#final appearance for robert for that year | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zvaigzdelasas · 3 months

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President Joe Biden “willfully retained and disclosed classified materials after his vice presidency,” according to a final report released Thursday by a Department of Justice special counsel.

But special counsel Robert Hur said he was declining to prosecute Biden over his handling of that material.

The FBI found that material in the garage, offices, and basement den in Biden’s Wilmington, Delaware, home. It included documents about military and foreign policy in Afghanistan, and notebooks containing Biden’s entries about national security, the new report said.

“Our investigation uncovered evidence that President Biden willfully retained and disclosed classified materials after his vice presidency when he was a private citizen,” Hur wrote.

“He knew he kept classified information in notebooks stored in his house and he knew he was not allowed to do so.”

But that evidence “does not establish Mr. Biden’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt,” the special counsel wrote.

Hur in his nearly 400-page report wrote, “We have also considered that, at trial, Mr. Biden would likely present himself to a jury, as he did during our interview of him, as a sympathetic, well-meaning, elderly man with a poor memory.”

“We conclude that no criminal charges are warranted in this matter,” the report said. [...]

Hur was blunt in detailing lapses in Biden’s memory when he was interviewed for the probe.

“He did not remember when he was vice president, forgetting on the first day of the interview when his term ended (‘if it was 2013 - when did I stop being Vice President?’), and forgetting on the second day of the interview when his term began (‘in 2009, am I still Vice President?’),” the report said.

“He did not remember, even within several years, when his son Beau died. And his memory appeared hazy when describing the Afghanistan debate that was once so important to him,” Hur wrote.

“In a case where the government must prove that Mr. Biden knew he had possession of the classified Afghanistan documents after the vice presidency and chose to keep those documents, knowing he was violating the law, we expect that at trial, his attorneys would emphasize these limitations in his recall,” the special counsel added.

Biden in a statement said, “I was pleased to see they reached the conclusion I believed all along they would reach – that there would be no charges brought in this case and the matter is now closed.”[...]

Trump was charged in June with 37 felonies, including willful retention of national defense information, a violation of the Espionage Act.

Trump had hundreds more classified documents in his possession than Biden did — more than 300 in total, including 102 that were seized during an FBI raid on Trump’s Palm Beach resort home in August 2022. Trump has pleaded not guilty to the charges.

Hur’s report Thursday said that the materials recovered from Biden spanned his career in national office from 1973 when he became a U.S. senator, and through his two terms as vice president under former President Barack Obama from 2009 through early 2017.

Biden during his career “has long seen himself as a historic figure,” and during that time collected papers and artifacts that were connected to “significant issues and events in his career,” the report said.

“He used these materials to write memoirs published in 2007 and 2017, to document his legacy, and to cite as evidence that he was a man of presidential timber,” Hur wrote.

Well we're officially never gonna hear the end of this one huh [8 Feb 24]

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msmorningstaarr · 4 months

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let me fill you up | Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader

ao3 | masterlist

Pairing: Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader

Summary: You, a Targaryen princess were married into the Lannister fold to ensure the alliance between the two houses, ensuring your eldest brother’s claim to the Iron Throne. Now, Lord Jaime makes your days filled with happiness and makes you eager to present him babies.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: rhaegar wins AU, no targcest, smuff, fluff, breeding kink, praising kink, a lot of pet names (sweet girl, princess, love), reader has no physical description besides the silvery white targaryen hair, creampie, oral (f receiving), a very devoted husband commited to your pleasure, smut, sex;

a/n: Happy new year! I had posted I wanted to write something like that and it's been a while since I want to write something other than holy and heathen because I must admit I'm not very satisfied with what I've been writing lately. Some validation kudos, comments and reblogs would be very important to me, seriously :') I’ve been thinking in turning this into a small series but I’m not so sure. Could you give me your thoughts on this too? please, enjoy your reading!

Taglist: @princessanglophile @hiroikegawa @hiraethrhapsody

You are sitting surrounded by your maids and children on a breezy night, covered with a fur coat and a crimson silk dress under it. Attentively, you go stitch by stitch and slowly form a lion, sigil of your husband’s house. Ever since Robert’s Rebellion ended and your brother, King Rhaegar Targaryen won, you became promised to the former knight of the Kingsguard, now Lord Jaime Lannister. Life in the lion’s den was not difficult, once Lord Tywin treated her with the most kindness and Jaime was still coming out of his shell. At first, he was your sworn sword in King’s Landing and spent plenty of time together in an unbalanced relationship. Now, you two are sharing a bed after a tumultuous year of war and destruction, as equals. In the beginning, you were sceptical about marrying into the Lannister household, but as the months went by, you found yourself drowned at him. Jaime is careful, gentle and kind. He brings you a small dandelion every morning once he knows it reminds you of home.

His only quirk was the strange attachment to his sister, Lady Cersei. But after being sent to Dorne to marry Prince Oberyn of House Martell and getting distant from each other, your relationship with your husband seemed to finally thrive.

“It appears to be beautiful, my lady.” Said one of her maids, taking care of your youngest son, a small silvery blonde figure of two years of age.

“A bright lion handkerchief for Jaime to carry with him.” You reply, admiring your piece of work. “Do you believe your father will like it, sweetling?” You then ask your eldest daughter, an adorable child of four. Your daughter eagerly nods her head and wraps her hands around one of your fingers to pull the fabric closer to her eyes.

“Dada will love it, mama!” The little one exclaimed, spinning around with the kerchief on her tiny hands.

“What will I love, if I’m allowed to ask?” A tall, blonde figure shows up in your private bedchambers, wearing a classic Westerland attire with a crimson fabric and intricate strings of gold shaped into the sleeves and collar. You smile sweetly to Jaime as he approaches you and grabs your middle child to hold in his arms.

“Papa!” The blonde little girl runs towards her father to embrace his legs and your maids stand up to bow to their lord.

“Have you missed me, dear?” Jaime asked and the fussy children eagerly nodded at him, embracing their father even more. Sometimes, seeing Jaime being so loving and kind towards your children simply melted your heart. You felt the urgency to kiss him and dig your fingers onto his bright hair, begging him for another child. Your cunt ached in pleasure to the thought of Jaime pumping his seed inside of you. You were still young and could bear many more children.

“Mm-rrhm…” You scoffed. “I have missed you too, husband.”

The three children giggled and the child on his arms hid his face on the crook of Jaime’s neck. The eldest covered her laugh with her tiny hands and the youngest beamed along their siblings. Jaime came closer to you and caressed your cheeks with his free hand. Then, a single and gentle kiss he places over your forehead, making your heart flutters with love and passion.

“I have missed you too, my love.” Jaime said, passing his fingertips on your chin and smiling at you.

Your maids quickly stood up and bowed at their overlord as a sign of respect. “Excuse me, my lord, my lady,” Said the servant girl. “Let us take the children so you can rest.”

“But I want to stay with papa!” Said the elder daughter, pouting and crossing her arms. The other two children whined and complained along, but you lowered into their level whilst Jaime talked to the youngest on his arm.

“Sweetlings,” She said, caressing their cheeks. “Your father is rather tired after riding for so long. Go with her, I promise you, your siblings, me and your father will have plenty of time together on the morrow. Is that understood, my loves?”

“I can take you to ride a horse tomorrow and even let you eat lemon cakes before super. What do you think?” Jaime asked, delivering the fussy child from his arms to the other maid. In unison, the three infants agreed and left disappointed. Once you and your husband were alone in your bedchambers, Jaime smiled at you gallantly. You embrace him intimately and are finally able to feel the warmth of his muscular body and feel the softness of his golden hair. His lips reach yours and in a whirlwind of sensations, your cunt is already dripping in anticipation just by a simple touch coming from him. Once he breaks the kiss, he keeps holding you by your waist and gazing at you with admiration.

“You have been gone for too long, love.” You say, passing your fingertips on his lips. He smiles and gives you a peck on the lips before speaking.

“I had duties with your brother, Our Grace King Rhaegar, sweet girl.” Jaime replies, pulling her out gently and grabbing the fabric she embroidered for him.

“I hope you like it, I made it just for you.” You point out, joining your hands to follow him. He keeps smiling as he observes attentively the intricate work you did.

“I shall cherish it and take it wherever I go, dragon princess.” He replied, folding and putting the kerchief in one of his pockets. You giggle as you hear him calling you ‘dragon princess’, a custom he chose to never abandon as a form to remember the late days of their relationship “I wish I had more time to be around and play with the children, I have been missing them and you.”

“They made drawings every day and left it on your desk at your office.” You reply, walking to the window and being followed by him.

“I will make sure to have them guarded in our chambers. Safe as our gold.” He says, hugging you from behind and kissing your neck lightly. You beam in ecstasy feeling his body smother you into a comforting embrace and full missing him.

“Sometimes I still cannot believe we are wedded to each other. You were my sworn shield in King’s Landing!” You exclaim as his hand caresses your empty belly and it tingles by his touch. He grins at your words and says.

“Most people are not so lucky to know your spouse before the wedding day. I consider myself the most lucky man in the world because I could be in your acquaintance from so long ago.” He replies, falling his head on the crook of your neck.

You turn around to be face to face with Jaime, feeling the cold breeze of the rock hitting your back and giving you small shocks as Jaime caresses your back, making you experience a thermal shock and shudder to his touch.

“I feel very lucky to be your wife, Jaime. Most women are not so fortunate to have such a kind, loving and handsome husband.” You mutter as he strokes your hair, in awe with your beauty.

“I guess we are fortunate to be together after so many troubles in war. We even brought new lives into this world to paint a new, brightful history.” He replies, caressing your womb. You stare at his fingers passing up and down your belly and glances at him with a sweet smile.

“And we could have more, love. I must admit I feel empty for so long and I want to give you more children… I know I can give you an entire army of your own. Half lion, half dragon. Unstoppable creatures.”

“You feel empty, love?” He asks, smirking and you eagerly agree with him. “Then allow me to fill you up…” Jaime finished, slowly undoing the intricate laces of your dress to reveal your bare skin under the crimson fabric. In response, you open his attire slowly and little by little his white tunic appears to her eyes.

By this point, your cunt is already sore in anticipation for the moment about to happen and clenches around nothing once he pushes the last section of string holding your garment, releasing you from the pressure tightening your upper body. Jaime pushes down your dress and your underwear is now on display for him, which makes him bite his lip and eagerly take down your white camisole to show him your bare body. You moan as he squeezes your breast and pinches your nipples whilst kissing you. You quickly take off his own undershirt to show off his chest.

“So eager is my dragon princess.” He playfully says, leading you to bed and carefully laying you down. With devotion, he starts to kiss your feet, legs and knees, his hands roaming through your thighs and hips. “Spread your legs for me, little dragon.”

You part your legs, obeying his soft command. “So wet… I can see you truly missed me, my love.” He says, kissing your inner thighs as your body squirms in pleasure before he reaches your intimacy.

“Oh… I have missed you so much, my lion.” You moan your words as he kisses your groyne and passes his fingers lightly over your clit, making your womb tremble and convulse to his touch.

“I can see that, just as I missed you, my dragon princess. Do I have permission to give you a lord’s kiss?” He asks and you only nod in response, making Jaime wet his lips with his own saliva before diving into your dripping core and you to scream involuntarily as his tongue and lips eat you up with full desire. Jaime circles his tongue around your clit and roam around your entire intimacy, making your hips bounce onto his direction. It was his costume to make you come every time before he would be inside of you, now could not be different.

You feel your body explode as if someone threw you into dragon fire as Jaime relentlessly pleases you, making magic with his tongue. Skillfully, he explores your intimate area inch by inch with eagerness, making you dig your fingers on his golden curls, pulling him closer to your cunt and you contorses your body urging for more. Tears of pleasure fall off as you feel goosebumps once you realise you are close to your climax.

