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nicksolemnlyswears · 3 months

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COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

pairing: aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader

word count: ~1.6k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of murder and death of a child, surprisingly i thinks there isn't any cursing or smut, maybe next time ;) just good old sad aegon

a/n: this is my first time ever writing for HoTD or GoT for that matter. please be kind to me. i tried to use appropriate wording for the time period. i'm somewhat successful but i have work ahead of me to become a pro.

i felt so enraged when alicent walked out on her grieving son to go fuck around with cole. what the fuck is your problem? i always gave her the benefit of the doubt but this episode just proves what a terrible mother she is. i figured the only person fit to comfort my baby boy aegon is someone raised by rhaenyras gentle heart.

lowkey want to make a throuple out of reader, aegon, and helaena. readers gonna be a little psychologist lol. she'd hold their hands and force them to kumbaya haha but obviously they'd be like this cant work without you. maybe they'll follow aegon the conqueror and have her as a second wife but idk would anyone be interested in that? i'm rambling. enjoy!

Helaena’s Turn

STAY WITH US

The cold stone of the Red Keep kept you company as you strode through its halls. The breeze of the night offered you comfort and aided your mind to forget the terrible events that have plagued the Keep.

And yet, despite your energies being depleted, you can't seem to find rest. Loss weighs you down and spirals you into a depth of overbearing thoughts, making sleep a mere idea.

The Red Keep, the place you once called home, has become your prison. For weeks, you were not allowed out of your chambers, and for a short time afterward, a guard followed you wherever you went.

It has all changed, though. The death of the King's son has diverted all of the guard's forces to find the culprit. The priority is to search for the monster that gruesomely and cruelly decapitated a child while he slept rather than to watch over a harmless Princess who is simply not on their side.

As a result, you're now free to roam the castle, granted there are eyes all around. You wouldn't be able to step foot outside the castle if you tried, and any suspicious activity would immediately be reported to the Hand of the King.

For an unknown reason, your feet guide you to the King's chambers, where indiscernible, muffled sounds come from. You look around and find that the guard meant to protect the King is absent. It's worrisome. You stand in the middle of the stone hallway, your hands clasped, as you make a decision.

While your loyalty lies with the Blacks, you cannot stand and watch more of your family be killed, including the Usurper. Daemon has always been 'kind' in mentioning that your gentle heart will cause your death. You'd argue it's an honorable way to go.

You slip through the ajar door quietly, getting closer to the sound. There is destruction across the room. The Old Valyria model your grandfather worked on for most of his life is scattered on the floor, beyond salvation. Goblets and spilled wine, thrown in a fit of rage, decorate the walls.

It is only when a sharp gasp and a shuddering breath echo around the room that you recognize the sounds you heard outside. They are cries.

You release a breath of relief. No one is in danger, although it does not signify someone is not hurting. You peak further into the room and debate on your next course of action. If the mess inside the chambers and the lack of guards mean anything, it's that the King would like to be alone.

But you know Aegon. You grew up with him. He's not one to reach out for help until it's too late. You make a haste decision. Aegon will not grieve alone tonight.

You know what that's like. Your brother, Lucerys, was murdered not too long ago, and you had no choice but to mourn alone. The Hand of the King locked you in your chambers, afraid your temper would lead you to do something drastic. It's the most horrid thing you've ever endured.

How you wished for Rhaenyra, or anyone for that matter, to hold you while you cried. A maid would've sufficed, but no one was allowed entry into your chambers.

Aegon sits by the fireplace, his head hung low, as he cries for his dead son. It might not have looked like it, but Aegon deeply cared for the boy. He wished to be better than his father ever was, and he was succeeding.

Until two days ago.

You've witnessed firsthand the blanket of sorrow that has covered the Red Keep, spent many hours by Haelena's side, offering her your shoulder, and never realized the King would need the same.

Why is Aegon alone? He should not have to go through this by himself. You expected he would have surrounded himself with his men and countless bottles of wine or sought refuge in Helaena's arms since they shared the same grief.

A heartbreaking cry snaps you out of your thoughts—his whole body trembles from loss. Aegon gasps for air to aid his burning lungs, yet he can't control the tears that track down his cheeks and the raking breaths that course through his body and limit his breathing.

He does not know what to make of himself. His fingers shake as he fumbles with the ring on his finger—the one with the dragon crest. Aegon doesn't know what to make of himself. He's never endured this sort of loss.

His sobs are the ones of a man who lost a part of himself. Jaehaerys, his legacy, has gone too soon. Aegon spent time with the boy the morning before his death, doting on him like Viserys never did to him.

He's so lost in his grief that Aegon doesn't hear when you stumble upon a piece of cast from the model. Being careful with your steps, you reach Aegon's side and place a hand on his shoulder.

Alarmed, he turns to face the person who disturbs him, only to find you—you who have been keeping the Hightower siblings together despite belonging to the other side.

"Leave me be," he sniffs, staring back into the fire. He wonders if that's how his son's pyre looked earlier that day.

You kneel on the floor, settling between his legs to cup his cheeks in your palms. Wide, glossy lilac eyes stare back as they fill with more tears.

As his tears fall, you wipe them away. It's enough to make Aegon crumble in your arms, releasing louder cries and questions that will forever remain unanswered.

It's so easy to let go when you know someone is there to catch you.

Aegon fists your dress like a child would to its mother. You rub his back soothingly, holding him as tightly as you're able. You press a kiss to the side of his head, whispering calming words.

Aegon never wanted to be king, yet the moment he tries to fulfill his duty the moment he tries to be a proper king, he is rewarded by his son being brutally taken from him.

It's not a fair world. The Gods have never been kind to him, and he's afraid he'll only ever live a life of torment.

Now, more than ever, he doesn't want to be King. It is a mere reminder of how heavy the crown truly is. It's a shackle meant to keep him in place while others act upon his name while he pays for the consequences.

"Jaehaerys was a bright soul. I am sorry this has happened. You should've never had to experience this pain," you whisper in his ear. No parent should experience the death of their child. It is a sad reality the Targaryens have experienced all too well.

