#He only got involved in politics in recent years

[theoldsports]

married.

Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words

alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3

Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.

As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.

[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.

And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.

“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.

[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.

“No problem.”

[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.

After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.

“I don’t see how that’s your business.”

“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”

“Dry cleaner’s.”

Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.

[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.

“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”

“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.

The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.

“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”

“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”

“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”

“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”

“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?

[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.

She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.

Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.

After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.

The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.

Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.

“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.

Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.

[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”

“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.

[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.

“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”

[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.

It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”

Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.

“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.

“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”

“Hm?”

“Are you nervous?”

“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.

“Yes.”

“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.

“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”

“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.

“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”

Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.

They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”

“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”

[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”

“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.

When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”

—

The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.

“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.

“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”

“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”

“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”

“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.

Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”

“If I must.” [Y/N] said.

With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.

Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.

After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.

Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”

Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.

[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”

“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.

“Junkie is such a strong word…”

“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.

“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.

Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.

Fuck.

Her parents.

[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.

“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.

Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”

“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.

[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.

“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“

[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.

Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.

“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.

“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.

“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.

“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.

“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”

[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”

“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”

“Absolutely and unendingly.”

“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”

“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.

“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.

“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.

“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.

A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.

“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.

Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.

“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”

“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.

The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”

“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”

Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.

“Yes, why?”

“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.

“And?”

“No reason, just making conversation.”

Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”

“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.

“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”

This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”

“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Blowjob.”

“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.

“What?”

In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.

“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.

“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”

“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“

“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”

“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”

“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”

[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.

“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.

“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”

He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.

“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.

[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.

[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.

“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.

More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”

[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.

Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.

“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.

“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.

“How many men have had you behind my back?”

It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.

[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.

That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.

“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“

Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”

“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.

Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.

“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“

“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.

Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.

Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.

Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.

[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”

“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.

[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.

Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.

“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”

“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”

“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.

“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”

PART II HERE

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @ndycrls @arminsarlerts @catlover420sstuff @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @watermelonharry @ohantonia @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @nananarwhal @taykorsyogurt

sorry - some of them would not process and actually tag! i tried!!!!! non functional tags indicated with strikethru

[david-talks-sw]

The OTHER type of Star Wars fan

We've already covered (through this longer post and this addendum) that research shows George wasn't that involved or interested in the derivative material of the Star Wars franchise, also known as the Expanded Universe (EU). Aside from approving a few points, he let Howard Roffman and Lucasfilm Licensing handle it.

He is the first to say that he ain't as knowledgeable about Star Wars lore as we fans are.

Thing is... he's also not as passionate as we are.

Recently, I was watching some Q&A videos of George R.R. Martin, the author of Game of Thrones... and it occurred to me:

Martin is what most Star Wars fans wish Lucas was.

Think about it.

He's a talented writer who likes to focus on morally "gray" characters and complex political plotlines,

who created a series of novels for a mature audience in which his narrative merely asks questions and lets the reader draw their own conclusions,

knows and engages in the lore behind his creation and will often respond to those lore-heavy questions, and has gone on record stating that canon is the glue that holds a story together and keeps it coherent.

Contrast that with George "continuity is for wimps" Lucas, who:

Wrote a movie franchise which is also, partially, political... but he makes it for kids, and he's explicit about how this is thematically a clear-cut story about how the conflict of "good vs evil" is really about "compassion vs greed",

with flat dialogue, boring cinematography,

and whose approach to lore and canon can be summed up in his answer to how Anakin got his scar:

"I don't know. Ask Howard [Roffman]. That’s one of those things that happens in the novels between the movies. I just put it there. He has to explain how it got there. I think Anakin got it slipping in the bathtub, but of course, he's not going to tell anybody that." - Pablo Hidalgo’s set diary, August 2003

And as a Star Wars fan, I will admit that some of his casual retcons felt disrespectful, growing up.

"Boba Fett is NOT Mandalorian?!"

I had the same reaction when I saw an interview of Kathleen Kennedy stating she was a fan of Star Wars... from a filmmaking perspective. That seemed like such a finagling cop-out for me, at the time.

"Just say you're not a real fan, God!"

And it's easy to divide it in two camps, like that. You have 1) the fans, who will delve into deep lore, and you have 2) the average moviegoer.

But looking back on it... holy shit, that is actually a completely valid way of being a Star Wars fan.

Yes, Star Wars is a transmedia franchise, it's books, it's video-games, it's deep lore, it's lightsabers and Jedi and Sith and bounty hunters and Ewoks and Jabba and High Republics and Tython and Revan etc.

But before it was that, Star Wars was a filmmaking revolution. A juggernaut of innovation for the silver screen that inspired most of today's filmmakers.

So, sure, George Lucas isn't an avid lore-loving Star Wars fan like you and me. But he is a movie fan.

"I'm not that passionate about this story. I like it, it's fun and I enjoy doing it. But it's definitely not my life. I'm a bigger movie fan than I am Star Wars fan. I like making movies. At the end of nine years of making Star Wars, I was not ready to continue it. I was completely burned out on it. I was more passionate about raising my kids than making movies and especially making Star Wars. So I made other kinds of movies and TV shows and advanced the technology I needed. It's not a matter of passion. My passion is for filmmaking. I'll go and do filmmaking that is easier to do, where you can realise your ideas better. And nine years is a big part of your life, and to commit to another nine years, I didn't wanna do that right away." - EMPIRE, 1999

And you can tell this, when you watch the Star Wars films.

There are honestly so many homages and interesting filmmaking techniques, peppered throughout the six films, which only a nerd for cinema history like George would know how to implement.

C3-PO being based on the droid from Metropolis (1927) is a perfect example of this.

And that's interesting.

Because there's essentially this entire other dimension to the films, where it's not just the story unfolding, but to filmmakers it's also a series of techniques that make them go "I wonder how they did that!" or homages that make them go "OH! I know where that's from!" like we do when an comics characters appears in live-action.

Here's other examples:

CINEMA HOMAGES

All of Star Wars is absolutely littered with homages to cinema history.

I mean, you may already know this, but Flash Gordon is what George originally wanted to shoot, but the copyright holders said they only wanted Fellini to direct it (ironically, George wasn't artsy-fart enough for them). So he decided to write Star Wars instead.

As such, the inspiration from Flash Gordon is also present visually and spiritually throughout the two trilogies.

"It was like a Republic serial, a 1930s-style matinee adventure. The idea was that you came in, saw Episode IV, had missed the first three episodes, and wouldn't get to see the rest of it." - Starlog Magazine #300, 2002

The dialogue that a lot of people refer to as "campy" and "flat" is actually a mix of George being an experimental filmmaker who doesn't give much of a fuck about dialogue (and is by his own admission, not the best at it)...

"I'd be the first person to say I can't write dialogue. My dialogue is very utilitarian and is designed to move things forward. I'm not Shakespeare. It's not designed to be poetic. It's not designed to have a clever turn of phrase. [...] I just wanted to get from point A to point B. This film doesn't lend itself to that sort of thing because it's not about snappy one-liners.  I think that Lethal Weapon-style dialogue is overused, it's a necessary aspect of high action films where you have to have the smart retort. You have to say "I'll be back baby" and stuff. It's not my style. It takes away from the integrity of the movie. [...] I'm aware that dialogue isn't my strength. I use it as a device. I don't particularly like dialogue which is part of the problem." - EMPIRE, 1999

... which is convenient, because it helped him simulate the dialogue of 1930s matinee serials, such as Flash Gordon.

"Let’s face it, their dialogue in that scene is pretty corny. It is presented very honestly, it isn’t tongue in cheek at all, and it’s played to the hilt. But it is consistent, not only with the rest of the movie, but with the overall Star Wars style. Most people don’t understand the style of Star Wars. They don’t get that there is an underlying motif that is very much like a 1930s Western or Saturday matinee serial. It’s in the more romantic period of making movies and adventure films. And this film is even more of a melodrama than the others." - Mythmaking: Behind the Scenes of Attack of the Clones, 2002

But beyond that, literally it's everywhere.

The scene where Palpatine ascends to being Emperor as Anakin slaughters his political rivals parallels the final scene in The Godfather, where Michael becomes the Don while his goons do the same thing.

This video compiles all the tributes beautifully. Check it out.

Even The Clone Wars has whole episodes that are direct homages to cult classics. The Zillo Beast episode is a clear reference to Godzilla, the episode The Wrong Jedi is inspired by The Wrong Man, etc.

"CINEMA VÉRITÉ" CINEMATOGRAPHY

I've already written a whole post (one of my favourites) showing how his fascination with cinéma vérité documentaries is reflected in the cinematography of all six Star Wars films, and it's part of what makes the entire franchise feel so immersive.

You can check it out here:

KUROSAWA

We've gone over how he's a big fan of Akira Kurosawa, and how big an influence Hidden Fortress was on both the Star Wars trilogies...

... but so is the mise-en-scène and the way George approaches production design. The reason Star Wars feels so "lived in" is also a lesson George learned from Kurosawa, which is that by making everything just a bit off-kilter, a bit dirtied-up and imperfect...

... and yet keeping it all consistent, in a way, you manage to make the film feel grounded and immersive, no matter how alien it is.

"[It] may sound odd in a movie like this, but credibility and realism, even in the most unrealistic situation… to sorta create that sense of realism is very important to making the story work and making you feel like you’re actually in the environment that transports you and gives you the suspension of disbelief that you need in order to enjoy a movie. [...] Kurosawa used to call it “immaculate realism” which is to make it slightly off-kilter, slightly eccentric, like things are in real life. Even if it’s a very predictable situation, give it that little funny edge that takes it away from that and makes it realistic. And I had to struggle very hard, in the Star Wars films, to make them appear to be realistic, even though they’re totally fantasy." - The Phantom Menace, Commentary Track #2, 1999

POST-PRODUCTION & VFX

Another one of the more impressive aspects of the first Star Wars was the dogfights and the trench raid of the Death Star. The camera pans with the spaceship, the dynamism of the cuts. The space battles is what made George creat ILM in the first place.

He was determined to do the opposite of what 2001: A Space Odyssey had done with that opening scene where the space ship moves into frame slooooowly...

... so he gave the team a collection of WWII dogfight footage to give them ideas.

(note: this was the same approach he would take years later with Dave Filoni, when teaching the latter how to edit and craft dogfights in The Clone Wars)

The attempt to film the trench run eventually led to the creation of the first motion control camera dolly.

Best analogy I can think of, when describing George's approach to Star Wars, is the following:

An avant-garde esoteric contemporary artist - y'know, the type who puts a blue dot on a white canvas and calls it art - creates a comic.

Why? Because he wants to make this one art installment for a gallery exhibition. After that, he intends to move on to other things.

But the comic is really good! And like, its audience quickly expands beyond just gallery visitors, no, everyone likes it.

Suddenly, the comic develops a cult following, and the entirety of comic book geek culture has zeroed-in on the artist and they're all asking him to make more art! And he makes more! And more!

Then he stops for two decades, moves on to other art projects, raises his kids. Years later, he discovers new ways of drawing, and he's like "I'm making a Prequel to the comic, y'all wanna see it?"

Everyone cries out gleefully: "Oh God, yes! Finally! Show us!"

But this motherfucker makes a manga.

Why? Because he feels like it.

And of course he does, he's just creating art, right? He discovered the graphic tablet, so he's having fun with it, because he's always innovating and pushing the envelope with his art.

And the movies are fine, by manga standards. But by comic book standards, they obviously suck! The comic book audience is mad. They wanted another comic book, not a manga. Why is it in black and white? Why is read right-to-left? This comic sucks!

(And arguably, they have a point... as a savvy businessman, he's made a whole lot of money off this comic, he built a media empire out of it, and instead of giving them what they want, he made something else)

But again... this guy isn't a comic book illustrator, and has been very explicit about saying this.

He's an artist who - for a very specific project - drew a comic.

Many things can be true at once:

the fact that these creative decisions didn't always hit their mark for the average moviegoer, or fans of "Star Wars, the space fantasy movies and expanded universe" (usually the lore-loving geeks like myself)...

... and the fact that they were meticulously and carefully crafted in a way that fans of "Star Wars, the revolutionary film" (aka fans of cinema and filmmaking) can appreciate.

There's a spectrum of the fandom, and there is a spectrum in the way we can appreciate Star Wars. Which kinda reminds me of that scene in Chef (2014) where Carl goes on a rant explaining the intricacies of making his chocolate lava cake to a food critic.

It's not just undercooked chocolate.

It's molten.

Conversely, it's not just flat, campy dialogue. It's an homage to the 1930s matinee serials à la Flash Gordon.

It's not just boring cinematography. It's a reproduction of cinéma vérité documentary-style camera work which effectively grounds the film.

Having considered all this, when I hear that Tony Gilroy or Kathleen Kennedy were more in the latter camp, I go "fair enough".

First of all, because like it or not, so was George. He clearly didn't give a single crap about the comics and books, besides signing off on minor plot points. He's not a "sci-fi movie director", he's an experimental filmmaker who makes movies set in space.

But secondly, because - aside from children - it's clear the audience he was targeting was these cinema-savvy folks who'd get his references and would be inspired by the filmmaking techniques.

Not the fans or the critics.

[starwrighter]

Dude, get a restraining order

(Masterpost) (Ao3 link) (Previous) (Next)

(Chappy #4)

The incompetence he bore witness to today rivaled that of which you’d see at an underfunded public school. This is a private school funded to the highest caliber! Damian hadn’t missed the dramatic increase in budget around the time Father enrolled him in the school. He’d been there when the press hounded him about it! The point was, that he knew for a fact that the school had the resources to accommodate a single transfer student!

With how poorly Daniel had been equipped to traverse the halls, one could only question if it were intentional. There was sure to be the inevitable mix-up with a student actually showing up for the transfer program. Usually, all they got was an announcement over the PA that all the potential transfers had not so politely declined the invitation. No rational parent would send their child to Gotham alone unless they were truly desperate, ignorant, or neglectful. 

Nothing could ever excuse what he’d seen today. You don’t hand a half-blind student a schedule with braille so radically different from the actual print by accident. It was a bat burger menu for gods sake! Someone had to have noticed when they handed it to him. In lieu of a recent spike of impairments involving vision and or hearing, every schedule had braille on it! Both sign language and braille had become their own optional after-school courses that upon completion, awarded a more than generous amount of extra credit. One didn’t even have to complete the course, all you had to do was pass multiple fluency tests, and then you were finished.

Most teachers knew either Braille or some form of sign language, and they all damn well would’ve known that the map was outdated! Fifty years outdated, you’d have to be a moron to hand that out by mistake. Though with what he was seeing now, he’s not quite sure the facility wasn’t primarily composed of scrambling idiots.

Mr. Rivers, ever the annoyance, had taken to only approaching Daniel from his blind side. It became more and more infuriating as class ticked by. The teacher shoved his body between the two of them, violating any semblance of personal space for the sole purpose of inconveniencing Daniel. Every time Mr. Rivers encroached on their personal space, Damian sharpened his pencil. Every time he made the other boy flinch, the idea of launching the pencil like one of his throwing knives became more and more appealing. No harm would’ve come to the teacher, the sight of a wooden pencil embedding itself in the wall mere inches away from his left eye would be more than enough to frighten the man. 

He’d face detention or possibly even suspension, but he’d take the punishment with pride. A smirk played on his lips as he tapped his pencil against his desk.

His smirk soon shifted into a scowl as yet another work packet was piled onto his desk. It was irritating, everything about this class was irritating. Daniel let out a dramatic groan beside him, the other boy slumping back in his chair. Worksheets were piled high on the boy's desk, some completed while most remained unfinished.

A ruler snapped down onto Daniel’s desk, a loud thwack! Startling the boy into sitting up straight.

“I guess I deserved that one,” Daniel shrugged.

“No you didn’t,” Damian replied flatly, but Daniel just shrugged it off. Most of the school facility were what most Gothamites would consider normal. Mr. River just had a generally detestable personality.

The man hated teenagers, often spewing complaints of their “rowdy behavior” and “lack of dedication,”. Damian might’ve agreed with those statements if it weren’t for the blatant lies in every word the man said. His classmates were…noisy and rather unpleasant for him to mingle with, but they were far from the “Lazy entitled brats” Mr. Rivers had painted them as. It’d be hypocritical for him of all people to judge the teacher based on being “mean” but the two of them couldn’t be farther apart.

 Damian was a hostile presence in the classroom, but he didn’t go out of his way to target and harass people for things they couldn’t control. People could choose to stay out of his personal space, and they could choose to not say dumb shit to his face. A mental or physical condition wasn’t something they could change, nor were they things that verbal and physical abuse would fix. This should've been common sense to anyone with two brain cells to strike together, but apparently, Darwinism had failed once again.

Mr. Rivers targeted Daniel based on his visual impairment. Every question was targeted at Daniel regardless if his had been raised or not. The man punctuated each sentence with a loud headache-inducing smack to his desk. He always struck on the boy’s blindside, never where he could see the ruler come down. Aside from the occasional flinch, Daniel took the abhorrent behavior in stride.

Concerning… It was one word he could use to describe Daniel's indifference. Completely unbothered, like this was just a typical Monday in class for him. Maybe his previous statement rang true, and he soulfully had experienced worse. That in itself was a concerning statement but made sense considering the context to that worse was engraved on his face. Everything the teacher did just seemed to roll off the other boy’s shoulders like water off a swan's back. A muttered comment of “his school counselor being worse than this teacher ever could be,” only serving to exasperate his concerns.

It was distracting… Every time Daniel gave him a reassuring smile, his heart pounded like hummingbird wings. Blood rushed to his cheeks, warming them like he’d just sat in front of a fireplace. As big of a deal as his siblings made of his apparent social ineptitude, Damian wasn’t an idiot.

How was he supposed to read people if he didn’t understand the emotions that drove their behavior? He’s a vigilante! He couldn’t be walking around uninformed about the basic spectrum of human emotion!

This was obviously what people would call a crush.

Grayson had been the one to attempt explaining crushes and relationships to him. It was a painfully awkward conversation to sit through. His brother spoke of love like a romcom, both cheesy and highly unrealistic. It was by sheer dumb luck Grayson had entered any form of relationship before, and a miracle any of them had lasted more than a week. Anyone with a dash of common sense could tell Grayson’s advice wasn’t a viable source of information. The number of times he’d been pulled aside by someone within earshot of conversation was enough for him to conclude his brother's brain was diluted by hallmark specials and fairytales.

Regardless of his elder brother's delusion, the conversation itself had been unnecessary. Romantic feelings had been explained to him from a very young age. From learning how these emotions could affect one's behavior to understanding not all people felt those feelings, and that was normal too. It was crucial for detective work to recognize the entire range of human emotions. 

