#+a codependent relationship with her little sister

[thesiltverses]

I'm replaying the silt verses, after a replay of eskew, both are just as good the second time round! I've enjoyed picking up little bits here and there, seeing the characters in new lights knowing where they end up, and appreciating the worldbuilding, it's a joy and a comfort!

What's the deal with the familial terms of address in the silt verses? Was it a deliberate part of the language of the world? I noticed it's not just in the faiths (brother Faulkner, sister Carpenter) - Dennis addresses Paige as daughter, Mercer and Gage use sister and sibling, and it seems like these familial terms are preferred over names and used more often than in our world.

Also, I've been thinking about whether Roak's miracles come from the trawlerman at all. I remember in his tape he views the white gull river as dead and lifeless, in contrast with the withermark and the transformed boat which are teeming with life and change. It feels like Carpenter's reaction to them is "you were never like this, my river", and maybe she's in denial or maybe it actually isn't her god. I wouldn't ask for a definitive confirmation or denial, death of the author and all that, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, both in and out of universe

Thank you!

Hey and thank you for listening!

The familial addresses are less worldbuilding, I think, and more about how characters use their familial relationships to pressure and manipulate one another (we know that Dennis was vocally supportive of Paige's transition but also leverages that support to get what he wants out of her, so referring to her as 'daughter' has weight to it; likewise, Mercer and Gage's whole toxic codependent deal is emphasised in how they refer to each other...I'm trying to remember if they're actually confirmed as blood siblings?) In the case of M&G, I think it's also just an efficient way to signal pronouns to the audience.

I think we could have been clearer about it, but Roake's worship is definitely intended as an open question about the nature of the Trawler-man - is this god more complex and multi-faceted than the Parish believes, or are there two different entities being worshipped in the same language? Equally, is the Trawler-man about drowning and death or teeming life, and how can it possibly be both at once beyond theological two-headed paradox?

[the-stray-liger]

Thinks about Zoids!Mia. Giggles to myself

[pepperpixel]

SAID HE LIKES CRAZY GIRLS,

BUT HE HATES WHEN I ACT CRAZY,

IT TAKES TWO TO TOXIC!

FINALLY!!! Finished these pics of jinx I’ve been working on!!!!! HOLY SHIT, these took so long…. But finally… they’re done… pls enjoy this art of my beautiful princess w a disorder. Featuring alternate colors for the big pic and also a closeup! Cuz I rlly like how both the lines and coloring on her face turned out… like the pink gradients w her eye… her deer in headlights expression,, like uve just startled a raccoon digging thru ur trashcan and r two seconds away from getting mauled.. m proud of it!

[cursed-spirit-manipulation]

jjk is about a lot of things but most of all with regard to Shoko Satoru and Suguru it's about how if you don't interact with people who aren't in your weird fucked up school with like 10 ppl total on a regular basis you WILL become an incredibly interesting adult in a way that makes people pity you

[mainfaggot]

just watched challengers at the cinema w my little sister. it was so intense wtf

[specialgradefckr]

tw: explicit content, incest, satoru/reader, satoru/suguru, shoko/reader, codependency, very twisted relationship dynamics, implied abusive/neglectful childhood

suguru had never known what to make of the two of you.

satoru the six eyes and his twin sister. satoru who was his best friend, and you, the girl who looks just like him.

satoru who let suguru bend him over and fuck him until he cried, only to roll off the bed, pulling out his phone.

god. he knew satoru was a dick, but this?

it hurts more than it should. they'd never talked about it, never even called each other friends. he should have figured this wasn't anything special.

but what the fuck is satoru doing on his phone?

"satoru?" he says, trying to sound casual.

everything has to be casual with satoru. low-key. being with him feels like he's coaxing a wild animal. get too close, and he might just bolt.

bolt, only to hit him out of the blue days later with a picture of a candy and a smarmy comment about suguru's taste in food. or his hair. or his power as a sorcerer, or whatever was going through that malfunctioning brain of his.

god, why the fuck does he even like him again?

satoru turns back so suguru can see his smirking face.

god. that was why. the face of a fucking angel, a smile that made his heart skip. why did it have to be on this asshole?

"what, suguru? you feelin' lonely?" satoru drawls.

it's a question he knows the answer to. keep it chill. don't show your hand. don't get too close or he'll get scared.

it aches. "shut up," he says, "i'm just curious who you're texting right after i pulled my dick out of you."

he smirks back when satoru pauses, hesitates.

"who's this person you're thinking about right after you cum?" suguru drawls. he's proud of how distant he manages to sound.

satoru's eyes dart towards him, all ice blue and piercing.

"nobody," he says, setting his phone face down while he pulls on his pants.

he blinks. "what are you..."

satoru ignores his question, strolling out towards the door while waving goodbye. "later, su-gu-ru~"

"but this is -"

before his eyes can furrow, satoru closes the door behind him.

"...your room."

he'd thought that it meant something different this time. satoru always left right after they fucked, he never stayed.

but this is satoru's room. so he'd either kick suguru out, or let him stay.

he hadn't been prepared for him to just... leave. his own room.

what's wrong with him? seriously.

suguru glances at the downturned phone. flips it over.

nee-chan~ (2)

his sister? it beeps.

nee-chan~ (3)

no, don't. i'll ask shoko

you'll ask shoko to do what? satoru has a lock, so he can't see.

seriously, i mean it

after a moment, there's another message.

are you ignoring me, or just busy with him?

don't come over. slut

...what?

the message notification disappears along with the message.

suguru gets a strange feeling.

he looks around satoru's room. he finds some girl's clothes.

does satoru even like girls? they could be yours. he's seen you in his room before.

the strange feeling starts to get. stranger.

there's condoms in here, too, which is weird because satoru has never asked him to use them. or used them himself. he whined when suguru suggested it, actually. asked if he was scared of getting knocked up.

ugh. stupid, insufferable, endearing little shit. he wants to have him in his arms right now.

but it doesn't mater what suguru wants. satoru just left. like he always does, sooner or later.

picking up the phone, he makes his way out. down the hall, towards the girls' dorm.

shoko is already there when he gets there. holding out an arm to stop him.

he raises a brow.

"she's sleeping."

"how do you know i'm here for her?"

shoko shrugs. "why else would you be? saw gojo go in there. anyways, they're asleep now."

"can't be. i was with him just a few minutes ago."

the look she gives him is... strange. everything about this situation feels... off.

he pushes past her, and she sighs.

there's no noise inside, at least. he looses a curse to twist the lock on the door, turn it form the inside.

and it's surprising because - god, what was he expecting?

you're there, curled up beneath the blanket with satoru laying behind you, arms wrapped around you and holding you close.

it's romantic, sure. intimate.

but nothing weird. well, nothing too weird. satoru's always been weird, and you're just like him, so of course you're both weird together. you've always been close. you're his twin sister. what is he thinking?

with a toss, he lets satoru's phone fall onto the floor.

he avoids shoko's gaze as he closes the door and stalks off.

(he doesn't see her anxious glance at the door.)

"he's gone," satoru whispers to you, brushing his thumb over your nipple as you bite your lip.

"shut up," you hiss, putting a hand over his. "i can't believe you did that. why did he follow you? what did you say to him?"

his other hand, threaded beneath your panties, wriggles playfully.

"whaaat? you said you wanted to go to bed. i didn't want to make you wait." he sighs dramatically, "i'm the strongest sorcerer, you know. i need my rest~"

and without you, there is no rest.

as soon as your body is against his, it's like all the tension leaves him. you're there, with him, and everything is all right.

all his worries fade away when he can wrap his arms around you and feel you embrace him in return. mind blank at the soothing sound of your voice. never mind the words you're saying.

"yeah, but do you need to do... this." you say fruitlessly. "you could have come later."

"didn't wanna come later," he kisses your shoulder, "wanted to see you now."

you wriggle in his arms, too wide and too strong to escape, even if you wanted to.

it's enraging. it's gratifying. you don't know what it is, and never have.

he must have been fucking suguru. and after he got his, he came to you.

should you laugh, or cry?

"i could have asked shoko." you mumble almost miserably.

but a sigh escapes you as he fondles your breast. satoru always knows how to make you feel good.

maybe not as good as shoko does, but you're still nice enough not to say that to his face.

"what? to sleep with you?" satoru scoffs, "you can't sleep without me, either."

neither of you have ever slept alone, not a single night in your life.

not even when you were deathly ill and the clan begged the precious six eyes to stay away and not catch your sickness.

satoru had stayed by your side the entire while. held your hand while your head pounded and your body ached. wiped your tears when you cried.

because you were very young, and very sick, in more pain than you'd ever felt before. you had honestly thought you were going to die.

there had been no servants, no mother or father or caretaker. only satoru holding you close, lifting you to drink some water and medicine. telling you that you couldn't die. he wouldn't allow it.

and to your child's mind, that had been reassuring. your brother never left you. your fever broke and you were okay, just like he said you would be.

now, you know better. now you know satoru would lay in bed with people who weren't you, even if he always came back (for now).

now you knew what it was like to have someone else by your side.

(but was it enough? could it ever be enough? could it ever be what you have with him?)

"i'll never know until i try." you turn in his arms to face him, and he allows it.

blue eyes. beautiful, beautiful blue. a pretty face. almost as pretty as shoko's.

you've been learning, lately. you used to think of the mole on her cheek as an imperfection, the cigarette smoke a bad habit.

now? you still think it's a bad habit, but the mole is charming. and you don't hate the smell as much because shoko took you out shopping for perfume.

she asked you which one you liked the most, and bought it for herself. she wears it every friday when you have your girls night out with utahime.

where you get drunk enough to make out with her until she brings you back to the dorm, kissing and fondling and touching.

she asks you if it's okay. asks you how you like it best. asks you to touch her this way, that way.

it's not like how it is with satoru. but she makes you feel good, makes you happy. she wants you to feel good. when you cry she kisses your tears away, like she knows better than to ask but wants to comfort you anyways.

when was the last time satoru tried to comfort you?

"hey," satoru breathes into your ear, pulling your panties down, "c'mon."

when you think of her, your heart flutters. when you think of satoru, your stomach flips, and your whole body aches.

you don't know what love is. you don't think satoru does, either.

otherwise, why would he ever leave geto's arms? when he's so obviously head over heels for him?

you clasp one arm against his chest as you reach down, stroking his cock to hardness. geto must have made him cum (satoru has never made you cum). must have fucked him.

satoru rolls you so you're on top of him.

his shirt is off, baring his lean, muscled chest. your brother, your strong, handsome, beautiful brother, looking up at you with wandering eyes and greedy hands.

your hands are equally greedy. running over his chest, ghosting over his nipples until he shivers. oversensitive. he always is after he's been with geto.

satoru's got a condom out already. he slips it on, leaning forward and pinning you down beneath him.

he doesn't have to use condoms with geto. he doesn't have to be the one on top all the time, either. geto can fuck him. he must like that.

geto's a special grade sorcerer. geto's a man. he's not his sister.

his cock is sliding up and down against your entrance, wetting the condom as he nips at your breast.

he always leaves marks like this, but never where anyone can see.

does he leave marks on geto?