Aegon nods in agreement, and only when he's calm enough to speak does he tear himself away from your embrace. He instantly misses your warmth and the smell of roses in your hair.

"Why are you comforting me when you should be celebrating my demise?" His waterline is stained red, just like the tip of his nose, and he's never looked more innocent than in that moment.

You tilt your head sadly, that same emotion reflected in your eyes. "I do not celebrate the loss of innocents, especially one that has gone too soon. I also do not particularly like the notion of someone I hold dear grieving alone."

"You did," he sniffs. He remembers hearing your cries that night; the whole Red Keep could. You cried and screamed the entire night until you fell asleep from exhaustion and starvation.

Otto prohibited them from coming to you. Haelena tried, but he dismissed the idea with the false notion that you'd hurt her in your grief. Otto confuses you with your parentage. Unlike them, you're kind and gentle and wouldn't dare hurt anyone.

"Which is how I know I would never wish it upon my worst enemy." You brush your fingers through his blonde hair, tucking the messy strands behind his ears.

"Is that what I am to you? An enemy?" He asks, disgruntled.

"No," you answer immediately, your hands coming down to rest upon his chest. His breathing has calmed since you first saw him. "At least, not yet."

His lilac eyes bore into hers in search of the truth; shyly, you hold onto his gaze with nothing to hide except your intentions to help. Sighing, he closes his eyes and bumps his forehead against yours. Aegon will take what he can get. There's seemingly no one else to help him deal with his emotions.

"Stay," he pleads, holding onto the hand that's placed on his chest. This is the most at peace he's felt in a while. He wishes to savor it for a moment longer.

"For as long as you need, my King," you reply, closing your eyes.

"Aegon," he says. He refuses to be reminded of what lies outside his bed chambers. For just a moment, he wishes to simply be Aegon.

"Aegon," you respond, correcting yourself. He squeezes your hand appreciatively, tucking your head on his neck.

He keeps you in his arms until late hours in the night, recounting memories he shared with Jaehaerys. The pain is real and raw, and he won't be well for a long time, but for this night, Aegon will seek solace in your embrace, where he knows he won't be judged or be seen as a burden.

In your arms, he's not Aegon' the Magnanimous.' He's not seen as careless or reckless or the lesser child of Alicent Hightower.

He's Aegon.

helaena’s part has been posted! HELAENA’S TURN

Final part! STAY WITH US

that’s it! it’s sweet and short. i just wanted to have someone comfort aegon like he deserves. during that scene i wished i could jump into t he screen and hug him. it’s all so tragic.

i wish i could do the same with haelena. my girl needs to be coddled. fuck alicent. fuck otto. most importantly fuck criston cole.

if you enjoyed this one shot please don’t forget to like or comment and if you want more of it feel free to let me know! i don’t bite (unless you want me to)!

#fanfiction #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #hotd #hotd season 2 #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #aegon targaryen fanfiction

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narumi-gens · 8 months

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boundaries gojo satoru x f!reader

post-breakup!gojo who can't quite follow through on the breaking up. he's as present in your life after he ended things as he was when you were still dating.

he still blows up your phone at all hours with nothing important. he insists on holding your hand when you walk side-by-side. he still uses your apartment key, which you never had the heart to ask for him to return. you've ended up in more than one heated makeout session with him, although you have managed to keep them from progressing past him feeling up your tits over your bra.

and when you end up in the hospital after a mission, he shows up before even shoko can get there. you sigh when his towering form appears in the doorway of the room you've been given.

"looks worse than it is," you say and despite the way you slur your words due to the painkillers, it's true.

your concussion, while serious, isn't something that wouldn't heal on its own. your broken ribs managed to avoid puncturing any organs. even the burst blood vessel in your left eye that's colored the white of your eye a ghastly red is only really a surface-level injury.

but for once, the man who never shuts up stays silent as he pulls a chair close and sits at your bedside. he reaches for your hand but pauses when you wince at the pressure on the two fingers that are fractured and wrapped in a splint. instead, he settles for loosely holding onto your wrist.

"shoko's gonna fix it all anyways," you tell him through a yawn, your eyelids feeling heavy. "'sides, you shouldn't even be here. boundaries, satoru. 'member?"

it's a word that you've tossed in his face so many times since the breakup that it's lost all meaning. and it doesn't help that you've never managed to say it with any sort of real weight. instead, it usually comes out on the end of a resigned sigh.

you can feel his gaze on you even through his dumb sunglasses. normally, even post-breakup, you would reach out and pull them down his nose to meet those cursed eyes of his and make some joke. but with your brain working at a diminished capacity and your arm hooked up to an IV full of the best painkillers japan's doctors have to offer, all you can do is slowly blink at him in return.

"it's always boundaries this, boundaries that with you," he finally retorts with a shake of his head, but offers nothing else.

"'f you didn't want boundaries then you shouldn't've ended things, y'big dummy," you mumble, and no longer able to keep your eyes open, you finally let them close.

"I told you. I don't have room in my life for anyone else – i.e., you," he replies bluntly and you can feel the fit of giggles that you want to burst into, but all you can manage is a soft huff of laughter.

"liar," you say with a sleepy smile stretching across your lips. "can't even be honest when I'm strung out on painkillers. psh. lame."

it takes monumental effort, but you manage to crack open an eye so that you can see him sporting his own cheeky grin.

silence settles over you both and you feel yourself slowly beginning to fall into the blackness as your breathing slows. the soothing sensation of gojo's thumb rubbing circles on the skin of your wrist only aids in pushing you closer and closer to sleep.

"you were considered a suitable match." even on the edge of consciousness, the disgust in his tone at those two words reaches you. "I couldn't let them get what they wanted."

you let out a quiet hum in acknowledgment and wish you had enough strength to open your eyes, curious to see if he's surprised you weren't fully asleep yet.

"still letting 'em control you, hm? s'good we broke up. want someone who's only tied down by me," you mumble.

"baby, if you want to tie me down, all you had to do was say so," he jokingly responds, unsurprisingly choosing to sidestep the gravity of your words, no matter how slurred they were.

