#I feel ashamed that I didn't know this existed

[impactrueno]

Do you ship beetlebabes?

anon you're one of the three people i woke up to this morning asking if i ship beetlebabes LMAO. so i guess i better address it as thoroughly as i can.

shortest answer i can give you: no. but there's a lot more to it than just that. please read on

as long as it's not kid lydia, i don't care. i'm perfectly at peace with the ship and accept it as an integral part of the fandom (i'll get to that in a second) because this isn't like other ships of its kind. there's a small sector of the shipper side of the fandom that's cuckoo bananas and i don't fuck with that but that's more about those shippers in particular and not the ship itself. and yes, i'm okay with you reblogging my art and tagging it as "beetlebabes" on your blog for your own organization purposes.

i've been lurking the beetlejuice fandom for like 20 years now, so the ship doesn't faze me in the least. especially since i shipped them myself when i was younger, and this isn't a secret or anything i'm ashamed about, because i just never thought that deeply about it back then you know?? i just knew i enjoyed their dynamic in the cartoon a lot. and i'm pretty sure this is the case for most veteran beetlejuice fans because back then 90% of the fan content was beetlebabes. the ship pretty much carried the fandom all throughout the 90s and the 2000s, and the bulk of these shippers was always goth/goth-adjacent women into gothic romances who had crushes on BJ and projected onto lydia. NOT pedophiles or groomers or anything of the sort (and i need to reiterate this every time this stuff comes up because it's really important: do not ever judge whether or not someone is a groomer based only on what they ship because that's only going to put you at risk of being groomed by a "non-problematic" shipper. a groomer can use anything to groom you, even if you're not a minor. please always stay alert no matter what circles you're in. sorry for the PSA i've just seen some stuff and i worry)

the shift in the demographics of the fandom happened when the musical came out in 2019, which brought in a new beetlejuice canon with TONS of new fans who were more attuned to what makes a ship creepy and inappropriate (again, literally no one ever thought about this stuff before the 2010s.) so obviously this new wave of fans were horrified that the ship even existed in the first place. this created a pretty big split in the fandom between shippers and non-shippers. i've been referring to the topic as a hornets nest ever since and it's the reason why i largely keep to myself in my own little corner of the fandom.

as for my feelings about the ship...that shifted a lot through the years. shipped them, then i didn't. then i thought about them again, then i was like nah. eventually i realized that i'm very picky and particular about them and i was never going to feel at home on either side of the fandom so i had to figure out what kind of content i wanted to see, how i see their relationship and if i could create something with that myself since it seemed like no one else was doing it.

so here i am now. the stuff i'm making right now with adult lydia and beej from the cartoon is intended to be "platonic soulmates" since this is what i found to be the closest thing to what i always wanted to see more of, i find it comforting and beautiful and tragically underrated. people are free to interpret it however they wish though, as long as they don't expect me to meet their expectations, because i'll be doing my own thing regardless. i'm not stupid though, i know i managed to put them in a position where they probably could organically develop feelings for each other, and people are inevitably going to be drawn to that potential. so i can't blame the people commenting with "when will they kiss, i hope they get married, etc," i just hope they don't feel to disappointed to learn that i have no plans to explore that far lol (if that's all you were here for then uhhh sorry i guess)

if i ever choose to make something that is actually beetlebabes, i would tag it as such so people know and so people who don't want to see it can block it. maybe i'd even give ample warning beforehand because i wouldn't want to spring that on my followers who are uncomfortable with the ship out of the blue like that.

if you've read my beetleposts you probably already know that i like character studies and analyzing their dynamics, so i don't mind discussing the ship and how or why i think things would be one way or the other. perhaps i'm a bit too lax about it for some people, because i've been asked to tag a couple of analyses that seemingly dipped into beetlebabes territory without me even noticing. that made me realize that what qualifies as beetlebabes varies from person to person, which makes "do you ship beetlebabes" even harder to answer, because people see what they want to see in art. you can ask my non-shipper followers and most will say they don't see anything romantic in my art, but then you ask the shippers and it can be the total opposite. just as everyone does when they watch the source material.

so in conclusion

i don't ship them (any of the canon iterations) romantically but i'm chill with the whole thing as long as people aren't rude to each other in my comments (or to me for that matter) because i'm frankly way too old to give a fuck about these things or all the proship/anti/whatever nonsense

[furiousgoldfish]

Existence in abuse is riddled with constant guilt and shame – and this is not by accident. All abusers put effort into convincing their victims they deserved it, to prevent resistance, and make them 'ashamed for deserving it', to prevent the word from getting out. If abusers can pinpoint one bad thing you did in your entire life, they will repeat it back to you consistently, amplifying how guilty and ashamed you need to feel about it.

Lacking anything concrete, they will shame you for everyday, small things, and depict them as malevolent crimes. You will hear about how selfish you are, for failing to put someone else's feelings first and even for wanting to do one little thing for yourself, after taking care of everyone else's feelings. You'll hear about how spoiled and inconsiderate you are, if you voice your struggles or problems, when abuser expected of you to only give attention to them. If you dare to call the abuser out in return, the focus will be put on you with so much fury, leading you to find out that this person is enraged by every single thing you ever did. They'll accuse you of not even knowing how much damage you did to them, what they sacrificed for you, what you owe them, what you already took from them (they list something they did without you asking for it).

The repeated treatment of being told off and shamed even for acting in the most normal, or empathetic ways, will lead you to question yourself, your intention, if this is all justified. You'll analyze past situation to see if you could have done better, blaming and shaming yourself for 'mistakes' your abusers are throwing back at your face, when you either didn't know they were bad, or had the kindest intentions in doing as you did. Your own actions will become scrutinized and you will wonder if you in fact, do deserve punishment and hostility for anything you ever did. Even when your standards rise and your behaviour becomes as kind and considerate as possible, it will turn out it's never enough. You're always guilty of something, you must always feel ashamed. You're ignored and neglected and then told off for not paying enough attention to them, you're working all day to please them only to be made feel stupid for thinking this would in fact, please them. You become helpless and desperate for any confirmation that you're a good person, because no matter what you do, it's never good enough, it's always shamed and ostracized.

I remember living in this soup of toxic shame and guilt, too scared to take credit for anything I did, because 'then I only did to get credit', too scared to feel good about anything good I did, because then I did it 'only for the sake of feeling good about myself'. I couldn't win. The abusers around me amplified what a horrible person I was, until I gave in and believed it. After all, if every person around me is confident that I am a wretched monster, then how could I be anything else? I can't be the only one who is right, and all of them wrong. They wouldn't be saying it for no reason, and why would they lie to me. These people love me. They're saying it for my own sake. They're doing it so I would have a chance to become better.

This is how they prefer you to think; you must stay focused on your own faults, and boil in shame until you're too scared of doing anything, and refuse credit for things you do, so someone else can take it. There's one very convenient feature to this brainwashing; you are not allowed to focus on what anyone else is doing.

You can't be scrutinizing your abuser's actions, or comparing them to your own, because that will make them mad, and they'll explode calling you derisive and insulting names, and you will get triggered and crushed. You can't point out their hypocrisy when they're apparently 'trying to make you a better person', when they themselves are not even trying to be good, because again, this makes them mad, and is too dangerous for you. You have to focus on yourself while also putting yourself in a world where nobody else's actions are scrutanizable or accountable, only you need to be perfect, only you need to be guilty and ashamed of everything you do; everyone else can do whatever, and you better pretend you didn't see it. Phrases like 'look at yourself before you look at others' might be thrown at you to make you ashamed for even looking at other people's actions critically.

I too was afraid to compare myself to others people, constantly keeping in mind the regular excuses. 'These people had it rough, they have reasons for doing what they did, they're struggling with guilt too and would be crushed if it was ever pointed out to them what damage they're doing, they don't know how much hurt they're causing, they were never taught better, I can't judge, I can't hold them accountable. They wouldn't be able to stand it'.

All of these excuses, of course, were not applicable to me; I had to know what I was doing, I had to take responsibility for everything I did or didn't do, I had to be strong enough to withstand the guilt and shame, but others could live instantly absolved and asking them to feel guilty was just too cruel.

I wasn't able to escape this worldview while I lived with abusers, because the constant stream of guilt trips and shaming was pushing me back, but once I escaped, I allowed myself to take a look at how other people live, what they do and say, and what they feel ashamed for. To my surprise, even the slightest scrutiny revealed that people I lived around did numerous crimes to their own children, neighbours, to the world in general, they felt comfortable lying, manipulating, using, exploiting and gaslighting others; they felt justified to invent any kind of story that shows them in a good light while hiding atrocious amount of cruelty and lies. If I was to do any kind of comparison, it became obvious that by any moral standards – I was better than all of these people. Easily. I never did any of that shit, and considered other people's well being meticulously before deciding on my every move. For all of them, other people's well being wasn't even an afterthought, it was something they actively attacked and mutilated. As long as they could get away with it, as long as no consequences followed.

Finding this out, I was mortified to know that these were the people who had the nerve to shame me for my behaviour. People who never cared about anyone in their entire life said to my face that I was selfish and inconsiderate for not caring about them enough. Outrageous. People who reached for violence to get their way were getting mad at me for not guessing what would please them good enough on a certain day. What inverted hell is that.

After a lot of anger and objective scrutiny of actions of people I lived with, I was able to conclude that I lived with garbage. These folks has no humanity in them, they were only parasites, and they had me thinking I was somehow worse than all of them, and that my normal and humane actions were in fact, worse than their cruelest crimes. That is one skill that all abusers train themselves in; making other people feel worse about themselves. It's a tactic of abuse that often comes so aggressively that people become too shocked and scared to counter it, it takes an abnormally cruel and self-justified person to reach for it. They consistently get away with it. People will learn they're not allowed to think badly of them, before they even get to judge or scrutinize their behaviour.