"do you like him more?" you mumble, anxiety swirling in your gut. your lower half is a hot swirling pool of need, leaking for him.

and he inches in, making you whine, making you claw marks into his shoulder. you hope geto sees them.

satoru groans, low and throaty. it always feels like coming home when he's inside you. a perfectly matched lock and key.

his hand threads through your hair. you're so beautiful, so fucking beautiful. he'll admit he's a vain bitch, but who wouldn't be? looking like the two of you do.

maybe one day he should get you to dress up like him. wear a strap and fuck him, that'd be fun.

for now, you're warm and soft and perfect for him. so comfortable. and you're rambling about stuff that isn't important.

"what," he murmurs, breathy from the warmth of you around him, "who?"

if the frustration shows on your face, he can just fuck it away.

"geto." the name is swallowed by a swift thrust, hands planted on your hips.

you wish he'd touch your clit more (you never ask). you wish he'd answer your question (you're afraid to push). but your brother just doesn't think about other people.

"c'mon," he whines, "don't talk about some other dude. you're with me."

"you were with him."

"so?" he thrusts in harder, stealing your breath, like that'll win him the argument, "you're fucking shoko."

satoru fucks you breathless, then. pumping in and out so quickly that the friction has you shuddering, shivering, close enough that you finally start to squeeze around him.

it's always like this with him. you feel like you're drowning, helpless. all you can do is cling to him.

"satoru," you hate how pitiful your voice sounds, "satoruuuu...."

he's hitting you, so deep and so hard it hurts, pierces through the breathless haze and leaves you clenching around him.

"please," your breath escapes you with his next thrust.

please don't leave me. don't abandon me for him. don't discard me now that you have someone better. don't leave me all by myself...

tears dot at your eyes, squeezing around him. satoru's own eyes are wide and wild, his hips shoving into you staggeringly fast.

"i got you," he says, close, so close, "i've got you."

another deep thrust, painful as it is pleasurable, bruising and fast like his fingertips on your hips. he swallows your moans with a kiss.

he thinks he can eat up all your complaints, all your anxiety. hide away from his own by nestling himself in your body.

you don't want anyone but him, right? he's the only one who touches you like this.

the way you squeeze around him, the way your body feels against his, no one else gets that from you. shoko couldn't do this for you. no one could.

you say his name again and he's ready to burst. you love him always. you're so good for him. you make him feel good just by being there.

a part of his life. a missing limb. his precious sister, his beating heart, right there against his chest.

"there," satoru pants, "fuck, there, cum for me, baby..."

it's tears you blink away when he gasps and cums, burying himself inside you with a wounded sort of whimper.

you never do, when it's him. to be fair, you've never done it to yourself, either.

you only ever came when shoko fucked you. but fucked is such an ugly word for how gently she touched you, how soft she smiled.

"satoru," you whine again, "do you like him more than me? i like you more than shoko..."

satoru doesn't answer you. his hands move from your bruised hips to wrap around you, pull you close, plant kisses on your head.

"you know," he mumbles out your name. "you know."

there's a flash of rage. irrational.

he won't say it. he won't even say it. satoru will fuck you, his own sister. cling to you like he needs you to survive, sleep with you every night of his life.

but he won't say he loves you more than geto. he won't even say he likes you.

and you know - because you know him like the back of your hand, you were born with him, you spent every waking moment of your life with him until you came to the school - you know satoru loves you.

but he loves you like he loves air. it's always there. always accessible. it's not like the air will suddenly leave.

you curl into satoru's muscled chest, let him embrace you closer, sink into the silence that's only comfortable for him.

maybe there's something you can do about this.

[demilypyro]

Surge and Kit's partnership is very interesting to me. Obviously Starline designed them to work well together, and he specifically conditioned Kit to be subservient to Surge, but their relationship seems to have blossomed into one of genuine mutual trust and camaraderie, while Starline intended them to practically be master and slave.

When they were introduced, Kit was a lot quieter, and Surge would generally disregard him, or berate him when he spoke out of turn. Kit seemed very fearful of Surge's outbursts.

As time goes on, however, regardless of her assigned leader role, Surge seems more and more like she genuinely values Kit's intelligence, and she will often turn to him for guidance and strategy. Kit, meanwhile, has become a lot more prone to speaking his mind, and isn't nearly fearful of Surge as when he was introduced.

Surge has become a lot kinder to Kit, often petting him and calling him by the affectionate nickname "Drippy." She also regularly confides her feelings in him.

Their relationship has ended up much more like a big sister and little brother. They banter, look to eachother for comfort, and have eachother's backs. Mimic wasn't really wrong when he called them codependent, but there's a genuine fondness here, born from shared trauma.

Ironically their cooperation ended up being far better than it probably would have if Starline's plans had gone the way he hoped. Rather than just brainwashing, their shared desire for revenge brought them together. You can't program that.

It looks like a coming arc might drive a wedge between them, but I kinda hope they just end up better friends in the end. Sometimes found family is your fellow test subject who you got kidnapped and tortured with.

[erwinsvow]

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

summary: how you and rafe got started <3

author's note: if i could stop losing my brain cells over rafe cameron for a minute that would be great but i can't so here it is <3 this is mostly cute but in the shea cinematic universe this establishes the beginning of what can only be a hopelessly codependent relationship <3 more parts to come! also none of this would be written without the surge of inspo i get from reading every single one of @princessbrunette's posts but in particular this one, this one, and this<3 one!

now spinning: one of the girls by the weeknd & jennie

Rafe’s always thought you were cute. 

Cute, he’d think to himself in passing, on a hot summer day when he was getting ready to take beers from the fridge and go find the boys at the country club. He didn’t need to steal anything, the waitress at the club always gave him whatever drink he asked for, but he just felt like taking them from the house today. 

You were dawdling around the house with a bored Sarah, all dressed up with nowhere to go. Sarah was texting on her phone, likely engaging in a virtual fight with Topper. He’d feel bad, but the two of them did it to themselves. You were at the counter with Wheezie, leaning on your elbows while the two of you discussed something. He didn’t really care, until he met your eyes for a second. 

Cute. The way you met his eyes and then looked away, face heating up. You were in a bikini and a coverup, probably waiting for his sister before spending the day on the beach or at the pool. The cover up was white and see through, covering everything to the point where no one could see anything but the faint yellow of your bikini underneath.

Leaning on the counter, when you looked away, he got a glimpse into the top of your dress. He could make out little yellow flowers on the material of your bikini and the outline of your tits squeezed against each other. 

He grabbed a beer and opened it with his back tooth, spitting the cap out on the counter next to Wheezie’s book.

“Ew, Rafe, get your spit molecules away from my book.”

“Who reads in the summer anyways? You should be glad for my spit if it makes you stop.”

“It’s my summer reading, Rafe, not everyone can just skip their assignments and get away with it.”

“Please, what have I skipped?”

You and Wheezie turn to look at each other and start laughing. He cracks a smile too, unexpectedly.

“Actually, it’s a great book. You’re missing out, Rafe,” you say, with a smile gracing your face, and he realizes he’s never actually heard the sound of your voice. You’ve maybe said hi to him twice, and both times Sarah had dragged you away within seconds. You even sound cute. His name on your tongue sounds even cuter.

“Really? Maybe I need to give it a try.” You laugh again, meeting his eyes this time. 

“You can’t have my copy, I already put my annotations in this one-“

“Stop yapping, Wheeze. I’m not gonna take yours.”

“Actually you have a copy in the library upstairs. I borrowed it last summer.”

“Really, kid? Wanna come find it with me?”

Your face heats up so much you turn away. He smiles then, and he smiles again when you follow him up to the library.

“This one is fantastic too, it’s about this young girl in England-” your voice continues to describe the plot of the book in your hand. You shelve it and then your eyes immediately land on another, another classic, another favorite. You ramble off the description but Rafe’s hardly paying attention.

He’s trying to recall when you had become so cute, so pretty. He thinks he’s never noticed you after you walk away with Sarah, or when he walks away from you two lounging on pool chairs, your nose in a book like always.

This is different. When had you become so irresistible?

Your pretty hair falls down your back. It sticks to your neck when the two of you are outside in the sun, in the heat. He has an urge to lick the sweat off just to see how you’d blush and feel how you’d squirm. Your eyes are warm and bright, but you’re still too shy to meet his blue ones, even when it’s just the two of you.

And it has been. Just the two of you, recently, almost all of the time. Sarah’s always off with her stupid friends and Wheeze is at home doing her summer work. 

The two of you travel to every ice cream parlor in the eight in the next few weeks. Conversation comes easily, even though you have nothing in common. He hasn’t picked up a bag from his dealer since he started talking to you, he realizes. Hasn’t felt the need to get high.

You’ve never even smoked weed, much less snorted coke. You’ll drink at a party with Sarah, but not too much, and you always end up being the sober friend holding back the vomiting girl’s hair. At the bonfire that he invites you to, your eyes keep darting around, seeing if anyone needs your help. 

Rafe moves so he’s standing right in front of you, blocking your view.

“Hey, kid,” he says quietly, leaning in. You’re boxed in, with Rafe and only Rafe on your mind. The clean, attractive scent of his cologne. The way it lingers on his clothes, like the button up you’re wearing over your pink dress.

He picks up the red cup in your hand and places it on the log beside you, balancing his beer next to it. His hands are cold from the bottle but you don’t mind much. He takes your wrists first, holding them in place, and then slides down so your hands are touching. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You were looking down at the hands, where the two of you were connected, but his voice makes you look up. He’s looking at you, and you want to hide your face. Your fingers twitch beneath Rafe’s grip. He holds on even tighter. “Don’t look away, princess. We gotta work on that, huh?”

You feel your face heating up at the nickname. You wish you were home so you could scream into your pillow.

“Sorry, sorry,” you scramble, trying to look up but you can’t find the strength or the will.

You’re embarrassed. Of course you are—this is Rafe, and you’re just you. Rafe is the one you’ve had a crush on since you knew what crushes were, and you are still the awkward little thing you were the first time you met him. 