"boundaries, 'toru..." you trail off as you finally succumb to sleep.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk angst #gojo satoru angst #it’s more angst-adjacent #mel writes #boundaries

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webism · 23 hours

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‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎HOT ROD !

After getting hooked on your taste, pornstar!satoru invites you and your pornstar boyfriend to shoot a threesome in the countryside.

pornstar!suguru x pornstar!satoru x fem!reader | part one, two

cw; ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she/her pronouns used for reader, unprotected sex, creampies, oral (m and f receiving), anal (m receiving), mmf threesome, voyeurism.

The sun has barely risen, the typical tangelo orange of a morning sky is yet to develop—instead, you watch a dull pink canvas the sky, turned more of a rose colour through the car's windshield. Suguru Geto, your lover and costar alike, keeps his hand on your thigh as he drives. Occasionally, he'll tap his fingers against your exposed flesh along to the beat of the old niche rock song blaring through the radio. You have the volume up too high—which isn't good for your ears, but is great for the soul—and the windows rolled all the way down. The wind is in your hair, which aids the setting heat of Summer in Japan. It's quite pleasant out here. You're filming at a location you can only reach through an open road that goes right past some very scenic hills, and you're having a lovely time just enjoying your lover's company. Nothing but the two of you.

That being said—something sits at the forefront of Suguru's mind. You can tell his thoughts are preoccupied, having been with him so long gets you a sweet look into that pretty mind of his. So, when the strings of an electric guitar die out, you turn the radio down and shift in your seat to face him better.

“Cold feet?” You ask.

His hair is up and out of his face, save for a stand that falls over his eyes, though it’s pushed back by the wind regardless. He glances at you, smiles, and looks away.

“I don’t get cold feet," he says flatly, looking at you for half a second before his focus returns to the road. “I'm just interested to see if he'll fuck as good with me there, of if the poor guy will get performance anxiety."

Ah, jealousy it is. The flat kind, because your sweet-boned lover never gets openly jealous. You have to settle for half-bitten quips. You smile, "he didn't seem like the type to get performance anxiety."

Suguru hums in a noncommittal way, his lips pulling inwards. He squeezes the fat of your thigh and taps a finger against your skin. Your skin heats under his touch, it always does. You might earn your living through the most sensual of touches, but none of them quite set you alight like Sugurus does.

Well, except for Satoru. You try to avoid closing your eyes, in fear of being met with the memory of his cock sinking into you rather than the darkness of your closed eyelids. You feel half-guilty, despite Suguru's obvious itch to see you laid out for Satoru Gojo of all people. You know him, you wouldn't be driving forty minutes through the countryside if Suguru wasn't at least a little bit obsessed with the fantasy.

Satoru Gojo, a known name in the porn industry, got to fuck you stupid only a week ago. He had asked you out for drinks after, and though you rejected him verbally, you’re starting to fear that your mind didn’t reject him in the same regard. You had come home that night to your sweet Suguru, and told him all about being hit on by your co-star, to which he laughed.

And oh the irony, that your Suguru was balls-deep inside of you that night when the two of you got an email from Satoru’s agent– an offer, an expensive one. One shoot, a week from then, a threesome between his new favourite love birds and, of course, him.

Suguru remembers Satoru like he was the season prior, like the winter that bled into you, the spring. They did a few films together, Satoru got a little too stuck in Sugurus mind and then, once their contracts were up, they never spoke again.

The rising sun makes him squint against the road— he almost misses the turn off to the countryside estate you had been told to meet at. The place is nice, big, and you’re starting to wonder just how widely distributed this porno will be if the producer is shelling out so much money just for an estate to rent out for half a day.

“With how much they’re paying us, I half expected the budget for location to allow for a crack den at most,” Suguru snorts as he pulls in through the large paved driveway.

“No kidding,” you hum. With this paycheck, you’d just be greedy looking for work in the next few months.

Suguru parks and undoes his seatbelt with a sideways glance in your direction. “We’re a bit early,” he notes. “But it never hurts to get a feel for the place, talk to our co-star for a minute or two.”

You smile. “Mhm, talk.”

“Ready to get fucked for cash?” Suguru snorts, and opens his door to get out of the car. You follow suit, rolling your eyes at his crude words when your feet hit the ground and you’re closing your door behind you.

You walk around the car to meet your boyfriend, and he greets you with a pinch to your ass and a kiss to your temple. You’d recognise something poetic in the contrast of his actions if your mind wasn’t so preoccupied with thoughts of performing for him in only a few moments.

Despite both being pornstars, you rarely take scenes together. Threesomes aren’t a frequent venture— this is something relatively untapped for the both of you. And though you’re sure it would never jeopardise your relationship at all, you can’t help but entertain the worries that creep in. Will Suguru really not mind sharing?

You aren’t sure what’s worse— the thought of him getting overly jealous of Satoru and cutting the scene short, or the thought of Suguru not minding in the slightest as you get fucked stupid by another man. A little possession never goes unappreciated on your end.

“Hey,” Suguru’s silken voice brings you back to the now. “You okay? We can turn around and speed off into the sunrise if you want to leave.”

You grin. “I’m good. Excited, even.”

Your boyfriend nods and leads the way to the estate's front door. It’s closed, which is a little odd considering the production crew will be coming in and out with equipment and the such. You furrow your eyebrows and realise your car is the only one here—maybe you’re earlier than you realised.

“You checked the shoot time, right?” you ask.

“Yes, love,” Suguru makes it to the front door and tries the handle only to find it locked. “Fuck, maybe I should have triple checked.”

He presses a thick finger to the doorbell button and glances to you as the sound of an overly upbeat chime echoes through the estate. Maybe it’s the wrong place, too lavish to be true. Maybe it’s the wrong date, even. Maybe—

The door swings open, and standing to greet you with a knowing grin is Satoru Gojo.

His eyes meet yours first, and then drop to take in the rest of you. Something soft flashes over his face. Lust, perhaps, or appreciation, maybe both. His arms cross over his chest, leaning his body weight on the doorframe as he flits his gaze to your boyfriend, and his eyes return.

“Long time no see, lovebirds. Just on time," he chirps, stepping aside to let you in. "Excuse the mess, I just moved in."

