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dduane · 1 year

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Hello.

I've seen you posting detailed information about the WGA strike and wondered if you had any suggestions as to how those of us not directly involved can show our support for the Union?

Okay, bearing in mind that all this is entirely subjective at the moment (and so far lacking any more useful input from other sources): a few thoughts.

This will be my third WGA strike. (My first one was in 1988, just after I'd made my first live action sale—s1e6 of ST:TNG). And the thought keeps occurring to me at the moment that this time out, there's a potentially gamechanging player on the field that wasn't there before: truly pervasive social media.

(Adding a cut here, because this goes on a bit...)

In 2007, social media as we now understand it was still in its cradle. Now, though, those of us who're striking can make our voices much more widely heard. And so can those of us who're not, but just want to show solidarity. Last time, the AMPTP was able to do pretty much what it wanted without the public noticing or having even a medium-profile way to make their feelings known. But this time? Not so much.

So as an otherwise uninvolved person who wants to show solidarity, I'd start with something seemingly low-value. If I was on Twitter, I'd start routinely tweeting about the strike and my support for it—not obsessively, just persistently, a couple/few times a week—using the Twitter hashtags that are gaining ground even now, such as #DoTheWriteThing (and of course #WGAStrike). I would make sure I was following @WGAEast and @WGAWest, to keep an eye on what's going on.

Additionally: I would start politely, but repeatedly—again, maybe once or twice a week at least, and not stopping—tweeting the various major players in the AMPTP, especially the streamers: Amazon, Netflix, Hulu et al. I would start suggesting that their current attitude toward the WGA's contract negotiations is not only unrealistic but potentially (for the AMPTP) bad for business. (And self-destructive, too, as if this goes on much longer in this vein, they'll be seemingly eagerly casting themselves as The Baddies.) I would suggest that their bad behavior, if not amended by them coming to the table to bargain in good faith, might start affecting both my interest in their shows and my willingness to keep paying unreasonable people for access to them.

I should emphasize here that so far there've been no formal calls from anyone for boycotts or subscription cancellations. For the moment, this strikes me as wise. The point for WGA-friendly observers, right now, would be to keep what's happening to the writers visible: to keep bringing it up: to refuse to allow it to be swept under the rug. The "They only want two cents on the dollar!" angle seems potentially useful the more it's repeated. The point is to keep the repetition going: to make it plain, day after day, that the other side's being not just unreasonable, but greedy. Day after day, and week after week, and (if necessary: please Thoth may it not be...) month after month.

And tweeting is hardly all that can be done. Email is cheap and easy. But actual letters, written on actual paper and mailed, can still create a surprising amount of attention in a corporate office. (The saying in TV used to be that for every person who actually writes in about an issue, there are ten, or a hundred, who feel the same way but never got around to it.) Write letters to all the AMPTP members' CEOs, and make your feelings on the WGA's core demands politely plain. ...Especially when those CEOs collectively made almost three-quarters of a billion-with-a-B dollars in salaries last year, when many of the writers working on their shows can't afford rent.

After that: here's another thought, a little more physical. If by chance you're in an area where one or the other of the Guilds are picketing: turn out and support them! Honk when you pass: and if you're interested, show up and offer to walk the picket lines with them. These things get noticed. (In 2007 a bunch of us, both Guild members and non-, caused significant astonishment by turning out to picket AMPTP members' offices in Dublin.)

...Obviously not all that many people are going to be positioned, in terms of location or their own work and time commitments, to show up physically. But online? Find ways to keep this issue visible. The AMPTP wants this to go quiet, wants people to get bored with it, wants people to find reasons to blame the writers. They've tried spinning the story that way before. Don't let them pull that shit. Find ways to back those who're calling them on that, publicly. They do respond to this kind of thing (though they may strenuously deny it). If enough attention continues to be paid by the general public, they will blink—if sometimes excruciatingly slowly, as Disney began to blink over the dispute tagged #DisneyMustPay.

As viewers, and as viewers who pay for subscriptions to things, we far outnumber them. Help be a part of making the AMPTP understand that this quest for a truly fair deal is not going to go away. And the longer they try to act like the Guild's negotiation positions are beneath their notice, the more it's going to hurt them, and the stupider and greedier it's going to make them look.

...That's all I've got for the moment, as I need some lunch. :) ...But I hope this has helped. And thanks for your concern, and your desire to stand in solidarity with us! It's so welcome. :)

ETA: here's a link to the Guild's social media toolkit, for those who'd like to change PFPs or icons, etc., to show their support.

#Writers Guild strike #DoTheWriteThing #WGAStrong

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magics-neptunes-things · 5 months

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La Comedia del Amor

Hi guys!

I miss Alexia so this is an Alexia fic. I hope you will also like it, it took me quite a while to write. Also I don't know how I feel about this one.

Have a good read!

Resume: Someone tries to interfere in your relationship, making your girlfriend believe that you are unfaithful to her. Spoiler, you are not.

TW: Mention of deception, manipulation

______________________________________________________________

Since the beginning of your relationship, you have made a habit of picking up Alexia at the airport when she returns to Barcelona. This is a precious and important moment for you, allowing you to find the woman you are in love with as quickly as possible.

At the beginning of your relationship, you waited wisely in your car, a little behind the crowd not to get caught. But since it’s now public knowledge that you are together, you don’t hesitate to go and wait in the arrivals hall. Alexia’s teammates don’t even tease her anymore, as they are used to your little routine.

With Alexia away from you for an international match, you salute Ale’s Spanish teammates playing for FC Barcelona. So like half the team. Alexia taking time to pass the security doors, you exchange with pleasure a few words with Ona and Cata until your beloved blonde finally arrives.

Smiling, you spread your arms for a hug and you are a little surprised by the strength with which she almost throws herself in them once arrived at your height. You let go of an amused little laugh and tightens her against you, smelling her hair, your previous interlocutors having left to leave you your intimacy.

"Hola mi Amor" you whisper before gently kissing her cheek.

"Hola" she responds quietly before smiling when you hand her the bouquet of flowers that you brought for her.

Mix of red roses and lemon blossoms, your mother being a florist she would risk disinheriting you if you didn’t pay attention to the flowers you choose. The lemon blossoms having the meaning of being a messenger of perfect union and eternal love, it seems to you rather well chosen. As for the roses, they are simply Alexia’s favorites.

"Is everything okay?" you ask Alexia once in your car.

Even though Alexia isn’t the most talkative person in the world, she has hardly spoken a word since you left the airport. On the other hand, you surprise her several times looking at you from the corner of her eyes. When you turn in her direction this time, she seems to be studying your face carefully.

"Yes, I’m just tired"

You give her a compassionate smile and gently place your hand on her thigh. A second later, you feel her hand on yours, squeezing it gently.

"I missed you" you tell her, looking at her again, your eyes passing from the road to Alexia’s face while driving.

"I missed you too" says the player before turning her head to look out the window. "How’s the movie going?"

"Good for now. But we just tried our clothes and made the readings for now"

Alexia hums, letting her gaze glide over the city as it passes before her eyes. You are an actress, it was at a charity event organized by FC Barcelona that you met Alexia. Being a pure Catalan product too, the club has tried several times to invite you for this event, but it never fit in your calendar. Except that that year, you got to go.

And we can’t say that you had the impression to make a good move with Alexia during this evening. Struck by the beauty of the captain, you tried for a long time to have a conversation with her. Realizing she was obviously not interested, you finally gave up and went sadly sip your drink somewhere else. Well, that was before she slipped into your DMs to apologize for her behavior the same night.

You’ll learn later that it was Jenni who forced her to write to you, having seen your interactions during the evening. And much, much, later that Alexia just panicked about the love at first sight she had about you too.

********

Gone all week for the profits of your film, it’s with great relief that you come out of Uber taking you back to the apartment you share with Alexia. Arriving early in the morning, it’s barely 8am when you push the front door. You didn’t ask Alexia to pick you up. Her hours of recovery are precious and you have a strong tendency to put her before the rest. Because of the time difference since you were in the States, you couldn’t talk to Alexia as much as you would have liked.

You knew she’d be up when you arrived, her morning routine never changing. What you certainly didn’t expect is to be welcomed by a real fury. You didn’t even have time to open your mouth as you almost got knocked out by a phone that crashes against the wall, a few inches from your face.

"What the…?"

"Did you cheat on me?" a shout goes up.

"What?"

The vision of your girlfriend is terrifying. First because she is visibly very angry, second because her green eyes you love so much are red and swollen, meaning that she must have cried for a long time before you arrived. And thirdly because she seems to be at the end of her nerves when she resumes speaking while shouting.

"You heard me. Did you cheat on me? Did you sleep with her?"

"Alexia, what are you talking about?"

You have been getting rid of your backpack and suitcase for a long time at this point, even if you didn't step further into the apartment. Leaning forward to grab Alexia’s phone that almost knocked you out, you mechanically glance at the screen. By miracle the phone only has a slight scratch, but that’s not what catches your attention. When you see the image open, you feel your stomach fall in your heels. Immediately looking back at Alexia, you hurry to talk.

"It’s not what you think"

"Don’t you have better than that?" Alexia laughed coldly.

The image certainly is disturbing. It shows you in a car with one of the actress with whom you share the movie poster. You just bend over to kiss her on the cheek and say goodbye, like two friends. Except that with the pixels left on the picture, we can wonder if it’s a kiss or a kiss that you are exchanging.

"Alexia I swear..."

"Don't touch me!"

You moved in her direction and reached out to touch her, but she retreats from you as quickly as if she had burned herself.

"First I get messages that tell me to beware of her and that you are far too close for it to be normal and then this? Don’t take me for an idiot Y/N"

"Who sent you messages?" you ask with a frown.

"It doesn’t matter! Fuck! I can’t believe you’re doing this to me!"

"But I did nothing!"

You raised your voice too, mixed between the panic that the situation inspires you and the annoyance of not being believed. You know Alexia doesn’t tolerate betrayal and lying. If she doesn’t change her mind, there are big risks to your story ending quickly.

"Stop lying!"

Alexia shout a last time at you before rushing to your bedroom and slamming the door, leaving you standing there with her phone still in your hand. Your heart break when you hear her crying behind the door. Deep and long sobs.

You wait a few seconds before knocking on the door.

"Ale?"

But no answer comes back to you, except a "fuck off" whispered a few seconds later. With a heavy heart, you will finally fall on the sofa of your living room. You impatiently wipe the tears rolling over your cheeks, wondering how you could switch to loving words exchanged on the phone before taking off at that, in just 16 hours.

Yes, well, you know. That famous picture. Your phone rings and a message from the other actress in the picture, Alicia, asks you if you arrived home, but you don’t answer her for the moment. The messages that Alexia mentioned to you come to your mind and you hesitate a split second before unlocking the screen and looking for them.

This is the first time you’ve searched in Alexia’s phone, even though you exchanged your codes a long time ago. Until now, you have always had blind trust in each other. You end up finding what you are looking for and the date of the messages tells you that they were send the night before Alexia returns from her international match.

From : Unknow Hola Alexia You have to keep an eye on Y/N Your precious girlfriend seems to get along too well with Alicia to be honest At the same time I understand it, you are constantly away She probably has physical needs, she’s Spanish after all, right? And Alicia is kind of hot ;)

Alexia never answer to this.

You’re nauseous just reading this, so you can’t imagine the state Alexia must have been in when she received these messages. Yet she didn’t tell you anything. You don’t know if it’s because she decided to trust you, if it’s because she found it unimaginable or because she was too afraid to talk to you about it. Unfortunately, the only person who can answer you is locked in your bedroom and refuses to speak to you.

After a few minutes of ruminating, you return to the door of your bedroom and knock again, more slowly this time.

"Alexia? Baby open to me please"

When the silence answers you, you sigh and let yourself go against the door until you find yourself sitting on the ground. Tired and suffering from jet lag, you lose track of time, lost in your thoughts. It's only when the door opens and you fall backwards that you come back to reality. Dressed to go out, Alexia has her gym bag in hand.

"Ale…" you start slowly, but you are quickly interrupted by your girlfriend’s cold voice.

"I have to go to the game. I don’t have time for your bullshit right now."

Within a few steps she got her phone back and got out of the apartment. After a few seconds, you grab yours and dial the number of the only person who can help you. A few bells ring before Jenni picks up.

"I’m not sure I want to hear from you, Y/N."

Alexia told her about the situation, you were almost sure of it. But she’s the only one who can make Alexia at least listening to you.

"I can imagine, but I swear this is all wrong, Jenni. I beg you, you have to help me…"

A silence answers you and you don’t know if Jenni is touched by your despair or if she can’t imagine you cheating on Alexia. Anyway, she finally sighs before answering you.

"Okay, I’ll be right there."

********

Jenni being injured and unable to train with her team, she is in Barcelona to see her relatives. It’s therefore only about twenty minutes later that she rings at the door of your apartment. You open the door and don’t even wait until she gets in to get back on your couch. Jennifer almost takes her feet in your bag that still hangs in the entrance, but you don’t react otherwise than by bringing your legs against your chest.

