#He's relatable for all the wrong reasons and he's very real for that. If you dislike/hate him I get it though. Very understandable 👍

[lesbiandreamriso]

What I really like about Pluto is how morally gray almost every character is (with the exception of my baby Pim). I wanna talk about Kosol and May and why I think Ben is the MVP.

As a certified May defender my favourite ship is still Kosol x Jail. However alot of Kosol haters would be Kosol. Think about it. Your best friend is almost murdered and has to live the rest of his life disabled. His mom who is also a parental figure in your life kills herself. You want revenge but you cant go after the criminal who has all the resources to get himself a slap on the wrist so you go after the shady lawyer that got him off because in your mind its the lawyers fault.

She didnt hurt your friend but she let a criminal back into the streets. Her defense got him a win in the court of public approval. Instead of being seen as the murderous bastard he is he's seen as a hero now and your friend is a nameless motorpunk who deserved it.

Its terrible but it is realistic and the profession of law is fundamentally immoral. The job of a lawyer isn't to seek justice its to defend their client and while we the audience can understand this because we are far removed from the repurcussions of May's actions if it were your friend or your family you would be tempted to get some payback even if you didnt do it.

Cases like this cause me to have a huge amount of cognitive dissonance because i love stories about vigilante justice. I know if this story was from Kosol's pov I probably wouldn't feel as bad for May as I do.

With Pluto alot of the central characters have some sort of logic behind what they do no matter how shaky. The difference between villian and victim depends on the point of view and the amount of informatiom we have at any given moment. Kosol is wrong no matter how you slice it but the only reason why we think May didnt deserve it is because we know and love May.

May knows this too. She may not have hurt Ben or killed his mom but she set his attacker free. Her crime was enabling and she feels terrible about it because under normal circumstances she wouldn't do it. That's why she wont turn him in. She believes those who do wrong deserve punishment. In her mind she did wrong and the universe punished her. The specifics dont matter anymore especially when you factor in Ai oon's relationship with Kosol.

Back to Ben. I say he is the Mvp because he has every reason to hate May and hold what she did over her head forever. He has an idea of the guilt and anguish she's facing because he no doubt blames himself for his mom's death the way May does and he not only frees himself from the prison of guilt and pain he likely lived in for years, he freed her too. If I were in his position I wouldn't have the strength to do it.

This is very much an explanation not an excuse. As a May lover my favourite ship is still Kosol x Jail but as a person who sometimes lets thoughts slip through when I watch shows I have complex feelings about Kosol. No love or hatred just confusion and because of that he may be one of my favourite gl characters in 2024. In terms of writing.

Side note: Ai oon's reaction to finding out the news also reinforces this point. She was far removed from the repercussions of Kosols action. She saw only the "villian" side of May and decided to pass judgement, determining what she did and didnt deserve. Then she meets May and falls in love. Now she is haunted by the fact that she not only enabled the crime that caused the person she loves most to become blind. She inspired it. She planted the seed. We can say she did nothing wrong. I maintained that stance till i found out she knew exactly what Kosol did and didn't stop him. Now I think she is partially guilty but ultimately Kosol is a grown man who makes his own choices and he choose to do what he did. The real question this episode is asking is how do we measure guilt. Does being a bystander make you guilty? An enabler? Or a perpetrator? The answer is all but only sometimes. Everything is relative it just depends on who is telling the story.

The last thing I'll say is there is no villian in this story just people doing questionable things for love and getting mixed results. I know the gl fandom loves a black and white hero vs villian narrative. I have fallen victim to this in the past when talking about kosol and oom but pluto has shown that its a show that requires a more critical lense. Lets ignore personal feelings about the characters for a minute and really examine their actions as objectively as we can. The discourse around the show could be so fun if we did.

[nonokoko13]

Call me Mahoro because I also think her brother is hot af Btw the plot twist in this series is that Arajin is going take his crush last name but not because of her. Sorry for the spoilers peace and love in the planet Earth

And could somebody make this Marito teddy bear real? It's a basic and essential need atp

[doverstar]

joseph gordon-levitt called jim hawkins "just a very good-looking wasp of a boy that I will never be" and I've been thinking about that for two weeks

[celestial-toys]

been laying here listening to Lucky by Dermot Kennedy on loop for half an hour while thinking about Everything Stays and crying

[waywardsalt]

:3

[liedownquisition]

Oh boy. You know, I really love how you've cut some of those panels out. Here's a little more context on Oliver very clearly laying a solid chunk of what's wrong with Jason at Bruce's feet:

And you know what, you're right! No one's ever obligated to forgive everyone or anyone ever! But also guess what! You're also ignoring like... a lot of stuff actually. You think the batarang is the only thing people have an issue with.... as if it exists in a vacuum as the only thing Bruce has ever done wrong to Jason ever? Because most people aren't so much mad over a single incident as we are over it happening again and again and again.

RHATO Rebirth v2 #25

Batman and Robin uhhh Issue 6 I think? Going off the omnibus, sorry

Batman #138* *yes I'm aware that Bruce is being influenced by "Zur-En-Arr" in this, but honestly? I've always felt that this & the Batman & Robin one were some of the more in-character examples of Bruce's flaws manifesting in abusive ways

Or maybe some of these are too recent. Let's talk my personal favorite little beef that I like to contrast with Ollie:

Batman #424-425 The Diplomat's Son & Consequences

Ollie, on the other hand, when his charge commits a murder that Ollie thought could be prevented:

Now there's something to be said for how the writers for these stories had very different opinions of the sidekicks that were responsible, Starlin, for example, fucking hated Jason (Well, Robin in general) and wanted him dead, and it's deliberately set up to be a question of whether or not Jason actually did. Regardless, Bruce pretty cleanly absolves himself of any wrongdoing in his upbringing of Jason, whereas Ollie takes responsibility for Mia being in the position that she even could/would make that kind of call. And at this point, Oliver had Mia with him for a lot less time than Bruce had had Jason.

If it was Just the batarang, then, frankly, I think it's be a lot less controversial. This isn't even everything OR the worst panels from those incidents!!! I'm just cherrypicking, just like you were. And you know what, let me add this:

According to Bruce, Ollie's a pretty forgiving guy, it looks like. And if we're taking more Rebirth into account, Oliver was pretty chill about Cheshire hanging out with his family, and she's definitely caused her fair share of problems for the family and world at large on scales Jason has yet to even touch*, regardless of if she's Lian's mom. *some of Jade's crimes are dubiously canon, but with the reality mashing from Convergence in a way all of it is.

Ollie is a lot of hot air. I love the man, and he'll rip anyone and everyone a new one at the drop of a hat for any godsdamned reason. Pretty sure he's called Bruce and Barry and Hal all fascists before, so he has no hesitation in saying the absolute worst about people while... still having a relatively decent relationship with them in the long run, actually. Hal even used to be a villain for a while and Oliver was forced to kill him and now they're buds again. An alternate version of Hal that is STILL that villain continues to torment Oliver and his family.

Would Jason need to actually work to earn forgiveness from the Arrows? Probably. But he's still friends with Roy now (yes, CURRENTLY. AS HE HAS BEEN FOR OVER A DECADE he hasn't even been features in much w/ Roy lately but it has been REFERENCED), and even if it was small that olive branch of helping Roy and Lian reunite (and their general friendship, actually) isn't something that Ollie would just brush off, just as he wouldn't just brush off the events of Seeing Red.

But, in the grand scheme of things, kidnapping her, sending him on a wild goose chase across town, "having a talk" (mia's words) then letting her leave unharmed, and blowing up a building behind her is honestly small potatoes in comparison to the Repeated incidents of textbook abusive relationships that goes on between Bruce and Jason. (And I cannot overemphasize how little Mia was injured by this incident.)

Of course Olie was talking shit about Jason in the interim, Red Hood is incredibly dangerous, and he's scared for her safety. You can SEE how stumped he is by her coming out of this completely unharmed. Plus! This is hot on the heels of her return after the Dr Light Incident, and Ollie has every right to be scared out of his fucking mind.

But when it comes down to it, Mia Was Not Harmed. I will not stop saying that. Because in the world of villains and superheroes and red Hood doing significantly worse shit to other characters, this is NOTHING. Even actually within Arrow comics???? This WAS NOTHING.

And oh my god "He did the same thing Joker did" okay so where do I start with this

a) that was the point, obviously.

b) he didn't, actually.

c) that was the worst description of both incidents I've ever read in my entire life. Joker didn't "take a kid from his father and torture him and make him doubt his place in his family" unless you're talking about the fucking Arkham 'verse!

c2) actually let's break down that description: "took a kid from their father figure" Joker didn't take Jason, he was sold out by his mom. "Beat them up" understatement, but go off. "Tortured them mentally about their place in their family" not really. Joker just beat him nearly to death laughing for the most part, Jason's doubts about it came after he came back to life and saw news that Joker was still alive.

d) hmmm I wonder who said it was just Jason messing with Bruce...

Hm. Yeah. Bruce is definitely the most reliable source for Jason's intentions. I mean, was it generally to spite Bruce? Probably, yeah. But Jason's very good at multitasking and layering his intentions.

e) once again, Mia was not harmed. Jason spent most of their sparring match on the defensive, And only hit Her, physically, like, four times? and all of them in retaliation to her getting in close and hitting him first*? (And, trust me, if Jason can pull the hypercompetent bullshit that is "Seemingly shooting wildly but managing to hit nothing but THE STRING OF MIA'S BOW while also accounting for how she'd dodge" he could do sooooo much worse.) Notably, he briefly had her pinned to the floor with his hands around her throat... and then let up just after he held it long enough to make his point *Note: this is not a justification, she had every reason to fight back with everything she had and what Jason does is very fucked up on like...a normalscale. But it's worth noting he was Very Visibly and outright explicitly "teaching" her throughout it and it's soooo much less than any other villain has done to her.

This doesn't read to me "Making her doubt her place in her family" so much as "Emphasizing their similarities" this is the kind of speech the villain gives when he's trying to recruit the hero. (something which, hilariously, he mocked the idea of in UTH) But you know, all interpretations of canon are valid, although...

Funny enough, this also is very much not what Joker Did, actually. I mean, I don't recall Joker letting Jason have ANY agency at all, really. Just started breaking bones.

Now, I didn't post all of them because if I kept going it'd just be the whole comic, but yeah he does very much air out his daddy issues and compare them to her relationship with Ollie. It's clear that while he does know a lot about Mia... he also doesn't know much about Ollie. At least, not personality wise. Not how much genuinely better he is at this whole parenting gig.

This is so, so much easier to forgive, conceptually, than everything that goes on in the Batfam both from and to Jason and from and to OTHER MEMBERS OF THE BATFAM without involving Jason at all!!! (Birthdays, amirite?)

And, honestly, I'm probably seeing a lot of the posts that you are, and the ones making the Jason & Ollie bonding posts? Aren't really the same ones going on about the Batarang Incident. We've moved on to the rest of the, gestures above, Patterns of Abuse. If we discuss anything past post-crisis at all. (Speaking of post crisis, I actually remember Jason doing a pretty big solid for one of Oliver's close friends... hmmmmmm. Oh, yeah, he helped out when Black Lightning was framed for murder by Slade so good that even HE thought he did it! Granted, that was pre-Mia. So he's not going to stop being wary, but it's not like Jason hasn't done good things that affected people close to Ollie either.)

And if Jason's emotions aren't an excuse, than, well, Bruce's aren't really an excuse either, are they?

Jason's not even the only one who gets abusive treatment from Bruce. And regardless of your personal interpretations of whether or not it's a valid Batman characterization, after multiple writers have written this kind of thing across multiple continuities, there comes a point when you have to accept that this is a genuine flaw that Bruce carries and find a way to reconcile it with everything else.

And if we're going off of canon-gospel, Jason's own behavior has steadily trended towards more and more fangless, more palatable, in a way that given exposure Oliver would probably tolerate, considering all the others that he tends to tolerate. He still seems to regard the Batclan in general as a dumpster fire, "None of my kids would take a shot at me" he says, completely correct, while Batman's kids wouldn't even hesitate. He rolled up with unsolicited advice about Batman's relationships multiple times, all correct, and gotten shot down or ignored as if his significantly fewer incidents of being a shitty parent that he's very self-aware about somehow make him unqualified to speak at all!

Sometimes the reason that people are writing this, is because they like Ollie more than Bruce, because he knows how to actually apologize and actually do better. And trying to ignore canon in favor of making "good dad" Bruce stories, can wear you down when you just keep seeing Bruce depicted worse and worse and worse, and so maybe you want to start seeing the people trapped in Bruce's vortex move away from that.

And among those in that vortex, Jason has it the worst. Like, this isn't a competition. Some of the shitty stuff that Bruce does to him could be argued to be just responses to what he does himself (victim-blamey, but you know what let's pretend it makes things okay) like uth, or RHATOv2#25 But... Batman & Robin? "Oh Bruce was upset about Damian."

What was it you said? Oh, that's right: "Your feelings being valid don't excuse the harm you do, guys."

