latest incarnation of the Demons ends up in Star City. They're doing ninja stuff as a way to get resources and find a way home. Green Arrow overhears mentions of "Great One" and "Demon's Head" and maybe Dani is there and gets called dahlia and it's misheard as Talia
Ollie: Batman, come over here and get your de-aged villains
Bruce: What makes you so sure they're mine?
Ollie: They're ninjas and their leader, who kicked my ass, is referred to as "Great One" so yes, I'm sure these are the League of Assassins under an alias. Or clones
Ra's finds this entire thing hilarious. Damian, not so much
Oliver is not having a good time. He noticed some shady activity going down in his city's underbelly and decided to investigate. Star City wasn't as crime-infested as Gotham, but it wasn't sunshine and rainbows either.
It was far better hidden, but corruption ran amok in his home, so he had to run around to get things fair. He noticed the ninjas only after a while of them being in town. At first, they seemed focused on gaining territory.
They moved from the poorest neighborhoods to the richest, slowly beating out the top dogs. It seemed the leader had the same mentality of prison- beat the toughest person on his first day and become the new number one. Usually, that wouldn't work with such solid and old operations, but somehow, the ninjas were doing it.
They cut off resources. It causes discord in the lackey's ranks. Pulled funding from who knows where. And Blackmailed the rest into submission.
It was a hostile takeover. A plague on the control of the criminal empires station in Star City.
And there was nothing Oliver could do to stop them. He felt like a fumbling medic during a pandemic. Too many areas were affected before he could arrive, and too many loose ends were tied before he could gather enough information to know what they were trying to accomplish.
He contacted the Justice League when it became clear that it was too much for his team to handle. They sent over Dinah Lace and Gregory Sanders (Much to the joy of his bi-heart), who helped him trace the pathway the ninjas were taking, but ultimately, they were unable to catch up.
"It's like chasing ghosts," Gregory complains, his red bandana moving with his mouth. His eyes are scanning the towering buildings, fiddling with his guns. "I see them for only a second, and they are much faster than any of my bullets."
"It doesn't help that one of them is a meta with a similar power to mine," Dinah agrees. She was the closest to the taller figure, attempting to use her Canary Cry to capture him. Imagine her surprise when the figure turned and returned a cry of its own, easily overpowering Dinah's and flinging her away. "We might need a Speedster"
"And a Bat," Olver sighs. "They're far too slippery. A Bat should be able to devise a plan that might work for them. My tactical strategies are falling short."
"How painful was that for you to admit?" Dinah asks with a smirk.
"I'm choking on my blood," He deadpans, causing her to laugh. At once, Olover's heart launches in his chest. She has the loveliest laugh. He throws her a smile that he knows is disgustingly gooey, and her eyes crinkle with the gentleness she reserves for him.
"I overheard them speaking for a bit before one of them heard my guns click," Gregory says, eyeing the two of them like he knows they are flirting but won't point it out. He's a spoilsport. "One of them identified the other. Does the name Talia mean anything to ya'll?"
Crude. Whatever good mood Olvier was in for making Dinah smile is crushed with sudden dread.
"Yeah, it does. Especially if it was anywhere near the words "Demon Head" or "Great One," He wearily. At Gregory's nod, he covers his eyes with one hand, feeling a headache build behind his right eye. It's a familiar headache. It usually pops up whenever Bruce Wayne's love life is mentioned.
"I'll call the Big Bad Bat. He'll get her to stop or kiss her. Whatever works. " Oliver sighs, even heavier than before.
"Why?" Gregory asks mystified
"That's Bat's ex."
There is a very long pause before Gregory's guns click again. A rigid set to his shoulders and rage appear in his eyes. "The young girl is Batman's ex? Good to know."
"Young girl? No, Talia is about my age." Dinah cuts in. "Are you sure she answered to Talia?"
The safety is switched back on as Gregory relaxes."Yes. She appeared to be twelve years old or so, with white hair and green eyes. Does that match Batman's honey?"
"Not even close. I mean, the green eyes, sure, but the rest is wrong." Oliver hums. "So we aren't dealing with Bat's girl, which is good for us. The League of Assassins is a pain. Also very dangerous."
Vigilante's eyes widen at the mention of the ninja group's name. "I heard of the organization but was unaware of the members. Is this Talia important in it?"
"She's the big boss's daughter," Dinah confirms. "Also, one of the bloodthirsty and cruelest members."
"That's not very nice," a young voice cuts in, startling the heroes. They leap away from the roof edge, watching a boy with glowing white hair flout over it, crossed-armed. "My daughter is a goddam delight."
"Ra's," Olver shutters. Yes, he looks younger and glowing, but Oliver would never forget that monster's face. He appeared often in his nightmares about the island.
The boy tilted his head. "You know me."
Oliver pulled the string of his bow, training the arrow on the figure; beside him, Gregory had his guns up and ready while Dinah had planted her feet in her preferred combat position. "I never forget a face."
"There is a version of me here," the boy hums, implying so many things that make the three heroes uneasy. "Maybe I wasted time gathering resources when I should have gone looking for the other Fentons."
"What do you mean by that?" Dinah demands, but the boy is already looking away and snapping his fingers.
"Guys! There are other Fentons here!"
Five figures fly up from over a building. Two are glowing, and three are wearing bulky power suits. Oliver's breath catches in his throat. Younger versions of the Demons. The same assisans whose abilities build Ra's empire and are the only ones to control them- the reason he is known as the Demon Head.
"That's great, Danny!" A girl with orange hair cries. She's inside the power suit, and Oliver knows her by her codename. Claw.
"Maybe we can have your dad make us some fudge." A dark-skinned boy licks his lips. He also appropriates a power suit but seems far more decked out for support. Makes sense, seeing as he obviously Scales.
"Let's go. The faster we get home, the faster I can make Vlad by me an island." A glowing teen rolls his eyes. His flaming hair does nothing to take away the fact he is Fang.
"Which way?" the little girl, Talia, asks, making a small circle in the air.
"I saw we find destruction and follow that. It's bound to lead us to them. We can cause chaos on the way." The last girl offers. She points the hand of her supersuit to the west with a nasty grin. It's Shadow. "Can't be worse than the Black Plague incident."
"How was I supposed to know the rats were dangerous!" Ra scoffs, face red in embarrassment. Which would have been amusing if he didn't just admit he caused thousands of lives to end. Oliver really does not like the implications one bit.
"Everyone. Don't you read any history books?"
"I don't need no books to tell me. I was there!"
Oliver thinks they are distracted enough to risk taking a shot. His bowstring snaps into place as his arrow flies towards the closest one. Claw's reaction time is as fast as he remembers because she had already shot the arrow out of the sky before it could go anywhere near Talia. The foam meant to hold her in place burst, covering the six from view.
Gegory's bullets hit it seconds after, burying deep within the hardened foam. The sharpshooter springs to the right, looking for a better target, but it's in vain.
When the foam falls, everyone behind it is gone, and Oliver is reminded that they face ninjas. Gregory lowers his weapon with a frustrated click of his tongue.
What in the world was going on! They were all de-age and somehow powered up. None of this was good.
"We need to call Batman," Dinah says in the silence. "This may be out of our league even with them turned into children."
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kangals · 10 hours
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way back in 2014, probably a few weeks or months after you posted that picture of boone with the stick on his head, i checked your blog out and so dearly enjoyed all the dogposting that i followed. i think you were the first dogblr blog i actually followed at the time, but it's been ages and my memory is bad, so i'm not fully sure. it wasn't long before then--2012 i think?--that i had gotten a new dog of my own, a border collie. iirc he and boone were just about the same age.
in 2018 i lost that blog i'd followed you with, and a lot of connections with it. i didn't return until 2021, and when i did, i didn't refollow most of the old blogs; i don't think i even really went looking for them. it took me a while to get back into the swing of using tumblr.
last september, my border collie had a sharp health decline, and i had to say goodbye. it's not the first time i've had to put a pet down, but i think it was the hardest. i'm still not over it. even just typing this now, i feel raw.
then in march or so, i made a new fandom friend who knows you, and i enthusiastically recalled following you before and how much i enjoyed it. i didn't even know about stellina, and now there's kep too! but... i also didn't know you'd lost boone. i followed because i still really enjoy your blog, and i love your collies too. and butters!!! so glad she's still here!
idk what made me look tonight... maybe because i talked about my old border collie with someone today. i went looking for the posts immediately around when you lost boone, because i guess some part of me wanted to know what happened. i spent the better part of an hour (maybe longer?) reading posts from the weeks before the decline, and then the loss, and then the deluge of old boone pictures after, and i've been crying pretty much the whole time just reading your posts and tags about him.
and this is a long and windy way to get to saying thank you. i'm glad you shared your grief, though that seems like a weird thing to say. there's something cathartic about crying over someone else's dog when you still hurt about your own, and knowing you're not alone in that kind of sorrow. boone was such a beautiful boy. i'll never forget that silly post that made me check your blog out in the first place, or the years of posts i stuck around for after. i wish i'd remembered to follow sooner, but the archive is still there, and it's so fun looking through all those old posts about him and his quirks and antics. he was amazing.
sorry for the length of this, i just... really wanted you to know that he touched yet another life, i guess. and i've been so deeply enjoying your posts about stellina and kep. i know it'll be a year soon... i hope there's some peace in how things have gone since he passed, and i hope the anniversary isn't too hard on you. thank you for sharing him with us.
i've been on tumblr for 14 years and this is, genuinely, the nicest ask i think i've ever been sent.
thank you - sincerely. there's been a lot of times over the course of this blog that i've felt like i was oversharing, or talking about pointless things only i cared about. i still so frequently start typing out a post only to stop mid-sentence and delete it because i can't help but think "no one cares about this." possibly it's why i like to talk about my pets so much - they're not me, but i'm the one who knows them best, so i get to say "hey look at this" and ramble and have people say "i'm looking" back. when boone passed, i lost that filter and i poured my grief out into this blog because it was the closest outlet i had. and to have hundreds of people not only acknowledge this but to commiserate, to reassure, to share their own stories - that helped healed me more than i can put into words. it's exactly as you said: there's a catharsis in grieving together.
i am sorry you also had to say goodbye. i wish i could say it gets easier, but i think that would be defeating the point of grief. your grief is your love and damn it if there isn't any act more loving in the world than choosing to say goodbye to an old, loyal dog. you think of how dogs were domesticated tens of thousands of years ago, of how human society and dogs have developed intertwined, of how we have records of ancient greeks and romans carving loving epitaths on their dog's graves, of how a prehistoric dog's skull was found with a bone placed in it's mouth after death, and you wonder if grieving a dog isn't one of the most consistent experiences in the whole of human history that there is.
i'm glad to know that this could bring you some comfort, in some way. it's incredibly touching to know that you kept me and boone in your thoughts for all this time. i am doing ok - i've been reflecting a lot as we approach the one-year mark. i'm not sure if i'll be able to condense those thoughts down into coherent words, but i'll do my best. i hope that my silly little pets continue to bring you some happiness, and that you've found peace with your own grief.
thank you, again - this is extremely touching and means a hell of a lot to me.