His gaze burning holes through you makes you want to run and hide. Because this is Rafe, and right now you’re one of his girls. The ones Sarah’s complained about the whole time she’s known you—they get too attached, act all clingy, and then are replaced before long. 

You hear Rafe’s quiet laughter. You’re still boxed in, feeling hot and clammy even though he’d given you his button up not thirty minutes ago because you felt cold. 

“What’re you saying sorry for?” You look up quickly, and then look back down. Then Rafe’s hands leave yours, and he holds up your chin until you’re looking right into his eyes. “Hmm?”

You feel like puking. 

“I-I just, well I just-”

“You just what?”

“I don’t think I can be, um, be one of your flingy, uh fling-type girls. So, you know, maybe all of this isn’t a good idea.”

“Fling-type girls?” he questions. He’s holding back a laugh, which makes you irrationally upset. You shove hard against his chest to free yourself from the cage of his arms. 

“Yes, your fling-type girls. You have a new girl on your arm every week, and everyone knows it, and I refuse to be one of them, because it’s just embarrassing and dehumanizing,” he watches you ramble on. He smiles, but you don’t notice. “And frankly, I deserve better than that.”

“Are you done?” You glare back at him.

“Yes, and not because you said that. I was done anyway.”

“Good.” Your face drops for a second, thinking you overstepped and totally overreached regarding his intentions, but then Rafe surprises you—he leans in and kisses you. 

You weren’t expecting a playground peck, but the way he’s kissing you completely surpasses any and all expectations (and fantasies) you’d dreamt up. His grip on your hips is hard, and his tongue is almost down your throat. It’s messy, and wet, and when he pulls away, there’s strings of spit connecting you to each other. 

You should wipe your mouth before anyone sees, but you don’t. Your heart is racing, and you can barely speak, much less move. 

“If I wanted you to be one of my girls, I wouldn’t have spent the last three weeks listening to you blab about books and buying you ice cream. You’re gonna be my only girl, and that’s that, okay?”

You nod dumbly—words and motions still not quite back yet. You feel flushed. People’s eyes are on you both.

“Now, do you wanna head out and go get a cone?” You nod again. “Good girl. And watch your mouth.”

[ekingston]

also on ao3.

“Would you stop fondling my boobs?” Lena hisses, watching as a man nearly wanders into traffic staring at what looks like Lena Luthor, elbow-deep in her own cleavage. He swerves, promptly face-planting into a lamp post when he sees Supergirl herself slap Lena’s hand away. “We’re in public,” Lena reminds her.

“Ouch,” Kara yelps. “Gentle!”

“Sorry,” Lena says. But she only feels a little bad, because at least Kara is now cradling her arm instead of getting Lena arrested for indecent exposure.

Kara is still squirming when Lena checks them in, the receptionist beaming at her in a way Lena has never been beamed at before. Dr. Sattler’s ready for them. Kara gives Lena a last, panicked look, and then she takes the therapist’s offered hand and introduces herself.

“Lena Luthor,” Kara tells Dr. Sattler with a lopsided grin. “Good to meet you.”

“And Supergirl,” Dr. Sattler says, turning to Lena, her gaze briefly flitting down at the S on Lena’s chest. “How wonderful you managed to finally come in.”

Kara flops down onto the couch with a grateful sigh, the skirt of her dress gapping immodestly as she kicks off Lena’s heels. Lena nudges her legs to close them, annoyed. The injustice of Kara getting to act as if she wants to be here. As if she hasn’t been avoiding this visit for months.

(Do we really need to do this? Kara had asked Lena just this morning. Kara’s gaze had been a cross-eyed, sparkling green as Lena applied her eyeliner with a trembling, freckled hand.

Lena had growled in response, knowing even the barest bit of unintentional pressure could blind her for life. We’re not going to cancel just because we’re wearing each other’s bodies, Kara. Hold still.

I bet you’d look good with an eyepatch, Kara had breathed, after which Lena had given up on the endeavor altogether.)

“Your work must keep you busy,” the therapist says magnanimously.

Lena huffs out a laugh. “You can say that again.” And when the Dr. looks at her, curious, “Being a superhero and all that. Always off saving the world!”

“That goes for both of us,” Kara points out. “You—I—don’t even make it to bed, most nights.” And then, softer, “Even when you tell me you’ll wait up.”

“I wish I wouldn’t.” Lena turns to the therapist and explains, “I eat when I’m bored. She comes home to a bed full of crumbs. Who wants to have sex when the sheets are littered with bits of Captain Crunch?”

Dr. Sattler opens her mouth to answer, but Kara doesn’t give her the chance. “Maybe I could make an effort not to be such a neat freak,” she pouts.

Lena’s eyes flash. “Maybe I could make an effort to wash my hands after I use the bathroom,” she snaps back.

Kara sits up. “You do!” she shouts. “You’re just quick about it!”

Lena sighs. “The laws of nature don’t work that way, darling.”

Kara makes a face Lena vows never to make again if she ever gets her body back. “I leave my hair in the shower.”

Lena snorts. “I wash it down the drain. That’s worse.”

“But you fix it!” Kara looks at her with Lena's own wide, pleading eyes. “That’s how—how you show love. By fixing things.”

“Wrong,” Lena flings back. “I break them, so I can feel needed.”

Kara blinks at her, looking hurt.

“That’s.” Dr. Sattler pauses for a moment. “Some very impressive self-reflection,” she decides.

Lena smiles at her, glad they’re getting somewhere.

Kara looks from the therapist to Lena, her blood red lips—easier than eyeliner—pinching together with uncanny chagrin. “I faked my own kidnapping to get out of her family’s Thanksgiving,” she accuses darkly.

Lena sniffs. “I have a codependent relationship with my sister.”

Kara gasps. Dr. Sattler’s eyes widen. Lena arches an eyebrow with considerable effort.

“Oh yeah?” Kara sputters. “Well,” she flails, her nostrils flaring. “You—" she takes a deep breath. "I have mommy issues.”

Oh, fuck no. That's too far. “You do not,” Lena squawks.

"No?" Kara cocks her jaw in a way that makes Lena feel, for the first time, a little sorry for the men she’s similarly stared down. “Let’s find out,” Kara says with the smallest of smirks, and then she retrieves, horribly, from Lena’s purse, Lena’s phone.

“You wouldn’t,” Lena whispers, her heart stopping.

Kara jumps up with surprising agility, dancing out of Lena’s reach. “This’ll just take a second,” she promises Dr. Sattler. “Hello? Mother?”

Lena scrambles over to the other end of the couch, practically throwing herself across the room in an effort to get to Kara.

“No reason,” Kara croons into the phone, grinning as she maneuvers herself away from Lena’s grasp. An elaborately painted and unfortunately placed vase isn’t so lucky. “Just calling to say hey,” Kara says. “It’s been a while, huh?”

Lena really should have taken Kara up on her offer to help Lena master her power of flight. “Don’t make me hurt you,” she yells.

“It is!” Kara sing-songs. “Still going strong, yup. Which is why I called! We were wondering—”

“Don’t you dare,” Lena hisses, clawing for Kara’s shoulder and exploding a couch cushion instead.

“—how would you feel about coming to our wedding?”

Lena freezes, flecks of stuffing falling around them like snow.

“Excellent!” Kara chirps. “We'll see you there.”

Dr. Sattler clears her throat. “I don’t think you two have anything to worry about,” she says. “Your communication style is—unique, but obviously effective.”

Kara beams at her as they're leaving, wearing a deeply pleased expression Lena didn’t even think her face was capable of making. “You really should start wearing more comfortable bras,” she says, rolling her shoulders. “Also maybe take up yoga.”

Lena hums. “You’ve never had any complaints before.”

Kara stops and stares at her, aghast. "Is that what I look like when I'm coming on to you?"

Lena grins at her. "Why do you think I'm marrying you?"

Kara giggles.

- - -

This was written for the multi fandom (and original!) flash fiction challenge, using the prompts ‘established relationship’, ‘at a therapist’s office’, ‘body swap’ and ‘an eyepatch’. You should give it a whirl!

[kifkay]

Winx & Specialists Dynamics that are so Precious to me

it makes sense that in the show, winx and their non-boyfriend specialists don’t interact much. but!! i’m very insane about codependent found families, and I want them all to love each other. so here’s my take on some tet-a-tet dynamics:

rare pairings:

Musa & Timmy: childhood frenemies. they used to go to the same middle school on Melody, and as type-A tweens do, had an intense, “you’re the only person I match myself to” kind of rivalry. they lost contact after Timmy moved away, chilled out considerably, reconnected in Alfea and had a wonderful banter-filled friendship since. because of how fast they slotted back into a friendship, some of their classmates genuinely thought they were siblings.

Tecna & Riven: got up from a rough patch. from “I dislike you but we both love Musa, so we have to be civil” to “you have more depths to you than I expected” to “now that I understand you, I can’t help but admire certain things about you” to “bitch, you are the only person who is as weird and clueless as I am, ARE YOU READY TO GO TO THE ARCADE AND ANNIHILATE KIDS FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES”

Flora & Brandon: little sister, older brother vibes. of similar temperaments and views, they enjoy spending time over a cup of tea — talking about everything and nothing. it’s therapeutic, almost.

(no one in the group knew that Brandon and Flo were good friends. once, when the two had to team up during a mission, Bloom couldn’t even finish saying: “it would be a good opportunity for you to get to know each ot-“, before the specialist-fairy duo were re-creating the most complicated and choreographed hand shake ever. jaws were on the floor.)

Aisha & Brandon: they are sporties, and they like doing sport things together! they don’t talk aside from exchanging brief encouragements and advice while out, preferring to spend their time in companionable silence. sorta like those dads who never talk to their buddies, but somehow have the strongest and longest bonds ever?

Helia & Bloom: artist besties. Bloom drags Helia out on picnics, where they practice observational drawing (and tiktok trends that Bloom desperately wants to reenact but none of the winx are good at arts); Helia responds by taking her out to see art museums in Magix. it’s a fun dynamic of Bloom being the bubbly gold retriever, and Helia being her black cat.

Tecna & Sky: they didn’t have much of a relationship until year 4. somehow, they both got really, intensely into weaponsmithing and built a joint workshop. they found that they enjoy working alongside each other and value each other’s insights. sky goes to tecna when he needs frank, un-sugarcoated advice, and tecna accompanies sky on hikes and other spirited adventures, for “bonding activities” (because he told her she doesn’t get out of her comfort zone enough). it’s a relationship of deep mutual respect.