Gotham War? I'm sure you'll make excuses for Bruce there. I mean, maybe implementing it was Zur, but, frankly, that "Failsafe"? That has "Bruce genuinely thought this" written all over it. Hypocrite. Considering what his response was to the last time someone messed with his mind.

Oliver... kind of is the canon version of fanon's "good dad Bruce" tbh. And sometimes people make that connection, see those parallels, and want to play with that. It's just a what if.

You know that thing about tragedies about how if anything happened any differently it could have been prevented, that someone could have been saved? Ollie fucks up, but, fundamentally, if Ollie had been in Bruce's position, he would have saved Jason, not by doing the impossible of making it there in time, but by putting Jason first and having healthy communication lmao. Because Bruce very explicitly didn't! He didn't want to talk about it because he was scared of the truth! Or, he was scared of what he believed to be the truth, which would be that Jason had killed. And that it wasn't Bruce's fault. Because it's never Bruce's fault if he failed to raise Jason in that way that took that instinct out. It's not his responsibility to have realized, as the adult in the situation, that Jason maybe shouldn't have been exposed to so much rape and murder at an impressionable age. It's not his responsibility to keep better track of his barely teenaged son who's going through severe trauma right in front of him because they failed to enact justice on someone.

And Bruce had a lot to say about what he thought about Jason that varied and, honestly, rang more as projecting his own issues onto Jason than matching up what was actually happening on the page. Better meta-writers than I have discussed how rarely we get Jason's POV in these situations, that we're TOLD a lot about Jason by everyone else who has an agenda to frame Jason in a certain way.

If you hate Jason Todd, or hate jayroy, then block the damn tags & add it to a content filter bcs generally the latter is always marked. if it's someone on your dash reblogging them and it's not tagged/hiding it then ask them to tag it so you can filter it or stop following them idc. Don't pretend your cherry picking of canon and willful out-of-context misinterpretations is any better than anyone else's.

I have seen many posts and fanfics who are going "Oliver works with Jason to annoy Bruce!", "Oliver protecting Jason from Bruce!", "Oliver deciding to annoy Bruce by being like a father figure to Jason!", "Oliver being so happy for Roy and Jason being together!", and etc, but in canon, Oliver HATES his guts.

Here is a compilation of Oliver thinking or talking about Jason from Seeing Red, which is the first Red Hood's story after Under The Red Hood, and the one time Oliver and Jason interracted in canon (if I'm not mistaken, they never did since):

For the last one, he is talking to Bruce and Jason is one of the "every damned manner of sociopathic fruit fly".

And like, Oliver and the Arrowfam are 100% justified in their dislike or hate. He literally pulled the same shit Joker did on them: took a teenager away from her father figure, beat her up, torture her mentally about her place in her new family and her usefulness, make her and her guardian think he was going to kill her, explode the building she was in in front of her father figure to make him believe he was too late... And all of that to get to Batman. He doesn't give a shit about Oliver or Mia, it's about Batman, it's about Bruce. Just like when the Joker killed him, it wasn't about him, it was about Batman.

And it doesn't matter that Jason changed, because others aren't obligated to forgive someone because they redeemed themselves. I do not believe that Oliver is fine with Jason, he is probably not very happy he hangs around Roy, and does NOT want him near Mia ever again, and certainly not his granddaughter, Liam. That's the man that kidnapped his daughter because he was mad at his own father, nope. He knows how it is to be annoyed with the Bat, and it doesn't justify this.

I can hear y'all seeing disregarding canon is fine, and yes, sure. But also, folks, you are such hypocrites if you want to keep in that Bruce threw a batarang at Jason's neck, and erase how it was an accident ("Batman doesn't make mistakes!" Firstly, he does, canonically, make huge mistakes sometimes. Secondly, the man was an emotional wreck, his son had come back to life and had been killing people and his other son, Dick, was maybe dead because his city just exploded. He is human, not a machine! Thirdly, it is simply fucking stupid for a character who is against killing to willingly inflict such a mortal wound.), but Jason being a huge asshole to others is either erased or excusable (your feelings being valid don't excuse the harm you do, guys). Talk about favoritism.

[hiraethwrote]

best friend!satoru who you’ve known for years, a fact he is very proud of. he loves how he is the privileged one to have known you the longest. he often mentions small quirks you have just to subtly brag that he isn’t just the one who has known you the longest, but he also knows you the best.

and when people ask how long you’ve been friends for, because you just flow so well together, he grows giddy when you huff in thought before eventually answering “oh, i don’t know, feels like forever sometimes.”

best friend!satoru who was your first kiss — but not because there was a natural development. you just wanted to get it over with, as all of your peers had already had theirs.

he was so absolutely baffled by your innocent request, ogling you with big eyes as you stood in front of him with a grumpy frown, arms knitted in front of you and your foot tapping anxiously. “don’t look at me like that! if you don’t want to, just say so!” you had growled at him, only for him to laugh in your face.

it only infuriated you more. you continued to yell at him, telling him to stop teasing you — but your rant was abruptly cut short when he simply pulled you close to connect your lips, his hand graciously cupping your jaw.

when you eventually pull away, you simply smile and thank him sweetly, turning around to go on with your day as if nothing had happened — you just wanted your first kiss to be over after all. satoru, on the other hand, is left nearly breathless as he suddenly develops the lamest crush on you.

best friend!satoru who is always mistaken for your boyfriend due to his blatant disregard for personal space.

if the question is brought to light when you’re around, you’ll simply laugh and decline saying “we’re just friends” — it’s a different case when he’s asked and you’re not around.

he’ll never directly confirm their suspicions — but he won’t deny them either. no, he’ll only let his face be consumed by the smuggest grin known to mankind, shrug with mischievous intent, leaving people to believe that the answer is yes.

best friend!satoru who introduces you to suguru, excited for his two best friends to meet, certain the you will hit it off right of the bat.

best friend!satoru who desperately tries to ignore the palpable tension that is between you and his raven haired friend. it was very evident from the moment you locked eyes that something were to blossom eventually.

however, satoru truly believes that the tension will cease to exist if he just pretends it isn’t there at all. he is sorely mistaken when it only takes three months for you and suguru to become official.

best friend!satoru who becomes uncharacteristically quiet whenever the three of you hang out together. he can’t help it, shooting jealous glances towards your intertwined fingers before having to try and pretend like nothing bothers him.

both you and suguru try to talk to him when you have him under four eyes, but he will always put on such a genuine smile when he tells you that there’s nothing to worry about.

best friend!satoru who has never been a person to ever live with regret — but now he truly regrets never shooting his shot with you.

in one way, before you started dating suguru, he had felt as if you were already his. not in a possessive way, just in the way that you were so deeply ingrained in each other already.

the relation he has to you is the most genuine in his life, and he took it for granted that you wouldn’t only be for him.

best friend!satoru who can’t help but be upset whenever suguru does something slightly wrong.

he has no real reason to be bothered, because it’s never anything major — and more importantly, you seem more than satisfied by suguru’s gestures.

but if satoru overhears suguru order dinner for the two of you, he can’t help but grimace at how your boyfriend always forget how you like your meat cooked. or when he goes to buy you jewlery for the first time, and satoru is annoyed about the fact that he buys the wrong material — how can he not have noticed?

but he always holds his tongue, never commenting on it to you or to suguru — until he slips up.

best friend!satoru who is casually hanging out at your place one saturday evening. he is desperately trying to cheer you up, as it’s your six month anniversary with suguru but he had to be out of town.

suddenly the doorbell rings. not long after you return with a huge smile on your face. and in your hands, the most beautiful bouquet of roses.

and even though you look happy enough, there’s only one thought that goes through satoru’s mind: “but peonies are your favourite.” he doesn’t mean to say it out loud. he doesn’t realise he has until he notices the glare of bewilderment you give him, trying to find the right words to say in the situation.

it’s not until his tiny comment you start to notice just how much satoru knows about you, stuff that suguru should know.

best friend!satoru who is constantly caught in the middle by the increasing amounts of petty fights between you and suguru. he gets to hear two sides of the same issue, and always find himself leaning in favour of you.

he tries to comfort you, like he has done for so many years, reassure you that you’re not crazy for feeling this way — and he always ends your venting sessions with “i really hate to see you like this, you know.”

best friend!satoru who witness how you always resolve things with suguru, learning from the situation. and he quietly hates himself for it wishing you weren’t able to talk things through.

best friend!satoru who constantly lives in with the naive hope that one day you will realise that suguru just isn’t right for you — that he is the one who knows you through and through, and therefore the only one who would be able to give you exactly what you deserve.

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [3]

during one of the final psych evals at Arkham right before he gets to be released, the whole thing wrapped up so tidy, just a little relapse which involved a robbery. Getting sent back to Arkham, but he got to stay at the asylum so long that he no longer has to serve a prison sentence, score!

But during that eval his overseeing psychiatrist recommended him to have a change of scenery, some fresh non polluted air.

Riddler was rather convinced the guy was making this recommendation to everyone in Arkham in their own weird way to convince them to just leave Gotham and become someone else's problem. should he notify Batman about it somehow? nah, it’ll be more interesting to see how this is gonna turn out in the long run.

But can he leave the state? Can he even leave the city? he never really bothered to look into it, at least not legally, up until now if he felt he needed to leave for one of his plans he just did it.

Turns out he can, it’s a whole hassle and a half though, first a judge and then a probation officer and he’s pretty sure both were like “what the hell is this psychiatrist guy thinking!?” but at the same time, shrink probably knows what he’s doing (WRONG) so he’s allowed to go visit out of state family or whatever.

he had to wear this nice ankle monitor though, Wayne Enterprises™ tech, not overly bulky but still very present. real fancy, and a fun extra challenge heh.

now as for a good reason to leave New Jersey he’s going to need distant relatives, and he finds some, great grandpa walker also has a son, who had a son who had a daughter Madeline, who married some guy Jack Fenton, and she lives somewhere out in the boonies Illinois. great he’ll visit her.

far enough away in all sense of the word that there is no way she knows anything about him. it would be best to call her first though, be polite about it.

“hello, you have reached Fenton works, this is Maddie speaking” 

“Riddle me this-” ah whoops, habit, oh whatever, “we don’t share parents, but certainly a part of your life, from laughter to strife. Who am I?”

there is a pause …  he’s going to be a bit disappointed if she hangs up if he’s honest.

“cousins~” comes the cheery reply.

“correct! the name is Edward Nygma, we are distantly related you and I and well-”

“oh you simply must come visit!” 

well this was rather easy, perhaps a little too easy, but she lives in the midwest so maybe just going with whatever some guy says over the phone is normal there? stranger danger not really a thing in a small town where everyone knows everyone?

things start to make a little more sense once he gets there and he’s starting to think some things might run in the family. like a preference for the colour green and weird hyperfixations and genius bordering on insanity. Though that remains to be seen, Jack does not seem like a very bright light after his very enthusiastic welcome.

their kids however are observant and sharp. young Jasmine is wasting no time trying to psychoanalyze him. and the boy, Danny, he had not really meant to and he swears he’s sticking with calling the kid Danny so he wouldn’t seem overly familiar, but he might have called him little bird a couple times now.

but that’s all whatever, he’s playing nice here. and he doesn’t even have to worry about his eccentricities tripping him up because this place is insane.

There actually is a local teen vigilante active but he seems about as loved as he’s disliked. and the ghost boy’s enemies are basically all his own kind, which another crazy thing to now know about. ghost. they are real actually, how is Gotham not completely overrun? and how do they even work? and where do they keep coming from?

Edward might be getting a little sidetracked here. He had fully intended to sneakily get his next big game plan underway all the way out here, ankle monitor be damned. but he hasn’t made any progress at all.

Instead he’s been listening to Madeline and Jack to maybe figure out what the deal is with these ectoplasmic entities, he has to know, at this point he might go crazier if he doesn’t. 

He’s making Jasmine promise him not to get her doctorate in Gotham, he’s going back and forth with space riddles with Danny.

so yeah the whole thing kinda just became a vacation, maybe the psychiatrist had the right idea after all? hmm nah, probably not. but this is fun. He’s thinking about recommending this place to some of the others.

It's different enough to get the vacation feel, but enough crazy shit happens to make it all feel like home.

it is not until Maddie wants to talk with him about potentially switching the position of godfather of Danny to him rather than some weird rich friend of theirs that Edward realizes he might have lost the plot somewhere

Apparently the little bird basically begged them with a powerpoint presentation on how he likes Edward so much more than that Vladimir guy. 

And honestly, the fellow sounds like a Dracula Lutho so even if it’s kinda sad Edward can understand why he’d be considered a better option. Even if the guy has more money and a huge company that makes him said money. And it’s not like the Fentons know about his Riddler activities.

Thinking it over, Edward does think that Danny would like Gotham and Wayne has that space program thing right? The kid is definitely smart enough for that (Nygma certified), and yeah Edward does quite like their space themed back and forth. So, fuck it, why not, what is the worst that could happen?