It takes a moment for your brain to register his words, and Suguru is right behind you in thought. "This is your place?" he asks, appraising the foyer as he walks in.

“Mhm,” Gojo replies, and though you expect his lilt to be more cocky, he speaks smooth like silk. “The city is too… busy for me. Plus.. saves a dollar on renting out a house to film in, right?”

You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips: from the looks of his home you doubt he’d blink an eye at paying rent for a night of filming. Still, you don’t know if he’s just trying to show off, or if he really wants his home to play backdrop for the shoot. But whatever the case, he definitely thinks it’s clever on his behalf to lead the both of you here. It worked, you give it to him, but damn.

You look around, taking in everything that catches your eye – the sleek furnishings, a wide kitchen to the left, and an elegant living room straight ahead. All of it feels clean and welcoming. You wonder, idly, what it's like for Gojo to live in a space like this all alone – if he is alone, that is. The question remains unanswered as Gojo leads the two of you down the hall until you reach another door and slip inside.

The bedroom you end up in is stunning; a double bed dominates the centre of the room with fluffy duvets thrown haphazardly over top, whilst the walls are painted a warm, calming shade of grey. The carpet is plush and dark brown in colour, the curtains hanging at either side of the grand windows allow for plenty of natural light to flood the room. There's a tripod set up with a very expensive looking camera pointed directly at the bed: Satoru points to it and grins at you and Suguru, "our camera crew."

You furrow your eyebrows, but Suguru speaks up before you can. "It's just us?"

Satoru nods, crossing his corded arms and he flits his gaze between the two of you. "Yes. I did specify it was a private shoot, lovebirds."

Your boyfriend settles in closer beside you than before, you can feel the heat from his body as he crosses his own arms, a mirror of the white haired man in front of you. "I figured it was a private production shoot," he speaks cautiously. "The email I got was from an agent, not you directly."

Satoru looks unperturbed. "'Course," he says languidly. "She handles all my correspondence."

Gojo turns to the dresser and, from the top drawer, pulls out two white envelopes. Your eyes linger a little too long on his slender fingers as he hands them over to you, one each. As you peek into the envelope handed to you, you find an obscene amount of cash neatly sat inside.

"As agreed, plus... a little extra for the commute," Gojo shrugs. "You can take it and go, if this isn't what you want. If it is, well..." He gestures to the bed. "I'm kinda dying here."

You glance down at his insinuation and find that he's beyond hard. His pants are tight and tented, making his arousal painfully evident. You have to force your gaze elsewhere – to Suguru, who is staring almost shamelessly at Gojo, his brows creased in the middle as he thinks.

The silence is deafening, you can feel the tension rising between the three of you, vibrating off the surface of your skin and permeating the air itself. Suguru seems to have made his mind up, because he turns to you with an awfully familiar look on his face: desire.

"Thoughts, darling?" he asks, and your stomach flips.

There's no point in pretending that there aren't things wrong with how your mind still reels after Satoru's touch. This entire thing has been confusing and disorientating; you're confused about everything – your feelings, your career, your sexual desires – and now, in your current situation, you’re downright torn. And yet, despite that, despite all the questions swirling around in your mind, as soon as your eyes land on Satoru's again – you know you'd die without another taste of his pink glossed lips. That feeling, the desire, the forethought of how he'd pant and whine after you've fucked him senseless – you'll do anything to achieve it.

This doesn’t feel like work anymore, not with the way these two men are looking at you. The camera isn’t even rolling yet, and yet you find yourself ready to fuck them both to the brink of oblivion.

So, without so much as a second of hesitation you pull away from your train of thought and turn to press your lips to Suguru's in a searing kiss. The action, so swift, causes Gojo's breath to hitch in his throat at the sight. Suguru kisses you back, of course, the hand that isn't holding his envelope quickly makes its way to your waistline and pulls you flush against him, leaving nothing but your clothes between the both of you. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck as Gojo watches the two of you intently, gaze burning into the meeting of your lips. You can feel him watching you, his spectatorship dizzying, and you bite Suguru's bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the moan bubbling up your throat.

“Jeez, didn’t know this was a cuckolding shoot,” Satoru sounds whiney, threadbare with lust. “Though I wouldn’t mind that… another time maybe.”

You place a hand on the planes of Suguru’s chest as you disconnect your lips and turn your head to the white-haired pervert with heart-shaped pupils. Your grin is sweet, sultry - "another time, huh?"

You pull apart from Suguru and move past Gojo, making a point not to glance in his direction, until you're crawling onto the bed and turning to rest with your elbows propping you up. Both Suguru and Satoru standing, your observers - admirers, is a sight for sore eyes. The camera sits between them, propped up and set on you. In spite of it, you feel oddly at home. The same sweet excitement builds within you that you normally feel when it’s just you and Suguru at home. You didn't know the air could weigh so intimately in front of a camera.

It takes a moment of staring at you, jaw slack, for Satoru to finally spring into thought. He steps towards the camera, makes sure everything is looking good, and then clears his throat as he presses record. He almost looks nervous, and if he weren't so cocky in his usual demeanour you'd think he's getting cold feet. But you remember the way his eyes glossed when he pushed into you, how that confidence of his melted into carnal need in just one thrust. You know what you do to him, and god does it seem amplified tenfold with Suguru here.

And your black-haired lover must know it too, because the second Satoru makes a move to speak, Suguru cuts him off with a step towards him and a burning kiss pressed to his lips. Satoru's sound of alarm at Suguru's lips on his is almost enough to send you dizzy, but the true aphrodisiac is the sight of your lover taking charge with him; lips locked onto one another, the lewd noises they make as Suguru cups Satoru's face with one hand and scratches into the back of his hair with the other. Satoru's moans become louder and more desperate, as Suguru's tongue explores the recesses of his mouth, sucking hungrily upon the flesh of his lower lip. When the two break apart they're both breathing heavily, panting as they catch their breath. An undoubted look of longing is etched into every last one of their handsome features.