As the intensity builds, Jaime's movements become more deliberate, pushing you closer to the edge of bliss. Your breath hitches, and your fingers entwine in his golden locks, urging him on. The world narrows down to the pleasure he provides, the connection between you deepening with every passing moment.

When the climax finally crashes over you, Jaime doesn't relent. He continues to caress your sensitive core with his tongue, prolonging the sweet release. Your body shudders with pleasure, and you feel the bond between you and Jaime reaching new heights.

“Husband…” You try to stop him and give yourself some time to take a breath, but Jaime does not back off and part your legs once more, holding it as he keeps licking, kissing and sucking your pussy.

“No no, wife… let me please you and bring you to climax once more…” He cuts your words and gently goes back, but now he plays with his fingers on your clit, with far less pressure and slowly draws circles around it, taking soft moans from you. Jaime rises to hover over you, a wicked glint in his eyes. His fingers trace patterns on your flushed skin as he leans in for a heated kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips. “Taste yourself, love.”

And not so long after, you scream his name as you feel waves of pleasure hitting your body as a lightning bolt hits the ground in a storm. Your body is trembling and your legs seem to be two wooden sticks, barely able to stand.

“Please… inside of me, Jaime… I need you…” You plead with him, pulling his body to be on top of yours.

“Your wish is my command, princess.” He replies, kissing you passionately once more and positioning between your legs. Jaime's eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of desire and adoration. The anticipation was hanging heavy in the air, your bodies aligned perfectly, and as he slowly entered you, a shared moan escaped both of your lips.

The sensation is electrifying, the culmination of the pleasure he bestowed upon you and the intimate connection between your bodies. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deepening the bond that exists only between you two.

“My perfect princess takes me so well…” He grows as thrusts into you going back and forth nonstop. You lock him by involving your legs around his waist and feeling his hard cock entering your cunt in full force, reaching your cervix and making you beg for more in his ear.

The room echoes with the sounds of your shared ecstasy, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies, creating a tapestry of love and passion.

“Put another babe on my belly Ser, please…” You beg him as moans leave your mouth and the sound of crashing bodies fill the room quickly.

“With pleasure, love…” He says once more. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deeper inside of your pussy in farfetched positions. He missed you too much after months away from you and it shows by the way he kisses you as he moves desperately to have more of mounting his dragon. The room echoes with the sounds of your shared passion, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies. As Jaime's movements become faster, the pleasure intensifies, and you find yourself on the verge of another climax. The pleasure is overwhelming, and your bodies move in perfect harmony.

With a final, fervent thrust, Jaime succumbs to the ecstasy and releases his seed deep inside of your womb, growling and grunting with relief and utter bliss. You hit your own orgasm as you feel the warm jets of his seed invading your walls and your body squirm and you scream his name, crying out.

Your bodies tremble in the aftermath, and he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. The room is filled with a comforting silence as you both catch your breath. Jaime's fingers gently trace patterns on your skin as you bask in the warmth of the afterglow. “Do you think we created one more life for our household, love?” You ask him, laying your head on his chest. The world outside your chambers seems distant, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, lost in the serenity of each other's embrace.

“Depending on your fertile womb, my love, I have no doubts you are.” He replies, caressing your silvery white hair. “But we must endure in our pursuit on a daily routine. Just to make sure our fourth babe is on the way.” He playfully replies, smirking at you, who mischievously smiles back at him and kisses his lips, wiping some strings of sweat from his face.

Jaime presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice a soothing murmur, "I love you, my dragon princess."

And you, wrapped in the arms of the man you love, whisper back, "And I love you, my lion shield."

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bussyslayer333 · 2 years

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All I want for Christmas (is you)

summary: some fortunately placed mistletoe forces bob to tell you how he truly feels.

pairing: robert floyd x best friend!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: smut, swearing, mentions of alcohol, slutshaming jake LOL, bob is a pussyeater™️ bc i said so

MDNI this is an 18+ fic

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Robert Floyd has been your closest friend for the past 2 years. You had been worried when you first moved to San Diego for a fresh start that it had been a horrible mistake, in fact you were sat in homesick tears at the beach when he stumbled upon you. Since that day he hadn’t really left your side, which is where he could be found currently.

You were both nursing an interesting mulled wine that Rooster had tried to brew for the team Christmas party. You weren’t quite sure why you were here since you didn’t work with said group of aviators who had become your closest friends but they had absolutely insisted.

The night had just started really, Penny was graciously hosting the gathering at the festively decorated Hard Deck which she had closed just for the team. You had begged her to let you help in some way since you were leaching on to their party so she had allowed you to help her decorate along with Mav and Rooster. The perimeter was surrounded in sparkly tinsel and fairy lights, there was a large tree in the corner of the room covered in mismatched baubles and a large piece of mistletoe hanging down in the other corner. You were still wary of Rooster’s mischievous giggles as he taped it up.

When the rest of the aviators had arrived along with the few higher ups Mav had invited they had all commended your decorating skills, especially Bob. He had told you very early on that Christmas was one of his favourite holidays, evident now by his gaudy (and most definitely itchy) Christmas sweater he was wearing.

“Baby on board, you’re gonna have to turn that shit off I’m pretty sure your interfering with some type of space station signal right now.”

Jake laughed, referring to the Christmas lights which actually lit up on Bob’s sweater. You jumped to his defence immediately,

“What are you even supposed to be? Slutty Santa? Tasteful.”

Phoenix snorted into her wine, though you weren’t sure if it was because she had accidentally swallowed a cinnamon stick again.

Jake smirked, “you want to come sit on my lap and find out?”

He gestured down to the tight black slacks he was wearing, it was paired with a very lowly buttoned up red silk shirt and a tiny Santa hat that had been placed on his head by Maverick upon his entrance.

You roll your eyes and don’t dignify him a response whilst everyone slowly resumes their previous conversation.

“Thanks darlin’.” Bob smiled down at you somewhat bashfully.

You giggle at him and flick the button on his sweater which changes the setting on the lights to fade in and out of their colours slowly.

“I love this sweater.”

“I know you do, that’s why I wore it.”

You look up to meet his eyes and he’s looking at you earnestly. You flush slightly but blame it on the drinks you’ve been consuming.

You’re snapped from his gaze when Fanboy announces loudly that he and Payback will be starting off karaoke.

Their rendition of ‘Baby it’s cold outside’ isn’t the worst thing you’ve ever heard, and Fanboy has a surprisingly high vocal range. Bob is snickering into your hair behind you, trying to appear encouraging for his fellow WSO but failing slightly.

“Bet you 50 that bagman is gonna sing Mariah.”

You turn, shocked at Bob’s admission, “no way! He’s gonna sing some Frank Sinatra classic in hopes that I’ll start swooning.”

Bob raises his eyebrows and sticks his hand out for you to shake. You hum, considering your options then finally give in, placing your hand in his. Bob notes how soft your hand is compared to his, he strokes your thumb slightly before letting go. The contact brings heat to your cheeks that you hope isn’t too visible.

“You’re on Robby.”

Bob’s lips quirk up at the nickname but he doesn’t mention it, and he stalks off to get himself another drink. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding as Phoenix approaches.

She has a sly smile on her face but still looks gorgeous nonetheless, she’s wearing an emerald satin top and black jeans. You go to complement her but she cuts in,

“You look gorgeous, I love this dress, when are you and Bob going to fuck?”

You’re still comprehending her comment about your dress before her full statement registers in your brain. You gawk at her for a second whilst she chuckles evilly.

“I- we’re not- Look me and Bob are just friends.”

She rolls her eyes, Phoenix has been your second closest friend since moving to San Diego. Her presence was always welcome and you usually adored her but you weren’t enjoying what she was currently insisting upon. And that wasn’t because it isn’t true, but more because you’re worried what will happen if you finally say it aloud.

“You are thinking so loudly right now.”

You shove her shoulder lightly, “He’s not interested in me.”

You look over to where Bob is stood at the bar, talking to a tall redhead. You think her name is Isla, she works in the control tower and to your knowledge was invited by Halo.

Phoenix laughs at your admission and wistful expression, “I cannot believe you’re this down bad for a man in a light up Christmas sweater. Also, he is head over heels for you.”

“I like his sweater!”

“You are the only one in here who thinks that.”

You hmph at Phoenix’s comment, “I bet she does as well.”

You gesture to the redhead who is now laughing heartily as Bob shows her the different settings on his sweater.

“Who? Halo’s girlfriend?”

You splutter slightly on your drink.“I thought she had a thing with that girl at work- ohhhhhhh.”

Phoenix scoffs slightly, “Glad to know you pay attention to the rest of us babe.”

“Shush, should I go talk to him?”

“You don’t need to.”

You look confusedly at Phoenix until you feel a familiar strong hand on your waist.

“I’m not interrupting am I?”

Phoenix answers for you, “Of course not, she’s all yours.”

With that, she winks and is off. You turn to face Bob, he’s significantly taller than you and it feels evident now even with your heels on. You’re craning your neck up slightly to make eye contact with him. You take a second to study how he looks, his cheeks are tinted slightly pink and his lips look incredibly soft, his blue eyes are dilated behind his glasses where his hair flops slightly down onto. He forwent the gel because he knows you like his hair in its natural state, even if it impairs his vision even more. He speaks up first,

“You look really beautiful tonight.”

You avert your eyes from his, aware of the rising colour in your cheeks.

“You think?”

You’re fiddling girlishly with the hem of your dress, it’s a babydoll style dress that always got you many compliments.

“I know.”

You can sense that Bob has something else he wants to say but he’s interrupted by Rooster announcing the next person to come and sing.

“Bagman, please take the stage.”

Jake grabs the mic off Bradley and you hear him mumble something about getting his callsign right. Bob’s hand is in yours and he’s pulling you over to the corner of the room furthest from the stage. You look at him questioningly and he’s explaining himself with a smirk on his face,

“I wanted to give you some privacy whilst you lose this bet.”

You smack his arm playfully,

“Shut up, you’re just embarrassed you’re wrong.”

“Sureee.”

Jake has finally finished his rambling and selects a song. You’re certain he’s gonna pick a Sinatra classic and wait for the opening notes to Have yourself a merry little Christmas. It’s safe to say you’re surprised when the familiar jingle of Mariah Carey starts up and Jake is already belting out the first notes. You look at Bob, accusatory,

“You’ve rigged this!”

Bob is doubled over laughing, you finally take your eyes off of him to turn around and huff. Which is when you notice your fortunate position. You and Bob are stood directly under Rooster’s mistletoe. You freeze slightly which catches Bob’s attention, he follows your eye line.

“Gosh, I promise I didn’t drag you over here just to kiss you!”

“Just?” You tease.

“No! I mean obviously I would love to kiss you but that’s not what i meant! I wouldn’t ever trick you into-”

You shut up his rambling my planting a kiss on his lips, they’re as soft as you imagined and he tastes sweet like the cinnamon in the wine. He kisses you back almost immediately and your lips mould together perfectly. You pull away first, noticing some of your lipgloss had transferred onto his slightly swollen lips.

“Woah.”

Bob’s exclamation makes you giggle, he’s gazing down at you in awe and you feel enclosed in a fuzzy bubble where it’s just the two of you. Hangman’s awful singing sounds light years away as well as the rest of the crowds cheers for him. Bob places one of his hands on your waist and the other he uses to lift up and brush a stray hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Can I kiss you again?” Bob whispers, ever the gentleman.

“I’d love you to.” You smile, leaning in.