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twinkpriest · 1 year
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i did a goth kid lineup about a year ago soooooo uh here’s a slightly newer and improved one. slay
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heffrondriving · 11 months
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soooo. that new big time rush album huh
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bellflower-goat · 10 months
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anyways fucking. fucking hell
#Dear fuck why is this shit so hard#Who cares if I say it once in the notes of a post noone will read anyways#just. fucking hell people aren't lying when they say that this age is the fucking worst to live in#I just wanna hope that things will get better I am gripping that promise so so hard rn#I'm just so goddamn tired and. just.#At least when I'm older I'll have the possibility to dissappear and never hear or talk or deal with these people ever again#Just. fucking god this is hard#and everyone says to keep going caus things will get better. I don't have any hope anymore but I guess I just gotta keep going#And I wanna make a big deal out of everything and make so many people hurt with that one permanent desition but I know it aint#worth it and stuff. just fucking hell.#was it so hard to ask to live somewhere safe. I just want to worry abt normal things#I dont wnat to have to do things that don't suit me I shouldn't be doing any of this I should just worry abt.#who fucking knows. I should be able to just worry about dumb internet drama and using soci.al media too much or whatever#But I can't worry about that that's just not how it works#And I remember that maybe I could have a nice life where. where I get to breathe for once and I get to be happy and taken care of#And then I get hope and I tjink things can change and then i am forced to remember what happens when I dare to think such dumb shit#things won't change. at least not now. no hope just gotta endure this shit and wait till I am old enough to just. get out of here and never#Look back and stuff.#maybe I'll get to do that.and I'll be happy and everything will be alright#It's hard to imagine that will happen. Most likely won't. but I dont know#And here I am. I should be saying this to my the.rapist or some shit but instead I'm venting on a tumblr blog just.#I should probably go to sleep#just. How naive of me to think that things would have gotten better.#And a part of me thinks it's stupid to say this shit here like it feels like I'm just doing this for attention or some shit and I dunno#Maybe I am doing it for attention. hoping that someone will read this dumb little cry for help and at least tell me that I'll be alright#but I know that won't happen but still I do this. just in case
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chirpingchorus · 10 months
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chirp
(long and silly rant in tags so maybe don't open them if you're scrolling at a leisurely pace)
#chirp#the photos aren't enough...#i say with 25 queued...#inane and sudden desire to become a gifmaker has overtaken me :0#would probably take a lot more time + effort than what i already do but i imagine most of these photos have been posted before...#so even if i've never seen them around i sometimes feel bad in posting them#i don't really watch many concerts though#whereas i read the interviews just to try and see what inspired the songs. good album recs from the band. so on so forth.#its worth it bc every few years they'll get an interviewer who's a total music theory nut#still love the guy who confronted thom about his use of pedal tones.... and geeked out about the creep progression. he gets me.#not to mention seeing all the people who interviewed them in their early days bring up stuff like pop is dead ten years later just because#and then there's the fun facts like nigel telling them they couldn't eat until they were done with 2 + 2 = 5. mad dog selway.#thom insisting 5 or 6 times so far that hail to the thief is a sexy record... why... but you get the idea#not sure why i'm saying any of this or what the Point of this set of tag ramblings is supposed to be uhh.#maybe i'll make gifs in the future but there are a lot more interviews to go... and lots of old ones i want to look at again...#and even more to chase down if they're not up on citizeninsane. so i might be all rh'd out (impossible) by then.#i'm also not reading the interviews For the photos or ''clout''... it's for the anecdotes. my doc for notes on them is literally the size o#a middle grade novel... Oops ! but yeah the photos are pretty recent. i've been at this since like december on and off.#and who knows maybe i will grow tired of the pictures or they will somehow cease to be entertaining!#or i will get a life and not spend hours a day reading interviews... it's not too bad an addiction. cause i'll be done soon.
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Please, if you can, take a moment to read and share this because I feel like I'm screaming underwater.
NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) stigma is rampant right now, and seems to be getting progressively worse. Everyone is using it as a buzzword in the worst ways possible, spreading misinformation and hatred against a real disorder.
I could go on a long time about how this happened, why it's factually incorrect (and what the disorder actually IS), why it's harmful, and the changes I'd like to see. But to keep this concise, I'll simply link to a few posts under the cut for further reading.
The point of this post is a plea. Please help stop the spread of stigma. Even in mental health communities, even around others with personality disorders, in neurodivergent "safe" spaces, other communities I thought people would be supportive in (e.g. trans support groups, progressive spaces in general), it keeps coming up. So I'm willing to bet that a lot of people on this site need to see this.
Because it's so hard to exist in this world.
My disorder already makes me feel as if I'm worthless and unlovable, like there's something inherently wrong and damaged about me. And it's so much harder to fight that and heal when my daily life consists of:
Laughing and spending time with my friends, doing my utmost best to connect and stay present and focused on them, trying to let my guards down and be real and believe I'm lovable- when suddenly they throw out the word "narcissist" to describe horrible people or someone they hate, or the conversation turns to how evil "people with narcissistic personality disorder" are. (Seriously, you don't know which of your friends might have NPD and feels like shit when you say those things & now knows that you'd hate them if you knew.)
Trying to look up "mental health positivity for people with npd", "mental health positivity cluster bs", only to find a) none of that, and b) more of the same old vile shit that makes me feel terrible about myself.
Having a hard time (which is constant at this point) and trying to look up resources for myself, only to again, find the same stigma. And no resources.
Not having any clue how to help myself, because even the mental health field is spitting so much vitriol at people with DISORDERS (who they're supposed to be helping!) that there's no solid research or therapy programs for people like me.
Losing close friends when they find out, despite us having had a good relationship before, and them KNOWING me and knowing that I'm not like the trending image of pwNPD. Because now they only see me through the lens of stigma and misinformation.
Hearing the same stigma come up literally wherever I go. Clubs. Meetings. Any online space. At the bus stop. At the mall. At a restaurant. At work. Buzzword of the year that everyone loooves loudly throwing around with their friends or over the phone. Feels awesome for me, makes my day so much better/s
I could go on for a long time, but I'm scared no one will read/rb this if it gets too much longer.
So please. Stop using the word "narcissist" as a synonym for "abusive".
Stop bringing up people you hate who you believe to have NPD because of a stigmatizing article full of misinformation whenever someone with actual NPD opens their mouth. (Imagine if people did that with any other disorder! "Hey, I'm autistic." "Oh... my old roommate screamed at me whenever I made noise around him, and didn't understand my needs, which seems like sensory overload and difficulty with social cues. He was definitely autistic. But as long as you're self-aware and always restraining your innate desire to be an abusive asshole, you're okay I guess, maybe." ...See how offensive and ignorant that is?)
Stop preventing healthcare for people with a disorder just because it's trendy to use us as a scapegoat.
If you got this far, thank you for reading, and please share this if you can. Further reading is under the cut.
NPD Criteria, re-written by someone who actually has NPD
Stigma in the DSM
Common perception of the DSM criteria vs how someone may actually experience them (Keep in mind that this is the way I personally experience these symptoms, and that presentation can vary a lot between individuals)
"Idk, the stigma is right though, because I've known a lot of people with NPD who are jerks, so I'm going to continue to support the blockage of treatment for this condition."
(All of these were written by me, because I didn't want to link to other folks' posts without permission, but if you want to add your own links in reblogs or replies please feel free <3)
#actuallynpd#signal boost#actuallyautistic#mental health awareness#narcissistic personality disorder#people also need to realize that mental health professionals aren't immune from bias#(it really shouldn't come as a shock that the mental health field has a longstanding pattern of misunderstanding and mistreating ppl who ar#mentally ill or otherwise ND)#the first therapist i brought up NPD to like. literally pulled out the DSM bc she could barely remember the criteria. then said that there'#no way I have it because I have low self-esteem lmaoooooo#anyway throwback to being at work and chatting with a co-worker. and the conversation turning to mental health. and him saying that#he tries to stay informed and be aware and supportive of mental health conditions & that he doesn't want to be ignorant or spread harmful#misinformation. and then i mentioned that i do a lot of research into mental health stuff and i listed a bunch of things. which included#several personality disorders. one of which was NPD.#and after listening to my whole ass list he zeroed in on the NPD and immediately started talking about how narcissists are abusive and#he knew someone who had NPD and how the person who had it had an addiction and died from the addiction in a horrible way and he#was glad he did#fun times#or when i decided to be vulnerable and talk abt my self-criticism/self-hatred bc i knew my friends also struggled w that and i wanted to#support them by sharing my own coping methods. and they both(separately!) started picking and prodding at my npd through the lens of stigma#bc i'd recently opened up to them abt having it. they recognized self-hatred as a symptom and still jumped on me for it. despite me#trying to share hurt vulnerable parts of myself to help them and connect with them.#again..... fun times
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hedgehog-moss · 7 months
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Pampérigouste escaped today and I almost didn't make a post about it because it's just more of the same isn't it? do people who read this blog really want to hear about yet another Pampe escape? Then I thought, that's like asking if people who read detective novels really want to hear about yet another mysterious murder. Probably yes. Also Pampe would have been offended to have such a successful escape go unreported.