He doubts Maddie and Jack are gonna kick it any time soon anyway out here in the boonies, it’s just a title thing, a stamp of approval or something.

he should have known he was going to eat those words later… he had this whole beautifully elaborate trap set up for the whole Batclan, and he was just getting to the good part when his phone went off.

Had to put the whole thing on pause cause that particular contact wasn’t gonna get ignored. He did promise to be available.

If the whole thing he had planned now went tits up he could at the very least laugh later at the reactions of the bats as he told them to “hold up one second, I have to take this.” while they were all in various perilous positions. 

Sadly he did have to go, he had a very distressed godson to pick up.

[the-golden-kingdom]

As a person of colour, Toshiro is so unbelievably relatable once you realize the reasons and emotions behind his actions. He's been microaggressed upon p much all the time down to the name people call him, but he continues to be silent about it because of the cultural pressure he was raised on of having to be polite and kind and not to speak his true thoughts.

I can relate so hard to his jealousy about laios being able to be more open and confident and speak his mind. I can never bring myself to dislike him at all esp during the laios/toshiro fight because both of them are coming from very real relatable places to me. Its a nuanced conflict. Toshiro has a lot of pent up emotions he needed to get out for all the reasons i said before. And laios was rightfully upset about Toshiro not seeing him the same way he sees him and hiding all of this from him. Both of these guys are in the wrong in this situation. It's not a good guy / bad guy thing.

They both are different kinds of autistic people under different circumstances and I can honestly relate to them both on different things.

Also the scene right after dude gives him the bell and gives them a way out if things were to get bad. And with that we see he obviously cares for laios and the rest of the party despite everything.

All in all. Love u Toshiro they could never make me hate u !!

[iris-qt]

𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐

🗝️ ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ x ʜᴜꜰꜰʟᴇᴘᴜꜰꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🗝️ ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

🗝️ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

🗝️ ᴀ/ɴ: ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴜʟᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴘᴏʟʟ ʜᴇʀᴇ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ ᴅᴇᴍᴀɴᴅ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ɪ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ. ɪ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴀ ᴛʏᴘɪᴄᴀʟ ꜱᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴀᴜ ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴛᴡɪꜱᴛᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴠɪꜱɪʙʟᴇ ꜱᴛʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴏʀʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡᴇɪʀᴅʟʏ ᴘʜɪʟᴏꜱᴏᴘʜɪᴄᴀʟ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ

🗝️ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴀʟ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ʀᴜɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇɴɪᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴠᴜʟɴᴇʀᴀʙʟᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ…

Did you believe in fate? 

No.

That may be silly, I mean, you live in a magical universe where anything is possible. Magic defies the muggle laws of nature; it’s something undetectable yet very much alive. Anything could happen. Anything you can imagine. Anything you can imagine besides being in a relationship with Theodore Nott.

Yet for some wild, unbeknownst reason, the universe seems adept in proving you wrong. 

No, you didn’t believe in fate. Until you became acquainted with him.

It started off slow and undetectable. Yes, you were aware of Theodore Nott, but you tried to stay unaware of your feelings towards him. It all started in the dingy little Potions classroom, when you were seated next to him. At first you were a bit uncomfortable as he was a popular guy and popular boys weirded you out. Always so judgmental. But Theo was quiet and calm. Always so sure of every action; every dice of the ingredients, every stir of the brew. You were a pretty sociable person and so, once you decided Nott was not so off-putting after all, you began to share a few words with each other. You treasured those little conversations in the shrouded back row of the Potions room. 

“How was the DADA test for you, Nott?”

“Hey, Nott, Is it just me, or does Snape’s hair look extra greasy today?”

“HELP THEODORE MY POTIONS ON FIRE!”

That last one was not a very fond memory, but one you could not escape. Truly, you two being the only Slytherin and Hufflepuff sat next to each other, as there was an odd amount of students from both houses in that class, was the real beginning of the universe’s meddling behavior.

With all this in mind, it was painfully obvious Theo was not interested; he never quite talked to you unless you said something first. That is why you would never delude yourself with the thought of being in a relationship with him, He was an unattainable, rare flower, such as the tiburon mariposa lily that only grows in the Ring Mountain region of California. That flower is quite vulnerable to extinction due to natural and man-made disasters. That part didn’t really apply to Nott. He wasn’t the vulnerable type…

Theo, however, fell hard and fast from the moment he first spoke with you. How could someone so passionate and awkward not catch his eye?

“It was honestly a rough test. Actually, I need a tutor for DADA..”  

But you didn’t take the hint.

“Perhaps if I gave Professor Snape my hair care routine…?”

But that didn’t earn him any hair-related compliments.

“AGUAMENTI! HOLY SHIT you’re really on fire today, huh y/l/n?”

That earned him an elbow in the rib.

The series of events that the fed up universe concocted began in none other than a little grass meadow.

As usual, you had woken up at the most ungodly hour of 5 am for the sole purpose of taking your morning stroll to a hidden meadow within the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, just behind a thicket. You were walking with your sketchpad and graphite in hand, ready to capture those jewels of the earth in the faint morning light. In your opinion, the crack of dawn is when the wildflowers shine the brightest. You sat in the grass, leaning against an old oak, beginning to sketch a particularly beautiful periwinkle flower. You were sure no one else knew about this meadow; it seemed untouched by anyone’s harsh footsteps.

Imagine your surprise when you heard the plants rustle to unveil a sleepy Theodore Nott: brown locks askew and dark circles tinged red against his pale skin, a cigarette dangling from his sleep-swollen pink lips. His light eyes slightly widen at the sight of his talkative ex Potions partner.

The silence was awkward and extended; you weren’t used to engaging in conversation in your quiet haven, but of course it was you who broke the silence anyway.

“Good morning, Nott,” you say quite hoarsely, slightly clearing your throat in embarrassment. Those were the first words you’d uttered that day.

His lip twitches, ghosting a smirk at the sound of your voice.

“Morning, y/l/n. You come here often?”

You nod saying, “It’s my morning ritual at this point.”

You nod in reply, eyes ghosting over his tired appearance as he continues, “Funny. I come here every night.”

He lets out a puff of smoke into the pure air of your precious haven, and you can’t help but subconsciously glare at the wisp of smoke. Of course, he notices and lets out a small chuckle.

“Don’t like my smoking?”

“It ruins the fresh air for the flowers and plants, Nott.”

He nods thoughtfully, finishing his cigarette.

“Don’t tell me you litter your cigarette butts all over the grass,” you frown.

“Of course not, I’m not a brute,” he laughs and fishes out a portable ash tray where he neatly tucks his cigarette remains away. After another awkward silence, he walks up to you and sits down next to you, peering at your sketch but quickly shifting his gaze away when he realizes you never gave him permission to gaze upon your works of art. You laugh as you assure him, “You can look, it’s just quick sketches.”

“Looks frame-worthy to me,” he shrugs with absolutely no hint of sarcasm or doubt in his eyes. It makes you feel flustered to the point you had to look the other way.

You decide to move the conversation over to him.

“What do you do here every night? Smoke?”

He shakes his head, saying, “As much as I like to smoke at night, I don’t here.” He pulls out a book. “I read under wand-light.”

You glance over and your eyes widen as you notice its a story you had just recently finished reading.

“The Turn of the Screw? A literary masterpiece, I just finished reading it, like, a week ago.”

He smiles, eyes warm and inviting, “I was just about to say your drawings remind me of Audrey Benjaminsen’s limited edition illustrations for this book. I’ve been trying to get my hands on a copy.”

Your eyes widen even more.

“The limited edition would be a gazillion galleons, but I suppose you’re filthy rich,” you tease.

“I mean, what better thing to spend my money on?” He smirks, pushing back a stray lock of his hair that had escaped.

“Solving world hunger, ending wars, funding cancer cure research…” you smirk.

“Ok, I’m not that rich.”

You both laughed at that and talked all morning up through the first 15 minutes of your guys’ first lessons. Laughing, you both jog to your class, the dandelions in the field spreading its tufts as you both run past. Little did you both know, it was the mutual fascination with a trail of dandelion tufts in the breeze, one in the sunlight and one in the moonlight, that brought you both to discover the meadow years ago.

While this universal push succeeded in temporarily bringing you and Theo closer, the two of you fell apart as you stopped showing up to the meadow as often due to school stress and you no longer were seated with Theo in any classes. The autumn leaves floated down and shriveled up; leaving the trees bare. The cold winds carried snow through the Hogwarts air, swirling around the iced windows. 

It was time for the winter trip to Hogsmeade and you were bundled up and ready to go with 3 jackets, long socks, leg warmers, and snow boots as you braved the cold. Your scarf tucked against your face, you walked down the snowy pathway, laughing and talking with your friends as you strode through the ice.

Theo was also walking down the pathway with his friends; zoned out of their conversation while quietly observing the falling snow. 

Fate had it that you both got distracted by a reflective light in the distance at different times, and so you both left your friends group for a second to observe this flash of light.  

You were the first to separate, and when you looked back, your friends were long gone; enveloped into the icy mist.

You shrugged and began trudging through the snow, wondering where they could’ve gone off to. Suddenly, you stumbled across a little book shop that you’d been wanting to visit, but never got time to. You slowly walked up the creaking steps and into the warm embrace of the cozy shop. It was lit by yellow candlelight, dancing over the spines of rustic books. A Christmas tree in the corner shone brightly. You began getting lost in the page-riddled haze…

Theo, likewise, separated from his group a moment after you left. He bent down to find the source of the reflective light and found nothing. He raised an eyebrow annoyedly and glanced back to find himself abandoned in the snow; not a student to be seen in this blizzard. He decided to just walk in a straight line and suddenly saw a warm glow in the muggy snow. He approached a bookshop he had never noticed before. How could he overlook such a gem? Walking in, he was met with the faint smell of cinnamon and a warm atmosphere.

After a couple minutes, you laid your eyes on a particularly gorgeous spine with engraved flowers. Of course, you’d judge a book by its cover if its cover was an absolute masterpiece. You reached out to pluck it off the shelf when you felt a force pulling it back from the other side. You furrowed your brows as this turned into a game of tug of war. 

Theo had seen that this particular book had artwork painted onto its pages. He was intrigued as to what this book could be about when suddenly he was hindered from grabbing it. Refusing to let up this competition, he pulled the book to his side, but, ultimately, failed. You and Theo’s eyes met through the hole where the book had originally been, his shining eyes crinkling as he grinned at the familiar irises of y/n. 

“Brains and brawn? Could you get any better?” He joked walking to your side of the shelf and smiling.

You laughed as you handed him the book.

“Feel free to take it, Nott”

“Don’t worry, I was just admiring the painted scene on the pages.”

 You both glance at the gorgeous book for a bit when Theo breaks the silence.

“You haven’t been to the flower clearing recently.”

“Yeah, school has me fucked up… I study too late and can’t wake up that early.”

He nods thoughtfully, glancing around at the shop.

“I think this is my new favorite place.”

“I agree..” Your eyes widen as you glance at the shelf behind him. “No way. Theodore look.” You excitedly point at a limited edition copy of The Turn of the Screw with illustrations done by Audrey Benjaminsen.

Theo looks stricken as he freezes at the sight of the copy he’d been chasing for months now. It was right there, before his eyes, tucked between other worn books. He would never have caught it in this dim light.

“Am I dreaming, y/n?” He breathes out, jaw dramatically dropped at the sight.

You playfully pinch him, laughing, “I don’t think so, Nott. Call it an early Christmas miracle.”

It was as if you and Theo shared the same safe spaces. First the meadow, now this book shop. He couldn’t help but ponder how there was always something leading him to you. Something that connected the both of you. First it was the flower field, and now this book. It was if every good thing in his life was somehow connected to you…

Theo gently holds the book and observes it in the light, but he found his new revelation of you far more fascinating. He always knew he adored you, and it just so happened that fate agreed. They were constantly being pushed together; given every oppurtunity to confess their feelings. Their fear overshadowed them. Maybe it was time to stop being so fearful. 

Theo noticed you gazing at the book in awe, and smiled gently.

“Would you like to look over it with me over some butterbeer?”

Your eyes snap up at him, surprised at his question. This was the first time Theo had shown any interest in going out of his way to spend time with you. Despite the lingering cold, you blushed down to the roots of your hair.  

“I’d love to..”

He grinned, shadows dancing on his carved face. The invisible string was brighter now, wrapping around their very beings, no longer neglected.

“It’s a date.”

[oh-no-its-bird]

Thinking about my desire for a mistaken identity time travel fic where Obito and Sasuke get tossed into the warring states, but bc Sasuke looks like an Izuna clone and Obito for some reason gets the wild hair look back, they keep being mistaken for Madara and Izuna.

Notably, they keep being mistaken for Madara and Izuna as they are in the middle of attempting to beat the ever-loving shit out of eachother.