Sitting in front of you, Jenni looks at you for long seconds before speaking.

"Alexia is one of the most important people to me. I'll help you, but i need you to tell me only the truth."

With your throat knotted, you just nod your head, looking at your feet.

"Do you know who sent those messages?" Jenni asks.

"No" you whisper

"Did you cheat on Alexia?"

"No!" you answer louder.

"Are you interested in this Alicia in a way you shouldn’t?"

"Of course not!" you answer, frankly annoyed this time." You know I’m crazy about Alexia, why would I risk losing her that way? When we started dating, I promised you I would never hurt her and I really meant it. I love her. There’s only her."

Jenni looks at you thoughtfully for a few seconds, her face framed by her long black hair. Then she nods before resuming speech.

"Okay, sorry I had to ask. Now we’re gonna have to find out who’s behind this, or it’s not gonna stop and even get worse."

********

Alexia didn’t come home tonight after her game. You waited a long time for her after Jenni left, who assured she knew someone who could find the sender of the messages. You don’t know who she went to, probably Mapi. She's one of her closest friends.

You sent Alexia several unanswered messages, despite the notifications that she read them. You took the opportunity to repeat to her that you had nothing to reproach you, that you love her and ask her to come back home. Even if she didn’t answer it, you’re hoping that repeating those words will make her believe you.

It's by receiving a new message from Alicia that you realize that you haven't replied to her since earlier. So you simply answer her that you have arrived well and that you will see her again soon. You leave her message unanswered again when she offers you to go for a breakfast tomorrow morning. It's out of the question to leave the apartment and take the risk of missing Alexia’s return.

Despite your fatigue, you have been struggling all night not to fall asleep, going for a cool shower when you feel that your body can no longer fight against sleep. The day goes by without news of your girlfriend, despite the messages you continue to send her regularly. Alexia continues to read them, without answering you.

It’s only on Monday that you finally left your apartment, accepting a new proposal from Alicia to go for a coffee. You agree, as long as it’s close to your apartment. You really don’t want to mingle with the cheerful crowd of the people of Barcelona today, all you want is to keep the entrance of your building within sight.

You don’t know if Alicia heard about the photo or the article, if so she doesn’t mention it and you’re grateful for it. You really don’t want to talk about it. As you sit down at the table, your phone starts ringing, making you hope it’s Alexia. You can’t hide your disappointed face by seeing that it’s only Jenni’s name that appears. You pick up, however, hoping you can get some news from her. Apologizing to Alicia, you get up from the table to answer outside the café.

"Jenni?" you just say by leaning against the wall at the entrance of the establishment.

"Hola Chica. Where are you?"

The noise of traffic next to you isn't very discreet, you are not surprised by the question.

"At the coffee shop downstairs the apartment with Alicia."

"Okay. Get out of there quick."

"What? Why?"

"Don’t be as stubborn as Alexia and obey me for once, for God’s sake you’re unbearable, both of you!"

You are surprised by the striker’s outburst, but your surprise is quickly erased by another voice you hear grumbling behind her. You’re sure it’s Alexia’s. Your heart is racing and you’re peeling off the wall you were leaning on.

"Is that Alexia? Is she with you?"

"Madre mia. Yes. Now obey, go away from there, without turning back."

"Ok fine, I’m going home" you sigh softly.

Without hanging up, you do what she tells you. Maybe she’s half-crazy, but she has the advantage of being with Alexia. If she asked you to walk in on your hands, you would do it as long as you could talk to your girlfriend. However, as you enter the elevator of your building, Jenni surprises you once again.

"Ok, I’ll hang up now"

"What? No Jenni wait!"

Despite your attempts to call her back, she doesn't answer and it's by dropping a "Joder" that you finally open the door, after giving a punch in it.

"What a language for a young lady like you"

You jump when you realize that someone is in your apartment, relaxing when you realize that it's Jenni with an amused smile. Then your gaze quickly travels in search of a head with blond hair, only to fall on the head of thirty man with hair as dark as Jenni's.

"He's not Alexia" you mumble by crossing your arms on your chest.

Jenni rolls her eyes but cannot hide her amused smile, seeing the many feelings passing on your face.

"No, this is my cousin Mario."

"I want to see Ale" you whisper, your voice breaking on the last syllable.

Your despair is more than visible and you even hesitate to get on your knees to beg her. The disappointment is equal of the hope that you had to see her again, even if it lasted only two seconds.

"Not now" Jenni replies in a soft voice, as if hoping it hurts you less.

You sigh and close your eyes, trying to swallow your tears. You’ve been crying enough these past few days not to burst into tears in front of your girlfriend’s best friend. You don’t see the hesitant look that she exchange with Mario, nor the look of the brunette who flickers towards your bedroom, where Alexia has entrenched herself for the moment.

You didn’t wonder how Jenni got into the apartment because you’re so lost, but she’s the one who let them in. Sitting against the door of your room, Alexia listens carefully to your conversation. She too has gone through a thousand emotions in recent days and she is not sure she can face you until everything is settled in this story. Still, the urge to come and hug you is not what it lacks.

However, the four of you are surprised in your respective thoughts when your phone starts ringing.

"Who is it?" Jenni asks

"I don’t care" you pout like a teenager.

Sighing softly, Jenni grabs your phone and displays a satisfied look when seeing who is trying to reach you.

"Alicia. Perfect."

If you arch an eyebrow, Alexia tightens her jaw by hearing the name that she hates with all her soul now. And the fact that Mario has the same smile as his cousin loses you even more.

"I need you to answer the phone, tell her you had to rush back to your apartment but she can come to you. I’ll explain to you later."

You understand less and less what is happening, but you obey quickly, not wishing to attract the wrath of the brunette once again. The call only lasts a few seconds but you see Mario working on his computer at the same time.

"She’s coming" you mumble, widening your eyes when Jenni takes your face in her hands.

"Perfect. Now listen to me carefully. Mario managed to trace the personne who send the messages to Alexia and connect to his phone. This is the same person who contacted the journalists to take a picture of you in the car and it's still her who contacted journalists to come and take a picture of you right now."

"I don’t understand. Take a picture of what?"

"You and Alicia"

"But there is nothing to take pictures of!" You start panicking again "We would have just had coffee and I would have come back here right after… without her!" you suddenly add by realizing how can be taken your sentence. "I didn’t… I never…"

"Y/N focus please" says Jenni, spanning her finger behind your eyes.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to relax the ball that is your current nerve.

"I never cheated on Alexia" you repeat for what you feel is the hundredth time, desperately.

"I know chica. That’s why I need you to talk about the pictures with her, about Alexia seeing them and breaking up with you because of it. Which is not the case!"

Your panicked look didn’t escape her. Nothing seems to escape her these past few days, not even your innocence. She should have been an investigator.

"How’s that gonna prove to Alexia that I didn’t do anything?" you ask while arching an eyebrow.

But the doorbell rings and Jenni gives you a menacing look before running away to your room dragging Mario with her, almost crushing Alexia against the wall. You take the time to take a deep breath before opening the front door. You don’t need to put on a fake tortured face, your stress can be the case in the circumstances described by Jenni. You’re an actress after all, and you can act to save your relationship.

"Is everything okay?" Alicia asks, worried, the door barely open.

You nod and make her come in, absolutely unaware that Mario has installed a camera allowing them to follow the action from the bed of your room, where he's installed with Jenni and Alexia. She gradually becomes aware that the betrayal she thought she was suffering is not real, but if she needs video proof Jenni and Mario will give her.

"Not really" you mumble quietly before waving her to settle on the couch.

"What is happening?"

Alicia puts her hand on your knee with a sympathetic look, but the gesture fully make Alexia’s body tense. You don’t really realize the move yourself.

"Alexia saw pictures of both of us that can be confusing. She didn’t take it very well. She just left me"

"Oh... I'm so sorry"

The voice you use to speak doesn't have to be changed, despite you the memories of this fight remain deep in you. You still don’t know that your girlfriend now believes in your innocence.

"I’m going to slit her throat alive" Alexia mumbles between her teeth as Alicia discreetly approaches you on the couch, her knee against yours.

"Not now" Jenni mutters in return, putting a hand on Alexia’s mouth to silence her, without leaving the screen with her eyes.

The place you chose on the couch to sit doesn't allow them to have the best angle of view, but at least they can perfectly hear what you say and have a complete view of Alicia’s face. Yours is sometimes half masked.

"The worst is that I have nothing to blame myself about. I don't understand how she can imagine that I want to be with someone else"

"Well maybe she doesn’t deserve you, if she doesn’t trust you"

Surprise, you look up at Alicia. She and Alexia never really met, the times when Alexia is accompanying you for the first visits with the producers for example, Alicia was never around.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing more. Trust is the cement of a couple, if they don’t trust how you want it to work? Maybe you should find someone who can offer you more than that"

You blink several times while looking at her before frowning. Your vulnerability almost made you forget the role Jenni asked you to play. If Alexia doubted, it was only because of the machinations of the person wishing to separate you and her.

It’s only when you feel her putting a strand of your hair back behind your ear before leaning towards you for the obvious purpose of kissing you that the pieces of the puzzle come together.

"It was you" you whisper, breathless because of the surprise.

"What?"

A little unhappy, she backs away as you jump off the couch, hands trembling.

"The messages to Alexia, the fake photos, it was you! How could I be stupid enough not to realize it before?"

Alicia also got up to get closer to you again, grabbing your arm in the process.

"Of course it was me! I knew we needed a little help to get together. I’ve been crazy about you since day one Y/N. I knew Alexia would stop us from being together, all I had to do was get her away from you. And it worked pretty well."

You’re so stunned that you waste three seconds wondering if you were the victim of a hidden camera or something. Unfortunately, Alicia takes advantage of these three seconds to get dangerously close to you, once again hopping to kiss you.

"Let go of my girlfriend!"

Alexia’s voice resounds with as much force as the sound of the slap she addresses to Alicia a few moments later. It’s definitely too much information for your brain these last few seconds and you have the impression that it makes a reset while watching Alicia leave your home under the insults of Alexia.

You see from the corner of the eye Mario who seems to have a lot of fun and Jenni with a satisfied smile displayed on the face. But you focus instead on Alexia, who you didn’t know was there, who suddenly turns to you.

"And you!"

She points her finger at you and keeps talking loudly, making you back up to the wall behind you. But Alexia follows you, stopping only a few inches from you, her finger now leaning against your chest.

"Never again dare to make me live a period like this."

Her voice is just a whisper and you can finally look into her for the first time in an eternity. Her eyes are bright with fatigue, the dark circles below testify to the lack of sleep she suffered. You sigh of relief when she lets her forehead go against yours and passes your arms around her waist to finally feel her against you.

"Never again" you promise

She nods several times before letting out a small sob and burying her face in the hollow of your neck.

"We’re leaving" Jenni speaks and you turn your attention on her. "Mario turned off the camera so if you want to practice your makeup sex on the couch, you can. But please, have a conversation before."

Alexia has a wet little laugh in the hollow of your neck and once the door of your apartment closes, you gently take her chin in your hand so you can look at her. You have a lot to discuss and you will be much more comfortable on the sofa than against a wall.

********

A few hours later, you are in bed and not on the couch as Jenni had suggested. You got all of Alexia’s explanations about how things have been going these past few days. She did sleep a few nights at Mapi and Ingrid’s place, although Jenni has indeed often been in the equation. You then gave her your vision of the facts, even if you don’t have much to tell her. You just waited to hear from Jenni while harassing Alexia with messages.

You took a long time to celebrate your reunion and now you are simply lying, enjoying each other. You have your head resting on Alexia’s chest, listening to her heartbeat. Finding back her scent makes you feel good too, you always found that she smelled like the sun and flowers. One of her hands is playing with your fingers and the other is simply placed in the hollow of your back.

"I have one more question"

"Mmmh?"

Alexia’s voice, although very sweet, breaks the silence between you. You start drawing shapes on her belly with your other hand, smiling when you feel her muscles contracting under your fingers.

"Why didn’t you ask me to pick you up at the airport when you came back from Nevada?"

"So that you can rest as much as possible and be ready for your game. And I thought that maybe we could have lunch together before I came to see you at the stadium."

"Oh."

Alexia’s response makes you face up in her direction. She has slightly furrowed eyebrows and bites her lip and you are suddenly curious to know what makes her ask you this question.

"Why?"

Alexia looks embarrassed and carefully avoids your look when she answers you.

"I told myself that it was simply to gain a few more minutes with her"

When she turns her eyes towards the window, you realize that they are wet with tears and you feel your heart break.

"Oh Mi Amor…" you whisper as you climb up to have your face in front of her. "I just wanted you to get as much rest as possible. I know the game days are tiring."

"I wasn’t lying to you when I told you it was the worst time of my life, nothing to do with my ACL last year. It was like…"

"As if your heart was constantly being crushed? I know"

You are not the only one to have cried and suffered these last days, you realize it. And even more so when Alexia nods, relieved to know that you can understand her without her having to formulate her sentences entirely.

"It's over now. I'm here and yours. Only yours, as long as you want me."