You lips crash against each other again, with more vigour this time. Your hands rake through the hair at the back of his neck and he moans quietly into your mouth, giving you the initiative to slip your tongue into his mouth. He reciprocates your action, making you weak in the knees, unsteady in your heels. In the distance you hear Jake finishing up the last notes of Mariah Carey whilst everyone joins in at various different volumes. Bob pulls away and whispers into your ear,

“Do you think we could sneak out now?”

You go to protest, seeing as you haven’t been here long but see the lust blown look in his eyes and decide against it, instead nodding your head and slipping your hand into his. Bob drags you around the crowds to the exit of the Hard Deck. Before you can peacefully slip through the door you look back and catch Phoenix’s eye. She winks with a knowing smile and you giggle slightly. She was never wrong.

Finally leaving the Hard Deck you notice Bob is dragging you to his car,

“I’m only five mins away.” You smirk into his shoulder.

“Yours it is.”

The short drive to your house is tense, neither of you sure whether this was truly happening. Bob speaks up,

“As much as I want to fuck you, I can’t if it’s just gonna be a one time thing. I’ve been in love with you since the day we met. ”

You look to him and see how honest he looks, gnawing at his lower lip nervously, your heart races at his admission. You smack his arm in annoyance.

“Ow!”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner!” You urge him, “I’ve been yours this whole time. All you had to do was tell me you’re mine.”

Bob looks down at you with such love in his eyes it’s hard to imagine that you just smacked the shit out of him. You’re pulling up to the outside of your cottage when he finally speaks up.

“I’m yours.”

You smash your lips again his for the third time this night with even more urgency, but you pull away even quicker, wary of your nosy middle aged neighbours.

Once your front door is closed, Bob’s hands are all over you. He’s lifting the hem of your dress to your waist and grabbing at the exposed skin. You let out slightly pathetic whimpers as his kisses make their way down your neck, chest and stomach.

“Never stop making those sounds for me darlin’.”

You whimper at the pet name, satiating him. His kisses reach your lower stomach where he finally stops to admire your panties. They’re cherry red, lacy, and don’t leave much to the imagination. He groans at the sight, making you flush even further whilst he toys with the little bow at the top.

“Can I?” He gestures downwards.

“Please.” You whine.

Bob’s nimble fingers are hooking under the sides of your panties and he pulls them down to your ankles swiftly. He helps you step out of them, removing your heels along the way. You watch as he pockets the panties with a smile on his face and he quirks an eyebrow. Bob’s staring at your bare pussy like a man starved but you can’t help but giggle.

“Are you seriously about to eat me out wearing a light up Christmas sweater?”

Instead of dignifying you with an answer, Bob licks a fat stripe in between your folds, hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder and forcing you to lean back against your entry way wall.

“Fuck, yeah okay then.” You whimper breathlessly.

Bob seems pleased with your reaction as he continues his ministrations, now kitten licking at your clit. You can feel the cool edges of his glasses hitting your lower stomach and your whole body feels alight with need for the man in front of you. He moves his tongue down to your entrance and dips it in slightly, his nose nudging at your clit. You moan out at the contact, spurring him on further. Bob’s tongue is fucking in and out of you, each time his nose brushes against your clit making you even weaker beneath his touch. Your hands are curled tight in his hair as you feel yourself getting closer and closer.

“Fuck don’t stop, please Robby.”

Bob looks up at you from his position on his knees making you whine much louder than you should have. His hand moves down from its solid grip on your thigh to circle at you clit in tight circles. You’re moaning freely now, hips bucking up erratically. Bob can feel you’re close and he quickens his actions just enough to make you become even more high pitched as you reach you peak. Pleasure washes over you and Bob pulls his tongue away from you to watch you spasm.

“You taste so good darlin,” Bob whines, almost as breathless as you.

You can see your wetness around his mouth and his hard cock straining against his jeans.

“You’re incredible.” You simper, pulling Bob to his feet.

He pulls your lips together, making you moan at the taste of you on his tongue. Pulling away to look up at him, you finally rid yourself of your dress, pulling it up and over your head and dropping it to the floor beside you. You had forgone a bra whilst getting ready, so you stood bare in front of the still fully clothed Bob.

“God,” Bob groans, “You’re fucking amazing.”

“Robert! Your language is dreadful.” You giggle playfully.

He reaches for your hand and brings it down to his aching cock. It twitches beneath your palm which is significantly smaller than his,

“It’s just what you do to me.” He breathes into the side of your neck.

You pull away from him and turn around, making your way to the stairs that lead to your bedroom. Bob watches your figure retreat, focusing his eyes in on the way your hips sway and your ass moves as you walk. You turn your head to the side and beckon for him,

“You coming, Robby?”

Bob is hurriedly ridding himself of his sweater and jeans as he replies,

“Hopefully.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: CHRISTMAS BOB MY LOVE!!!! there will be more christmas fics for sure bc i am a festive gal tbh. lew lew loml

this is low-key self indulgent af sorry HEHEH

pls comment and reblog or send me an ask and tell me what u think !!

ty for readinggggg :)

- honey <333

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castiellesbian · 6 months

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ran out of options but feel free to include something else. other ideas include dean driving for like 50 years or the crew waving goodbye at the end of the episode with many maskless despite there being a global pandemic that they cited as a reason people like cas didn't make an appearance

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its-your-mind · 4 months

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alright fuck this I’m making a TIMELINE. and a FACT SHEET. it will not be in order. Nor will it actually track dates really. Mostly it’s going to contain the seeds of my theories. I’m red stringing this Shit via tumblr post on mobile.

TIMELINE:

Magnus Institute fire: 1999

Windows NT 4.0 (the Windows NT that was the commercial predecessor to Windows 95) was released to retail in 1996 (with the final version released in 2001) so Freddy has been creeping around the web since around the time the Institute burned down

Jon, Martin, and probable Jonah Norris, Chester, and Augustus started actively reading roughly 1/30 statements entries out loud ~a year ago, according to Alice

Statements Entries so far are dated to May 2022, and it’s implied that Freddy collects them more or less as they appear, so as far as rough estimates for when tmp is set, it’s nowish, or just a bit earlier than now (similar to how tma was)

My kingdom for an ARG player who can hook me up with the founding date of the OIAR and the dates on those Magnus Institute records, just cuz I’m curious

SHIT WE KNOW:

Jonah Magnus exist(s/ed) in SOME form in this world, and built an institution designed to research the paranormal. That institution burned down and cleared of all records. Unclear exactly when the clearing happened.

The voices in the computer are the same as Martin Blackwood’s and Jonathan Sims’s

The OIAR has a department (this one) dedicated entirely to sorting weird shit scraped from online with an obsessive specificity

Everyone who works in this department wasn’t forced to be here and isn’t forced to stay, but all of them do have something that guided them to this position and is keeping them here

There is supernatural shit happening here in this world right now

Annabelle Cane said that the rift under Hilltop Road was a rift in reality - time, space, dimensions

She also said that the Fears would be following the voices that were woven into the web made of the tapes

In the TMA-verse, the Fears had a penchant for spreading themselves around via books (and then someone stupid idiot motherfucking dusty ass book collecting rat old bastard avatar of the whore biggest clown in the circus cowboy— starting slapping a label on em

SHIT THAT IS STILL A ???:

Did the fears exist in this world for an extended period of time, or have they only recently appeared? All the dates we have for statements entries are recent, but there was at the very least some FUCKED UP SHIT happening before the jmart+Jimmy Magma squad popped up

Did Robert Smirk build batshit crazy buildings and also a panopticon under London?

Was Magnus fear-aligned? Was the Institute? Or was it just a place for fucked up research?

Are there alternate-reality versions of any beloved TMA recurring cast members running about?

Was the og TMA world the place where the Fears started? Or had they already spread?

How far have they made it at this point? Is this the first new world post-archives-crew? Or are we several down the chain?

COLLECTION OF FACTS INTO BATSHIT THEORIES:

The Fears have been Updated for the Twentieth (not twenty-first, rip to Colin) Century and now they have infused themselves into computer systems via Jon’s tapes letting them encode themselves in a new and fun way (I am not 100% sure how tapes work besides magnets somehow, but I DO know that early computers used them for data tracking, which makes enough dream-logic sense for me) and are thus able to hack themselves into forum posts and also spy on the whole world via one (1) government computer system

Panopticon screenshot happened in March 2021. First two statements are May 2022. Alice said the voices started showing up about a year ago. So even if the Fears were already here, JMart are here now once more to lend their voices to the verbal record of Fear

Speaking of the Fears already being here. If the Rift was also for Time, I’m sure the Web could have figured out a way to drag the Squad back along the timeline while somehow leaving jmart behind

OIAR is EITHER. The Fears (Web specifically) preparing a perfect funnel-spider web trap for JMart when they did show up (oh voices? tapes? telling fear stories? here you go motherfuckers) or someone’s Leitner/Smirk/Magnus-ass attempt to wrangle all the trauma under one roof. Either way I’m p sure it is Web-ish-aligned, if the Fears even exist in this world in the way we’re used to seeing them

If we’ve got two grown up paranormal guinea pigs, AND a bouchard running around, and all of them are here because of Some Sort Of Reason, and are Still Here Even Though They Could Leave, I assume everyone else is too. I wonder if they all have some tie to this world’s Institute, or if they’ve all had encounters, or were selected based on their compatibility with the OIAR’s aims

Speaking of which

WHAT IS THE OIAR? Cuz this part of it is clearly kinda similar to the Archives in terms of collecting and sorting statements. Is there more of it? What do those people do? Do they use these sorted entries somehow? Also why tf do they have do work overnight????

#tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp spoilers #tma spoilers #the magnus protocol spoilers #the web #tmagp meta #tmagp speculation #tmagp theory #OIAR #everyone start yelling back at me I am THRIVING I have needed something to throw my conspiracy theory energy at

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literallysatanofficial · 2 years

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Alright, I'm going to attempt to hopefully clear up a few misconceptions and assuage some worries about this Disco Elysium sequel and the general situation at za/um right now.

I see the shitshow that is unfolding on social media, and as someone who has known about this whole disaster for over half a year now I'd like to weigh in on it and provide some context for everyone who may not know the full story.

First off, Robert Kurvitz was fired at the end of last year. December 2021. As is strongly implied on Martin Luiga's twitter, the reason for this is greed (calling them "money men" and "crooks" and other similar statements for like, months now), and the executive producers, Tõnis Haavel (who has previously been tried for fraud) and Kaur Kender (who has previously been tried for... other things.) screwed everyone over. Kender provided funding for the game, as the majority of the original za/um cultural association did not have the financial means to.

The original za/um cultural association consisted of Robert Kurvitz, Jüri Saks, Martin Luiga, and Aleksander Rostov, originally founded in in 2009. The group, along with Argo Tuulik, played many different ttrpg campaigns over the years, several of them set in Revachol (centred around Precinct 41), and slowly built the world up from there. Kurvitz released the book The Sacred and Terrible Air, set 20 years after Disco Elysium, back in 2013* but the novel flopped, and it was decided that they would make a video game. Rostov has always been more than just an artist for Disco Elysium, as you can see from the dev threads he frequently updated promoting the game, as well as on his personal instagram, tumblr sketch blog, and several other accounts he used while the game was first gaining traction.

*The most notable credits for TSaTA are as follows:

Author: Robert Kurvitz, Editor: Martin Luiga, Cover Design: Aleksander Rostov, Worldbuilding: Robert Kurvitz, Martin Luiga, Kaspar Kalvet, Argo Tuulik. Helen Hindpere and Kaur Kender also appear in the credits.