You feel your stomach roil with anticipation as you watch them, realising the camera is only pointed at you, capturing your wanton expression. But then, it snaps, and suddenly your lovers are pulling apart to instead lay their gaze on you, resting back on Satoru's wildly comfortable bed sheets with a lust-driven smile pulling at your lips.

“You’re a fucking lucky man, Suguru,” Satoru coos, blue eyes raking over you in appreciation. You’re hardly undressed, and yet you feel naked under his gaze. “Don’t know how you can do porn when you’ve got such a pretty thing waiting for you at home. It’d ruin my performance.”

“I know,” Suguru says plainly, truly. "You've never been good at multitasking, have you Satoru?"

"Harsh words," Satoru pouts, giving his best imitation of an overly dramatic frown. "I can multitask just fine, do you need me to prove it?"

Without a word further, he plucks the camera from its tripod and points it at Suguru. "For example," he sing-songs, "I can fuck and film at the same time."

“Can’t do it dressed,” you point out, to which both men turn to find you already stripping yourself of your clothes. Satoru turns the camera onto you, finding it a sin to not capture you revealing yourself with such delicate fingers. You look into the lens, eyes sultry as you’re known for doing, and wonder just how many people are going to slip their hands under their waistbands at the sight of you.

Once you’ve laid yourself bare, your naked skin feels static with the tension in the air, you reach your hands out and make grabby-hands at Satoru. “Pass the camera,” you hum. “It’s your turn.”

A glance between themselves, and then Satoru is leaning over the bed to slot the camera in your hands. It’s heavier than you’d thought it would be, but feels nice and cooling against your otherwise sweaty palm. Satoru’s fingers brush over yours as he hands it over, something electric stills the room for a moment, and then he pulls away with a cough.

He hadn’t realised that Suguru had fallen into place behind him, because when he steps backwards and his back hits your boyfriend's chest, Satoru gasps. You capture the pink blush that speckles at his cheeks, and the beautiful way in which Sugurus hands snake around his body to caress down his chest.

Suguru has always been gifted in the way of sparking intimacy. It’s why the porn he shoots is usually so artistic, he’s sensual. And Satoru, not for the first time, is falling victim to his seductive ways. The gentle traces of his fingers down Satoru’s chest is testament enough to just how narcotic Suguru’s touch is. When he reaches the hem of his shirt and starts lifting upwards, unwrapping his next meal, Satoru can’t help but lift his arms and help move the process along — he’s feeling beyond restless.

Now exposed, Satoru’s chest and torso are now at the mercy of Suguru’s searing touch. Each trail of his fingers down the white-haired man’s chest, each tweak over his surprisingly sensitive nipples, each rough kiss against the column of his neck, they all elicit the most pornographic moans from Satoru Gojo’s throat. You study them both through the camera’s screen, and watch as Suguru presses his lips against Satoru’s ear.

He speaks in hushed tones, enough so that you know the camera isn’t going to pick up on his words. You can hear them though, only just, they're low and sensual and entirely full of sin. "You're lucky I'm letting you fuck my girlfriend for a second time," he purrs. "You know, she hasn’t stopped thinking about your last shoot. We watched it together the other night, I matched your rhythm, let her pretend it was you. She’s obsessed."

You're almost embarrassed by the confession, a burn sheens your skin, but the way Satoru's eyes darken impossibly further calms you. Suguru grins, catching your gaze from over Satoru's shoulder, and presses a kiss to his earlobe. "It brought me back, too," he says. "To when I got you to myself. You remember our films, hm? You're just like she is."

Satoru nods, the tips of his ears turning redder. His breathing is shallow, ragged, needy; and in a split second he's turning around and returning his lips to Suguru's. Desperate hands lift at your boyfriend's own shirt, exposing his tattoo-laden skin underneath. His jeans soon follow, and then so do Satoru's pants.

For a moment it's just the two of them, all clothes bar their boxers discarded to the floor and hands exploring bare skin. The warmth of Satoru's fingers digging into his chest, his ribs, his hips, the hard planes of his body, their bodies pressed together as if to become one. Their lips connect again, hungrily, their teeth knocking together with every brush of tongues. Satoru takes Suguru's lower lip between his teeth and bites hard enough to elicit a choked groan from the back of Suguru's throat.

And when they part, it's obvious just how much heavier the air has gotten. Suguru turns your white-haired tryst and pushes him towards where you sit on the bed. "Move your ass before I fuck that too," he deadpans.

Satoru doesn't blush like you expected he would. Instead, he grins. "That would be a big change from last time, don't you think?" he sing-songs, eyebrows raised as he steps further towards the bed. "Or maybe you don't remember crying from how well I stretched you out, I sure do, all pretty and—"

This time Suguru does flush crimson, and you laugh out loud at this revelation. "I didn't know you bottomed for him," you shake the camera a little with your laughter, capturing the way Suguru glares at Satoru from beneath long eyelashes, "that's something I've got to see."

"Hah," Suguru climbs onto the bed and snatches the camera from you, settling on his knees as he points it down at your form. There, his fingers graze lightly against your bare skin, making you arch your back in anticipation. "Tough luck, pretty."

His black boxers are beyond tented, and he slips them off easily enough, allowing his cock to spring free, perfectly poised and ready for your hand. The sound of Suguru's moan as your fingers wrap around his length is paired with the shuffle of Satoru climbing onto the bed too. He hovers above you for a moment, watching you stroke Suguru through the camera, before taking it from him with a grin.

Satoru returns the camera to its stand and checks its positioning before climbing back onto the bed and settling himself just behind you. You turn to smile at him, and then gasp as his hands tentatively find your shoulders. He peers over you, to the sight of Suguru’s drooling cock in your hand, and presses a kiss to the skin just under your ear.

“You know I’m fucking obsessed with you, right?” He purrs, glancing down to your boyfriend's cock before pressing another kiss to your shoulder. “Haven’t stopped thinking about you. I dreamt of breaking you and your boyfriend up until I found out it was Sugu, here. Wanted you all to myself, pretty thing, but I think I’m happy enough to share now, because god do I want to see your lips wrapped around his cock.”

“Mm,” you hum, turning your head to meet his gaze. “You haven’t even kissed me yet, and you’re making demands?”