You put several kisses on her lips, savoring each of them.

Until Alexia grabs your neck to prolong the next one and imprisons your lips in a long and sensual kiss, announcing the second round of the night. After all, you’ll have plenty of time to talk a little later.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine

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unadulteratedsoulsweets · 1 year

Text

A DC X DP IDEA #3 Oh Brother,

Imagine dis…

We all read and heard about the lost son of Bruce Wayne and also the Lost twin of Damian Al Ghul Wayne.

But what about the lost brother of Bruce Wayne?

On the night of the 26th of June, The young Bruce Wayne didn’t just lose his parents but also his brother. After murdering both of their parents the gunman, Joe Chill turned his attention to the boys, one young teen who could not be older than 16 keeping his young 8-year-old from seeing the corpse of their parents. Thinking that it is better to leave the scene with no witness fired two more rounds in the direction of the children and quickly turned tail.

Daniel Wayne covered his little brother’s body from the bullets catching the two rounds with his own body. Catching the horrified look of his younger brother, feeling the blood in his mouth as well the fact that his own body is shaking from what had just happened in a matter of minutes. Grabbed his brother’s shoulders, smiled, and hugged him so tight as he knows that his brother is not allowed to follow him or his parents to the afterlife for a long time.

As his consciousness fades he catches the teary-eyed brother of his, trying to catch him before he hits the pavement.

…

Clockwork frowns at the timelines between the two realms, one who is not supposed to exist, exists while the other who is supposed to be born is not to be born thus collapsing the timeline of both realms but with the recent development to the other realm made him have a difficult choice. Guiding the young Daniel’s soul to the other realm to replace what was lost.

…

Danny grew up feeling missing something, with absentee parents and a parent sibling it's no wonder what he would have missed.

Maybe he missed the times when his parents were actual parents to them instead of focusing their attention on their machines.

Maybe it is the life he had before the tragic accident that changed him.

Maybe it is the normality between him being a ghost hero and being a normal teen.

But…

Every time he saw two brothers playing near Casper High, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of longing.

His ghostly core and human heartache for the familiar setting to the point he kept seeing a younger “double” of himself.

Don’t get him wrong he can create clones of himself to help him during fights but this “double” is different from him he looked like someone he missed so dearly while he looked like someone who has the same delicate face as him.

Which would be impossible if it was always been him and Jazz alone in the house full of things that could potentially end his existence.

The phantom pain he would feel from bullets on a specific month, day, and time, instead of electricity made him quickly go to Frostbite and Clockwork.

Frostbite explained that it is quite normal for a newly formed ghost to feel the phantom pains of its reason for death.

But he died from electrocution, not from bullets.

He went to Clockwork but the moment he saw the figure of his grandfather mentor he couldn’t help but sense a feeling of dread.

…

Clockwork knew that in each timeline there would be a day and time for his grandson apprentice to ask about such ire that had been bothering him ever since he became a halfa. Each time he tried to prolong the inevitable but it seems that he was caught off guard for today.

…

Clockwork explained to Danny his crimes to him and his soul. How the Master of time itself forced him to live a life just after he had ended his first one.

Danny’s mind may have had a million thoughts at the time but at that moment he only cared about two things.

Who has he been before and what happened to his brother?

Clockwork explained He was Daniel Thomas Wayne the firstborn son in the union of Martha and Thomas Wayne. He used to live in a manor with his family grandfather/butler, he gained a little brother that was named Bruce Wayne. On the day of his former death day, his brother kept pestering their parents to go to the movies as they have been busy and Bruce felt that he was alone, being loving parents they indulged Bruce in his pestering as they too noticed them being too busy. On the night they went to Crime Alley for a shortcut to Wayne manor, they were ambushed and killed, and his parents were.

Shakingly, Danny begged to see Bruce, his core ached for his missing family, his brother. Bruce his little brother, hoped that he didn’t follow, he hoped that he is doing fine.

Clockwork didn’t respond but showed him a one-way mirror-view of his former dimension. There the mirror shows a familiar dining room, with a grown man who has black hair and striking blue eyes talking to a younger boy named Jason as Alfred serves Bruce’s morning coffee.

Danny could not help but smile, his little brother is all grown-up. Starting a little family of his own, Danny’s only request is to be able to visit Clockwork’s haunt to observe his little brother.

Each visit made him learn more about the man his little brother turned into.

He turned into a vigilante protecting the people in Gotham, his favorite soup stayed the same despite the fact he used to eat that soup with someone else, he has an adoption issue (He could not blame him though, not when he adopted both Dan and Dani), then his little brother went and adopted a sentiment starfish from outer space, that he owes his nephews and nieces a ton of gifts from missing their milestones, and many more…

But he wished that he was there as well…

When Jason died at the hands of Joker, when he was lost in the time stream, when he learned that he missed a decade's worth of his “blood” son’s life, the death of Damian, not protecting Barbara from being shot by the Joker, letting his demons run his life…

He just wished he was there to hold his little brother in his arms as he protect him from the dangers of the world just like he had done when he was Daniel protecting Bruce from his nightmares as well the monsters under his bed.

After a reveal went wrong he gathered up his human friends and flee toward the zone after destroying everything related to ghosts and the realms.

Taking up the mantle of Ghost king he made sure that he still have time to observe his family on the other dimension.

…

Meanwhile, in the DC universe, Ra Al Ghul and Lex Luther had created a bioweapon that turns ordinary people into some sort of zombie slaves of the Lazarus pit minus the death part of being a zombie. Things got out of hand both villains and heroes are scrambling to contain the bioweapon virus as well as looking for a cure as it has spread from Gotham, Metropolis, Star City, and more big-name cities. They could not merely kill the infected just like in a movie from a zombie apocalypse as they are still alive.

Symptoms include glowing green veins that are seen as well pupil-less eyes in addition to an extra boost in strength, as the infected multiply by having an open wound be infected by the green veins that produce some sort of green murky blood aka the Lazarus pits.

Danny saw the predicament of his home dimension and decided to intervene, with the approval of his court. He entered the dimension, and as he turned into his human half he noticed that his age was regressed to the time he was murdered.

The infected ignored and followed his commands as per his position, avoiding any confrontation with his brother or any supers that might demand him why the infected are ignoring him, he pretended to be infected that can think and speak as well that was raised from the dead.

It was quite easy for him to pretend on the glowing veins as pure ectoplasm flowed through his veins. He just made sure that he is always a glowing green glowstick.

Walking around in a zombie apocalypse is less fun than he thought it would be, grabbing a backpack that was discarded he filled it up with weapons and started his journey at the foot to look for the cure.

(Thoughts of seeing his brother made him fill his head full of possibilities)

On his way to Gotham, he saw his nephew (Tim) surrounded by infected and about to wound him when he immediately snatched him to safety. Seeing the deep eye bags of his nephew he let him rest at his makeshift safe house as he guarded Tim he can't help but wonder why on earth he was out in the open.

…

Tim groaned awake as he remembered what had just happened in a few months. Ra’s and Lex made a bio-hazard weapon that was made from the Lazarus pits (Which made him wonder which of the two thought that was a good idea as the Lazarus pits are still a mystery to the Batclan as well to the world) and went out of hand thus ended up having the Justice League cleaning up their mess.

He remembered being surrounded by the infected after his usual recon, he was pretty sure he broke a rib and his arm as running away from the horde or getting them with tranquilizer darts were the only options, he was sure that it was his end.

When he woke up he didn’t expect to be still infected free nor the infected teen, who is a blue-eyed black-haired teen, definitely a Wayne bait, in front of him trying to bandage him.

After the initial confusion and panic and the conversation, he concluded that the bio weapon had evolved to the point of reviving dead teens.

(Seeing what the Lazarus pit had done to Jason and Ra was not far fetch)

The teen who introduced himself as Danny woke up somewhere which was near Metropolis and stated that he was nowhere near his hometown nor where he was buried initially and was walking around to find more humans as he was pretty sure when he died zombie apocalypse are nothing more than fantasy as well the supers are but fictions as he kept reading the latest yet tossed out newspapers, which explains the newspapers in the corner and had concluded that it has been more than 2 decades since he died.

He made an offer to Tim that he couldn’t possibly refuse, he could help him return where he was as the infected tend to ignore him thus having a guide and bodyguard in his injured state as well a specimen that can talk and walk around cities without having the risk of being infected, in return he just needs help in finding his brother.

After a long tenacious walk to Gotham, both bond over small talks, jokes, and camping as well as filling up Danny with what he had missed in the decade while he was 6 feet under.

Tim learned that Danny adored his little brother and wished to see him one last time before going back to the dead.

…

Bruce was worried, Tim was supposed to time in a few hours back. He along with the rest of the bats and the Justice League members were lucky enough to escape and regroup at a later date. Sitting in one of the fortified safe houses with a few infected being wandered.

When he was about to check the communication for the umpteenth time the cameras caught something. Immediately all went to the monitor to have a better look at what had just tripped their alarm. There is Tim wounded and bandaged but still infected free, which gave relief to the Batclan behind him on the other hand caused worries.

An Infected teen behind Tim follows him while looking around him, upon closer inspection they can see the boy’s eyes despite being infected. Some of the Justice League thought that Tim may have found someone who has at least some sort of immunity to the Infected.

The Batclan on the other hand caught sight of Bruce stiffening along with Alfred. Both seemed to look at the infected teen with familiarity. Luckily that the cameras had audio and played the live feed.

Tim was talking to the mystery teen about meta-human rights while the mystery teen kept nodding along. Tim asked about the mystery teen’s little brother which the teen brighten up and talked about his little brother’s pranks towards their father every time he left them on their own devices like melting crayons on top of his shoes to adding color according to his little brother. As well as the fact he made a special lullaby just for him.

The mystery teen began to hum an unfamiliar tune to those who are watching except Alfred and Bruce, Alfred was ready to cry while Bruce made a face that both his co-workers and children never saw him make.

Bruce’s mind immediately supplied the missing lyrics while the mystery teen kept humming along.

If I was dying on my knees

You would be the one to rescue me

And if you were drowned at sea

I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe

I've got you brother-er-er-er

As they were nearing the armed gate of the safe house, Tim asked what is his little brother’s name was as once this was over he was willing to pass the message.

The mystery teen smiled sadly and said fondly… oh brother,

#dc #dp #dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #danny fenton #danny phantom #ghost king danny #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #timothy drake

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cupids-chamber · 1 year

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— INTRODUCING THE CONCUBINES / CONSORTS + others ♡. The first part and it's over 1k words hahdk

. LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ; The second prince of the neighboring country; married the emperor for what is presumed to be diplomatic reasons; he has his entire family's support and backing, allowing for the utmost comfortable experience. Though many assume Leona married into the harem for political reasons alone; Leona had many more prominent and dignified proposals that he had denied blatantly in the past and his family had never truly pushed him to get married- his brother preferred giving him freedom and free will… and yet he married into the harem? An union which was more than unlikely to be accepted by the lion?.. Why would he agree to this marriage.. Could there be a reason?

. RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS ; Riddle comes from a high ranking family; his family owns multiple pharmacies and is a known name in the medical district, his family has treated royalty and many other foreign diplomats in the past; originally he had no plans in joining the harem, despite being a palatable candidate for a high ranking position, the stories and fights he’s heard of in the past, regarding the harem made him decide that it was better off marrying into a normal noble family then royalty; but per his mothers request he joined into the brutal playground that is the royal harem, thankfully his unique magic puts him at a advantage in any fights that may occur.

. JADE/FLOYD LEECH ; Many say that twins are attached to the hip and would follow along everywhere the other goes; and this seems to be the case for this pair. The Leech family had been a pillar for the empire and helped the emperor for many years; they've played a role in imperial politics, hand in hand with the emperor for multiple generations by now. Though many could argue the pair married into the imperial family to strengthen the relationship and political bond between the two families; in reality only one son marrying into the family would have the same effect.. So why did the pair decide on such a decision?

. TREY CLOVER ; Trey’s family owns the emperor's favorite bakery; Trey fell for the emperor at a young age, even among first sight. Yet he remains blissfully unaware and in denial of his feelings for the emperor, burying them deep into the enraptures of his heart. He enters the palace as a concubine and before this entire ordeal he’d send baked goods to the emperor, preferably the emperor's favorites with recommendations of other sweets they should try; he’d continue sending these baked goods to the emperor after his entry in the palace; which in return allowed him to gain the emperor's favor quickly.

. KALIM AL ASIM ; A wealthy mercenary heir, of the biggest mercenary there is. Kalim was brought up as a candidate for the emperor's official partner; and for some peculiar reason he agreed to join the harem. Reasons of interest are unknown and even his parents were shocked when he decided so, but the public is quite interested in knowing why the ever so charming heir of what seems to be one of the richest- if not richest families around, married into the royal family's brutal playground.

. JAMIL VIPER ; Background is unknown; ?????.. information unattainable.