I say this because some of the staff at za/um are now accusing fans of being unable to overcome the "auteur theory" of it all (ie. seeing Kurvitz as the singular creative mind behind it all) but the fact is that they have now lost not only the original ttrpg campaign's game master, The Sacred and Terrible Air's author, and Disco Elysium's lead writer/director (Kurvitz) but also their lead writer for the Final Cut's political vision quests (Hindpere) as well as their "co-founder" and art director/designer (Rostov). They are all CREATIVE LEADS, and not just well known only for their reputations/titles.

Luiga himself (who originally broke the news) was an Elysium world builder and provided much of the pale and innocence-related lore. He was also a part of the original tabletop campaigns (Chester McLaine is his player character!), but left midway through Disco Elysium's development due to creative differences (or as he says, "bad vibes" at the company). He is credited as an editor, but claims to have written a good chunk of the text in the game, including much of Joyce's dialogue about the pale. I have seen people discredit him due to his early departure, but Rostov also tweeted out confirming that he, along with Hindpere and Kurvitz were no longer at the company, with no additional comments. Rostov also posted a drawing on his twitter several months back depicting a man jerking off over an NDA, so take that as you will.

So what does this mean for the future?

Luiga has said that he has hope for the sequel, which could either mean that the script was finished or nearing completion before Kurvitz was fired (likely, and fits a pattern in the industry) and it's just a matter of finishing the actual game development aspect, or it may be that he has hope for the original za/um creatives to be able to re-acquire the IP.

I think it's worth pointing out that the original pitch for "Disco Elysium" was actually "The Return", and Disco Elysium was meant to be the smaller-scale prequel to introduce players to the world. Considering that the team was planning on this sequel all along, I think it's possible that a large amount of the "original" game was written years ago, so it's not all that far fetched to believe that the basic outline may be finished, or even that a large portion of the script already exists. Keep in mind that there are a large number of writers for both Disco Elysium and The Final Cut, and it may still be possible to work with a base that the others provided. We have no idea how far into development the sequel may be. Of course, proceeding without three key members of the original team is kind of a kick in the balls, and imo really quite disgusting, especially with how long the company has been keeping their departures secret (dishonesty is not a good look lmao), but it may still be canon, true to the authors' vision, and genuinely a good game in the end.

Argo Tuulik, original Elysium world builder and part of the old ttrpg campaigns, as well as a main writer on Disco Elysium, is still working at za/um. Justin Keenan, former writer on The Final Cut who wrote the political vision quests alongside Helen Hindpere, still works at za/um (and has been promoted to lead writer, according to his LinkedIn), as does Kaspar Tamsalu, who painted several character portraits, (René and Gaston) and worked as a concept artist on the original game. Plenty of the original creatives still remain. The sequel could very well still be in good hands at the development level, even if the higher ups are "crooked".

So, in conclusion... If this game comes out and they still haven't worked things out with Kurvitz, Rostov and Hindpere? Honestly... fuckin' pirate it. But it is very likely it could still be a great game that plays out as it was meant to! All that being said, FUCK za/um as a company, don't support them through Atelier or their merch store. I wish everyone luck if they do attempt to get the IP back, and I sincerely hope this fan pressure will help get things moving for them.

#disco elysium #ada speaks #if anyone would like sources i can supply them #i just didnt want to bog down the post with links just in case it doesnt show in the tag #im leaving out a lot of shit for Reasons but i hate to see people upset because i do genuinely have hope for the future of elysium #but i will vouch for the quality of the sequel myself.#some minor updates as i accidentally stated argo was part of og za/um

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canyousonicme · 1 month

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Doctor Who: Big Finish, Alex Kingston Team for New River Song Stories

Alex Kingston will return as River Song for a new round of Big Finish's Doctor Who audio dramas set AFTER "Silence in the Library."

Now that Steven Moffat is back writing for Doctor Who, fans are speculating about whether River Song will be back. Alex Kingston certainly hasn't made it a secret that she would love to play the character again. But River Song never really went away. She's been headlining a River Song series in audio dramas from Big Finish for years since she had her final story on Doctor Who. Now she will star in The Death and Life of River Song, a brand-new series of full-cast audio dramas coming soon from Big Finish Productions. It's like a whole new season of River Song adventures – and the latest.

In case you didn't know, River Song is an archaeologist from the 52nd century, born and raised to be an assassin, destined to marry her intended target, and to have many of her own adventures too – Professor River Song's very messy timeline began (or maybe ended) when she first appeared in the 2008 Doctor Who TV episode Silence in the Library. Since then, Kingston has reprised the role in her own series of Doctor Who audio spinoffs, including The Diary of River Song, which ran from 2015 to 2023. Now, in August 2024, she will return in a brand-new series, The Death and Life of River Song.

The first box set in the series, Last Words, is written by Robert Valentine. It begins with River, after settling down to an afterlife in the Library's computer core, finding herself waking up in Earth's future, her consciousness having been temporarily transferred to a new body.

Alex Kingston said that River's stories at Big Finish have moved beyond her death in Doctor Who: "We have gone post-Library! We've done another episode in the past where I was within the database, which I loved, and I thought that's the only way you could go forward with River, given her situation. So, I was actually really surprised when this box set came my way and that we are now so far advanced in the history of Earth that she is able to be brought out as data and put into a cloned body. So very, very clever!"

Producer David Richardson added: "When every single day during the recording, your leading actress says "This script is brilliant," you know you're onto a good thing. Even better, at the end of the last day, Alex popped the script in her bag and announced that she loved Last Words so much she was taking it home to keep and treasure."

The Death and Life of River Song: Last Words is now available for pre-order exclusively here, either as a collector's edition four-CD box set for £29.99 or as a digital download for £22.99 per volume. Big Finish listeners can also pre-order a bundle with Last Words as well as Volumes 2 and 3 of The Death and Life of River Song, which are both due for release in 2025, for just £80 (collector's edition CDs + downloads) or £66 (downloads only). [X]

#I'M SCREAMING BECAUSE WHAT DOES LAST WORD MEAN #Alex Kingston #Doctor Who #River Song #Steven Moffat #Big Finish #2024 #I HAVE TRAUMA

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sebsxphia · 1 year

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wedding day.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ description: the moments before bob realizes he’s going to call you his wife, forever.

￫ c/w: swearing and fluff.

￫ a/n: @rhettabbotts shelby, i love you with my whole heart. thank you so much for always discussing the most emotional and depraved thoughts with me. this is for you my sweet angel! <3 my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

“Fuck-”

Bob’s voice was breathless.

“You scrub up nicely.” Bob’s brother chimed in as Bob took in his reflection in the hotel mirror.

His clean cut suit was framed to fit his shoulders perfectly, his trousers straight legged and not a crease in place, the bolo tie was knotted perfectly, but made to look like it still had an air of ‘causal’ to it.

But Bob wasn’t standing in shock at his appearance, no. He was rigid in place because the sight of him in his suit could only mean one thing. He was really about to marry you today.

“Fuck!” Bob exclaimed again, this time his eyes going wide and an unbelieving smile breaking out onto his face. His wide eyes of shock made the tears fall freely over his cheeks, flowing uncontrollably due to the sudden realization that you were finally going to be his wife.

“You good?” Bob’s brother asked him again with a questioning laugh, handing him a tall glass of ice water to cool Bob’s ever drying throat.

“Yeah, yeah, I just- I can’t believe it, I’m gon’ marry them today.”

Bob took a sip of the water and choked slightly when his brother clapped him on his back. “Anyone would be lucky to have you, especially lookin’ that good. Ma’s gon’ loose herself when she sees you.”

“God, don’t remind me.” Bob and his brother broke out into laughter and it eased Bob’s nerves momentarily. Twenty minutes later and he was sat on the edge of the hotel bed, with his knee bouncing so rigorously he thought it would pop from his kneecap. The glass of water had dried up, but Bob’s damp hands gripped onto it as if it was the only thing anchoring him right now.

There was not a single doubt in Bob’s mind that this was the right decision. He had known you were the one for him after your first date, but the anticipation to get to the alter, say your vows and place the ring on your finger so he could finally call you his wife, was killing him. If you’d both had your ways, you would’ve got married at a registry office a year down the line, but you were doing this for your families.

The next hour was no easier than the last and Bob’s pretty sure he blacked out for half of it as he waited at the top of the alter. For eighty minutes of heart palpations, clammy palms and aching muscles, with the opening of the Church doors, all those sensations melted away as Bob laid his eyes on you.

Time stopped completely. The music drowned out from Bob’s ears and his heart came to a lovesick halt. Bob could only focus on you and your radiant smile, with creases in the corners of your eyes, beaming down to him from the length of the Church.

Of course, it didn’t stop the tears from falling. The sight of you in your wedding dress and coming towards him to make yourself his wife, it only caused a flood more tears.

taglist:

@tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @beachbabey @wkndwlff @unmistakablyunknown

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danytherelentless · 7 months

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A Heartfelt Goodbye

Eddard Stark x fem!reader

summary: after his wife's recent passing, Lord Stark is looking for a governess to raise his children

warnings! smut, cunniligus, p in v, pre-marital sex (big deal in Westeros), asoiaf typical sexism (if you squint)

word count: 3k

note: please forgive me if there are any mistakes or it appears a little disjointed, the editing was shaky at best

It was more than a year after the loss of his wife that he decided to take on a governess for his children.

He had refused marriage so soon after, and did not think he would ever take a wife again, and had not wanted to have a governess raise his children for it felt an insult to Cat, yet Maester Luwin had been advising him that his children would need such guidance in their lives, especially with them all being so young, and Eddard had finally relented.

He mulled over the options of Northern ladies for some time before deciding upon you. He'd never met you before, but he had known your father, brothers and some of your cousins. Your father had been one of his greatest and truest advisors during Robert's Rebellion, your elder brother one of his friends as well, and he remembers hearing much of you then, though you'd been younger at the time. Patient, caring and wise as a child. Surely you remained so as an adult? You were also unmarried which meant you had no other obligations nor children of your own to tend to. So he sent the letter to your Lord father asking if you would be suited and able to fill such a position in his household.

He received response soon enough and it was settled upon that you would be arriving to Winterfell within the next few weeks.

Your smile was the first thing he noticed upon meeting you, a kind and gentle thing which warmed him to you almost immediately.

"My Lord," you greeted with a curtsy after you had dismounted to stand next to your father and brother who had led you here.

"My Lady. I am thankful you have taken upon this position."

"It is a great honour, my lord. One I hope I shall be able to fulfil."

Robb was the most reluctant of his children to you, though that was expected and understandable as the eldest. His youngest three, however, were instantly enamoured with you, even baby Bran. But it was Jon which made him realise you were perfect for the role whom you treated well as any of his other children.

It took some time of course for the new dynamic to settle, for you to become comfortable with his children and vise-versa, but eventually, even Robb warmed to you. Even Ned himself found that he enjoyed your company. You had to ability to always make him feel at ease or give him the perfect advice for whatever situation he was put in.

He began to fall for you, which felt inevitable given how lovely you were. But he could not help the vicious guilt which he felt. It felt wrong, no matter how much time passed since Cat's passing, it still felt like a great insult to her memory, and to your own honour, though he never acted on his own feelings.

At least not until Robert called upon him when Balon Greyjoy rebelled against the crown.

He sat in the Godswood, the night before he would leave in contemplation. Many of his bannerman had gathered already at Winterfell with more on their way straight to White Harbour. He did not want to die so soon, though that was something he expected just as he had during Robert's Rebellion when he rode away from Riverrun, yet this time it felt so much closer to him. He couldn't bare the thought of Robb being made Lord so young, of his grief. Of the struggle and strife which he would face and the deceit he would no doubt face in spite of his youth. The idea of his little lady Sansa, or his wild little she-wolf Arya not remembering his face as they grew. Of baby Bram not having so much as a memory of him to place to his name.