While you're living with abusers, some of their suspicious actions and evasive tactics will not make any sense; so write it down, and remember it for later. Once you find out what they've been up to, what they were trying to get away with, what they've been lying about, what they were doing in secret – you will become able to see both them and yourself more clearly. Yes they can confidently lie to you about who you are, not because they think they're right, but because they're trying to convince you of it. If they truly thought you were the worst of them, you'd be celebrated.

[sha-brytols]

acknowledging justice as inherently part of anders makes me mentally ill in the sense that this is justice when he has emotional mortal autonomy and the implications of that with romanced hawke are insane. in awakening he was incredibly conflicted with kristoff's love for aura being a part of who he now is and then being disgusted with himself because those aren't his feelings and that's not his wife and he hates how he can't separate those feelings not just because of the inherent violation of kristoff's memory but because he is now aware of what it means to love and be loved knowing full well that he will never feel that for himself as a Person.

and then that just naturally lends to the belief that this was probably a factor with karl too where anders might have been in this liminal space of being in love with someone he's known for years but also simultaneously aware that these feelings predate his current existence and are they Actually even real or are they just remnants of a man who no longer even exists. karl didn't even know anders was possessed like anders kept this from him. was he ashamed? did he think it's unfair to karl to be involved with him when he's not even the same man karl fell in love with?

but. then he meets hawke and it's the first time ever that he's felt love in a way that he KNOWS is entirely his and that is such an insane thought. to constantly question your own reality and then suddenly have something that is so uniquely yours that it validates your individuality in the way that he can say i love hawke and it's real and it's me and it's mine. i think with this in mind it suddenly puts how fast he fell for them in perspective because if you think about it this is straight up his first love. not just in the traditional sense but also in the sense that this is the first time his heart belongs to him. which i think also explains his desperation to be with hawke and the weird possessiveness he has in the sense that this isn't just a guy with an unrequited crush, this is also a spirit whose personhood is almost Dependent on the love that hawke makes him feel. what if i explode

[l0ganberry]

Hi! Can you draw Shag Rugg from The Hillbilly Bears? Please.

Yeah!!

[irafuwas]

i don't know why, but in the sparse five hours of sleep i got last night, my brain decided to plague me with dreams of lilia taking care of an elderly silver, up until the final moments of his life. i could hear silver's thoughts the whole time, and he was so absolutely inundated with shame and guilt it almost seemed like he was suffocating. he kept thinking over and over and over again that this all should've been the other way around. he should've been the one looking after his father in the twilight of his life. he should've been his aging father's rock, his safe place to land, his stalwart defender against a world so unbelievably cruel to its most vulnerable denizens. again and again his heart cried out in vain, it should've been the other way around.

as a child he had once wished - prayed, even, to the same force now threatening to reclaim his spirit back into its unconscious designs - for his father to live a long and prosperous life, and it was as though that very wish had backfired on him in a way he never could have possibly imagined

[stabbylambchop]

Hey uh

anyone here on Art Fight this year or-

Cuz I'm on there, same name and everything. I'm on Team Vampires.

You can like, add me or whatever...I mean, if you want...

I haven't interacted with anyone on here or even really drawn in a couple months, sweet pulsating spider-christ ...

[sweetiepie324]

How is it possible that some of the kids doesn't even know who hello kitty is >:(

[ridingthatd]

the way choso/sukuna would definitely say those exact same words, have the same exact look on their eyes as theu fingers your pussy with their long, thick fingers for the first time, as their thumb stroke your sensitive clit, pinch it. their eyes lustfuly watching the way wetness gush out your tight little pussy.

"it's so warm, so good i want it around my cock". "does this feel good? where? here?". "more more i want to hear more of your sounds". "is every human this sensitive or is it just your pretty little pussy?".

their eyes widen as soon as your back arch, and thighs tremble as you squirt out with a scream, hot stream leaving your pussy and spilling on their face- they whimper once they feels the hot liquid, opening their mouth wide, drinking in the hot liquid that kept gushing out, your body shakes- you cry ashamed and turned on by what's happening.

your stream kept going- making their eyes roll back into their skull and cumming undone on your bed sheets, locking their mouth into your tiny pee opening just below your clit, drinking in every last drop.

you lay down twitching every once in awhile as their hot breath lands on your pussy, you wanted to die from how embarrassed you felt- ashamed that you had peed, squirt on them.

"one more please?" they whispers into your pussy giving it kitten licks, staring at you.

we all write about how sukuna wouldn't be a virgin but if we think about it, sukuna definitely wouldn't be sexually active especially, or at least he wouldn't know yet about all the filthy kinks that exist now but it didn't exist at his time so ;3

[thedykeparade]

I know for a lot of people the relationship between Elphaba and Fiyero feels rushed and underdeveloped, but, I don't know, I happen to like the fact that she had such a strong impact on his life in such a short amount of time... like, yes! of course she altered his brain chemistry and whole philosophy of life after a grand total of 3 encounters, she really is THAT girl (I just realized what I did there as soon as I finished typing it, I swear the pun was not intended).

I think they gravitated towards each other because they were exactly what the other needed in their lives.

In the beginning Fiyero was a person that felt comfortable reducing his entire existence and purpose to just being a "hot prince with a scandalacious reputation". But then he meets Elphaba, and she is different than anyone else he'd ever met in all those schools he went to, in more ways than one. She is Not Impressed by his looks or his title. She challenges him because she's able to look past his "nothing matters" bullshit and see that he's actually a really kind, caring person. She looks at him like she knows that he can do better, be better ("no matter how shallow and self-absorbed you pretend to be..."). She inspired him to become the best version of himself.

Fiyero needed that, someone to push him to take control of his life and act upon his wants and beliefs. Without Elphaba he would've had a content but unfulfilled life.

And Elphaba needed someone to stand by her, to not leave her alone, to not be ashamed of her, to fight for her, to prioritize her, and to love her unapologetically. That person is Fiyero (and yes, Glinda could've been that person too, but ultimately she made her choice, and by the time she realized she chose wrong it was already too late).

Elphaba spent her whole life feeling unwanted. She needed someone that would spend years looking for her!!! Someone that would risk everything for her!!! Fiyero did that!!! That man was devoted!!! And that's exactly what she deserved!!!

She was alone her whole life until Glinda (except for Nessa, I guess, but even in that relationship Elphaba was always the one that had to take care of her sister), and she is so strong, but in the end she didn't have to be alone anymore, and she didn't have to be strong, she could just let herself be held and loved, and I love that for her 😭❤️

In conclusion: fiyeraba they could never make me hate you

[euniexenoblade]

tl;dr version: a very frequent and more recent flavor of trans exclusionism, transmisogyny, and transphobia at large has started to bubble up as an overpowering, overwhelming (and fake) acceptance of gnc cis people.

The actual long version:

Trans people, especially trans women, when they want to come out or explore their gender are often met with loved ones, family, or friends telling them "you can just be gnc, you don't know you're actually trans, men can be feminine, you should try that before scary life changes" we often talk about how this is a move by abusive, transmisogynistic people in our lives, who pretend to to care about gnc people, but in reality it's just transphobia manifesting as a false support. They often manipulate trans people into not pursuing transition and then lay on all the manipulation to convince us we were so silly to think we're trans afterwards.

Though there's a lot of people who still see it as honest support for the gnc, most of us are pretty clear that it's transphobic. But, another way this takes form is from other trans people, there are a lot of trans people with internalized transphobia who only view the existence negatively and when you talk about people potentially being trans, you activate their rapid internalized self hate: how can you say that? You can't know someone else's gender! You're forcing them to be trans! Men can be gnc! You're actually the transphobic one!

You also see it take form as things like "egg prime directive." "You can't tell the egg they might be trans!!!" Yes, you can. And you probably should. Trans people are not some mythical once in a blue moon thing. We are everywhere. There's lots of us. Being trans is not a bad thing, it's simply just a thing. Acting like you can't tell people they're trans is treating trans people like we're dirty secrets, a thing to be ashamed of, you're treating it like an insult. The truth of the matter is, telling someone they're exhibiting things associated with trans people can help speed up the process, less dysphoria to agonize over, less confusion as to what's going on, you can help kickstart a path to happiness.

But these people don't. Cuz they don't *want* people to be trans, and very specifically don't want people to be transfem. I don't need to get into the polls that showed most transmascs think telling a friend they might be a trans woman is morally wrong, you've seen it already. I don't need to tell you about how a transfem mentioned a specific person in the media seemed transfem, just for people to harass them (idk pronouns) off the site, just for people to confirm that yes - the individual in the news was likely transfem. And with that realization didn't come an apology, didnt come a new understanding, the trans and "pro trans" harassers stuck to their guns "recognizing transhood in others the way you see it in yourself is the same as transvestigation, the right wing transphobic conspiracy theory!"

This topic has been talked about a lot this past year, with the egg joke discourse, people getting harassed and ran off the site for correctly mentioning someone seems transfem, the constant harassment and blog deletion of trans women, the onslaught of harassment from the transandrodorks and terfs, etc etc. but I feel like it never gets correctly classified as a form of exclusionism. We easily recognize truscum exclusionism as what it is: "youre nb? You don't try to pass? You don't shave? Lol fake trans" it's the blue hair with pronouns schtick. It's gatekeeping the community. But, in the same respect, the "you can't just say people are trans" "it's ok to be gnc!" anti egg joke types of people are just as exclusionary. One end it's "you aren't a true transexual" and the other is "be gnc instead, being trans is a bad thing."

It's the projection of internalized transphobia into a policy. You can't tell anyone they're trans because you don't see trans people as anyone, you see them as weird monsters. That's a really depressing form of exclusion, but exclusion all the same.

[kpoperotics]

A night with Yuna x male reader

Yuna, your affectionate girlfriend. She enjoys you in a way she can't even describe, it's just that it's her first time and she's a little insecure.

Yuna, your needy yet insecure girlfriend is cooking for you, cooking is one of her hobbies she loves the most. She's making dinner for you, a simple one, nothing fancy; yet she pours her heart in what she does.