. YUUKA ; Emperor's closest companion, personal guard, and childhood friend. Seems to know a lot about the emperor and their whereabouts, quite a few concubine candidates contacted them in advance and tried paying her for information- but her loyalty resulted in her denying all offers. The emperor reaches out to her for advice and care, onlookers describe their relationship to be too close for comfort.

. YUUKEN ; One of the emperor's most trusted guards and close comrades; the pair became friends in childhood as they studied under the same teacher/mentor, their friendship continued to blossom and strengthen over the upcoming years and into the emperor's youth. The two can be spotted alongside Yuuka, another close companion, having tea in the garden. Though these meetings occur less nowadays as the Emperor, the pair of guards become all the more busier.

. CHE'NYA ; Che’nya often finds himself sneaking into the gardens of the imperial palace; these visits increased when the new emperor was crowned, as the palace being in a stir allowed his visits to be more frequent and carefree. However recently he was caught on his expeditions by the emperor themselves, this channeled a sort of cat and mouse relationship between the pair. Che’nya could have gotten an higher rank in the harem, yet only decided to send his application in after he met the emperor in the garden; due to his curiosity, but the late application only earned him the role of a concubine. (Which he was fine with)

. VIL SCHOENHEIT ; Originally a candidate for the position of the Emperors official spouse and was planning on giving up the role after hearing of the Emperors announcement; yet pushed for the role of an Imperial consort after hearing that his longtime rival would be joining the harem. He has a strong backing as a high ranking court official's only child. He’s confident in his abilities and can make some devilishly succulent tea; though he prefers not doing manual labor and focusing more on skills he finds to be useful and not minor.

. NEIGE LEBLANCHE ; Had seen the emperor before while they were still training to become an heir and wasn’t yet crowned as the heir to the throne. At the time he was told to keep a distance from them, and Neige was raised in a strict military family; so he complied easily. However, he claims from the very first day he laid his eyes on the emperor, that it was true love and as such he convinced his parents to send in a letter of recommendation for him; though it would be a challenge to say the least, Neige’s strong backing allows him to be accepted easily. Thankfully he has company, as his childhood friend Vil will also be entering the palace.

— THE CONCUBINE GAME !! ♡. Synposis ; After many months of persuading, the emperor, Y/N L/N had finally agreed to take in a select few concubines and consorts—not an official partner.. but concubines. This caused an uproar in court; however the emperor promised to choose an official partner; amongst the crowd of concubines and consorts.. Who will the emperor choose?

— taglist ♡ ; @corvids-treasure-box , @queerlordsimon , @treytheslay , @syl-lithy , @liris--noir , @dxmoness , @oogly-oogly , @ravenlking ,@sarah22447 , @merurishi , @gyarunie , @nerdy-simp-7120 , @love-sicklesbian , @islander-posts , @the-dumber-scaramouche , @lunavixia , @senpaiofotome , @sophiethewitch1 , @voasprofile , @dotster001 , @aviagax , @eriislost , @twst-writer , @the-fox-of-the-eclipse , @yandere-kou , @achy-boo , @deathbunnyluv , @despairingy-obsessed , @tiyoin , @mirai-in-the-headspace , @novaloptr , @rose-the-witch1 ,

Previous | Masterlist | Next introduction | First chapter

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fiercynn · 7 months

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black & palestinian solidarities

if you support black liberation but are unsure of your stance on palestinian resistance, here’s a reminder that they are deeply intertwined. after the 1917 balfour declaration by the british government announcing the first support for a zionist state in palestine, zionism and israeli occupation of palestine have followed similar ideologies and practices to white supremacist settler colonial projects, so solidarity between black and palestinian communities has grown over time, seeing each other as fellow anti-imperialist and anti-racist struggles. (if you get a paywall for any of the sources below, try searching them in google scholar.)

palestinians have been inspired by and shown support for black liberationist struggles as early as the 1930s, when arabic-language newspapers in palestine wrote about the struggle by black folks in the united states and framed it as anti-colonial, as well as opposing the 1935 invasion by fascist italy of ethiopia, the only independent black african state at the time. palestinian support for black struggles grew in the 1960s with the emergence of newly-independent african states, the development of black and third world internationalisms, and the civil rights movement in the united states. palestinian writers have expressed this solidarity too: palestinian activist samih al-qasim showed his admiration for congolese independence leader patrice lumumba in a poem about him, while palestinian poet mahmoud darwish’s “letters to a negro” essays spoke directly to black folks in the united states about shared struggles.

afro-palestinians have a rich history of freedom fighting against israeli apartheid, where they face oppression at the intersections of their black and palestinian identities. some families trace their roots back hundreds of years, while others came to jerusalem in the nineteenth century from chad, sudan, nigeria, and senegal after performing the hajj (the islamic pilgrimage to mecca) and settled down. still others came to palestine in the 1940s specifically to join the arab liberation army, where they fought against israel’s ethnic cleansing of palestinians during the 1948 nakba (“catastrophe”). afro-palestinian freedom fighter fatima bernawi, who was of nigerian, palestinian, and jordanian descent, became, in 1967, the first palestinian woman to be organize an operation against israel, and subsequently the first palestinian woman to be imprisoned by israel. the history of afro-palestinian resistance continues today: even as the small afro-palestinian community in jerusalem is highly-surveilled, over-policed, disproportionately incarcerated, and subjected to racist violence, they continue to organize and fight for palestinian liberation.

black revolutionaries and leaders in the united states have supported the palestinian struggle for decades, with a ramp-up since the 1960s. malcolm x became a huge opponent of zionism after traveling to southwest asia and north africa (SWANA), publishing “zionist logic” in 1964, and becoming one of the first black leaders from the united states to meet with the newly formed palestine liberation organization. the black panther party and the third world women’s alliance, a revolutionary socialist organization for women of color, also supported palestinian resistance in the 1970s. writers like maya angelou, june jordan, and james baldwin have long spoken out for palestinians. dr. angela davis (who received support from palestinian political prisoners when she was incarcerated) has made black and palestinian solidarity a key piece of her work. and many, many more black leaders and revolutionaries in the united states have supported palestinian freedom.

while israel has long courted relationships with the african union and its members, there has been ongoing tension between them since at least the 1970s, when all but four african states (malawi, lesotho, swaziland, and mauritius) cut off diplomatic ties with israel after the 1973 october war. while many of those diplomatic relationships were reestablished in subsequent decades, they remain rocky, and earlier this year, the african union booted an israeli diplomat from their annual summit in addis ababa, ethiopia, and issued a draft declaration on the situation in palestine and the middle east that expressed “full support for the palestinian people in their legitimate struggle against the israeli occupation”, naming israeli settlements as illegal and calling for boycotts and sanctions with israel. grassroots organizations like africa 4 palestine have also been key in the BDS (boycott, divestment, sanctions) movement.

in south africa, comparisons between israel and south african apartheid have been prevalent since the 1990s and early 2000s. israel historically allied with apartheid-era south africa, while palestinians opposed south african apartheid, leading nelson mandela to support the palestinian liberation organization as "fighting for the right of self-determination"; over the years his statements have been joined by fellow black african freedom fighters like nozizwe madlala-routledge and desmond tutu. post-apartheid south africa has continued to be a strong ally to palestine, calling for israel to be declared “apartheid state”.

black and palestinian solidarities have continued into the 21st century. palestinian people raised money to send to survivors of hurricane katrina in the united states in 2005 (which disproportionately harmed black communities in new orleans and the gulf of mexico) and the devastating earthquake in haiti in 2010. in the past decade, the global black lives matter struggle has brought new emphasis to shared struggles. prison and police abolitionists have long noted the deadly exchange which brings together police, ICE, border patrol, and FBI agents from the united states to train with soldiers, police, and border agents from israel. palestinian freedom fighters supported the 2014 uprising in ferguson in the united states, and shared strategies for resisting state violence. over a thousand black leaders signed onto the 2015 black solidarity statement with palestine. the murder of george floyd by american cops in 2020 has sparked further allyship, including black lives matter protests in palestine, with organizations like the dream defenders making connections between palestinian and black activists.

this is just a short summary that i came up because i've been researching black and asian solidarities recently so i had some sources on hand; there's obviously so much more that i haven't covered, so please feel free to reblog with further additions to this history!

#free palestine #black liberation #black and palestinian solidarity #black and asian solidarity #original

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allthecanadianpolitics · 6 days

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Toronto city councillors must speak directly with unhoused people before making policy decisions on homelessness, advocates at Toronto city hall said Thursday.

That demand was one of many made by advocates at city hall.

Al, an unhoused person who only gave their first name, said a new group formed in the past year to give unhoused people a voice. That group, the Toronto Underhoused and Homeless Union, represents people who either live outside now or have been homeless before. Al is an executive board member of the group and lived in Allan Gardens in a tent.

"We need councillors to talk to the people who are actually affected by these decisions," Al said.

"We are the people for whom these decisions are life and death. Whatever happens in council, every council member and the mayor goes home to a soft bed and a roof over their heads and gets to sleep soundly. And we do not. We get killed or brutalized or spat on or some horrendous act of violence. And even if it doesn't happen, we're kept awake because we're scared," Al added. [...]

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

#cdnpoli #homelessness #Toronto #Ontario #capitalism #neoliberalism #housing crisis

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comeonamericawakeup · 3 months

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The biggest threat to the United States is not China or Russia or other "external threats," said Max Boot. It's "our own political dysfunction." The U.S. remains fundamentally strong, with the world's biggest and most resilient economy, the most powerful military, and 50 allies, compared with a handful for China and Russia. China's once-booming economy has stagnated, due to poor central planning and an aging and shrinking population. We remain the world's only true superpower and an "indispensable nation," keeping rogue actors like Vladimir Putin and Iran in check. But extreme partisan warfare and a growing isolationist movement have put us on the road to abdicating that critical role. A divided Congress cannot even pass a budget, or agree on military aid to embattled allies Israel and Ukraine. If Donald Trump and his "American First" brigade regains the White House, he'll likely abandon Ukraine, pull the U.S. out of NATO, alienate allies, and cripple our nation's global power. A host of enemies, including Nazi Germany, al Qaida, the Soviet Union, Russia, and China have been unable to cripple the U.S. and demote us to second-class status. But Americans may succeed where "others have failed."

THE WEEK November 24, 2023

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zhongrin · 2 years

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sayang

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, diluc, childe, xiao, ayato, kazuha, albedo, al haitham

◇ tags ◇ absolutely teeth-rotting fluff, slightly suggestive on some

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli frequently calls you “dear”, “darling”, and “my dearest”. if you’re married, he would be the type to call you and always refers to you as “(my) wife/husband/spouse”. whenever he feels a little clingy or needy misses you, sweeter nicknames like “treasure”, “jewel”, “sweetheart”, or “little one” would come out, and that’s your cue to drop everything you’re doing to coddle this man.

whatever nicknames you use to refer to him, he loves it all - just your sweet voice calling his name will make his day brighter…. just be careful when you call him with his old archon names, especially in the bedroom ;)

diluc only calls you “beloved” in private at first, but as you get comfortable with your budding relationship he starts to use them in public too.

he finds himself loving the ticklish sensation in his chest when you refer to him as “my boyfriend” or “my husband” when talking with other people. cuter nicknames like “my firefly”, “boyfie”, “hubby”, and “my love” will always bring his cheeks aflame. he abhors his “darknight hero” nickname, but he thinks it’s not so bad when you call him “my darknight”.

childe has an assortment of nicknames he calls you and the list is quite literally endless, but he especially abuses the use of “babe”, “baby”, “love”, and “my water fairy”. oh, and you know those weird nicknames lovers have for each other? that’s the two of you. there are probably a lot of inside jokes between you both for those nicknames, and he especially loves the weirded-out looks you get from strangers because they would never understand.

still, his absolute favorite has to be you whispering his actual name as you stare into each other’s eyes under the moonless nights, with the overabundance of love he doesn't think he deserves contained within your voice - “ajax”.

xiao’s names carry a multitude of memories and significance. a new beginning, a war machine, a symbol of protection, a desperate attempt to save one’s life... but when they fall from your lips it turns into something dear, something precious and pure, free of bloodshed and karma and war. like you’ve washed it anew and cradled it within your warm arms for millennia, your warmth seeping into cold, cracked jade.

he mostly calls you by your name, only because you calling him by his renewed name makes his heart do a little flip and a stutter. but on some rarer days, you might hear him utter sweeter names like “my dreamcatcher” or even “love”...

just maybe.