Satoru smiles, his lips glossy and so perfect you could cry. “I want to taste him on you.”

His words light a fire in your core that licks through your body, ravenous. You can't help but oblige at his words, returning your gaze to sweet Suguru before dipping your head down and pressing a chaste kiss to the weeping tip of his cock. Suguru and Satoru both inhale sharply when you do so. You wet your lips with your tongue and then meet his cock again, drawing lazy circles across his tip before closing your lips slowly, reverently around the shaft of Suguru's cock.

Satoru's hand pushes down a little on your shoulder, and you're forced forward onto your lover's length. Your moan betrays you and sends narcotic vibrations down his shaft, making Suguru grunt and buck his hips forward a little. Satoru, who remains behind you, gently takes hold of your hips and manoeuvres you into more of a doggy-style position — your fingers splayed over Suguru's thighs to try and find purchase as Satoru leans over you.

Gojo's chest presses against your back, skin-to-skin intimacy broken by the feverish kisses he presses to the back of your neck, down to your shoulder blades, your spine, His kisses become hotter, wetter, open-mouthed as he moves down to your waist, large hands playing with the flesh of your ass as he kisses a path down. You moan and shift against his grip, moving your hips in an effort to push yourself back against his boxer-clad erection, but Satoru only snaps you forward, and you choke a little as you're forced to take Suguru's cock even deeper down your throat.

"Fuck," Suguru hisses, pretty purple eyes meeting yours as you look up. Drool glosses his length, slick and hot and heavy against your tongue when he finally gives you a moment to breathe.

Your mouth immediately goes back to work again once your breathing steadies, hollowing out your cheeks and dragging him down, deeper, faster, more desperately. The receipt of pleasure etched into Suguru's tight-wound face is enough to spur on your own needs, but you nearly choke when Satoru Gojo bites into the fat of your ass. Your body arches up and you squirm and whine, but Satoru is relentless, licking over the indentations left behind as Suguru snaps his hips into your open mouth over and over again.

You barely have room to move before Satoru is pushing your knees apart with a strong hand, the heel of his palm firm against your ass as he spreads you open. He takes a moment, heavy breaths fan against your exposed slick, and you’re suddenly all too aware of yourself. You’d protest, tell him not to stare if your mouth wasn’t full with your heavy-lidded lover's cock. You don’t even know why you’re embarrassed — you’re a pornstar, your job is to lie subject to the most intimate of ogling.

Your thoughts melt into the bedsheets, however, when Satoru groans and connects his lips to your pussy. Stupid off the taste of you alone, he whines against your slick heat, enamoured. His tongue flicks over you, circling your clit repeatedly and making your insides burn. You moan, and it comes out muffled and breathless around Suguru's dick.

"You taste so fucking good," Satoru speaks against your cunt. One hand slips between your legs, running two fingers through your folds in collection of your arousal, whilst his other hand tugs down at his own boxers, pulling his cock free and growling against your pussy as he starts to stroke at himself. "Fuuuuuckkk..." He pushes two fingers into you, easy with just how wet you are, and curls them in tandem with each pump of his cock.

Each thrust of his fingers pushes you just that little bit further onto Suguru's length. And you're thanking god that he's there, because without his muscled thighs to hold onto, you fear you’d be fucked too dizzy to keep yourself upright. You figure you must look a mess now, hair mussed and eyes bleary and drool rolling down your chin and all over Suguru's pulsing cock.

You feel pathetic with how quickly your orgasm crests. Satoru must feel it too, how you clench around your fingers, the subtle tremor in your thighs, because his tongue only speeds up in its assault. He's still stroking himself, keeping you open and willing as he sucks your clit harshly. Once you're right at the brink, teetering off the edge of ecstasy, Suguru pulls out of your mouth and leans down to crash his lips against yours.

"Come," he orders into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. "Come for us, darling, come on now."

You're overwhelmed by Suguru's rakish lips over yours, and Satoru's relentless tongue over your sex. Before you can even try to present yourself for the cameras, you're cumming, hard. You writhe against Suguru, and your nails scrape across his thighs until you can hardly draw breath. The world slows down around you, leaving nothing but pleasure to consume.

"Holy shit," Satoru’s breath comes out in a hitched sort of laughter as he pulls back, not bothering to wipe away the sheen of your lust that coats his mouth and chin. “My head’s spinning, I think I’m in heaven. Do I still have a pulse?”

He makes a show of checking his pulse, despite the way you roll your eyes. You’re still coming down from your climax as Suguru peppers feather-light kisses over your face. Satoru, feeling more hungry than doting, brings his two fingers to his own mouth, licking them clean. Suguru catches sight of the action and gently pulls back from you, something knowing in his eyes.

You assume he’s going to redirect your head back to his cock, let you finish your job, but instead he tuts and nods his head to your shared tryst, who is still diligently working at tasting you some more on his fingers.

“Think someone’s a little pussydrunk,” Suguru grins, and you do too at the sight of Satoru Gojo so blatantly desperate for more. Your eyes drift down to his cock, long and hard and weeping with precum.

Though, you don’t want to neglect Suguru, so you turn back to him — “you didn’t finish,” you make a move to reach for his cock, still rock hard and achy-looking, but your lover shakes his head gently.

“Got other plans,” he nods subtly to Gojo. “How about we show our stalker here just how much better the real thing is?”

You grin, catching onto his drift, and watch over your shoulder as Satoru rolls his pretty blue eyes. “You know, I’ve had the real thing, from both of you.”

“You haven’t had both of us,” Suguru shrugs. “And I know you’ve fucked your fist to the thought of it. Don’t lie, or you won’t enjoy this as much as you could.”

Satoru’s loaded remark gets stuck in his throat as Suguru pulls away from you entirely, though not without a gentle kiss to your forehead first. He stands by the bed, rolls his shoulders and nods to Satoru — “go on,” he gestures to you, still on your hands and knees. “Taste me on her lips.”