Damian didn’t believe in love at first sight. He believed one could feel physical attraction for a person minutes or merely seconds after meeting, but love? How could you love someone you’ve only spent a minute with. Rushing in with that mindset was how you ended up courting someone you’d despise in the end. Outward appearances could tell you plenty about a person, but it wasn’t often you could read out someone’s entire character by reading their shirt. It could happen, but this wasn’t one of those cases.

He hadn’t even had a proper conversation with his seatmate yet. Rushing in at the first sign of attraction was an idiotic way to hurt himself emotionally. He’d need to tread through this carefully, learn more about Daniel, and proceed accordingly with the information he received. 

Glancing up at the clock, he scowled. Students discreetly packed their bags, fidgeting in their seats as they waited for the bell. Nobody liked being in Mr. Rivers's class. He was the type of teacher to pile a month's worth of homework onto any student unfortunate enough to have gotten their work done in a timely matter. Needless to say, Damian found himself with a thick stack of worksheets on his desk every class. Maybe if he were a little less spiteful, he would slack and draw out the original worksheet like everyone else did, but that would imply Mr. Rivers had gotten under his skin. 

Daniel tapped a thick stack of papers on his desk. His name scrawled shakily in graphite on each sheet. Much to his surprise, Daniel had completed every single worksheet their teacher had thrown at him. How he’d managed to do so in such a short amount of time was a mystery, but Damian was delighted nonetheless. 

The boy grinned, pride and a dash of spite written clear on his face. Damian had watched, enraptured at the subtle wilting of Mr.River’s face with every sheet he completed. The teacher had been far too dull to print out random worksheets for Daniel like he had with Damian. No, every single one of those pages was a part of the required curriculum assigned to transfer students. Work required to be graded and submitted no more than a week after submission. 

“Impressive,” Damian commented.

Daniel beamed, foxlike and giddy as he neatened the pile of paper. 

“If all that doesn’t go in the grade book, I’m starting a riot,” Daniel muttered. Damian didn’t doubt him. Tomorrow, Daniel would likely be piled with the same worksheets Damian was stuck with, papers that weren’t graded outside the original worksheet. 

“I’ll join you,” Planning a riot together would be the perfect activity for him to get to know Daniel more. One's true self tended to be clearer in times of war. 

“Hell yeah! Nothing like a less than peaceful protest to bring people together,” Daniel laughed, the bell rang and Daniel’s expression shifted to one of dread.

“I can walk you to your next class if you’d like,” He offered.

"That would be helpful,” A nervous but exasperated smile had wormed it’s way onto Daniel’s face, the other boy subconsciously running a hand through locks of black hair. "I don't think my map would've been all that helpful," He laughed.

Damian inspected their schedules. They shared lunch and a fourth-hour history class, but that was it. Daniel had earth science third hour while he had an art class. A disappointment, but an expected one. 

“Since you don’t have a valid map, I’ll come to pick you up around lunchtime,” He proclaimed as they rounded the corner.

“Sounds good,” With that they parted ways, Daniel giving him a quick wave paired with a smile that made his heart thrum before he stepped into the classroom.

With a sigh, Damian headed down to the first floor. Vibrant paintings and impossibly detailed pencil drawings lined the halls surrounding the art rooms. A giant mural around twelve feet across was the art students' prized project. Massive mountains and towering trees for everyone to see. An outdoor landscape painted with warm colors shifted to the cold colors of city skyscrapers and roads dimly illuminated by street lights. The mural itself took up almost the entire hallway. Not an inch of the remaining space remained bare. Overall, the first floor had more color than all the other floors combined.

Stepping into class, the smell of paint filled his nostrils. Watercolor stained the wooden tables, cracking paint and charcoal smears scattered across the workspace. Conversations from the previous classes were scrawled onto tables. A collaborative drawing between several students having been scribbled over with a conglomerate of charcoal and colored pencils.

The seats were the only part of the table that was mostly bare. Only a few pencil scribbles and scratches. Too many students' uniforms had been stained with dusty patches of charcoal and paint before drawing on the chairs was prohibited, and tarps were placed over them. 

Art was the one class students were mostly left to their own devices. Given full access to the entire range of supplies, with a vague instruction of showing off their progress at the end of class. A giant bookshelf was set up next to a metal wire shelf carrying baskets of various types of paper. The bookshelf was filled to the brim with any and all books art-related. From beginner to expert, sculpting to painting, realism to cartoonism, a book was there to teach you about it. It was against the rules to draw inside any of the books, but post-it notes were stuck to every page of every book. 

Students filtered in like blood slowly oozing from a paper cut. Quiet chatter filled the room, their teacher sitting calmly at his desk. Damian sat with his new sketchbook, staring daggers at the plethora of empty pages. Sounds of cabinets opening and paintbrushes clinking against glass mugs were his background noise. Pencils scratched against paper, soft searching lines filling a blank page, slowly shaping Daniels's features.

From his sharpened canines to the dimples on his cheeks. To the messy way he swept his hair to the side to the light freckles dusted across his face. Drawing Daniel’s scarring proved to be quite difficult. Intricate branches of scar tissue never seemed to look right when he had them on paper, and it frustrated him to no end. When he finally got it right, he could’ve collapsed right there. It was far from the perfection he was aiming for, but he’d have a reference photo by the end of the day to solve that plight. 

This drawing would be more than enough if Daniel turned out to be an… unpleasant individual.

[daisynik7]

Omg Nikki!!! Congrats on the milestone!!!! 🥂 May I submit a request for this fun event? Me & U, Cassie for Gojo Satoru? -Smut if you don't mind ? 🥺

Me & U

It's me and you, I've been waiting, think I wanna make that move now

Pairing: frat boy!Gojo x sorority girl!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.2k

cw: college au, drinking, explicit language, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), cunnilingus, fingering, sex without a condom, creampie, pet names (sweetheart, baby)

Summary: You’re hosting a party tonight to celebrate Shoko’s acceptance into medical school. She invites a few of her friends, including resident frat star Satoru Gojo, who you historically don’t get along with. That changes when you find out his true feelings for you. 

Author’s Notes: Thanks for requesting this @mochimooon! This is a classic y2k hit for the karaoke party! I haven’t written much for Gojo, I find him so intimidating for some reason! But I had fun writing this. I hope you like it!

Shoko kneels on one knee, expertly double fisting Smirnoff Ices as you and your sisters chant your favorite drinking song. “Here’s to sister Shoko, sister Shoko, sister Shoko! Here’s to sister Shoko who’s with us tonight.”

“She’s slutty! She’s sleazy! She’s so fucking easy! Here’s to sister Shoko who’s with us tonight!”

“Now drink motherfucker, drink motherfucker, drink motherfucker. Drink!”

“NOW DRINK MOTHERFUCKER, DRINK MOTHERFUCKER, DRINK MOTHERFUCKER. DRINK!” This last line is the loudest, resulting in an uproar of cheers and laughter as she waves the two empty bottles, showing off her drinking prowess.

She recently got into her dream medical school and you’re hosting this party to celebrate, one last bang before she’s sent off in the fall. It’s only the seniors gathered tonight, all of you squeezing into your teensy off-campus, one-bedroom apartment. The celebrant wraps her arm around your shoulder, kissing you on the cheek. “Thank you for this. Might be the last time I’ll be able to for a while.”

You smile, hugging her back. “Then you better keep drinking while you still have the chance.”

She grabs the handle of vodka on the counter, twisting off the cap to take a swig. “You don’t have to tell me twice."

Since it’s an unofficial gathering of more than three sisters involving alcohol, you decide to do the responsible thing and volunteer to be sober monitor, just in case all hell breaks loose. You nurse a sparkling water, watching with amusement as your sorority sisters gradually get more and more intoxicated, especially Shoko, who’s got a happy buzz going. 

There’s loud banging on the door, causing a few of the girls to shriek. You answer it only to be met by blinding white hair, piercing blue eyes, and that all-too-familiar smirk. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

Satoru Gojo. Self-proclaimed frat star. Notorious playboy. Overall nuisance. And, unfortunately, Shoko’s good friend, which is why he’s here. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him, swinging the door open to let him in. His fraternity brother, Geto, greets you politely with an embrace. You’re fond of him, having spent time with him over this past year after being voted sweetheart of their fraternity. In fact, you’re quite fond of all of the brothers, except for one. 

You’re not quite sure why you and Gojo don’t get along. Maybe it’s because of his arrogant attitude, or his inability to be serious when you need him to be. You’ve had to work alongside him on several occasions, each one resulting in disagreements or petty arguments. Like oil and water, the two of you don’t mix, simple as that. But, for Shoko’s sake, you tolerate him, enough to remain cordial, for the most part. 

“Shoko!” he greets, hugging her tightly. “Happy birthday!”

You notice the other sisters watching them, whispering to each other with giddy smiles on their faces. Of course they’re happy to see him. After all, even you can’t deny his striking good looks and charisma. While the two of them catch up, you stand by Geto, who’s searching the fridge for a beer. “How’s it going?”

He cracks open the can, taking a sip before answering. “Alright. We missed you at last week’s party. Everything okay?”

You smile at him, appreciating his concern. “Yeah, I just had to finish some projects.”

He leans against the counter, gazing at you with a smirk. “You know, Satoru was really excited for tonight.”

“Yeah? To celebrate Shoko?”

“That, and to see you.”

You raise a brow at him. “Me? Why me?”

He laughs softy. “Do you really not know?”

“Know what?”

He hums, finishing his beer. “Maybe I should just let you figure it out for yourself.”

“Geto!” you whine, clinging to his arm. “Just tell me!”

He taps his finger to his lips, winking at you, not saying another word. When he continues to remain silent even after pestering him to elaborate, you leave him, trying to distract yourself by chatting with your sisters. No matter what you do though, your mind always goes back to Satoru Gojo. Why would he be excited to see youof all people? You sneak glances at him as he maneuvers through the party, his impressive stature and magnetic personality taking up most of the space in your small apartment. At least, that’s what it seems like. All your friends fawn over him, eyes sparkling with admiration and lust. All of them except for Shoko, who’s so used to him by now that she’s unfazed. 

You find your way back to her, cradling the half-empty vodka bottle in her hands. “Did Gojo help you with that?” 

She shakes her head. “Nope. This was all me. Besides, Gojo doesn’t drink.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Can you imagine all of that with all of this?” She waves the bottle in her hand. “Pretty sure he would explode.”

You chuckle, observing him further as he performs a party trick involving a blindfold and the beer pong table, successfully making each shot without being able to see. Pretty impressive. 

The night continues. Eventually, most of the liquor stocked in your fridge and cabinets is consumed. All your sisters are drunk, including Shoko, though she manages to maintain her composure well enough to stay up on her feet. Your place is a mess now, cups and cans littered on the floor, trash thrown everywhere except the actual bin, random articles of clothing draped over the couch and TV. It’s the stereotypical image of a successful rager, and unfortunately, it’s your mess to clean up. You don’t mind it too much, especially when Shoko gives you a big smooch on the forehead, thanking you again for hosting. She’s being held between Geto and one of your other sisters, who carry her out the door towards the sorority house where she lives. One by one, each sister thanks you with a loving embrace, all smelling sickly sweet from the liquor. 

Just when you think everyone has left, you’re surprised to see Gojo drag your garbage bin from the kitchen into the living room, bending down to pick up trash.

“You really don’t have to do that,” you tell him, rushing to his side.

“And leave you to deal with this on your own? Come on, I really don’t mind.”

You mutter a quiet, “Thanks,” surprised by his kind gesture. It almost makes you forget about your history together, until he teases, “I take cash or check for my services, by the way.” 

Normally, you’d roll your eyes at him, but this time, you laugh, tossing a few cups into the bin, playing along. “How much do I owe you?”

“Hm…I think I’ll let it slide just this once.” He looks up, grinning at you. There’s a spark for the quickest moment as you hold his gaze. 

Thanks to his help, you manage to get the apartment tidied within minutes. The two of you remain silent for the most part, music still playing in the background on your speaker. He hums along to the tunes he recognizes, picking up the last bits of junk from the floor while you wipe down your sticky kitchen counter. The both of you wash your hands thoroughly, satisfied with your work. 

As he dries his hands, you remember what Geto mentioned earlier. Deciding to be bold, you ask, “I heard you were excited to see me tonight. Is that true?”

A small smirk forms on his lips as he nods. “That is true, yes.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, leaning against the counter. “I just thought it’d be nice to see you. You are our sweetheart, after all.”

There he goes again, being so unserious. You cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him. “Don’t bullshit with me, Gojo. I thought you hated me.”

“When did I ever say that?!”

“You didn’t have to! We’re always bickering over the simplest things. Like right now.”

“And who’s fault is that? You always get annoyed for no reason.”

“Oh, I have plenty of reasons to be annoyed by you,” you scoff, shaking your head at him. Of course your conversation would turn into another argument. 

He scratches the back of his neck, sighing. “I don’t want it to be like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Me and you. Always at each other’s throats. You hating me.”

You stare down at your feet, heat rushing into your cheeks. “I don’t hate you.”

He steps closer, towering over you. “But you don’t like me.”

You peer up at him, defensive. “Well, do you like me?”

He smirks, eyes softening as he stares down at you. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Ready to kick him out, you groan. “Ugh, there you go again, being such a fucking nuisance – ”

Before you can turn your back to him, he grips your wrist, pulling you in for you a kiss. His lips surround yours, warm and delicate against your mouth. “Is this a good enough answer for you?”

You don’t respond with words, but with another kiss instead, wrapping your arms around him to deepen it, tongues swirling around each other’s, desperate and needy. His hands are on your waist, thumbs brushing the plush skin of your belly. You moan into his mouth, gasping for breath. “Gojo.”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he whispers, lifting you easily, sitting you up on the counter. He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your pants. 

“Waiting for what?” you ask, spreading yourself for him, already anticipating his answer. 

He bites his lip, slowly sliding the fabric down your legs, revealing your pretty panties. “To be alone with you.” He spreads gentle kisses on the inside of your thighs. “To have my way with you.” He nuzzles his nose to your clothed pussy, stimulating your clit. 

“And who says I’ll let you?” you huff, pretending to be defiant. You’re already wet, arousal seeping from your slit, pussy aching for him. 

He chuckles, hooking his finger around your underwear, exposing your sopping cunt. “Just look at you, sweetheart. Already so fucking juicy for me.” He puckers his lips around your clit, sliding his middle finger inside you, curving at the tip to reach your G-spot. 

You buck your hips, core tight with pleasure, eager for more. “Fuck!”

Spreading his tongue wider, he smears his saliva over your swelling bud. “You love this, don’t you?”

Bunching his hair in your fist, you shove him deeper into your cunt, rocking yourself on his face. 

“Fuck yeah,” he muffles, eating you out sloppily. “Ride my face. Come for me.”

He sucks on your clit, finger pumping in and out of you relentlessly until you orgasm, thighs squeezed around his cheeks as you ride it out. When you’re done, he licks you clean, collecting all of your cum on his tongue to drink it up. When he surfaces, a cocky grin spread on his face, he runs his thumb along his nose and chin, getting every last drop. 

Your pants are still pooled around your ankles, so you kick them off, leaving you completely naked from the waist down. “Fuck me,” you say, rubbing your swollen clit. 

“Yeah? That wasn’t enough for you?” he teases, stripping out of his bottoms, stroking his stiff cock in his fist. “You need to be filled up, huh?”

All you can do is nod as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, carrying you into your bedroom. He kisses you, sucking on your bottom lip, kicking open the door, tossing you onto the mattress. “How do you want it? Tell me.” His cock is hard in his hand, tip glistening with precum.

“I want to ride you,” you say, hoisting your top off, quickly unhooking your bra. 

His smile widens, crawling up the bed to position himself against the headboard. “That’s exactly what I want too.”

You straddle his lap, rubbing your pussy along his shaft. He taps the tip against your clit, the lewd wet smacks driving you crazy. You guide him inside you until he bottoms out, nestling your ass comfortable onto his lap. 

“Fuck,” he moans, flicking his tongue on your nipple. “Give it to me, sweetheart. Make me come.”

You fuck him slowly at first, relishing the way his big cock fills you up. He sucks on your tits while you ride him, nipples perky between his lips. Soon, you’re fucking him faster, desperate to unravel him the way he did you. 

“Fuck, baby. Do it just like that. Don’t stop,” he whimpers, thrusting his hips in tandem with you. “Gonna make me nut so fucking hard.”

“Come for me, Gojo,” you breathe out, close to your second orgasm.

“You too,” he says, his thumb pressed to your clit. “Come with me, baby. Please.”

Pleasure ripples through your body, pussy tightening around him. He curses, shooting his load inside you, stuffing you full of his seed. He twitches beneath you, cock spurting every last pulse until he’s drained of energy and cum. You collapse on top of him, resting your face on his chest, catching your breath. 

After a brief moment of silence, the two of you listening to your own steadying heartbeats, he speaks. “Wow.”

You giggle, looking up at him. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“Because it’s the first time we’ve ever been alone. Not with my brothers, not with your sisters. Just me and you. I’ve been waiting to make my move this whole time.” He smiles at you, pinching your nose playfully. 

“Well, you waited too long,” you say, cuddling him.

“Better late than never, right?” He cradles you in his arms, snuggling you sweetly. 

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Dragon Jack Fantasy AU Headcanons

So, I know that Jack’s fursona is a snake, because he wants warm cuddles his sunshine won’t run away from, which is where we get naga Jack, but what if he was a different sort of mythical creature?

No, not an incubus, but you can check out my incubus headcanons here and here. I’m talking about a different fantastical creature that still has a few scaly features.

It’s the year of the dragon, and that got me thinking about a certain piece of absolutely gorgeous artwork my friend Mars made back in August, which in turn made me think, dragon Jack AU?

Dragon Jack AU.

Oh hell yeah, let’s get fantastical.

Credit for this beautiful artwork and fueling my inspiration goes to the marvelous Mars, who you can find over here on tumblr and on twitter. Please consider popping on by to leave a kind word or two. Trust me, you won’t regret looking at all of her jaw-droppingly stunning art!

Content warnings: There is going to be spice in these headcanons, and it’s going to get a bit kinky at times. I mean, we’re talking about Jack as a dragon getting frisky with his sunshine. Bad Dragon didn’t get its name for nothing after all. Oh and there’s also some dark themes like going insane from isolation, families being awful to one another, exploitation of workers, bullshit politics in a medieval inspired fantasy setting, deadly monsters attacking people, yandere obsession, that sort of thing.

Overall it’s going to be pretty lighthearted, especially in comparison to the super dark and angst-filled hurt/comfort story that I recently posted, so this post shouldn’t get more intense than the game itself.

The Cursed Prince

Let us begin this AU with the tale of Sunny Day Jack, a poor soul who was damned to be left alone and forgotten by all who knew him. In this case, that place he was left to be forgotten was a castle in the middle of a dark and twisted land, bound by a curse that not even the strength of a dragon can break.