You're in the bedroom, chilling out on your phone when you hear sounds coming from the kitchen, so you decide to get up and go to help her if she needed. Once you're in the kitchen you see her walking around the kitchen, grabbing whatever she needs to prepare the food while she sings softly.

"Hey, do you need help?" you ask

"OH!" she gasps suddenly

oh, my god y/n, you scared me.. please don't do it anymore..!

She sighs

"and yeah... I'd appreciate if you could help me my love"

You giggle, helping her cooking.

"you're kind for helping me.." she whispers softly

"just doing what I like, I like helping you sweetheart"

You both make food together, enjoying each other's company. Then, once the dinner is made you sit and eat. You two have quite a conversation that evening

"so, Yuna, have you done what I told you today?" you know already that she hasn't done anything you told her, but not common things like buying the milk.

"eum... I-I.. well.." she stammers "I-I..."

"you didn't, mh?" you say

She looks down. Feeling ashamed "no.. I didn't.." she whispers softly, her voice trembling and insecure

"I told you... everyday you wake up, you have to look in the mirror, stare directly into your eyes and repeat to yourself that you're worth everything, that you're loved and that you're making it through everything"

Yuna looks down in shame and sadness

"sorry.." she whispers

"don't say that" You decide to go next to her, you know how hard it is for her to do something like that and you're not going to give up on her that easily

"b-but I'm a disaster.. I can't even say a simple phrase"

You look directly in her eyes, yet your stare is soft and understanding. "Yuna..." You envelop her in your arms, a few tears roll down her cheeks

"No Yuna.. don't cry" you wipe away her tears with your thumb. "Here come with me" you grab her in your arms and carry her to the couch, you sit and she stays on top of you, sitting on your lap; with your arms wrapped around her.

She's not crying her heart out, she's just letting some tears go, the weight of her actual mental health weighing on her. "Yuna, you need to believe in yourself, just like I do, I do believe in you and you know it"

You kiss the top of her head softly, then, you look directly into her eyes. Her eyes are wet and a little swollen, making her look cuter than she usually looks

"look at this girl, it's so impossible to hate her"

She looks at you, then she looks away. She leans her ear on your heart, listening to your heartbeat. The sound soothes her aching soul as she sinks into a full state of calmness and relax

You let her hear your heart beating, knowing how much this affects her positively

"Can I ask you something, Yuna?"

"yes..?" she answers

"Have you ever thought about us?" you ask

"about... about us..? well yes, I did sometimes... why you ask?"

"just to know, you know that I often think about us, about you"

"and that's why I love you.." she say softly, leaning in, capturing your lips in a soft delicate peck

You cup her head kindly with your hands, holding her in place as you slowly deepen the kiss. In short time, the kiss is deepened, you both pouring your heart in it

Yuna snuggles her body into yours as you hold her head in such a loving way. The kiss keeps going, just that way, not deeper but not shallower. The love in the air is palpable, the affection you pour in her soul every single second of your existence healing her from inside. You softly break the kiss, looking at her, beautiful like always.

"I'm so in love with you.." she says

"and so am I, my love" you answer

It's like the time has stopped, you two look into each other's eyes while you're also holding her tiny form in your arms. But then you decide to act a little bolder and ask her "Yuna, what do you think.. are you ready to make love?"

She blushes furiously, not knowing what to say at first "n-now?"

"yea, now" you answer, caressing her hair

She looks at you, the most insecure, scared yet trustful gaze. She doesn't know what to say, if yes or no. She's never had it before. She's virgin, and the idea of having sex with you now scares her

"you're safe here, you know that? I'm not going to hurt you I know it's your first time".

She looks at you, insecure. She thinks for a while as you keep caressing her and hold her close to you, then she says "okay, I-I think I can do it.."

Her hands are shaking, you hold them and bring them to your chest, tranquilizing her.

"you're sure, mh?"

She nods softly, snuggling into you. She trusts you but she's scared "will it hurt?" she asks, "it may hurt at the first penetration"

She sighs softly in anxiety "it's okay, I'm ready to have this with you"

So after only a few seconds, you start taking off her clothes, slowly removing her bra with just a hand, allowing you to admire her tiny perfect breast.

"I'm starting, okay?"

"o-okay.." she trembles, but she knows you're not going to hurt her

You lean in and start kissing around her breast, your kisses are soft and delicate. She trembles more and she holds you tighter, she feels hot flashes as her traumas, insecurities and fears kicks in, but she doesn't want you to stop, she wants to overcome everything she's endured.

You keep going, now licking her nipples carefully. You feel her trembling and breathing quite heavily, but you keep going knowing she's fighting so good.

"You're doing so good Yuna" you say, she smiles at you.

"Keep.. I kinda like it though" she answer, and so you keep going. You lick her breast a little more, while your hands are starting to roam lower on her body.

She starts to breathe slightly heavier than usual, letting few really soft moans as you keep. She wraps her arms around your neck to pull you closer, you can tell she's quite liking this.

"I think I'm ready for more" Yuna says, her voice just above a whisper.

"Are you?" you answer.

"Yes, I am.." She says. So after she confirmed, you lie her down on the bed, making sure she's comfortable with you. You take your space between her legs, lying down on your belly and covering her thighs with your arms. You slowly and kindly start licking her folds and as you do that Yuna can't help but let out a surprised and aroused gasp. She's still where she is, too shy and embarrassed to do anything.

You take her hands in yours, making sure she feels safe besides the pleasure you know she's feeling. You keep licking her folds carefully and expertly, knowing well how to move since this isn't your first time.

Yuna moans and she tightens her grip on your hands while you give her all that pleasure. "Oh my goodness I feel something.." she whimpers, you know what she's feeling even if she doesn't

"You're coming Yuna, it's alright. You're cumming"

She looks at you, even if she can't focus at all and tries to speak something "a-am.. I.. am I what..?"

She doesn't even get to finish her sentence that her juices are all already on your tongue.

She trembles hardly and almost screams as she comes, it's the first time she feels so good, this good. She's amazed from her orgasm.

She looks at you amazed "W-wow.." you look back at her, "you liked it?"

"I loved it" she answers.

"c-can I try to... to suck your dick...?" she asks with a slight trembling voice

You chuckle and caress her softly "of course you can sweetheart".

So as you allow her, she shyly kneels down in front of you, taking off your pants with your underwear. You would have never said she was shy and bold in the same time.

She looks at it in awe, it's big and hard and even if it's her first time, she knows it's because of her. She gets closer to your shaft, looking at you with her soft eyes. "Don't be afraid, do it" you say, while stroking her head gently.

So after few seconds of her staring at it in awe, she parts her lips and takes it in her mouth, slowly, only the head first.

You watch her doing her best, and considering it's her first time, she's doing an esteemed job. She keeps going, slowly and taking more of you in her mouth. Taking her time, taking things slow; and you let her, you won't force anything.

Little by little she sucks you completely. She's now doing an admirable job, taking you deeper in her mouth. She bobs her head up and down on your shaft, making you let out a soft moan of pleasure. She's happy she's doing a great job on her first time, taking a little more of you with each bob.

"Yuna you're an absolute goddess, how can you be so talented and it's only your first time.." You moan, while she doesn't pull away from your cock, too content to do a blowjob to you like this. She bobs her head slightly faster now, her confidence growing more and more with each bob and second passing.

"Oh Yuna, yes so good.. keep going" you say, caressing her head and encouraging her to do more again. She takes a short break, maybe a second or 2 before getting back on your length.

As she resumes her blowjob, she goes a little deeper, not much, but enough to almost push you over the edge.

"Yuna, I'm close, get ready for it.." you whimper.

Yuna closes her eyes again, not knowing what she's going to have. Excited to find out, she keeps going, her eyes closed, her lips running on your cock.. and then the moment comes. You come in her mouth. Her eyes open wide and she stops there where she is, her lips on the head of your cock.. trying to pull out every last drop of your cum from your balls.

"Wow Yuna.. you certainly have a talent here.." you say, amazed from her skills.

She smiles at you shyly "T-thank you y/n" she looks at you happily "I'm glad I was good"

You smile at her back. "next time, we'll go ahead.."

She gets up and leans on you "okay" she says, happily.

...After that, you're both on the couch in each other's arms watching a movie together.

[barblaz-arts]

You know nothing about the situation, mayeb you should come to gaza and see how they treat lgbtq+ members?

How fucking dare you.

When I say nothing excuses genocide, I mean nothing. I don't give a shit if homophobia is rampant there. Children and so many more are DYING. How can you not grasp that?

Homophobia exists everywhere, but it is not in everyone. Generalizing a whole population for the discrimination of a certain demographic is irresponsible and close minded. Those children that are crying for their dead mothers did not call us slurs. Those premature babies that by now have died because there's nothing to power their incubators didn't do shit to us. Even if they did? NOBODY deserves this.

And what of the victims of that discrimination? Our queer brothers and sisters who feared to love openly now no longer having the chance to love at all?

If you care so much about the state of the queer people in Palestine then why are you leaving them to die as well? Because that's not what you care about. Because that sympathy and solidarity only applies to those you deem human enough, right? The rest is abandoned.

Don't you dare justify your bloodlust by mentioning this community. Say with your whole chest how you really feel. And do that without the veil of anonymity. The Zionist Israeli in my comments and DMs on Instagram at the very least cussed me out to my face. Let everyone know who you are and what you truly stand for. Unless you are ashamed. Because you should be and you better be.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Can I request maybe some older!eddie have sex with a slightly younger reader for the first time?

Reader is like, 25 and feels ashamed she hasn’t had sex before, so she asks Eddie to have sec with her. He thinks it’s going to be a hot and heavy, rough, one night stand thing, but when he finds out it’s her first time, he takes things way slower and tries to make it special.

Maybe Eddie falls in love with reader…?

(Eddie Munson btw :3)

<3

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) mention of alcohol, hurt/comfort, age gap (reader is 25 and Eddie is 40)

The bar is smoky when you enter it and you suddenly feel like you don't belong as you feel like you've overdressed for the place. Everyone is in jeans and t-shirts and you're wearing a little black dress that you've finally gotten the confidence to wear.