Satoru would probably blush if he weren’t so dedicated to the promise of a taste, because he’s got a hand under your stomach and is flipping you onto your back with ease in only half a second. You sigh at the reprieve of the strain on your hands and knees, and revel in how soft Satoru’s mattress is, when he’s collapsing on top of you with a strangled growl and his lips are meeting yours.

It’s a strange thing, to taste both Satoru, yourself, and Suguru at the same time. You taste Satoru in the way he kisses, hungry and listless, with knocking teeth and exploratory tongues. You taste Suguru in the remnants of his cock in your mouth, the precum that has coated your tongue, mixed with your saliva that now mixes with Gojo’s. And you taste yourself glossed on Satoru’s lips; your climax, the buildup of pleasure he had gifted you with both his mouth and fingers.

A strange mix, maybe, but a perfect one nonetheless. You have to close your eyes to stop yourself from growing too dizzy, and also partly to stop yourself from worrying too hard — how were you meant to enjoy anything to its full potential now that you know how this tastes?

Satoru’s cock presses against the inside of your thigh; you can feel the gentle thrum of its pulse — a testament to his aching need. His arms box you in on either side, settled comfortably between your still-shaky legs. When he pulls back, a string of saliva connects your lips to his, and his eyes are darker than you remember.

“I need to be inside of you, need. You’re fuckin’... god I can’t think.”

As if by instinct, your legs part further, allowing him the access he so craves. It’s a fluid movement, the way he moves one hand down to direct his cock to your slick folds. He rubs himself against you, his tip kissing your clit teasingly. You suck in a shaky breath between parted lips, and when he doesn’t hurry up despite his desperation, you feel like you could cry.

Though, before a complaint can leave your lips, you're watching as Suguru joins you two on the bed, kneeling behind Satoru and running his long fingers gently down the white-haired man's bare back. Satoru's head falls forward at the touch, and as your boyfriends hand runs lower and lower on his back, you realise exactly where this is going.

"You're gonna fuck her good," Suguru purrs, graceful in his touch. "Because I'm going to help you -- that okay?" He reaches back up, brushing his knuckles from between his shoulder blades, down the curve of his spine until he reaches his tailbone.

Satoru's eyes are locked on yours as he answers your lover. "Yes," his exhale is beyond needy. "Please, god. Yes."

And from there, things move with practised ease. It feels normal to submit yourself, your body, to Satoru. As Suguru takes hold of either side of his waist and guides him into you, the stretch is searing. You remember just how hard it was to adjust to his size the first time, having to try and keep your face melted neutral for the cameras. You don't feel that same pressure now, despite Satoru still filming, and your nose scrunches up at the feeling of Satoru inside of you.

"You're..." you try, words stuck in your throat as Suguru pushes Satoru's hips into yours a little more. "Please."

Satoru takes control of the pace, his breath hot and heavy on your cheek, his body moving in sync. You moan as he starts thrusting slowly in and out, stretching every muscle in your body as you get used to the feeling. With every thrust, you feel him getting harder and deeper within you, and his mouth dips down to trail along the sensitive skin on your neck.

It's a narcotic, the way he fills you. He's longer than Suguru, though not quite as thick, but he reaches depths that aren't typical for you. As he sheathes himself deeper and deeper inside of you, with the help of Suguru's hands on his waist, You slowly become spineless; relaxing into the pleasure of his sweet push and pull.

Sweat beads at your skin as Satoru quickens the pace, pulling out and plunging back in again with unbridled whimpers as Suguru works on taking his fill. Your boyfriend, domineering though still gentle, starts working your tryst open with one of his fingers.

"Ah- fuck," Satoru's words are heady with need, the initial discomfort of Suguru's fingers pushing into his ass are quickly forgotten, replaced with a deep yearning for more sensation. It sends his hips snapping into yours, bottoming out inside of you at such depths you can't help but cry out. It's a symphony of wetness and gasps of air, each syllable punctuated by Satoru's frantic movements. Your body grows tighter and tighter around Satoru with every pass as he gets worked open so beautifully by Suguru.

Your mind is clouded by everything Satoru has done to you and by the sheer force of him filling you with his cock and all that comes with it. You're completely and utterly lost in the moment, consumed by Satoru, who is consumed by Suguru, who is consumed in the pleasure of serving you both in turn.

"More," Satoru is barely able to get the word out as he slams deeper and deeper inside of you. "Fuck, more."

And Suguru isn't one to deny a pretty thing like Satoru such pleasures; he's pulling his fingers out of him in seconds and replacing them with the head of his cock at his ass. Suguru is gentle, but unrelenting as he thrusts himself into Satoru in one fluid motion. The pressure is enough to prick tears at Satoru's pretty blue eyes, which you reach up and wipe away from underneath him.

A moment is shared, a chance for Satoru to breathe the best he can, before he's testing the waters and pushing back a little, onto Suguru's cock, before thrusting his hips forward, into you.

This is ecstasy incarnate. The two men seem to merge together, their bodies melting as they meet. Suguru fucks you through Satoru, each thrust into him is a thrust into you, into the both of you. It almost hurts, you'd wager, the way your whole body throbs in synchronization with theirs, the way Satoru moans as Suguru drives you both to insanity. It's a weird way to connect with your lover, but one that works nonetheless, the both of you seem to share an awful yearning for the man sandwiched between you, fucked mindless.

And then he's driving your entire being towards the edge, and you feel the orgasm coming on, the rush of blood to your head, your muscles tightening around Satoru. It's a strange feeling of being connected to something bigger than yourself, a system working in tandem with each other to chase climax, but it's a feeling you're quickly growing addicted to. It's warm, it's comforting, and most importantly, it's yours. This man right here, his body pressed tight between yours and Sugurus, is yours. Even if only for the early morning.

"Gonna cum," you whine, lips ghosting against Satoru's. He nods, eyes locked onto yours.

"M—fuck—me too, baby. God, you have to let me come inside of you, doll, can't deny me, please. You—"

"You better," Suguru cuts in, his voice biting from behind Satoru. He thrusts sharply into Satoru, sending him keening forward into you, pressing right into your sensitive g-spot as Suguru hits his prostate in a mirrored pleasure. "Wanna watch you claim her," he bears down, "gonna fill you up, you fill her — watch her face, Satoru. Watch what you do to her."