Jack wasn’t always this way. Long ago, he was someone grand, a prince by the name of Joseph, though not in line for any sort of throne. He was the spare of the spare, the unwanted and unneeded family member who was a risk to the true heir to the crown. He had to learn how to be strong and cunning to survive the castle politics, while at the same time he was overlooked and ignored by all.

Initially, Joseph tried all he could to earn favor with his family, to be loved by them, but no one cared. Because his family didn’t care about him, and he had no “purpose” in existing except as an obstacle to the heir to the throne, others often ignored him as well to not risk showing favor and appearing to side with him against the current forerunners to the crown. Acting out and creating mischief that the royal family couldn’t ignore was the only way for Joseph to get people to pay attention to him.

Unfortunately, Joseph pushed his luck one too many times. He ignored a family member’s warning that it would be best if he lived as a dead rat, forgotten and unseen. An assassin struck in the guise of a tutor during one of his lessons. He barely escaped, but uncovered a terrible truth. The family he always hoped might someday truly see him and love him had been behind the assassination attempt. How many members of his family were involved in the plot, he never knew for sure, but their indifference and disdain for him left him with no one he could trust.

The unwanted prince was then forced to flee the kingdom, never to return. Joseph lived as a wanderer, hiding his identity. He changed his appearance as much as he could, even stealing a potion from a wizard once. Sadly, the potion he stole could only change his hair from brown to blue, but it was better than nothing, and he quickly grew fond of the look.

Yes, blue hair is something natural in this setting. This is a fantasy world where dragons and magic exist after all. We can have people with anime hair and eye colors. ;3

The unwanted prince learned the ways of the world firsthand and took many names as he drifted along like the wind. No longer a spoiled prince, he learned how to put on a smile, to placate people instead of antagonize them. He was still alone, forced to be a wanderer until he was far, far away from his homeland, but eventually he tried to set up roots. There, he took a humble job as a jester for a noble, hoping that maybe he could find a new life, one where he could be seen and loved.

Fortune smiled on Jack, as more and more people came to watch his shows, and he earned the stage name of Sunny Day Jack. His performances with silly jokes and stories with sound moral lessons delighted the children. Nobility took notice of him, and he started to make real connections and a real life for himself in this distant land. The lord ruling over the country even eventually took notice of him, a rich and powerful ruler that could afford to throw plenty of gold this entertaining jester’s way… provided he was always entertaining.

Sadly, his good fortune was not to last. Jack got too much attention from the nobility, and a traveler familiar with his homeland took notice of how eerily similar the jester looked to the lost prince.

Word eventually got back to those who saw Prince Joseph, however unwanted and overlooked he may have been, as a risk that could not be accepted. His popularity, however frivolous, made certain people of power nervous that perhaps one day he might return and lay claim to the throne of his homeland.

It was during a performance that the world came crashing down around Sunny Day Jack. The lord that favored him and helped him most with his fame and acclaim had betrayed him to his homeland in exchange for more riches. The trap was sprung as Jack stood before a crowd of hundreds, a sudden accusation ringing out that he was a notorious criminal who had done several heinous acts while the knights of the land came at him in force to arrest him. He barely managed to escape, though not unscathed, his new life destroyed and forever sullied to all who knew his name.

This time the pursuers were relentless. Jack wasn’t known here as a prince in this foreign land. There was no one who would show even a token loyalty to his royal blood and aid him. He was now a heinous criminal, wanted dead or alive, with none willing to give him shelter. There was no way for him to use his former name or royal bloodline to gain assistance, as Prince Joseph was long since declared dead.

Jack was a clever man, and a clever man who has nothing left to lose is capable of anything, including mutually assured destruction. His time as a jester wasn’t spent as a simple fool. Though he tried to be sincere when forging his friendships, truly wanting a life of happiness where he could be loved for who he was, he had tasted betrayal once, and it cost him everything but his life. Sadly, he was prepared should this happen again. He learned how to be charming, and he used his appealing and kind nature to learn secrets that might help him one day.

One of these secrets Jack learned was of magic treasure that the lord’s family guarded and exploited for generations. He also learned of a few secret passages in the lord’s castle, which helped him to elude his pursuers. With nearly all the knights put to the task to capture or kill the escaped criminal, this left the castle vault’s security unusually lax. It granted him an opportunity that could save him, or damn them all.

There in the vault was one of a set of golden cuffs, the symbol and pride of the lord’s family, and the very thing that allowed them to take dominion over the land generations ago and rule to this day. These cuffs were said to possess a magic too powerful for any one person to control, so no one dared to wield more than one at a time, but the truth was that if anyone was foolish enough to do so, they would unleash a terrible curse that would doom the land. This was why they were kept separately, for the safety of everyone.

These cuffs have their own history to them, as a fae was tricked into creating them, a bargain for power and a price not yet paid, which was the reason behind their curse. I could ramble on about ideas I have for how they came to be, but their backstory doesn’t really matter to Jack… yet.

Betrayed, branded a criminal, his hopes for a new life dashed to pieces, and everything spiraling out of control, Jack managed to break into the vault and steal the golden cuff hidden there. Before word of the theft could spread, Jack repaid the lord for his betrayal, launching a surprise attack and stealing the other cuff before it could be used by the lord to fight back against him.

With the power of both of the golden cuffs, Jack defeated all the knights that came for him, but the power he used went out of control as the curse took hold. The power was too much for a human’s body to contain, so it changed him into a fierce creature that was made of magic, a dragon.

The land around him changed as well, the natural ley lines of magic in the land exploding out in all directions and birthing all sorts of monsters from cracks in the earth. It was chaos, and those that could fled. It was a terrible night of horrors so great that survivors who witnessed the apocalyptic destruction dared not speak of it. Over time, the plants in this tainted land grew strange from the saturation of magic, and what few animals that braved to remain in this twisted land were changed as well. The land, once prosperous and full of smiles and laughter, became a dark and foreboding place where humans refused to linger long, for fear that they too would be cursed and forever changed.

Years passed, and with the survivors refusing to speak of what happened, all traces of what happened the night the kingdom fell were lost to history. The name of the country was lost as well. The place was only known as the dark woods now, named for its twisted features and the heavy clouds that covered the land and hid it from the sun. Speculation of its creation sprang up over the years, the details growing more fanciful from storyteller to storyteller until it became only myths. The closest to the truth was that the fae had regained the land and turned it wild, which, in a way, they had when a clever but desperate prince turned fool unleashed the fae’s curse that had long been kept at bay.

What happened to that foolish prince? The curse kept him bound to the heart of the land, making it nearly impossible for him to stray far from the castle where he unleashed the curse. The more he struggled to escape, the more ways the curse would manifest to bind him to the land, chains erupting from the ground to hold him, thorns of an unnatural, cold substance blotting out the sky, monsters birthing from the land to hold him back and inflict pain on him until he could no longer fight back.

Jack had become a powerful dragon, but his power came from the very curse that turned the land into his own personal hell. His body was warped, a scaled monster with wings and horns, terrifying to behold. Those who saw him would flee his presence, save for those that tried to slay the beast that legend has it is the heart of the curse.

The dragon of the dark woods, unnamed and feared by all, was known as the master of the dark woods, dangerous and cunning. Adventurers that dare risk going into the cursed land for its materials rich in magic are wary of the great and powerful beast. Its scales gleamed of fire, its eyes spoke of endless hunger, and its power was unmatched. None could hope to slay this beast, and all who tried all failed, for only the curse itself is more powerful than the beast it created.

Despite it all, Jack struggled to hold onto his humanity. He read every book in the castle, every scroll and scrap of paper, desperate to learn the way to undo this curse he unleashed. Naturally, this was difficult for him to do with giant claws, but unfortunately for the former prince, he had nothing but time to learn how to use his altered body.

As the world forgot about the lost prince, the sunny jester, and the awful day an entire kingdom fell along with the names of all three, Jack started to forget his humanity bit by bit. He didn’t learn how to break the curse, but he did learn of other magical artifacts that had been gathered in the castle long ago, including an enchanted belt that would allow him to change his form into whatever he pleased. He used it to become a “human,” but by that point he didn’t quite remember what he used to look like. The passing years eroded his memory of humanity, and he had gotten used to his imposing dragon body. The result was a form that was a mishmash of both, a humanoid man with scales, a tail, wings, claws on his hands and feet, pointed ears and fangs, with horns and blue hair.

Jack might have started to forget things over the years of solitude, but he was at least certain that he had blue hair when he was still human.

Funny enough, no matter how large or small Jack became thanks to the magic of the belt, the golden cuffs remained fastened to his wrists. The curse wouldn’t allow them to be removed, only warp in size and shape to match whatever form his body took. Even if he were to, say, transform into a copy of a different person to fool someone, his golden cuffs would give away the ruse.

When Jack learned how to transform back into a “human,” he went through the motions of being a human in his empty castle filled with riches that were all but useless to him. He wore clothes again, even learned how to alter the fancy clothes left behind to suit his tastes. He learned how to cook the strange plants and animals of this cursed land. He no longer had any need to eat due to the magic of the land sustaining his flesh, but food still tasted good, and there was some satisfaction to be had from creating something. He kept himself sane with what hobbies he could, learning new things, but he could never learn how he could free himself from his lonely hell.

The presence of adventurers into the heart of his land was both a blessing and a curse. It was rare that it happened, and in fact it was several years after the land changed that anyone dared to venture into the dark woods for fear of being cursed for doing so. It was years more before they found its master at the heart of the cursed land.

At first, Jack was elated. He tried his best to be friendly, overly so, desperate for company and help, but this was before he found the belt that made him at least passably human. It had been so long since he had been around another human that he hadn’t tried to speak, and with his draconic muzzle, all that came out were terrible growls and unholy noises. The adventurers that found him only saw a great horned beast with claws and fangs, another monster to slay for materials, riches, and acclaim.

Jack never wanted to kill anyone. He learned to fight when he had to, though he tried to avoid killing if he could. Unfortunately, when he unleashed the curse, people perished in the chaos, much to his dismay. Though he tried to approach these adventurers peacefully, he would not allow them to cause him further suffering. His power was so great that it was difficult to hold back, so the damage he could cause was severe. He would let those who fought him live if he could, allowing them to flee, but none saw this as a mercy. He became a nightmare spoken in hushed whispers, a challenge for adventurers to overcome, rather than a lost soul desperate to be free.

In a twisted way, over time Jack started to look forward to anyone brave enough to venture into the heart of the dark woods, even if the result was always violence. It was always a rare thing due to the intense danger of the dark woods. Certainly, they would always try to kill him, but at least he got to spend time with another human being! Being alone messes with a person’s mind, especially for such a long time. Humans are pack animals not meant for solitude.

Sometimes these adventurers would leave stuff behind, and Jack kept them. Dragons have an instinct to horde, and the castle is already filled with treasure. Plus they were reminders that humans were still out there and that someday, hopefully, he’d join them as one of them once again.

Jack tried his best to learn how to talk with his new body, to sound friendly instead of fierce. Unfortunately, oftentimes he found himself getting the opposite result, the words coming out of his muzzle sounding strange and uncanny, which only added to the nightmarish legend of the master of the dark woods.

Every encounter with Jack was a battle more fierce than the last, and the dragon’s legend only grew. His attempts to follow after the humans who fled from him led to the land itself stopping him, and others would be caught in the crossfire. To Jack, the humans that came to visit him were his only hope, and he would struggle harder against the curse to escape, to be with them. This made the curse fight back even harder in more brutal ways, summoning worse monsters. Soon the heart of the dark woods was known as a hellish place, where the land itself would turn against you if you tried to escape its brutal master that hunted you relentlessly.

Over the years, humans adapted, as they often do. Adventurers learned to stick with the outer fringes of the dark woods to harvest materials. It was the least dangerous, relatively speaking, and what could be gained deeper in was not worth the cost, especially if they strayed to the heart of the land where its terrible master lay in wait for any poor soul to enter.

It’s been a long, long time since Jack has seen another human, and he’s slowly going insane from solitude. He does what he can to distract himself or escape, trying desperately to hold onto his humanity, but it erodes bit by bit with each passing year. Even gaining the ability to transform into a “human” form hasn’t stopped his ever steady decline into madness. He fears that one day he might lose his humanity completely and become the mindless monster that those who fought him believed him to be.

Perhaps all that Jack and the dark woods need to heal is a little bit of sunshine.

Beyond the Dark Woods

Outside the fringes of the cursed land, time marched on. Years went by, rulers came and went, borders changed as land was annexed or reverted to wilderness. A lot can happen over the decades, especially in a fantasy world filled with magic, monsters, and mischievous fae.

How long Jack was trapped alone in the dark woods is a mystery. Maybe it’s 40 years, or perhaps a lot longer than that.

Regardless, the homeland that once had a lost prince named Joseph is still around, a relatively stable country all things considered. In fact, it had grown over the years thanks to annexing land from other countries that had been weakened by the results of the curse. Monsters often wandered out of the dark woods, putting nearby villages in danger and impressing the need for more adventurers to cull the monsters that threatened human life. What was once a kingdom had grown into an empire, growing prosperous with its many strong knights and adventurers, though like any place, it had its own share of problems.

But enough politics, let’s get into the other characters, shall we?

MC is a knight, as demonstrated by the lovely Thea in Mars’ art. Well… they aspire to be a knight anyway. Bullshit politics have kept them as a squire to a knight of higher nobility since they were a teenager. It’s been over 10 years already! How much longer do they have to wait to become a knight? They’re sick of having to polish and shine Barry’s armor, and if they have to scrub his codpiece one more time…

Yup, Barry is a knight in this AU, though only technically. Nobility sometimes get granted a knight title for some reason or another, usually as a token to honor them and/or their families. These nobles usually  were just knights in name only, parading around as if they’re this grand figure when other knights did the real battling. They can play the hero without ever actually having to go into battle and send squires to do the menial work for them.

In a sense, Barry is a rich man who bought a title because it was cool, and he makes a big show of it. It’s pretty much a vanity project, and a way to increase his clout to maybe move up in the ranks of nobility. He has MC announce his presence grandly, something just as over the top as the greeting to Yogurtopia. Perhaps something like… “Announcing the great, honorable, and very handsome and still very single and looking for a bride, Sir Barry of [insert surname here].” Or something like that, maybe with his noble title thrown in there for good measure. Maybe he could insist his squire plays a horn first…

Man, even with a proclamation heralding Barry wherever he goes, no one is interested in him. He hasn’t had a date in way too long. Maybe he needs his armor to be polished a little brighter.

While MC isn’t Barry’s only squire, they are the one often left doing the work, as other squires slack off or wind up getting elevated to knight despite being younger than MC is. It’s understandably really, really frustrating for MC. They come from a lesser noble house, just barely above a commoner, so they’re an easy mark for any higher ranked noble to rub the power difference in their face.

Really, it’s all enough to make MC consider quitting to become an adventurer. Sure, adventurers are basically mercenaries for hire at the guild and the jobs can be infrequent, and money can be hard to come by, but… Ah, who are they kidding? The squire job might suck, but at least they get the security of steady pay, regular meals, a place to sleep, mild prestige, and they don’t have to go camping in the woods for days on end hunting some specific monster or harvesting a certain number of rare herbs.

Besides, MC admires the knights (aside from Barry). Their best friend became a knight a few years ago, lucky dog. Still, Shaun didn’t rub it in their face like the pal he is. Shaun looks so regal in his shiny silvery armor, even having it adorned with pretty badass etchings and other decorations. There’s a very feline feeling to it as well, since cat daddy has to be cat knight in this AU. Hey, I don’t make the rules.

…Oh, wait. :3c

Anyway, the other knights can be pretty cool as well. There’s this one knight who has been friendly, though MC doesn’t know his name yet. The guy acts strangely shy when they’re around, which is confusing to them. They’re just a squire after all, not a cool knight in studded leather armor like him.

Poor Nick has a crush on MC in this universe too and is pretty tongue tied around them. MC might still be a squire, but there’s just something about them that lights up a room. Their spirit isn’t crushed despite the fact that they should’ve been a knight years ago. He envies how easily Sir Shaun can chat with them.

Of course, Shaun is in the same boat as Nick, in that he also has a crush on MC and can be pretty clumsy with how he tries to express it. Still, in spite of this, he would have tried to see if they could be something more if not for a certain scandal that happened.

The reason why MC is still a squire, or at least one of the biggest reasons, is because of rumors that they were the secret lover of Prince Ian, the current heir to the throne.

Of course, given that MC is barely above a commoner, the idea of them getting together with the crown prince is scandalous. They got to know each other as children, with MC serving as a page to play with the young prince. When the queen caught wind that the prince saw them as anything more than a playmate in their teen years, their relationship got exceedingly strained.

Ian is in love with MC, and they felt the same, at least at one point. All the time they spent together while growing up led to fondness, then sweet first love. Unfortunately, they knew early on how their different stations meant that the chances of them being together were almost non-existent. This led to a lot of mutual pining, moments where they were tempted to act on their feelings, and some secret encounters between the two.

In spite of the queen’s interference separating them, MC and Ian saw each other in secret as much as they could. They started a forbidden romance together, and the two of them convinced themselves that maybe, somehow, they could defy the odds.

But the weight of the crown hangs heavy on the head. As Ian was swept up in his duties and the time he would be crowned as king drew ever closer, he had less and less time to spend with MC. His mother’s interference certainly didn’t help, especially since she was trying to get him engaged to a high ranked noble woman to ensure that he would be able to sire the next generation of royalty.

While yes this fantasy world is far more open with gender expression and loving others regardless of gender, nobles tend to be uptight when it comes to making sure their bloodline and power continues. Plus Ian’s mom is still abusive and controlling of her son in this universe too, and she uses not only religion to bully Ian but politics and duty as well. As queen, she has a lot more power too, and a lot more flying monkeys to spy on her son and interfere.

In a way, it’s lucky that the queen hasn’t decided that MC is a threat that must be entirely eliminated at all costs. No assassination plots… yet. Mostly it’s interference and petty revenge by forcing MC to remain a squire instead of a knight. She could throw MC out, but then how can she occasionally be petty if MC never comes to the palace? MC might be Barry’s squire, but everyone follows the queen’s orders, and a narcissist needs attention and others to bow down to them.

Unfortunately, the queen’s schemes did succeed. Ian, in a moment of weakness, fell for the seductive charms of one of his potential fiancees. He felt awful for betraying MC, to the point that he had to see them despite the risk of his mother catching them, so that he could confess what he had done and beg for forgiveness.

MC’s heart was broken, but what was worse was that it became a huge scandal. Someone had seen Ian’s confession and begging, and soon word spread like wildfire. Now everyone knew that they had secretly been lovers and that the prince was begging a mere squire for forgiveness. Ian’s reputation took a hit, while MC’s outright tanked due to the scandal, and things became much harder for them, and people have been keeping their distance from the squire that dared think they could become a future king’s consort.