He thought of you, of never seeing you again, of never confessing the feelings held within his heart. Though his guilt remained to an extent not as it once had, the idea of never getting to tell you made his heart ache something fierce. It overwhelmed any guilt he was feeling.

"My lord," your voice snapped him from his glum pondering.

"My lady. The hour is quite late, the air cold," he could barely see you in the darkness, the only light emitting from the lantern in your hand and the one sitting near his feet.

"I was worried for you," you confessed.

It was a normal thing to worry about. He was beneath no assumption that you felt the same as he, but he knew that you viewed him as a friend for you often spent hours drinking, exchanging stories and laughing well into late evenings together. So much so that he’d had to quietly had to expel rumours amongst the staff to the best of his ability, hoping you had not heard of them. He knew that it was a sign of the impropriety of your relationship, but he just couldn’t bring himself to stop.

"I'll be back soon enough," he found himself reassuring you.

He watches as you walk closer to him, "may I sit?"

"Of course," he spoke embarrassingly quickly.

You took your seat on the tangled roots at his side, shivering slightly as you burrowed closer into your cloak.

"You really shouldn't be out here, my lady. You may catch a chill," he voiced his concern.

"And neither should you. What sort of a friend would I be if I allowed you to wallow out here all alone?" there was teasing in your voice. He found a smile growing across his face.

He looked to you then. You looked truly beautiful in the low light of the flickering lanterns, shadows cast across your face. You seemed quite sad, though he could see a longing in your eyes has he stared at you.

He felt something get trapped in his throat, unable to say anything as he looked upon you. There was a vulnerability which always clung to you, in the way you smiled so freely, the way you spoke so kindly and could be so forgiving. He saw that in you now. Something raw. He craved it, craved you, craved you near him, in his arms. He felt a stirring in the pit of his stomach.

He craved you, completely and utterly. Entirely vulnerable, bare flesh beneath him, moaning for him. His name, not his title, he loved it when you said his name. Not Eddard, just Ned. He wanted to hear it. Now.

He kissed you instead, a hand on your cheek pulling you close to him. Regret flooded him immediately.

"I'm so sorry," he apologised, pulling away, yanking his hand from your flesh, suddenly feeling quite sick. Barely a moment of your lips on his, so sweet and true. The taste turned to ash on his tongue, however.

"That was dishonourable of me, my lady. Forgive me please. I lost myself."

"No," you grabbed at his forearm and moved closer, you leg leaning into his own, "I... I don't mind."

He looks to you then, a goddess at his side. Meant to be worshipped. It was fitting you were both sat beneath a Weirwood tree.

He feels your delicate hand upon his bearded jaw and he allows you to pull him to you, eyes closing as your lips are joined with his.

He can tell you're inexperienced, but he relishes in it. It has been so long since he'd had any company, and he wanted this. With the thought of possible death so close, he could hardly deny himself you, especially if you wanted him too.

He part from you, breathless, "I want you."

He hadn't quite meant to just blurt it out so bluntly, but can't bring himself to want to take it back. It is his truth, after all. And in this moment, it would be wrong for him to not tell you.

You seem shocked for a moment.

"I want you too," you admitted.

His heart stops for a split second before he crashes his mouth back on yours, your tongues tangling together in some dance.

He kisses you for what feels like hours before he remembers you are out in the cold, and then he guides you back to the keep and to your chambers. The walk is silent and you bump into no one, though guards trail you both outside the keep and through some of the hallways.

He is about to part ways with you and leave for his own when you grab his wrist.

"Wait. Why don't you join me?"

Your cheeks are beautifully flushed, and he can hardly refuse such a welcome invitation, though his honour is screaming at him to stop. His desires simply win over, he is a weak man for you.

He undresses you slowly, pulling away your cloak, helping you unlace your dress as you exchange kisses. You help him with his own layers, and soon you are both bare as the day you were born. He looks upon your beauty, across your smooth skin, your breasts, the mound of hair between your legs. He feels his mouth water. He would turn you around and simply sit gazing upon your naked flesh for hours, studying you like a tome of history.

He lays you down upon furs and kisses down your neck, sucking a bruise some too dark into the flesh which he may regret some the next day should he notice, yet he cannot help himself as he listens to your sweet sighs and feels were hands caressing his arms then his chest.

His lips continue down your body, sucking and licking at your breasts and listening to the melodic sounds you bless him with, hands pawing at your thighs as he further parts them. He kisses down you stomach, beneath your bellybutton and then your naval, before finding his place between your legs, eyes upon your cunt, so close to him and oh so delectable.

"What are you..." your sentence is broken by a surprised and quiet moan as his tongue parts your folds and tastes your sweetness. He licks and sucks at you observing each reaction from his place which he could. Every twitch which you body made and every sound which left your lips. Ned took one of your thighs in his hold and brought it up over his shoulder. His nose is buried in the mount of hair above your cunt as he sucks on that bundle he knows will have you see stars.

You moan and gasp, legs tensing around his head and fingers tugging at his dark hair. He cannot help but groan into you, grinding down into your sheets to attempt to relieve the ache in his cock. He resists the urge to fist his cock in hand by instead pushing a finger inside of you, curling it upwards to feel that spongy spot. You are tight and warm and so so wet. He savors every moment of it.

He curls a second finger inside of you, listening to you high keening whimpers and stretches you wider, and then a third.

"Ned!" your fingers tighten and tug harshly at his hair, and his eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels your body tensing as you climax on his fingers. He licks some of it up before he finds himself too impatient to see your face again. He hopes he will be able to do this again so that he may taste you for longer.

You are worn, face etched with sweet ecstasy. He kisses you with your own taste on his tongue, an action which should disgust you, yet you answer with fervour, a laziness to your motions. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into you, deepening the kiss even further till your tongue is again in his mouth.

One of your arms caresses down his body as your lips part, your eyes hooded, breathing erratic. Your hand trails over his hip before it wraps around his hard cock.

He thrusts forwards as your fist closes around his tip, jerking downwards experimentally. He wraps his own hand over you guiding it up and down as he would his own in the privacy of his own chambers on lonely nights.

He guides himself within your hand to your cunt, nudging it over your nub, toward your sopping hole.

The thought suddenly hit him hard and fast. So suddenly he jerked back slightly from your touch.

"What... what is it?" you looked concerned, eyes wide, braided hair mussed.

"I shouldn't be doing this, it's wrong." It was dishonourable and an insult to such a fine lady as yourself for him to be debasing you so. You weren't married, after all. Not yet, he thought. He could see you at his side as his wife. But you were not his wife now, and you may never be his wife.

"No, no, no! Please, take me," eyes blown wide, cheeks flushed and chest heaving with each breath you take as you tug him down so gently, "if you'll have me?" His chest clenched at such tender words.

With you begging him so sweetly, he could not resist, though there was a part of him still demanding he stop now, for this was wrong. Yet it was drowned by his raging desire which he had harboured for for so long.

He takes his position once more over you, between your thighs, and pushes himself inside of you slowly and carefully. His eyes nearly roll to the back of his skull at feeling such pleasure, and he nearly thrusts into you as a wild man would, but he resists easily enough for he knew it would cause you harm. He listened as you groaned and your face tugged into a discomforted expression, he felt himself stopping then, ready to pull out should you change you mind.

"Just slowly. Be gentle with me, please," your hands grabbed onto his shoulders, you knees farther parting to allow him better access.

He moves his hips so slowly at first, thrusts shallow and experimental, before his lips captured yours in a passionate flurry of movements. You were so warm, so wet. He knew you were most likely a virgin, a lady such as yourself. That thought only made his feel more hungry for you.

His movements continued as a slow and steady pace, before you whined prettily into his mouth and grabbed at his hip.

"You can move more," you spoke, breathless as he parted from you.

He obliged, building up his pace, pulling one of your legs up and around his waist as his thrusts became deeper and faster with each moan that left you mouth.

He could not tear his eyes away from you, from your sweat slick brow, your squeezed shut eyes and 'o' parted lips. He felt his own release build, but wanted you to finish at least once more for him, so he brought one hand between you and felt for you nub and began to rub at it, listening and watching your reaction as to what was best.

You tightened further around him, legs squeezing at his sides as you came for a second time. He could no sooner hold onto himself and buried his face in your neck and lost himself to you, thrusting without abandon as he chased after his own climax.

He came with a low groan, sucking kisses into your neck, filling you with his seed so deeply that for a moment, he prayed it would take, the thought of seeing you with child so tantalising.

He stayed within you for a few moments, perhaps even minutes, catching his breath and listening to yours.

He presses a tender kiss to your brow before pulling his softened cock from you with a wince. He was unable to look away as he sat up and eventually saw some of jus seed dribble out of you. He had to supress a groan.

"I'm sorry," he eventually broke the silence.

"Whatever for?"

He looked back at you, a goddess much to perfect for someone such as himself, worth more than ten of him, "for dishonouring you, my lady. I would have wed you before bedding you, yet I have not."

"I don't expect you to wed me, my lord," you admitted.

"Please don't call me that now. I have no right to any title after the disservice I have given you," for even thinking of getting her with child.

"You haven't. I wanted to be with you, just as much. I hope you don't think any less of me for it."

"No, I do not."

"Then we are simply two friends having a long and heartfelt goodbye," your smile is sad and small, not one of any joy or happiness.

"Is that all you view me as? Your friend?" he found himself speaking before he could stop, pulling on his underclothes.

"No, no. I... I feel for you. In my heart. I..." you paused and he looked at you, "I have come to love you, Ned. For not only the just and honourable Lord which you are, but for the loving father, and kind man. I enjoy the companionship you have offered me in the time which I have known you, and I have desired more of you for some time now."

He found himself dropping his breeches from hand and returning to your bed where you sat looking at him.

"It is fine should you not feel the same--"

"I do," he interrupted, bringing his hand to your cheek, "I love you."

You leaned into him, smile broadening across your face.

"I will wed you upon my return, my lady. I swear it to you."

He kisses you once more, a deep and long kiss filled with his love, before dressing and bidding you goodnight, feeling wrong to leave you after you had shared something so intimate with him.

Despite himself, despite leaving for war and having bedded you, confessed his love and swore to marry you though he may not even live to see you again after tomorrow, he sleeps well and peacefully that night.

He wed you the same day of his return.

comments are looked upon fondly here so don't be a stranger ;)

(please no negativity, my heart can't take it. I am a delicate soul)

#ned stark x reader #ned stark x you #asoiaf x reader #got x reader #got x you #ned stark #eddard stark #got smut #asoiaf smut #smut #house stark #fluff

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

Text

Story Time // J. Todd x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: none!

Summary: Jason became a frequent patron at the local library a few months ago and struck up a friendship with you, a librarian. Things change when you need an assist in a time of need.

A/N: after watching my roommate play all of Gotham Knights as Jason, I have come to appreciate this big himbo appearance of him and I would be the big spoon to him always

“I’m looking for this book. It had a red cover and was about lions, I think?”

Jason had to cover his mouth to silence his laugh at the other library patron’s question. The blank look on your face wasn’t making it any easier. You sighed, almost imperceptibly, and plastered a smile on your face.

“Are you perhaps thinking of elephants? Water for Elephants?”

“Is that the one with the Twilight guy in the movie?”

“Yes, that is Robert Pattinson.”

“Perfect! Thanks.” The patron darted off to the adult fiction section, leaving Jason at the head of the line. A smile, a real smile, spread across your face at the sight of him. Jason had become one of your favorite patrons ever since he came in to get a card three months ago.