And because Obito likes causing problems for Madara and Sasuke shrimply does not give a fuck and might even appreciate the fake identity alibi, they do nothing to actually deny the mistaken identity. Obito actually encourages it, usually by loudly agreeing with whoever shouts "omg its Uchiha Madara" as he lights shit on fire.

Anything to cause the real Madara more problem, right? Karma, bitch aa

He actually wants to cut his hair short again but the temptation of getting to continue to ruin Madara's reputation is too good, so he doesnt

ANYWAYS. Thinking about all of the above again w the context of my "Kakashi is related to and bears a resemblance to Tobirama" agenda thats been steadily growing in like. Actually, I think almost every Kakashi fic Ive written so far (oops)

Maybe I want Kakashi in this now. Maybe I'm also thinking about Tenzo, who got the same "oh for some strange reason my hair is longer now" treatment as Obito and with the Mokuton, can now be mistake as Hashirama by those who have never seen him. Or even people who have seen him but logically assume he's wearing a henge.

There's only one known man with the power of Mokuton-- why would the ever believe it wasn't Hashirama (unless they were close enough to the man to truly doubt it on a personal level)

I have no real ideas for an overarching plot, but like. Obito, Sasuke, Kakashi and Tenzo mistaken identity time travel my beloved,,

Kakashi and Tenzo traveled + landed together and Obito and Sasuke did the same so neither group is aware of the other

(Kakashi and Obito eventually figure it out bc of the shared eye connection I think)

But in the mean time they actually keep managing to avoid each other bc they'll hear rumors ab "Uchiha Madara" being spotted in the town over (Obito continues to be very loud about it very on purpose) and then avoid going there, while Sasuke hears the same, figures its Obito, and sprints over to try and bash his face in

Obito finally eventually gets cornered by Kakashi, Tenzo, and Sasuke and gets his shit rocked fr fr send tweet

Sasuke and Kakashi bonding moment(s) where we tackle the uhh. Everything. Of canon. And Sasuke gives Kakashi a crumb of respect back or smthn

Idk but I just want to see Sasuke call him sensei, don't ask me how we'd get there

Meanwhile when they're finally like, exposed or whatever there's just SUCH a mess there to be had

I'm choosing Uchiha Hikaku as my first contact bc I love him dearly and think he serves as good middleground between ranks of importance and relevance

So like. Picture this.

You are Hikaku. You're sent out to investigate some rumors about Madara and Izuna fucking shit up and causing a general mess some ways away. A henge, a slander campaign, the real Madara-sama is sure.

You get there and find 3 people fighting.

(Obito, Kakashi and Tenzo's first interaction. It's tense. They may all come from the final battle, after Obito changed his mind, but there were a lot of things left unsaid and also they all probably just wanna beat the shit out of eachother anyways. Things happen, things are said, a fight is had)

Two of them bear a passing resemblance to Madara and Tobirama respectively, and the 3rd has the look of a Senju to him.

Ok. So, Senju slander campaign? Gone... wrong, he'd assume by the fact that they were all fighting.

You then recognize that the fake Madara has mismatched eyes (!!!! What the fuck !!! Culturally significant thing there !! Was he born like that? Was it a transplant?)

And the fake Tobirama(?) has a whole stolen sharingan he seems to be ACTIVLEY using (WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!! SOUND THE ALARMS!!!!! BLOODLINE THIEF ALERT !!!!!!!!)

You debate between just watching or entering the fight, but then the fake Tobirama makes some sort of reference to his sharingan eye belonging to the fake Madara's.

All thoughts come to a screeching halt.

Ok. So. Gonna get involved now.

There's a clear side here (Uchiha vs potential Senju) Hikaku can not leave his clanmate to die, and he doesn't yet know how he might have been involved in the slander campaign so it's honestly best to put this guy in his pocket and bring him back to Madara anyways

So Hikaku enters the battle, everyone makes appropriate shocked pikachu faces bc no one noticed him and aw shit it's gonna get more complicated, cool, awesome, great

(Also note; Hikaku became the eventual Uchiha head after Madara's defection so there's also a "oh shit no way" reaction from Obito specifically who knows this information. And also maybe Kakashi who I imagine knows a lot of Konoha's history and politics)

Battle continues, Tenzo uses Mokuton, Hikaku gets appropriately freaked the FUCK out at the idea of another mokuton user

Then Sasuke comes crashing out of nowhere , yay !!!

(Kakashi and Tenzo, who did not know Sasuke was here yet and are only seeing him for the first time, make more surprised pikachu faces)

Sasuke, who... possibly knew Kakashi and Tenzo were around and may have been avoiding them, wanting to signal that for now at least they were all on the same side (against Obito) nods to Kakashi specifically and gives a tense and sort of stilted, "sensei."

SO. HIKAKU IS KIND OF GOING THROUGH IT OVER HERE NOW.

Sasuke is a dead fucking wringer for Izuna in the way that only a direct relation can be. I'm talking they could absoloutley pass for twins kind of relation. Worst of all, they look around the same age (Sasuke is only a few years younger)

Hikaku is no longer fighting with a strange Uchiha against Senju agents he's now fighting with an Uchiha against another Uchiha (who's a dead wringer for his clan heir !!!!) He does not know who to believe or what side to exist on.

(Had this false Izuna called the fake Tobirama sensei? Oh god—)

Things happen, whether they lose or escape I don't know but it ends with an incredibly confused and concerned Hikaku returning to the Uchiha clan compound with tales of bloodline theft, another mokuton user, and horrifically— A possible sibling, lost and raised by the senju in secret.

Yeah. So. Madara won't react well to that. Madara won't react well to that at all.

(Izuna won't either, in the slightest. Does... does he have a twin...? Did he have a twin once, lost too early for their parents to bear to tell them...?)

It's incredibly hard for the Senju to deny any involvement when Hikaku has sharingan perfect memories to share of the fake-Izuna (Sasuke, they had called him Sasuke) standing side by side with a man who resembles Tobirama and another who is very fucking clearly using Mokuton. And that's "very fucking clearly using mokuton" seen by someone who has SEEN mokuton used in battle. Multiple times. He will not mistake it for anything else.

Anyways oops sorry for creating a horrible political scandal and also probably making the Uchiha/Senju wore like 10 times more charged teehee </3

(Obito doesn't give a shit. Sasuke swings violently between caring both too little and too much depending on the hour of the day and how the issue is framed. Kakashi and Tenzo are.... distracted. And undecided. And care about this issue from an "aw shit but Konoha wait no—" view point)

Ummmmm anyways endgame Konoha is made early (but possibly with a bit more blood involved) and Hikaku is made Hokage bc I fucking love Hikaku, yay the end !!!

[aft3rhrs]

— cherry ღ

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!father au

warnings: yandere, cheating, manipulation, corruption, pseudo incest, age gap, virgin!reader, she's quite innocent (but please always assume 18+!), inappropriate inspections ahshdhdhd, cockwarming, daddy kink, praise kink, ridiculous amounts of "good girl", mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, a sprinkle of breeding kink ooops

Namjoon was just... committed. It was his job as your father to look after your heart; and everything else that came with it.

"Show me, baby," he whispered, soft lips brushing your ear. "It's okay."

It sounded so simple. Yet the words were followed by the tip of his big, hard cock pushing into you, hot breaths fanning your neck.

Tight.

You were so tight and sensitive; so inexperienced. Ever since Namjoon found out you were untouched, the thought haunted his each waking moment; and in his dreams, a fear followed, creeping up his bones, infecting all cells until his body felt sick.

What if someone else got to touch you first?

Not a soul, dead or alive deserved that. He's seen you cry over your crushes and eventually exes, seen you open up like a flower, then wither away to nothing. Boys your age were just that; boys. They didn't know how to take care of themselves, let alone of you. They were fickle leafs fluttering in the wind, and Namjoon was a rock; always there for you to lean on, the foundation of the very ground he helped you learn to walk on.

So wasn't it only natural he'd be concerned who gets to put their hands on you? Wasn't it only natural he loved you so much all other women paled beside you?

Everything between you had to remain a secret, of course, but there was nothing wrong with that — because Namjoon was your dad, and he knew best. Besides, you weren't blood related, either, and that seemed like a perfectly valid explanation for why he could do things no real dad should. It seemed reasonable when he'd come into your room and lock the door, hands sneaking under your shirt to wake you up, holding you close.

You've never really had a father before him. You didn't know what that kind of bond was supposed to look like, though you certainly longed for it. Your mother had a few boyfriends, fleeting relationships that quickly took away your childish hope of ever being the jewel in someone's crown.

And then he came along and changed everything.

That was how you found yourself here, back pressed into his chest under the weight of soft blankets. The only problem was that simple, routine inspections were not enough anymore; it was not enough to feel you wrapped around his fingers night after night. He just had to be sure no one else took what was his. Had to feel your pretty, virgin cunt struggle to take all of him, mark it with his shape.

He kissed your shoulder, stroking your hand with his thumb in mindless circles.

"Good girl."

Sleepy, and getting quite used to having him inside you, you tried to keep your eyes closed, not react to his words. But you felt yourself clench around his girth, and you knew he felt it too, from the way he moaned into your neck.

"Sorry," you whispered shakily, a wave of heat crawling up your spine.

Namjoon hugged you tighter, the scent of his cologne soothing your senses.

"What are you sorry for, baby?" He asked softly. "Feels nice... to be close. Doesn't it?"

You nodded slowly. Namjoon graced your shoulder with another sweet peck, his lips so warm on your skin.

"Nothing wrong with that, hm?"

He always said that. You couldn't help but feel conflicted; having him like this was so intimate and comforting. But on the other hand, it left you addicted to the feeling, desperate for things you knew you shouldn't really want. It didn't help how often he reassured you; tempted you with promises that if you ever needed more, all you had to do was ask. It was completely normal for your cute, little hole to clench around daddy's cock like that, after all; it was where he belonged, and your body knew it, too.

He kept kissing your face, like all he wanted was for you to know that just as you belonged to him, he always belonged to you. Nothing else mattered. Your tummy twisted when you felt his cock twitch inside you, and you attempted to swallow the lump building in your throat, willed your thighs to stay still.

"My good girl," he breathed, "only daddy's. Right?"

You nodded, too scared to open your mouth and make a sound. You had no idea what would come out if you tried.

Namjoon could read you like an open book, even with his eyes closed — all the more when he was buried so deep inside you. His large palm slid down to your stomach, settling under the cotton of your oversized shirt. The pads of his fingers brushed the swell of your breasts, knocking your heart out of its steady rhythm.

"You're so wet. Is that only for me too?"

You pushed yourself to nod again, only this time that wasn't satisfying enough either. He skimmed the underside of your breast, opening his hand slowly enough to make your head spin. Your pussy clenched, gushing arousal, tummy churning as he finally gripped the soft flesh.

"Say, 'yes, daddy'."

You stifled a whimper, your voice barely rising above a whisper.

"Yes, daddy."

Another twitch inside you. You forced yourself to remain still and quiet, though Namjoon seemed too lost in you to notice your efforts, too focused on the throbbing of his cock. He squeezed your breast, his palm resting right above your pounding heart.

"And you're daddy's girl. No one else is ever gonna see you or touch you like this, no one else ever has. Right?"

A soft whine fled your lips. It was embarrassing to submit yourself like this, so openly and willingly. Yet the craving for his approval, his love and his touch was stronger than any shame, bringing you to nod some more, your eyes falling shut.

"Yes, daddy."

The bridge of his nose brushed against your neck tenderly, while his cock kept twitching.

"Good girl."

These words always instantly went to your head - and cunt. You wanted to keep being good for him, to reach for all the things he oh so kindly gave you permission to take. It was like he was just waiting for you to break until you had no scruples about the taboo of the situation. Because Namjoon himself was shameless, especially when it came to the things he wanted.

And all he wanted was you.

At last, he settled a warm hand on your hip to slip out of you. You could feel the way your pussy protested, reluctant to let him go, aching pathetically and dribbling out slick.

It was hard to breathe.

Namjoon himself was anything but happy knowing he was going to have to go back to bed frustrated again. It was probably a mixture of that, and his heart stirring at the pitiful sound you made, that broke some of his resolve. He still wanted you to listen to him like the angel he knew you were, wanted to hear you ask him to touch you, to defile you. But he simply leaned over you, giving his stiff cock a squeeze. And then he left another kiss on your cheek, the next words coming out hushed.

"I know it hurts, baby... It hurts me too. How about daddy helps you tomorrow? Would that make it go away? Hm? Would your little pussy feel better if I rubbed it for you? Just a small, tiny massage, and then it won't hurt so bad anymore."

You were starting to feel light headed, your lungs heavy, cunt pulsing in response to his suggestion. How sweetly he talked to you, like a dad just taking care of his daughter, made it sound filthier, made your body burn. You opened your mouth to respond — slowly reaching out — little girl finally about to take the hand that has been waiting so patiently for her to grasp it from the darkness of her closet.

"Please, daddy," you uttered quietly, heart beating out of your chest.