Since then, MC has kept their distance from Ian as much as possible, and Ian, reluctantly, has given them space, knowing that he’s messed everything up for them. But… when he’s king, not even his mother will be able to stop them from being together. When he’s king, he’ll be able to fix everything. He just has to do what he can to make sure that happens. Then he and MC can finally be together in the open, stations be damned! Then he can truly make amends and be forgiven for what he’s done.

Shaun was there to support MC with their broken heart. While his becoming a knight has put a bit of distance between them, as he has more duties to attend to, including being sent away on missions for the country, he makes sure to keep in touch and meet up with them as best he can. Anyone who dares to say a bad word about MC in front of him is getting this cat’s claws.

Nick is no stranger to scandals. He’s basically the most popular knight in the realm, with countless admirers. Perhaps they could offer MC a word or two on how to deal with so much unwanted attention and rumors rumbling in the background.

A Squire’s Quest

Now, how does Jack factor into MC’s life without a compelling VHS tape to tie them together? Well, the instigating factor in this universe is that a thief made off with an important treasure, and Barry the knight was tasked with retrieving it. As Barry’s squire, MC was compelled to come with him to assist, which usually meant doing 99% of the work if there were no other squires with them at the time with Barry taking all the credit. But don’t worry, he only does it because he knows they’ll do a good job at it, and it just shows that they’re one step closer to becoming a true knight!

After traveling quite a ways, tracking down the thief (with MC doing most of the work picking up the trail in the first place), the pair realize that the thief went into the infamous dark woods.

Well, that’s not good. Sure there are areas that have been explored for materials, but still… the cursed land is quite dangerous. Barry decided that the best way to divide the work is for MC to continue to follow the thief’s trail, as they were better at tracking, and he, being much better at supervising and dealing with people, would see if anyone nearby could get information about what the thief might have been after, maybe set up a trap that MC could chase the thief into.

MC had to seriously consider their life choices up until this point, but if they quit now, that meant kissing goodbye to the stability they had going for them. Also, it’d probably bring dishonor to their name, maybe damage their lineage permanently, and so on and so forth.

Well, if they quit to become an adventurer, they’d have to do stupid things like trek through the dark woods anyway. Besides, the thief already stole a national treasure, which meant they weren’t stupid enough to go hunting for the invincible dragon guarding the heart of the forest, right? Sure there’s rumors that maybe the dragon guards the greatest treasure of all, but no way the thief is that dumb. No one’s actually ever seen any real treasure, or have a consensus on what the supposed greatest treasure is actually supposed to be.

After a hard internal debate, MC ultimately decides to brave the dark woods, tracking the thief stealthily. They may only be a squire, but they would probably be the greatest knight in the kingdom if not for politics. Their exact combat style is up to interpretation and personal preference, but they’re no stranger to slaying powerful monsters. They’re also used to Barry giving them unreasonable demands like this one.

And, hey, at least they’re not mortifying themselves by singing Barry’s praises when he enters a room while they’re busy with this stupid quest. That’s got to count for something, right?

Right?

Yeeeahh, okay, MC is obviously just lying to themselves and they know it, but damned if they do, damned if they don’t. They swear to themselves that they’ll only go as far as the hunting expeditions usually travel into the forest. If the thief really is stupid enough to go to the dragon’s lair, MC will just circle back and just tell Barry that the dragon probably just killed the thief, or something. No way they’re going to risk getting eaten by an unstoppable dragon.

These thoughts are a small comfort  as MC follows the thief’s trail. Occasionally they have to fight magic-tainted plants or monsters. Their skill shines despite the dark gloom of cursed woods. They even get some nice materials they can sell for some extra cash. Maybe being an adventurer wouldn’t be too bad a gig after all…

Just then the loud noise breaks the eerie calm. Some sort of explosion. Magic? Fireworks? Regardless of what it was, it riled up something. That something is big, nasty, and charging right at them! In fact, it’s a lot of somethings! A pack of creatures got aggravated, and MC is forced to run!

Now, was this a natural occurrence? A bit of misfortune? Did the thief make a false trail to trick MC into going on ahead while they secretly doubled back and used a small explosion to make the monsters go nuts on MC while they used the commotion as a cover to make their escape?

Perhaps. Perhaps. MC certainly isn’t in a situation to figure out which of these possibilities it was at the moment though, as they’re too busy running for their life, inwardly cursing Barry, the queen, the thief, and anyone else that annoyed them lately. If they knew they would die today, they wouldn’t have held back last week when that one jerk stole their cinnamon roll. They would’ve at least had the satisfaction of telling them off for it!

Sarcasm and sass are a good way to cope, but MC knows full well the gravity of their situation. They quickly lose the trail back the way they came, forced to do battle with creatures that are in their path while avoiding being overwhelmed by being so outnumbered. It’s only through a mixture of skill and sheer dumb luck that they manage to survive.

And by dumb luck, I mean that they fell into a catacomb through a ruined ceiling that was keeping it hidden underground.

Well, shit. From bad to worse, right?

Nothing for it, MC is forced to find a way out of the catacombs, then somehow find a way to leave the dark woods without another group of monsters going aggro on them.

Piece of cake. Noooo problem. They just have to avoid the castle at the center of the dark woods that the dragon supposedly uses as its lair, and they’re fine. An old crypt with some undead ready to pop out is better than an unstoppable dragon. Right?

As you may have guessed, MC is, in fact, going in the direction of our lonely dragon prince. Is it just bad luck? Is it some sort of intuition or instinct drawing them to Jack? Are they bound together by fate? Is it some sort of spell Jack has cast that compels humans to seek him out because it’s been forever since a human came by, and he’s desperate for both company and freedom? Maybe some combination of these things or something else entirely. Who’s to say~? It’s up to interpretation/personal headcanon~

In any case, MC is very taken aback when they meet Jack face to face for the first time, as is Jack really. It’s been so long since he’s seen someone. A part of him wonders if MC is actually real. When they get defensive and try to figure out who or what he is, he does his best to placate them, even if they might have their weapon out and ready for battle.

Jack puts his best foot forward, being friendly and welcoming. He invites MC to his home. They look exhausted and like they’ve had a hard time. MC isn’t exactly trusting this at face value, being very guarded about the whole exchange despite how cheerful and friendly this man with wings and horns is being. He’s also getting dangerously close. Should they try to use their weapon to ward him off, like Thea might have done with her sword, Jack is skilled enough in combat by this point to easily redirect her sword with his claws.

Oops, that put Thea off balance. Don’t worry, her new pal Jack is quick to catch her before she takes a tumble.

“Careful, we wouldn’t want you getting hurt, would we?” Jack said, his tone playful.

Despite MC’s skills, they are hopelessly outmatched by Jack. He has far more experience with combat, and he has the insane powers that the curse granted him.

Of course, MC is pretty quick to put together that Jack is the invincible dragon that rules the dark woods, which means that they’re utterly screwed. Strangely enough, Jack isn’t really acting like the monster people whisper about. It’s almost enough to make MC wonder if they aren’t mistaken, but the dragon features and his overwhelming strength kind of gives it away. The fact that Jack brings MC back to his castle pretty much seals the deal.

So MC is stuck as a guest with Jack. The dark woods are too dangerous for humans to wander around alone, especially at the heart of the forest. He’s curious about MC and why they would take such a risk, very concerned by their recklessness. Why were they there?

It’s an awkward situation, but MC has no choice but to play along. How much they resist or comply depends on the MC. I figure Jack indulges even a very resistant MC due to how lonely he’s been. He can easily disarm any attempts to attack him or thwart them from getting away, so they pose no threat. He has all the time in the world to convince MC to lower their guard.

And Jack is just so… so nice. It’s hard not to find him charming. He seems so concerned about MC, and they’ve been having such a hard time with, well… everything. The castle, despite being old, has been maintained decently well. The rooms are decorated so nicely, filled with clothes for them to wear, and the food Jack makes is fantastic. Holy crap, his cooking is out of this world!

Really, the longer MC stays there, the more it seems like there’s nothing Jack can’t do, and their stay is kind of like a vacation in ways. Given how much time he’s had to teach himself new things, it’s no wonder he has become something of a jack-of-all-trades.

I make no apologies for that pun.

Here then comes the classic conundrum when it comes to Jack - does MC fall for his charms, or remain suspicious and hold him at arm’s length? They’ve been feeling pretty lonely and beaten down by life for a while now, and Jack seems almost too good to be true. It’s not like he’s keeping them captive, but they’re in the heart of the dark woods. Outside this castle are some of the worst, most dangerous monsters imaginable. Jack can protect MC if they stay there in the castle with him, but he can’t go very far from the castle, so he can’t help them leave the woods. That is why he’s keeping them from leaving the castle. You know, aside from not wanting to lose the only company he’s had in so many years.

Jack is right about the danger, unfortunately. Whether MC tries to slip away from the castle or just scopes out the surroundings via a window, they find that it’s surrounded by monsters far too dangerous for them to handle alone. There’s no way they could make it, and if they tried, they’d only survive thanks to Jack coming to their rescue.

Of course, Jack acknowledges that MC is powerful. He saw them try to attack him if he did, or he just can tell in simply because they made it all this way on their own. It’s just, well, there’s only so much anyone can do on their own. Sometimes we all need a friend to help us out.

If Jack could leave, then he could help MC leave too, but he’s stuck in the castle. He’s been there for such a long, long time.

Whether his tragic plight is enough to make MC sympathize is, of course, up to the individual. I do know my gal Alice is going to want to help him after hearing him out. Being trapped in this awful place by a curse is a fate she wouldn’t wish on anybody.

Not to mention helping Jack would help MC leave the dark woods. There’s no threat he can’t handle after all. They’d be getting their own personal dragon bodyguard.

Perhaps with a pair of fresh eyes and more knowledge of the state of the world, MC will have better luck figuring out how to free Jack from the curse. Maybe they’ll just play along to not upset their super powerful host so they can escape. It would certainly take time for MC to really trust Jack, even if he seems so friendly and kind… and, they have to admit, this place is lonely and very unsettling for anyone to stay in, even if Jack has tried his best to make it look nice. It’s certainly creepy to be alone here in the heart of the dark woods. The castle is better than the woods full of monsters, but still…

Anyway, the interactions between MC and Jack are up to the individual to decide. Romance the dragon, or flee from the dragon in the end. Being stuck together can bring a sort of fondness, and Jack falls in love. It makes him determined to never lose MC, ever, so he falls down the yandere path, which can lead to some pretty obsessive moments depending on the choices made.

As for the alternate love interests, after Ian receives word that MC disappeared in the dark woods, he sends knights on a quest to find and rescue them, despite the queen’s interference. This of course includes Shaun and Nick, who are the first to volunteer for the rescue mission. Despite the queen’s meddling, not wanting to waste manpower on a thorn in her side, Ian finally takes a stand against his mother for the sake of MC and their love, and the expedition is sent.

Unbeknownst to the knights, Ian sneaks along with them in disguise. He can’t just sit back and wait while MC is in danger. He can’t let them down a second time. He’ll prove to them, and himself, that he’s truly worthy of their love.

From there it’s trials and tribulations of the guys trying to rescue MC from the dragon… provided that MC still wants to be rescued by the time the guys reach the castle.

Really, in order for all of the love interests to spend time with MC and interact, perhaps Jack will be brought back with them somehow, like he found a loophole in the curse or a way to bind him to MC. That way, Jack can leave the forest, so long as it’s with MC, with the added bonus that he can’t stay too far away from his sunshine. It’d create something of a dynamic similar to the game, only in this case everyone can see Jack and learn that he’s an incredibly dangerous dragon that has the power to kill all of them if he so chooses. Not that he would ever! He’s MC’s best friend after all. He just wants to protect his sunshine.

Though chances are MC will want to hide the whole “dragon” thing if they decide to leave with Jack. Maybe coach him on how to better pass for a human. Best not to scare people, am I right?

Or this AU could just stick in the castle where MC chooses to either romance the dragon or flee the dragon. I know which one Alice is going to choose, regardless if they stay in the castle or go back to civilization.

On that note, let’s get to the part that I suspect you’ve all been really waiting for.

(S)laying the Dragon

With Jack being a mythical creature, that offers possibilities for a very kinky fun time. There’s his obvious features like his sharp teeth and claws, but there’s also those long pointy ears that are perfect for nibbling, and maybe offering a bit of emotional expression in the way they tilt. Then, of course, there’s the tail and wings, perfect to wrap around his sunshine. He’s got even more limbs to hold them close!

Now… dragon anatomy is pretty much whatever we want it to be. Bad Dragon has the name for a reason after all. Want dragons to have two dicks similar to snakes? Go for it. He could still have that while he’s in his “human” form too. In fact, with a belt that allows him to change his shape, he could alter himself in very fun ways. A funky fantasy dick with ridges and/or bumps? Perhaps some tentacles anybody?

I mean, Jack has been alone for a long, long time. He’s only had himself to entertain and experiment with. He might have some very kinky tricks that no one has ever tried before.

To be fair, the tail is probably prehensile, so it might be able to be used like a tentacle for sexy times. He might not even need a second dick to plug up all of MC’s holes at once.

Dragons tend to have long tongues, so french kissing Jack is going to be intense, especially if it’s forked too. Then of course there’s oral. Naturally, he’ll be careful with those sharp teeth of his. Well, unless MC is into something a little rougher. Jack doesn’t want to hurt his sunshine (humans are so fragile after all), but if they like a little pain, well, their good old pal Jack will oblige them!

In my personal fantasy headcanons, pointy ears and the base of wings and tails are sensitive erogenous zones. Nibble on Jack’s ears, please! Preen his wings and make him feel loved and cared for. Rub at the base of his tail, and he’ll get hard instantly.

The scales might be harder than armor, but they’re nice and smooth, and have a nice feel. Jack has some control on just how hard or soft his body is at a time due to the belt’s power. Unless otherwise requested, Jack is very gentle with his sunshine, worried about going too rough due to how easy it was for him to hurt others.

Of course… Jack is also so desperately lonely and horny. MC’s presence has been his only bright spot in so long, and he loves them so much. When they love him too… well, it was already so hard for him to hold himself back. It wouldn’t be that difficult to rile him up and make him start to lose control, struggling to hold back his power even as he tosses MC around and takes them.

Naturally, many of my personal sexy headcanons for Jack apply in this AU. This includes a breeding/seeding kink. It’s a bit more pronounced here. If MC has his child then they’ll never ever leave him after all, and they’ll be bound together forever and ever and ever. Even if a child is off the table, the act of breeding/seeding alone is enticing, making them beg him to take them and fill them up with his hot cum is something that he fantasizes about often.

Of course, Jack doesn’t simply want sex with MC, he wants to make love. They make him feel truly loved for the first time in forever. Did he ever feel so loved before? He wants to experience their love in every way he can, fill them up with it until he’s a part of them forever.

Jack won’t ever force his sunshine, no matter how desperate he is for their love or to make love. He’ll go crazy with need, but always hold himself back if they need him to. As long as they love him, he can take care of himself sexually like he always has. He’s just been so empty, alone, and unloved for so long. MC fills them up with love in a way that he can’t live without anymore.

Naturally, when the pair do start making love, Jack can’t get enough, and his stamina is insane. MC is without a doubt going to be the one passing out first after they’ve been fucked senseless with Jack thrusting inside them, babbling how much he loves them and how good they make him feel. The more they go on, the more feral for their love Jack becomes. He’s needed his sunshine so, so badly, and now that he has them and their love, he can’t live without them anymore.

Of course, with a dragon AU and a shapeshifting ability, you can get really creative. For one thing there’s his full dragon form, which would be a giant compared to MC. Size difference anyone? Plus the exact details of how Jack looks in his dragon form could offer interesting possibilities of its own.

Then of course there’s even more furry-related kinks like oviposition or stuff like that. It's not for me personally, but I can imagine Jack would be open to experimentation and indulging in MC’s kinks, even the more outrageous ones. After all, it’s all just more ways to show just how much he loves his sunshine~

You best believe Jack has a predplay kink in this universe. He can smell MC and track them down easily. If that doesn’t work, there’s all sorts of magic he’s learned over the years that can do the trick. Of course he doesn’t want to scare MC, but when it’s good fun, it can lead to a delightfully spicy time~

While I’m on the topic of Jack smelling MC, he is addicted to their scent. The smell of their pheromones easily riles him up, practically sending him into rut like an alpha from Omegaverse!

Naturally, since Jack is a dragon, he has a horde. The castle was loaded with treasure, and it is pretty and shiny. It looks nice all piled together, maybe even neatly decorated. No doubt he’ll want to make love to his sunshine atop a pile of shiny gold coins and jewels, though he’ll make sure that he’s on the bottom so they don’t get jabbed by the hard edges… unless they’d like that, of course.

Of course, the true treasure Jack is hoarding in his lair would be MC. Gold and jewels are nice, but they don’t hold a candle to the love of his sunshine~

Wow. I think this is the longest headcanon post I’ve ever made while sticking with neutral MCs for the most part. I think I’m long overdue to shamelessly self-indulge with my OTP. Let’s see how Alice’s choices will affect this AU and how events unfold, shall we?

Lady Alice of House Rose

Naturally, Alice can’t have the surname of King in a setting like this, so I’m going to use her middle name as the house name.

Fun fact, Rose is the middle name for Barbie and Coraline too!

Yes, that means Barbie’s full name is Barbara Anne Rose King.

Yes. Yes, that pun was indeed intentional.

No, I will not apologize. Her name was picked to be a pun in the first place after all. ;3

Anyway, back to Alice. Being the eldest child, she has the responsibility to elevate the status of her household. Not only are they barely nobility, but their finances aren’t in the best shape. She needs money to help her family, and the honor of being a knight in hopes of gaining a better title.

It’s a shame that the queen doesn’t care for Alice and she’s been stuck as a squire way longer than is reasonable.

Alice knew that it would be impossible for her to marry a prince like Ian, no matter how kind he was, or how close they were. She couldn’t avoid falling for him though. It made her more determined to earn a better title, to make something of herself and earn acclaim. Maybe if she became the greatest knight in the kingdom, maybe she can prove herself worthy of royal consort and be with Ian as his wife one day.

Alice busted her ass trying to be a knight despite all the rough training and being forced to work menial, often degrading tasks as a squire. The weapons she specializes in are the bow and magic, combining the two to devastating effect. She’s also very good at keeping quiet and being stealthy.

In this universe, Alice never had sex with Ian. Although this fantasy setting is more open about sex before marriage, the gap between her and Ian was so wide, she didn’t want to risk doing anything that might ruin their chances of being together. That’s why finding out he cheated broke her heart, regardless of them being physically intimate together. Worse, his outburst when he begged her for forgiveness made it sound like they had been sleeping together to those who overheard, and the rumors were very unkind to the two of them, Alice especially.