You make your way to the bar and set your purse on it as you peruse one of the drink menus in front of you once you're settled in your seat. The bartender approaches you to take your order as the man who's to the left of you is suddenly becomes aware of your existence.

You can see him out of the corner of your eye and your heart does a flip as you see how attractive he is. You take the chance to turn towards him and see that he's already smiling at you. And god, is it a pretty smile. He's pretty. With his messy, curly hair, his leather jacket, his big rings and his black painted nails, he's the kind of guy who you had wet dreams about.

And he's acknowledging your existence, Men didn't usually do that. And if they did, it was to ask you about your friends that they always thought were prettier. That’s a big reason why you’ve sworn off men because what was the point if all they wanted to talk to you about was your friends?

The bartender sets your drink on the bar and you take a sip, Eddie’s eyes not able to move from your lips as they suck up your drink through the straw in your glass. God, what he would do to have those pretty lips wrapped around-

“Another?” The bartender asks and Eddie nods before turning back to you. He’s sure you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and that dress, god, that dress. What he would give to see it on the floor of his hotel room.

He wants to have you splayed out on his bed as he pounds into you, hearing you beg for more as your nails scratch down his back, telling him how you need more, how desperate you are for him.

“I’m Eddie,” he introduces himself to you before he can stop himself. He watches you look around as if he couldn’t possible be speaking to you and he can’t help but laugh at how adorable you are.

“Y/n,” you reply with that pretty smile. Oh yeah, he’s going to love moaning that. And now he can’t help but feel like a creep for thinking these kinds of things about a stranger who had only spoken two words to him and hasn’t even expressed that kind of interest in him. But he can’t help it. You’re just so…pretty.

“Y/n,” he repeats as the bartender sets another drink in front of him. He takes a long swig of his beer as he lets his eyes rake over you. They stop on your legs and god, does he want to bury his head between them and go down on you until he can’t breathe. He wants to lap up every last bit of your slick, sucking on your clit as you grab fistfuls of his hair, holding onto it as you moan his name over and over, making sure to tell him how good of a job he’s doing.

Your cheeks flush as he checks you out and you find yourself wanting him to take you back to his place and have his way with you. You’ve never done that before, had sex, but you’re becoming desperate to get rid of your virginity. You know that there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin at your age, but sometimes you can’t help but feel ashamed every time you watch one your friends take someone home while you go back to your own place alone with nothing but your fingers or vibrator to keep you company.

“What are you drinking?” Eddie asks. It’s a stupid question since he heard you order a piña colada.

“Piña colada,” you answer and Eddie nods. “What about you?”

“Whiskey.” There’s nothing sexual about the word, but the way the stranger says it has your panties feeling damp. It sounds so filthy and now you can’t help but want him to put his mouth all over you while he whispers the filthiest things against your skin. If you had it your way, he’d take you right then and there and you wouldn’t care who watched.

You watch as Eddie sips on his drink, watching you from the lip of the cup, a sensual look in his eyes, the brown color becoming stormy. You now want his lips on yours and it’s all you can think about as he sips from his tumbler.

He finishes off the liquor and sets the glass down onto the bar before turning to you fully, pushing his stool towards yours so that your knees are touching. You can feel the warmth beneath his jeans and now all you want is for him to be on top of you, thrusting in and out so slowly as he utters the sweetest compliments into your ear.

“Do you want a taste?” He asks and all you can do is nod even though you’re confused because the tumbler is empty. You think he’s going to order another one but he motions for you to lean forward, one hand resting on the back of your neck while the other rests on your hip.

His lips capture yours and even though this is not at all what you had in mind, you’re more than happy to return his kiss. It starts out gentle and sweet but quickly becomes hot and rough as his hand moves into your hair, his other one bunching up your dress as his fingers curl into your hip.

“Taste me, baby,” he says and parts his lips as you flick your tongue into his mouth, letting it roam around as you try to get the flavor of the liquor. It tastes a lot better in his mouth than it does in a tumbler, but you think that’s just because of him.

A moan comes up from the back of his throat and Eddie is quick to pull away, thinking that your make out session is getting a little too heated for where you are right now even though he’d be more than happy to take you to the bathroom to have his way with you. He thinks you deserve better than that.

So he hops off his stool and overs you his hand before paying for both of your drinks. He takes you by the hand and leads to you the entrance of the bar before taking you out to the parking lot.

The two of you approach a very nice Porsche and you immediately wonder what Eddie does for a living but don't feel comfortable asking. Eddie opens the door to the backseat and you slide in, feeling a thrill rush through you as it sets in that you're finally going to have sex for the first time.

Eddie follows you and sits next to you, pressing his thigh against yours as his hands move to rest on the back of your neck, his thumbs moving back and forth across your jaw as his lips find yours again, quickly lying you down your back. He grabs hold of your leg and lets his hand slide up your leg, moving further up your dress and as much as you're enjoying it, you feel like you owe him the truth.

"Stop," you say against his lips as you press your hand to his chest. Eddie is quick to sit up, looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows.

"Shit, I'm sorry. Did I go too far? Did I make you uncomfortable?" He asks in a panic and sit up as well, finally deciding to tell him the truth no matter how scared you are to do so.

“No, no, not at all,” you shake your head. “I um, I’ve just never had sex before. I’m-I’m a virgin.”

"Hey," he says softly. "That's okay." Eddie's hands slide up and down your bare thighs as a way to to comfort you and as nice as he is about the whole thing, you still can't seem to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks.

"Oh, hon," he reaches up and wipes your tears away. "I did something wrong didn't I? I-I can take you home if you want, I know this can be overwhelming if you've never done it and I'd never want to force you to do something you don't want to."

"No," you shake your head. "I want to do this."

"Alright, then let's go," he nods his head door behind him.

"Where are we going? Why can't we stay here."

"Sweetheart, you deserve a lot better than to have your first time be in the backseat of my car. So we're gonna go back to my hotel room and I'm gonna make you feel good. How does that sound?"

"That sounds great."

Eddie opens the door to his hotel room and closes it behind him once he's led you inside. You feel so safe with him despite only having met him a couple hours before hand. And he's glad that you feel that way around him. He's also honored that you want him to be your first time and he's going to be so sweet and gentle even though he's really only good at hot and heavy.

He pulls you into his arms and presses his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss as he realizes that he doesn't want to let you go after tonight. He enjoys your company and he doesn't know what he's going to do when you leave in the morning.

"We can stop at any moment," he says as he pulls away, his hands cradling your face so you'll look him in the eye. His eyes are still as soft as ever and you feel like you're going to melt in his arms. "If you're uncomfortable at any moment, you just let me know."

"Okay," you respond and he kisses you again, his hands sliding up to your back, slowly sliding down the zipper before stepping away, letting the dress pool around your feet so that you're only left in your underwear.

Eddie steps back and lets out a whistle as he takes in your body. You feel a little insecure but as soon as you realize that he likes what he sees, you stand up straighter, feeling more confident.

"Wow," is all he's able to say as he pulls you in again, pressing his lips to your as he guides your hands to his belt buckle. You fumble with it but eventually get it before unbuttoning his pants, slowly unzipping them as Eddie pushes the jeans down his legs pulling them off so that he's in his underwear and t-shirt. You don't even remember when he took off his jacket, but it's on the floor.

Your eyes move to the bulge in his pants and your cheeks flush as you realize that you're the one who did that. You're the one who's making him feel that way and you can't get enough of him.

Eddie grabs hold of your hips and guides you to the bed. He helps you under the covers and once his clothes are off, he follows, reaching over you to grab a condom that he puts on. He then hovers over you, his cock against your stomach as he kisses you slowly and gently as if he's trying to savor it, because he is.

He doesn't think he's ever going to be able to do it again so he wants to take advantage of your presence now. Of your lips because god, he can't get enough. They're soft and you taste just as sweet as you are.

Eddie's hands slide underneath you and he slowly but surely unhooks your bra before letting it fall onto the floor to the side of you. Your nipples are rock hard and as much as he wants to get his mouth on them, he knows that now maybe isn't the right time.

He then discards your underwear that you’re both now naked under the covers, bare skin to bare skin. It’s nothing but warm and even if nothing happens tonight, Eddie’s having a great time just being with you.

"D-do you want me to stretch you out or do you want me to just go for it?"

"Do whatever you want, Eddie," you tell him as you close your eyes. "I'm yours." If you were anyone else, he'd have a lot of fun with that, but he's still going to take it slow and gently.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay?" He asks and you nod. "Give me your hands."

You hold them out for him and he takes them, threading your fingers together as he lowers himself on top of you. When was the last time he had even done missionary? It's so vanilla in his mind, but he doesn't want to just throw a crazy position at you especially since this is probably what you've been picturing in your head for years.

Eddie slowly slides in and you wince as the feeling. He knew he should have fingered you first, but what's done is done, he supposes. You open your eyes when he pauses, the look on pain still on your face as he stays there.

"Keep going," you whine. "Please." It hurts, but it also feel so good, something your fingers nor vibrator can replicate.

So Eddie begins to thrust in and out slowly, wanting you to get used to the feeling before he goes any faster, if he is. He’s still unsure about that. Your eyes shut tight and a moan escapes your lips. It’s loud and pretty and Eddie’s sure that he won’t be able to get it out of his head.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he encourages. “Just like that. Be as loud as you want.” He picks up the paces, going a little faster and you moan again, this one somehow louder and prettier. God, how he is ever going to let you sleep with anyone else knows that’s what you sound like?

He doesn’t want you fucking other people. He doesn’t want you moaning their names or them seeing you naked. He wants to keep you all to himself, for him to be the only person he sleeps with for the rest of your life.

He knows you wouldn’t lie about being a virgin, but you’re taking him so well, bucking your hips against his as if you’ve done this a billion times before. You might be awkward about it, unsure of where to put your hand sometimes, but he doesn’t care. You’re doing your best and that’s all he can ask of you.