Sky & Stella: childhood friends. they knew each other as children and enjoyed playing together (which is how Stella also knew Brandon pre-Red Fountaine). at least, until Stella was unofficially banned from Eraklyon because shenanigans, and they lost contact. they still jokingly call each other “My Lady” and “My Lord”.

Stella & Nabu. Both are flirty and extroverted people, who enjoy the spirit of showmanship. They have a friendly rivalry going of who can fluster the villain of the week the fastest.

canon bf-gf dynamics (dating in canon, open to interpretation otherwise):

Bloom x Sky: liked each other since the first meeting; bonded over being the friend group moms. (on unrelated note: bloom gentle parents her friends, while sky goes all exasperated cig mom on his team and repeats things like: “you better go to sleep right now, or so help me Dragon I will take away your Owl pilot privileges-“)

they are not the most outwardly affectionate couple of the winx, yet they are so wordlessly devoted to each other. sky will follow bloom to the ends of all dimensions, when she gets a calling from powers as mystical as she. bloom will always believe in him and see him as his own man, unlike the many who see him only as his father’s son. they were entwined by fate, long before one had met the other; yet, there’s the trust, the respect, the faith so strong — that could have only come from friendship forged and tested by fire.

Stella and Brandon: the hottest power couple; sole reason behind 60% of all student fairies/specialists/witches queer awakening.

they banter all. the. goddamn. time. these dorks are speaking a whole different language.

they are also most comfortable in each other’s company, being able to be their genuine, less polished selves. stella and brandon are both performers bred and born, playing the roles of a noble princess and a knight. it’s nice, to have a safe reprieve from all that acting.

Aisha and Nabu. their love was one that sneaked up on them. their distance, set by a discomfort at the idea of an arranged marriage, bridged as they transitioned from being reluctant comrades to friendly rivals to unwilling friends to best friends to “if someday the moon calls you by your name, don’t be surprised — because every night I tell her about you”

Tecna and Timmy: partners in crime, ride or die, sunny faith in each other — even when the other person doesn’t believe in themself. I have a whole post about them, go read that ;)

Flora and Helia: they are so. they are. they-

icons. the most romantic couple, the one that sets the standards, the one that gives their friends advice. they are extremely attentive to each other’s needs and tender with each other’s feelings.

flora can recite helia’s poems in her sleep, and trace his drawings with her eyes closed. helia brings mielle presents every time he stops by. flora has tea with helia’s dad every other tuesday; she keeps note of every time helia and saladin are supposed to meet up, to be able to whisk helia away after and distract him from his troubles. helia knows how to care of flora’s plants, and sends her lovingly assorted gift baskets semi-regularly.

Musa and Riven. their relationship is push and pull, is joy then sorrow.

it’s all in a drag of a cigarette, in the vortex of a starless night, in the hoarse laughter. “of all the people in the world, why did it have to be you?” she’ll say and smile.

“ I’m afraid we’re doomed, lover,” he’ll reply, faux-casually, and smile back. both of them will know it’s the truth.

their relationship was not built to last, not for the lack of love or try. maybe they were too similar — both headstrong, unbending, bleeding hearts. maybe they were just different enough not to understand their hurts. nevertheless, it was not built to last — but neither of them would ever bring to regret it. love prevails, no matter in what form in comes, or something like that.

[aereasrage]

The Favorite pt. 3

summary: Most curiously, princess reader’s children seem to bear a striking resemblance to a certain prince who is not her husband…

cw: codependent mother-daughter relationship yk the drill, pregnancy, childbirth, religion, gaslighting, incest, masturbation, blasphemy, unprotected sex (i feel like that might be redundant because is there any other way to fuck in medieval times?), jace and reader being westerosi romeo and juliet

notes: honestly, the ages in hotd are so confusing that most of the charts/breakdowns i’ve seen make very little sense so for the purpose of this fic, i’ve just decided to age everyone up a lil so jace is intended to be around 19-20 years old as is reader. also for jace x reader purposes, rhaenyra never left for dragonstone, though her and daemon still married and had their children.

part 1 | part 2

word count: 4.1k

Each time you were pregnant, Alicent found herself so filled with worry that she went to the sept daily to pray. She spent much of her time at your side, sharply commanding the servants to care for you in a way which would meet her meticulous qualifications. She wore her hair braided up simply, her clothing free of embellishment save for her golden seven pointed star; appealing to the Mother in humility, not to take her daughter away from her.

You were with child again, your third. Your marriage to Aegon had indeed been fruitful, for you were blessed with two sons, Aemon and Baelon. Both born healthy and squalling with...dark brown hair. But though Alicent had been briefly taken aback by how your sons looked, she quickly regained her composure. She would not dare suspect you of being anything but loyal to Aegon. She rationalized any unsavory possibilities away, for there was no reality she could fathom in which you would be unfaithful to Aegon, no reality in which you would stray from your mother's guidance so much. She had even watched you complete your duty with resignation and obedience, how could she ever see her sweet daughter as being a whore?

Alicent had been at your side throughout your labors, too anxious to be anywhere else. When she had seen you hold your firstborn son in your arms, teary eyed and thanking the Mother, she knew could never think so poorly of you. Your face, she was certain, was the very image of the Mother.

Rhaenyra, however, was not convinced. The way her eldest son looked at you, seemingly gripped in a trance when you were near, the way his hands twitched slightly whenever you were within grasp coupled with your children being born looking exactly as her three brown haired boys did...it was quite funny to her, honestly. So much grief over her sons and now with you having what were obviously her grandchildren, not a single word. She liked you well enough and obviously she had no intentions of putting her own grandsons in danger but she simply wasn't going to let the situation rest without pointing out the hypocrisy.

At the end of a small council meeting, the lords filed out of the room but Rhaenyra stayed behind, her gaze fixed on Alicent. As the room emptied, Alicent begrudgingly stayed behind as well, having a vague sense of what would come next.

"I wished to congratulate you on becoming a grandmother once more," Rhaenyra started. "Though I do wonder if this will be the time my sweet sister bears a child who resembles her husband."

Alicent drew a sharp breath, steeling herself. Immediate anger would only draw further insult. "What you insinuate is filth."

Rhaenyra could only laugh at how deeply Alicent's delusion went. "Come now, Alicent. Even a lackwit could answer the question of your grandsons' parentage. I seem to remember your mind being sharp enough to make suppositions on the father of my sons. Have you not opened yourself up to this?"

"My daughter is a good wife. She is not so slattern to find herself in bed with your...son while being married to mine." Alicent restrained herself from saying what she truly wished. She would not stoop so low and open herself and her daughter to attack.

"Really, Alicent, how long do you think you can keep this up? Who do you believe you're fooling?"

"Their grandsire's hair was dark brown in his youth, my daughter's hair is an auburn, a reddish brown just as mine is," Alicent stated indignantly and all Rhaenyra could do was stare blankly back at her. This couldn't possibly be the woman so fixated on the truth of her sons’ paternity, couldn't possibly be the great devout of the seven, the woman devoted to the virtues of duty and honor and sacrifice. She wasn't sure why it surprised her so much, it wasn't as if she didn't know those spiteful fanatics were all hypocrites. But somehow, given the way Alicent was with her children, she believed that she'd at least have shame enough to try and cover it up, have the children fostered away from King's Landing, stripped of their names, forgotten. Instead, Alicent was standing more firmly on her daughter's virtue and the parentage of her grandchildren than even Rhaenyra had for her boys. Even Rhaenyra did not fool herself as Alicent did.

She had originally planned to offer a marriage again, thinking that Alicent would be tempted to concede this time but seeing that look in her eyes made her second guess. Alicent was truly too madly in love with her youngest daughter to acknowledge what was right before her. She would never agree to annul the marriage between her and Aegon, she'd never sacrifice her daughter's virtue in the eyes of others even if it would spare all of them the grief of perpetually silencing the tongues that would wag at the sight of Aegon's brown haired sons. She believed in her daughter’s absolute perfection and she’d hear nothing that contradicted it, even if it was meant to help her. Rhaenyra left the room, there was clearly nothing more to say if this was how Alicent insisted on handling things.

Your mother believed you to be immaculate. Your siblings followed suit. If Aegon himself had any doubts as to your loyalty, he did not feel them worth speaking. You got the feeling all that mattered to him was keeping your affection. When he entered your chambers for the first time since you had gone into labor, as you held Aemon, rocking him gently to sleep; Aegon envied the child who, after taking over your body for so many moons, was taking his place in your arms until you commented on how like him the babe was. You had been thinking of him as you looked down at your son, it occurred to Aegon that you’d always think of him when you saw your son. Although the head of dark brown hair sent a wave of confusion through him, he believed in your love of him more than he believed his eyes. How could you be untrue to him? You spent most of your time outside of him in the sept or with your mother or sister, helping mind her children. Aemon and Baelon were his sons, two little creatures who served as symbols of your lasting love of him. How could they not be his with the affection you gave to them? With how lovingly you stroked their heads and dubbed them “as willful as their father”?

To everyone, you were the image of an exemplary wife, daughter and princess. You went to the sept at night before you went to bed, to pray to the mother, to thank her for the health of your children. You cared for your children until the late hours of the night. Unlike your parents and siblings, you slept in the same chambers as your sullen, drunkard husband most of the time and brought him cheer as well as incentive to behave himself at least somewhat. You obeyed your mother, brought comfort to your sister and served the realm with a stiff upper lip.

But while there was truth to your reputation, there was also truth to Rhaenyra’s interpretation of you. Your mother may have thought you to be “not so slattern as Rhaenyra,” but the truth was that you were exactly as slattern as her. When you visited the sept at night, with your ladies waiting outside the door, as you “wished to feel the presence of the Mother unfettered,” you were actually meeting Jace who compelled you there each night.

That night, Jace parted himself from the shadows of the sept as he watched you trail in. “How lovely you look, you almost seem pure in the light of the sept,” he grinned. “Don’t tease, my prince,” you huff. Jace watched you cross the room to meet him, his eyes fixed on you steadfastly. He’d said it in jest, but it was true, you looked the very image of innocence, it was not a wonder you were able to have his children without consequence. His hands went to your small bump as you closed the distance between the two of you. Another of his children.

A surge of jealousy went through him each time he remembered his children were being called sons of Aegon. It filled him with the urge to stake a claim to you. He would have you for his wife someday, he would have his children at hand, his heirs. But not tonight. Tonight, all that he could have was your body and in reparation, he fully intended to take his fill.

He brought you to your knees before the altar, lighting a candle before hiking up your dress behind you. “You must have told your mother you’ve come here to pray. We mustn’t disappoint her,” he murmured as his hand reached into your smallclothes. “I shall lead you in your prayers, aunt. We both have much to repent for.”