Ian cheating proved to Alice that she was only fooling herself that they could be together. Their worlds were too far apart. Ian was to be king someday and she… well, maybe she’ll reach the title of Baroness. Though Ian begged for forgiveness, and Alice gave it to him, she couldn’t go back to the way they were. Advice from Shaun and others helped her see that it was best for everyone involved that she simply remain as the loyal (future) knight and Prince Ian as only her liege.

Let’s skip ahead to the mission to catch the thief in the dark woods. Alice’s best means of combat is the stealth kill. She sneaks quietly, sets up magic traps, fires arrows when the enemy is unaware, and in general takes her time to take her enemy at her own advantage. She actually works pretty well as a solo fighter due to being so stealthy. Though she is good at hand to hand combat if need be, she prefers to strike before her enemy realizes she’s there, and she’s amazing at her skills. Why, if she put her mind to it, she could be a skilled assassin. (Or in another world, a sniper.)

The horde of monsters the thief set off to charge after Alice was almost her undoing. By the time she fell into the catacombs, she passed out from exhaustion, having drained her mana dry. She might have been doomed if a monster came upon her then, but fortunately the master of the dark woods found her in time.

Alice was pretty darn shocked to wake up in a surprisingly fluffy bed, with her armor removed. Not all of it fortunately. She had her modesty protected and her softer clothes still on, but the uncomfortable hard outer plates were removed so that she could sleep peacefully. Jack was apologetic about removing any part of her clothes without asking, even blushing about it, but he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable while she recovered.

Needless to say, Alice is wary of Jack at first, but he did save her life. She does piece together that he’s the dragon pretty quickly and is naturally wary, deciding that the best course of action is to rest up, heal, and carefully get information from the legendary master of the dark woods.

The rumors and legends are so varied, it’s hard to know what exactly is the truth. The dragon of the dark woods doesn’t even have a name, and some of the tales are clearly exaggerations. Since Jack is showing himself to be surprisingly friendly, and he saved Alice from certain death, she decided to trust him… at least enough to remain civil and learn more about him, the castle, and the dark woods.

After asking many questions and getting as much information as Jack can give her (though much of it is confusing due to how rusty he is with socializing), Alice agrees to help him find a way to break his curse. She’s taking a risk, but if she leaves the castle on her own, she’ll die. If she stays, she can keep an eye on Jack to see if he’s really as good and gentle as he presents himself to be. If she has to, she’ll find a way to escape without him if she gets the sense that he’s using her to escape the forest in order to conquer the world or something.

Being very good at sneaking, Alice does slip away to search around the castle for answers on her own as much as possible. However, Jack can’t stand the idea of losing track of her, and all it took was one time of losing track of her for him to leave a magic tracker on her discreetly so he can find her wherever she goes - for her own safety of course! He can’t stand to be far from her. He has to give her time to herself, since if he leaves her with no privacy she won’t trust him, but it’s so hard to stay away. He’s so lonely.

At first Jack’s feelings for Alice are platonic, just a lonely man in desperate need of friendship, but over the time they spend together, getting to know one another, he falls in love and falls hard. Alice, naturally, takes much longer to fall after her relationship with Ian fell apart. At first, Jack is someone she can’t quite trust because he’s a stranger, then she is cautious because he’s a powerful dragon with many unflattering legends about the monster that he is, then it’s concern for the power imbalance between them… but eventually she sees that he’s just a lonely, sweet dork who just wants a friend.

Of course, Alice won’t realize he wants much more than friendship until later. Jack doesn’t want to scare her away after all.

I don’t think Shaun, Nick, and Ian are just going to sit back and wait long to try and find her, but I want to give Alice and Jack plenty of alone time, so I’m going to go with the idea that when humans come deep into the heart of the woods, at first Jack is excited. More friends! Then he becomes fearful when he realizes they’re looking for Alice. They want to take his sunshine away. She’ll leave him, forever!

Well, that won’t do. Jack doesn’t want to hurt them, but he can just make it difficult to find the castle. Maybe use the power of the cursed land to rearrange the forest when the search party isn’t looking, mix them up so that they find themselves suddenly outside the woods. Jack might not be able to leave due to the curse, but he’s not known as master of the dark woods for nothing. He can wield the golden cuffs’ power however he likes, just he can never leave.

Jack just needs to divert them long enough that they give up and leave, or he can find a way to escape with his sunshine’s help. Alice knows many interesting spells, being very creative with magic in ways that he never thought of before, and she knows of things that he doesn’t due to coming from outside the woods. With her help, he is able to figure out a way to free himself from his imprisonment… provided that he remains close to his sunshine. It’s more of a change in the curse than an actual cure for it, but it’s a vast improvement! He can leave the dark woods! Finally! At long last! He can converse with more people! He can make friends! He won’t have to be left alone and forgotten in the dark anymore!

Of course, Alice helps Jack prepare to be around people by helping him refine his “human” form. People aren’t going to understand that the deadly dragon of the dark woods is really just a sweet marshmallow, practically a giant cuddly puppy in human-ish form! When Jack can master looking properly human, they can come up with a cover story that he was a wanderer that found her lost in the woods and helped her until she could get back home. It’s not a lie technically. He used to be a wanderer after all, and everything else is true. He’s been nothing but helpful to his sunshine~

So Alice has to hide the secret of her new dragon friend, who has made it his mission to win her heart. Jack is willing to wait for her to be ready to love him the way that he loves her, even if the wait drives him crazy, but he’s very territorial, not liking the way the other guys look at her. However, Alice does notice his more possessive behaviors even as he tries to remain subtle about them, and she makes sure to keep her new “pet” dragon on a tight leash. Jack is fine with that so long as it means he’ll stay close to his sunshine.

I’m going to say that the change to the curse to bind them together does cause an empathy connection because I really love empath magic. Plus, allowing the pair to feel each other’s emotions and even pleasure and pain is very intimate. When Alice realizes they now can sense each other’s pain as a result of what she did, Jack makes it clear that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe so that she won’t have to experience any pain. He’ll promises to protect her for the rest of his life.

Of course, such a declaration leaves Alice feeling rather flustered. ;3

Overall, it is a bit more of a slow burn than Sunshine in Hell, but eventually the two of them fall in love, much to the dismay of the rest of the male leads.

Naturally love will overcome the curse, because I am an absolute sucker for happy endings. Jack and Alice will find a way to break the curse and remain together so they can live happily ever after. And make love like rabbits hopped up on viagra.

No, I won’t apologize for that pun either.

It won’t come too easily, of course. There’s plenty of people who aren’t going to be keen to immediately trust Jack, and not just the male leads. He came from out of nowhere, with no known background. Alice’s family is certainly going to be concerned by the stranger that waltzed into her life after her heart was already broken by Ian, especially since by the time they meet Jack, she’s already shown signs of crushing on him. The family is going to need to make sure that this new guy is worth potential heartbreak.

Then of course there’s the whole political aspect of things. This country used to be the very kingdom that Joseph was chased out of many, many years ago. The lost prince is a story that could be uncovered to potentially explosive results.

Why, if Jack had the mind to, he could take back the throne and rule the kingdom that once chased him away… with his sunshine ruling by his side after all.

Will that happen with Alice? Maybe. Maybe she’ll actually become a queen after all, or maybe she’ll just live a simple life with Jack who doesn’t let on that he’s powerful enough to level the whole kingdom. After all, all he truly wants is to be loved, and Alice is sure to give Jack all the love he could ever ask for.

Perhaps that love will wind up with a lot of adorable half-dragon babies running around. Though they could be fully human if Jack does become a human after the curse breaks. I kind of like the idea that Jack is freed of the curse, but he is still a powerful dragon and can still use the belt to have fun with his shape. Plus baby dragons are the cutest and the idea of Jack and Alice’s kids being little dragons with tiny wings and cute pointy ears heals my soul.

…Holy crap this ramble went on for 26 pages. That’s over 11,000 words according to google doc! This must be my longest ramble yet, and that’s saying something! Well, I suppose that’s what happens when a dragon lover makes a dragon AU, haha. Fantasy has always been my jam, and I love playing with magical elements.

Anyway, I’m going to take that as a cue to wrap things up here for now. Let me know what you think about this AU and if you want to hear more about anything in particular. Also, let me know if this post inspires you to create anything of your own and please share it with me! I love it that we can inspire one another to create in this fandom, just like Mars’ lovely art inspired me. I hope I’ve given you a few new fun ideas to play with. Thanks for reading this far!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

[maureen-corpse]

All the news that's fit to print from r/fountainpens

So, I alluded yesterday to drama about fountain pen retailers and then I promised in the notes that I might write about the drama. And by golly, I'm going to do that!

First, caveats: I am not deeply involved in r/fountainpens (I only read and never post). I have seen some people talk about a related Discord server, which I am also not a part of. I am generally not deeply involved in the fountain pen community at large. I did join Fountain Pen Network at some point but I haven't posted in years. So, I was not involved in any of the interactions I'm going to talk about, and because some things have been deleted or only talked about, I'm going to be going off of my recollections. Remember, witness testimony is not always reliable! And witness testimony of witness testimony? Goodness gracious.

Also, this may get long, so buckle up.

Now, let's get started.

This is about the Goulet Pen Company. The Goulet Pen Company (GPC or Goulet) is a Virginia-based online seller of fountain pens and related paraphernalia: ink, paper, accessories, some glass dip pens, an occasional rollerball, etc. GPC also features a lot of useful educational tools, such as videos about pens and their various types and the handy Nib Nook, where you can compare the writing of different nibs with most variables removed. Goulet isn't really unusual for this; JetPens, for example, has guides as well. English does love alliteration, though, it has to be said. Go read Beowulf.

Goulet has also been producing a podcast, or as it is more commonly known, the Goulet Pencast, for some time. The main face of the Pencast is Drew Brown (along with Brian Goulet). Now, here's the big thing: Drew is no longer with GPC. The Pencast took a brief hiatus, and people who follow it were concerned, and the most recent episode confirmed that Drew would no longer be a part of the Goulet Pen Company or the Pencast. Drew is a much beloved figure. I personally never got into the Pencast (listen, the episodes are long!), but I saw him in product videos and never saw a reason to dislike him, so I'm sure that the Pencast was a way people really got to know and love him.

Now, Brian and Rachel Goulet, in the most recent episode, did not go into detail about why Drew was no longer with GPC; they confirmed his departure and expressed their sadness. Many r/fountainpen users would like to know more, and so they began speculating. Some came up with benign or not actually that fun for subreddit drama reasons: maybe Drew just moved on. Maybe there was a dispute over pay. Maybe Drew or a family member had a health issue he needed to leave to focus on. Other things were proposed: maybe it was actually a difference of political opinion--Drew seems to lean more liberal whereas the Goulets seem to lean more conservative.

At some point, someone pointed out this portion of a Goulet newsletter that had been sent out (apparently in August):

(transcription in alt text)

I admit: To me, this reads like a pretty typical "Hi we are a small business in the southern United States so here are three vague paragraphs about our life so that this marketing material we're sending has that personal family touch" thing.

However, some redditors latched on to the bit about them being on the startup team for a new church, and that fueled some of the speculation that Drew left Goulet because of political differences.

Now, here's where the Lockening began: someone figured out what the startup church was, probably using known facts about the Goulets (their location in Virginia and the date of the first service noted by Rachel above), and they found the startup church's parent church. And they found a podcast put out by that parent church and they hurried to r/fountainpens to post screenshots of a transcript from that podcast where the speaker compares homosexuality to murder. In the sense of "glorifying sins" or whatever, not saying "killing a man is the same as fucking him." This is the kind of rhetoric I see a lot, so I don't really get surprised and appalled by it the way some folks do. Anyway, the issue then became: do the Goulets espouse these beliefs?

Well, not to worry: someone else found a statement of belief from one of the churches and posted that! (No, I don't recall if it was the parent or the startup, and sadly, I don't have a screenshot.) Anyway, yes, they weren't big on homosexuality, and they were fans of male headship of the family. So fun. There was, interestingly, a line about how complete agreement wasn't necessary for membership in the church.

We don't actually know, still, if the Goulets espouse these beliefs. They're part of the launch team for this church, but I've seen people go to pretty big extremes for churches they don't share beliefs with simply because they like a style of worship better. People put blinders on all the time for things. (Am I making excuses for the Goulets here? I don't know. Maybe I'm trying to be a North Carolinian saying something nice about Virginians for once. I still don't like how they drive.)

Someone also pointed out that fairly recently GPC did advertise products in Pride Month. I don't think it's something they do consistently and the instance someone referenced was in 2022 or something, but that's not a long time ago.

Anyway, that thread was quickly locked, and as far as I can tell, has been deleted. This has not stopped other redditors from making new threads to try and discuss the Goulet Problem further, or to decry the actions of the mods, or to recommend queer-friendly fountain pen stores. These threads are also being locked.

An added bonus is that now without that thread for easy reference--even if it's just locked that means it can't stay at the top for discussion--some people now think Brian was on a podcast saying homosexuality was identical to murder. So! It's a mess! The fountain pen users are pretty cranky. I think that's where we are now, and I think that sums it up, for the most part. I welcome corrections and additional screenshots if people have them. 🫡

And I have not even gotten into the Noodler's thing here. And you know what? I don't think I will.

[user211201]

Good Game

---

Originally posted on 2022-06-06 by dumb-and-jocked.

This was a collaboration piece with @rozza22365.

---

“Babe, how did you know exactly what I needed?” Brenden asked, skipping happily along the trail with his boyfriend’s hand in his own.

“I have my ways,” Chaz replied nonchalantly, although it was evident he’d thought about this long and hard. The whole day had gone according to his plan of making Brenden feel as relaxed as possible. After a very stressful promotion process at Brenden’s hair salon, Chaz knew the 22-year-old was going to need a break. He planned a romantic weekend getaway involving time at the beach, a stroll through the local park, and a fancy meal for dinner followed by “dessert”. Chaz was working hard to help his boyfriend take a step back from reality. Brenden just needed to slow down to keep his miniature body from exploding.

And by miniature, Chaz meant the 5’5 skinnier-than-a-flagpole twink hopping beside him like a delicate gazelle. His stick-like figure (along with the platinum-blonde locks gelled up in the front and a pair of beach balls in the back) often made him a target for bullying, including homophobia. Luckily, Chaz was usually enough to scare them off. The recent college-grad was only 5’11, but thanks to his many years on the swim team had developed a modest frame. He’d also gained a comfortability with public speaking and argumentation thanks to his political science degree. Once he got a job, then Chaz believed he would have everything he would need to be happy in life.

“Oh! Honey, look!”

Before Chaz could even follow Brenden’s sight line, his boyfriend was already skidding across the field. Chaz walked comfortably behind, smiling as he noticed how the light breeze blew through Brenden’s salmon-striped tank and ripped white jeans. Chaz thought about catching up, but he didn’t want to run in his cheap sandals. Not only that, but the last thing he wanted to do was rip his khakis and sweat through his casual button-up. It was already pretty warm out, so any extra effort might have strained Chaz’s body in ways that wouldn’t be attractive.

“Yum…” Brenden was basically drooling as Chaz joined him at the top of the hill. About 200 feet away were a group of jocks wrapping up what looked to be a game of baseball. They all appeared to be around the same age as the couple, except each was about double the size of both boyfriends put together. Even from a distance, one could see the jocks’ bulging muscles, shimmering layer of sweat, and (thanks to their lack of shirts) set of washboard abs. And their gym shorts perfectly showcased the numerous perky behinds and overstuffed pouches. With their hats all turned backwards as well, they looked exactly like the stereotypical college jocks.

“No kidding…” Chaz joined in the ogling, watching as they packed up their gear and started heading out. The boyfriends couldn’t stop admiring how the jocks looked, strutted, and acted. Their physical features weren’t the only thing the pair noticed however. The jocks were all engaging in playful gay banter, fake-kissing and bromanticizing with each other. Although it was pretty obvious that all of them were typical arrogant, straight boys pretending to be men, Brenden and Chaz couldn’t help but fantasize about the simplicity of their life.

The couple watched on as the jocks got into two lines facing opposite directions, ready to give each other the classic “Good Game” sendoff. However, instead of giving high-fives, they instead swatted every butt playfully. Brenden and Chaz bit their lip, every jiggle of a straight male’s buttock translating into a tiny pulse of pleasure through their modest boners.

“Did we…” Chaz started. “Did we just get baited?”

“No, at least I don’t think so,” Brenden retorted, taking a breath. “I think that was all natural. Nothing gay about it.”

“No homo,” Chaz imitated in a broish tone, gaining a laugh out of his boyfriend. “Ready to head out, sweetheart?”

“Just a second.” Brenden was still looking down at the field. “I think the boys might’ve left us a present.”

Sitting on home base lay two blue baseball caps. Making sure no one else was watching, Brenden instantly made a run for it. With a small smirk, Chaz followed behind at a quicker stroll. Apparently tonight’s “dessert” was going to involve roleplay.

“Chazzy! How do I look?”

The blue hat sat comfortably on Brenden’s head, the bill shading his cute face from the harsh sun.

“Exactly like them,” Chaz responded sarcastically, placing the other hat on his head.

“Thanks, bro,” Brenden replied in his version of a broish tone before leaning in for a kiss.

“Mmm!” Chaz was surprised to feel his boyfriend’s tongue quickly slide through his mouth. Once they pulled apart, Chaz stopped any further affection, “Darling, let’s roleplay when we get home.”

“But no one’s here,” Brenden whined. “No one will see us. Now, flip your cap around.”

Chaz quickly surrendered, too horny to use any of the argumentation skills he had learned over the years. Rushed, he did one more sweep around the field before following instructions. Brenden flipped his own as well, letting the front of his quiff pour out of the empty hole in the front. Instantly, the pair felt a sharp shock strike through their bodies. They physically lurched in extreme agony for a moment, but seconds later they had already forgotten about the pain.

“So what do you say, babe,” Brenden tried replicating his broish tone again. “Should we…”

Chaz, getting the memo, leaned down for a kiss. He closed his eyes, ready to feel his boyfriend's soft lips touch the bottom of his own. Chaz kept feeling himself get lower and lower, but eventually he became confused as to why he hadn’t reached Brenden yet.

“Dude! Open your eyes!”

Chaz’s eyelids lifted to reveal Brenden’s crotch right in his face.

“Ah ew babe!” Chaz backed away in disgust. “How could you prank me like that?” Brenden however was laughing so hard that Chaz could see each one of his skinny abs rippling on his lanky body. The 6’5 beanpole was cackling up a storm.

“Gotcha!”

“I didn’t even realize I had leaned in so far,” Chaz joined in with Brenden’s jovial nature. At 6’4, he must’ve bent almost straight down in order to get to his boyfriend’s crotch. “Ok, so can I kiss you now?”