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I would like to say that my new fence is still fully Pampe-proof. She has not escaped a single time through breaking or outsmarting the fence, so now she does it by outsmarting me. Which doesn't happen all that often, because we are intellectual equals. But I let my guard down this morning—I'd just peeled some greenhouse carrots to make purée and I went into the pasture to distribute the peelings even though it was raining (see how I got punished for my selflessness?), and I left the gate open because I was right in front of it, obstructing it with my body.
Pampe dropped her carrot peelings and acted like she couldn't find them even though they were right under her feet, so I took pity on her and crouched down to gather them and offer them to her again (see how I'm getting punished for my compassion??) and she took advantage of this diversion. In the span of 0.2 seconds she slithered around me and she was out. It was a little bit beautiful. I don't know if you remember this photo of Pampe & Pyrgus, but it's a perfect illustration of what happened:
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I sighed and ignored her and finished distributing the peelings to the other animals, and then went to the barn to get muesli to lure my nuisance back to her pasture. After escaping she initially ran towards the woods, but since I ignored her the whole time, she emerged from the woods when I returned, like, wait, did you notice I escaped? Behind your back, just earlier? Did you notice how I won and you lost?
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It shouldn't have been difficult to get her back into the pasture with the help of her favourite snack; unfortunately Pampoldine is still a big baby who was distraught that her mum had left her behind yet again (she should be used to it, honestly, it's been like this since she was an infant), she started making these little panicky noises that Pampe has never paid any attention to—
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—so when I propped the gate open with a branch to get Pampe back inside, Poldine hurried out instead. I wasn't expecting this, I thought it was clear that I had the situation under control and her mum would be back in 5 seconds. You could have just waited 5 seconds, Poldine.
Pampelune had no interest in escaping, but she's the matriarch and where her herd goes, she goes, so once the other two were out she barrelled past me as well. I opened the gate to bring 1 llama in and instead 2 llamas went out. Pirlouit besides me was like
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For some reason the llamas galloped towards the road, instead of just hanging out in the woods where there's stuff to eat. Maybe because Pampe hadn't gone out in a long time and she wanted to be admired for her feat. Her wish was granted—2 cars stopped to say hi as I was miserably trotting after my llamas on the road in the rain. One of them was the post office lady who once herded my animals out of a pasture with her car, and she was like hop in, it'll be like old times!!!
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The two people who stopped their car were enchanted with the encounter and they both told me that they missed the days when Pampe Sightings on this road were a regular thing. No one sides with my fence in the Pampe v. Fence conflict. I love the post office lady though, she had a Niagara song playing in her car when I got in and a minute later I muttered "I'll sell her to the butcher" and she started singing "Pampe ♪ Je vais devoir te vendre au boucher ♫" to the tune of that song. It fit the tune really well, too.
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After we managed to get the llamas off the main road and back in the woods, she was like, godspeed, I wish I could continue chasing them with you but I have to go make lunch for my kids. I told her that now that the llamas were no longer on the road I'd just let them roam, they'll come home before night, no way I'm going to chase after them in the woods in this dog weather. So I went home and grumpily resumed peeling carrots and potatoes for my mash.
I sat in front of the window to do it so I could keep an eye on Pirlouit, who was wandering around the pasture like a cursed soul, drenched with rain, lonely and llamaforsaken. Sometimes he brayed to try and guide his friends back home, wherever they were, but he never brayed while I was filming. His braying is a poignant display of emotion and is not for public consumption.
I figured, if the llamas come back Pirou will spot them and perk up his immense ears, and I'll know to go out and open the gate. Instead at some point I looked up from my potatoes and saw my donkey finally at peace, grazing rather than pacing restlessly, and I went to look outside and his friends were back! And so was his appetite.
I had new peelings + some muesli to offer, but of course Pampe could tell this offering was a crude and blatant trap and refused to fall for it. Meanwhile her innocent daughter was like yay, snacks :) and followed me in the pasture, a llama entirely devoid of wiles.
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After I got Poldine back inside I went like WELL since NOBODY else wants that delicious MUESLI I guess these deserving chickens can have it—and Pampe was here in the blink of an eye to shoo the hens away from her muesli.
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She was grudgingly smiling about it, too. Like, point for you.
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I love this pic where my chicken looks like she's herding the animals back in their pasture all by herself.
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Everyone is home! Pampe and Pandolf are walking away in search of new adventures, Poldine follows her mum because of her abandonment issues, and Pirlouit is also following everyone very closely, like, I'm not getting left behind again.
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I finally managed to cook my mashed carrots & potatoes (+ herbs from the greenhouse) and it's so nice to make food with nothing but ingredients you grew yourself! (To be completely honest I only managed to grow 3 carrots in the past few months but that's because I neglected them in pursuit of more flashy summer vegetables)
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I also had an apple-plum compote for dessert made with my own fruit <3 Okay, the cheese course in between was store-bought. One of my friends really wants me to get goats and be self-sufficient in cheese and when I told her I would be constantly chasing my goats over hill and dale because they have a reputation to be insufferable escape artists she was like, what difference will it make to your life...
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pomefioredove · 7 days
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now I'm actually invested in this idea. maybe I'll write a full length fic someday idk... for now I have short hcs
summary: crowley decides to "give away" yuu to the highest "donation" for financial reasons type of post: headcanons characters: all nrc students additional info: can be read as platonic or romantic, except malleus is pretty romantic, second person pov, yuu is gender neutral, maybe a little ooc I wrote this as soon as I got up
crowley has had his fair share of "what the fuck" moments from you but this was really taking the cake
he acts so... casual about it?
swaggers into ramshackle one morning and says times are tough and your personal expenses are straining the budget so he's decided to "put you in someone else's care"
"The screening process will be vigorous to make sure you end up in good hands!" like you're a cat or something "Your expenses will be covered and you'll have somewhere to go during break!"
okay great. pretty obvious you have no say in this, so you don't even argue. what's the worst that could happen?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel find you the next day to say they're pooling their money to buy you
"To what?"
Epel shrugs. "Oh, well Crowley said we need to offer a donation to prove we're capable of supporting you..."
(you think that if not for the laws of this land you would have slaughtered that old fart)
Jack goes on a really long tirade about how shady and underhanded this is, making sure to reaffirm that he believes you should be free to make your own choices
"So you'll let me go once you get me?"
"Uhhh..."
Ace thinks once they buy you you'll have no choice but to do all of his homework for him
Deuce says that's not really how it works- and even if he tried, Riddle would kill him
(they've already gone over this twice before finding you)
Epel happily volunteers to take you home with him over breaks, probably the only positive in this mess
even if he thinks the whole thing is kind of funny
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
incapable of keeping his mouth shut, Ace accidentally spills the plan to Riddle, who is understandably aghast
you can't just give away a person under your care like a toy!
of all the irresponsible things...
of course, he'll have to put up his offer, too
purely for your sake! with a nicer room and a brand new copy of the dorm rules, maybe you'll stop getting yourself into trouble
he's got some family money (doctors, naturally) and considers this a worthwhile purchase, for his sanity and yours
of course, Trey and Cater overhear and may or may not be pooling their own cash for a chance, too
going behind Riddle's back on this is a risky venture, but hey, someone's gotta be on your side, here, right?
I mean, between a bunch of sixteen year old boys, the housewarden, and them, who would you choose?
actually don't answer that
...not that it's much of a secret, anyway. Cater's already got their gofundme equivalent link in bio
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Leona initially plans to have you become a live-in lackey like Ruggie
but then he really starts thinking- and, hey, the possibilities are endless, right?
for one, you'd make a really good pillow
he might have to kick Grim out for your full attention, but you could learn to live with that
and malleus would hate it
...that's reason enough for him
plus, he's got money to burn, so why not?
either way, he sets his bid at a reasonable (maybe too confident) price and sits back to watch the chaos unfold as everyone scrambles for a piece of the pie
news travels fast around school, after all
then Ruggie finds out that you could dethrone him as Leona's #2 and is understandably a little annoyed
that's his cushy post-grad job gig, thank you! he's worked hard for that!
besides, why should Leona get to hoard you? the guy can barely take care of himself!
so, Ruggie ends up outsourcing to a few dozen classmates for the necessary funds at a steep I-owe-you price
he's gonna be eating nothing but dandelions for a while...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
now, Azul is annoyed
once the news goes school-wide, it's all anyone can talk about
talk about good marketing...
why didn't he think of such a brilliant scam? he could have negotiated with Crowley to have a café brand deal tie-in!
of course, he's already set his bid, with Jade and Floyd offering to pitch in as necessary
it's a risky investment, sure, but a worthwhile one
Azul tells everyone that with the prefect's "obvious" popularity, having them at the café a few nights a week would drive sales through the roof
though that's really just what he says to shirk suspicion
a likely excuse coming from him, though, really, it would just be nice having you around
and if not for his own affections, Floyd's incessant begging and Jade's subtly manipulative comments about "how nice" it would be having a new face around would be enough for him to cave eventually
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
"Kalim, no," is the first thing that Jamil says
"I strongly advise against this. It's another one of Crowley's silly scams and you could end up a target bec- are you even listening?"
hint: he is not
the second Kalim found out that he could get to take in his favorite magicless student like one of his treasures, he was all over it
(AKA infinite sleepovers)
and for what? a little optional donation to prove he's got the funds? he's got cash to spare!
he's already got your new room in Scarabia set up before he even puts his bid in
right next to his of course :)
and despite what Jamil insists, he himself might be working behind the curtain just a little to ensure he's the one who ends up with you
after all, why should Kalim get everything? this might be a valuable learning opportunity for him
You don't always get what you want
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
as much as Epel tries to keep the rest of his dorm from finding out, it's inevitable
he's actually a little surprised that the news didn't get to Vil sooner
with Rook around campus, surely he must have said something...
when Vil does find out, though, he just sighs
oh, of course. what next, will everyone meet each other in the arena and fight to the death over the prefect?
of all the silly, immature things...
oh? what's that? he's bidding anyway? of course he is, silly potato. he can't have some unwashed miscreant making you sleep on polyester bedding
(really, he's the only person on campus worthy of your time)
Rook has also been mysteriously absent from the dorm lately, though his initials on a poem and a strangely large sum of money end up in the donation pile
but really, that could be anyone... Rook would never dare betray Vil again, right?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ortho finds out directly from the other first years and sends Idia the details immediately
with a little note of encouragement, of course: "could be excellent for improving your social skills!"