“I’m looking for a book,” he teased. “It’s got a purple cover and I saw it once eight years ago.”

“Please don’t,” you groaned as you dragged his stack of books towards you. “They seriously think I can mind read.”

Jason chuckled and leaned against the counter. “Hey, you’re pretty good at figuring out what they ask for so…”

“You’re thinking about the shawarma food truck over on Davidson Avenue.”

He cracked a grin. “Damn, you really are a mind reader. Not my fault that it’s got the best hummus in town.”

“And tzatziki sauce.” You nodded as if he gave you some kind of sage advice. Your nimble fingers swiped the books under the beaming red laser, eliciting a chirp from the computer before you. You paused at the final book at the stick and raised an eyebrow.

“It’s for my brother,” Jason said in explanation. You studied the children’s picture book about different types of birds.

“How old is he?”

“...Twenty-seven.”

You snorted at his answer and scanned it into the system. Pushing the books across the desk towards him, you opened your mouth to ask a question but he waved you off.

“Don’t need it. I’ll have these books back by next week, I guarantee it.”

You winked. “I’ll be holding you too that, Mr. Todd. See you next week.”

He was back precisely seven days later with all the books read and finished, including the picture book that Dick had strangely enjoyed and poured over it with Duke and Cass. Damn, Jason would need to think of a better way to embarrass a man who willingly wore a v-neck spandex suit with a mullet.

You were behind the desk, as per usual, but there was a wide-eyed panicked expression on your face that he hated to see. Jason bypassed the shelves, tossed the books he was returning into the drop off bin, and headed straight towards you.

“Hey, hi, sorry,” you blurted out when you saw him approach. “Our children’s librarian has the flu and one of the main librarians fell on ice and broke her ankle yesterday so it’s just me and Denise and she’s currently trying to get holds ready and-”

“Breathe,” he ordered. His voice came out sharper than normal, much more like his Hood voice, but it did the trick. Your jaw snapped shut and you blinked up at him, surprised that it worked.

“Deep breath in. Hold. Out.” Jason coached you through that once and then flattened his palms against the counter.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered once you were more stable. “We just have a reading event planned today and so many parents RSVP’d. Our library doesn’t get a ton of funding from the city because they think Bowery kids don’t need the same amount of resources as other neighborhoods since these kids aren’t expected to get out of here, but they deserve a fighting chance, y’know?”

You groaned and buried your head in your hands. Your voice was thick with tears and stress and frustration. “I’m going to have to cancel it.” Miserable. You sounded miserable.

“I can read to them,” he said. Jason immediately cursed himself out mentally the second the words tumbled from his mouth, but he couldn’t retract them now. Your head raised from your hands and he caught the spark that lit up in your eyes. It eased the discomfort a bit. Hell, he’d kill to make sure he never saw you panic like that again.

“Oh, can you?” Hope lined your voice right now and he shrugged.

“Sure. I used to read to my little brother.” He wouldn’t mention it was because Damian was incredibly docile thanks to being on heavy duty pain meds and the book in question was The Art of War.

You bounced away from the desk and rounded it, appearing at his side with a bright grin on your face. Your smaller hand enfolded itself around his and he almost choked on the warm, soft touch of your skin. Jason didn’t have time to pull himself together before you were tugging him towards the brightly painted children’s section.

Ratty bean bags and threadbare rugs dotted the floor. Jason understood what you mean by lack of funding. He made a note to guilt Bruce into donating a few thousand to this library and the local schools.

You ushered him over to a small plastic chair seated at the front of the room. “Okay, the reading doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, but I figured you could take that time to get familiar with the books. We have The Colors of Us, A Boy Like You, and King for a Day. Oh, shit, shoot.”

You cast a glance nervously over your shoulder at the two kids sitting quietly with books in hand over by the window. Jason repressed a snort of laughter and you rolled your eyes.

“Listen, I focus primarily on the adult books. I’m not a children’s librarian.” Despite your protest, you chuckled at your slip up. “We also have a book in Spanish, because we have a large bilingual community and Mary wants to include as many kids as she can. Next month we’ll have someone who speaks Korean, and then the month after that it’s Bengali, but-”

“Breathe,” he ordered again. You inhaled deeply to match his pattern and then slowly exhaled, a small smile flitting across your face.

“I speak Spanish,” he assured you. Jason picked up the book from the small pile and studied it for a second. “La Llama Llama Rojo Pijama. Yeah, I can easily read this.”

God, you were practically beaming. You bounced on your toes and then leaned forward, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “Thank you so much, Jason! You’re a lifesaver.”

Well, hell, that might be the first time he’s been called that.

Kids began to stream in with fifteen minutes to go. Exhausted parents looked positively grateful for an opportunity to explore the library and take some time for themselves as a small army of thirty or so elementary schoolers settled on the worn seating around Jason. They stared up at him expectantly and Jason Todd, someone who had faced down the likes of Killer Croc and Bane before was sweating bullets under the scrutiny of these little terrors.

But then he glanced up and saw you standing at the edge of the bookshelves to the kids area, a cart of books pressed against your hip as you stocked the shelves, and he suddenly felt at peace.

“Alright, kids, my name is Mr. Jason and today we’re starting off with A Boy Like You. Which, hey, it’s good you’re all learning about how fu- messed up toxic masculinity is at this age. Lemme tell you, that sh- stuff will control your life.” He propped the book open on his knees, ensuring that it mainly faced the crowd. “Can we all see the pictures? Are we good?”

The crowd of heads nodded and he dove into the story.

Jason liked it a lot more than he thought he would. He raised his voice when the books crested into exciting moments and he lowered his voice into a deep bass when dramatic moments occurred. The kids squealed and shrieked as he used funny voices along with animal characters. By the time he finished the final book, a smile had found its way on his scarred face.

“Alright, time to go,” one mother announced. She and her wife thanked Jason, but their son bounded right up to him and wrapped his little arms around the vigilante’s legs. Jason froze for a moment before he leaned down to pat him on the back and then direct him towards his moms.

“Thanks, Mr. Jason!” the little boy exclaimed. As the kids all darted away to tell their parents about the books, you sidled up next to Jason.

“I can’t thank you enough. Seriously,” you gushed. “And you were so good at it!”

He shrugged, heat rising to his cheeks at your praise. “It was nothing.”

“Please,” you brushed off his humility. “Let me buy you a drink after my shift as a thanks.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you buy me a drink,” he said quickly and immediately regretted it once he saw your face fall. “I mean, we can get drinks, but Alfred would kill me if he knew I didn’t pay for your drink.”

“Alfred?”

Jason chuckled and ran a hand down his face. Truly, you might be the only person in Gotham who didn’t know who he was.

“What time do you get off work?” Changing the topic was the safe idea for right now. He could explain later.

“In about four hours. I’d hate to make you wait so long. I can just meet you later or-”

Jason nudged you and jerked his chin towards the circulation desk. “Got more books to shelve? I think I know the layout of this place well enough to help.”

You lit up. “Yeah! Let me show you how it works…”

He had a feeling he would be seeing you more than once a week.

Tag List: @khaetiin @mcrmarvelloki @gone-batty-fics @someoneimsure @perpetual-fangirl900 @visagebrise @cursedandromedablack @alexxavicry @havingarebelliousstage @the-wayward-daughter @raging-trash-of-mind @kat-nee @khaylin27

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood fluff

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bobbie-robron · 6 months

Text

Aaron… this surrogacy stuff… it, it won’t come cheap. Just go with me on this.

Mini set

22-Nov-2018

#robron #robert sugden #aaron dingle #final appearance for november in that year #next time they appeared in a scene TOGETHER was the christmas episode #people died robert #don’t mess it up #fact-finding mission #aaron allowing robert to carry on with nicola on the con #20181122 #robron episodes 2018

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seiya-starsniper · 11 months

Note

For the angst prompt list: “I’m sorry, have we met?”

Oh I absolutely ADORE this particular prompt, I'm so glad you've picked it. I'd previously done a fill for it [here], but this one's an entirely different premise all on its own, I hope you enjoy it!

angst prompts list

cw: memory loss -----

The man standing across the bar is dangerous.

Rob’s gained an appreciation for dangerous creatures, ever since he woke up in the middle of what was effectively the aftermath of a bloodbath, with no memory of who he was or how he got there. All he knew was that something bad had happened, and somehow, he’d survived it.

He’d fled London shortly after, when he’d discovered that while he didn’t know who he was, it seemed other more powerful and dangerous creatures did. Rob realized fairly quickly that if he had any hope of living a normal life, leaving the continent was probably the best course of action. He’d barely had time to investigate the life he’d had beforehand, only knowing that his captors had tracked him down under the name Robert Goldsmith.

That had been over 20 years ago. Rob hasn’t aged a day since then, and he’s also unfortunately never been able to fully shake attracting the supernatural. There’s something about him, the demons and the fae and the vampires tell him. Something old, something covetous. Rob knew he was older than he looked, he could feel his age in his bones, and one too many close calls with death all but proved he was some sort of immortal.

And now he’s caught the scent of something even older than him. The man (no, he’s not a man, he only wears the skin of a man) is stunningly beautiful, with wild dark hair and eyes bluer than the sky. If Rob didn’t know any better, he’d swear the man was an elf or some other type of fae, but no. He’s older than that. More powerful than that.

An angel, perhaps? He’s certainly beautiful enough to be one. Rob’s only heard rumors of their existence, but he’s also heard looking upon them would burn your eyeballs right out of their sockets. He tries not to appear wary and guarded as the creature locks eyes with him, but he can’t help but let out a small gasp, heart thundering in his chest, as the man-shaped being begins to approach his table.

“Hob Gadling,” the creature addresses him. “I have been searching for you.”

The declaration hit Rob like a hammer to the face. Something inside him is howling, yes, that is me, I am Hob, and it’s almost as terrifying a feeling as when he first woke up in that bloodied basement, his memories wiped clean from his mind. Somehow this creature knows him, not in the way the others have known of him, but actually knows who he was before his memories were stolen.

“I’m sorry,” Rob (no, not Rob, he is Hob) says, trying hard to keep his voice as light as possible, even as he feels his entire world shift sideways. “Have we met before?”

The creature rears back as if Hob had slapped him across the face. His pained expression grips something in Hob’s heart, something old, something achingly familiar. Hob knows then, in this exact moment, that this creature is something precious to him. A companion. A friend. His heart yearns to reach out this beautiful being, to touch, to hold, anything to reassure him that finally, he is no longer alone in this world.

But then the man’s eyes narrow, pain now replaced by unmistakable fury, and it is Hob who rears back now, a deep seated fear he knows but does not remember rising to the surface.

“A memory demon has taken your mind,” the man growls, his voice suddenly octaves deeper than it had been when he had first greeted Hob. He stands suddenly, and moves to leave the bar.

Absolute terror grips Hob then, and he shouts, “Wait, don’t leave!” before getting up himself to chase the man.

The stranger (his Stranger?) is fast, but Hob manages to catch him just outside the door. He grips the other man’s arm tightly, hoping and praying that somehow he won’t disappear in a puff of smoke.

“Please don’t leave me again,” Hob begs. Again? Hob thinks to himself. Has the stranger left him before?

The man’s expression softens instantly.

“Had my hubris not gotten the better of me,” the Stranger says, all righteous fury gone from his voice, “I would not have allowed this to happen. My imprisonment has taken far more from me than I ever feared.”

Imprisonment?

“You were captured?” Hob breathes, shocked.

“I was,” the Stranger replies. “I did not miss our appointment in 1989 intentionally.”

“I wish I knew what you were talking about,” Hob says, practically in hysterics. “Will you tell me? Everything I’m missing? I…I haven’t been back to London since…”

“I had planned,” the Stranger interrupts him, “to seek the demon who stole your mind.”