“No bro, we’re still roleplaying.” Chaz noticed how Brenden was getting more in touch with his broish tone, so he decided to follow suit.

“Alright then…broski…what’s next?”

“What’s next babe is a game of gay chicken.” Brenden appeared extremely eager for this. Chaz could tell by the way his boyfriend’s cut-like-steel and shaped-like-diamonds calves bounced excitedly back and forth.

“What’s that?” Chaz replied, positioning his own legs out into a kickstand. Thanks to his khaki shorts, people were also able to see the fine, rugged calves he owned. Similarly cut like Brenden’s, yet just a little tanner and meatier. Although if Chaz ever brought this up, Brenden would just compete by acknowledging how he was slightly taller so his calves were drawn out more.

“It’s simple, bro. It’s where basically two dudes get as close to a kiss while trying not to. The person who kisses first loses.”

Chaz considered this, a little thrown off by the game. The rules seemed simple enough, but why would his boyfriend want to play this? Chaz was so horned up right now that he could just stick his head between Brenden’s two massive thighs. Chaz could just daydream about how if he placed his skull into Brenden’s gym shorts, then his boyfriend would probably be able to break him open like a ripe watermelon. Their chunky, meaty size was almost tangible, but unfortunately that’s not the game his boyfriend wanted to play right now. Chaz instead reminded himself that it could happen tonight for dessert.

“Ok, I’m in,” Chan announced, suddenly enthused over the prospect of a challenge. He clapped his own thighs together in anticipation, sending ripples across his soft and muscular quads. Just like his boyfriend’s, they too filled his own gym shorts nicely, looking like candy with a tight wrapper.

“Sweet dude! Since I brought the game up I have to go first.” Although Brender had seemed excited, Chan noted the new tone in his voice. The use of “have'' accented a new emotion laced into his boyfriend’s words: fear. The emotion was also evident in the way Brender’s torso was super tense. The man’s abs were extremely hard, flexed to their max capacity. His tender pecs were solid while his silver-dollar nipples were rock hard. Even the man’s delts displayed apprehension, hiding away from their true larger-than-life wingspan.

Slowly but surely, Brender slowly reclined forward. To make sure he didn’t get too close and lose in the first round, he placed a porcelain hand against Chan’s carved chest. He subtly felt up his boyfriend’s 6-pack, noting how each one felt like a stone plucked straight from the earth. Brender’s finger ran up the valley into the upper torso, giving each of the mounds of flesh Chan called pectorals a cheeky squeeze. He also made sure to give a little flick to one of Chan’s nipples, which truly looked more like an udder than something meant for nothing.

Brendor got close, but he paused at about 6 inches. “Gonna be hard for you to beat that!”

“Pfft, sure bro.” Chant was pretty confident this wouldn’t be as difficult as his boyfriend had made it look. Chant took a similarly sluggish speed that Brendor had, making sure to move forward at a cautious pace. To assure he didn’t fall forward, Chant grabbed his boyfriend’s massive arms. Brendor’s forearms were so long and sturdy with veins accentuating their muscular mass. His biceps were so firm and his triceps had a similar amount of vigor. Even the other man’s hands were gigantic, looking big and solid enough to catch a baseball without the mitt.

Getting to the 6-inch mark that Brendor had made it to, Chant slowed down his pace even more. He felt his own brawny appendages become strained, his own veins snaking across robust arms. Similarly to Brendor, Chant’s biceps stood as two proud mounds atop his tanned flesh. His triceps had a identical mass, and his forearms displayed a strength that had been built up over years of hard work. His heavily-calloused, giant hands only furthered the argument by looking more fit for a package of Hamburger Helper than a human being. Right as he passed Brendor’s previous attempt, Chant gave an obnoxious set of kissy lips before taking a step back.

“Almost had me there bro,” Brenor replied in a tone that was deep, masculine, and empty.

“Huhuhuh, you wish dude.” Chent couldn’t help but guffaw, his voice an almost identical replica. Absentmindedly adjusting his rope wristband, Chent felt a rush of adrenaline race through him as he said, “Ball’s in your court.”

Brenor gave a quick nod, his bulging Adam’s apple shaking in agreement. Bending his tremendous upper traps, Brenor approached Chent’s face once again. While watching his boyfriend dip closer, Chent took his time studying every part of the other man’s face. A square jaw loosened gently with some baby fat that made him look extra adorable. Eyebrows bushy but his brown hair was at a crew cut length beneath the cap. Big nose to circulate air while working out and fading eye black to advertise that there wasn’t much behind those dull brown eyes.

Reaching in on Chent’s last milestone, Brenor carefully cupped one of his gargantuan hands against his boyfriend’s face to steady himself. He loved how it perfectly fit against the other man’s carved jaw, the way it caressed the other man’s Neatherandthal-like bone structure. He couldn’t stop himself from analyzing Chent’s crooked nose after being broken from a previous game, or the way that his blond crew cut matched his light eyebrows. Even Chent’s lackluster eyes had a certain shine to them. He wasn’t hypnotized by the looks however, he was just purely appreciating aesthetics. And with that realization, Brenor pulled away gleefully.

“Let’s go bro!” Brevor cheered, stomping his Size 15 blue Nike’s hard on the ground.

“I thought I was just about to win there, babe.” Crent playfully kicked Brevor’s shin with a Size 14 black Adidas, not noticing how the term of endearment had come out more like an insult. Noting his socks had fallen down a little, he faithfully bent down to pull them up before continuing.

“You still have time to surrender,” Crent sniggered.

“Nah bro, you’re about to fade!” Brevor may have been right, that last stretch was getting close. But that didn’t mean Crent was going to give up! Confidently, he grabbed his boyfriends behind and pulled him in. Crent may have been focusing on his game of gay chicken, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to feel up his bro’s ample bottom on the side. And wow, was he glad he did. It was thick and tough. Soft, yet too muscular to derive any pleasure from. Sneakily, Crent shoved a finger into Brevor’s butthole, finding it was way too tight to be welcoming.

“Hey!” Brevor yelped.

“Sorry, brohama,” Crent purred. “I’m just luring you in.”

“The point of the game isn’t to turn me on, dude,” Brevor sneered. “That’s a different game of gay chicken.”

“I just gotta get comfortable, bro. Just doin’ the same thing to you I do to a…”

Crent stopped himself, unsure of what word was supposed to finish that sentence. Instead of dwelling on it however, he continued. With one hand still on the butt, Crent slowly explored the rest of Brevor’s midsection. He found a pair of heavy kumquats hiding in the man’s shorts, so large they were probably painful to contain in clothing. Above those was his boyfriend’s babymaker, a soft 7 inch sausage stuffed not so subtly. Right as Crent passed Brevor’s previous point, mere centimeters away from the lips, Crent gave the other man’s dick a quick squeeze and backed off.

“Is somebro feeling a little frisky?” Brevor remarked.

“We’ll see when you kiss me,” Crent antagonized back. Not being one to back down, Brevor stuck his hand right into Crent’s shorts. Finding the soft 7 inch joystick, he pulled the other man so close that he could feel Crent’s balls rub against his. Even though they were separated by layers of fabric, Brevor was able to feel their succulent, robust nature. After giving the pouch a good squeeze, Brevor found that Crent’s buttocks shared the same descriptive adjectives. Succulent and robust, but also tense.

“What…what are you doing…bro?” Crent murmured, finding Brevor’s actions were a little less playful than his own.

“I’m losing.”

And with that, Brevor pushed himself into Crent’s lips. At first it was only Brevor kissing, but Crent got the memo and quickly began reciprocating. It wasn’t very long and it wasn’t involving tongues, but it was a kiss nonetheless. Both of the men felt odd and weird about the kiss, but part of them felt good about it too.

Immediately, the two men felt their dicks get hard followed by a constantly-looming need to touch them. Being preoccupied by their strange kiss however, they could only think of one way to resolve their issue: grinding. The two bros instantly started humping each other, as if the same, horny thought process was guiding their decisions. But with each rub against the other body, their attraction and horniness faded, becoming nothing more but amusement towards each other. The thought of actually liking each other felt pretty gay. And the more the two bros shared their gaze while kissing and humping, the less desire they felt. Instead, they discovered a great friendship and comradery towards each other.

The fading of attraction towards was closely followed by their homosexuality as a whole. Even though they were physically with their bro, they were mentally dreaming about boobs and tight pussy. Their homosexualities weren’t the only things disappearing however, as their IQ had been steadily dropping during their entire process of “appreciation of the male form”. Their minds began restructuring, new memories settling in and piecing together their new lives.

Flashes of sports, porn, and endless sex. Bad grades and rich parents, privileged backgrounds and dull futures. Lots of banter with the bros, even a bit of gay banter. Obviously, they sucked and jerked their bros off every now and then but that wasn't gay–just dude stuff. Sometimes they even destroyed nerds’ holes in order to make them do their homework, but as long as they topped it wasn’t gay. And a simple “no homo” always cleared things up though.

Laughing more as they humped, the two men (if they could really be called that) began thinking of this more as a stupid game. With so many memories of banging and impregnating countless cheerleaders and sorority chicks over the years, the thought of being gay seemed like a foreign concept. Just the idea of motorboating or ramming their cocks and seeding some bimbo made the two jocks want to-

“OH BRO!” they both shouted in unison as giant blasts of cum soaked the front of their shorts. With IQs under 90, the pair began showcasing the best of male intellect by jokingly rubbing their wet fronts against each other.

“You’re such a fag, bro!” Trent guffawed. “I knew I was gonna win.”

“Oh whatever dude,” Trevor huffed. “I wasn’t the fairy who was enjoying it.”

They both continued bantering with each other before realizing the rest of their crew had already gone back to the frat house. Accepting defeat for now, Trevor smirked and gave Trent a playful spank.

“Good game, bro,” Trevor ceded. “But I’ll getcha next time.” Trent chuckled dully before giving a smack back to Trevor’s behind.

“Sure, broski. Good game.”

[faetthorn]

Probably my only contribution to the Pathologic fandom

Some important words below, if you're a patho fan take the time to read them

TW: pedophilia, SA, grooming, racism, colonialism

So I got into pathologic in july and almost instantly got hit with a post about the allegations from back in 2021 against Nikolay Dybowski, game creator and founder of Ice Pick Lodge. He’s groomed several girls ages 15-18 and inclusively has used his position as a member of HSE University in Moscow to do so. 3 years on and people have all forgotten this and are happily cheering for the bachelor route like nothing ever happened 

Yes I know you all wanna forget abt the uncomfortable situations, after all "what can we do" right? I wish I could just pull a switch in my brain and forget too, but I'm a victim of SA and child grooming, and I can't play this game without remembering what its creator did. The worst part is that the characters mean a lot to me. I got into pathologic while suffering from ptsd related nightmares and Daniil, Artemy and Clara brought me a lot of joy and comfort. Even now they and some elements of patho’s story mean the world to me. It hurts to be constantly reminded that everyone is against you, no matter how much you appreciate their work, no matter how much time and money you put into doing it.

I'd properly join the fandom and start calling for a boycott and for these allegations to be discussed and reminded of again but I just know it'll never happen. I'd be ignored or get a thousand replies "oh but the employees, they have nothing to do with it!!" "it's just a game!" "it'll get you nowhere!" “age of consent is x y or z in this country!” "stop being a vindictive little bitch!" "*insert rape threat here*" I expect to receive 0 support on this post and I'll block anyone I need to. Just wanted to let this out of my chest even if nothing will change: Petitions don't work, they never did and they never will. Passivity and politeness never got ME shit, at least.

DOXA, the rus student newspaper investigating these allegations was raided by police (1, 2) and recently considered an undesirable organization by the government. The courts and police would never do anything about this and they’re clearly more invested in persecuting student groups that have even the most basic feminist goals. HSE University didn’t get involved in any libel suits so as far as we know Dybowski wasn’t even fired. Not only is he the creator and chief writer of the games but he's also the head of the studio. Spreading awareness and boycotting is the only way justice can be made (at least in a way non-russians can participate). If you’re considering playing pathologic i cannot recommend it and i don’t want to be the reason someone gives more money to Dybowski. You don’t need more harmful shit when you have 2 games, a dlc and wonderful fandom content the game would never make canon. Hell, PIRATE all the games if you really need to. When the bachelor route comes out the IPL employees will have already been paid for it. Also, let’s not forget that WE DON’T KNOW where the profits we give will go. They might go to CP, they might go to the rus army attacking Ukraine and occupying former USSR territory and Syria.  

I wonder why it's so easy for you all to rightfully call to boycott anything related to zionism without making excuses but then when it's a pedophile with countless cases of grooming and very probably rape you all stay quiet and do nothing just because it's your precious little interests. It's almost like it's all performative

In the same vein, there needs to be a discussion about how violently racist this game is because this art came from anger and sadness. I’m not indigenous but i’ve followed native activism for years and i wouldn’t have the beliefs i have today without the opinions of indigenous people. I know feeling betrayed by the art you use to cope with how horrible reality is is tough. Not only does this game have extremely racist stereotypes and portrays natives as a monolith, but it’s also unsurprisingly misogynistic in an extremely colonial way (need i remind you of Willow, the way the herb brides are dressed or the fixation with portraying steppe people as woman-sacrificing brutes). Not to mention the extreme cruelty of patho 2’s endings. Which is way more insulting when it’s directly tied via the in-game use of Buryat language and inspirations to the native peoples of Siberia who Russia colonized and whose culture is still actively repressed, at a time when the weight of colonization (environmental catastrophe, poverty, sexual violence and more) makes indigenous people commit suicide at a way higher rate than any other ethnicity in many countries, and this includes the native people of Siberia who this game “pays homage” to (1). This fandom in general needs to start being way more critical and checking their own racism too. And to any native patho fans i’m obviously not here to tell you how to feel abt patho’s racism

Well, there it is. I have no hope left to ask anyone to boycott the bachelor route or the other projects Dybowski's created but if this makes you think about the things you throw money at it’ll be something

Edit: I apparently need to clarify something since certain people have been pestering me about it. I'll keep standing behind the part where I say the profits (not the money used to pay the employees, the PROFITS) might go to CP and the rus army and I'll expand on why. The CP part is more than obvious, after all we're talking about a guy who has been sexually abusing underage girls since allegedly at least 2012 with full impunity. The army part might seem like a stretch but if it does to you there's things you need to understand. To pro-Palestine people it's already common knowledge that misogyny and sexual violence play a HUGE part in colonialism and in russian colonialism it's no different. Dybowski is a misogynistic, violent abuser (because YES csa is violence, always), with racist, pro-colonial views as seen in pathologic. It's a REAL RISK. No pro-Palestine person would ever buy something from an israeli with Dybowski's track record who has given absolutely no statements on the invasion on Palestine while said invasion is ongoing, so the same should apply to Russia. And let me repeat once again: we are not responsible for the IPL employees' well-being and payment. Dybowski is.

[utronabalcone]

walking on glass, december 12, 2006 by the fader.

computer love

the intimate punk pulse of crystal castles.

crystal castles makes electronic music that sounds like dial-up modems making out—a drunk and exuberant boy/girl scrape at 2400 bps. songs stomp ahead with teenage determination, alice’s breathless, blushing shrieks bursting claudio’s turbografx keyboard swells. their music feels sweaty, but in a good way—like a palm after it lets go of the trackball.

“i found a keyboard in the garbage next to my building,” says claudio, the group’s defacto producer. 

“i tried getting it to work, but it wouldn’t. a week before, though, i had found an atari 5200. so i ripped the soundchip out of that thing and put it in the keyboard, and i started being able to control the sounds.” he gave a dozen or so makeshift beats to alice, a local toronto girl he knew only by virtue of a friend’s crush. months later, when they finally got together in the studio, the keyboard broke, the mic was scratchy, and things were so fucked that the recording (which has since become their signature song), “alice practice,” was actually just that: alice singing for the first time over a beat, testing levels and dealing with busted equipment. frustrated—or maybe just indifferent—the two stopped talking to each other. six months passed before claudio listened to the disc again, and created a myspace account (the name crystal castles was a spur-of-the-moment tribute to she-ra’s homestead) to upload the songs. two hundred thousand plays and one year later, labels started calling, forcing claudio to reconnect with a stunned alice. “she was like, ‘we were testing the fucking mic! what were you fucking thinking about!’” their glitches have found kindred spirits in buzzy “new rave” uk bands like the klaxons, whose teeth-grinder “atlantis to interzone” the castles recently remixed. touring with the band overseas, the young canadians got drunk and got noticed, with opportunities to play everywhere from the venerable bbc to brighton mp3 blog 20 jazz funk greats. even with such newfound attention, claudio and alice remain a pretty private pair, politely refusing to reveal last names—or, maybe more interestingly, ages. “i’m not old, but I’m not young,” teases claudio. “I am a decade older than alice.” he insists they aren’t involved with each other, just partners in an exercise in serendipity. “we weren’t even a band! this is just some shit we put together.”

more info on my blogspot.

[fallenangelics]

The Taste of Your Lips All Over Mine

PAIRING | Angel Dust/Husk

WORD COUNT | 2632

SUMMARY | Invited to the annual Overlord ball, Angel has big plans for the night. With his father and brother overlooking his every move as the family business is put in jeopardy, there isn't much room for mistakes. Good thing Angel's target for the night willingly walks straight into his trap.

RATING | Mature

WARNING/TAG(S) | Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

A/N | @rubra-wav created the beautiful banner below so go check out their content since they have some amazing stuff.

EVENTS | @eclipsingbingo | First Kiss | Whispering Sweet Nothings | @fandombingo | Repeatedly Checking Their Pulse To Assure Yourself Their Still Alive | @multifandom-flash | Drugged Lipstick | How Many Fingers | Have I Mentioned I Am Sexually Active Today? | @fandom-free-bingo | Curiosity Killed The Cat | @character-a-character-b | Primal Encounters

AO3 LINK | Read Here

The dress that Angel wore hugged every curve of his body, keeping him snug within the black and pink fabrics. As he walked through the Overlord gathering he held himself with poise, playing the part he needed to for tonight. 

It wasn’t often that a gathering such as this was held. The monthly meetings were a bore of politics that Angel never bothered showing up for, sending his brother in his place so he could hear the conversation later on, but this was different. This was an event that only happened once a year, a gathering of everyone important with even the chance of one of the Deadly’s making an appearance.

Angel had a mission though, one he couldn’t afford to mess up while his father and brother were mingling in the crowd keeping Sinner’s occupied. Recently a chunk of their territory had been stolen, and with it vanished some of their profit all due to a certain Gambling Demon earning more confidence and attempting to reach further across the pentagram.

Though Angel hadn’t cared personally for the loss, his family had taken it as a personal attack, sending him to deal with the problem and what better place than the annual gala that he would attend? That’s why he was walking around the large hall looking out for the short demon while in the best dress he could find, hoping to catch his attention one way or another. 