He was unsurprised to find you wet but it still brought about a low groan of satisfaction. Evidence between his fingers of his hold on you. You could feel him stiff against your back. “Start with the Mother, she’s blessed you most, hasn’t she?” His voice, slightly breathy with ill concealed arousal, sent a thrill straight down to your cunt which squeezed around nothing as Jace continued to gently stroke your clit. “Gentle mother…comfort of all our ills…” you began, taking a shuddering breath as you tried to concentrate on humoring Jace.

He tsked. “You’ve become so slack in your orisons, what would your mother say?” his touch becoming slightly firmer, only just barely quicker, more desperate. “Gentle mother, comfort of all our ills, thank you for our children. Protect them in your arms, despite our hubris and forgive us our lusts. Grant us your mercy.”

You swallowed a desperate cry and continued. “Father above, may you…” your thighs quivered, you were fighting the urge to simply lean back into Jace. “May you judge us justly, give our family the strength to find justice for those who would harm us.”

Jace kissed your temple, a soft gesture that felt almost befitting of such a place. “That is a lovely wish, it becomes you, aunt. Now what shall you beg of the Warrior?” His hips had started to brush against your back gently in rhythm, seeking to quell his already drooling cock straining against the confines of his breeches.

“Brave Warrior, should ever our realm come to war again, may our men be loyal and brave enough to protect us…” you slurred out quickly, the entirety of your focus narrowed down to Jace’s fingers which pulled back every time you pushed your hips forward seeking relief. The worst part was that he was so tightly pressed to you that any movement you made drew a pleasured sound from him, even as you struggled for more of his touch. “Bring our realm to victory…Jace, please.”

He laughed behind you, seeming to have genuine fun teasing you. “We’re not done.” He slid two fingers inside easily, taking a painfully long time to work up to a speed that made you squirm. An unintended moan broke free and Jace paused his ministrations, tugging your hair gently so that you'd turn to meet his gaze. "If you cannot even be quiet in a place of worship, I'll stop." There was a flicker of humor in his eyes but his face was a mask of seriousness.

You nodded obediently, silently cursing him for not being too horny to keep up this strict septon act. You leaned forward for a kiss but Jace evaded you, cupping your cheek in his free hand. "You have more prayers to recite, sweet aunt."

You groaned softly. "I pray for the protection of the maid, should my child be a princess...I pray that you would protect her innocence, keep her safe. I beg forgiveness for my own sins against your domain...for....for I have allowed myself to be seduced."

"And the Crone?" Jace intoned, softly amused at the state he was working you into.

"From the Crone...I beg for guidance, I plead her wisdom to help me overcome temptation." That one made Jace grin, you could hear it in his voice.

"You may beg for her wisdom but I believe you've already made up your mind." This time he let you roll your hips forward into his hand, matching the pace of his fingers as you sought attention for your neglected clit. He even brought your face back to his for a long kiss.

Suddenly, he pulled your small clothes off entirely, shredding them to rags. You braced yourself on the altar, your fingers sticking in the warm, dripping wax of the melting candles. Jace spread your legs with his knees. When he saw the way you were wet down to the inside of your thighs, he could only moan. "Gods," he murmured, it was a shame he didn't have the time to eat your cunt out properly and fuck you. His cock jolted slightly in his pants as he spread you out to admire you fully.

"Don't...." you whimpered, hurting for his cock inside you at last.

"Don't what? Don't admire what a mess you've made, aunt? Don't tell you that your cunt is begging me to use it again?" Jace laughed.

You screwed your eyes shut, bowing your head as you knelt, waiting for him, utterly defeated. In a place where the gods paid thrice as much attention, you were to bear witness to your own moral turpitude. Jace always loved that moment, when your frantic desire and guilt for the values your mother instilled converged; when your heart ached at the depravity of your own actions but you still knew that desire would win, as it always did and always would. You would almost try to hide from your own wanting, surely your mother had also taught you it was unseemly for a woman to have such hungers but that, obviously, did not draw them back from whence they came. In your heart of hearts, you knew you were born hungry and wanting, Jace was the only one who would allow you all that you could devour.

Such a beautiful sight. It was only then that he slid his cock inside, a surprised cry leaving your pretty mouth when he was only half inside. He paused just as you clapped a hand over your mouth, head still bowed in silent prayer that he should not decide to stop. Mercifully, he didn't. Couldn't, rather. He was sure it would have killed him to stop. He began to push deep into you, meeting slight resistance from the tight space despite how many times you'd taken it. A pleasant sting came about as he stretched you out slowly. As he entered you fully, it came to mind to rub your clit as it throbbed for attention but you simply couldn't. You were stalled, miring in the overwhelming sensitivity of that moment.

Every detail, every curve, vein and divot of his cock was gliding right over the tender spot inside that made you want to weep. You were too sensitive and pent up for so long, it happened every time, you got too close to the edge too quickly. Your breaths came quick and shallow, your brain going to madness. It took so few strokes for you to come undone that Jace himself was not even at the edge yet. You muffled your cries in your hand, your cunt all but fluttering around Jace's cock. A few stray tears ran down your face as Jace gently forced your head up again so that he could admire your expression. "Too fucking easy," he said but so softly it did not even sound mean.

You tentatively removed your trembling hand from your mouth, putting more faith in your voice than you ought have. "Please, more," you begged, your voice a cracked whisper. You were no longer pretending, here of all places with him of all people, there was no longer any need to be the vision of purity in flesh.

"Utterly consumed and still begging for me...that is how I like you, aunt." Jace's hands found your hips, his own snapping forward to thrust into you deeper, quicker. Thankfully, the silk of your gown prevented your skin from rubbing raw on the stone altar but you'd had to abandon your grip on the slick stone, instead relying on the floor to hold you up. Jace let out quiet, restrained moans at the feel of you. He would surely not be able to keep his pace and last much longer, but it did not seem to matter for your body was so alight with stimulation that you were a hair's breadth from cumming anyway. When you'd tried to touch your own clit again, even your own gentle touch, you'd flinched and trembled from overstimulation.

Jace kept a brutal pace, panting like a beast in heat. You came, a painful orgasm racking your body. The warm, wet squeeze of your pleasure, of your cunt trying to draw him deeper was eliciting the most deliciously ill concealed moans from him. He pumped in and out of your hole, his breaths stuttering. Your hand was still over your mouth to contain the whorish moans that would serenade the entire sept if allowed. Just as you thought you'd collaspe in a heap onto the ground, Jace finally came, pumping cum deeply into you in slow pulses. You could feel his body twitch where your bare skin met. Cum continued to flow for several more seconds, your dazed mind was both exhausted and impressed.

When he finally finished, he lingered for a moment inside you. He wished to have you for the whole night, to have you for every night. To steal you away from standing at the side of green cloth and sullen faces; to put you in the true colors of your house as his queen. He knew, like Rhaenyra knew that your mother would never agree to an annulment and it was her who ruled you. It was only when Aegon was sent to the seven hells that he could steal you away and wed you. It was only then he could speak the truth of his children without fear.

That wasn't tonight. Perhaps it would not even be after the birth of your third child but Jace was something your brothers and your mother were not. Patient. He would play the game, he would bide his time, he would plot and plot and plot. He could be as his mother and pretend.

When you parted from him, you returned to your chambers, finding a drunken and weepy Aegon. You had so wanted to have a bath and a nice sleep but it seemed you'd have to soothe your elder brother instead. You sat on the bed, not bothering to even ask what was wrong with him this time, it was always something or another and none of it really mattered by morning. You brought his head into your lap, though you smelled distinctly of sex, your brother must have believed it came from him for he accepted your comfort without question. You stroked his hair and let him drone about Aemond’s jabs as Jace’s cum seeped out of you, wetting the inner lining of your dress.

You and Aegon had only slept together a handful of times, not that he knew as much. After the first couple of times, you came to know how to prepare yourself for the gods only knew that he wouldn’t. Aegon’s desire for you was sporadic in your first years of marriage, you didn’t know when he’d appear in your chambers seeking your body. So, you’d lay back in your bed, touching yourself to the thought of your pretty nephew. Making yourself wet, relaxed and ready so that things would go along without irritation should he appear. Would that your mother had wed you to Jacaerys, you would have done your duty with gladness and ease but you knew how your mother was and what she expected. You couldn’t fault her so much for it, her intentions were only to keep you with her and within her protection. Thankfully, though as Aegon grew, he became more and more of a drunkard, only occasionally being able to even make it to your chambers at night and being satiated into sleep with only a bit of appeasement. He was never the wiser about whether he had or had not bedded you.

It hardly mattered. He only wished for reassurance that you still loved him and thought best of him and in your arms, he believed he’d found it. His limp, weepy affection was suffocating but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave your brother without comfort when he was upset, unfortunately. In the morning, you were glad to untangle yourself from his sweaty body to bathe and dress for the day. Your maids eyed the light bruises at your hips sympathetically, believing they came from your husband, still snoring in bed. You paid them no mind, though it made you feel a bit guilty, it was all the better for everyone to see you as a suffering and dutiful bride. Better for them to think Aegon bedded you, demanded much of you even as you were with child. A princess quietly suffering was as saint-like as a woman could be in the eyes of lords. Let it be told that you did your duty. Such was the only way you’d ever have anyone fight for you and your children.

Months later — months of secret meetings and muttered prayers later, you went to your birthing bed with your mother at your side. She was trying to soothe you but the sheer terror in her eyes didn’t match her calm words. Still, you were glad to have her. Even if you told Jace you belonged to him and even though the lords of the realm said you belonged to Aegon, you truly belonged to your mother who cared for you in all things. Whose love of you would drive her to madness should you perish in childbirth. It was a comfort that preceded your capacity for romantic love, it was something formed in the womb, when hers was the only voice in the world.

This birth was your longest yet, stretching from starless morning sky to the middle of the next day when the sun hung high in the sky. Alicent’s fervent prayers as she held your hand were only broken by the birth of your child, who was smaller than your others but dubbed a healthy girl by the maesters. It didn’t seem as though Alicent truly cared much about that, she was simply relieved you had survived the undertaking. The instant the maester took the babe to examine for any imperfections, she leaned down at your bedside and held you tightly. “Oh, my sweet girl. You’ve done so well.”

When the maester handed the softly fussing child back to you, you noticed a thick tuft of silver hair in her head of otherwise dark hairs. You noticed it captured Alicent’s eyes too. She smiled, silently pleased, believing that this would end all allusions to bastardy. If there had been any doubt in her heart that she was able to acknowledge, it was all soothed at the sight of her hair. The babe cooed softly, lying at your breast, stealing your heart away completely. You loved your boys but with a mother like yours, how could you be anything but enamored with a daughter of your own?