Idia understandably freaks out
"WTF!!!! nooo way! this is a person, not a chatbot we're talking about here! I can barely keep virtual pets alive!!!!"
(liar)
(...but this is still different)
the conversation ends there, but semi-anonymous bid from someone named "gloomurai" gets cashapp'd directly to crowley
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
everyone in the room immediately turns to Malleus
"For the record, I think it's wrong to be bargaining over a human being," Silver says first. "But if anyone could handle it with grace, it's you."
Lilia laughs. "Oh, you're just saying that because you like the prefect so much!"
"Father, you're the one who likes the prefect so much,"
"Oh, right! carry on then. After all, I'm sure we could share,"
Sebek is the only one relatively against the idea, though Lilia luckily manages to get him to lower his voice after his third speech about how you aren't good enough for his liege
Malleus is rather quiet through the whole evening, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with any of the points made
he disappears for a short while, and when he comes back he seems a little more confident
though, of course, he goes to you first
seeing him at Ramshackle in the middle of the night is a familiar and welcoming sight after all of the chaos of your week
and he's in a great mood!
"Child of man! I've come with news," he says. "I have heard of your predicament and have come up with a solution!"
you immediately sulk. "Oh, no. You know I think this whole thing is terrible, right?"
"Yes, Silver mentioned you might not like the idea of being bought and sold like a trinket. But worry not, I do not plan on paying for you in money,"
you pause, at a loss for words, and then tentatively continue. "You're not...?"
"Of course not. What a primitive idea, I was baffled to hear it myself. My proposal will be more traditional: a modest sum of treasure, and a generous amount of livestock and the finest crop Briar Valley can offer,"
certainly he's not this naive, you think
"You really think Crowley is going to accept that over money? I'm pretty sure Kalim just bid away an entire country's worth,"
he laughs. "You speak as if this is some kind of business deal! I'm quite confident that my dowry will be best,"
huh. that was a strange way of putting it
but then again, you still didn't really understand how things work here, so you go along with it
and you allow yourself to relax. he seems confident in his offer, and he doesn't even see you as some kind of prize to win!
"Oh, well, alright. Thanks! I'm glad you're on it,"
he smiles. "Rest assured, child of man, you're in good hands. My dowry will far outshine the others, and the wedding will be even better,"
"I was honestly getting a little nervous for a momen- wait- wedding!?"
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shiny-jr · 9 days
Note
I’ve just had a vision, what if a yan (e.g riddle or vil because they are most princess-ish) was a trapped in a castle away like in one of those stereotypical fairy tales and the reader decides to save them because they are a ‘damsel in distress’ and reader is like a hero… only to realise there is a reason why they were locked away (because they were batshit crazy)
Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.
Characters: Vil Schoenheit.
Summary: You are a thief with freshly stolen goods. Chased and hunted down, you avoid capture by finding a castle hidden in gloom and fog. Locals told legends of this place, saying a royal had been trapped within. Of course, you don't quite believe such tall tales. That is, until you discover the royal and learned that they were purposefully sealed inside...
Note: I think I'll call this one, not your valiant savior. It's just a placeholder name for now. Just a quick post, so sorry if it's bad.
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It was too easy. What did they expect when they left out a priceless object owned by the royal family and estimated to be worth a fortune? Of course a famed thief on the loose such as yourself, would just be itching to snatch the relic. And snatch you did, living up to your reputation of thief. Each member having unique abilities to assist in stealing. Your mother had speed to outrun anyone in a chase, your grandfather had the talent of picking any locks, your great-grandmother could sweet-talk anyone then rob them blind. And so on and so forth.
And of course, you had your own talent. As quiet as a mouse and with fingers that stuck to valuables like glue, stealing became like second nature. Literally. However, it wasn't exactly a talent valued by the wider community, and if you stole enough you could end up on terribly drawn wanted posters. Which is why staying in one place wasn't wise.
From place to place, you went taking and claiming anything of worth. When you got very low on cash, you set your sights high: on the vault that stored the royal's priceless treasures. There was bound to be endless riches stored within, if only you could get your grubby hands on them. Well, after careful planning, you had. It wasn't a giant gem or sack full of gold.
Time was short, so you had grabbed the closest thing you could before guards could find you. A golden box encrusted with jewels. Who knew what was inside? Maybe some family heirloom, a magical artifact, or something else of high value. And with the box, you bolted, and the chase had begun out of the city and through the woods.
As fast as you could, you ran through the mystic woods, a forrest travelers and locals alike were all wary of. It was the safest place you could go when chased by frightening palace guards on horseback that would do anything to take back what you stole and drag you back to the gallows. Even the woods heavy with fog and dark from the clouds overhead, had deterred your pursuers enough for you to slip out of their reach and deeper into the forrest where there was no way they would be able to track you. Here, you would have to wait until tomorrow and depart early. Then, you'd be home free and rich beyond your wildest dreams.
After what felt like hours of walking, you stumbled upon a bridge over a gloomy lake. In the middle, sat an old castle of gray stone and dark windows. A castle once said to hold a royal captive, but of course, you didn't believe such stories that were so old they were told to your own grandparents. This castle would be your sanctuary for the night. And maybe, just maybe, you'd clutch the jeweled box and dream of simpler times when you were told fairytales of locked away royals waiting for a savior.
The castle was exactly like those set in spooky tales, haunted by vengeful spirits and claimed by ghosts. It appeared abandoned, that much was obvious by the crumbling stone bridge and the battered old wooden doors that once protected the inhabitants.
Cautiously stepping over the splintered debris of the front door, you didn’t bother boarding it up since no one would be stupid enough to follow you inside.
There was wreckage and ruin everywhere. If you had to guess, whatever happened here, whether the people were driven away by conflict or time, it was followed by the destruction of time. Time with weather were likely all factors that led to the disarray of what was probably once a grand estate. Strangely enough, there was furniture and decor. Everything coated in dust and grime, but still here. Had people been too afraid to enter the grounds? There were so many valuables that could've been looted!
"I'll definitely have to come back here later." You scoff, turning over a few clothes or broken furniture with your foot to uncover possible hidden goodies. Maybe something as small but valuable as a ring was lost somewhere on the ground.
Proceeding to carry the golden box under your arm, you decide to search for the cleaniest, not-so-moldy room where you could spend the night. On the third floor halls, you see ripped curtains and frames where portraits loosely hung. Every rug was brown with dirt and dust.
There were items left behind, which showcased the life one led here. A piano too big to steal, the skeleton of a chandelier and broken gems hanging from its limbs, empty glass perfume bottles now filled with dust. The place must've been wondrous once, but now it was like a tomb. A setting frozen in time.
When you found moonlight filtering through the open balcony of what looked to be the master bedroom, you paused to see the space wrecked more than the others. As if more than just weather and time had affected this place. The owner of this castle likely slept in this very room, on that very bed where the sheets were ruffled and unkempt.
"I wonder who used to live here..." You murmur to no one in particular, as you approach the balcony looking over the bridge and woods. This would be a good vantage point.
A heavy fog settled over the woods, extending over the bridge like water. Good, an extra layer for cover. You stepped back into the room, analyzing every carved piece of wooden furniture, makeup and brushes stored on tabletops, a separate room as long as a hallway and filled with all types of articles of clothing.
If all this was still here, then was it possible some jewelry was left behind? You scoured the room, looking for hidden compartments while murmuring to yourself to fill the ominous silence. As you pulled back a curtain against a wall, you furrowed your eyebrows when you saw an uneven lump underneath the wallpaper.
Could this be handle leading to a vault of treasures? With that in mind, you ripped off the old wallpaper. A glimmer of gold made your heart soar with hope, but when you caught sight of your reflection, you stopped and stared. A mirror. It was a large mirror, oval shaped, with golden borders so intricately decorated. However, when a hand suddenly appeared on the other side of the mirror, like a ghostly apparition, you screamed and stumbled back.
A hand– there was a hand in the mirror! You stared with widened eyes full of shock, as the hand pressed its palm against the surface of the glass. You couldn't see anything else, no one behind the hand. After a second, the slim pale hand delicately pointed a long dainty finger at the box you were holding in a vice grip.
"What...? This? You want this? But..."
You had worked hard to procure this golden box from the royals. Pursing your lips, you contemplated your options, with so many questions running rampant in your mind. What was that thing? A magic mirror? A magic mirror would be priceless, much more valuable than any gold. However, if it was magic, it would be tricky. Possibly even sentient. So you'd have to gain its favor.
"Alright, alright, the box. You know, I went through hell trying to get this."
You informed the mirror, unsure if it even understood you. You carefully set down the heavy box in front of the mirror, and watch as the hand made a motion with its fingers.
Click!
It had unlocked the box, without even a key or tool. A grin broke out on your face. Had it done it for you? Apparently not, because the box opened on its own and a heavy thick tome floated out from it and into the air. The hand beckoned the tome closer, and closer it came, until it was literally phasing through the glass.
"Hey! Wait––"
The glass shattered, the sound booming and ringing out in the silence like an explosion. You only had a second to react, instinctually using your arms to shield your face from the glass flying out in every direction. When it stopped, you looked around. The mattress was shredded, the curtains torn to shreds, wooden furniture cut as if done by an axe, but miraculously you were somehow unharmed.
A breath, not of your own, caught your attention. Your eyes darted over to the now broken mirror, awestruck at the vision of a figure stepping over broken glass. They were beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, more than any words could convey. Their hair like gold and eyes an alluring shade of purple like two amethyst stones, soft pink lips, and a tall slim pale figure clothed in odd robes. For a moment, whoever this person was, appeared disoriented for a brief moment, but they clutched the tome like a lifeline. The tome that came from the box you had stolen.