.... if you’re really lucky.

ayato is a fan of calling you embarrassing nicknames in public so he can see you lose your composure. “sweetheart”, “darling”, “my dear”, “my love”... he has no shame. when your engagement is finalized, there isn’t a day that passes where he doesn’t call you “my fiance” or “my betrothed” at least ten times. people referring you to “mr/mrs/mx kamisato” after your formal union never fails to bring a genuinely proud smile to his lips.

you won’t see him lose his cool no matter how many cringy nicknames you use on him. secretly, he enjoys your attempt and has a tier list of the most amusing ones you manage to think of. so far “my black camellia”, “mr. pillar of teasery”, and “sugar daddy” (he had no idea what it meant at first but he lost it when he finally found out what it meant) are the top three.

kazuha’s nicknames are as poetic and as free as he is. he doesn't settle for any specific names and every day you have a chance of getting a new one, but you’ll know he’s calling for you because he’ll be using that special tone. “dove”, “sparrow”, “maple”, “leaf”, “sunshine”, “moonshine”, “my heart”, “my soulmate”, “my home”, “my one and only” - the list is expanding as we speak.

in turn, you do the same to him, and he would be lying to say that he’s not looking forward to what you’re going to call him today. in fact, it might inspire him to write yet another haiku, which he will write and stash within his drawer, along with hundreds other papers of poems previously written from your influence.

albedo didn't exactly understand the appeal of sweet nicknames until you start calling him things like “my stardust”, “dear”, and “my prince”.

it’s like you opened a floodgate since then. you’re [name] but you're also “my starlight”, “my love”, and “dearest”. he doesn't have a lot of petnames for you but there's always a soft smile on his lips whenever he calls you one. however, this doesn’t seem to extend to when he’s talking with other people - for these occasions, he will still refer to you by your name properly. the only exception is when he’s talking with klee, he always refers to you as “big sis/bro/sibling [name]”, as if he’s prepping for the inevitable future where you three will become a family.

al haitham is another one who mainly calls you by your name. you might think that it hides your relationship from the public eye. but contrary to your thoughts, even blind people would know that you’re a couple, due to the soft undertone in his voice as his tongue rolls carefully to pronounce your name.

you can call him whatever you want and he wouldn’t mind. a few too many embarrassing nicknames in public might break his composure, though.

behind closed doors, he might slip out a “sweetheart” or even “love”. they might sound uncharacteristically gentle and soft compared to his usual selection of stoic words, but just remember to pay attention to his tone, because sometimes he will use them whenever you’ve pushed his buttons a little too far, and it might be a sign for you to back off…..

or don’t?

your choice, really.

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 10 months

Text

Deathless Death

Pairing: Osferth x nameless female character (third person perspective) Warnings: Religious guilt. Smut. Fingering. Slight exhibitionism. Oral (f receiving). Gratuitous Hozier references. Word count: 3.5k

Summary: When a young woman's father is killed following Skade's attack on the priests of Alton, Osferth agrees to take responsibility for her, feeling a need to protect a fellow Christian. However, the longer they travel together the deeper they have each other questioning their faith. Based on this request. Series masterlist.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

The Lord works in mysterious ways. This is a belief that Osferth has always clung firmly to, it is the only way he can justify his existence; the result of a union between a serving girl and a deeply religious king who, so embarrassed by his extramarital indiscretion, had ensured that Osferth was enrolled as a novice monk as soon as he was old enough, and refused to ever acknowledge him as his son.

Osferth is a bastard, yet he must have a purpose, for God does not give life without intent. He feels he has found his reason for being when he crosses paths with Uhtred, a man his uncle, Leofric, had always spoken kindly of. He offers to serve Uhtred as a warrior, though he has no fighting experience. This is the divine path chosen for him, he is certain of it. He clutches the hilt of his sword as tightly as he often grips the cross that sits around his neck in times of anguish, and does his best to be brave in spite of how afraid he feels.

Reluctantly he learns the ways of ale and women, surprised when the Lord does not smite him down for his sins. He surmises that he has misinterpreted the teachings of the Holy Book; a life of piety does not have to mean an existence endured in abstinence. Though his faith in God never once falters, he grows to enjoy, and even seek out, the pleasures he’d once mistaken for temptations. They are not a means for him to stray from the light, but another outlet in which he can revere it and give thanks.

It is not until he reaches the village of Alton with Uhtred and his men that he discovers the true purpose of the journey he has embarked upon. A group of Danes with a seeress named Skade in their midst has attacked the village, killing all of its holy men.

That is where he finds her. Such a fragile looking thing, sobbing her heart out while huddled behind a vegetable cart, clutching her cross in much the same way he used to do with his.

“Don’t be afraid.” He reassures her calmly, crouching so his face is level with hers.

“Are you an angel?” She asks tearfully, her eyes wide and imploring.

Osferth cannot help but smile at that. For you I’d like to be.

With gentle persuasion, Uhtred agrees to allow Osferth to bring the girl along, provided he is responsible for her. He is all too happy to agree to that. Her mother is long dead and the attack on Alton has killed her father, she has no one else. He was meant to meet her, he feels it in his heart.

Naturally, she is fearful of the others, her only prior encounter with heathens had ended in the death of her only living relative and left her all alone in the world. She clings to Osferth, but he does not mind it. He sees a lot of himself in her, how scared he’d been when he’d first left the monastery to accompany Uhtred. But if she is anything like him, she is resilient and she will pull through this.

As the weeks pass, her face becomes less marred by fear and grief. She is beautiful, Osferth realises. He has been grateful to have someone to bow his head in prayer with, however, the way that she snuggles next to him for warmth in front of the campfire, how closely she leans back against his chest as they ride together and the proximity in which she lays her bed roll next to his no longer feel so innocent, at least not to him.

He feels ashamed for harbouring such illicit thoughts about her. Her piety makes him feel like he is the worst kind of sinner. She does not partake in ale and stays quiet when the rest of the group share lewd jokes. Where her prayers are earnest and heartfelt, his feel flimsy and disingenuous. He would renounce the Lord and worship her instead if she asked it of him. The idea makes his stones ache. When she shivers and huddles to him for warmth it occurs to him that he’d burn everything in his path if only for her to never feel cold again.

Guilt blooms heavily in his chest at the thoughts and feelings she elicits from him, especially when she looks at him, her eyes are always filled with gratitude and adoration. He has grown to crave her gaze, despite the fact that she will never view him as anything more than a protector.

When it becomes too much for him to bear, he seeks the comfort of the nearest brothel. With each thrust into the whore beneath him, he imagines her face, how those hands that fold so delicately in prayer would feel clinging to his shoulders, how soft and supple her flesh would be against the wiry hardness of his own. When he reaches his peak, picturing her, he comes harder than he ever has before in his life. It feels like he has died and approached the very gates of Heaven.

If that is how it feels merely to think about her, he wonders what it would be like to actually be inside of her. It would surely feel holy and sacred, a pleasure not meant for mere mortals. For the second time that night he craves her, and so he seeks out another woman offering her services in the pleasure house.

He pays them well, and he is not unkind to them. He is convinced that that is why they fight over him the next day. He is mortified, especially when he sees that she is watching. She will think him godless, sinful. He hopes that the Lord is merciful and does not intend for her to leave him. He sends a silent prayer of thanks when she remains by his side in the days that follow.

It is not until Uhtred, Sihtric and Finan pay a visit to Alfred, and leave Osferth and her back at camp that he realises they’ve never truly been alone together. He shifts uncomfortably on the log he sits upon, glancing up from the flames of the fire every so often at her, unsure of what to say. She eyes him curiously the entire time, the warmth from the fire and the sunny afternoon meaning she does not snuggle to him as she usually would. Secretly he is disappointed.

“Do you still believe in God?” She asks quietly.

Her gaze is timid and as Osferth turns to meet her eye, she looks to her lap as though ashamed to have asked.

“Of course I do, my lady,” He replies softly, smiling at her. He wants more than anything for her to look at him again, there is something reverent in the way she regards him that makes his chest swell and his cock twitch. He could die happily with a single glance his way from her. “My faith has never waivered.”

“You are not as devout as the people from back home.” Her fingers pinch and stroke over the fabric of her skirt as she says this, not looking up at him as he sits across from her.

“I used to be,” He admits with a slight shrug, wondering if she thinks less of him for his perceived lack of faith. “I suppose travelling with Uhtred has taught me that faith does not mean deprivation. The Lord made life for living.”

She nods, her voice barely above a whisper, as her eyes flicker to his. “Is that why you visit brothels, and why those women fight over you?”

He feels his cheeks heat up as she asks this, and suddenly it’s his turn to look away, embarrassed. He takes a moment to consider his reply, not wanting to sully her innocence with vulgarity, or say anything that might frighten her. “I was celibate when I was a monk…” He begins awkwardly. “I’m not anymore. Truthfully, partaking in the pleasures of the flesh feels like the closest experience to meeting God without dying.”

He knows he has turned pink all the way to the tips of his ears by the time he finishes speaking, he cannot bear to look at her for fear of what he might see in her eyes. She must think he is utterly depraved.

The moment of silence between them hangs thick and uncomfortable before she finally breaks it. “If that is why you are fought over…then I am eager to find out for myself.”

His head snaps up, his eyes wide, stunned and unsure of if he has heard correctly, it seems too forward a statement for such a pious little thing like her. However, her stare is steady and unwavering as it meets his, causing his breath to hitch. He hadn’t misheard her and she meant every word.

The cracking of a twig causes them to finally look away from each other, as they turn to see the others returning. He has never been displeased to see any of them before, but can’t help but wish they’d left it a little longer to come back.

Her words play on a loop in Osferth’s thoughts. I am eager to find out for myself. He frantically strokes himself to release that night, once more plagued by visions of her, the silkiness of her hair, her scent, the dulcet tone of her giggle. There is no sweeter innocence in his mind than the gentle sin that he shares with her.

There is a storm the following evening. Though they are camped beneath a thatch of trees, protected from the worst of the downpour, it does little to block out the boom of the thunder and the crackle of lightning. She whimpers at every crash, clearly frightened, and Osferth’s heart aches for her. He’d do anything to make sure the expression of fear and sadness she wore for the first few weeks they traveled together never returns.

He pulls her tight to him, wrapping the furs around them both as they sit around the fire with the others. They don’t bat an eye at the familiarity between the two, understanding of the fact that she finds comfort in a fellow Christian’s presence and that Osferth is simply offering kindness to someone in need of it.

She melts into his embrace and he allows his hands to wander over her beneath the furs, tracing the curves of her through her dress. He has never dared to touch her like this before and she looks up at him questioningly, though makes no move to stop him.

Emboldened by her silent consent, he strokes her hair with his free hand, while allowing the other to push up her skirt. She gasps at this and buries her face in his chest. He holds her tighter while Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric continue their conversation, all assuming she is just startled by the storm that rages above them.

Her inner thighs are velvety smooth as his fingertips trace over the flesh of them. Not even angel’s wings feel as divine as this, he thinks. As the pads of his digits make contact with the gusset of her smallclothes he draws in a shaky inhale at finding that it is damp with her arousal. It darkens the desire within him to have confirmation that she is just as affected by him as he is by her, and he pushes her underclothes to the side, stroking through the slickness of her folds.

She shudders against him, her breathing growing heavier and he quietly shushes her, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. He looks up to see Finan give him a sympathetic smile, clearly assuming Osferth is comforting her, before he is distracted by Uhtred swatting him softly with the back of his hand in order to gain back his attention.

Osferth looks back down at her, she is peeking up at him from where her head rests against his chest and in the flicker of the firelight he can see that her pupils are wide with lust. It is a look he has seen on the faces of many of the women within the pleasure houses he’s visited over the years. To see it burning bright within the eyes of someone so pure is enough to drive him to madness with the desire it awakens within him.

Shielded from view beneath the furs, he circles her pearl with precision, silently delighting in the way she clutches at his robes and bucks slightly up at his hand. He feels she’s growing close when her body tenses against his and she stares up at him, worry evident in how her brows pinch together. Poor thing has never peaked before.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He murmurs, coaxing her to let go.

He cradles her head to his chest as she trembles and gasps against him, before finally going limp. Osferth withdraws his hand, allowing her to slump sleepily against him, smiling softly down at her as her eyes drift closed.

He knows in that moment that she will be both his salvation and his damnation, and he welcomes both with open arms.

It is another week before they are left alone together, and life carries on as normal. They do not speak of what happened beneath the furs on the night of the storm, despite the fact that it’s all Osferth can think about.

The others head away from camp one evening to scout the locations of a possible attack from the Danes. It is too dangerous for her to come along, so Osferth remains behind so she is not left alone. This time she seats herself next to him, and he feels his mouth run dry, heart hammering in his chest as he struggles to think of what to say to her.

He startles when she places her hand on his. “You are right,” She says with a shy smile. “It felt…like something divine…when you touched me.”

Osferth swallows thickly. “You liked it?” He asks, already knowing the answer, but desperate to hear her say it.

She nods, chewing her lip nervously. “I did. Does that make me a sinner?”

His eyes widen in mild horror that she could ever consider herself such. “No, that is something you could never be.”

“I am not repentant though,” She muses, her eyes slowly meeting his. “I have thought of nothing else.”

“That is only natural.” He tells her, suddenly aware of how close their faces are, noses almost brushing. His gaze flits to her lips momentarily. Osferth has never kissed a woman before, though he has fucked plenty; the ones he exchanges coin with do not allow such intimate gestures. He desperately wants to kiss her though.

He is surprised by her boldness when she leans in first. It is a quick peck to his lips, which she rapidly withdraws from, looking sheepish. He cups her cheek, coaxing her back and presses his mouth to hers with more pressure. She softens against the movement and for a moment it feels as though time has stopped for Osferth. There is only her. It is a kiss riddled with youthful inexperience and yet he does not think there has ever been anything better.