“I’ve been without my memories for 20 years now,” Hob replies. “I can go on for a few more days. Just. Stay. Please.”

Something in his tone must appeal to the Stranger, because he sighs and then nods his agreement.

“Have you a place where we may speak in private?” he asks, and Hob nods.

“Not too far of a walk from here,” Hob replies, before he realizes he still has a death grip on the Stranger’s arm. He releases it, slowly, still not totally convinced the other won’t disappear if he lets go. When he does not, Hob jerks his head in the direction of his apartment, and then they begin to walk.

“I guess we could start with names then?” Hob asks. “You, uh, you seemed to know mine. My true name anyways. I’m sorry that I’ve forgotten yours.”

The stranger huffs, and shakes his head, as if recalling a particularly humorous memory. Hob wonders if he’ll hear what it is in their talk tonight.

“My name,” the man says, voice lowered to almost a purr, “is Dream.”

#dreamling #dream x hob #the sandman #sandman fanfiction #seiya writes #seiya drabbles #this was so much fun to write #thanks for the request! <3 #seiya writes dreamling

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ladykailitha · 8 months

Text

Well Met By Moonlight Part 5

Hi guys, I want to thank everyone who commented on the most recent Royal Pain and all the people that commented on the Midsummer's AU. I saw some that I hadn't seen comment in awhile and it made me so happy to see them back. I missed you all.

Here we have more of Wayne being badass. I know it feels like he's the main character right now, but trust me it will shift to the younger members soon enough.

And I got the chapter two to work finally, so I will be linking to the original from now on.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

***

Sun down on the following Saturday saw Wayne Munson in front of the whole town. Businesses closed. Only the hospital, fire and police station remained opened and they only had the most basic of crews.

Behind him on his left were Steve and Nancy and on his right were Billy and his bride, Heather. In front of him were the five boys that had attacked Steve.

Mayor Roberts stood between the two sets holding a microphone, he too was flanked. Sheriff Danny Powell stood on his right and Jim Hopper stood on his left.

“Welcome everyone. It is a sad day in Hawkins when we have to meet like this. I know it is hard on the lives and livelihoods of the people of this fair town. But a sickness has come to this town. The mindset of those not like being othered, seen as monsters and demons.”

The crowd murmured and hummed.

“But this town was not founded on those ideals. It was founded on peace and brotherhood between all its people. The humans, the vampires, and the werewolves. For nearly one hundred and fifty years this town has stood as testament to kinship that it has fostered. Which is why it is with much trepidation I have made the decision to let Sheriff Daniel Powell go as police chief of our fair town.”

The murmurs became more angry and sharp.

“He was told by several members of this community that these five boys before me were up to no good. That they would cause harm. Vampires and werewolves alike came to your sheriff with concerns and he waved them away. Regular people such as yourselves came to him that these boys meant serious harm to the supernatural members–nay to your neighbors and still he waved them away. Is that the type of man you want to protect and defend your town?”

Sheriff Powell looked down in shame as the crowd let out small cries of distress. Because no, that wasn’t what the town wanted. Most of them had thought him a good man. But this cast doubt on that very image. If he would turn a blind eye to a threat to a supernatural person, would he do the same to a black man or woman of ill repute, just because he didn’t care for their kind?

“Jim Hopper has graciously offered his assistance in stepping back into his old position of police chief. He will hold it until it is time to elect a new sheriff and with hope he will run then, as well.”

Hopper smiled and shook his head. “We’ll see,” he growled.

Mayor Roberts smiled back. “I will now turn the time over to Wayne Munson.”

Powell moved off to the one side and Mayor Roberts and Chief Hopper moved to the other. Wayne stepped up and an eerie silence descended on the crowd.

“It appears I’ve been too soft on this town,” Wayne growled, his voice reaching every corner of the town hall without the aid of the microphone. “Hunters think they can just come into my town, my territory and hunt people like a pack of feral dogs.”

The boys were forced to kneel in front of the crowd. Their hands were tied behind their backs and they bowed their heads.

“These are the children you raised,” Wayne told the crowd. He picked up something from the table next to him and held it up. “A foot trap made of silver. Considered inhumane to animals used to trap a nineteen year old boy, not much older than themselves. Yes, Steven Harrington is no average boy, but he is young nonetheless.”

He threw a few feet in front of the crowd, it clanging noisily to ground, the people in the front leaping back. He picked up the shattered pieces of the cross they had nailed Steve to.

“They bound him in silver to a wooden cross!” Wayne snarled. He threw the pieces after the trap.

The whole crowd gasped in horror as the pieces clattered to the floor. He picked up the final object off the table and held it above his head.

It was a metal bat. Not silver, but deadly all the same. The tip was rust red. Wayne threw to the ground as he had done the others. “They were beating him with this.”

“These are your children!” he growled. “Have I not been good to you? Have I not been kind?”

There were murmurs among the crowd.

“You have forgotten you are are under my protection!” Wayne roared. “Without me the pack and coven would have free rein of the town, like the roving gangs of old. You are fortunate that the current alpha and Dominus are generous. Do you not recall the terror that ruled under alpha Jack Sullivan before I tore his pack to pieces? Do you not remember the children that were be experimented on under the Dominus Dr Martin Brenner? Before Billy Hargrove came and cleaned out the lab and the coven that reeked of death?”

The crowd was stock still. Pin dropping would sound like thunder in that hall.

“Five years for Brenner,” he continued. “Ten years for Sullivan. Mere drops in the bucket of time for someone as old as myself, but to you? Far too long. That they were able to hide from me their ills for as long as they did, was an abomination. But they were summarily dispatched when I did find out.”

The crowd became restless.

“So I have passed judgment upon these youths,” Wayne said. “The two younger boys, Joshua Bentley and Chance Nelson will learn the ways of the pack and of the coven. Spending six weeks with each sect to unlearn the hate you taught them.”

The crowd let out a sigh of relief. That was good punishment for the two boys.

“Andy Duncan will be tried as a child,” he continued. “For criminal mischief and conspiracy to commit assault. It is likely that he will be forced to spend his time at a youth facility where he will remain until he turns eighteen. Then it will be up to the courts to move him to an adult facility or release him.”

The crowd took up the murmuring again as this was a little more harsh then the other boys, but still lenient.

Wayne grabbed Jason and Patrick by their collars and hauled them bodily to their feet.

“As for these two boys,” he snarled, “the mayor wants to try them as adults for use of an illegal trap,” the boys rolled their eyes, “assault with a deadly weapon,” Patrick gulped, but Jason was still smug, “conspiracy to commit murder,” Jason was mentally counting the number of years he would get and tilted his head like it was acceptable while Patrick turned white, “and for attempted murder.”

Jason looked shocked for the first time, he didn’t think they would go for the attempted murder charge, he had been told by his lawyer that it was unlikely because of how young they were. “And because of the laws of this town are unique, they will also be tried for supernatural hunting. A crime punishable by death.”

Patrick fainted and Jason threw up. Josh who had been sitting nearby, leapt out of the way of the vomit.

“But I am merciful,” Wayne continued, slowly lowering the unconscious Patrick to the ground. “They will spend time with me for six months and then I will make my own recommendations to the judge on the charges to proceed with.”

That was when Jason fainted, right into the pile of his own sick.

The crowd’s relief was palpable. Everyone was murmuring with agreement and elation.

“Let this be a lesson to you all,” Wayne concluded. “I am merciful, but test me one more time and you too will face my wrath.”

“Go!” he barked and everyone in the hall turned and fled.

All that was remaining was the mayor, Sheriff Powell and the six supernatural beings.

“Will you being staying in our town?” Wayne asked Powell.

Powell shook his head. “No. I got a job lined up in Chicago. I wasn’t meant for small town politics. I put my own prejudices ahead of the lives of the citizens of this town.”

“You still gonna be a copper?” Hopper asked.

Again he shook his head. “No, I can’t risk making the same mistake in a bigger town. I’m going to teach self-defense.”

They all nodded.

Mayor Roberts patted Powell’s arm. “You’re a good man who made a bad decision, don’t let this moment define the rest of your life.”

Powell nodded. He gave the mayor’s shoulder a squeeze and walked away.

“There goes a deeply troubled man,” Nancy said. “Do you think he’ll be all right?” She hugged her sides.

“Chicago is the best place for him to find that out,” Billy said. “It will either consume you or learn enough about yourself to survive.”

Steve put his arm around her and she leaned into his comfort.

“I hope the town can heal from this,” Mayor Roberts said. “There has been so much pain and hurt in this town in the last decade. I’m not sure how much more it can take.”

Wayne shook his head. “This town survived two world wars and a Great Depression, it will survive this.”

Mayor Roberts smiled sadly. “It is good to have such a long perspective, my friend.” He squeezed Wayne’s shoulder and slipped away, leaving behind the three vampires and three werewolves.

Hopper scratched the back of his head, sheepishly. It was strange look on the werewolf. “I’ve never been police chief and not the alpha before.”

“I prefer it,” Billy said with a low growl. “It means the werewolves are a little more even in terms of power in this town.”

Steve nodded. “I agree. It’s better this way. The sheriff needs to be supernatural in the way that the mayor must be human. A vampire sheriff would be weak during the day and even having a thrall as deputy would divide the power in a way that would make them weak. But a werewolf being sheriff ensures that everyone has a say.”

Wayne nodded back.

“Thank you for coming out, Steve,” he said, “I know this wasn’t easy for you, reliving your trauma.”

Steve scoffed. “If I didn’t, I would look weak and open myself and the pack to further attacks. Not just from the anti-supernatural quarter either. Other packs would think us easy prey. Vampires would attack us to feed on.” He glanced over at Billy and Heather and sneered. “I don’t have the favor of the current Dominus, not like our previous one did.”

Hopper looked down at his feet.

Billy smirked. “Come on, Heather,” he drawled. “Let’s go, babe.”

Heather simpered. “Anything you want.”

Billy licked his lips slowly. “Promise?”

She giggled and they walked out, with his arm around her waist as he whispered dirty things to each other.

Wayne watched them with a shake of his head. There were some disadvantages to having such a young Dominus. With a sigh he turned back to the werewolves.

“Thanks for doing this, Jim,” Wayne said, patting his back. “I know it’s not easy to come back this job, especially since you were hoping to spend more time with Jane.”

Hopper sighed. “I just hate that I have to step up in this way.”

Steve kissed the top of Nancy’s head. “Let Hop take you home, I still have some things to go over with Wayne.”

Nancy nodded and slipped out from under his arm.

Steve and Wayne watched them go.

“I was always surprised you made her alpha female,” Wayne said thoughtfully. “Not after what happened between you.”

Steve hummed. “I didn’t have a lot of options. It was either Joyce or her and I didn’t trust Joyce.”

Wayne nodded. “Who would have you picked if you had your choice?”

Steve smiled fondly. “Robin hands down, but right now she more valuable to me as a keeper then alpha female.”

“You really do have a good head on your shoulders, Steve,” he said, his smile crinkling his eyes. “Now, go reassure my boy that kiss on Nancy’s head was friendly, eh?”

Steve frowned. Wayne pointed to the back of the hall where a solitary figure waited.

Steve shook his head. “Has he always been the jealous type?”

Wayne laughed. “No, just when it comes to you.”

Steve hopped down from the stage and strolled over to Eddie. He wrapped his arms around the other boy and kissed him deeply.

“Oh,” Eddie said with a blush.

“Yeah,” Steve murmured. “Only you, okay?”

Eddie nodded.

“Come on, sunshine,” Steve said, his voice low and gravely, “I’m going to spend all night showing you how much I’m only yours.”