“What will you name her?” Alicent asked, watching you hold her granddaughter proudly, pushing your sweaty hair out of your face.

“I shall name her Viserra, I think.”

“That’s lovely.” Alicent smiled, coasting on the sheer relief of your survival. You could have told her you wish to name the child Lickspittle and she would only nod blissfully. “You’ve done so very well.” She seemed near tears.

“Oh, mother, don’t cry.”

She wiped at the tears steadily falling from her big brown eyes. “I cannot help it. I wish to protect you from all things and bearing your child is solely in the hands of the gods but my girl is so strong. I am truly proud, truly grateful.” She knew what it was to marry and to stand alone even in marriage. You wore it well, better than even she had. She never cursed Viserys for it only made him harder to live with if she did but in your birth and his neglect of you, she bore a resentment deep as the sea and long as the red waste. If he was to favor one of his daughters, should it not be you who was never once a thorn in his side? Who honored him even as he slowly forgot your name? If a daughter could be a worthy heir in her eyes, it was you who should have been chosen. That thought became another bitter seed of resentment piled onto the many she’d already buried. She could only hold you.

There was truth to the notion that she feared for all of her children but truly, it was mainly you she feared for. The only loss she could not recover from. She could never have tolerated your marriage to one of Rhaenyra’s bastard boys, the anxiety alone would send her to her death. Still, there were other dangers that awaited young girls in the keep, even princesses…even queens. She wished to shield you from all of them but to that end, she would need to continue building allegiance. Never again should she be delicate, never again supplicating to the wrong person. Her daughter would be queen with hundreds at her side, in service of her honor when the time came, even if it came to bloodshed.

[lurochar]

Codependency (Pt. 2)

18+ MDNI

Part 1

Warnings: DARK headcanons. Implications of child abuse. Incestuous relationship (nothing explicit happens). HIT THE BACK BUTTON NOW/SCROLL PAST IF THIS BOTHERS YOU/MAKES YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE!

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There are no morals in Hell. It doesn’t take very long for you and Alastor to figure this out. It was the taboos of society that stopped you both from furthering your relationship beyond the near kisses, even though you and Alastor had already broken the ultimate taboo of murder – multiple, multiple times at that.

Still, it does take years and years for you and Alastor to break past the comfort zone you had both settled into. Alastor is completely aware you are his half sister and despite his status as a sociopathic cannibalistic serial killer, he believed it may have been a step too far to do anything of that nature with you. He never once stopped to think to end the codependence you had started to develop early on, however. 

You were the only person Alastor loved beside his mother and after his mother died, he fixated all of his love upon you. You were dependent on him, he needed to take care of you – you were his, after all. However, due to the fact you were raised in two abusive households – your prostitute mother neglected you for clients and Mr. Hartfelt didn’t care for you – you had a very skewed view of what familiar love was, even if Mrs. Hartfelt tried her best.

Because there are no morals in Hell, Alastor and you are free to do whatever you please without any consequences as long as you have the power to do so. You may not be as powerful as Alastor since you can’t control radio waves, but due to the sins you stacked up in life, you are formidable in your own right. You and Alastor rise up to Overlords in record time.

It’s not as though you and Alastor tell anyone of your screwed-up relationship and you don’t tell anyone that you’re actually related, but you learned to relax over the years if anyone did find out. Who cares, what could they possibly do anyway? Alastor would just go devour them and this was Hell. There were much worse Sinners out there and it’s not as if you and Alastor were the first incestuous couple to fall to Hell and you wouldn't be the last.

The older Overlords knew and they could care less. You figured they have seen much in their long lives and very little could faze them.

It’s only when you and Alastor end up at the ‘Happy Hotel’ quickly rebranded to the ‘Hazbin Hotel’ that you start running into others who start to meddle…

Well, other than Vox.

He’s just meddling to try to squeeze himself between you and Alastor and your legs.

But that’s a different story.

----

Taglist: @queenofmorningstar @ally-glow @martinys-world @tayraedoll @n0tmentallystable @areyoujoe @gbearyacorn

(I hoped you wanted to be tagged since you asked for part 2!)

[sweetlady555]

My Personal Solar Return Observations Pt III

reminder to check your degrees in your sr chart as they play a big factor in how certain sr placements would play out!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Venus 5H 17° SR - when i had this in my sr chart for 2023-2024 i saw myself experimenting more with different creative styles/looks. i would try to find inspiration from different creatives on instagram. while i was doing this, i started talking to a well known designer in that creative scene who had messaged me because he liked my style. it was a secret relationship because he cheated on someone to be with me which i thought they were completely done but he kept going back to her then back to me. he was obsessed with me and it was a really weird relationship, he would only come to me when his lustful desires were acting up and then would go when he was satisfied 💀. i was tired of this so i started talking to someone else and he found and his little ego got so hurt and he blocked me thank fucking god 😭😭!! I was also approached by another creative because he wanted to use my face as inspiration for his clothing brand hehe ( the 17° rules leo & fame )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Aries Rising 2° SR - when i had this i felt like i was really impulsive i did lots of things without thinking twice. i had my chart ruler in the 5h that year so it might be different if you end up having your asc ruler somewhere else in your sr chart, but for me i was impulsive when it came to switching different styles. i also started drinking and partying for the first time when i had a aries rising in my sr when it was placed in my 5h. aside from this, i was very determined on finishing goals i set my mind to and i was very consistent in trying to build a good foundation for myself. ( the 2° rules taurus & early stages )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Moon 7H 4° SR - most of my relationships that i had that year were lowkey codependent, the guys i talked to that year were very emotionally dependent and attached to me. they would usually call or message me out of nowhere to vent or open up to me which would be random asf lmaoo ( the 4° rules cancer & security/protection )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Mercury 3H 28° SR - I started talking to my siblings more and my relationship grew closer with them. I also started becoming more vunerable with my siblings. My relationship with my siblings were more nurturing compared to the past. ( the 28° rules cancer & heightened sensitivity/vulnerability )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Mars 5H 21° SR - I went out a lot more when i had this in my sr chart with my sisters friends who would randomly go out just for the fun of it 😭, like it was last minute most of the times but it was so fun tho! i got to do lots of things on the trips we went to! I was also more open to expressing my creativity like making clothes and putting it out there and such. ( the 21° rules saggitarius & travel/freedom )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Jupiter 1H 8° SR - I was more optimistic about life when I had this placement in my sr chart. I also felt like I was really lucky when it came to travelling more. places ive wanted to go to forever i ended up going to! things i wanted to experience i experienced! it was a good year for experiencing new things. ( the 8° rules scorpio & transformations )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Uranus 2H 21° SR - yeah i dont know where my money went that year 💀 money would come fast and then it would go even faster 😭 i saw my money as a source of freedom and thought of money so recklessly like, “oh these shoes are $300 but i just got fired? dont worry the money will come back *BOUGHT🧾*” so i didnt care much about saving or anything 😭 it came back though!! but then it went bye bye the next day😍 also for some weird reason whenever i took money out from daily pay which is a app where you can take money out early from your check when you work, whenever i took it out it ended up saying i had to pay back the amount i took out? like uhhh im pretty sure this was my money i took out 😂🤔… so now im -$200 but they gotta catch me in person cuz im not paying that 😹 ( the 21° degree rules saggitarius and freedom )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Pluto 11H 29° SR - i ended two 5+ year friendship that year, it was hard but it was a trio and i found out that the both of them would ditch me to go hangout and do substances and i feel like that didnt align with my path because you are who you hangout with!! i also saw my goals/path changing that year, I completely re-evaluated what i wanted to do 🙏. ( the 29° is a anaretic degree that rules major transformations/completion/endings )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Chiron 1H 19° SR - I was VERY critical on how others percieved me and my self image, i had multiple identity crises. I was super insecure the year I had this in my sr chart i cant even lie, despite so many people telling me how beautiful I was I just couldnt see it. 2 months before my birthday in 2024 i ended up understanding who i was and finding out what I LIKE and not what other people expected of me. im not facing multiple identity crises anymore which i thank my nn in my 1h from that year 🙏. ( 19° rules libra & can make a person more erratic and critical )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 1H SR in 5H SR - I was more open to showcasing my creative talents, designing clothes, starting lots of creative projects. I was also having sooo much fun that year i miss it so much but lemme stop reminiscing 💔 I was also more flirty and playful that year leading me to have a few romantic encounters this year. Lots of creativity, fun, and sexual encounters happened that year.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 2H SR in 5H SR - I spent most of my money on clothes and on creative projects just things that made me happy!!!! I was also recieving money from a lot of guys who wanted sexual things from me but they got #finessed and i didnt care because who do you think i am???????

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 3H SR in 3H SR - when i had this i started getting into astrology more, i was also reading a lot more aswell. I was really curious and i needed lots of mental stimulation from something that was neverending and astrology just so happened to be it 😹. I was also making tons of short trips that year.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 4H SR in 7H SR - my family life was lowkey stopping me from getting into any relationships, i came to the realization i wouldnt be able to get into any relationships while living with my parents because of how controlling they can be. Also my sister got into a new relationship that sr year.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 5H SR in 7H SR - I started talking to a creative designer the year I had my 5h in my 7h. I was also getting involved with creative partnerships aswell, promoting eye contacts/lashes/having my face used for someones brand. I also attended more parties and was going out more so i found most of my relationship encounters were through that.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 6H SR in 4H SR - i changed my diet when i had this in my sr. I also didnt know how to balance my work life and home life so it clashed terribly and i got fired😭. I was also going out more with my sister so my routines have changed from never going out at all to going out every week.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 7H SR in 5H SR - I met lots of new friends and different social circles through fun plans like partying, girls trips etc.. I also had lots of fun romantic encounters when i had this in my sr whether i met them when i was drunk or at parties it was lots of fun lol. There was so much childlike joy when it came to my relationships that sr year.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 8H SR in 5H SR - i lost my virginity the year i had this in my sr😶 but besides that my relationships in that sr year really shaped my understanding of love and myself. i was also recieving money from relationships i felt like a sugar baby🙈

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 9H SR in 1H SR - BABY I WAS OUTSIDEEE😭😩 okay besides that, that sr year when i had this i experienced a lot of new things that helped me discover who i was on the inside 😊. I was focused on self growth especially that year!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 10H SR in 12H SR - I thought a lot about what I wanted to do career wise and how it would align with my goals and my purpose . I had this in my sr when I got fired 😭 and i realized I would prefer being my own boss when it came to my work life

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 11H SR in 12H SR - I unfriended my closest friends after re-evaluating our friendships that year. I also found out shady shit about them and I didn’t like that which led me to unfriending them

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 12H SR in 2H SR - i was manifesting money a lot the year i had this and im not even gonna lie it was coming!! so if you have this in your sr this year, manifest that moola$$$!!!!! i was also receiving money behind the scenes from other people the year i had this in my sr chart .

if my sr chart for that solar return year was a song it would be definitely be this song 🥲 #willforevercherishthatyear

dont forget to check out my other personal sr observations if you enjoyed this one :) !