Namjoon gave his cock another squeeze, precum dripping down the thick shaft. He needed to get off, but he'd get through one more night of this torture. So that tomorrow, after all this time, he could finally release all the tension while he felt you quiver on his dick. He'd give you months worth of cum, breed you so nice and full; and that's before he'd even get to fuck you. He tried to keep his composure, gave your pretty face more kisses as he tucked himself back into his boxers.

"Good girl. I love you."

You rubbed your thighs together as soon as you felt him sit up, ready to make his way back to your mother.

"I love you too," you sighed, unable to think straight anymore.

He blew out your candle, then looked down at you, affectionately stroking your hair.

"I know. Sweet dreams, baby."

Maybe he could see into the deepest, darkest corners of your mind; or maybe it was just a precaution. Either way, as much as he loved spoiling you, what kind of father didn't discipline their precious child when needed?

"Don't," he warned softly, ghosting his lips over your temple, "even think about touching yourself tonight. Daddy's gonna help you tomorrow, as much as you want. Be good and wait for me, or I'll get mad. You don't want that, do you, angel?"

A wave of chills flooded your skin. Finding no courage to look up into his eyes, you nodded again, hugging your pillow tighter.

"Good girl."

Hot all over, you watched him close the door and turned, immediately met with his scent lingering on the sheets. How were you supposed to fall asleep now?

At least you weren't alone. Namjoon was asking himself the same question, but he's been patient for so long already. He's waited, and waited, the scent of cherries lingering in the air around him, craving to bite into the sweet fruit, satiate his hunger. The wait would be worth it, he knew. And oh, he'd make sure to make it worth your while, too. All good girls deserved rewards. Especially from their dads.

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (12/?)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, descriptions of sexual fantasies, smut, the angst, semi-public sex, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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You will live with me.

She didn't know why this thought simultaneously frightened and relieved her.

The truth was that she had always wanted just that.

To be with him.

To their relief, Aegon recovered quickly and remembered his lesson well, appearing no more at his brother's premises.

The state in which he returned to her that morning, the way he looked, sobbing like a small child exactly as he had done then, that summer, meant that even though she knew what he had done was wrong, so very wrong, she could not denounce or reject him.

She knew that something had simply snapped inside him and that he was terrified that she would leave him now.

Although he had thought for sure that this would be the end of them, she saw his sincere despair, what he had hidden inside for so long as well as the depth of feelings, which made her finally believe that he really loved her.

He loved her and it was a love beyond reason, deep and hot, terrifyingly dark and giving her a sense of security at the same time.

From the moment she made her choice, it seemed to her that for some reason something had changed, although she did not know why.

In her mind, they had simply started living together as a couple.

They worked together, studied together, shopped and cooked together, talked for hours in bed, made love and fell asleep in each other's embrace only to wake up the next day and start all over again.

After she turned off her phone so she wouldn't see the missed calls from her mother and Jace, a strange calm settled in her mind.

The calm before the storm.

They both knew it, but they didn't talk about it, focusing more on spending time together, enjoying the simple closeness, the touch of each other's hands, the kisses on the forehead and nose, the safe, warm embrace of their arms.

Her uncle's jealousy had prevented him from forming any kind of relationship with Robb that she could recognise as warmth, however, the fact that he had then stood up for them meant that they had no longer glared at each other with malevolent glances and both seemed to have come to terms with their presence.

She knew that there had been some sort of complete climax of his emotions that morning, and that everything he had felt had poured out along with his tears, which had for some reason made his nature and behaviour soften a little, at least in her presence.

It seemed to her at certain moments that he was a child again: not in terms of his naivety or the vocabulary he used, but something in his gaze, his touch, the way that even when they were among other people he would lay his head on her thighs, sitting on the grass with her, used to her always stroking his hair, made her feel that he was that boy again.

He seemed tired to her, but also relaxed and at ease, his manner and reaction no longer so aggressive with his existence limited to working by her side and being as close to her as possible.

She knew he was trying to recover, to pull himself together after what had happened, to understand who he was now and what he really wanted.

This theoretical calm was disturbed when Criston called him, saying that his people wanted to meet with him to discuss a few things. The expression on his face as he listened to Cole was unnatural and some part of her thought he was afraid to go back there.

He was afraid of what they all thought of him now.

"Let me go with you." She said and before he could refuse, she completed her thought. "They know we're together. Let them see that I am doing this of my own free will. That you are no deviant or rapist."

He swallowed hard at her words, looking blankly at his phone, fighting with himself in his mind.

"…only this one time. On the condition that you stay next to me all the time and don't speak. Do you understand? Even if I tell them something you don't like. You can't rebuke me in front of my men." He said coolly, looking at her carefully, and she sighed.

"Do you really think I could do this to you?" She asked in pain, seeing that he was closing himself in the stone fortress of his mind again.

Something changed in his gaze, warmth and affection flashed across his face, proof that he felt something deep inside himself at her words.

"No. Of course not." He whispered in shame, looking down at his fingers as if to remind himself that, in fact, she had never done anything to hurt him.

That she had always been on his side.

She wasn't quite sure how a mafia boss's girlfriend should present herself: she imagined girls in short leather skirts and cabaret tights, with cut-out cleavage and strong, defiant make-up.

She decided she wasn't going to pretend to be someone she wasn't and wore a simple, black, tight-fitting dress, the only one she had with her, her hair loose and falling in light waves over her shoulders.

She wondered if her uncle would comment on her appearance in any way, he, however, was immersed deep in his thoughts, clearly impatient, walking around the room.

"Ready?" He asked as she turned towards him, and she nodded.

"Let's go."

As they got into the car, midnight struck on the clock: all around them the road was empty and dark. She swallowed quietly as she looked at her fingers, wondering if she should ask.

She decided, however, that she couldn't stand it and needed to know.

"Will Alys be there too?"

She noticed out of the corner of her eye that he flinched at the mention of that name and glanced at her quickly, surprised, looking back at the road after a moment.

"No. Where did that question come from?" He asked, forcing himself to be calm, but she heard his voice tremble.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he was terrified.

That there was something between them that he didn't want her to know about.

"She told me that you were sleeping with each other. I found out from her that you overdosed." She explained, turning her gaze towards the side window, feeling an unpleasant discomfort in her heart.

The thought of their naked, sweaty bodies entwined together, their heavy breaths, her hands trailing over his skin made her feel tears under her eyelids.

She heard him draw in a loud breath, at once terrified, impatient and frustrated, his tongue licking his lower lip before he spoke his next sentence.

"There's been nothing between us for over a year. Since…" He didn't finish and she looked at him, wondering if what she was thinking had happened.

He revealed to me the name he calls you by accident.

Let's just say it slipped out to him in a moment of elation because he forgot it wasn't you lying beneath him.

She remained silent, feeling that he was tense and angry, sensing subconsciously that if she kept dragging the subject and asking more questions, he would eventually explode.

There has been nothing between us for over a year.

Although she should be relieved, her body was filled with sadness, tears one after the other running down her cheeks at the thought that instead of writing her off, meeting her, he preferred to fuck another woman, to spend time with her, to open his heart to her.

"– hey – hey, baby – I told you, there's nothing between us anymore – why are you crying? –" He asked in a shaky voice, placing his hand on hers, his voice soft and quivering as his thumb stroked her skin in a gesture he surely wanted to comfort her with.

"– I wrote to you for eight years – begging you to see me – to talk to me – and you spent that time with her – that realisation hurts me so much –" She muttered in a breaking voice, suddenly bursting into sobs, hiding her face in her free hand, the other held clenched on his.

"– baby, no – no, no, no, shhh –" He mumbled out in a panic, stopping at the side of the road, leaning over her immediately as he switched on the emergency lights.

He stroked her cheek and unbuckled her seatbelt, pulling her close to him, and though she didn't want it, she allowed him to lift her awkwardly and sit her on his lap.

She twisted, trying to find some more comfortable position as his arms locked her in a tight embrace, snuggling her face into his neck. His lips placed several warm, lingering, sticky kisses on the skin of her face before he sighed heavily, apparently trying to gather his thoughts.

"– I was afraid to meet you – I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to let you go – that I would pull you down with me – and that's exactly what happened – with her I was only fulfilling my fantasies about you, but we weren't in a relationship – we were both sleeping with other people at the time as well –" He muttered and she just listened, shocked by his words, letting his fingers comb lazily through her long hair.

"– the first woman I fucked was twenty years older than me – I guess I was looking for a reflection of my mother in her and just wanted someone to hug me – when she put her hand in my trousers, when she sat on top of me – mmm – I felt dirty – I closed my eyes then and thought of you – I imagined you lying on a towel on the beach in a bathing suit, reading a book – I imagined that you looked at me and smiled – that you held out your hand to me and told me we should go swimming – that as soon as we were submerged in the water up to your waist, I drew you to me and kissed you –"

He whispered in a trembling, breaking voice, and she just continued in his embrace, horrified and heartbroken by what she was hearing, feeling herself whooping with her own tears as she tried to catch her breath.

They both sighed as one of his hands slid down to her thigh, travelling lower and lower.

"– I imagined that you enjoyed it – that you moaned when I enclosed your buttocks in my hands – when my fingers pushed the material of your panties aside and sunk in here –" He muttered, clearly letting his fantasies carry him away, brushing his lips against her neck as his fingers slid under the material of her underwear, invading her warm womanhood, dripping and pulsing because of his words.

"– I imagined that you were leaking for me – that when I slipped my fingers into you, you were all wet – ah –" He moaned as, in keeping with his words, he teased her throbbing pussy, moist and slick under his fingers, two of them slowly sliding deep into her slit.

"– Aemond – yes –" She whimpered and they kissed, hot and passionate, panting into each other's mouths, her hips involuntarily beginning to roll back and forth to the rhythm of his hand, letting his fingertips go as deep as he desired.

His tongue burst between her sweet, puffy lips at her words with his grunt of satisfaction, his hand let go of her and reached for his belt, undoing it in a quick, nimble motion.

"– come here –" He whispered, watching with dreamy eyes as she turned in his lap, slipping her panties off her legs, feeling like she was having déjà vu.

It had looked exactly the same when he had betrayed her.

She knew he wouldn't do it this time – the almost childlike helplessness in his eyes, his wide-open mouth, his erection pulsing in his hand which he squeezed with primitive, simple strokes merely looking at her.

She settled herself over him, slowly lowering herself onto the thick head of his cock: they both sighed loudly, wrinkling their brows as if in pain, their hands stroking their cheeks and hair in some powerless attempt to soothe each other.

"– Rhaenys –" He called out to her, as if melting into the darkness that was his heart, like Hades who called out to his Persephone from the cold, terrifying underworld, unable to bear separation any longer, wanting his wife back.

She was like Cora, stolen from her mother by her own uncle, the god of death, cold as black marble, who devoured her and her light every day.

She moaned into his mouth at that thought, letting their lips melt together in greedy, loud, fiery kisses full of their saliva, their tongues colliding and licking each other, their hands clenched on their bodies refusing to let go.

A pleasant tingling sensation rippled through her lower abdomen as she let him slide deep inside her, all the way in, responding eagerly to his every sharp, sure push.

"– yes – yes, yes, yes, baby, yes –" He breathed out into her throat, thrusting his hips forward so that he slammed into her at the angle where he could give her the greatest pleasure. She hugged his neck, pressing her forehead against his, looking deeply into his eyes, seeing in them everything she wanted.

He was helpless, weak, thirsty, terrified, in love.

"– please –" He mumbled, and she snuggled into him, sinking her swollen lips into his, feeling her weeping cunt begin to throb around his erection, sucking it inside. They both groaned, letting their bodies find their own pace, with the loud splats of their bodies building their way to their fulfilment.

"– I love you – I love you –" She whispered into his mouth again, again and again, feeling his cock twitching deep inside her each time, all wet with her fleshy walls, dripping with her desire, his fingers digging hard into the soft skin of her ass letting her know he was close to his peak.

His free hand tightened on her hair and his lips pressed against hers as he came inside her, bursting into a sob the sound of which was muffled by her throat, his eyes clenched in pleasure and pain as one by one tears began to run down his cheeks red with emotion.

There were no words with which she could reassure him, explain to herself or him the relief they felt when they both finally came to terms with what had happened, the fact that there was never any going back for them, that all the bad decisions they had made were because they believed they would only be a disappointment to each other.

Meanwhile, he had found peace, solace, fulfilment in her.

His lost haven.

She cuddled him into her, letting him snuggle against her chest, his arms enclosing her in a tight grip as her hand stroked his hair and face slowly, trying to reassure him.

"– I'm here – it's alright – shhh, my love –" She whispered, her voice like the quiet hum of the sea.

She felt him tremble all over with emotion, his breath heavy and uneven, his embrace pathetically childlike, innocent, wanting only to find shelter.

They lingered like this for a long time, trailing their fingers over each other's bodies, once in a while placing a gentle, warm, soft kiss on each other's skin, his soft manhood still deep inside her. His free hand stroked her bare buttock exactly as it had been before he had forcibly taken her for himself, never to return her again.