It was a shame it was Angel who had to complete this mission since he would much rather spend the night getting drinks and mingling with some of the crowd but he couldn’t blame his family for being picked as he was the best choice for this job. No one could seduce an Overlord like he could, it was how he first started getting his family some recognition before they began climbing the ranks of Hell.

A quick and seamless job is all he could hope for but he wouldn’t mind if it got a little bit messy; That just came with the territory.

It wasn’t Angel who found the Overlord, instead, Arackniss came towards him, his pace slow as to now raise any alarm bells, simply making it look as if he had something to say to his brother that didn’t involve singling out an attending Overlord. Having to end his current conversation with one of the Vees who were trying to strike a fashion deal with him, Angel made room for his brother, waiting to hear the new intel.

“You’re boy is over by the bar,” Arackniss started, tossing the drink in his hand in a circle as he stared into it, subtly flaunting the liquor that Angel wasn’t currently allowed to drink. 

Though Angel knew better than to look over at the bar immediately, Angel couldn’t help but take a glance at who may be seated over there. Upon seeing the workers attending the event, he also caught sight of an overly red Overlord sitting beside his short but well-groomed target.

Beginning the short journey over to the bar while doing his best not to spark any unwanted conversation on the way over, Arackniss snorted from behind him, “Don’t fuck it up.”

“I’m not goin’ to,” Angel hissed over his shoulder, shooting his older brother a glare before he focused back in on his target. 

Making sure to rid himself of any prior annoyance, Angel sauntered his way over to the bar, situating himself on the other side of his small target before feigning as if he hadn’t noticed him, instead making a show of pondering what he might get from the drink menu provided.

The ditzy dress may have made him look clueless, or the fact that he was almost unrecognisable as an Overlord since he almost never attended meetings, but the golden eyes of his target turned to his, Alastor turning to shadows as the attention left him. Angel continued to ignore him, waiting for the Overlord to speak up before letting him fall into his trap.

“If you need help I can see if they’ll let me whip something up for you,” His gruff voice pierced through Angel’s ears, making him slowly turn his gaze towards him. Schooling a drink of his own that was almost empty, the Gambling Demon stared up at him, half a smirk lacing his features. “Of course, I’m sure anything on their menu will do.”

“I bet you’d be able to make me somethin’ perfect if you’re offerin’,” Angel took him up, taking a slow seat as he watched the Overlord shoot one of the workers a look, gaining approval which the Sinner would’ve been foolish to deny before he was rounding the counter and taking a look over the stock that the bar had. 

Using the time it took the Overlord to place a martini glass in front of him and begin throwing different alcohols in a mixer, Angel took in his appearance. He wore clean black dress pants paired with some slacks, a slightly lighter suit jacket lined with gold covering a simple white shirt, all of it being topped off with a golden bow. Angel couldn’t help but admire how his hair was slicked back or how the red of his wings almost glowed in the lighting.

“So, what brings a guy like you to one of these parties?” The Overlord questioned as he slid the drink over to Angel, not a drop of it spilling as he came to a stop. Bringing the drink to his lips and taking a slow test sip, making sure the glass or the liquid didn’t actually touch his lips, Angel felt the eyes of the Overlord on him as he swallowed. “I don’t think I’ve seen your face at one of these things before.”

“Oh, my brother invited me. He’s recently started workin’ for one of the Overlords and is apparently ranked high enough for the both of us to turn up here,” Attempting to act as if it were no big deal Angel flapped one of his free hands around, waving off the status he held to lower the Overlords guard. “But what about you mista? What’s a fancy little kitty like yourself doin’ up here?”

“I’m one of the Overlords that’s meant to be trying to bargain for more territory or some sort of deal,” He acted as if the title was a pain in his ass as if it was more hassle than it was worth as his eyes quickly skittered around the room, easily tracking the other Overlords that were doing just that. Pushing one of his hands forward, he offered it to Angel, waiting for him to take it before bringing it softly to his lips where he placed a delicate kiss on the back of his hand. “Where are my manners? I’m Husk, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Throughout the whole interaction, Husk kept his golden eyes locked with Angel’s two-toned ones, both an intimidating aura surrounding him that radiated power as well as a comforting glow that wanted to reach out to him. It was almost as intoxicating as the drink Husk had made for him. “Angel, it’s nice meetin’ you.”

“Hm, fitting,” Husk hummed, his smirk growing if that was possible. Remaining on the opposite side of the bar, Husk leaned forward, resting his forearms on the countertop as he stared up at Angel through lidded eyes. “Who did you say your brother worked for, again?”

“I didn’t,” Angel muses, finishing his drink before he sets it down and leans into one of his hands, resting his head there as he matches Husk’s expression. Doing what he did best, Angel propped his chest fluff up as his dress opened up, one of his fingers toying with the stem of his drink as his lashes fluttered. A quickly raised brow from the Overlord pulled a chuckle out of him, adding, “But he works for the Mafia Demon I think. I tend to tune him out when he rants about work.”

“Maybe you should start paying attention,” Husk spoke slowly, his deep voice gruff around the edges as the words were almost purred to him. Angel couldn’t help but wonder if there was an underlying meaning to Husk’s words. “You never know when he might say something important.”

“I’ll start payin’ attention when he starts talking about somethin’ interestin’,” Angel responded in a purr of his own, bringing a finger up to trace down the fur that lined Husk’s cheek. It wasn’t often an Overlord allowed him to get this close and personal, especially not when they knew who he was. “I ain’t got time to worry about which goon he chased after or whose debt he’s out collectin’. This however is quite interestin’ and seems worthy of my time.”

A huff of laughter snorted its way out of Husk, glee lining his golden eyes as Angel stared into them. He couldn’t help but work his charm; If the old sucker fell for it then that was on him. 

“Say, why don’t we get out of here?” Husk offered, one of the corners of his lips ticking up in a smirk. Staring up at Angel with hooded eyes, mischief poorly concealed behind them, Angel knew he had the Overlord right where he wanted him. The way Husk leaned forward before speaking as if sharing a secret, told Angel everything he had to know. “Away from prying eyes. Somewhere it can be just the two of us.”

“I think… that’s a brilliant idea,” Angel paused deliberately, taking a second to think over his next words as if this had all been a spontaneous encounter. Taking a look around the large hall that they were currently in, Angel’s eyes landed on his father's and Arackniss’s, both of them watching him and Husk’s every movement. It hardly did anything to light Angel’s nerves on fire, instead turning back to stare into the warm glow of the Overlord turned bartended in front of him. “Too bad I don’t know any places nearby. I wouldn’t want to keep a pretty thing like you waitin’.”

“I’m sure I can figure out something for the two of us,” Husk shrugged off Angel’s feigned worries, his posture remaining confident as he stared up at Angel from where he leaned. “I do after all own the building we’re hosting this in.”

That piece of information had been something Angel missed. He wasn’t certain if he wasn’t listening close enough when he was being debriefed on the mission or if it had been something his whole family had missed. Regardless, Angel hadn’t a clue he was standing on enemy territory until a few seconds, nothing having given away since the building was located on what could be considered neutral turf. “Why don’t you leade the way then, Handsome?”

As Angel spoke to him, a challenging glimmer sparked to life in Husk’s eyes. Chancing a glance over Angel’s shoulders for a few seconds, locking onto something before they flicked back to Angel’s. Leaning up for a kiss, pulling Angel down slightly so he could reach Husk’s elevated height from where he was leaning across the bar counter. Husk made a show of licking his lips, savouring the taste of Angel on them. All Angel could think about was how he had just taken a dose of the poison that laced his lips, the reason he had avoided anything touching his lips all night.

“Shall we?” Husk offered Angel his hand as he rounded the bar once more, standing as tall as his short frame would allow. Angel placed one of the hands from his top set of arms in Husk’s, slowly raising himself from the stool. With the additional height of his heels, Angel stood at almost double Husk’s height, towering over him. That however did little to deter Husk as the shorter Overlord began leading the way through the large hall, weaving their way to one of the many exits. 

As Angel trailed behind them, his eyes locked onto Arackniss’s, giving his brother a clear nod as they passed by one another even if Angel was sure he had witnessed Husk planting a kiss on his lips. The job was done. Whatever happened after this wasn’t up to Angel. 

Husk had led him to a hidden door that blended with the hall's walls. He easily pressed a concealed pressure plate as two doors slid open, revealing an elevator. Holding the door open for Angel, Husk allowed Angel to walk in first before he stepped in moments later, the door shutting behind him. As soon as Angel was sure the two of them were alone, his hands were immediately on Husk’s, trying to smear his lipstick from the Overlord’s lips.

“You idiot,” Angel hissed. Husk stood stock still as Angel fretted over him, wiping his thumbs over his lips and trying to eliminate any of the remaining pinkish colour. His efforts didn’t matter too much as Husk had already tasted the lipstick, making that clear right after they had kissed. “Why would you kiss me? You knew the lipstick was poisoned.”

“To make sure your family got off your back,” Husk’s hands fumbled for Angel’s, putting a stop to his frantic attempts to clean his lips. Husk didn’t take into account Angel’s other set of arms or even the third set that were kept hidden most of the time. A new pair of hands were instantly on Husk’s face, attempting to do the same thing that the first pair had failed to do. “We had to make sure they saw you give me the poison so they couldn’t blame you for me not dying.” 

“You didn’t have to go lickin’ your lips to rub it in their faces though,” Angel almost shouted, panic seeping into his words. Husk stared up at him with a small smile on his face despite it all, only pushing Angel further on edge as he turned frantic. “Now you’ve consumed it. Quick, how many fingers am I holdin’ up?”

“Stop with that bullshit,” Husk had to drag another one of Angel’s hands away as he attempted to check his pulse to make sure it was still beating smoothly. Rolling his eyes at the low squeak that erupted from Angel as he was dragged around, being pulled out of the elevator doors once they opened as sat on a plush bed after they walked through a long hallway. “I’m the one who gave you that drugged lipstick, don’t you think I’d make sure I’m immune to it first?”

“Oh,” Angel came to a slow end, sitting on the edge of one of Husk’s beds, his two sets of arms being held by Husk, a soothing thumb running over the back of both of them. Angel guesses he should have thought of that. Husk hadn’t become an Overlord off of pure luck, even if that was his trademark. Though, now that the worry had fled from Angel’s being, a firey annoyance filled it instead as he glared at Husk. “Why’d you scare me then? You could’ve said somethin’ sooner so I didn’t freak out.”

“I’m sorry Legs,” Husk murmured, finally releasing Angel’s hands so he could use one of his own to cup the spider’s chin. His hand alone almost dwarfed Angel’s face, just like most things in comparison did–other than his height, of course. “Didn’t think you’d work yourself up so much over it. But since we’re up here… we might as well put this room to good use.”

A large grin split across Angel’s face as he wound a hand up Husk’s suit, tangling the Gambling Overlord’s tie within his fingers before tugging him forward, bringing their faces within inches of one another. “I like the sound of that Whiskers.”

[contemplatingoutlander]

Interesting proposal by Nate Loewentheil in a guest column in The New York Times. Not only was his proposal thought provoking, but two of the comments regarding it by readers were also worth contemplating. Below are some excerpts from the column, followed by the two comments.

Here is a proposal for the environmental movement: Pool philanthropic funds for a day, buy a small plot of land in Washington, D.C., and put up a tall marble wall to serve as a climate memorial. Carve on this memorial the names of public figures actively denying the existence of climate change. Carve the names so deep and large, our grandchildren and great-grandchildren need not search the archives. This is not a metaphor. The problem with climate change is the disconnect between action and impact. If politicians vote against construction standards and a school collapses, the next election will be their last. But with climate change, cause and effect are at a vast distance. We are already seeing the consequences of our past and present greenhouse gas emissions. In coming decades, those emissions will wreak their full havoc on the climate, and it will take hundreds, possibly thousands, of years for those pollutants to fully dissipate. But in the short term, the most immediate burdens are borne mostly by the poor in America and distant people in distant lands. Misaligned incentives are at the heart of why some political and business leaders deny and delay. [...] I would first nominate those who have sown confusion over climate science, like Myron Ebell, who recently retired as director of the Competitive Enterprise Institute’s Center for Energy and Environment, where he sought to block climate change efforts in Congress, and served as the head of Donald Trump’s transition team for the Environmental Protection Agency. Mr. Ebell has argued that the idea that climate change is “an existential threat or even crisis is preposterous.” Then there are lawmakers who have consistently stood in the way of federal action, like the recently retired senator James Inhofe of Oklahoma, the author of the book “The Greatest Hoax: How the Global Warming Conspiracy Threatens Your Future.” [color emphasis added]

Below is the first thought provoking comment to this article:

There is, in Iceland, a memorial to a dead glacier - the Ok Glacier. It reads: "Ok is the first Icelandic glacier to lose its status as a glacier. In the next 200 years all our glaciers are expected to follow the same path. This monument is to acknowledge that we know what is happening and what needs to be done. Only you know if we did it." [color emphasis added] --Chris D., Colorado

Photo of the plaque at the at the Okjökull (OK Glacier) memorial.

Here is the second thought provoking comment to this article:

For reference this graph https://i.redd.it/ljifc828iui31.jpg is from the Exxon internal scientific report on climate change, 1982, produced by scientists working for that fossil fuel corporation. Look at what their graph predicted for 2020. Approaching 420 ppm CO2 and a rise of 1.2 C degrees above pre-industrial temperature - very close to what we actually got in 2020. Then look at what the graph shows for later this century, based on not reducing emissions. Very serious temperature rises, that could make agriculture very difficult in many countries. Yes, and then Exxon, having seen this, got involved in PR campaigns to "cast doubt" on climate science, to protect their assets. [color emphasis added] --Erik Frederiksen, Ashville, NC

1982 Exxon graph depicting average global temperature increases over time correlating with increases in atmospheric CO2. NOTE: Graph color was modified for greater clarity.

Fossil fuel companies like Exxon, and fossil fuel oligarchs like the Koch brothers should be included in any "Climate Wall of Shame."

[canonsinthehead]

Naruto Modern AU/Hollywood pt.6 - More Basketball Info & The IBL Finale

KONOHA'S BASKETBALL TEAM:

Name: The Red Leaves of Konoha

Asuma Sarutobi took over 3 years ago when the previous coach Genma resigned without warning. At first, he was a controversial choice because his father Hiruzen got arrested and demoted from his high-ranking position as a Minister of Finances of the country of Fire for fraud, mishandling of funds, and abuse of power. Asuma was met with a lot of resistance but overturned the public opinion in his favor as he “built the team back up” leading it to a new path of constant victories.

The team has been secured with being #2 behind Kumo. They’ve accepted being their natural enemy because Kumo is undefeatable, and it is what it is. Their position maintained itself for years until Kiri’s team's emergence. Konoha’s team then dropped to third position in the world rankings. There is no need to worry because they are still above average and are promised to maintain their position for years, but Konoha started putting their bet on other sports anyway.

Regardless, with Asuma’s efforts and the Hyuuga clan's generous donations, they formed a strong and determined basketball team made of diverse players:

Konohamaru Sarutobi:

the star of the team

highest stats

Fastest

Basketball has been a passion for him since high school

As suggested by his surname, he is not a nobody

 Comes from a family/background involved in politics. Asuma broke away from it by marrying a woman from a different clan, Kurenai, and ending the generational curse of corruption who ran in the Sarutobi’s bloodline for decades.

Kawaki:

Most recent recruit

Youngest member

He has an amateur basketball background

He was recruited after getting in a fight with Kiba during a friendly match in an urban area

Most red cards/accidents are linked to him

He is a fan favorite, especially with the girlies for his looks and edgy personality

Kiba Inuzuka:

All bark, No bite. Loves to run his mouth while being the least skilled

His specialty is the element of surprise

Friendly extroverted butterfly

Loves to drink and always found himself with insta model grade “groupies” along with Torune

It is often awkward for him and his sense of humor because of the wide age range of the team

Torune Aburame:

Oldest, tallest and most muscular (Do your thing Wonho!)

Bestie with Kiba for their unhinged antics

He must be the one who spent the most time at Konoha’s basketball academy. Before getting drafted, either he never gave up or was killing time in a sport/hobby since he is a trust fund kid of the Aburame clan.

His specialty is long-distance shots and he rarely misses

Unfortunately, he often acts like he is the only player on the court.

Iwabe Yuino

Shortest

Same age as Kawaki

One of the few people who will proudly defend the position of “defense”. He takes it seriously.

Was drafted the month he joined the basketball academy. Something about him spoke to Asuma without formally introducing himself

His playing style melts into Konohamaru’s hence why they get along so well.

Star Players: Knohamaru, Kawaki, and Torune. Konohamaru and Kawaki receive the most brand deals. The young Sarutobi benefits from the image of being “Mr. National Hero/Konoha’s Pride” which opened doors for him in all areas of life; documentaries, variety shows, and TV series cameos. Meanwhile, Kawaki is a teen magazine favorite. Torune is receiving as many opportunities but is busy participating in every athletic competition or sport -based tv show known to man. The Aburame has a secured spot in men’s magazines for his strong and defined physique.  

KUMO’S BASKETBALL TEAM:

Team’s name: The Lightnings of Kumo

The greatest & undefeatable. It has been the case forever and ever since the team has been under the management and coaching of Mabui.  She is a businesswoman by profession but took over as a coach after Killer Bee’s relentless begging (he is an investor).

The team is made of 5 players going along like ingredients of a cake recipe;

Omoi:

“Either you’re gonna crank that Soulja Boy or that Soulja Boy is going to crank you”

The star of the team

His devious game tactics became the trademark of Kumo’s team

Him, Atsui, and Darui are the same age and were drafted at the same time

He is a professional prankster and is heavily present on social media

In his free time, he likes to play video games (he plays 2k lol)

His studies in advanced mathematics allowed him to tweak the team’s tactics on the court, hence why Kumo has a million techniques and ways revolving around strategically passing the ball (THIS IS SCIENCE YALL!). Their training is way more calculated than it seems. It is so hard to intercept the ball after they put their hands on it

Like street fashion and has a PhD in dunking.

Atsui:

Dynamic duo with Omoi. They do everything together

He seamlessly integrated the team even if he stands out like a sore thumb. It doesn’t bother him since he easily adapts to different situations and environments.

He never thought he would play professionally and sent his application to Kumo’s basketball academy after losing a bet.

He mastered the art of crossovers

Darui:

Becoming a basketball player was not the direction he expected his life to take

Omoi got him drafted by referral saying “Hey, I know this dude and he’s not bad”

Darui is the introverted quiet type of guy living the extroverted life

Being so composed and quiet allows him to sneak on his opponents without warning

Thanks to his immunity to stress, he often chimes in and organizes his coach’s commands on the court ending in endless arguments with Omoi

Kakui:

He is not that old, please stop calling him Unc.

Marui:

Youngest member.