[lostsyren]

I WATCHED ALL THE EPISODES!!! here are my thoughts on Rafe’s characterisation!! ok spoilers ahead:

I don’t agree with everyone saying rafe is out of character. Firstly, he’s always been insecure. He’s always needed someone to reassure him and be his yes man: (topper, Ward, Barry even Wheezie). So it’d make sense he’d do the same thing with Sofia– asking her for advice, making sure he’s doing the right thing etc etc.

Secondly everyone saying that him not being psycho is out of character doesn’t make any sense. When he was “psycho” he was off his head with coke. In season 3 we see him clean and instead he’s turned to alcohol. So it’d make sense for him to be this drunk, playboy persona and desperately try to cling to the “man of the house” vibe he established in s3.

Thirdly, everyone saying it’s cringe or not correct for him to act soft with Sofia…we don’t know how he acts with a girl. Sure we have fanfic interpretations, but those are often exaggerated and unrealistic. Rafe lowkey seems pathetic and clearly unstable after the death of his dad. He’s seeking comfort in Sofia, that much is obvious, and I’d say that’s pretty spot on for him– especially with how he’s not committing to the relationship (saying she’s just a friend, just a hookup) whilst simultaneously telling her he wants to start a life with her. This back and forth sway from two opposites is very in character of him. Like how he went from trying to kill his sister to feeling guilty, to trying to kill his dad but then saving him. He’s unstable. That doesn’t mean he’s solely angry and violent. It also means he needs an outlet to be vulnerable (and seeing his softer side is such a nice thing guys come on!!)

And finally, everyone saying Sofia is just a cookie cutter “y/n” stereotype is not giving her enough credit. We see her wildly different life, with a big family and her little home on the cut, directly contrasting the massive, devoid of family house that belongs to Rafe. That storyline has sm potential!! Like imagine rafe meeting her family and realising what a family should look like!!! She also clearly doesn’t vibe with his friends and the kooks, and she clearly likes him. The way they’re always touching each other, always near each other, this weirdly codependent relationship has sm layers to explore!! And rafe clearly cares about her, letting her tell him what to do, her little disappointed looks that make him overthink! Everytime they’re on screen, the vibe is undeniable!!

[skythighs]

Goddess of Caladan: Home

Has anyone else been craving an unhinged codependent relationship? No? Just me, got it. Be prepared for Paul to slowly descend into madness all while his twin enables his behavior like there's no tomorrow. I'll be linking all pictures on my masterlist.

Warnings: CW Inc*st, sexual content 18+ please.

Word count: 3.3k

Part 1

My earliest memories are of my brother. I'll never forget the sound of his pitter patter feet running across the solid stone floors of our shared chambers. After our nanny thought we were asleep and tucked in for the night she would leave us for her own bed. Within seconds of the solid door latching closed he would make his way to me. We would lie chest to chest, nose to nose breathing each other's air until we fell asleep. For years when we were discovered in a tangle of limbs in the morning it was harmless and sweet. It was ‘just what twins do’. 

There was no harm in it, until there was. By age ten our mother Lady Jessica calmly spoke to us of the closeness between us. She was understanding of the bond we share but now we must separate for propriety's sake. It was not proper for us to share a bed anymore. We had already been put in separate chambers by now. Paul was male, and I was female. He could no longer cuddle with me, his sister throughout the night without certain whispers being spread by servants. 

We were ten when we agreed to never be caught in each other's bed again. Paul trained himself to rise before the sun, before the servants started their day, before they could spy on us and gossip. Or worse, report back to mother. As long as we weren't seen in each other's bed it meant we were no longer sharing a bed at all. It meant we were no longer ‘too close’.

In all actuality we were too close. Paul's heart beat to the same rhythm as my own. My very thoughts would pass his lips the instant it crossed my mind, despite our best efforts we were one. In our childhood our feelings were as innocent as we were. Pure of heart and intentions. However as our bodies changed so did our interactions. There was an odd tension between us by age fourteen. I experienced the first bitter taste of womanhood and Paul grew two feet overnight. 

He was the one that shook me awake informing me of the bloodied sheets beneath us. He didn't know where I was bleeding from just that I was and it frightened him. I reassured him it was normal, it meant that I was no longer a child. Somehow the odd feelings between us grew after that day and I felt the rhythm in his chest speed up whenever he stared at me for too long. 

“Claudia, you are blossoming beautifully into your features. Gone is the awkward little girl, all elbows and knees. In her place stands a young lady with a lovely figure and a lovelier face.” 

My mother praised me for my transformation while Paul became distant. He himself was no longer a lanky boy, he filled out with a bit of muscle from all the training over the years. Whenever I could spare the time I would watch him spar with Duncan, or Gurney. My mother trained me in the ways of the Bene Gesserit sisterhood extensively. Paul was also being instructed by her but being born male put him at a disadvantage. I tried helping him correct his pitch when he tried to use the voice but nothing I could do ever helped.  

No matter how distant he was during the daylight hours he still slept beside me at night. We were still a tangle of limbs chest to chest, nose to nose. His dreams were my dreams and I saw the girl on the desert planet as clear as he did. Her blue eyes were altered by the spice of Arrakis making her honey brown skin all the more beautiful. 

The news of the Emperor bestowing Arrakis to House Atreides was no shock to Paul or me. The Reverend mother Gaius Helen Mohiam arrived after that. She tested us separately and was pleased to know we weren't animals as she feared. Paul was the Atreides heir after all and him being an animal simply wouldn't do. He was also his mothers son, too much power was within him. Male children didn’t usually get trained in The Way. Me however I had no real role besides being married off to some other great house when the time came. At sixteen some thought I was old enough to be wed but not my father. 

Duke Leto refused to make me a child bride no matter how much the Imperium pushed for it. He defied the order that came to promise me to House Harkonnen. In fact he never spoke of it with anyone, but me. He promised he would never let them have me. His argument for my mother was about my age. He couldn’t tell her to her face that he would not help fulfill the Bene Gesserit order.

“Claudia is only sixteen years old. I will not force her into a marriage so young Jessica, you cannot change my mind.” 

Jessica knew when she had been bested and she knew better than to push him on this. She also knew when she was being deceived. Claudia was his angel for whom he would carve out a piece of the very sky if she asked it of him. He had no intention of marrying her off now or ever. 

It was a bit humid due to the rain, making sleep difficult to come by tonight. Paul was facing away from me shirtless and I found myself stroking his hair absentmindedly, occasionally dipping down his spine languidly. 

“I told Duncan about my dream. About seeing his death on Arrakis. He didn’t take me seriously.”

Hmm, I hum in response. I saw the dream with my own eyes. I felt his want, his guttural need to save Duncan. I felt it so strongly I wept in the morning. I continue stroking him as he turns to face me. He looks down at my cream colored nightgown which was left unbuttoned at the top. I knew what he was going to do before he acted upon it. His soft lips brushed against mine gently. He was waiting to see my reaction. Would I push him away? He couldn’t handle another rejection today after his talk with father about joining Duncan on Arrakis. 

I kiss him back slowly, the way he needs me to. I feel his warm tongue run against my lips hesitantly as I open for him. He deepens the kiss sinking down on top of me. He fit so perfectly against me. We were molded in each other's image afterall. The familiar quick rhythm returned to his chest, but this time my own heart matched its pace. Words weren’t needed between us. They haven’t been for a long time, we understood each other better than anyone else. 

The tension that had been brewing between us had finally reached its peak. We were experiencing a metamorphosis here and now on a dark rainy night. One of the last nights on our home planet before we moved across the galaxy to make Arrakis our new residence. 

“I need you Claud, let me have you. Please let me have you. Always.”

Brown eyes meet green, brown like the supple fertile soil that sustains the living trees that flourish on Caladan’s surface. Brown in a much different way than the rolling dunes of Arrakis. Where Arrakis was barren and life was a struggle. Her brown was a brown entirely familiar to him. Her amber eyes had been his constant companion since life sparked in the womb. They were brown even then in his consciousness; she was meant for him even then. 

‘I’ve always been yours’

I don’t speak it, because I don’t have to. He knows my answer, he’s always known. I spread my legs for him, welcoming him home for the first time, but not the last. He lifts my gown over my head tossing it aside. My chest is on the small side but he doesn’t care. He worships my breasts slowly, not missing an inch of skin. His tongue is slow and exploratory before his teeth become demanding. Nips and bites make me cry out softly unable to swallow them all down. He moves down to the apex between my thighs. 

He sucks me urgently, familiarizing himself with the blooming petals. He finds my slit wet and wanting. I can’t tell where his mouth ends and my body begins as he delves inside. His fingers are involved and I know they are working equally as hard as his mouth. I couldn’t decipher anything past the absolute pleasure and joy bursting within me. A pleasure that was quickly spilling over like sticky wine in a fine goblet. A sweetness that nearly soured on the tongue, an acquired taste that only he would ever enjoy.

 My core snaps harshly, something that had never been, now was. My eyes roll to the back of my head and a limpness passes over me. He laps up my nectar slowly savoring this moment. The first of many moments such as this. I feel Paul watching me as he settles his hips against me again. 

“Claud, are you with me?” He calls so softly, almost as if he’s afraid of waking me.

My eyes snap open and I feel my limp limbs gain strength again.

“I’m here, I’m with you.” I nod looking at him. I pull his forehead to mine and wrap my thighs around him snugly. His bare chest is pressed against mine and I help him push his slacks down. Hands fumbling together, shaking with anticipation as the last barrier between us is gone. 

‘Your home, with me. No matter where life takes us. This is where you belong.’

He enters me slowly, his forehead is still resting against mine. As I exhale he's breathing me in until his lungs burn. I look into his eyes and I see his pupils blown wide, his body responding to mine like a drug. When he bottoms out he drops his head to my neck, pecking at me trying to calm his hummingbird heartbeat before he goes further. My insides are so slick all I felt was a mild discomfort as he broke through my barrier. His breath quivers and I feel his tears run down my neck collecting in the dip of my clavicle. 

“Shh, my love don't weep.” I stroke his hair slowly to soothe away his tears.