Her heart belonged to him.

Before she slid off him she kissed his forehead and his hand found hers, squeezing it, looking straight into her eyes.

"– I've never kissed any of them – I've never fallen asleep next to any of them –" He mumbled, and she smiled, wide and genuine.

They kissed again, this time tenderly and innocently, like when they were children, eight years ago, their lips only pressed together.

She sat down on the seat next to him as he switched off the emergency lights and moved on, trying hard in the darkness to find her panties. When she finally succeeded, she put them on over her legs and sighed.

His hand found hers blindly, their fingers entwined in a warm, sweet embrace.

Her heart was filled with affection so intense that she felt like it would burst.

When they got out of his car and she saw the big blue neon sign in front of her with the words Heavenly Beach and the two palm trees standing just outside the entrance, she felt herself grow sick at the mere memory of what had happened to her there – her uncle must have seen the horror in her eyes, as he walked up to her and placed his hand on her back.

"– let's go –" He said, his hand rising from her back to her shoulder, stroking her skin with his thumb.

The security guards standing in front of the entrance made big eyes at the sight of them – or rather at the sight of her uncle – and of course let them pass without a line, muttering under their breath a quiet ‘good evening, boss’.

He, however, did not answer them, not even bestowing a single glance on them, stepping into his role – when she looked at his face it was like stone, his gaze blank and dark.

Exactly as it was then, that day, during his father's birthday, when they were talking on the pier.

He let her walk in front of him between the people, but his fingers touched her waist, her shoulder, or her back again and again, as if he wanted to give her a sense of security, the fact that he was close and nothing was threatening her.

She swallowed hard as she saw that people sitting at tables or dancing on the dance floor were looking at them, saying something to each other, intrigued and terrified.

She wondered if they had just talked to each other about the fact that she was the famous girl he was related to and liked to fuck.

Although she shouldn't, she felt amusement and pride at the thought.

For her he had given up everything.

For her he defied his grandfather.

For her, he became a different kind of monster.

Her Hades.

When they reached the lodge where his men and associates were apparently seated, everyone froze: there were young girls hugging most of them, some looking more defiant, others sweet, laughing loudly, looking at her with big eyes.

On the table, besides whisky and vodka, lay a white powder that they were apparently just snorting through their noses.

She stopped and looked at her uncle, not knowing what to do or where to sit, after a moment, however, several men moved over, making room for them, seating themselves on the other side.

"– come –" He whispered in her ear so that she barely heard it, his hand touching her back.

So she sat up first, not knowing where to look, and he sat down beside her, his hand immediately on the side of her waist, holding her close.

"– why are there such delays in payment? – I warned your father that one more situation like this and I would take over the Black Storm – I knew he had problems with reading, but I didn't know he had them with counting as well –" Her uncle hissed harshly and coldly, looking over the gathered with a gaze from which she herself shuddered, yet feeling no fear.

His thumb stroked her waist almost invisibly, but she felt it, his gesture indicating that she shouldn't worry about it and let him do his thing.

One of the girls twisted in place, crossing her legs, bending over slightly, probably because she wanted her rather impressive cleavage to be seen better. She smiled in a way that was probably meant to be seductive, but she wasn't sure it impressed her uncle.

When she looked at his face she could see that he was bored and impatient.

"– my father is not happy with the fact that you have assigned him so few people – by having so much goods coming through the club, he thinks he deserves more protection –" She said, fiddling with her necklace with the logo of some expensive, tacky shop.

"– Floris –" Her uncle began, rather calmly and gently. "– don't piss me off –"

The girl swallowed hard, her hand frozen in a half-motion, as if she wondered if she had overheard herself.

"– your father got as much of my people as I saw fit – if he has a grievance, let him sell the club back to me and I'll pay him off – the deal was different – several of my boys complained about you and your sisters not knowing the boundaries of good manners and that you make them drive around town like princesses in their free time –" He said coldly, complete silence all around him.

She looked at him in disbelief, seeing the fire in his gaze, his jaw clenched in rage, his fingers on her waist involuntarily digging into her skin under her dress.

Her heart was pounding like mad.

Floris licked her full lower lip, clearly thinking hard about something.

"– is that your famous niece? – her persona is already legendary in our circles –" She said, something in her uncle's gaze that frightened her.

His face was suddenly indifferent, his irises completely black and empty: she thought he looked like a predator who was just looking at his prey.

She involuntarily touched his thigh, wanting to reassure him, but he didn't look at her, apparently afraid that he would then step out of his role.

"– what's your name? –" She turned suddenly towards her, all eyes on them.

She froze, not knowing what to do or say, for she was not supposed to speak after all – she looked at her uncle, his gaze fixed on her face, full of pain, rage, but also affection.

She felt his hand stroke her waist, his wordless permission for her to speak.

She looked around at the faces around her, men and women huddled against their chests, staring at her as if she were some rare object in a museum they were looking at from behind glass.

"– Rhaenys –" She whispered.

She felt his hand on the back of her head, and with a soft movement he forced her to lean in, nuzzling her face into the hollow of his neck, as if he wanted to protect her.

"– you will get one more of my men, but no more driving you shopping or to the beautician – my men are not your dogs –" He said coolly, but already a little more politely, as if he hoped that if he complied with her request, she would leave her alone.

Floris wanted to say something, but was interrupted by another man, tanned and handsome, with dark hair elegantly combed back and an evenly trimmed beard.

"– we have a problem with one of the deliveries – several packages are stuck at the border – the police are bribed, but the prosecutor's office is snooping around and trying to get the secret service involved –" He said, and her uncle sighed heavily, hugging her closer to him, putting his hand on her head so that he covered her ear.

He didn't want her to listen.

"– talk to who you need to talk to, Cole – we're not short of money, but we're short of trusted people – we need someone in the prosecutor's office – let them focus on the human traffickers, not us –" He said, but she heard it as if through a fog, the blinking, bright lights around her tiring her already exhausted eyes, so she just closed them.

She could hear conversations and music all around her, felt her uncle glancing down at her, stroking her back, apparently wanting her to just fall asleep in his embrace. As a natural reflex, she placed her hand on his chest, where his heart was beating, and he did not push her away.

She could feel him smoking a cigarette, the smell of his black leather jacket, his aftershave and his own scent calmed her, making her finally do what he wanted and fall asleep.

She shuddered when she felt him shake her gently, there was no one around them on the couch. He took a strand of her hair behind her ear, his lips placing a soft, tender kiss on her forehead.

"– we'll sleep here in my office and drive back to the hotel in the morning – okay? –" He whispered, and she only nodded.

She let him take her in his arms and lift her up, holding her buttocks. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging her cheek to his, seeing the last drunken people sitting at the bar and dancing on the dance floor, barely able to stay on their feet, as if through a haze.

They walked into some dark corridor, then she heard the clack of keys and the sound of a door opening. When they got inside it was completely dark until he turned on the desk lamp – he walked over to the sofa and laid her on it, pulling his leather jacket off over her head.

He turned off the light and came to her, laying on the cramped space behind her back, covering their bodies with his jacket, his face snuggled into the hollow of her neck, his hands closed on her breasts.

"– sleep – you're safe with me –" He whispered, and she simply tightened her fingers on his arms, surrounded by his wonderfully familiar warmth.

"– you're my Hades – and I'm your Persephone – that's how I see us –" She hummed, half asleep, and he froze, cuddling her into himself harder.

"– Persephone –" She heard him hum next to her ear and closed her eyes, feeling at peace.

His Queen of the Underworld.

She thought she had only been sleeping for a few minutes when the alarm clock on his phone snapped them out of their deep slumber, but it turned out that it had actually been several hours. They left the club through the back exit to which her uncle had the keys and got into his car, barely conscious and tired.

"– I need to get a coffee at some station –" He muttered, starting the engine, and she nodded.

She couldn't believe that the boy who sat next to her now and the one she saw then, at that table, were the same person.

They stopped at the station to buy themselves something to drink and to eat. Her boyfriend stepped behind her, placing his hands on her hips, leaning over her ear.

"– look how many lollipops you have, a whole lot to choose from – I'll buy you some if you want –" He murmured, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, and she smiled involuntarily, feeling a pleasant warmth in her belly at his words.

"– strawberry –" She said and heard him smile too, satisfied.

"– I'll have coffee, tea, two sandwiches, this strawberry lollipop and this candy bracelet –" He said and she hugged him like a teddy bear, feeling only joy, only peace.

She didn't know how it was possible that they were so happy, that in some fucked up, unexplained way it was working.

They, together.

It seemed so right.

As they moved further down the road it was just beginning to dawn. Eating her lollipop and looking around it was only after a while that she noticed they were driving the wrong way.

"– where are we going? – you need to turn back –" She said, looking behind her, feeling a sudden attack of panic and terror.

No, no, no, no, please, God, no.

Her uncle looked at her surprised, his mouth parted wide when he realised what had frightened her.

"– no – no, baby, easy – we'll go back to the hotel, but later – there's one place I want to visit on the way – nothing bad, I promise –" He said, squeezing her hand in his, but she remained uneasy until she realised that she had seen the landscapes they passed before.

They were driving to the sea.

She felt a tightness in her throat as he parked close to the beach, on the other side of which was the large villa that now belonged to him, where they had then spent their entire holiday.

As soon as they got out of the car she was struck by the pleasant, crisp sea breeze, the squeal of seagulls flying over their heads and that familiar hum. She moved ahead thinking how when she was a child it all seemed so much bigger to her, reaching into infinity, as if this sea had no end.

She felt the tears one by one run down her face as she heard their childish voices in the back of her head, the precious coins, shells, cartridges and bottles they found, thinking themselves explorers.

She pulled off her shoes as she stepped onto the sand, wanting to feel it under her feet – it was pleasantly warm and soft, slightly damp, exactly as she remembered it. She only stopped at the shore, the salt water washing over the toes of her feet, the sun rising lazily over the horizon.

She felt his arms embrace her shoulders, snuggling her back into his body, his lips placed a soft, gentle kiss on her neck.

"– in my fantasies, I always imagined that I would take you here again – that I would be standing with you, as I am now, watching the sun rise –" He said, she heard him smile, while at the same time his voice was breaking, as if he was as moved as she was.

Her fingers clenched on his arms at the thought, her hair blown by the light breeze.

"– have you often thought about what we have lost here? –" She asked quietly, looking far ahead, thinking that somehow a new day had dawned for them too.

She swallowed hard when his fingers ran over the inside of her wrist, tracing the thin line of her scar.

"– relentlessly – it was like torture – thinking of hundreds of scenarios – what would have happened if I hadn't been your uncle, if my father hadn't been submerged in all that shit, if I hadn't lost an eye then, if Rhaenyra hadn't taken you away from there that day –" He said with a regret from which she felt a sting in her heart.

She looked at him over her shoulder, and his full lips, in some natural, sweet reflex of tenderness, placed a warm, soft kiss on her forehead.

"– I took you from your mother – I forced you to sink into the darkness with me –" He whispered, stroking her silky cheek with his thumb, something in the look of his healthy eye from which she felt a pleasant pulsing between her thighs.

"– it was my choice this time –"

He swallowed hard at her words, something in his gaze from which she felt a shiver, as if he had made a decision.

"– I want to be the father of your children – I want us to be a family – to have a home – a future –" He whispered, letting her go slowly – as she turned, he saw that he had knelt down.

"– Aemond, what are you –" She gasped, terrified, unsure if he really wanted to do what she was thinking, his gaze hot and pleading, filled with tears.

"– I want it, Rhaenys – fuck, I've always wanted it – I don't give a shit about this country, about the law, about morality, about good manners, about how and why we're related –" He mumbled out in a breaking voice, looking at her with eyes big with terror and affection, making her heart stop in her throat.

"– but if I pay the right people, if we get a dispensation, we can have a religious marriage, the one in the church – I don't give a damn if I have to bribe the Pope himself and all the cardinals in the Vatican, I don't care how long it takes – please –" He sobbed, clamping his hands on her waist, pressing his face into her stomach, trying to catch his breath.

She swallowed hard, feeling her hands tremble, still raised in the air, tears one by one running down her face red with emotion.

After all, they had been together for such a short time, she thought.

And yet they had loved each other all their lives.

"– yes –" She whispered.

She saw him lift his head, meeting her gaze, his lips parted in a heavy breath of shock and disbelief.

"– do you mean it? –"

She nodded, not knowing what more she could say, feeling helpless and ashamed.

"– we've completely lost our minds –" She mouthed, wiping her red face, trying to calm down as he got up quickly from his knees, reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket.

She involuntarily burst out laughing when she saw that he had taken out the candy bracelet he had bought her earlier at the station.

"– what? – they didn't have rings – I had a difficult task –" He grunted, putting the bracelet on her wrist, sweet and colourful.

She looked up at him with a smile as he pulled her close, looking at her with a gaze in which she saw only love.