"Thank you––"
He breathed, his voice quiet as he attempted to stand tall and upright. When his legs nearly gave out beneath him, you were there to catch his hand and prevent him from falling as he looked at you with appreciation. You were just stunned, bewildered, in pure disbelief.
"You... You freed me. You returned my stolen tome...!"
He exclaimed in disbelief, as he restored his posture. Somehow, he was able to stand in heels, but heels were currently one of the least important details.
What did he mean freed?
There was no time to ask any questions. The loud sound of the shattering must've alerted any of your pursuers that had followed you thus far, because from the balcony you could make out the torchlights weaving their way directly towards the bridge.
The mysterious man from the mirror took notice of your expression of dismay as he glanced at the distant torchlights. Smoothing out his robes, he looked back at you and took in your expression. "Enemies of yours?"
"Yes..." You nod slowly.
"Now that just won't do. I can't have anyone harming, or even killing my savior. I've yet to even learn your name." Tapping some well-manicured fingers against the spine of the tome, he appeared to contemplate something. When he stopped tapping his fingers, he smiled so sweetly. "I am Vil Schoenheit, prince and prodigy. Here's my proposition to you, my savior: I will destroy your enemies for a small price. You must tell me your name, and I will grant you my protection."
Of course you gave him your name, and almost immediately you saw the fog below turn an odd color. The torchlights flickered out, you no longer heard their encouraged shouts to move forward but instead their screams echoing in the dark woods. All after Vil murmured a few words in a foreign tongue read from his tome, as he continued to gaze at your intently. What exactly was he to cause so much death in a single instant with hardly any effort...? And you were stuck in this abandoned castle with him.
The prince had no plans to abandon you, he's made that much clear when you attempted to casually part ways after thanking him for getting rid of your pursuers. Stay. I can make it worth your while. Once I reach my former glory, you'll be able to bask in it with me. Is what he said as you swore you heard the front of the castle be sealed shut.
The entire time he looked around the castle with disdain, cross as he complained about the state of his home. While helping him clean up some rooms, he told you more about himself. Vil was a prince who once lived in this castle, set to inherent the throne shortly after the death of his father. However, he was widely feared due to being a prodigy in dark magics and genius at brewing concoctions. For attempting to steal the life of a younger kinder foreign prince who specialized in good magic, he was trapped in a mirror with his tome being the only key to grant him freedom.
Vil actually appeared to be much too fond of you, which you attributed to his isolation. If you were imprisoned all alone in a mirror for centuries, you likely would've gone insane. It was a miracle Vil's mind was intact, but maybe he wasn't there entirely. Because what sane person killed people with the snap of their fingers while smiling so kindly at the one who set him free?
Pridefully he listed off his feats and accomplishments. Living prodigy. Most beautiful man in the land. Prince of the land. It felt too much like flaunting, as he wanted you to realize how truly great he was. He replaced your clothes with his own, and while combing your hair he reminded you that what's rightfully his will be returned to him one day, and you would be there beside him that day.
The crown was what he wanted, a crown he believed was stolen from him and passed down to the descendants of the very good prince he attempted to kill. He spoke of a future in the castle restored to its former glory, where citizens would be loyal to him once again, and those that wronged him will receive a fate worse than death. Positions were open for applying once he became king, he told you one day. He was still searching for a vassal, a knight, a jester, or a partner to wear a crown as well.
Was it the isolation that had driven him to become so attached to the one who set him free? It was possible, but you couldn't even be sure. For all you knew, he could've been like this before he became trapped in the mirror. What mattered now was that he did not make any effort to hide his attraction towards you. Vil was offering a thief all the riches he would attain after his plan for vengeance, and his heart in a golden box.
"Keep the knives I gifted you, although I doubt you'll have to resort to lifting a finger. Just allow me to handle it when the time comes. I want to extract vengeance slowly and painfully, make them hurt just as they did to me... And at the end of the day, you will be there, you little thief who stole my affections, to comfort me and drive away those memories of cold lonely centuries in darkness. You'll be there for me, won't you, my valiant savior?"
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natailiatulls07 · 3 months
Text
It's giving old money
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Oscar Piastri x British!Countess!reader
Summary - Oscar and his self conscious girlfriend, who is also a British countess, slowly soft launch their very private relationship however another certain Brit speeds up that process
Warning - swearing, Y/n is self conscious??
Faceclaim - Lila Moss
-
yourusername
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Nights in Monte Carlo x
Liked by friendsusername and 124,674 others
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friendsusername Hun we need to do this more often!
= yourusername Oh of course babe
username So jealous of her lifestyleee
username Imagine being her I wishhh
ilovey/nwithmyhearttt
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Y/n is at Wimbledon with her friend! I love the blue dress and the natural look <3
Liked by username and 58,739 others
username She's too gorgeousss omfggg
username Can we take a moment for the dress!
username Where is that dress frommm?? It's a fucking need!
= username I think it's Ralph Lauren
= username Thank yewww
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oscarpiastri
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A couple of days in London between gps
Liked by aussiegrit and 173,593 others
username Is this post sponsored by Ralph Lauren???
username Wait I recognize that dog, whats going on?!
username Oscar Pastry who is that?
landonorris Be safe bro emoji
= oscarpiastri Thanks mate lol
username It's giving old money
= username it's giving richhh
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yourusername posted a story
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username Y/n's new story of Archie, my heartttt
username Ikrr I want to kidnap it LMAO
username Wait Archie looks a lot like the dog in Oscar Piastri's recent instagram post, am I tripping??
username Gurl calm down, I doubt it. They are worlds away from eachother lol
username Yeah I agree, Y/n is too stuck up to make friends with anyone outside her countess/count social circle
yourusername
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Let's go racing x
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username This is new...
username My multiverse of madness!
mclaren Your welcome anytime <3
= yourusername I had the best time, thank you
username Okayyy so anyone wanna say something to me?? :|
username Look okay I'm sorry, maybe you did have an inkling
username Now that I look at it, the dog does very similarrr
username IKRR I think her and Oscar would be cute together lol
username They'd be the perfect old money couple nglll
oscarpiastri posted a story
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yourusername
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Thank you Melbourne, you're the best x
Liked by oscarpiastri and 178,484 others
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username Melbourne? thats random...
username Is this a soft launch????
username Oscar Piastri in the likes, Y/n in Melbourne...where Oscar also is, is Y/n and Oscar soft launching? :3
username Ummm Y/n??
oscarpiastri
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Days down in the water with my loved ones are my favourite
Liked by yourusername and 183,864 others
username Blonde hair + Melbourne + beach + Recent events + Y/n's like = Soft Lauch with Y/n L/n
= username Case closed! It has to be herrr
username I love summer break Oscar sm
logansargeant Always remember protectionnn
= oscarpiastri :|
username I need any more pleaseeee
username I mean they are making it very obviousss
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landonorris posted a story
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Text (White: Oscar Orange: Lando)
Dude what the fuck
What?!
What you've done?! You've just fucking outed mine and Y/n's relationship!!
Ohhh shit sorry man I didn't think you could see her face in the story I'll delete it now
No don't worry, we're trending on twitter anyways
Yeah sorry Osc, how's Y/n doing?
She's very anxious rn, you know how she is with the publics opinion of her
Oh no maybe distance her from social media
Yeah, I've taken her phone off of her
Ofc sorry again man
Nah dw it was bond to happen
oscarpiastri
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Yeah so me and this gorgeous women are dating. We want to keep it private and we hope you will respect our wishes <3
Tagged: yourusername
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months
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I have this idea for a post but I feel like you would do it justice.
Basically, Danny is yeeted through a dimensional portal and reincarnated as the clone son of Tim and Connor(from when Tim cloned Connor during his death). This little shit wakes up after that, when Connor has already been found, as a six year old gremlin with a need for chaos.
Que pranks!
I don’t have much more than that so I will leave this in your capable hands.
-🎃
"Master Bruce, if I have to remind you to fix your tie one more time, Gotham will be without its protecter for many months to come!" Alfred snapped - actually snapped - from where he was attempting to reorganize the entirey of the Emberald Sitting room.
Right now, he moved all the furniture and all the wall directions. He was just adding some tastefully done flower pots to make the place look inviting but also regal.
It had been six hours, and from the looks of it, Alfred had not found the balance he desperately wanted. He started over four times. His patience was all but gone.
Bruce's hands snap to his tie, scrambling to get it set just right. He moves it only slightly to the left - not making much difference - with a nervous smile. Alfred's teeth snap shut with a click, and his eyes blaze with frustrated rage as he rounds the coffee table toward the billionaire.
Bruce looks to be holding back a scream.
Dick winces, sinking into his chair lest the aged Butler turns his ire onto him. He knows why this evening has to be just right. Especially to Alfred, but gosh, he could not handle how terrifying the butler could be.
It's just for one dinner and one evening. Dick tells himself. Once Alfred can finally say he married one of us off, things will return to normal.
"Honestly! If you didn't walk around looking like an unkeept vagabond all the time, maybe there would be a Lady of the House by now!" Alfred sneered at a pale-looking Bruce.
Or maybe Timmy bringing Kon over to announce their engagement means Alfred will try to marry the rest of us off harder. Dick despairs as Bruce endures another tongue-lashing. He wants to go help, but if he moves even an inch from his seat, Alfred might realize Dick is still in the room.
He can't afford to anger the beast any further.
"And you, Master Dick!" Alfred suddenly rounds on Dick, pointing one long finger into his face, with narrowed eyes and the grim reaper at his shoulder. Oh, dear.
Thankfully, that's when the doorbell rings. At once, Alfred's face clears into an excited smile. "They're here! I'll let them in right away; you lads, gather the rest of the family. And remember, we must make a great impression! Tonight is the night we invite Mister Kon into the family!"
The butler doesn't quite skip out of the room, but the bristle walking with a chipper head turning is the close that Dick has ever seen him do.