“Will you…” She mutters against his lips, clearly uneasy with attempting to ask for what she wants.

“Touch you?” He finishes for her.

“Yes,” She whispers, “I want to feel…” She places a hand over her face, giggling. “I have never laid with a man before. I do not know what to ask for.”

“It’s okay.” He reassures her. “I understand.” Osferth coaxes her to sit on his lap as she had the night of the storm, only this time there are no furs to cover them, and he rucks her skirt up around her hips, rather than slipping his hand beneath it.

“Take these off for me.” He says, plucking at her smallclothes.

She does as he instructs and he pulls her tight against him, her back flush with his chest as his arm snakes around her waist, dipping his hand between her legs. She is wet already and he cannot help the groan that escapes him as his fingers make contact with her core.

He circles her bud slowly and she clamps her mouth shut, cutting off the mewl that threatens to spill forth.

“You don’t have to be quiet this time.” He tells her, as she turns her face into his neck, her breath coming in hot puffs against his skin.

Tentatively he dips a finger into her entrance, conscious of the fact that she has never had anything inside of her before - the thought that he is the first makes him swell painfully hard against her rear as it presses back into his lap. Her grip on his digit as he inserts it is vice-like and he wonders how she’d feel squeezing around the length of him, if she ever allows him to take things that far.

He sets a steady rhythm of dragging his finger against a rough patch inside of her that causes sounds that are prettier than any of the songs he’s heard at æfensang to spill forth from her, while circling her pearl with his thumb.

She squirms against him, her arm reaching above and behind her to wrap around his neck, her fingers scrabble desperately at the back of his robes. Her jaw is slack, her eyes glassy and Osferth believes that if the Heavens could speak then her wanton cries of pleasure would be their mouthpiece.

She falls apart with a violent shudder, clenching ceaselessly around his finger and he withdraws it slowly as she begins to calm, continuing to hold her close. Though he is pleased to have brought her to peak, he feels disappointed that the moment is over so soon. He wants, needs, longer to enjoy her.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispers to her, pressing his face to her hair. “Will you allow me to taste you?”

“Taste me?” She asks, confusion etched across her pretty features. “I do not know what you mean.”

“I will show you.” He tells her, ushering her off of him and laying down. “Come here.”

There is no question in Osferth’s mind that he would ever allow her to lay upon the ground, she is too good for that. He will gladly let her sit atop him so that she never has to experience that indignity or discomfort.

He guides her to straddle him, pushing her upwards towards his face, but she falters.

“Osferth, I’ll crush you!” She protests, hovering above him.

“You won’t, my lady.” He tells her with a soft chuckle, tugging insistently at her thighs.

She relents, hovering over his face. “What are you going to…oh!”

He cuts her off, gripping her outer thighs and runs the flat of his tongue against her centre. He can taste the remnants of her previous climax and hums at the sensation. She is sweeter than honeyed wine, an essence so pure it must be holy.

Tugging her flush against his face he laps at her like a man starved, sucking harshly against her pearl, before licking hungrily through the slick that gathers as she whines and writhes above him. If there is a Heaven then he has found it between her thighs and never wants to leave.

He strains painfully against his breeches beneath his robes as she begins to lose control, grinding against each flick of his tongue. He knows she will not last long, already sensitive from his earlier attention and so he savours each moment; her taste, her scent, the feel of her against his mouth and how she moves against him. She is a vision of beauty beyond comprehension as she sits astride him, thread thrown back, moans of ecstasy offered up to the night sky.

She was created in the image of all things good and pure, and his journey so far has led him to her; she is made for him, of this he is certain as she reaches the apex of her pleasure. He swallows down her release like it’s communion wine. In her gratification he is cleansed, reborn.

Osferth lays her down carefully on her bed roll afterwards, covering her body with his own. She appears almost drunk as she gazes up at him, eyes heavy lidded with a soft smile upon her lips.

“My sweet girl,” He coos to her, softly stroking her face. “Can you take more? Will you let me inside?”

As she opens her mouth to answer, the raucous laughter of Finan can be heard in the near distance. The group is returning.

Osferth moves quickly away from her, laying down on his own sleeping mat, watching her as her eyes flutter closed. He hopes she will dream of him. He hopes they will have further opportunities to explore each other. The Lord works in mysterious ways, and she is the most precious mystery he has yet to encounter.

#osferth #osferth x reader #osferth smut #the last kingdom #TLK #osferth fan fiction #osferth fanfiction #osferth fan fic #osferth fanfic #the last kingdom fan fiction #the last kingdom fanfiction #the last kingdom fan fic #the last kingdom fanfic #ewan mitchell

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froggyfics · 8 months

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The Deadliest Poisons Are The Sweetest - 2

You come face-to-face with your future.

(09/15/23) Note: If you have read this chapter before this date, please note that I have combined chapters 1 and 2 together. This may seem confusing, but I have decided that as a creative approach, I would like the chapters to be longer. This used to be chapter 3, now it is chapter 2.

For those that don't know, the base of operations for the League of Assassins is called 'Eth Alth'eban. The capital of 'Eth Alth'eban in this fic is Gotham. Don't ask me why, it just is.

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Word Count: 1,912

The ride to the capital is long and difficult. The idea of marrying the prince eventually solidifies, but your nervousness increases day-by-day, peaking on the day of your arrival. A long procession greets the several carriages that contain you and your brood. Citizens of the capital have lined the streets, shouting in excitement. Many bang on the carriage to catch a glimpse of the future princess, jerking the vehicle, but hordes of soldiers do well to protect you.

A deep sigh escapes your mouth, which alerts your family to your despondency.

An arm drapes across your shoulder and you look up to see your father embracing you. You snuggle into his shoulder, holding onto his vest, savoring these few previous moments before adulthood comes crashing down upon you.

“How are you feeling?” your mother asks.

You pause to think of a word that could encompass all of what you feel. “Nervous? Scared? Just…surprised, I suppose.”

Your mother tuts in agreement and reaches over to place a comforting hand over your knee.

“Why are you so surprised, little sister? After all, you did accept the prince’s proposal when it arrived,” your brother joins in nonchalantly. “Ow!”

He was met with a smack on his head from your mother. “You fool!” she shouts. “Of course, she accepted Prince Damian’s proposal! Every maiden in the realm did! He is the prince! We would have insulted our monarchs had we not accepted. And besides, who in their right mind would have thought that he would actually agree to this union?!”

He grips his head in pain and shirks further into his seat, hoping to be swallowed by it. For the first time in weeks, you smile genuinely. Within moments however, sadness overwhelms you as you realize that the day is fast approaching when you will no longer be a constant witness to these sorts of shenanigans. Your family will return to your homeland, and you will be left here, surrounded by unfamiliar faces. The happy moment passes, and you revert to your solemn outlook.

The crowd slims down the closer you get to the castle. You gulp loudly, and your father grabs your hand. You gaze up at him in terror of the unknown, but he avoids your face. There is nothing you can do, but sit back against the velvet seats and wait.

The carriage swerves slightly, and you dare to draw back the curtain covering the window, gasping loudly at the sight.

The castle is even more grand and beautiful than you remember. You spent a few weeks at the Al Ghul’s castle when you accompanied your father to the capital as a young child. The memories of those days have long evaded you for years, but they are now coming back with a vengeance.

“Oh, my!” your mother exclaims. Her hand covers her mouth in amazement. She turns to look at you excitedly. “Do you think the wedding will be held here or at another location?”

Before you cannot even open your mouth to reply, the carriage jolts to a stop. You nearly slip off the seat, but your father catches you by the arms. The door opens and the footman once again offers your hand.

You are so nervous that you shake your head at him. “N – no,” you meekly say.

Tenderly grabbing your shoulders, you father whispers, “Yes, my dear,” before gently shoving you towards the exit. You nearly fall off the steps that have been placed in front of the carriage to help with your descent. Your eyes remain glued to the ground as you wait for your family to exit, too.

After your family disembarks from the carriages, the footman announces your presence loudly. You uncomfortably shift as the midday sun bears down on your scalp. The footman announces the title and name of every person in your party and then proceeds to announce the presence of your future-in-laws. King R’as Al Ghul, the Demon’s Head, long may he live. Princess Talia Al Ghul, the daughter of the Demon’s Head, long may she live. Prince Damian Al Ghul, heir to the throne, long may he live.

You busy yourself with memorizing your dress to avoid everyone’s gaze. It is a gorgeous shade of green and black, similar to the colors that were portrayed on Prince Damian’s portrait when you saw it months ago. Golden threads line the sleeves and the belt that hugs your waist is adorned with innumerable pearls. When your marriage was contracted, your mother hurriedly ordered a few dresses for you.

“You are to be a princess, so you must dress like one. No longer are you simply the daughter of a baron,” she told you. Your heart breaks remembering how your father traded in his most prized horses, and your brothers exchanged numerous bushels of fruits to afford you a new wardrobe.

A hand pinching your chin and lifting your head harshly dismisses you from your thoughts. Your eyes widen in remembrance of the woman standing before you.

Talia Al Ghul, your future mother-in-law, stands before you with a cold expression on her face. You saw very little of her when you visited the castle many moons ago. All you could distinctly remember of her was her aloof personality, and her constant complaining towards her household staff.

The awkwardness between the two of you is evident. You curtsy gracelessly, partly due to your nerves and partly due to the grip Talia still has on your chin. Talia responds with a scowl.

“I am honored to be in your presence once more, Princess Talia,” you squeak.

She replies after a few moments. “Well, you certainly look like a baron’s daughter.” She finally releases your chin as a man approaches behind her with salt-and-pepper hair with an intricate crown on his head.

He certainly did not need the crown to display the fact that he was the king, as his confidence and posture exuded royalty and demanded respect. R’as has his hands folded behind his back and his eyes bore into your own. He holds a stern gaze, but there is a sparkle in his eye.

“Welcome to Gotham,” he booms, his voice traveling far. His hands extend outwards in greeting.

Every single person in the immediate vicinity, including yourself, immediately curtsy deeply, a sign of respect for your ruler.

He grabs your arms firmly and forces you up back into an upright position. You silently gasp at his forwardness, but alas, this is the king in front of you. He is one of the few in the realm that does not need to follow social decorum. He is above it all.

He studies you, akin to how his daughter did. You take the time to do the same. This is your first meeting, as you did not catch even a glimpse of the king the previous time you visited the castle.

The king looks incredible for his advanced age. There are a few wrinkles that line his face, but it bewilders you at how youthful he appears. To be fair, you deduce that living a life of luxury, having the best access to healthcare, and having a plethora of food at his disposal greatly contributed to his appearance.

He says nothing else to you and hums to himself when he finishes scrutinizing you. He finally turns to your father and greets him enthusiastically by name.

This is not the way you thought your initial meeting with your in-laws would go. Surely, you did not think it would be perfect, but Talia is too aloof and R’as is too reserved. You can only hope that Damian will act differently.

As R’as moves on to welcome other members of your family and Talia sulks in the background, the subject of the portrait you gazed upon just a few months ago strides towards you. Your eyes widen at the accuracy of the portrait, but the painting did not reveal just how large he was.

He is easily several heads taller than you, and strongly built. His muscles are evident underneath the several layers of cloth and armor. They strain against his clothing and you cannot help but wonder how they would feel in your hands.

Prince Damian approaches you slowly with an unreadable expression. He certainly is a fine specimen of a man. His attractiveness makes you insecure of your own plain appearance. He could never be satisfied with you when he looks like that.

His trademark greens take in your appearance, and it is in that moment that you want the ground to swallow you up. His intense gaze is intimidating and does not break until he holds out his hand towards you. While maintaining eye contact, his hand finds yours, and he bends down.

His lips touch your knuckles softly, and you cannot contain the gasp that escapes your mouth. You blush furiously at the daring demonstration of affection. In front of your family, no less. In front of his family! It is the first time you have been touched so affectionally by someone who was not a family member.

Well, the prince will become a part of your family soon enough, you surmise.

Your name travels out of your mouth, and you almost faint from how lovely it sounded coming from him. His voice is deep, but flows out so smoothly. Just from the way he says it, you clench your thighs together. You have been attracted to many people before, but those were all childish crushes. This man is to be your husband! There is a difference sense of attraction towards him. The idea that he would be yours to love, to touch, and to care, has opened the floodgates for your excitatory thoughts. Is this man truly to your husband? Are you perhaps dreaming?

“I hope the journey to Gotham was pleasant.”

All you can do is nod in response. There is an uncomfortable beat of silence. The horde of people around you awkwardly stare, observing your interaction with Prince Damian.

The only men you were ever allowed to speak with freely were your relatives and staff. You have never seriously held a conversation with an eligible bachelor, let alone someone who would become your husband in just a few days. You cringe internally as the silence lengthens longer than you hope for. Why can you not think of something to say? Anything? Could this be any more humiliating?

Talia exhales loudly to your side.

“Does she not speak?” she spits. “Is that what has been brought to my son, the heir to the throne? The future Demon’s Head? A mere girl who cannot say more than a few words? With no substantial dowry either.”