"– then you get to pick out a real ring for yourself, and this is something you can eat – it's a win-win situation –" He purred, and as she threw her arms around his neck they kissed tenderly, melting their lips together in a warm, moist kiss.

She stroked his cheek as he pressed his forehead against hers, both of them looking sideways towards the building that had once belonged to his father.

"That's where we'll raise our children. One day."

They walked the distance to the house where they had spent that holiday on foot along the beach, holding hands, taking exactly the same route as every day when they seemed to be the happiest children in the world.

When they finally arrived at their destination and her uncle opened the door with the keys he had taken out of his trouser pocket, she was struck by how, although everything looked the same, it was completely different. The main hall and corridor seemed cramped to her, the smell inside was stifling, indicative of the fact that no one had gone inside for many years.

They both made their way up the stairs – she involuntarily headed for the room that belonged to her at the time.

She looked inside, feeling some strange kind of discomfort and fear, as if she were about to see something terrifying. However, she saw before her an ordinary, bright little room with white wooden furniture, the bed she had slept on for the first few nights, a desk, a few chairs and a wardrobe.

She approached it with a smile, seeing that it was, as always, slightly ajar, the long, old gowns of Alicent sticking out of it.

"– I always thought it was the tentacles of a monster – that's what it looked like at night – I was afraid someone was hiding inside and would devour me –" She said, stepping closer, tucking the soft material into her fingers, feeling her uncle's presence behind her.

She heard him swallow hard, his fingers running over her back in an affectionate gesture.

"– let's go to my room –"

She stared at the bookshelf filled with small volumes of Mighty Vhagar stories panting along with him, hearing his grunts and sighs of pleasure at her ear each time with the soft, lazy thrust of his hips he sank into her moist, warm flesh, welcoming him home.

They were bare; the embrace of their arms held them close, as if they felt subconsciously that they needed to experience this together, here, in this place, to take something that had been taken from them. Her fingers traveled along his neck and down his spine to his buttocks, kneading them in her palms, his low groan of pleasure and the shudder that shook him testified to what he thought of her touch.

"– who took you for the first time? – hm? –" He breathed out into her ear, stroking her soft hair, slowly quickening his pace.

She closed her eyes, tilting her head back, letting his full, thirsty mouth find the crook of her neck, her leaking pussy opening again and again on his hard, swollen erection, filled to the brim with him.

"– you – here, on this bed –" She whispered and felt his cock throb harder inside her, delighted by her response. His fingers clamped down on the soft skin of her cheeks, forcing her to look at him, his mouth wide open, his gaze clouded with pleasure and something else, darker, deeper.

"– are you sure? – not some Robb? –" He hissed, something in his words sounding both threatening and despairing at the same time, his deep desire to regain everything in his mind he had lost over these eight years.

She shook her head, combing her fingers through his short hair, spreading her thighs wider in front of him, rocking her hips in response to his lustful, sharp thrusts, the slapping of their bodies against each other loud and shameless, sticky with her moisture.

"– no – Alys, Robb – it was just a dream, my love –" She whispered. His brow arched in pain as he leaned towards her, his puffy, moist lips finding hers in a sweet, tender, warm kiss, at once childlike and mature, full of affection.

They groaned into each other's throats as his wide hands clamped down on the soft skin of her buttocks, his hips began to slam into her slick, throbbing pussy as if he wanted to erase any trace that deep inside her could ever be another man.

"– I will never let you go –" He breathed out, their tongues meeting halfway, licking the very tips of each other, making them both gasp with delight.

She threw her arms around his neck and let him sink into her mouth, his body pressing her to the bed, which creaked loudly beneath their silhouettes writhing in ecstasy, the slaps and clicks of her moisture so loud that its sound brought her to the edge of her peak.

"– uncle – take care of me – ah –" She mewled and threw her head back, moaning from the sweet delight that shook her body, his loud, surprised gasp told her that he had come too, his body froze in stillness, wanting to focus only on the greedy pulsing of their bodies around each other.

She felt his warm seed inside her, a pleasant tingling in her lips, in her nipples and the corners of her fingers at the thought that her own uncle loved her a little too much.

Afterwards, they lay in silence, cuddled into each other: her head was lying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, the fingers of his hand roaming her naked body from her shoulders, to her head, neck and back, making her shiver.

"– our parents will never accept this –" She whispered, stroking his stomach with her hand. She heard him sigh softly, his fingers combing through her hair.

"– it's too late anyway –"

Although they were terribly tired and could barely see with their eyes, trying to stay awake while they worked, they were both happy. Even though no one understood the meaning of the bracelet on her wrist, he kept playing with it when he said or asked her something, making her walk around smiling all day.

And then she noticed her mother in the distance talking to her professor.

"Miss Strong. Would you please come over?" He called out, and she froze, feeling her heart stop beating.

She'd endured anything, the screams of Daemon and Jace, but not this.

Not her.

When she looked at her uncle, she saw panic in his eyes.

She lowered her head and moved forward, unable to even look at her.

They sat down in one of the tents where the workers usually rested during breaks, but now it was empty, and she knew that this conversation could not be heard by anyone.

Her mother's hand clamped down on hers as soon as he sat down next to her, its familiar touch making her feel tears welling under her eyelids and a deep, all-encompassing shame.

"Why aren't you answering your phone? Do you know what it feels like to die of worry and then hear that your child has turned up with a gangster at his club? What did he do to you that you do things like that, get sucked into this world?" She asked in pain, and she remained silent, looking at her legs, feeling her whole body was shaking.

When she finally looked at her, what she said slipped out of her involuntarily.

"Then, during that holiday by the sea, before he lost his eye. We kissed. I was even his girlfriend for a while. He let me sleep in his bed when I was afraid of the dark." She muttered, feeling the tears of shame run down her face one by one.

Rhaenyra shook her head, looking at her as if she did not understand what she had just heard.

"It never ended between us, Mum. Quite the contrary. We sleep together. We are together." She sobbed out with difficulty, and her mother took her hand from hers, looking at her with wide eyes.

"What did he do to you, what did he put into your head to make you do such awful things? He is using you to show everyone that he has me and Daemon in his grasp. That he rules this city because neither I nor his grandfather can do anything to him now. He brags about you like a trophy. Good God, this is not how I raised you." She said in a quivering voice full of regret and disappointment, from which her heart broke.

She pressed her lips together, playing with the bracelet on her wrist in a nervous gesture, seeing a scar beneath it, his two faces, two parts of his love.

Light and Darkness.

Kora and Persephone.

Her mother had to come to terms with the fact that from now on she would spend part of the year in Hades.

She drew in air loudly, whooping with tears, not knowing what to say.

The words he loves me sounded so cheesy and naïve.

"I love him, Mom. I want to stay by his side."

Her mother shook her head, as if her words had made something inside her snap.

"He will destroy you. He'll drown you in his own greed like tar. He's already done it. He manipulated you into leaving us, your own family."

"It was my decision." She said in pain, feeling her heart pounding like mad, her breath heavy and ragged.

"You have completely lost your mind." She said coldly, rising from her seat, making her freeze all over, feeling a squeeze in her throat. "The door to your home will always remain open for you when your common sense returns. You are an adult and sooner or later you will feel the consequences of your choice. You will never be safe again, you will never be able to go anywhere alone, he will create a cage for you, just like…"

"… just like the one Daemon created for us? I've managed to get used to it. I, at least, don't pretend to be free." She growled, surprised by her own words.

Her mother pressed her lips together in pain and walked out, leaving her with a complete emptiness in her mind.

She felt awful – as she walked out, she felt the sun hit her hard, her face flooded with tears. Her uncle approached her quickly, horror and concern on his face.

"– what did she say? – no, no, calm down – calm down, shhh, come here –" He muttered as she went into a state of complete panic, covering her face with her hands, bursting into such a strong sob that she felt like she was about to spit out her own lungs.

She was unable to control herself or calm down, everything around her seemed to be spinning, his warm hands and arms cradling her was the only thing that kept her from falling to her knees.

You will never be safe again.

You will never be able to go anywhere alone again.

He will create a cage for you.

But wasn't that the life she had lived for as long as she could remember?

Her father, Daemon, her uncle.

She was never free.

She just didn't realise it as a child.

That night they only embraced, but there was something beautiful about it: the thought that he knew she didn't want sex now, but his closeness and tenderness, his broad hands stroking her back and hair, his full lips kissing again and again her forehead and nose.

"When I live with you, will I be able to go out alone?" She asked quietly, and he swallowed hard, running his fingers down her back, surprised by her question.

"Well… it depends where and during what time of day." He said uncertainly, tense.

She pressed her hands tighter against his warm skin – it was so hot he was only wearing black tracksuit bottoms.

"To the shop. To the bookshop. To class." She whispered, his lips placing another warm kiss on her forehead, clearly wanting to soften what was about to leave his throat.

"I'm constantly being watched. People who don't wish me well probably already know that you're not just a chick I fuck. You are my weakness and if I lose my guard, they will try to take advantage of that. I would prefer to keep the risk that something could happen to you to a complete minimum." He explained hesitantly, brushing his fingertips against her collarbone.

"So no." She said regretfully, feeling an unpleasant chokehold in her throat at the thought that she had escaped from one cage only to be locked in another.

She heard him sigh as he lifted her chin with his finger so that she looked at him.

"If something were to happen to you because of me. How would I explain it to your mother? To Daemon? How would I continue to live with it? We can go to your classes together. You can be driven to the shop and other places by my people, who will just wait for you in the car and not bother you. We will work something out. You are not my prisoner, but I have to keep you safe in some way. Do you understand me?" He asked, and she looked at him.

"Are you going to check my phone?"

"No."

"How can I be sure?"

"I trust you."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, his fingers tracing gently across her cheek making her feel a pleasant shiver run down her spine.

"I want you to take me with you when you run your errands."

"Absolutely not." He replied immediately, his face curved in an expression full of annoyance and frustration.

"Why? You did it last time." She muttered in pain, feeling rejected, like a small child who could not be trusted with an adult task.

"It was a mistake. I exposed you." He said regretfully, his thumb running over the line of her jaw. "It will never happen again."

"So you're going to come back in the morning to fuck me, have breakfast, go for a walk with Vhagar, sleep off, and then disappear again, leaving me alone?" She asked with despair, unsure if she could bear what he asked of her.

She saw him press his lips together, horrified at how it sounded from her mouth, certainly simply not knowing what to say.

"What do you expect from me?" He asked quietly. She was silent for a moment, feeling the quick pounding of her heart.

"Honesty. If I have to endure this in silence, I want to know what's going on. I want you to tell me what's happening in your clubs and pubs, what problems you're having, what you're facing, who you're seeing. Because if you can't give me either honesty, freedom or choice, then there's no hope for us."

"Would you leave otherwise?" He asked, looking at her with his eyebrows arched in pain, stroking her warm cheek with his palm.

"If you had locked me away, told me nothing and treated me as your consolation prize after a hard day? What would you do if I made you sit in my flat, while I met with Robb? You would certainly be a happy, fulfilled man then." She said coldly, making him swallow hard, lowering his gaze in shame.

"In that case, I'll tell you everything." He whispered.

She shook her head and grinned under her breath, feeling tears under her eyelids.

"You know what the worst thing is? That I don't believe you."

He looked at her, his eyes big and filled with suffering, as if something in those words of hers had hurt him particularly badly.

"I'm trying."

She felt her heart squeeze at his words, which were so simple, so direct.

So sincere.

Because, after all, she knew they were true.

"I know."

He licked his lower lip and drew in air, as if he was thinking very hard about what he wanted to say, as if he was afraid he wouldn't be able to describe it properly.

"I get the feeling that whatever I do – no matter how hard I try – it's not enough for you. You always want more. As if it were that simple. To protect you at the same time, to meet all your needs, to not come into conflict with Daemon and to be a good student. I stand caught between dozens of things and get lost in it. The right choice in one context is the wrong one in another. I don't know what to do to please you anymore." He confessed in a trembling voice filled with regret, sadness and fatigue, from which she felt ashamed.

While her feelings and thoughts were valid, she realised on hearing his words that she had put an enormous amount of pressure on him without even thinking about how he would be able to bring all these things together and at the same time make their world not fall apart.

"You're right. I'm sorry." She whispered, his eyes growing wide in surprise, as if he hadn't expected to hear that from her. "I know how hard you're trying. I'm proud of you and I love you more than ever before. The reason I have a lot of concerns is because I realise how difficult our situation is. I just want us to succeed."

"I want us to succeed too." He muttered. "It's the only thing I want. But please, baby, try to understand me."

There was something sweet and natural about the way their bodies snuggled into each other and embraced, wanting to comfort and soothe each other, to give them the feeling that they were trying to find their way together.

She decided that there was no turning back for her now.

Parting from him would mean that she would always be dying in agony.

When their work ended, their professor thanked and congratulated them all, telling them that all the objects they found would be exhibited in the castle museum after conservation.

Her fiancé was tired, but also happy: after just a few days there he was able to work independently, knew the procedures and was able to find his way in this rather chaotic world.