"I'm so happy for Tim." Bruce mutters,"but I can not handle any more reminders that I haven't had a spouse."
"Tell me about it," Dick sighs, following after his father into the hallway and down to the dining hall. He can distantly hear Alfred opening the door and greeting the two. "A hour ago, he made seven passive agressive reminders that Tamaraneans propse with a dinner and a mock battle. Seven. I mean, how does he even know what Tamaraneans do when courting?"
"It's Alfred." Bruce tells him, taking a seat at the head of the table. Dick sits in the chair to his right as the oldest and First Heir- considering the reply. It makes sense.
Damian, Cass, and Duke walk in, not even a moment later. All are dressed better than any gala Bruce could have dragged them off, too. He is rather impressed that Damian is a red suit that makes even Bruce pale in comparison. Then again, he is the only one besides Alfred who has an eye for such things.
"Has he already proposed, or is he doing it at dinner table and were all supposed to act supirse?" Duke asks while sitting down. "I want to know what kind of face I should have prepared"
"The clone has asked Father for his blessing in his courtship with Timothy. He knew we would have figured out his plans when that blunder. It is no surprise." Damian huffs. Dick knows he's just upset that his big brother is going to get married and move out soon. He's adorable when he's territorial.
"I can confirm that Kon hasn't asked yet." Steph announces, strutting into the room in all her purple gown glory. Behind her, the Row sbilings wander in with matching celtic blue suits, making Dick grin. It's always nice to see people appreciate the best color. "Tim isn't the type of person to not show off his ring whenever he has a chance."
"I've always wanted to see a real-life popersoal!" Jarro gasps, flying into the room with his own little suit on. It's a nice black with green undertones just like Bruce's.
He lands in the miniature chair with a dinner dining set Alfred had special ordered for him.
It sits on top of where a regular dining set usually is, always the second chair on Bruce's left, because he is literally the favorite. Bruce denies it, but they all see the tender smile he throws the floating star.
The Wayne kids know. Jarro is too precious and hilarious, so none of them mind that he's the favorite. In fact, Dick has half the mind that he's the favorite of the majority of the family.
Jason leans over to pat Jarro's head, grinning when the little starfish swears. He adores when the kid randomly curses out of Aldred's hearing range.
"Shh, they're coming!" Cullen says from where he was lingering by the door, hoping to see Tim and Kon. He always looked up to the older boys as someone who had been forced into the closet for his own protection.
Seeing people like him helped ease the fear, and Dick feels his smile wideing when Cullen scrambles back to his seat. He's so excited he's practically in the Speed Force.
Alfred opens the door first, stepping to the side to allow the guest to enter first. Dick feels himself sit up straighter, the moment really setting in, Kon is going to propose to his younger brother.
His little Timmy is growing up-
"Wow, this place is big!" A child says, running into the room. Who the heck is he? "It's amazing, Dad!"
"Slow down. You don't want to fall." Tim laughs, rubbing the stranger's hair with a soft smile.
"It's okay, Dad. I'm strong!" The boy flexes his tiny arms. Tim laughs again as Kon crouches down to the little boy's height.
"Woah! Look at all those musceles. You're going to help me protect your dad, son?"
"Yeah Pa, I'll be the strongest super or robin ever!"
"Tim? Who might this lovely chum be?" Bruce cuts in, voice slightly strained. No one calls him out on it since they are staring wide eye at the tiny little boy who looks like an exact copy of Tim at age five.
Dick knows because he was one of the few in the Wayne's who saw Tim at that age. He's practically a clone to oh no.
Dick thinks he's having a heart attack.
Tim looks up at them before a brillient glowing smile breaks across his face. "Everyone, Kon and I have an announcement to make!"
Kon wraps an arm around his waist, sending adoring looks to man in his arms before they both hold up their left hand.
There are twin silver bands on both of their fingers. "We got married in Las Vegas, and we have a son! I like you all to meet Danny Drake-Kent! I made him when I thought Kon was dead."
"I am Danny, clone of Kon-el and Tim Drake. Fear me if you dare!" His voice squeaks. Squeaks.
Scratch that, Dick knows he's having a heart attack.
You can hear a pin drop in the silence his announcement cause, as Danny puffs up his chest and floats a few inches off the grown.
Oh, great heavens, Dick is an uncle.
"A fellow clone, son!" Jarro cheers from his little table. He slams two of his star points on the table to a beat that he speaks to. "One of us. One of us."
Danny's blue eyes land on the star fish and widen. He raises both arms into the air chanting back. "One of us. One of us. One of us!"
"It's awesome is what it is!" Steph cries, jumping up from her seat. "Hi, Danny! I'm you, Auntie Steph! I'm the cool one."
"Isn't this lovely? Master Tim not only has a husband but a child as well. Unlike some Masters." Aldred doesn't quite glare at Bruce, but he doesn't have to. The Waynes know who he means as Bruce wince.
Danny pauses in his chanting to look her up and down, staring pointily at her plum colored dress before humming. "That's a bold statement for an eggplant."
Steph gapes at him as Tim roars with laughter.
Oh, Dick is going to love this kid. He leaves his seat, trying to get to his nephew as the rest of the family attempts to do the same. Damain makes alarming threats to Kon, letting him know he would easily take him out if he detects a hint of mistreatment to his brother and new nephew.
The Waynes act like they can't hear the threat because they all have their own versions of the shovel talk prepared. They just have to get the clone alone.
It's a nice dinner.
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velvetures · 9 months
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Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.
So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.
So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!
Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))
I Knew, Sweetheart
A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.
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John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.
Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.
Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.
You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.
A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.
John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.
At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.
Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.
God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.
Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.
Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.
“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.
“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”
He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”
Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.
He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”
You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.
John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.
“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.
You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.
“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.
“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.
“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.
Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.
“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.
“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.
“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.
“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.
He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.
“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”
“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”
“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”
His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.
John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.
In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.
“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.
Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.
Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.
“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.
“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.
“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.
“Give me hand, Captain?”
He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.
The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.
“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.
“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.
His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.
John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable
With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.
Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.
“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”
His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.
John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”
“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.
Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.
Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.
“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.
It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.
“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.
Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.
God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.
Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.
“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”
Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.
“Please, I want this. I want you John.”
Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.
“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.
“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.
Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.
“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.
Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.
Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.
Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.
“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.
You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.
“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.
You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.
He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.
Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.
Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.
“I love you, John. More than anything.”
He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
“You’re my best friend.”
He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.
“You’re mine too.”
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yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.
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norrisleclercf1 · 9 months
Text
Together again
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slight Angst, Fluff,
Words: 3.0K
Requested: Yes/No
Request: hi, so I was scrolling through tiktok and I came across this video that McLaren posted and it's the sweetest thing ever. I saw it and it reminded me of you. here's the link: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM2qVvpdT/
I thought that maybe you can use it for the "Our Boy" series, like Elijah running to hug Lando
Synopsis: You'd given birth to your beautiful baby girl Cécile, and now the boys schedules for races as picked up. Elijah really misses them, so when you plan a surprise with the help of the grid, you knew it was worth it
Timeline: Elijah is about 4, Cécile is 3 months old
Our Boy Masterlist / Our Boy / The Hunt for Fruit / Hey Dad
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"Just…..keep sending us pictures," Lando begs, holding his phone as he waits to board another flight with Charles. "Of course I will, baby; Elijah and Cécile miss Daddy and Papa a lot." You smile sadly.
"Yeah, what about Mommy?" Lando asks, pulling that sad smile into a happy one as you shake your head at his childish behavior. "Yes, I miss you too." Charles comes up, sees you on the screen snatches the phone.
"Hey!" Lando moves to grab his phone, but Charles smacks his hand as he smiles at you, his hat hiding most of his face. "Are you doing okay? Getting sleep? Eating?" Charles was worried about leaving you with a now 3-month-old and a 4-year-old.
Charles and Lando were very hands-on with the kids, and now being gone for almost a month because of their wild schedule, they just wanted to come home and hug their children.
"Yes, Charles, your mother, and Lorenzo are coming over every other day. They are helping around a lot. Also, tell Lando that his grandparents just finished their visit, and they want the kids there one summer when they're older." Lando's head pops in, smiling brightly.
A woman's voice announces their flight is boarding, letting them know they must head to Hungary. "Go before you miss your flight." Smiling at the camera, the boys give their love and hang up.
Sighing, you put the phone down, looking at Carlos, who is currently playing with Elijah. "They have no idea you're here." You announce. The Spaniard chuckles, having told his teammate and best friend that he would fly out later than them.
A family emergency is the excuse they gave as to why he wouldn't be flying with them. "Good, they haven't been themselves. Being away from the kids, it's hard on them." Making a face at Elijah, who giggles, throwing himself into Carlos.
Through the baby monitor, you hear a slight whimper; Cécile, she's awake. "I'll be right back." Bending down, you kiss the top of Elijah's head, who giggles.
Smiling, you turn, heading down to the nursery. Opening the door, you coo, seeing your little girl awake and wiggling around. "Good morning, my little starfish. Did you sleep well?" Cécile squeals, showing off a gummy smile as she shakes her hands.
Laughing, you pick her up; she woke due to being hungry. Grabbing a soft mini blanket, you cover yourself up. She latches with ease, walking back to the main living room you see Elijah watching an interview.
"It's Papa!" Elijah squeals, seeing Charles come into the frame. Carlos ruffles the boy's hair, packing bottles, diapers, and everything you'll need to travel. "Thank you for doing this." Adjusting Cécile, who kicks her little foot out, at the movement.
"You're welcome; it'll get them to stop whining and showing us every photo you take. Better to have the real thing than a phone shoved in our faces. "They've never been away from us this long. Now that Cécile is here, they don't like being gone this time." Elijah laughs, watching the interview and smiling brightly.
"I miss you, Papa." Carlos and you stop what you're doing hearing the statement. "Yeah, don't tell Charles that." You sigh. Charles would never leave again if he heard Elijah talking to the TV, saying he was missing him.
"Elijah, we're going to see Papa and Daddy." Pulling your daughter off, you get yourself adjusted and start to burp her. "Really?" Elijah gasps, whipping around, his face bright and filled with love.