I circle my hips from below him, testing the foreign feeling within me. Pleasure blooms between us and he begins thrusting slowly into me. Savoring this new level of intimacy between us he takes his time. Our lips lock in an unbreakable kiss. Inhale. Exhale. We breathe each other in, with each stroke the cup overflows. Our sounds of pleasure are swallowed into the kiss. Only soft whimpers and sighs could be heard between us. His thrusts increase and we finally pull apart. My head is thrown back in ecstasy as he licks up the puddle of tears he left behind. 

Skin slapping skin is such an odd sound. A very distinct sound that couldn’t be replicated easily, but we are too far gone to care. His movements grow sloppy as I meet him thrust for thrust, always pulling him closer as he pulls away. His peak was nearing now I could feel the ripples under the surface of his skin. I could feel the odd tingling down below. The tightening of his sack. I felt his ecstasy as well as my own. It was a feeling that could easily overwhelm, but we shared it equally.

“I’m going to cum Claud. Tell me where.” His breathless voice rings out in the darkness. 

“Inside Paul, always inside.”

My words push him over the edge of a cliff and where he goes I follow. We tumble one after the other off the highest peak on Caladan. We could be falling to our deaths, or the pits of hell, but we do it together. Always together. Always as one single entity. One single life split in two.

We said goodbye to Caladan by enjoying the beaches closest to the castle for the last time. Paul was in a melancholic mood, matching his black coat and travel garb. The ship had been raised from the sea and everything we owned was boxed in preparation for the journey. The Atreides castle was now bleak and eerily silent. I left Paul to himself while I explored our empty home. The corridors seemed ominous now, so dark and dank and lonely. Arrakis could be a welcomed change. It was always sunny and bright, it never rained there. Rain for weeks on end always dampened my mood, no pun intended. 

Deep down my brother was looking forward to seeing Arrakis. It meant he was one step closer to facing the girl from his dreams. He tried to hide that feeling away, but he couldn’t keep things from me. No matter how hard he tried, I already knew. I appreciated him trying to spare me the pain, but what we shared was beyond petty feelings of jealousy. At least that was true for me. Men were different. 

I was looking forward to meeting her in the flesh whenever that may be. I would accept her if he chooses her, but would she accept me? Would she understand that Paul and I would always be together no matter who else entered our lives? I would always be his Caladan.

“When did you sneak off?”

Paul's voice startles me out of my thoughts. He wraps his arm around my shoulder pulling me into his side.

“You seemed preoccupied. I didn’t want to bother you.” I look up at him as I speak tucked beneath his shoulder.

“You could never be a bother to me, Claudia.” 

He leans down and captures my lips in a sweet kiss. His kiss was the one bit of brightness in the dark damp hallway. We hadn’t been together in an intimate way since that night we shared together. Even still things were different. His eyes called out to me from across any room. His lips beckoned me forward across the dinner table as we dined with our parents. He looked at me with such love and devotion it was impossible to miss.

A stranger would think of me, his great love. They would never take me for his sister, but we had always been close. It could be overlooked for now but eventually mother and father would realize, this was no longer the bond of twins. The echo of footsteps reaches us so we break the kiss but he keeps me tucked into his side as our mother rounds the corner.

“There you two are. We’re ready to board.”

She smiles at us briefly before her smile falls quickly. She looks us over slowly, taking stock, attempting to find what it is that’s different.

“Shall we go mother?” Asks Paul. He feels the probing eyes the same as me. 

She nods her head and turns away from us, leading the way for the last time in the halls we chased each other in as children. The halls we took our first steps in. This was the castle where we shared our first kiss. Our first everything, happened here. The castle where we were born together. Where our childhood was laid to rest a week ago in the night, in each other's arms.

We had been traveling for two weeks already on the guild heighliner with two more weeks left ahead of us. On the up side there was plenty of time for rest and relaxation. Being cooped in my designated room for the duration of travel was not fun so I ventured out often. I chatted with servants and soldiers alike, making the time pass as best I could. Paul and I spent uninterrupted hours together. As close as we were before, it grew tenfold. He spent hours inside of me in these weeks. Hours beneath me, on top of me, beside me.

 I was currently stretched out across his bed. His quarters were larger than mine which allowed for a bigger bed. I certainly took advantage of it. He was sitting at a small table reading about Arrakis no doubt and I was in my nightgown braiding my hair away from my face. My thick dark hair piled into a thick rope of a braid with only a few stray pieces around my face caught his attention. 

He abandons his book on the table and makes his way towards the bed slowly. He strokes my braid gently, wrapping it around his hand. A quick rap on the door breaks the spell. 

“Yes?” Says Paul, annoyed at the interruption. 

“Have you seen Claudia? She's not in her room.”

She was using that tone mothers used when they already knew the answer to the question. Paul removes his hand from my hair reluctantly.

“I'm here.” I replied to her. Paul rolls his eyes at me not liking that I gave away my position. 

She cracks the door open slowly, timidly even. As if she's afraid of what she might see from the threshold. 

“It's late, Claud. You should be in your own bed.”

Ah, there it is. The thing that had been brewing for a fortnight now. Her suspicion had taken root now. She could feel that something was strange between us, she was our mother after all.

“Paul doesn't mind my company mother. He's been reading-”

“Claudia, it's late. If you want to escape travel fatigue you should be in bed by now.” She blatantly cuts me off. She was dismissing me from his room. There was little room for argument. 

I stand up and grab my robe, securing it. I see Paul shaking his head at her frustration clear on his face but I don't comment on it. I bid them goodnight and walked past her in the doorway. The walk to my room is short. Once I arrive I discard my robe on a chair and climb into bed. I fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. 

The opening of my door barely registers past the thick cloud of sleep. It's his lips that get my attention. He kisses my shoulder lightly as he climbs in behind me. Sleep claims me again now that he was here with me. Our bodies fall into the perfect rhythm that only happens when we're together. Inhale. Exhale. If I'm the sky he's what clouds are made of. 

In the last weeks of our journey my mother's probing eyes followed me closely. Just me. For she always struggles to find fault in Paul; her loves heir was perfect in her eyes. He was the boy our father asked for. He was Lady Jessica's success story. I was just a daughter. Any daughter would do but Paul was special to her, we all knew it. 

My father compensated for her love of Paul by adoring me twice as much. He was the balancing force at the center of our family. He was seated across from me, a chess board between us as he contemplated his next move. 

“I'm afraid you've finally surpassed me Claud. There's nothing I can do to stop you from winning.”

I look closer at the board. I hadn't even noticed.

“Ah, there. You're right this match goes to me.”

“Shall we play another round?” Asks my father cheerfully.

The door to the office opens and Paul walks in, eyes locking on mine. I had been avoiding him during the day afraid of the ever present mother hen.

“Perhaps Paul should take my place, I'll go have a nap.” 

I stand and kiss my father's cheek. Avoiding Paul's eyes as I leave without another word. When I step over the threshold I hear father ask if we've been arguing. 

“We never fight.” Paul replies easily. 

[heavenshardware]

I’m crazy about the fact that Maxwell joined si-5 after 6 months of stalking and enormous pressure while Jacobi treats his one year anniversary of joining like it’s his wedding day. Idk what this is saying but I feel like it definitely says something about them and the way they view their places and roles in the power structure and their involvement in si-5

oh Absolutely. this is something i have put So much thought into because most si-5-centric episodes areeee My favorites.

Kepler and jacobi really do just. Work so well together and they way they just cut each other down is so Disgusting and Beautiful. but before i can really talk about that i do want to bring up the circumstance of how their “meeting” in TTBOT that kepler set up was able to create the roots for any of this.

kepler purposefully finds jacobi at his lowest and his most vulnerable (unlike maxwell). refers to him as his friend, starting off with his infamous “long story short”’s, buying him drinks. you could even take the way that he acts with and speaks to jacobi as a little flirtious. he pretends to take a genuine interest jacobi’s life, entertaining his riffing. as far as we know, jacobi and kepler are the only two people who are able to speak to each other in such a way that’s almost poetic. they finish each others sentences, and on jacobi’s side of things—

**i want to mention kepler quoting king lear in act 1 scene 4 specifically here. this is a little off topic but i also want to talk about it. TTBOT is also a good parallel of this scene because it lays the foundation for jacobi’s undying loyalty for kepler and his destructive nature and how it compliments keplers focus for only creating what matters as they both mirror kent and king lear respectively. this scene also touches on introducing keplers fatal flaw: his pride

—to directly quote kent here, he’s able to “keep secrets…ruin an elaborate story by trying to tell it, and deliver a plain message bluntly”. jacobi is essentially the filter for kepler, has he’s molded him as such. really, jacobi has trusted kepler from the beginning; i mean, how many other guys do you know that are also military men who go to shitty pubs in san francisco in the middle of the afternoon? jacobi is putty in keplers hands. kepler likes control, and when it comes to kepler, jacobi likes giving it up. [insert some powerplay joke here based on their innuendo-esque discussions about punishment]

moving on from TTBOT specifically, though, it makes sense that they have such a relationship. kepler introduces himself as jacobi’s savior. kepler is the reason he’s found a job, kepler is the reason he’s found his best friend who is practically his sister, kepler is the reason for.. who he is. (its also definitely related to the cycle of abuse kepler gets caught in due to his proximity to cutter.) kepler manipulates jacobi’s desperate need for approval constaaaantly so their power dynamic mimics that of two people who put each other on pedestals just building them higher and higher. kepler is obsessed with keeping up his image so jacobi doesn’t lose trust in him, and jacobi is obsessed with knowing that this image is true so he can continue to mirror it. he separates himself from his personhood to get as close to kepler as possible. in an ama somewhere as well shachat says that the two *need* special attention from each other for the si-5 to even function as a team! codependent freakssss!!!

to get to a general point about power structures, though, jacobi and kepler are so high up because they work together as a unit essentially sharing a status when the cutter administration isn’t present. neither of them believe that maxwell is “beneath” them, however, she simply isn’t able to match the influence or connection they have. maxwell is a skeptic, she’s a *woman* who’s been wronged so many times by the system that she has a general distrust of everyone and everything around her (excluding hera because… you know). and thats not to say she doesn’t genuinely value her relationship with jacobi either, but she teases him for his undying loyalty to kepler and their genuine appreciation for goddard. she’s only there to do her job as kepler is the only person giving her the means to do it. within the system, jacobi and maxwell are coworkers and kepler is their superior. however, socially, jacobi is above maxwell because of how much kepler and jacobi value each other.

not to paraphrase mitski here but… you know. jacobi is keplers dog. he believes in him like a god. and kepler will cut him down like he is