The oldest thing he found were the remains of a beautiful medieval steel dagger, of which he even took a photo as a souvenir.

She thought fondly that their childhood play had turned into a passion.

They were both excited at the thought of her moving into his apartment. It was in the city centre in a very nice, modern high-rise building and was surprisingly large.

When she stepped inside, she noticed a huge space stretching out in front of her: the gigantic living room was decorated with nice modern dark wood furnitures. A big sofa, bookshelves and a TV was practically all that was there – one of the walls was composed of only windows, making the whole room seem incredibly bright.

Adjacent to the living room was the kitchen on one side, while on the other stretched a small corridor leading to other rooms and the bathroom.

"Where is Vhagar?" She asked, not seeing her or her bedding. Her uncle looked at her surprised, placing their bags on the floor.

"At Helaena's. She took care of her while we were away. She'll bring her back tonight." He explained and nodded for her to follow him.

He opened one of the rooms in front of her, which looked like a gym and storage for things that didn't fit in the other rooms.

"It can be your room. So you can run away from me when you want and all that. I'll organise a gym in the basement, it's quite spacious." He hummed, running his hand over her back. She looked up at him and nodded.

"I've ordered a removal team for your house. They should bring everything tomorrow if they don't encounter any difficulties." He said, heading towards the kitchen. "I don't have anything to eat. We have to go shopping."

They spent the rest of the day lazily – they cooked the simplest spaghetti and ate it while watching TV – there was a programme on ancient Egyptian history that was airing at the time, which piqued their interest, so they just spread out on the sofa with their bowls and listened to a lecture by one of Egypt's most famous archaeologists as he spoke about the pyramid at Giza.

It was so wonderfully normal.

She felt uncomfortable when Helaena brought Vhagar – she didn't know where to look, thinking with shame that she must have thought she was a complete idiot after trying to take her own life by living with the man who did this to her in the first place.

"Are you two together?" She asked softly, and her brother nodded.

"I'm glad. Take care of each other." She said, and she felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that she was the first person to wish them well.

Her uncle looked at her, a gentle smile on his face that made her hot.

Hades and Persephone.

"We will."

_____

Author's note: My husband often asks me when we argue what I expect from him and describes his feelings about how the situation looks from his perspective. He doesn't do it maliciously, and it helps me understand that sometimes I really want something different than what I say and that there is often a lot of truth in his words. I didn't know for a long time how to lead the conversation between Aemond and Rhaenys at the very end when they talk about their future and difficult topics and it turned out that the best scripts are written by life, lol.

[rin-solo]

This came to me earlier, and now I am utterly obsessed: While it was clear to me that Odysseus stabbing Poseidon wasn't any kind of Vengeance, there was one act of Vengeance after all, even if inadvertent—it was Odysseus disproving Poseidon's "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves" belief right in front of his very eyes. With him as the subject, even.

Think about it—the fact that Poseidon remained ruthless and insisted on punishing Odysseus was the only reason he got stabbed repeatedly. If Poseidon had been merciful, if he had accepted Odysseus' offer of forgiveness, he would've been fine. His own ruthlessness backfired so hard on him this time that I am sincerely hoping it haunts him forever.

I am actually utterly obsessed with Poseidon thinking back to Odysseus "Maybe you could learn to forgive?" on a daily, no an hourly basis. I cannot and will not lie to you that is unironically my favorite moment in the whole Vengeance saga just because of what it says about both the characters—about Odysseus for offering and Poseidon for declining (and also because Odysseus sings it in Poseidon's own motif which is just absolutely brilliant.) And this makes me love it even more.

Poseidon was going to decline, we all know that. I don't think anyone watching—even Odysseus, probably—expected him to accept. But then I'm picturing him lying there, bleeding into the stone, and, against his will, wondering whether maybe he should have. Maybe if he had, he wouldn't be in pain. Maybe if he had not killed Odysseus' fleet ten years ago, he wouldn't be in pain either. Maybe this one time ruthlessness wasn't mercy upon himself—maybe this time, his one grand belief was wrong. Maybe ... it was always wrong.

Obviously, he would never admit to these thoughts, he would slap himself for having them one second later. But I simply need this self-proclaimed god of ruthlessness to be utterly haunted by that and question whether he made the right choice or no—whether he's even lived by the correct philosophy all his immortal life—and no matter what, be too stubborn to admit he was wrong.

He's trying to pretend like nothing changed, but the thoughts still remain. They pester him. They won't leave him alone. Especially every time someone—anyone—is kind to him for whatever reason, they come crashing back into him and they won't leave.

"What if my own ruthlessness hurt me that time?"

"What if ruthlessness isn't mercy upon ourselves after all?"

"What if I'm wrong?"

"What if I have always been wrong?"

The most dreadful thoughts imaginable to a god as proud and stubborn and old as Poseidon, but they're there now and he can't do anything about them. You all don't understand how much I NEED this god to jolt up in his bed at 3 am after having a dream or nightmare about something related to one of his many ruthless deeds (maybe even sinking Odysseus' fleet) and go "BUT WHAT IF I HAD LEARNED TO FORGIVE?? WHAT IF I STILL COULD??" only to immediately slap himself for it because that's absolutely ridiculous.

He is left to watch this belief shatter before his very eyes as he's clinging to the remains of it desperately, trying to keep it all from crumbling. Not because he genuinely believes he's right anymore, but because he simply cannot imagine ... does not know how to live by any other philosophy.

No matter whether it's objectively correct or not, it's the very thing that defines him. The thing he's known for. He has built his entire image around this, he cannot give it up no matter what ... at least not quickly or without help.

But as much he would seek to deny it, his core belief has now been proven wrong; he has actually lived through an instance where it was wrong, and he can do nothing to erase those memories or conclusions from his mind no matter how much he yearns to go back to simpler times.

And that was the real Vengeance, guys—possibly the biggest, most painful existential crisis of Poseidon's immortal life. I rest my case.

Although before I disappear back into the void I simply must give a shout out to @o3o-lapd-o3o (this came to me during a conversation in one of their comment sections for the glorious Friends In Higher Places AU, which is quite possibly my favorite piece of EPIC fan content that exists ...)

[celestie0]

MASSIVE gojo x reader fanfic rec (no spoilers)

ok i know a lot of my followers are gojo girlies and i just need to put yall onto this fucking fanfiction because i just read the latest release for it and i’m genuinely tweaking rn🧍🏻‍♀️

@lostfracturess ‘s amazing work called “symptoms & causes” - a medical au

[image pulled from her masterlist]

let me just…let me just try to even gather the reasons why you need to add this to your tbr lists (weekend is comin up too so perfect time)

characterization of gojo satoru.

gojo in this fic is characterized so fucking well, from chapter one. there are so many distinctive ways miss lostfractures goes about building his aura (word of mouth/reputation, dialogue, expository, primary interactions, secondary interactions, etc.) it reminds me of the show where gojo just has this energy to him that you can't tear yourself away from i picture him in this fic to be unrelenting, unforgiving, morally grey, with an undertone of softness yet still feral through it all,, basically gojo during shibuya arc LOL. i looove reading cute silly boy gojo fics sm (he’s so baby) but THIS fic explores the borderline wicked side of him that is so thrilling, unique, and rare to find i think in this fandom’s collection of works. it’s just so fucking good.

forbidden romance.

UGGHH i love stories w forbidden romance. in this one, it’s med student reader x professor gojo (additional power dynamics in that he’s a senior surgeon in her field and also a research mentor in her study of interest…TRIPLE THREAT DAMN). i love how miss lostfractures doesn’t shy away from reminding the reader that it’s wrong, and that they shouldn’t be doing this. that’s my fave part of forbidden romances like yesss remind me again why this is all so wrong but let’s still do it anyways LOL <333

reader’s voice.

i’ve LOVED reader since the beginning, so relatable, emotionally mature, all her flaws are so believable & her strengths are shown seamlessly. it’s just so much fun to read because i’ll literally have a thought like “hmm…that (something a character said/did) doesn’t sound very convincing” and then the next line will be something like “he didn’t sound very convincing” like!!! me and s&c reader?? we’re locked in like this fr🤞🏼 like gojo’s domain expansion fingers

escapism.

everything in this story feels so damn real it’s insane. the pacing is stunning, love the utilization of stacks of scenes that are sort of short but so concise, enough to be a smooth read but still descriptive enough to entirely transport you into the world that’s being built. cannot praise the writing in this story enough. also the variety of ways that scenarios are made that pull characters closer to one another?? so creative. as someone who works in a research lab, studied bio in college (some of the fkn biochem stuff that comes up in this fic gives me heart attacks lmfaooo pls im traumatized), and has worked in clinics/hospitals it just itches my brain so damn good. you’ll be convinced you’re a brilliant med student while you read this fic.

writing.

the writing is just. so. good. it’s so good. better than most PUBLISHED works i’ve read. i really can't say much other than that, you just have to go see for yourself.

—

if any of these reasons speak to you, i highly recommend you check the fic out. just a note tho it does have some dark themes but you can find all the tags/warnings on her page!

OK BYE

[spyeriasecret]

and now it's time to play WOULD GRAVITY FALLS CHARACTERS RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS (pre-weirdmageddon) (non gravity falls fans take this as a sign.)

DIPPER PINES - not sure he'd understand the concept immediately, but would catch on quick because he understands what it's like not being called something you want to be called

MABEL PINES - YES. no question about it. there's so many things i could say here. she'd correct herself for THINKING the wrong pronouns.

STANLEY PINES - understands and correctly genders you for all the wrong, crime-related reasons! bro is the king of preferred names. you say "hey i'm actually exam/ple" and he'll be like "AH. I GET IT. WINK. DO YOU ALSO WANT TO BE NOTIFIED WHEN THE COPS ARE IN TOWN" like i cant overstate this. if you say hey i want to change my identity he will pull out a stack of fake IDs and have you pick one. he's a little confused but he got the spirit!

STANFORD PINES - if you ever need a guy to not grasp a modern-day concept, call this guy! he'd do his best, but only because he wants to be nice. he does Not understand. give him a little bit of systematic exposure and he'll get it! he will take a scientific approach! but he'll get it! somebody get this man 2024ccs of woke liberalism stat

SOOS RAMIREZ - calls you dude and bro. does not call you anything but dude and bro. he knows what you are and he respects that! but let's be real honest here.

WENDY CORDUROY - incredibly supportive and super chill. if you were still in the closet, she'd do the mouth zip motion thing. you get it. she's so awesome about you

WADDLES - oink?

GIDEON GLEEFUL - yes to your face! no behind closed doors. he'd probably call you "that queer" while villain monologuing in his room . i can hear it in his voice

BUD GLEEFUL - THE gravity falls homophobic youth pastor let's be for real he'd say "it's not too late to turn to God" as a christian trans person i'm pretty sure God thinks about lgbtq+ kids and fraudulent capitalists on two separate ends of a very long line

SHERIFF BLUBS & DEPUTY DURLAND - do i even have to say it. i'm gonna say it. solid top and DEAD SERIOUS bottom. they ARE the loud and proud gravity falls lgbtq+ community. if they're transphobic i'll eat my socks.

CANDY CHIU - i know what you guys are thinking . "oh candy's so sweet of course she'd respect your pronouns!" CANDY MOTHERFUCKING CHIU WILL NOT ONLY RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS, BUT SHE WILL GO OUT OF HER WAY TO USE THEM AT ANY POSSIBLE MOMENT. if she sees somewhere to say your pronouns, she will DO it. because she LOVES YOU. and also she'd fight anyone who gets it wrong!

GRENDA GRENDINATOR - trans. she loves you. will help candy fight anybody who gets your pronouns wrong.

FIDDLEFORD MCGUCKET - honestly this is a hard one. he could ACKNOWLEDGE! your pronouns! but other than that i'm not sure. pre-memory wipe, i think he'd feel a little weird about it, but it would become nothing to him eventually

PACIFICA NORTHWEST - "ew. what the fuck." and then suddenly she's asking you how you figured that out. For No Reason

ROBBIE VALENTINO - calls you a faggot. is it because he is homophobic? because he is one? because he hates you specifically? the world will never know

BLENDIN BLANDIN - he lives in the year 207̃012. i find it hard to believe they haven't made respecting pronouns mandatory yet.

AGENTS POWERS & TRIGGER - are the pronouns on your legal documents????? it's not funny stop laughign

TYLER CUTEBIKER - gay. his pronouns are get/it. he will respect you (in his own ways)

LAZY SUSAN - forgets you had the wrong pronouns in the first place. she respects you by default

TIME BABY - does not refer to you

BILL CIPHER - he would call you your preferred pronouns but DON'T get it twisted. he does not respect you as a living thing. it isn't bigoted (that would be ironic considering that whole sixer thing) he just doesn't. maybe he'd make HEAVY fun of you for good measure but he's got to dig at somebody somehow. also were pronouns even real in his dimension anything could happen man ????

SHMEBULOCK - shmebulock

(did i forget anybody? let me know)