It hurts pretty bad, but it’s the kind of pain that you enjoy, the kind you don’t want to stop. You’re sure that you’re not going to be able to walk for days afterwards but that’s for the future version of you to figure out.

Right now, you just want to be in the moment. You open your eyes and you almost gasp as you take in the beautiful sight before you. Eddie’s hair is hanging in front of you, his eyes shut tight as he moans as he fucks you gently, his hands still holding yours

He continues to thrust in and out of you at a little faster rate and you feel like you’re on a high as your eyes roll back into your head. You know it hasn’t been long, but you’re already almost there. Eddie just needs to hit just the right-

“Oh my god, Eddie,” you whine as you reach your orgasm, your back arching. He loves the way you moan his name and he can’t get enough of it. Now he absolutely can’t let you go. And he won’t. You’re going to be his forever.

“You did so good,” he praises as he kisses your lips. “So good.”

Once you’ve come down, Eddie pulls out and rushes to the bathroom to get a couple of wash cloths to clean the two of you up. You lie there as he wipes your cunt, smiling up at him dreamily as he closes your legs before climbing back into bed with you.

“Stay the night?” He asks as he pulls you to him as your noses touch, his hands wrapping around your back.

“Well, I’m not exactly in the position to walk, am I?” You slur with a laugh and Eddie mimics you before pressing a kiss to your nose. You rest your head against his chest as his heartbeat lulls you sleep and you’re already thinking about your second time. Maybe if you’re lucky, Eddie will give it you. And knowing him, he definitely will.

[eskumii]

yandere!genin!sasuke uchiha + darling who's secretly half uchiha hcs

TITLE: " LIKE WATER, LIKE BLOOD " — navi. — general yandere!sasuke hcs.

NOTES: i've been randomly feinin over naruto again and this idea just won't leave me alone :'D don't press me on lore specific stuff i just yap and pretend it's true ok. also i accidently posted this b4 it was finished ... if you read that, no u didn't.

☆ you're no stranger to the fact that your mother had an affair with an uchiha man a few years before the entire clan was slaughtered like cows. your father had been a high-ranking official in fugaku's inner circle, but you had never learned his name, even when he secretly visited you and your mother on weekends between his missions and clan dealings.

☆ this is not to say, of course, that he was a bad man. he often tried to instill core uchiha values into you (never dishonor the uchiha clan name, always seek to carry on its legacy and strength, etc..) but nothing ever seemed to stick. you were more interested in the little trinkets he would bring you: necklaces, bracelets, hair ribbons, hand fans, and various other accessories that were often branded with the uchiha symbol. none of it was ever worn out in public, though, so you just hung them on your walls instead.

☆ after your father's death, you eventually distanced yourself from the uchiha side of your identity as it had always been steeped in secrecy and the fear of scrutiny from the third hokage/konoha elders/villagers who felt strongly about the nine tails attack. after all, you aren't supposed to exist. you're not sure what your mother was thinking when she got knocked up at such a politically fragile time, when the uchiha clan were still under fire for conspiracy and treason.

☆ at the academy, you intentionally avoid sasuke. you've probably spoken to him a handful of times—many of which were him telling you to get out of his way, or to shut up if you were talking too loud with your friends (your assigned seat was directly behind his, unfortunately).

☆ it isn't until much later after you graduate from the academy and are placed into teams that sasuke somehow finds out you're also an uchiha. whether someone told him or he just... knew, you do not know. at this point, you haven't seen him in months (you're on different teams), so him appearing on the landing outside of your open window is a very startling jumpscare.

☆ he takes one look around your room, which has uchiha merch strung up all over the place, and is immediately pissed at you. all this time there was another surviving member of his clan and he had no clue? and it was you, of all people?

☆ sasuke always thought you were weird and suspicious during your days at the academy. whenever he interacted with you, you would cower from him, almost looking ashamed. you were adept at everything he was and, as much as he used to hate admitting it, you were often his competition when it came to scoring at the top of various skill tests. looking back, it all makes sense: the blood in your veins is special, as uchiha children often are. as he is. and now, instead of callousness, he feels a kindling of pride at your excellence.

☆ it takes no time at all for everything to change between you and sasuke. after he barges his way into your room (you don't how he found out where you live in the first place?!), he forces you to explain why you lied about being an uchiha. you have no choice but to comply after his threatening glares pin you into submission and he refuses to let you past him until you talk.

☆ sasuke really doesn't care that you're a "half uchiha." you descended directly from a member of the uchiha clan so as far as he's concerned, you're his kin through and through. this discovery immediately sparks something primal in sasuke, like a desprate clinging to preserve what has been, and to protect what can be.

☆ you're often dragged away to secluded places by sasuke—the training grounds, usually. you try to fight but sasuke is just stronger than you and you are easily wrestled into defeat; a reoccuring pattern that makes you feel unsafe around him. but despite your growing feelings of contempt towards sasuke, he is brutally relentless in his pursuit of you or, rather, his pursuit of molding you into a proud uchiha who is willing to restore the legacy of his clan with him.

☆ the uchiha boy is a little worried that you lack so many of the values that he himself has been taught by his parents and itachi. you don't know much about the sharingan nor the clan's signature great fireball technique. so he starts there.

☆ let's be honest though: you're not interested in being lectured on the history of the clan by sasuke, but you're not entirely opposed to learning a new jutsu so you allow him to train you for now. whenever you mess up or ask too many questions, he'll sigh in very clear annoyance but bites back any insult as a mercy to you.

☆ you notice how much more patient he is towards you. how he quietly praises you when your little flame grows, how he immediately checks on you when you're winded from using too much chakra. there's a general closeness that never existed before (sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, physically guiding your hands into signs, or poking your forehead when you say or do something he thinks is dumb). it's all strangely... intimate.

☆ the frequency of his visits begin to increase as the days go by, and there were a few times where you would wake up in the middle of the night to see him standing over you. obviously, this scares you, and you have to keep sasuke's sudden intrusions into your bedroom a secret from your mother, so you begrudgingly agree to his strict schedule of meeting at his apartment at least four times a week instead of him breaking into yours.

☆ in the following months, you see a side of sasuke that you're sure no one else has seen. one that isn't carefree, but deeply emotional and reactive, especially when it comes to you. soon enough, he reveals his plan of revenge against itachi to you. you're shocked that he would go to such a length, and the sentiment is not shared by you at all.

☆ before sasuke leaves the village, he of course tries to convince you to come with him. you aren't a fool, though. despite settling into your uchiha heritage at this point, you're no destined avenger. you followed along with sasuke's strange intrusion into your life thus far, but this is where you draw the line. you refuse.

☆ "no? what the hell, [name]? you're an uchiha." he'll spit heatedly, arresting you by the hand when you turn to walk away from him. "your duty now is to kill itachi and restore our clan. don't think for a second that you can just run away from this. from me."

☆ and... he's right. one way or another, you find yourself a traitor to konoha for the sake of the blood that binds you to sasuke. what happened to his family, he won't let happen to you. this time, he's the one who'll kill to protect the one he loves, even if you hate him for doing it against your will.

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (13/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, unprotected sex, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

They were betrothed.

He never thought that marriage would be something in his life that he would look forward to with contentment – he knew that his destiny would be to wed the daughter of some pathetic lord who wanted a bite of the cake that was the Crown and the Iron Throne.

He couldn't imagine himself in the role of a husband: a man courting the heart and love of his wife, falling asleep and waking at the side of some foreign woman who would suddenly invade his space.

He thought then with relief that indeed, in their wisdom, the measters had acted properly for centuries, giving spouses separate chambers so that they could live apart from each other in peace, except for their duties of bringing their inheritance into the world.

And then he abducted his cousin.

He enjoyed observing her from the distance as she practised archery – in the breaks between sparring with Ser Criston, he watched as she stood sideways to a target in front of her and with a calm, gentle expression on her face, pulled the string to her soft cheek, suddenly letting go, her arrow hitting the center of the target straight on.

He realised that he didn't feel the need to run away from her, as he did with Floris, because she never invaded his personal space – she never tried to follow him, she never begged for his attention, his word or his gaze – she simply existed and graciously allowed him to wander around her, which for him was a refreshing sensation.

He longed to know her, longed to be close to her, but on his own terms – the fact that he decided for himself when he approached her, when they spoke to each other, when they lied in bed together, gave him an surprising sense of freedom and lightness.

Another man might have taken her approach as indifference, but he knew it was otherwise – he could feel it in her fingers clenching on his bare, sweaty skin as he pounded into her with low grunts of pleasure, hear it in her sweet, helpless moans, see it in the hot, warm gaze of her doe eyes.

She spared him no tenderness when they were alone – on the contrary, she was sweet and smiling, beautiful in her wonderful nudity, making neither of them ashamed of their negligee or their desires anymore.

"What is it?" He asked, looking intrigued at the jug with which she had walked into his chamber, wearing nothing but her nightgown and a light blue robe thrown over her shoulders, smiling from ear to ear.

She lifted her chin high, as if proud of herself, a joyful contentment in her dark eyes from which he felt a pleasant warmth in his chest.

For some reason, she was never afraid of him or his cool demeanour, of what he would think of her or how he would react.

His little dragon.

He sighed and twisted in his place, putting the book he had prepared for her aside, lying on his bed in only his breeches, used to the fact that they both no longer even pretended that she was coming to him for anything other than to spend the night with him.

True, he still taught her, but usually only after they had satisfied their desires, lying in each other's arms, reading together short stories written in Old Valyrian.

He looked at her calmly as she approached his bed and reached for one of the metal cups, pouring into it a pleasantly scented, steaming liquid that had a light, brown colour.

"When I was a child I often had trouble falling asleep. My nanny would then bring me warm milk mixed with honey and ground grains brought from distant Essos. I tried to prepare it the way she did and recreate that taste." She said and took her first sip.

She smiled and licked her full, pink lips that gave him the sweetest kisses every night, her face expressing a kind of melancholy.

"I want you to taste it. It's delicious, it's sweet, it's warm, it soothes the nerves and doesn't dull you, unlike the poppy milk you drink." She said softly, handing him the cup.