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes. You have only been in the capital for less than five minutes, and already she despises you. Have you already ruined your chance for marriage?

“She is simply tired from our arduous journey, your Majesty.” Your father attempts to defend your silence. “Speaking of the dowry, you are correct, in that we cannot offer your family what many others can, but we have brought several items that we hope you will enjoy.” He bows deeply to conclude his statement, groveling as much as possible to appease the princess.

“Of course,” Damian adds. “All of you must be tired from the road. Please, come inside.” He extends his arm towards the castle, “I am eager to become acquainted with my lovely bride.”

#dc comics #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x fem!reader #damian wayne x y/n #league of assassins #loa!damian wayne #damian wayne

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asumofwords · 1 year

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: If only there was a way for me to stop being addicted to tension.....

Chapter 18: A Feast of Union

Aemond was sitting at his seat when you arrived back, as was Aegon. Your oldest uncle's lips were pulled into a sly smile at you whilst he sipped on his ale, hair still sticking in different directions. Aegon’s coat was missing from his attire, so that all he wore was a disheveled white dress shirt that was no longer tucked into his pants.

Once you arrived at the table your father was eyeing you like a hawk, shifting his gaze to Aemond and then back to you. You avoided his watchful gaze, instead turning to look at your aunt Helaena, who looked as if she wanted to be swallowed into a hole in the ground.

Your brothers had even turned to watch you cautiously as you picked up your goblet to take a large swig, smiling at them tightly to assure them that you were fine.

You placed your goblet back down on the table as servers began to fill the tables in the garden with large roast pigs and turkeys.

The smell of the meat was overwhelming and your stomach rumbled at the sight. You were excited to continue your night with your family in good spirits, and eat until you became tired enough for bed.

You and your family waited in anticipation for the Queen to say a prayer. Alicent stood from her chair looking out to the tables around you.

“We thank the Seven for guiding us through our mortal lives. Thank you to the Mother for blessing us today and every day with a union such as this…” You zoned out almost immediately, looking down at your hands picking at the skin of the cuticle hoping that Alicent would speed up her prayer so that you could all eat.

The noise of people serving plates brought back your attention. Alicent was now seated and was served a small portion of poultry with fewer green vegetables of all kinds on her plate.

You reached forward to cut away the meat from the leg of a lamb in front of you. The meat was so soft, it fell straight off the bone. The smell was heavenly and you found yourself in higher spirits.

Your mouth watered as you filled your plate, listening to your brothers talking whilst occasionally throwing a small glance at Helaena, who had begun to talk to Aemond in hushed tones whilst her husband Aegon swayed heavily in his chair.

Placing the first piece of lamb into your mouth you felt yourself hold back a moan. The meat was cooked perfectly, and the herbs it was roasted with brought lighter tones to the flavour. The meat melted in your mouth and you ate quicker than you should have, joining in to talk with your family despite having your mouth full.

Picking up your goblet you took a large swig, swallowing the soft lamb before pushing yourself to stand. Your family all watching you in anticipation.

A silence filled the garden as the rest of the guests stopped their meals to listen.

Holding your cup out to Helaena you spoke,

“May we raise our cups to the beautiful Princess Helaena.” People grasped their goblets holding them up towards her, “The Seven surely blessed me with an aunt like you. Prince Aegon is a very lucky man.” You praised, “May your union be long and fruitful. May you be cherished and blessed with more beautiful children together.” You spoke loudly, thrusting your cup forward, as all around you shouted in response.

“Hear, hear!” The garden echoed as you slid back down into your seat, beaming at your aunt who smiled sheepishly at you before drinking from her goblet.

Aegon used the toast to scull the rest of his drink, a trickle of wine leaking down the side of his mouth which he used the back of his hand to roughly wipe away.

At each cup he seemed to sink lower and lower into his seat, much to your fathers delight who giggled at every glance across the table at his nephew.

Princess Helaena stood raising her cup awkwardly, “It's not so bad.” She smiles at you, “He mostly just ignores you..." Aegon's eyes rolled into the back of his head whilst a large giggle could be heard from the other end of the table, Prince Daemon finding delight in his niece's statement, “...except sometimes when he's drunk.”

Helaena finishes her toast response, leaning awkwardly on the table with one arm as she slowly sat down again, the Rogue Prince barely holding a fit of laughter inside from across the table.

You smile at her, raising your cup, a small “Hear, Hear” ringing out through the garden before you both drank in tandem.

Your Grandsire shifted in his seat, grimacing as he moved to stand, small grunts and heavy breaths falling from his mouth. Alicent and your mother watch on in concern, ready to hold him if needed. His one hand held onto the table for support, as he looked across the table at you all.

“It brings me joy,” he heavily breathed, “to see you all here, to celebrate Prince Aegon,” he paused to breath deeper, “and Princess Helaena’s union.” He looked around the table, stopping to look at you, a flicker of a smile on his mouth before he continued. “Though you were not there at the ceremony,” the sickly mans breath became more ragged, as he swayed on his feet from exhaustion, “it means more than you could ever know, that we are all here now.”

Shakily he reached forward for his goblet, body jolting at the loss of support. Both your mother and the Queen shifting with the hands to catch him. His arm shakily grasped his goblet before holding it up, addressing all in attendance, “May they live and grow old together as one.” He called out, voice cracking as he did.

“Hear, Hear!” Came the large call from the patrons in response to their King. Alicent and Rhaenyra helped him to sit comfortably once again as you all watched, quiet agreements coming from all with small lifts of cups.

He looked over you all once more, chest rising and falling jaggedly. His eye shut in pain as he grimaced, bowing his head down panting. You all sat silently as the party continued around you, waiting for him to continue.

“It both gladdens my heart,” he spoke to the table quietly, and your table alone, “and fills me with sorrow,” King Viserys breathed, “to see these faces around the table,” His gaze stopped to look at Rhaenyra lovingly, before turning to his wife.

"The faces most dear to me in all the world,” His chest rose and fell in large puffs, “Had grown so distant to each other in the years passed.”

King Viserys hand reaches up to grab at his golden mask, pulling it heavily away from his face, the sounds of celebration behind telling you that others were not watching.

A large gaping hole sat where his right eye should have been. Teeth could be seen from the side of his face, where his cheek had rotted away into a large wound, revealing the molars inside. Your Grandsire grunted in pain, breathing heavily before looking at all of you, Alicent turning her head down into her lap whilst your mother looked as though she may begin to weep.

“My own face is no longer a handsome one. If indeed it ever was,” He joked, “But tonight, I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king, but your father,” he looked to your mother, “your brother,” Viserys paused to watch Daemon who stared back, eyes soft in the face of his brother's suffering.

The King took a large breath and turned to face Alicent, her head lifting to look at him gently, “Your husband,” His eye shifted to look over your brothers, shortly landing on you, “And your grandsire.”

Your hands twisted in your lap, a lump forming in the back of your throat, all joy being sucked from you as he spoke once more, “Who may not it seems walk for much longer among you.”

Solemnly you looked down, and you felt the energy at the table shift, “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts.” The King spoke firmly, sharply looking across the table, “The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided.”

His lone eye landed on his wife, who looked to Aegon as he boredly played with his shirt. Aemond watched his father with a softened gaze. “Set aside your grievances, if not for the sake of the crown, but for the sake of this old man,” Your Grandsires voice broke as he breathed in painful breaths, looking to you all at the table, “Who loves you all so dearly.”

No-one on the table spoke or moved for a moment, all taking in the King's wishes for peace. Suddenly Alicent’s voice flittered out across the table, “Princess Rhaenyra has promised me to visit the Red Keep more often. She will be coming here on Dragon's back.” She looked to your mother who smiled, bowing her head to look back at her plate. Your Grandsire watched them both intently, as your mother began to slowly tell her father of their plans for the future.

Conversation picked up around the table once more, the mournful energy of the table being lifted as laughter floated through the air.

You excused yourself to relieve your bladder and when you came back, you walked to your Grandsire, kissing his now exposed cheek gently before stepping to the side to hang over your mother and fathers chair, picking at the food on their plates cheekily, wine flowing through you.

Your father leant back in his chair to watch you, as your mother continued to talk with her father and Alicent. A deep sigh was heard from your Grandsire, followed by a grunt in pain, both Alicent and your mother reaching out to touch either side of his shoulders as they whispered to him and each other.

Alicent snapped her fingers outwards, and two guards came to pick up the King’s chair and carry him off to bed so that he may rest. His face turning more pale by the minute as he groaned in pain from his ailment.

You watched as King Viserys was taken to his chambers, golden mask fitted snugly back onto his face as they walked. Low groans and shattered breaths could be heard from him as he passed you and your heart ached in your chest.

All turned away to not embarrass him, returning back to their conversations as though nothing had happened. You did not know why that saddened you more.

"Skoros iksis jāre va rȳ ao se se mēre laes Dārilaros?” (What is going on between you and the one-eye Prince?) He muttered lowly at you, picking up his goblet to drink, eyes watching you over the rim of the cup.

You shake your head, feeling lightheaded when you do making you laugh, “Daorun, kepa.” (Nothing, father.)

“Pār skoro syt kostagon ziry daor gūrogon zȳhon laes hen hen ao?” (Then why can he not take his eye off of you?) The Rogue Prince responded, suspicion lacing his voice.

You looked across the table to see Aemond watching you and your father, goblet in his hand as he lounged in his chair. He sat back, legs spread wide as he watched you both. You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks before looking back to your father, who watched your reaction.

“Kesrio syt ziry vēdros nyke.” (Because he hates me.) You told the Rogue Prince, snatching his cup to take a sip from it before giving it back.

He lets out a guffaw.

“Konir sagon daor vēdros.” (That is not hate.)

“Skorkydoso kostagon ao ivestragon? ziry mērī ēza mēre laes.” (How can you tell? He only has one eye.) You joked, giggling at yourself to which your father smirks.

“Nyke jūndan rȳ aōha muña hae bona.” (I looked at your mother like that.)

“Iksā pirta.” (You’re wrong.) You reached out to grab a slice of potato from your fathers plate, stuffing it into your mouth.

Prince Daemon hummed as he watched you, huffing a laugh when he looked back to see that your uncle had still not taken his eye away from you both.

"I don't think he has blinked." The Prince joked.

"Shhh," You got into your fathers face, "He could hear you."

"And?"

"And, I don't want him to."

"Why?"

"Why what?" You asked.

"Why don't you want him to hear us talking about his wandering eye?" Your fathers head tilted.

"Grandsire asked for peace. I do not wish to poke the bear if I can help it. Mother told us to behave." You laughed.

"Has the bear shown his claws again?"

Daemon ate some potato from his plate as you still leant over him from behind his chair.

"No. He has been oddly pleasant. It's unnerving." You screwed up your face.

“Ossēninna zirȳla lo ziry ōdrikagon ao” (I will kill him if he hurts you.) Your father murmurs, so that only you could hear.

“Kessa daor.” (He won’t.)

"Good."

You popped another slice of potato in your mouth, chewing the soft baked good slowly, savouring its flavour as you smirked down at your father.

A sudden gag came from the other end of the table. You tore your eyes away from the Rogue Prince, only to witness Aegon vomiting down the front of his white shirt. The red wine of the evening, staining the front of his white dress shirt, making it look like blood.

Your head spun to Prince Daemon, hand flying to your mouth to cover the peals of laughter. Your brothers Lucerys and Jacaerys laughed as Aegon stood suddenly, swaying before walking away from the table into the dark, heaving as he did.

Your mother lifted her fingers to her lips, hiding her smile as Alicent watched her drunken son in horror. Your father did nothing to conceal his mirth, laughter carrying out across the garden.

The night was long, and the celebrations continued on even after you had left. You filled your stomach with food and wine, and spent most of your evening talking across the table to Helaena or your brothers, who excitedly chatted amongst themselves.

Helaena became less closed off after Aegon’s exit, even laughing quietly as he stumbled away. His sudden leave causing a sigh of relief from your aunt and the Queen both.

Aemond however surprised you. Though he stayed silent for most of the night, he would softly talk to Helaena or agree with her when she spoke to you, listening in on your conversation. It was unnerving indeed with his sudden shift in behaviour. Perhaps Alicent had given her children a warning before the celebrations too.

The food settled in your stomach and you felt yourself grow weary from the soporific effects of the meal. Excusing yourself from the table you bid everyone a good night, and walked alone back to your chambers, a small sway in your step.

Walking you giggled at the memory of Aegon vomiting on himself and the sheer horror on Alicent’s face. Your giggles turned to bursts of laughter, feeling tears spring to your eyes and your stomach cramping. You had not felt mirth quite like this in some time.

You wiped the tears away from your cheeks and continued onwards, walking past the Godswood, looking up into the branches as you swayed. You were far more drunk than you had thought, and you laughed at even that. Everything became more joyous with every passing second. It was spectacular. The weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders.

The evening's drunken stupor so joyous that once you finally arrived at your chambers you laughed loudly as you recalled the night's events to Saria and Aella who listened and giggled with you as they prepared you for bed.