"Yes, that's why I'm here. Me, Uncle Max, Uncle Oscar, Uncle Pear, and Uncle Danny have been helping your Mama surprise Daddy and Papa." You swear Elijah starts to vibrate. He's so happy. "He's going to combust." You giggle, seeing how your son's reaction.
"Now, Elijah." Carlos bends down to his height, stopping the boy's bouncing. "I've packed your bag; it's in your bedroom. Go grab it for us, and then we can leave." Elijah nods, bolting off, still hearing his happy squeals.
"This will be a long flight, won't it?" You don't answer Carlos's question; he would find out for himself.
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Carlos was smart enough to tire out Elijah on the flight, so the boy was asleep in his arms. You were going through backways so no fans would know you and your children were here.
It was hard not to answer Lando's and Charles's texts, calls, facetime, and everything. You even turned off your location, something you never do. It's the only way you'd be able to surprise your partners.
Being away is hard, waking to Lando's kisses and the smell of Charles cooking breakfast, Cécile, and Elijah already up and ready for the day. A month was too long for them not to be home, and it worried you that Elijah would think they were leaving too.
Carlos was quick to get you up and into your hotel room. Laying Elijah down, Carlos makes sure he's comfortable before helping you with Cécile, setting up her travel bassinet.
Clicking in the last piece, a knock comes on the door; you stare at each other, confused about who it could be. "Did you order room service?" Voice a whisper, Carlos shakes his head no.
Quiet steps, he looks into the peephole and sighs. "It's Pierre." Carlos's face contorted to annoyance, the two still fighting over something no one knew the real reason for. "Let him in." You laugh, the Ferrari driver huffs and opens the door.
"Where's my goddaughter?" Pierre giggles, dancing on his toes. Cécile gurgles, hearing a familiar voice; hearing her, Pierre goes straight to her, scooping her little body into his arms. "Hello, gorgeous." Pierre coos, making sure her head is supported.
Elijah whines, squirming around before still mouth wide open and cheeks puffy. "Cécile, you look just like your Papa." Pierre praises, hearing this Carlos rolls his eyes, scuffing. "She is Lando, look at her eyes," Carlos argues.
This was the source of the argument. Carlos swears up and down that Cécile is Lando's because of her eyes, but Pierre says she's Charles because of her hair and nose.
"Boys, she's both of theirs. Stop." You chastised their fighting would wake Elijah, and you didn't want to deal with a cranky toddler who would wish for his fathers. "If you think she's Lando's, you're delusional," Pierre whispers; Carlos opens his mouth to reply.
You turn, giving the most mother stare-down in history. They freeze, staring back at you. "You know what? She looks more like you, Y/n." Carlos praises, smiling brightly. "Is this why you two are fighting? You're both her godfather. Does it matter who her father is?" You hiss as Elijah flips onto his stomach, spread out on the bed.
"No." They both grumble, dropping their heads in shame. "Stop, or I'll ask Daniel and Max to be the godfathers." You threaten. "How was the flight? Was Elijah okay with it?" Pierre asks, passing your sleeping daughter off to Carlos, who starts to sway from side to side.
"He was fine; Carlos tired him out, so he'll be fine in this time zone." You explain, pushing hair out of your son's face. Pierre smiles, comes to your side, and bends to look at Elijah. "Charles and Lando have missed them, but they're getting worried." My throat tightens, feeling guilty at ghosting them.
Back home, they'd call to read Elijah a story for his bedtime. You jump, hearing the loud vibrations of your phone. Picking it up, a picture of Charles fills the phone.
"It's Charles. He always reads a bedtime story to Elijah. Not answering this feels wrong." Pierre moves, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and squeezing you into his side. "I know it's hard, Y/n.
But, he'll get to hold you and the kids again tomorrow." Pierre comforts you; he knows this is hard. He was missing Kika, as she wasn't able to join either.
"Yeah, they'll be pissed, but the reward will be worth it." Carlos lays Cécile down, giving her the little sloth stuffy he gave you when she was born. "But…..I've been ignoring them all day. The last time I went this long without talking to them was because we were on a break. It shattered Charles and Lando." Watching the call fade out leaves you with that daunting missed call notification.
"Hey, hey. Don't think like that." Pierre moves, hugging you. He's always been jealous of your family, how you three can't be without each other. He was shocked when he first heard that Charles and Lando were dating you.
He never knew that Charles even had a small family. Everyone in the world just believed that Elijah was Charles, biologically. So, when Pierre discovered that Elijah wasn't his and from a previous relationship, he became protective of Charles.
When he came over one night and saw how your family worked, he backed off, watching his childhood friend become a father. After a while, Lando joined, and this had everyone on edge.
Were you and Charles broken up? Did you love them both? What was going on? When Pierre noticed a change in the small family, he saw a missing piece fit perfectly.
"Uncle Pear?" Pierre pulls away, seeing Charles's eyes blink up at him. "Hey, buddy." He smiles, seeing Elijah sitting up, awake. "Uncle Pear!" Elijah squeals, flinging himself off the bed, happy to see him.
"Elijah, shh, you'll wake your sister." Your son giggles, hugging Pierre tight. "Sorry, Mommy." "It's okay, baby." Kissing your son's forehead. "Where's Papa and Daddy?" Elijah looks around the small room, his smile slipping off, not seeing them. "You're going to see them later; we're going to surprise them," Pierre explains, but Elijah whines.
"No." Pierre sits Elijah down, who starts to pout; a tantrum is brewing inside your small son. "You said we'll see them today! I want Daddy and Papa." Elijah's eyes grow glossy and wide, tired of not seeing his fathers.
"Elijah, don't cry." Carlos moves, sitting on the bed and pulling the young boy to his side. "You'll be seeing them, I promise. Would we and Mommy lie to you?" Carlos asks, rubbing Elijah's side. "No." He whispers, dropping his head.
"Exactly, now." Carlos stands, untucking the bed, helping Elijah lie in bed. "Go back to sleep. When you wake, we're going to see Papa and Daddy." Elijah nods his head, watching his two Uncles as they say goodnight to you, his sister, and then him.
"Bye." You wave as they sneak out of the room, careful not to get caught. "Mommy?" Elijah stares up at you from his bed. The huge bed engulfed his little body. "Can you read me a story?" The guilt hits you in full force again.
Elijah thought he'd see his Daddy and Papa, and they'd read him the story. Instead, you had to. "Of course, my little star." Slipping your shoes off, you climb into the bed, lying beside your son.
"There was once a little boy whose favorite color was red, and he wanted to make everyone proud when wearing it."
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"He is just a little ball of energy, isn't he?" Daniel asks, clicking Cécile into her little backpack he'd be using to carry her. "Yes, when he woke, he kept asking, Can we go? Can we go?" Watching Elijah bounce on the bed.
He picked out his outfit, wearing a McLaren hat, Ferrari shirt, and some other stuff making sure he was supporting his fathers and uncles.
"Can we go?" Elijah asks; Daniel snickers, pulling a small hat on Cécile's head to ensure she doesn't get hot. "Elijah, if you ask again, I'm taking us home." Voice stern.
He bounces one more time, then stops sitting on the bed. He knew you were serious and didn't want to see that threat through. "Thank you, now. What do we say to Uncle Danny?" Snapping on Elijah's shoes. "Thank you, Uncle Danny." Daniel clutches his chest, faking pain.
"He's so cute, I'll die." Daniel gasps. "Don't die!" Elijah cries, startling Cécile, who starts to cry. "Whoops." Daniel chuckles, moving fast to comfort the little girl on his chest.
"Alright, let's go before anyone else starts to cry." Helping Elijah off the bed, you grab his hand. "Rule check." You announce, Elijah looking up at you.
"No running off; always stay with Mommy or Uncles." Your son rattles off, and you grab the lanyard, placing it around his neck. "And what else?" You ask, smiling. "Surprise, Daddy and Papa!" Elijah yells happily, his little body shaking with excitement.
"Good boy." You praise, holding his hand. Slipping away from the crowds, you get into an unmarked car. Cécile makes noises as Daniel explains everything to her, telling her every little detail of what today will be.
"Mommy! Look, we're here!" Elijah claps his hands, seeing the track and the familiar gates come into view. "Pierre, Max, and Carlos have been able to slip away; they're going to meet us at the front gate," Daniel explains, pulling your daughter's hat down.
You're thankful for Daniel doing that. The 3 of you weren't ready to show off your daughter's face, and the drivers told the media not to take pictures of your daughter.
"Alright, let's go." You grab the diaper bag, helping Elijah out, he runs around your feet. "Uncle Maxie!" Elijah laughs, seeing Max talking to Carlos and Pierre.
Max turns around, hearing someone call him; the wind is knocked out of him when a little body collides with his stomach. "Elijah!" You gasp, shouting apologies to Max, who waves you off, saying it's okay.
"He's just so happy. It's fine." Max laughs, picking up Elijah and hugging him close. "I missed you, but I missed Daddy and Papa more." Elijah laughs, hugging Max again, who smiles at the boy's excitement. "Little star, are you ready to see Daddy and Papa?" You ask, knowing that they are already inside.
"Yes!" Elijah gasps, face lighting up. "Welp, let's go." Carlos points off to the distance, making everyone laugh. "Here, let me take her." You unclasp the pack, grabbing your daughter, who still sleeps, and nuzzling into your neck.
You keep your distance, watching as Carlos leads Elijah through the paddock. Looking around, your eyes latch right onto him, his curls wild, bright orange shirt and black jeans. "Elijah." Grabbing your son's attention, you point out Lando.
"Daddy." Elijah gasps, tears gathering in the boy's eyes. He takes off, zipping through people. Making your way over, you watch as the McLaren media person notices Elijah, quick to turn on his camera. Elijah grabs onto Lando, who stutters, shocked at someone touching him. He glances, not seeing the face, but stands still for a picture as the little boy looks up at Lando.