Designated photographer

Star players: Darui, Atsui & Omoi. The Raikage himself supports all team members financially. Atsui receives the most brand deals while Darui is backed by few major companies and is content with it (because they don’t go against his personal values). Omoi found a new avenue that fits his personality which is MC-ing. He became a permanent member of Killer Bee’s Showtime variety show cast and makes a good living out of it.

CHEERLEADERS AND THE TRADITION OF THE FINALE:

Cheerleaders and mascots are important parts of each team, especially during the finale of the IBL (International Basketball League). It has gained a reputation for putting on a show along with the hottest artists of each nation making the finale such an event every year. Each nation has a different way of operating (including the important celebrities/public figures attending the match.

KONOHA Their mascot is named Kurama and is a nine-tail Firefox. Its theme song is “Fire Burning”.

For the finale, it will perform along with the largest cheerleader team in the world of basketball and a marching band. They carry the performance and hype the crowd until introducing the team’s members into the arena.

In recent years only and imitating other nations, they invited top artists to perform. Unfortunately, last year Konoha did not participate to the finals since it was Kumo vs Kiri but the new pop singer Mirai performed her most popular single as an opening act since the finale took place in Konoha.

She is Asuma Sarutobi’s daughter and Mizuki blamed nepotism as a reason for her being included in the event which doesn’t matter since her song is an international success and had undeniable popularity with the public.

KUMO

It’s a show! Some think their pre-game introduction is a mess while others can’t wait to see it. Kumo never sleeps on the gas when it comes to their basketball team. Knowing they have been dominating the sport for the longest and haven’t yet met a “worthy opponent” in decades, the finale is just a big ole party for them. As follows their tradition, Killer Bee introduces the performance with one of his songs along with the team’s mascot Gyuki also known as The Anpanman. On last year's finale, he performed his most popular hit and the mascot’s theme song.

Due to the circumstance of going against a brand-new team instead of Konoha. They went all out with large street dance/breakdancing crews and as expected the basketball players joined them on the dancefloor to introduce themselves. It’s a tradition with them to always participate with the dancers. To add oil to the fire, the most popular singer Samui and the most awarded rapper Karui offered a special performance together.

KIRI: Being a new team and recently entered the world scene, it was THE opportunity to formally introduce themselves not only as a team, but as a nation. Saying “Kiri, we are here. Modernized and our dark past is behind us.” Hence why they decided to introduce the team along with a large group of musicians performing traditional percussion-based music belonging to each players' respective ethnicities.

Having a smaller cheerleader team and no mascot, they were represented by the country of water’s current gem, the singer Sera. Her background as a professional dancer allowed her to put on a show by herself as much as whole cheerleading teams from other nations.

Her production team came up with a catchy song for the basketball finale that she performed along with her most popular single. Zabuza performed another song with her meanwhile the rest of the team performed along Utakata, the new pop singer making waves in Kiri these days.

NEXT PART

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[hungriesttable]

if the Sinners got a dog

(below the cut because I actually have a decent amount of thoughts on this)

Outis: one of the only (and possibly THE only) sinners committed to disciplining the dog. She’s a bit perturbed that the dog won’t reliably sit/stay on command because it tends to jump at random intervals instead (Don Quixote’s influence).

Has some belief that if she speaks in a voice that’s authoritative enough, the dog will understand what she’s saying. Is displeased when that doesn’t happen. “Why are you trying to sit on me? No.” “It’s because the dog likes you” “If she likes me she will sit politely on the ground as she is supposed to”

Rodya: She was the one who named the dog, and probably rescued it off of the street, insisting that they should keep the dog at least for a little while. Feeds the dog a bit of whatever the Sinners are having. “That’s not good for dogs!” “A little won’t do her any harm~”

Sinclair: He wasn’t sure what to make of the dog at first (it’s probably not vaccinated, and he only became sure it didn’t have rabies after a couple of days), but he’s pretty fond of it. Whenever he’s in need of company, the dog appears without him needing to say anything. It’s warm, soft, and close, and he definitely thinks of it as a family member. That being said he personally has a steep learning curve of “how to take care of a dog” (if he had one in his previous years then there was probably a butler to take care of it)

Heathcliff: I recently read Wuthering Heights. This gives me reason to suspect that Heathcliff would not be a big fan of the dog, at least at first. He’s fine with it from a distance, but protests to having to touch it (and to having it touch him). I’d imagine that it gets on his good side eventually, though, and he’d probably be one of those people who wants the dog to love him the most out of everyone.

Ryōshū: They weren’t really sure how she would react to the dog at first. She’s currently trying to teach it how to sic. Given the opportunity, she’ll examine the dog’s body. Her efforts of questionable motivation led to the discovery that the dog is missing a tooth.

Gregor: After 5.5, I think it’s safe to say that he’s the “dad with the dog he didn’t want”. He notices that the dog is repulsed by the smell of cigarettes and doesn’t smoke as actively when he’s around it.

Don Quixote: She wants the dog to be her sidekick. She’s taught the dog how to hug (ie how to jump and put its paws on her chest/shoulder), and is hoping to teach the dog how to do some advanced stunts. “Move forth, my companion, and fetch mine lance!” (Dog does nothing)

Yi Sang: The dog is his buddy. He’s a bit concerned about the idea that the dog could be involved in Limbus Company’s business, but has no problem with the idea of teaching the dog some more simple stuff (eg how to track scents and find lost people/things).

Faust: If there’s a City equivalent to a Wikipedia page on dogs, she probably read it. Several times. She wouldn’t say it, but the dog’s capriciousness often confounds her. In lieu of a microchip, she made a tracking collar for the dog.

Meursault: He and the dog share a certain special bond due to his willingness to walk, clean up after, and generally take care of the dog when others don’t feel like it. He’s not necessarily a fan of the whole “spontaneous tackling” thing, but he’s big enough to avoid being pushed over and has few other complaints about the dog. With the lack of interest in training the dog on the bus, he doesn’t see the use of disclosing what he knows about training dogs.

Ishmael: She likes the dog. Walking the dog often brings her mixed feelings, since it reminds her of the other experiences she’s had with being on the end of a guiding rope. She’s figured out that she can derail Heathcliff’s train of thought by invoking the dog, either physically or in name, and she’s greatly enjoying this ability.

Vergilius: He was dubious about the whole “dog on the bus” thing. Since Charon seems to enjoy the dog’s presence, however, he sees no point in objecting to it. He doesn’t dislike dogs, but the fact that anything bad happening to the dog could have catastrophic consequences means he’s always a little on edge around it. If the Sinners weren’t planning on doing their best to take care of it before, they certainly are after receiving some Red Gaze-brand reminders to be responsible pet owners.

Dante: Rewinding dog scratches is a small burden, but please, can SOMEONE cut the dog’s nails? They like the dog, but their clock head doesn’t seem to win them any canine popularity points. They’re both disappointed and relieved that the dog doesn’t count as a thirteenth Sinner.

[oldmandiddler]

i have done something horrific and i need to share it here.

biden/trump fic, sfw

also in ao3. info and fic under the break

My Love, Mine All Mine by amohomines on ao3.

disclaimer: this fic involves drug use. i know this is a crackfic, but i treat this seriously as someone who actively and has struggled with addiction for years. i am not making fun of drug users, but it only felt right to include. i at least tried to write it realistically (to my experience) and respectfully.

without further ado, here’s the fic:

“As long as you carry your own bag.” The phantom of a smile haunted Don’s mind. He knew the conversation Joe was talking about. They crossed paths at an underground club Don frequented. Sitting across a small table, they shared a martini and chatted between sips. Joe recently went on vacation and was telling Don all about it.

“The grass was beautifully green, and the wind was just right. Great place for golfing, you know. You should have seen it.” Don watched the way his hands fiddled with the toothpick at the rim of the glass. The same toothpick he just had between his lips, pulling off the firm olive imposed on it.

“My golf buddies don’t really like to leave town. They say the golf course at home is the best that’s ever been. Can’t really golf by myself, can I?” Don tried to chuckle with that TV smile he kept on, but he had a hard time masking around Joe. They may not talk much, but he always felt vulnerable. His guard was let down, and he knew Joe could read his mind just then. He confirmed it with his next words, words that would be branded to his mind so that he could never see Joe again without thinking about them.

“I don’t mind golfing with you, Donnie.” Joe stood and wrapped his messenger bag around his shoulder. “Just carry your own bag, how’s that?” As Joe stood, he paused just to torture Don with a warm stare. A half smile, a slow fluttering of the eyes, and a wave goodbye later, Don was left at the loneliest table in Washington D.C.. He called his chauffeur and left that club wishing he had drank enough to pass out.

Don was back behind the podium, giving his best smile to the cameras. He didn’t think his smile had faltered, but his heart had definitely skipped a few beats. He gained his composure as the ache in his chest died down. “… as long as you carry your own bag.” He watched Joe’s lips curl around the words. He knew what he was doing to Don. Joe had left him with so little to cherish, and what little he had tortured him in every second of this debate. He was stuck between leaving the debate and going off the grid, and closing the space between the podiums.

-

Joe knew what he was doing to Don. He didn’t want to hurt him, but the indifference between them would kill Joe before his longing ever would. Cold silence was freezing his heart to a stop. He needed something to get him by.

Joe ordered a single drink for them to share on purpose. He purposely let his fingertips linger around the orange stain where Don’s mouth embraced the toothpick that garnished the drink. He purposely scooted in close so that their knees touched, and he purposely didn’t move to get space. He knew, but it was the choice between a small choke and being suffocated to the point of dying. He wanted more.

”I don’t mind golfing with you, Donnie.” He loved to call him that — the secret little nickname that Joe used for him. “Just carry your own bag, how’s that?” Joe reluctantly packed up, though he never wanted to leave. Nothing could make him want to leave. He knew that if he stayed, he couldn’t control himself, especially not with being tipsy, and he couldn’t risk being caught with Don. But oh, how he wanted to get rid of the divider between them: the cameras watching; the societal expectation; the politics; the podiums; and of course, the table dividing them now. Joe had one option, and that was to remove himself from Don’s proximity, though he’d kick himself for it as long as he lived.

Joe got home and drank and drank. He tasted that martini in every sip, drink, chug. It was a good martini, but it was a shared martini: one that both Joe and Don’s lips greeted. He smelled Don’s cologne over the scorching Patrón. He drank anything that could burn Don out of his mind, but he stuck.

He wasn’t proud of it. He knew he would regret it. But he also knew that nothing else could possibly give him the relief he so desperately needed. He reached into the secret compartment under his nightstand and painfully drew out the pipe. Nobody would know. He just needed one hit, and he would be done.

Don would not make it into his dreams that night, because he would not sleep. He would be momentarily wiped from Joe’s memory, and oh, how tranquil those few moments were. But still, Don was left miles away, tasting the same martini and hearing the same voice pierce through him. He was left with no relief.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not calling out my little brother on his offensive behavior earlier?

For a bit of backstory, I (F21) am autistic. I was diagnosed was diagnosed with ADHD and autism at age 7. I have been in and out of therapy for it (against my will) until I turned 19 and went to college. For years, I have been trying to prove to others that I am capable of taking care of myself. I don't feel bad about being autistic. It's not an injury or a misfortune or whatever. It just is. But I don't speak up for myself when people insult me (directly or indirectly) for it.

I've been called crazy by my entire elementary math class for a class assignment (we had to say one nice word about each of our classmates). I've been called deviant by my college friends. I've been infantilized and compared to a pet by literal adults even after I tell them that I am autistic. I haven't been good at reprimanding this behavior, and I think I might've gotten used to it, hence why I even allowed my little brother to call me the r word in the first place. I haven't been mentally well for a good while, and I've only recently started to get the hang of managing my ADHD symptoms, so only now have I started paying attention to other people's lives.

Now here's where I may be the AH. My (M14) brother is neurotypical, and although I haven't called him out before for calling me the r word, he recently started calling me it in front of his friends. He's also in a lot of trouble as well for being racist and sexist at school as well, and I've started to wonder if I've been too soft on him. I've been going to a out of state college, so it's not like I was too involved in his life, but I was present, on occasion, when he was saying offensive things with his friends. I feel that as the adult in the situation, I should have intervened. I feel that my autism or mental state doesn't change the fact that in those situations, I am the responsible party. I feel that by being non confrontational, I was hurting my little brother. He trusts me, and I want him to be able to rely on me for help, but I feel I need to stop reinforcing this behavior. I just don't know how.

Maybe it's a too little, too late thing, but I'm really worried about him. He has a different dad, so he passes for hispanic, and I'm white, so I've always been unsure what role to take to confront him about his racism. I've experienced sexual harassment before, but I don't know how to talk about that with him either. I've told him multiple times that I am uncomfortable when he says things of sexual nature, but he hasn't stopped trying to get me to listen to his favorite (highly sexual) rap music. The one thing I was certain about that I could potentially ask him to stop was regarding my autism. I thought, since it was personal to me, he would understand and would stop. Maybe it would help him reflect on how others feel regarding the other stuff if I set one boundary. So I tried to ask him politely to stop making fun of my autism because it makes me uncomfortable. He got really upset and asked why I had a problem with it now instead of before. I've always been uncomfortable, I just never said anything. It's not like I can go back in time to change my past behavior, but I can see his point. I never called him out on it before, so why now? We aren't talking to each other anymore, but I can't help but think about the role I've taken in his life to make him act the way he does.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[queenvhagar]

Hello,

I saw your “the HOTD characters, the GOT characters the writers are trying to mold them into, and the GOT characters they actually most resemble in the books” take and I have a few questions if you don’t mind:

(Also, please bear with me if these are stupid questions, I haven’t read the books and I’ve only watched a few scenes of the show despite being involved/invested in the fandom hence how I got this info)

How does Alicent have a sense of honor, justice, and understanding of the laws especially if she tried to put her son on the throne?

And your part about Aegon, isn’t he also a rapist in the books? He sexually assaults women, including serving girls and members of the court.

I saw someone mention in the comment the parallel between Theon and Aegon by them both being passed over in favor of their sisters whose father favors over them. How was Aegon passed over if Rhaenyra was in line before him? And he acknowledged the fact that his sister’s throne was being usurped and showed he was reluctant to taking the throne and didn’t feel passed over.

Hi anon! Thanks for the question!

Alicent and honor, justice, and understanding of the laws:

Basically Alicent operates by what she believes is honor and justice, according to traditional Westerosi views of chivalry and the like. Basically, she tries to be the ideal noble lady. Be a good and faithful wife, raise your children, maintain relationships and appearances at court, advocate for your family and your children so they may have a secure future.

In terms of the laws, for thousands of years Westeros has adhered to agnatic primogeniture (as modeled off of real-world history): the right by law and custom of the firstborn legitimate son to inherit the father's title. Most recently, this was reinforced by the Council of 101 AC where the lords decided that Viserys would inherit over Rhaenys and her son's claim to the throne. Basically, all precedent says that the firstborn son should inherit, and it has been this way for generations to maintain stability in the realm.

The problem is Viserys named Rhaenyra before he had sons of his own and he failed to meaningfully reinforce her claim after he had his sons. According to the law and the precedent that made Viserys himself king, Viserys' firstborn son should be king after him. What we have in this case is an argument between the word of the king and the law of the land, which are not necessarily the same thing in this world, especially after the king dies. When the king is alive he can enforce his word, but afterward, it has less importance.

Had Rhaenyra wanted the throne, and to end this argument once and for all (or at least prevent any of her opposition from rallying behind Viserys' sons and pushing for them to rule instead of her, which could lead to war) she or someone on her side would have to exile or kill Viserys' sons for her claim to be the definitively best claim to the throne. This was was added into season 1 but apparently forgotten by the writers. Otto warned Alicent there could be war and her children were in danger. Alicent warned Aegon he was the challenge to Rhaenyra by living and breathing. Then the fears began to grow when Rhaenyra and her side showed they were not afraid to use violence to push for their own power: Aemond's eye was cut out and Rhaenyra offered him tortured to cover her own lies and protect herself politically, and Viserys didn't so much as admonish her children but instead threatened his sons and wife with mutilation if they spoke on it further. Laenor was murdered and Rhaenyra immediately remarried her uncle Daemon, who previously killed his first wife out of convenience and so he could seek a more politically advantageous match. Vaemond Velaryon was murdered to protect Rhaenyra's position (in the show, Daemon executed him from behind without warning for speaking the truth; in the book, Rhaenyra ordered Daemon to take his head and feed his remains to her dragon, and Viserys has other Velaryons' tongues ripped out for questioning Rhaenyra).

By the time Viserys died, Alicent had the backing of the legal and historical precedent, as well as motivation to protect her children from Rhaenyra and Daemon, to install Aegon as king, so she did. No misunderstanding of any prophecy anywhere in the books, as it should be (but the writers are afraid to write complex women with complex motivations out of fear of being seen as anti-feminist, which ironically results in them stripping women of their agency and anger, which is not very feminist at all).

Aegon in the books:

Aegon in the books is portrayed as leaning into the pleasures of life before being named king, drinking, propositioning ladies, yes, likely touching them or grabbing their butts and the like. Certainly not okay by our standards today and not okay for those women back then, though probably not out of the ordinary unfortunately for most highborn men and how women in this world were viewed.

The show however was very deliberate in inserting their original character as Aegon's very first appearance as an adult. Dyana does not exist in the books, nor do any accounts of Aegon violently overpowering servant girls for his pleasure. The vibe in the books is that he's drunk and horny and not that he's some predator. The only detail that might suggest some sadistic nature to Aegon is an account by Mushroom, Rhaenyra's court jester, who lived on Dragonstone with her for years before this point and was never in King's Landing to witness any such event (the child fighting pits detail). It's notable that the show doesn't use most of Mushroom's accounts because they are usually unnecessarily vulgar and raunchy (like him insisting he was there to see Daemon teach Rhaenyra how to pleasure him with her mouth and then Mushroom joined in, or Rhaenyra sent Alicent and Helaena to brothels for anyone to use as they pleased). However the writers decided to use Mushroom's account of Aegon because they clearly want to portray Aegon as this degenerate (as opposed to a flawless and righteous Rhaenyra).

As for when Aegon was crowned, at the Green Council, he was initially reluctant to take the throne when his father named Rhaenyra, as he likely did not feel suited for it or he did not want the responsibility of the position, preferring his own lifestyle. However, Criston Cole, Alicent, and Helaena, who were all present, convinced Aegon that if he did not take the throne, his family's lives could be in danger. This is what led to his choice to take the throne. The show makes points to heavily use the word usurpation to describe crowning Aegon, but in reality there were strong arguments that Aegon had the better claim in the first place, despite the previous king's words. The show also loves calling them the Hightowers despite them being Viserys' children and therefore Targaryens as much as Rhaenyra is (and the whole point is this is a civil war between a family - the Targaryens fighting each other).