He took it from her hesitantly and sniffed the contents first, wondering if she might have added poison to the contents – however, he decided that after all, she had tasted it herself first, and the drink did indeed smell good.

He took a tentative sip and swallowed, feeling the smooth taste of milk, honey and something else that melted pleasantly over his tongue combine into a wonderfully delicious whole.

He blinked, thinking he felt like drinking even more.

"These are very expensive cocoa seeds. I found out you have them in the Red Keep, the cooks sometimes add them to cakes. I ground them by hand for you. Do you like it?" She asked uncertainly, as if some part of her feared he would be disappointed and not share her enthusiasm.

"It's delicious. Very tasty indeed." He confessed, handing her the cup, and she smiled happily in the way he loved, her eyes shining warmly as she took another sip, handing the vessel back to him.

"I'm glad to hear it. If you want, I can prepare it for us for a good night's sleep. There are no side effects." She said lightly, and he hummed under his breath, taking another sip, deeper this time, and licked his lips, feeling the wonderful taste of the liquid spill over his palate, a pleasant warmth in his stomach.

"Come here." He hummed, putting his arm around her, and in some natural reflex she clung to him, cuddling her face into his cheek.

"We must decide who will lead you down the aisle." He said calmly, running his free hand down her back, the other hand passing her the cup.

She looked at him surprised and blinked.

"Isn't it obvious? My cousin, Lord Royce. He was like a father to me." She muttered, surprised by the question, swallowing a deep gulp of the liquid, passing the cup into his hand.

He looked away and swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in his throat.

"It's impossible, hāedar." He said coolly, drinking the contents of the vessel to the end – he felt her place her hand on his chest, looking at him in disbelief.

"Why? He despises Daemon after what he did to my mother." She said in pain.

He licked his lips and set the cup down on the table next to his bed, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

"He remains a vassal of House Arryn. He is the head of House Royce, which rules Runstone, and that means he won't be able to attend our nuptials. Even if he had received an invitation, he will not arrive." He said, finally looking into her eyes, meeting her horrified gaze full of pain and disbelief.

"He will arrive. Of course he'll arrive, it's my wedding." She muttered in a breaking voice, clasping her hands on his shoulders, stroking them as if to convince him and herself.

"This would mean opposing Lady Arryn's allies. Daemon is in Harrenhal and will burn them once he learns of their treachery. I am sorry, zaldrītsos." He whispered, and she rose from her seat and moved towards the door, startling him completely.

"Hāedar. Hāedar, come back here." He said, standing up behind her, grabbing her arm and turning her around before she could open the door.

"I don't need anyone. I'll walk down the aisle myself." She said coldly, not looking him in the eye, trying to pull away from him – he put his arm around her waist and her body slammed against his, her breath caught in her throat.

She pressed her lips together, her eyes red from the tears she refused to let flow.

"I understand your grief. My grandfather is on his way to King's Landing at my command. He will become my Hand. If you will allow me, I would like him to accompany you on this journey." He muttered, pressing his nose against her warm, soft cheek.

Don't go, he thought.

"He's a stranger to me. I don't want him or anyone else." She growled with rage, finally closing her eyes and bursting into an angry, mournful sob.

"Since he is my grandfather, he is also yours. Our father is dead. Our brother lies in bed, unable to rise. It must be him, hāedar." He whispered, stroking her cheek with his thumb, wanting her to finally understand that there was no longer such a thing as her family and his family.

Now there was only their family.

She swallowed hard, looking up at him in shock, her lips parted wide as if it took her a moment to realise what he was trying to tell her.

"Do you understand what I mean, zaldrītsos?" He asked, stroking her chin with his knuckles, and she nodded, snuggling into his chest like a small child.

He exhaled quietly, feeling relieved, enclosing her in the tight embrace of his arms, placing warm, loud kiss on the top of her head.

"– that's my girl – come here –" He hummed and caught her under her hips, lifting her up – her legs crossed over his back, her arms thrown around his neck as he carried her to his bed and lay down with her.

"– I – I'd rather not –" She mumbled in a breaking voice and he kissed her forehead, understanding what she wanted to say to him.

What she needed now was comfort, the tender embrace and safety of his arms, not for him to fuck her.

Though he would never say it out loud, he understood it better than anyone.

"– shhh – sleep – I won't take you, sweet girl –" He whispered into her ear, combing his fingers through her soft, dark hair – she snuggled tighter into his body at his words, her lungs leaving a quiet, sweet sigh.

They fell asleep in each other's arms with their legs intertwined, their faces sunk into each other's bodies in an embrace that was strangely tender and natural, as if they had spent their nights like this not for months but for years.

He dreamt he was a child – he was lying in his chamber the night he tamed Vhagar, howling in pain, feeling his freshly sewn eyelid stripped of its eyeball pulsate, all swollen, tears of horror, grief and sadness rolling down his face.

Where was his little sister?

Why was she not with him?

Why was he alone?

"Hāedar," he seemed to call out in a weak, squeaky, childish voice towards the door, "hāedar, I am scared."

"Lēkia."

He shuddered and pulled himself up on his bed, sitting up, panting loudly as if he had made some great physical effort, cold sweat on his back, his cheeks hot with tears. He glanced sideways, only after a moment realising that someone's hand was stroking his arm – he looked at her sleepy, sweet face, her pleasant, fresh scent filling his nostrils.

"Why weren't you by my side then?" He muttered, feeling himself quivering all over, picking at the cuticles around his fingernails exactly as his mother always did.

He couldn't remember why she hadn't come to him then.

He couldn't remember her face when she was a child.

Their moments together.

Why?

His not fully awake mind could not comprehend it, a heavy grief filled his heart.

She blinked and shook her head, wrinkling her eyebrows, clearly not understanding what he was referring to.

"What do you mean? When?" She asked, her gentle fingers cupping his cheek, her thumb stroking his wet skin seeing that he was crying.

"That night. When I lost my eye. Where were you?" He mumbled, looking at her reproachfully, and she swallowed hard, her brow arched in pain, her dark eyes big with sadness and affection.

"I was very far away from you then, brother, living alone in Runestone." She whispered, and he froze, suddenly remembering who she was, feeling ashamed.

He turned his head away and swallowed hard, laying on his side with his back to her, hugging his face to the pillow, wishing he could sink into the ground, make her simply forget this pathetic, childish outburst of hysteria on his part.

He felt her lay down behind him, a pleasant shiver ran along his spine as her fingers began to run up and down his arm.

"How old were you then?" She asked quietly, nuzzling her face into his hair, her breasts, her legs and womb snuggled into his back as her hands embraced his waist.

His palm involuntarily lowered to hers, his fingers running over her pleasantly smooth, soft skin.

"Nine. Maybe ten. I can't remember anymore." He muttered, and she swallowed hard – one of her hands entwined her fingers with his, the other rose up, stroking his chest, circling around the area beneath which his heart lay.

"Gods, that must have been so painful." She whispered, and he hummed under his breath.

"Mmm. This was the price the gods set for me for Vhagar." He said, and she twisted in her place, rising slightly, looking up at him over his shoulder, her warm breath enveloping his cheek.

"What do you mean?" She asked, and he sighed.

He'd never discussed this with anyone.

Not like this.

"They teased me, you know. Luke. Jace. Aegon. Because I was different. Because I didn't have my dragon. They gave me a big pig with wings and mocked me. They tried to stop me that night too. But they failed." He whispered, feeling a squeeze in his throat, his heart pounding like mad while his thumb stroked her hand.

She was silent for a long moment, but he could hear her uneven breathing, as if she was shocked by what she had heard.

Don't take pity on me, he thought.

Don't give me advice.

Don't try to be my mother.

"Did your brother ever apologise to you for it?" She asked quietly, and he burst into a sudden, short, low uncontrollable laughter.

"Aegon? A king would apologise to his faithful hound? That's what he called me. The hound that barks when he fucks his whore." He sneered and licked his lower lip feeling her embrace him tighter, her nose pressed into the soft skin of his cheek, making him close his eyes, delighted by her closeness and tenderness.

"Does it reflect badly on me that I now regret that your brother did not die in the dragon fire?" She whispered in his ear and he opened his eyes and sighed, his lips parted slightly in a grin of satisfaction.

"No, zaldrītsos. Your soul is pure. Filled with concern for your elder brother." He murmured with contentment, raising their entwined hands to his lips, placing a warm, long kiss on her skin.

She was on his side.

His little sister.

He felt the need to put his feelings into words, but was unable to get them out. Instead, he turned towards her and looked at her – her gaze was warm, full of understanding and care he so desperately needed.

He twisted with a soft purr on the bed and slid his arm under her body, embracing her at the waist, his other hand lifting to her warm, silken cheek. He smiled with the corner of his mouth when he saw her close her eyes, her long lashes glistening in the moonlight as she snuggled her face into his palm.

"Just a few more days, sweet girl. A few more days and everything will be as it should be. I have ordered a larger bed to be placed in my chamber so that my wife will spend all the nights of her life in comfort." He said lightly – she giggled and leaned in, placing a tender, gentle kiss on the tip of his nose from which he felt a pleasant warmth in his chest.

"All of them? Be careful what you wish for, brother. Desires sometimes come true." She said with a glint in her eye from which he grabbed her and turned her with him, forcing her to lie on her back, his lips finding hers in a loud, sticky, greedy kiss of their fleshy lips.

They just kissed lazily for a while, the rustling of their bedding and the quiet clicks of their saliva spreading around them like a whisper, their hands trailing tentatively over their faces, hair, necks and shoulders in gestures that were filled more with tenderness than desire.

He lay down beside her and sighed heavily, embracing her tightly, and her body clung to his instantly, her face sunk into his chest.

"Sleep."

He knew that not everyone in the keep was pleased with his independent decision regarding his betrothal. His mother accepted it, expressing neither objection nor her blessing, while her brother, and his uncle, was more harsh in his judgement.