"Daddy!" Elijah cries, tears falling down his face; Lando stands there, shocked. "Elijah? Oh god, Elijah!" Lando shock wears off fast; dropping to his knees, he gathers his son into his arms. "Daddy! I've missed you!" Elijah sobs into his father's arms.
You, too, must wipe tears from your eyes, seeing Lando on the ground, holding Elijah tight. "Buddy, what are you doing here?" Lando pulls away from Elijah, shocked as he wipes tears from his face. "It's a surprise, Mommy said." Pointing at you as he flings his arms around Lando's neck.
"Y/n? Oh, baby." Lando stands, still holding Elijah as he pulls you into his arms. "Cécile, oh, my baby." Lando laughs, and a fresh set of tears fall. "Hi." You laugh, sniffling as you adjust Cécile, who whines, being squished.
"Elijah, buddy. I got to set you down, okay." Lando places his son down, quickly gathering you in his arms and kissing you softly. He pulls away, grabbing Cécile and placing kisses all over her face.
"Oh, Daddy has missed you so much, both of you." Lando gasps, pulling Elijah into the hug as well. "I'm going to lie down on the track; maybe this will end my torment." Daniel jokes, the others rolling their eyes and laughing.
"Does Charles know?" Lando kissed Elijah on his head, refusing to let the boy go. "No, we found you first." Grabbing Cécile, who whines loudly, reaching out for Lando, who laughs, grabbing her again. Laying her head on his shoulder, Lando's large hand covers her entire back.
"Come on, he's in the garage." Lando holds Elijah's hand, pointing everything out, where they can go and what they can do. Lando even shows Cécile off to some passing workers. "Alright, there he is. I think you should go up and hand him Cécile." Lando whispers, handing her back to you.
Nodding, you move around the garage, everyone smiling, seeing who the random person is approaching their drivers. "Charles? Do you mind holding Cécile?" You ask. Charles hums and grabs his daughter, not even batting an eye.
You see the moment he stops, looking down at the baby pulling on his necklace; his head turns slowly to look at you. Shock fills his eyes as he faces you. "Y/n? What? You didn't answer my phone calls!" Charles accuses, which has you laughing, hugging him tight.
"Shut up! I didn't want to ruin the surprise." You mumble into his neck as his free arm wraps around you, pulling you close. "Papa! My turn!" Elijah shoves his way between your bodies, Lando laughing as he takes Cécile so Charles can hug Elijah properly.
"It is your turn, my little ducky." Scooping Elijah into his arms, they hug each other tight, Elijah melting into his Papa's arms. "I missed you, don't leave that long again." Elijah whimpers, burying his head into Charles's chest.
"Never. We're never going to be gone that long again." Charles swears, pulling you and Lando into a hug. "We're back together; we'll never be apart again," Charles whispers.
And he held that promise to truth; the 5 of you were never apart again.
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lovingmattysposts · 5 months
Text
Welcome to my page😽
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(things to know about me, masterlist, rules)
Me!: HELLO FELLOW TRIPLET LOVERS. You can call me Autumn so you don't have to address me as 'lovingmattysposts' because WOW is that a mouthful. Also it was meant to be read as loving-matty's-posts but when you put it together it looks like it says loving-matty's-spots??? Whatever i tried.
If it wasn't clear, I'm a Matt girl! (Chris still hits different sometimes though). I'll go back an forth like damn elena gilbert but will always end on matty🫶.
I've been writing short stories since I was in middle school and I'm a freshman in college. (Still somehow can't spell for shit though for some reason). So not to hype myself up, but I would consider what I write to be decently okay and MAYBE even go as far to say a 'good read' lmao.
I want to get close with everyone one here so DO NOT BE AFRAID TO MESSAGE ME ABOUT ANYTHING! I'm going to turn on my requests and anon so that you can send in whatever you want, send me questions, statements, story ideas, whatever you guys want to see from me.
I write smut so: I'm 19 years old so some of the stories will contain smut and if that bothers you do. not. read. it. That's it. Just keep scrolling. Or! If you like my work but don't want to read about that stuff, I will have warnings before series parts for smutty parts. Just skip 'em. I will also have fluffs and just angsts and some chill ones, not all of em have to be getting that ddddddd-woahhh who said that...
What i plan on doing: I plan to keep up the My Best Friend's Brother story for a while (my first project), and I also have another story that i'm waiting to post. I plan on doing blurbs, one-shots, headcannons, texts, snaps from the boys. Whatever y'all want. JUST TELL ME.
What I won't write🫵❌: weird ass shit bro, just don't be weird with requests. Like, i'm not writing incest. (this should go without saying). Nick with a fem partner in a sexual way. I do not do threesomes or shit like that and I'm not getting too freaky with the smut, just good ole fashion LOVING (sometimes a tad freaky) smut 😄.
Now Go!
SERIES MASTERLIST
ONE-SHOT MASTERLIST
TAG LIST: COMMENT ON THIS POST
Love, Autumn
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islandofsages · 4 months
Note
Hey ! Can I ask for the Diasomnia boys reacting to a male!Ignihyde!reader who join the gargoyle club (idk if it's name) ?
Like, the reader is really just interest in the gargoyles, and isn't scare of Malleus (or anyone, really. Man is too tired for being scare.)
Ignore it if you don't want to write it.
Have a good day/night ! And happy new year too.
characters: diasomnia boys x male ignihyde reader
tags: platonic, canon compliant, fluff, imagines + scenario format; mentions of malleus in literally everything, lilia being a dad
warnings: none
author's notes: reader is so idgaf energy i love it. also i just remembered the small font feature exists LMAO do tell me if it's too small, i'll change it back to the original size!! if not, i'll change my previous posts to the smaller font. also you have a good day/night too anon ! and happy new year :D
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Malleus Draconia
Oh? You want to join the Gargoyle Studies Club? You’re being serious? Oh!
Words cannot describe how happy he is about a fellow gargoyle appreciator though his expression doesn’t really show that
And to think you see him as just another dude… such honor was bestowed upon him…!
He’ll excitedly bring you to every gargoyle he’s found on campus and infodump about them - and you’d write them down somewhere if you’re in the mood
Sometimes you’d find new gargoyles and bring him to them and you start to do likewise
Even outside of club activities you two geek out about gargoyles at times which has earned you two the title of nerds
“Have I told you about the time I’ve met talking gargoyles? I never thought I would see such a day…”
Gargoyles aside, he has times where he confides his personal daily life in you and in turn, he’ll ask you what’s it like being in Ignihyde, etc
After being around each other so much, it feels weird when you guys aren’t together - some people would ask where Malleus is whenever you’re on your own, and vice versa
People found it weird how close an Ignihyde student is to someone from a different dorm too and you’re not sure if you should be flattered or not
But in a sense, Malleus really is your other nerdy half.
Sebek Zigvolt
You?????? Join the club where Malleus is president and is the only member of?????????
“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU’RE WORTHY OF JOINING SUCH A CLUB?”
Well, for one, the fact that you’re unfazed by his constant yelling and therefore probably too tired to be fazed by anything, consequently making you the perfect companion to Malleus because you wouldn’t react inappropriately to Malleus’ conduct
And that you actually are interested in gargoyles. That too. You tell all this to him
He clutches his head with one hand, debating your logic. You don’t know how and why but he accepts your argument
That doesn’t stop him from monitoring you two’s activities from afar but, again, you couldn’t care less. A sixteen year old’s fanatics is just part of the growing process
Outside of club activities, he interrogates you on what you’ve discussed with Malleus and you just tell him the truth: gargoyles
At some point, he gets so engrossed in your infodump about gargoyles his eyes shine with a new light
Of course, he mentions something about Malleus obviously liking something so interesting and befitting of his status - but he also thanks you for enlightening him on the topic and that he’ll go to you for more information if need be
You’ve converted him. You sometimes see him clutching a book about gargoyles around the school. It’s filled with notes sticking out of the pages. And a portion of that sometimes he’ll run to you to confirm about a fact or two
Maybe it’s safe to say you two are kind of friends now.
Silver
He doesn’t think too much of it other than being glad that Malleus finally has a fellow gargoyle fan he can geek out with
He’d see you and Malleus chatting it up around campus and he can’t stop the tender smile on his face from making an appearance
Sometimes he himself will try to strike up a conversation with you and gargoyle geek aside, he finds that you’re just a pleasant person to talk to and be around
He admits he’s not too close with any of the folks from Ignihyde aside for the Shroud brothers but you brush him off by saying that nobody is really
He also admires how you don’t really let anything get to you. Again, you shrug it off by half-joking that you’re too tired to be scared by anything at this point
He somewhat empathizes with you on that point, grieving over his narcoleptic tendencies with a heavy sigh
You try your best to cheer him up or if you have experience with such things, you give him advice on how to manage it
You then jest that he can tag along with you and Malleus’ club activities whenever he’s free if he wants. The more, the merrier, right?
He ponders it for a minute and nods. You didn’t think he’d actually accept the offer
“I don’t see a reason to refuse. Sebek and I have accompanied Malleus on his trips before. I’m sure this time around will be more fun with you here.”
And so you all do. You all have a royal time together - and the joy on Silver’s face is especially princely.
Lilia Vanrouge
He sheds (crocodile) tears at the thought of Malleus finally having an additional member in his one-man club more friends
Since you’re chill about it, he is too! As long as you get along with Malleus, everything will be fine and dandy
If anything, he’s a bit impressed by how it takes more than the average amount to gain a reaction out of you 
…and a bit concerned. Are you sure you’re getting enough nutrients? His paternal instincts kick in when you tell him you’re too tired to have a reaction to anything
He knows that Ignihyde students are mostly shut-ins but he still advises you and makes sure you get a balanced diet
It’s like he’s adopted yet another son
“Oh, (Y/N), you really ought to take care of yourself more.”
You grow a bit annoyed at him sometimes but you know his intentions are good so you don’t protest
You do feel very loved though. You didn’t expect this much from just joining a club for a topic you’re genuinely interested in
But you have to admit it is kind of hard to come by people who aren’t intimidated by the Malleus Draconia, even if you don’t see it as anything special
What’s special, though, is the affection Lilia holds for you.
594 notes · View notes