“Point me in the right direction, big boy.”

The two went off, not as giggly and overt as Billy and Heather, but just as heated, and definitely more in love.

Wayne looked up at the ceiling. “If there is a god, watch over those two, please. They are going to need it.”

***

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #werewolf steve harrington #vampire eddie munson #ladykailtiha writes

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cantsayidont · 6 months

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October 1966. You can't keep a dead butler down. About two years after killing off Alfred the butler in 1964, editor Julius Schwartz was faced with a problem: William Dozier, the producer of the forthcoming Batman TV show, wanted to include Alfred in the show, and wanted him reintroduced into the comics as well! Schwartz and writer Gardner Fox struggled with this challenge and finally came up with the utterly preposterous story presented in the issue above.

Even for a Silver Age Gardner Fox comic book, this story is exceptionally convoluted, so it's best considered chronologically. We begin with a flashback sequence involving iconoclastic "all-around scientific genius" Brandon "Plot Device" Crawford:

This is already straining credulity a little because the story in DETECTIVE COMICS #328 in which Alfred died (helpfully recapped elsewhere in this issue) showed that he had been crushed to death by a giant boulder. That did not seem survivable at all, and even if it were, this would imply that neither Batman and Robin nor whatever doctor who filled out Alfred's death certificate nor the mortician noticed that he wasn't actually dead! Anyway …

So, Alfred wasn't actually dead, he wasn't embalmed, and he was buried in a refrigerated coffin (that's what the purple cylinders in the last panel previous page were for). A stretch, but we'll allow it. However, upon discovering this, Crawford, instead of calling an ambulance like a normal person, seizes on the opportunity to do some Frankenstein shit with Alfred's maimed, broken, mostly dead body, as one does (if one is a reclusive "radical individualist" who dropped out of college to pursue unorthodox, dubiously ethical scientific experiments, I guess).

One of the initial objects of Schwartz's tenure had been to rid the Batman books of the fantastical aliens, monsters, and bizarre transformations of the 1957–1963 period in favor of something a little more grounded. All that goes out the window here, despite the rather defensive editorial footnote, which says:

EDITOR'S NOTE: Physics professor Robert Ettinger, author of "The Prospect of Immortality," has said that death can only be defined in relative terms. He points to the hundreds of persons revived after drowning, asphyxiation, electrocution, and heart attack. "Biological death depends not only on the state of the body," Ettinger says, "but also on the state of medical art!"

Okay, then. On to the Frankenstein shit:

So, Crawford's experimental cell regeneration machine has restored Alfred's broken body, but in the process transformed him into an unrecognizable, rather hideous-looking being who is also evil. Check! The regeneration effect we see Crawford panicking about then transforms him so that he looks like Alfred, while leaving him in "a catatonic trance." The Outsider, rather ungratefully, puts Crawford's unconscious body back in Alfred's coffin to cover his tracks, and uses Crawford's various machines and his own "increased mental power" in his new quest to destroy Batman and Robin.

This was not the first appearance of the Outsider, who had actually been hounding the Dynamic Duo on and off since DETECTIVE COMICS #334 two years earlier, although he had never appeared on-panel, and his identity had been a mystery. Where Schwartz originally intended to take that plotline is not clear (Schwartz's own account doesn't say, and Gardner Fox said later that he didn't think Schwartz had a solution in mind at the outset), but it doesn't seem likely that revealing the Outsider as Alfred was the plan, particularly since subsequent Outsider stories had shown that the villain had superhuman powers, including the ability to bring inanimate objects to life! In this story, the Outsider really does transform Robin into a wooden coffin, as the cover indicates — it's not a hypnotic illusion or some other such dodge. Fortunately, the effect is reversed after the villain is defeated:

Batman's determination to keep these events secret from Alfred is bizarre, since Alfred's death is a matter of public record: As seen in DETECTIVE COMICS #328, Bruce Wayne started a charitable foundation in Alfred's name, with its own building in Gotham City! Batman suggests that they can rename the charity the Wayne Foundation (as of course they subsequently did), but how he expects to resolve the various problems created by Alfred having been legally dead for months without his finding out is unclear. They do take the time to retrieve Crawford (who has miraculously not suffocated or starved to death in Alfred's coffin) and use his machine to return him to normal, after which Batman suggests that Bruce Wayne will give Crawford a job at the renamed foundation.

If you're wondering, "Wait, does this mean Alfred now had super-powers?" the answer is yes! Since he didn't retain any conscious memory of his death and resurrection, he was normally unaware of this, but Alfred's evil Outsider personality resurfaced several times, and he sometimes spontaneously reverted to the Outsider's form, in which he once again had supernatural abilities:

Notice the background, with the buildings burning like candles? The Outsider did that with his mental powers, along with a bunch of less grandiose but equally impossible feats. Fortunately, they reverted to normal after he split into separate good (Alfred) and evil (Outsider) selves and defeated himself. The Outsider resurfaced once more in 1985, battling the Outsiders and nearly killing Superman by transforming the Batcave's giant penny into Green Kryptonite.

I guess this whole saga did resolve the problem of resurrecting Alfred for the TV show, but in what I think can fairly be called the most ludicrous way possible. (And you thought the PENNYWORTH show spun out of GOTHAM was silly …)

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anon-sect · 3 months

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Robert had needed $5000 to pay for the repairs on his car, but didn't have it. He really needed his car repaired, and was tired of bumming rides or asking for friends to constantly pick him up and take him places. He saw an online advertisement for financial assistance guaranteed. He called the number and spoke with a guy named Genie. He thought it was a weird name, but he needed the help. The following morning, he took a cab to Genie's office to receive financial aid to his situation.

Robert saw that Genie was a tall 6'2" tall athletic guy with a strong muscular body. He shook his hand and explained how much he needed and what he needed it for.

"I can definitely grant you financial aid." Genie spoke as he snapped his fingers. Instantly a piece of paper appeared before him. He slid the paper over to Robert. "Where you see an X, just initial it and sign at the bottom." He pointed at certain areas on the paper.

Robert read a few lines and initial where he was supposed to. He looked down at the fine print and read it. There was a line that needed a name on it. "What am I suppose to write here?" He asked.

"Oh yes, I need you to write in a friend's name there. It's sort of a trade off for granting financial aid. The money is all yours to do with as you please, but I must have a friend's name, someone you know well." Genie paused for a moment with a serious look on his face. "The paper will know if you are lying to me. I need a real friend's name there." He added.

Robert needed the money badly. He wrote in his best friend's name. Genie snapped his fingers and the paper vanished. "Your money will be in your bank account in the morning. Also, the deal here is finalized, there is no changing it." Genie told him as he escorted him out of his office.

Robert wondered what he meant by finalized. In any way, he wasn't going to worry about it. He would have his money in the bank in the morning and his car would be fixed.

Will suddenly felt strange. He thought he was at work, but now found himself in another place. Also that he was unable to move. He heard a voice approach him. "Will, I assume. Your friend Robert made a deal with me to receive financial aide from me in exchange of giving me one of his friends for me to own for their rest of their life." The voice paused as he felt himself being picked up. "You do make a nice pair of socks. I think I should test you out at the gym today. That would be a good way to break you in." The voice added. Will screamed, but no sound came out. The thought that he was a pair of socks sicked him. He thought he was dreaming till he felt a foot enter his body and to endure it a second time. The wiggling of toes confirmed what the voice told him, he was literally a pair of socks. At least the feet hadn't smelled bad yet.

Genie like the way the socks felt. He put on his gym clothes and picked out his favorite pair of shoes to wear.

Genie had bought the shoes at least three years ago and has worn them to just about every workout session at the gym. To break in his new socks, he thought no better time like the present. The current insoles were actually two former humans who were sold away for those who wanted his special services. He sniffed them and saw the shoes smelled ripe. The thought of being trapped in that was something he would not want to experience, but his insoles had been in their for the past two years. Their minds are probably so warped by now. They probably couldn't think straight. Their friends actually tried to bargain to get them back, but his magic was a final deal. Once the wish is granted, their friends belong to him forever. At least they got their wishes granted without having to pay it back. Genie put in his sneakers and went for a walk to the gym, which was only two blocks away from his place.

Will thought being worn on feet was the worse it could get, but he found he was so wrong. Being crushed under foot with each step increased his torment. Next came being shoved against his will inside a smelly prison that is a pair of sneakers. He could tell the sneakers were well used over several years. The owner's foot stench was everywhere. He was trapped in it. He mentally screamed for the guy to let him go, but his thoughts fell on deaf ears.

By the time Genie reached the gym, he felt his socks were slightly soaked in foot sweat. He almost felt bad for the guy, especially since his friend unknowingly sold him off to pay some debt. He decided he would start on the treadmill first before going to the weights. A nice jog would feel good and get the blood pumping.

Will want death so badly. Tasting his owner's sweat was horrible. He now felt his sock bodies saturated with the stench and sweat of the guy's feet. He could tell what the guy was doing next by the motion of the feet he was trapped on. The constant crushing increased in motion. He was jogging. The torture felt never ending.

Genie eventually returned home after the gym. His feet felt amazing. The new socks were working out greatly. He decided that the guy would be his permanent workout socks. Every workout session and gym session, he would wear him from now on. He didn't feel bad for the loser since his friend sold him away so easily.

The following day, Genie saw he had a missed call Robert. He had a feeling why he called him, but he wanted to confirm his suspensions. So he called back.

"Are you satisfied? Did the money request come in handy." Genie asked him, smiling slightly as he wiggled his toes in his socks. He was still wearing the poor guy on his feet since yesterday. He was just too comfortable to take off just yet.

"The money helped out fine. My car is in the shop being worked on. But I tried calling my friend Will and couldn't reach him, nor was he at home or work." Robert paused as he remembered writing Will's name on the bottom of the paper. "I was just curious if his disappearance has anything to do with that fine print." He added. He heard Genie laughing on the phone.

"You remember seeing on the contract that the money was yours and you didn't have to pay it back?" He asked after he finished laughing while knowing his socks would not like to hear this conversation.

"Yes, I thought it was strange, but was glad I don't have to pay it back. What does this have to do with Will?" He asked, hoping he was thinking the reason why his close friend was missing.

"That's the reason why you don't have to pay me back. You basically sold your friend to me in exchange for granting your wish. Will belongs to me now, forever." He spoke to an upset Robert.

"Where is my friend? I want him back now!" Robert screamed over the phone, highly upset over what he mistakenly done without realizing it. "What have you done with him?" He added more. He didn't realize that granting his wish would mean selling off a friend to be a slave to some guy.

"Don't worry, he isn't dead. In fact he will live a very long time." Genie pause to create a dramatic effect for his next words. "As my socks to wear as often as I want. Actually, I have been currently wearing him since yesterday. He really is a comfortable pair of socks." He laughed as he heard Robert cursing and screaming at him over the phone.

Robert calmed down. "Please, give him back." He pleaded as he was so sorry for what he did to Will. He would have never signed the contract or his name if he knew this was the consequences of granting his wish."Please, let me have him back. I will repay the money if that is the only way." He added with remorse in his voice. Yet again he only heard a taunting laughter.

"My magic wish granting contracts are final. Once signed, whoever you trade for the wish to be granted belongs to me, and I never let go of my new possessions." Genie paused. "I will take good care of him as he takes good care of my feet. Have a nice day." He spoke and hung up on him. There was no going back. He sold Will to him, and he wasn't getting him back. "You are my socks forever thanks to your friend, Will. Enjoy my feet for the rest of your life." He laughed as he relaxed in his socks, not caring how Will felt. He was just socks now.

#foot domination #inanimate transformation #sock transformation

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