"You need allies and a fleet, nephew, not a mistress." He told him when they were left alone, approaching him after the finished military meeting he and Criston Cole had chaired.

He looked away and licked his lower lip, then chuckled under his breath as he looked down at his fingers.

"My mistress is Daemon Targaryen's daughter and brings a dragon as a dowry for our army, which means more to us than an unstable pact with the Greyjoys. Meleys has fallen, as has her rider. Daemon is in Harrenhal. Rhaenyra is alone, and Sheepstealer is bigger than Syrax." He said calmly, and his uncle sighed heavily.

"It has come to our attention that three of the bastards have managed to ride dragons great and mighty. Capable of facing Vhagar." Said Gwayne, and he looked at him surprised, feeling his lip clench in rage.

Three?

"Perhaps you should take more than one wife then, like Aegon the Conqueror. Apparently a young girl called Nettles is regarded by Daemon as his daughter, though some whisper that not even the Targaryens would put their cock in their child. And so, opinions are divided on their relationship. Apparently it was because of her that Rhaenyra sent him back to Harrenhal." Said his uncle.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head, burying his face in his hand.

The news that their advantage in the sky was melting again made him furious, but it was the vision of his betrothed if she found out that Daemon had taken a young girl into his care that filled him with dread.

Was she capable of enduring even more humiliation?

"Be careful with your words, uncle. I warn you not to try my patience and forbearance again. You may leave."

Indeed, Gwayne no longer broached the subject of their upcoming nuptials in his presence, however, to his fury, he dared to approach his sister in public.

He stopped, seeing their silhouettes facing each other in the courtyard, his uncle's body taking a step too far towards her. He moved in their direction – his hāedar caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, her calm smile meant to assure him that she was in control of the situation.

He, however, was furious.

"Hāedar. Skorion massitas (what happened)?" He asked coldly, looking at her expectantly and she threw him a soft, amused look.

He knew she could easily see how tense he was, and her attitude was meant to make him cool down and not explode.

"Aōha kēpus jaelagon naejot gīmigon lo nyke gryves aōha riña iemnȳ nyke (your uncle wants to know if I am carrying your child). Nyke udlitan zirȳla bona gaoman gīmigon daor (I answered him that I do not know)." She said without hesitation, and he closed his eyes and turned his head away, feeling his jaw clench in rage.

Who was he to ask her such brazen, intimate questions, reprimanding her in front of others, demanding answers from her as if she were his subject?

"Henujagon īlva, hāedar (leave us, little sister). Jikagon naejot ñuha tistālion (go to my chamber)." He said matter-of-factly, and she nodded and left them alone without a word.

When he looked at his uncle, Gwayne sighed and raised his eyebrows, as if to tell him that he was to blame himself.

"You're straining my patience." He said through clenched teeth.

His uncle rolled his eyes.

"The whole court knows about what you are doing. What was inappropriate about my question? It is merely my pure curiosity as to when the heir to the throne will come into the world." He said lightly, and he grinned in a way that made Gwayne freeze.

"You'd better concentrate on watching over your sister, and my mother. I don't want any more siblings, if you are aware of what I have in mind, much less from an illegitimate bed. I, as her son, will not rebuke her that the Dowager Queen cannot afford to fuck her own sworn protector. Mmm, I leave this matter to you." He hummed and turned away, leaving his uncle with a look of disbelief on his face.

As he walked into his chamber he felt the frustration of seeing that, despite his command, his betrothed was not there – he sighed, pouring himself a bit of wine into his goblet, thinking that perhaps she wanted to take a bath first, as was her custom.

He had no objection to her coming to him still wet and hot, smelling of floral oils, tasting of pure sweetness under his tongue.

However, after the hour he had spent on the book dedicated to the Riverlands and Harrenhal he had lost patience, knowing it had taken too long.

She had never defied his orders before, nor did she seem to be upset with him, so he began to worry that perhaps something had happened to her.

That was why he finally went out into the corridor and walked a few steps to her quarters, opening the door wide – he stopped, looking at her in disbelief when he saw that she was lying on her bed, staring blankly ahead, dressed exactly as before, a small piece of parchment lying next to her body.

A letter.

Who had delivered it to her without his knowledge?

"Hāedar." He said, hearing the guards close the door behind him with a loud clatter of wood.

She did not move or look at him, as if she had not noticed his presence.

He approached her slowly and reached for the rolled parchment, seeing only a few words on it.

Congratulations on your betrothal Kepa

Kepa.

Daemon.

He felt a wave of heat and cold pierce his body at the same time, the sweat on his back and the constriction in his heart testified to the panic rising within him, which immediately turned into rage.

"Where did you find this? Who brought it to you?" He growled, walking over to her, turning her onto her back and pressing her to the bed with his palms.

"Fucking speak. Shall I kill all your servants?" He hissed coldly, and she swallowed hard, looking up at him at last.

"Lysa told me that one of the guards instructed her to give it to me. According to him, it was supposed to be a letter from you, an expression of your affection." She whispered, and he pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling that he was not breathing, but panting with rage.

"Lie." He hissed, and she shook her head.

"No. I know Lysa. She described his appearance to me accurately, and I know he is the man who keeps watch over your chambers. He has heard everything, Aemond. He has passed on to him what you teach me, what we say. That word, kepa, is his mockery of me. He knows that it was not he who taught it to me, but that I know it and I understand what it means." She muttered, tears of pain, sadness and grief one after the other running down the sides of her face, her full lips parted in a ragged, drawn-out breath.

She was broken.

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, burying his face in her hand, trying to calm himself.

That there were spies in the Red Keep was obvious, he thought, however, that after what had happened to Jaehaerys the fucking Lord Strong had, as assured, made sure they were all caught.

It appeared that rats were still prowling around them.

"Come here. Come. We'll go to my chamber. You will look at the guards and tell me if any of them fit the description. Don't tell anyone about the letter." He said, grabbing her in his arms and lifted her up, holding her under her buttocks. She threw her arms around his neck and nodded, and he took the parchment in his hand and headed off with her to his quarters.

His guards gave them uncertain glances as they opened the door to his room for him, but they did not say a word. When he laid her down in bed and looked at her he saw that she shook her head.

"It's none of them."

So we can sleep soundly, he thought and sighed heavily, undoing the buckles of his tunic.

For now.

He grabbed the dagger lying on the table and slipped it under one of the pillows, just in case.

"Undress." He commanded.

Let them hear it, he thought.

Daemon and all of Dragonstone.

Let them hear about what he is doing to his daughter.

She looked up at him and nodded, following his lead. When he finally pulled off his breeches and removed his shirt over his head, he saw the blush on her face, as if the sight of his bare body and the fact that he desired her surprised her.

For him it had become natural – his manhood reacted to her proximity and the sight of her without the participation of his will, pulsing greedily in the desire to unite with her.

She raised herself on her elbows as he knelt on the bed before her, his hands loosening the ribbon at the end of her long, complicated braid.

"Untie it." He said, and she smiled sweetly, sitting down in front of him – his hands slipped her nightgown off her shoulders as her hands reached back, curl by curl untangling her hair, letting it fall freely down her back.

Looking at her, at her slightly parted, swollen, glistening lips, at the hot, soft gaze of her dark eyes, at her long lashes, at her smooth face, at her bared body, her shapely breasts and puffy nipples, he thought she was graceful and sweet.

That she was beautiful.

He raised his hand slowly, admiring her like a nymph attending to her daily routine, his fingers stroking her silken, plump breasts in a lazy, soft motion.

"– I crave you – as you can see –" He gasped and rolled his hips so that his erect, hard manhood rubbed tentatively against the space between her thighs – they both sighed as they felt the material of her nightgown was damp, and when he lifted it up he saw the entirety of her pink, glistening womanhood, leaking from her wetness like a stream.

They were silent, tensions all around them, his gaze fixed on what was only his, letting his thumb run over her soft, fleshy folds.

"– ah –" She sighed as he began to lazily tease her small, sensitive bud, the source of her pleasure from where she was melting before his eyes.

"– will you resist me? – will you scream? –" He asked, rocking his hips back and forth, sinking the tip of the fat, smooth head of his cock into her tight slit again and again – her thighs spread wide apart in response, her hands on either side of her head, her gaze locked on the spot where their bodies met, watching what he was doing to her.

"– no, my King –" She whispered, and he looked at her, feeling a wonderful shiver run through him.

My King.

Her words were a betrayal, but a sweet one.

"– your words are punishable by death –" He gasped, feeling his breath grow heavier – they both sighed as he sunk deeper into her warm flesh, each time with the movement of his hips sliding out almost all the way, hitting the same sweet spot deep inside her again and again.

"– punish me then –" She muttered, panting hard, his eye grew large, the need to follow her desires unstoppable.

"– mmm – indeed, I don't want any harm to befall my sister for her words spoken in… ecstasy –" He exhaled, her head tilting back with a sob of pleasure as he forced his way deep into her slick, hot cunt with one, fierce push, each following thrust just a loud smacking of their hips against each other.

"– ah – g-gods, oh, fuck, fuck, yes, save me –" She whimpered, throwing her hands over his shoulders as he leaned lower, imposing an aggressive, sharp pace on her, pounding into her like there was no tomorrow with the loud clicks of her wetness, crushing her body to the bed, which began to creak loudly beneath them.

He looked down, watching in awe as he opened her little cunt wide on the thickest part of his swollen erection, feeling the way her warm, throbbing muscles enclosed it greedily, sucking it inside, begging for his seed.

"– confess your guilt – confess your sin to your betrothed –" He breathed out, grasping her buttocks in his hands, shifting positions so that he lifted himself up on his knees, groaning in pleasure along with her as he felt her from a different angle, savouring the wonderful, ravenous squeezes her walls were giving him.

She looked up at him with effort, quivering and writhing beneath him, her lips parted wide in heavy breaths, her fingers clenched on the pillow under her head while their bare skin slammed against each other with sticky splats.