As Saria brushed the braids from your hair you turned, eyes searching about the room to find Aella, before landing on her small form, bent over your bed as she fluffed your pillows.

“Aella.” You called to her, her back straightening as she walked over to you.

“Yes, My Lady?” She replied, awaiting your command.

“Pour me some wine would you? Just another cup.” You giggled holding your hand out to her, as she brought it over to you.

The sweet breakfast wine touched your lips and you sipped greedily at it. Feeling warmth burn your throat. You did not think that the night could have gone so well, and you were gladdened for it.

You leant against chair, hanging your head over the back looking up at Saria as she manoeuvred her hands around the new angle. Your head sloppily slid to the side as you giggled some more, feeling all too silly.

“Did I tell you that Prince Aegon vomited upon himself at the table?” You laughed, watching Aella and Saria look at each other, “You should have seen the Queen's face! She looked like she was going to be sick herself.”

A loud giggle bubbled up your throat as you sipped more wine, “Or perhaps kill him. She was furious.” You giggled more, draining the cup, beginning to feel the wine make you more drunk and your body heavy.

“I wish you had both been there to see.” You sighed, eyes feeling heavy as Saria brushed out your hair, massaging your scalp as she went.

“Mmm.” You moaned, “That is sooo good.” You giggled again, a hiccup interrupting you, making you laugh more.

“Shall we put you to bed now, Princess?” Aella asked, as she folded your sheets backwards for you.

"I suppose so.” You replied, standing sluggishly, a yawn suddenly escaping you. “Help me undress.” You asked, holding your arms out for balance as Saria and Aella began to undo the top and skirt of your top.

It pooled to your feet, and you stepped out of the dress before stumbling over to the bed naked.

“Did you want us to-“ Aella started but you yawned interrupting her “No, it's too hot.” Before tossing yourself into the sheets, rolling to the side and sighing.

Your eyes slowly slid shut, the alcohol making you sluggish. Yawning again you softly giggled, enjoying the warm fuzzy feeling the wine brought.

“Good night, Princess.” Saria spoke, as she and Aella collected your gown to clean, and quickly tidied the room.

You fell asleep before they even left the chambers, the alcohol dragging you into a deep and heavy sleep. Your limbs felt like lead as the room spun, yet there was nothing but joy inside of you as you quickly drifted to sleep.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl @queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88

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matan4il · 2 months

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Daily update post:

Bibi Netanyahu has now officially said that Israel has killed Hamas' 4th most crucial senior. The top 4 Hamas terrorists are, by Israel's order: Yahya Sinwar (#1), the leader in Gaza, Mohammed Deif (#2), the military leader of Hamas in Gaza, Marwan Issa (#3), Deif's second in command, and Saleh al-Arouri (#4), the military leader of Hamas outside of Gaza and the deputy of Hamas' "political bureau."

We already had reason to think Israel was behind al-Arouri's death, after the Oct 7 massacre (on Jan 2), but now it's confirmed. Bibi's admission comes while everyone's still trying to understand whether Israel has managed to kill Hamas' 3rd most crucial senior, Marwan Issa, on the night between this Saturday and sunday. So far, Hamas is trying to provide proof he's alive, but apparently there's been no contact with him since Israel's strike. If he has been killed, that would make the other two Hamas seniors in Gaza, Sinwar and Deif, far more afraid for their lives, and maybe more willing to show flexibility in releasing the Israeli hostages to save themselves.

Italy has arrested 3 Palestinians for their intent to carry out terrorist attacks. The attacks were meant to be carried out on what Italy referred to as, "foreign soil," Israel is asking for the extradition of at least one. The three were living in Italy for years based on humanitarian visas. They're said to be a part of the al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigades. For those who don't know, this was a terrorist organization that was originally receiving orders and funding from Fatah, the ruling party of the Palestinian Authority, but today it has splintered into separate cells, some still affiliated with Fatah, some operating independently, and some linked to Lebanese terrorist organization Hezbollah. They've been defined by the European Union (which Italy as a part of) as a terrorist organization since 2023. At least some of the al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigades participated in the Oct 7 massacre.

At the Oscars, a director hijacked his own "cerebral" Holocaust movie in order to make a political point, in which he denounced hijacking the Holocaust for political purposes, right before dedicating his reward to a non-Jew (who, as an actual ally to Jews, might not have wanted his dedication anyway, but we'll never know, since she died in 2017. Yep, he hijacked her memory as well for his political message). I just want to share the Oscar winning speech of a Jewish Holocaust survivor and movie producer, who never forgot that when you make movies about this horrific time, it should be first and foremost about remembering the victims. Branko Lustig then dedicated his Oscar for Schindler's List to the Jewish people, by donating it to the Israeli institute of Yad Vashem, the one country in the world where people's access to the memory of the Holocaust will never depend on the good will of a non-Jewish majority. You can see the award when you visit our viewing center, where you can watch tens of thousands of Holocaust survivors' testimonies, and listen to their own voices.

Here's a reminder that most of the Jews who were murdered in or survived the Holocaust, were Zionist, and it's wrong to erase their voices, it's wrong to ignore the survivors who were killed, kidnapped or otherwise victimized by Hamas on Oct 7, it's wrong to ignore that they are still targeted by these terrorists simply for being Jews, and it's wrong to throw them under the bus in a hypocritical speech, which reverses who were the first ones to be de-humanized in this conflict, when they erased our Jewish historical connection to the land, our native right to live in it, our efforts to make peace with the Arabs, and the fact that anti-Jewish violence in Israel preceded by decades the existence of the Jewish state. The violence of Oct 7, of the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust, is a direct result of decades of antisemitic de-humanization of Jews before the conflict even had two sides, and no one has a right to ignore that, or hijack the memory of the Holocaust to do it.

I wrote about Canada, and now Sweden is also resuming its funding of UNRWA, and the European Union is also releasing 50 million Euros (over 54.6 million dollars) for UNRWA funding, despite the fact that nothing has actually been done about the symbiosis between UNRWA and Palestinian terrorism. I have zero faith in the UN self-investigation of its own agency, but not even that has been concluded. By starting the funding again without taking even a single measure to make sure that their money isn't going to anti-Jewish terrorism, these countries are sending a CLEAR message that they do not care about the lives of Israelis and Jews. The idea that they have to, because otherwise how would Palestinians get humanitarian aid, is a fig leaf they're hiding behind. Already, I heard one journalist mention that over 50% of the humanitarian aid is being distributed in Gaza by organizations that are not UNRWA, but more than that, in places which had suffered much worse humanitairan crises, and where the UN had no unique local agency (which is everywhere outside the one conflict involving a Jewish state), the UN has never had trouble establishing temporary aid infrastructure. They had no need for an agency operating in that locale for so long, that it has become a party to the conflict. So why is Gaza different!? Why do the lives of Jews and Israelis not matter enough to search for solutions, proven to have worked before, other than funding a terrorist-embedded organization?

Today is the first day of Ramadan in the Islamic year of 1445. Today I wanna wish a Ramadan mubarak to all peace loving Muslims, who uphold the true peace loving meaning of Ramadan, but my heart and my wishes especially go out to (left to right in the pics below) 53 years old Yussuf al-Ziadna, his son 22 years old Hamza al-Ziadna, and 53 years old Farchan al-Qaddi, the three Muslim Israeli hostages still in Gazan captivity. May they get to be released soon and observe this month together with their families, in their own home, in the true spirit of this holiday.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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bigfan-fanfic · 10 months

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Why Don't You Take a Seat? (Batdad Fanfic)

a one shot where batdad meets ra's al ghul for the first time and they have tea together, talk while waiting for bruce to arrive

"Please, Mr. Wayne. Have a seat." the strange man says.

It's bad enough that all your camera feeds have gone dark, the last you heard over comms from your family being the sounds of combat with mysterious assassins.

"It's not generally customary for the guest to offer a seat to his host." you respond, causing the man to chuckle.

"That is certainly true. And in the same vein, not customary for the host to not know whom his guest may be. I am Ra's al Ghul."

You freeze, the name making your blood run cold.

He... looks far too young to be the same man that taught your husband back when he was training, but it wasn't like people would be scrambling to use the name of the Demon's Head.

"And you know my name, it seems."

"Of course. We have been watching you with great interest."

"That's news to me." you say, thanking your lucky stars that Alfred isn't here tonight - so that if you do end up dying, at least your boys will have a caretaker.

A few more assassins in dark clothing emerge from the shadows, setting up a tea service before vanishing. Seeing no other recourse, you sit across from him, watching as he pours your tea.

"You of course know I am well-acquainted with your husband?"

"Of course." you say, sipping at the delightful porcelain cup. "Though it would seem your daughter would prefer to better acquainted with him."

"I do apologize for Talia. She seems to think I would favor her more were she to produce a fitting heir."

"A fitting heir?

"Archaic terminology, to be sure. Successor would be the better word. For many a year now, I have entreated your husband to be my successor, though his unwillingness to kill makes him... ill-suited."

"And so Talia..."

"Believes that should she and Bruce form a union, they may together bear a child that inherits both of their-"

"That's... not how having kids works."

"Indeed. I personally prefer that my successor show their worth through deed rather than breeding."

"So...may I ask why you've been watching me?"

"Of course. You see, the League of Shadows often examines civilization - which parts of it are worth sparing, and which parts have become too corrupted, too fallen, and must be purged. Gotham is one such city."

You balk at the idea of the League having so much power - more than Bruce had estimated when he told you about them.

"It was Thomas and Martha Wayne who, nigh-singlehandedly, kept this city afloat among the iniquity and vice of its underbelly. When they were murdered, we assumed the hope of the city had been slaughtered with them."

"But who should arrive on the scene but a young upstart with no other connection to Gotham high society but his bosom friendship and young romance with its de facto prince? You, my dear Mr. Wayne, took charge of this city and became its champion. Even among the cesspool of calumny and disdain, you have lit a beacon of truth. The last bastion of such things."

"That can't be true. I'm not the only one doing things to help." you protest. Ra's smirks indulgently, like an uncle tutting at the presumptive modesty of a favorite nephew.

"You refer to your husband?"

"Not solely. There are others trying to make a difference. Like Dr. Thompkins or Commissioner Gordon."

"And yet you are the most notable, and not only does your wealth make you the most powerful, your intellect and tactical mind makes you the one most charged to affect change. I say your wealth, and not your husband's wealth, because as I know it, you have your own standing as CEO of Wayne Enterprises as well as the Wayne fortune."

"You have been doing your research."

"Indeed. The League is no simple assassins' guild, my dear. We guide the direction of the world, in what we hope to be a favorable direction. I have been remiss in the past century, allowing the world to languor this way, what with its global warming and its wars of convenience and profit. I have intended to change it through drastic action, but... you have intrigued me. Perhaps there are... other ways. No great man truly wishes to end the life of another, and should it be rendered unnecessary, our sword can be stayed."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... your way. Gotham has seen a marked turn under your direction and manipulation. Perhaps not an instant one, but a noticeable one. To us, a favorable one."

"So you're saying that Gotham's survival is... totally dependent on me?"

"For now, yes. But that may change. The reason I sent Talia to distract your husband is because I wished to get the measure of you for myself. I admit, I once considered you nothing more than an emotional chain tethering Bruce to foolish sentimentality, but I came to appreciate your tactic. Far less brutal, and one I will also admit I dismissed. I have held a sword for so long, I forgot the utility of other tools."

"So... you want to work with me?" you frown, tilting your head.

"Indeed. We have much to learn from each other, and with the combination of our approaches, we may find a greater progress than we would in conflict."

"Combination of our approaches? You mean killing people?"

"You cannot deny it would be expedient."

"Even if I accepted that, it'd be the wrong approach, even practically! Just killing the people that stand in our way would create chaos, AND it wouldn't guarantee change the way systemic reform would!"

"See why you would be invaluable?" Ra's grins, unperturbed. "However, one could argue that your systemic reform could be hastened by removing those that would prove obstacles to it."

"Or it could jeopardize the movement by giving the opposition martyrs."

"Ha!" Ra's barks out a laugh of genuine delight. "You remind me of someone I once knew. She would never let my mind rest for a moment when she disagreed with me, nor would she let me hide behind pretty words or turns of phrase."

"Sounds like you need someone like that around you." You chuckle, and Ra's smirks in agreement.

"Indeed I do. Will you join the League of Shadows?"

"I hope this isn't the kind of offer that's only got one answer."

"For once, I will accept either answer. A 'no' now may become a 'yes' in the future."

"Then I shall take some time to consider."

"Indeed. I believe your husband is about to join us anyway..."

Ra's seemed a sensible, charming man when you first met him, but it was impossible to ignore how menacing he could be - how many atrocities he had already committed and planned to commit.

Indeed, though he allowed Talia to continue pursuing Bruce, it seemed he tried just as hard to woo you to his side.

In any case, it was never going to be the last time the al Ghul family became a part of your life...

#batdad x bruce #batdad reader #batman headcanons #headcanons #dc headcanons

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