"– I'm not being faithful to King Aegon, but to his brother – ah – I'm letting him use my body in spite of – i-in spite of the fact that he's not my husband –" She mumbled out with difficulty, just as he being on the verge of fulfilment, sweat running down their hot, naked bodies, his cock all soaked from her wetness, engorged as if it was about to explode inside her.

"– these are indeed grave sins – do not fret – your brother will guide you – fill you with his seed so that you will be pure again – shhh, I know – I know –" He exhaled as she cried out loudly.

She came on his manhood so hard that tears ran down her cheeks – her cunt began to clench around it in spasms of her pleasure, her eyes closed, her eyebrows arched as if he had caused her pain.

He tilted his head back and sighed when, after a few sloppy, sticky, messy thrusts, he reached his peak deep inside her with a loud grunt of satisfaction, feeling strong, invincible, desired, loved.

"– lēkia –" She mewled, panting hard, and he lay down on top of her, hugging her close, her fingers quickly clenching on his back – he could feel her hard nipples, pressed against his bare chest, his cock and her walls pulsing for a moment longer in shared delight and relief.

"– protect me – protect me from him –" She mumbled out.

He swallowed hard and leaned in, placing a warm, tender kiss on the top of her head, his broad hand stroking her hair.

"I will take care of everything. Do not fret. Sleep now and rest." He hummed and she nodded, snuggling into him tighter.

He let her fall asleep in his safe embrace, he, however, looked ahead and thought hard about what he should do with this letter and the informations he had.

Should he kill his guard, or should he interrogate him, torture him to squeeze out of him who he was working with?

Would he be able to get through him to Daemon, to his weaknesses and desires?

Rhaenyra had more dragon riders.

Their advantage was melting once more.

He needed to retake Harrenhal from their hands as quickly as possible, to force the Vale and the rest of the Riverlands to kneel.

He only fell asleep in the morning from exhaustion, snuggled into her warm, soft body, her scent affecting him in the same calming way as the embrace of her arms.

He was awakened by her touch – he hummed, feeling her lazily stroking his hair, his face in natural reflex snuggled between her soft, warm breasts.

Every gentle movement of her fingers, her calm breath, the beating of her heart beneath his cheek was a completion of wholeness for him, something he shared only with her, a closeness that was nothing but a pure need.

They both flinched and pulled away from each other when suddenly the door to his chamber opened wide – he looked there and opened his mouth, furious, wanting to ask who had dared to step inside without permission, his voice, however, stuck in his throat when he caught sight of his grandfather's silhouette walking towards his bed.

Otto stopped halfway and sighed loudly, as if he was disappointed but not surprised – his hāedar quickly covered her breasts with the material of her nightgown, looking at him questioningly, not understanding why he remained silent.

"I was hoping, my grandson, that I would find you alone." His grandsire said serenely, raising one eyebrow in an expression of passive disapproval.

He licked his lower lip, glancing at her uncertainly, her eyes big with terror.

"Henujagon īlva, hāedar (leave us, little sister). Kesan māzigon naejot ao tistālion tolī (I will come to you room later)." He said calmly.

She nodded, quickly grabbing her leather tunic and breeches lying on the floor, stepping around his grandfather without a word, disappearing after a moment behind the door.

He sighed heavily and leaned his back against the bed frame, covering his hips with the fur, looking ahead with a dispassionate expression on his face.

He had done this on purpose.

Nothing his grandfather did was without meaning.

"I heard you wish to become a husband." He teased, putting his hands behind his back, calmly stepping closer to his bed.

"Have you come to dissuade me from that idea?" He asked, turning his head away, for some reason unable to look at him.

He felt humiliated because he saw him in a helpless position, his face cuddled between her breasts, her embrace that he so craved.

He saw his weakness.

"No." He said, surprising him completely. "I came to ask how you can be sure she's faithful to you and the Crown."

He snorted under his breath, grabbing a small rolled piece of parchment that lay on the table next to his bed and threw it in his direction.

Otto halted, and the expression on his face changed – his eyebrows straightened as if he was intrigued, but he did not reach for the note.

"Go on. Read it. She didn't hide it from me." He said defiantly, but his grandfather just looked at him, his gaze gentle.

"I don't need to. I know what it says."

He stared at him in disbelief, feeling his heart stop in his throat, the unpleasant tightness in his stomach making him run out of air in his lungs for a moment.

"Daemon never wrote to her." He muttered.

His grandfather hummed.

"I wanted to see how she would behave. To be honest, I'm positively surprised. I was certain she'd be hiding it for a while, terrified of what you'd do to her and her servants when you found out." Otto said lightly.

He pressed his lips together, feeling that inside he was boiling all over with rage.

"You bribed my guard to spy on me for you?" He hissed through clenched teeth, feeling like a small, deceived child again.

His grandsire laughed at his words.

"I didn't bribe him. I ordered him to watch over my grandson and keep me informed of what was happening in the keep in my absence. Did you think that I simply abandoned you? That I no longer cared about you?" He asked with furrowed brows, stepping closer to his bed.

He swallowed hard, looking away from his eyes, too piercing and wise, feeling like he was ten years old again.

He was silent.

"What happened to your brother. Did you have anything to do with it?" Otto asked finally.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, grinning broadly.

Of course he thought he had something to do with it.

"No. But I don't delude myself that you will believe me. My brother thought he knew everything better and didn't listen to the advice of those wiser than himself." He said lightly.

Otto hummed under his breath.

"Are you planning to follow in his footsteps?" He asked matter-of-factly.

He swallowed heavily, feeling his jaw clench as hard as if it was going to burst.

"I'm going to marry her. It's already decided."

"That's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" He growled, looking at him angrily, impatient and embarrassed that he was having such a conversation with him while he was standing over him lying in his bed, bare.

"If you wish me to become your Hand, you must not make the mistakes of your brother. You must listen to the advice of people more mature and wiser than yourself." He said, and he felt the corner of his mouth twitch in a grimace.

"Listen to advices, yes – but do not think that I do not know you and your gift for manipulation." He said and turned his head away. "I know, however, how devoted you are to our family. Mmm, I wish you to be the one to reassure my betrothed – explain to her your intrigue and your reason for it. I expect you to take her father's place during our nuptials."

His grandfather was silent for a long time, looking at him thoughtfully.

"Yes." He said in a way from which he felt a cold sweat on his back. "I will gladly speak with her alone."

[toast-on-dandelioms]

Hello, I really a fans of your work and always waiting for the updates. I have a question, what happen if Y/n just ignore the batfam as Y/n also turn to superfam becoming their family. It also assuming Alfred A-Okay with it. Oh, also Y/n might be have relationship with one of the superboys and she love to cuddle with the lover. Well, that's just my wild imagination thinking about.

Oh well, I hope you have great days.❤️😘

Thank you for liking my work! If you're asking for part 4, it will come out soon and probably by the end of next week!

Well, I don't think Alfred would be totally a-okay with this and after a bit he would act to 'fix' the situation.

He wants you to stay at the Manor and be appreciated too by the Batfam even though they don't even know you exist.

He has tried before, talking about you to Bruce and the others but they always dismissed him with the excuse of being busy or forgetting about you the next day.

And seeing you giving up on being with your real family and finding love in another family that actually accepts you and he can't accept that.

You're supposed to be with him as the rest of the Waynes not with some alien family.

He would act like he supports you whenever you come to visit him since you mostly live with the Kents nowadays and come to the Manor to grab the things you needed since you were moving your stuff from the Manor to the Kents house.

After a while you start to come home, to come back to him even less before you just visit him maybe once a month before it turns into no more visiting him since you're busy with school, dance classes and the vigilante role you still have.

And Alfred hates it so he decides that he can't stand to watch his boys obsess over your vigilante persona when they can't even bother to notice you weren't living in the Manor anymore.

So he decides to call a family meeting without your knowledge and explains everything, who you were behind the mask and how dissapointed and ashamed that the people he raised didn't even acknowledge that you existed.

Their reaction, which were mostly of confusion before realisation bothered him but he stayed silent and used their reaction to manipulate them, make them think you weren't in the right place with the Kent family.

And after a week from that meeting, you started to receive texts from all the batfam and also kept seeing them everywhere, with Bruce at school or when you were patrolling the city.

He would always try to talk to you, which you ignored or gave him the finger while swinging away, preferring to not engage in his tries to connect with you.

Plus he would show up at your dance recitals when you never said anything to Alfred about them and he would always be right in first row with a smug smile since he knew you couldn't do anything.

Plus you already knew they knew who you were behind the mask, they said your name when you had your mask on so many times you wanted to punch their faces.

You had to skip a few days of school because Tim and Damian started to show up at your same highschool and sitting next to you in class, to which no one would say anything and it frustrated you since highschool was one of your safe places but not anymore.

You tried to ignore Dick and Jason's attempts at stalking you, not because it was noticeable since you never saw them but the spider sense made you aware you were being watched and after a bit you were able to notice them following you.

Yes you did feel proud since you didn't have any detective training like the others but still knew who was following just by using the things around you.

You vented your frustrations with Clark and Conner and they did help by letting you skip school and everything but you had to go back to school or it would affect your attendance and damage your reputation and curriculum for future colleges applications.

But one fateful day, you went to a mission with Conner and Clark since they needed a third person but couldn't bring Jon since he was busy with school, so you went in his place.

During the mission you got ambushed, Conner and Clark were at disadvantage since the attackers (not sure on the term, the people that attacks) somehow had kryptonite weapons.

Plus you were also fighting, using the tasers and also the objects around you like rocks or trees.

Yes, you did throw a tree at a group of them and you also got Clark telling you not to do it again. Did you listen though? No.

As you were fighting you suddenly got stung by something in the leg, and when you touched the spot where it hurt you saw a small dart there.

You opened your mouth to call for Clark or Conner but someone covered your mouth and held you as you fainted while Clark and Conner had to flee since the attackers were too strong with the kryptonite.

The last thing you saw was the smiling face of Dick before completely giving in the drug you got injected in your body, not hearing them fight about who was gonna carry you in the batmobile.