You gasp as Satoru's fingers dip down to rub frantic circles over your clit, pushing you closer and closer to orgasm with each knock of his hips into your, of Suguru's into his. the room is filled with a chorus of moans and whines and desperate pleas for more and more and more. You know you'll never recover from this level of arousal if you don't come soon, but before you can find purchase in your body and begin your descent into bliss, Suguru is first to come undone.

His hips snap forward into Satoru, head craning into his neck, biting down on the muscle of his shoulders for some sort of physical gag — ever the one to stifle those beautiful noises of his. And the feeling of being filled in such ravaging volumes must be enough to send Satoru over the edge, too, because he's knitting his eyebrows together and cumming ropes into you in only moments.

"Fuck," he whines, once again tears prick at his eyes, overwhelmed by the duality of his pleasure, of you and Suguru, so close to you but also never close enough. He wants to be one with you, a complete unit, bound by sex and soul and the sweet sounds of the most powerful orgasm he's ever had in his life.

You come in tandem with him, it's completely blinding. Your legs fall apart as you cry out, nails scraping across Satoru's bicep as the world melts away and the sensations start swirling about in your mind's eye and the last thing you register is Satoru collapsing forward, breathing raggedly into your ear.

You catch the salty flavour of him as you suck in a lungful of air and smile in response, fucked stupid and blissful and never ready to give this feeling up. Never ready to give anyone else this feeling- god, you already despise whoever gets to taste Satoru Gojo next.

Suguru has to pull out of Satoru slowly, and you wipe at his face with the pad of your thumb when it scrunches up in protest of the loss of Suguru’s stretch. Before he can truly call the scene over, though, Satoru leans down and presses the most gentle of kisses to your lips. A myriad of ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’s spill from his tongue as he does so, each word cut by a kiss to the expanse of your face.

And when he pulls out of you a sickening gush of his cum follows. It spills from your aching pussy and onto the bed sheets beneath you, though Satoru doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He swipes his finger through the mess he’s made of your sex, smiling when you hiss at just how sensitive you are, and brings his cum-coated finger back to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours.

Your stomach flips at the sight. Great, he’s gone and fucked you lovestruck.

“Satoru,” a clean voice cuts in. Your head constricts in your fucked out daze when you turn to see Suguru standing by the tripod, his eyebrows raised and pretty purple eyes beyond amused. “It’s not even fucking recording.”

Instead of being confused, Satoru looks sheepish. He flops down onto the bed next to you, eyes glossy and cheeks blushed pink. “I…. can explain? I think I’d rather die than share the two of you with the world. But I’d really die if I didn’t get my hands on you both.”

You meet your boyfriend's gaze. Something passes between you, something knowing. In a weird, probably unhealthy way, you both feel the exact same. This was never a scene for the cameras, anyway— not when such strong… feelings are involved.

“I’m not proposing marriage here,” Satoru huffs when he catches onto your shared gaze. “I just, you enjoyed it, right?”

You giggle from beside him, your sweat-soaked skin cool against the air. Suguru chimes in with his laughter, melodic and beautiful. He folds his arms and watches the two of you laid across the bed.

“Let’s get you both cleaned up, then,” Suguru hums. “I’m not fucking either of you again until we’ve shared a shower.

TAGLIST: @sugurubabe @fullbelieverheart @starrysho @meowforluv @ch3rryistheg @miizuzu @okayiamkassandra @inconcise @sexcults @hotgirlgoob @mistalli @ourfinalisation @graceloveslanadelrey @blessed-princesa @plinkuro @pe4rl-diver @sugojosgf @beachaddict48 @chimmysoftpaws @blendingcaramal @dongh9e @caramelised-onions @kyluskaye @sammywo @4evrglow @hiraethwa @stinkinstuffie @tomiokasecretlover @ser0t0nln @yuzu-ku @lagataprrr @dear-fifi @hel-lhound @kensqueent @sserafin @dabisdolly @zoroisminty @angelkazusstuff @reinam00n @kaeyakaikai @bunny416 @littletittygothgirl @glitterbitch1 @saccharine-nectarine

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darksvster · 2 months

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okay i was asked to post this on tumblr since i posted a mini essay about it on twitter so here it is, i added some more examples and elaborated on my points that i couldn't over twitter.

so, when i first watched episode 207 i thought it was weird how religious rhaenyra was, until ryan condal mentioned the cult imagery. now i think instead of the show making her paranoid and neurotic in the final arc, they're going to make her more of a cult leader figure.

i think rather than leaning into her paranoia and the idea of a "hysterical paranoid mother" after she loses her sons, they're going to have her drink her own kool-aid more and more. it's interesting that this is what emma and ryan discuss in this scene with the dragonseeds in the inside the episode.

i think it's interesting that instead of the show positioning her like "a leader amongst the smallfolk," this episode positions her in a darker light, like someone who is manipulating the people there for her own goals. and when vermithor turns on the bastards, she doesn't let them run, the guards keep them barricaded in.

she is literally enraptured by the fire in these scenes. now that she knows it's possible for others to claim the dragons, she has been vindicated and wants more. this is not a merciful queen who is reaching out a hand to the smallfolk, she's throwing stuff at the wall and seeing what sticks. after all, these are just smallfolk. bastards with no honor. ryan literally describes the scene as a ritual sacrifice.

and who do you conduct sacrifice for? the gods. but in this case, the gods the seven or the old gods, they aren't even just dragons, but the fact that rhaenyra sees herself in the dragons. she says as much in the literal pilot of the episode when viserys asks her what she sees when she looks at the dragons. she understands the power they wield.

she knows that their power lies in the dragons. but she doesn't reflect viserys' belief that they are a power that man never shouldn't have trifled with. she leans into the chaos and fire and blood of the dragons, we see that in the sowing, clearly.

rhaenyra inherited the worst of both viserys and daemon and that will lead to her madness. she's got viserys' strong belief in prophecy (one now exacerbated by her desperation).

we see that faith in the prophecy falter but never truly fade. rhaenyra has always taken is seriously, to the point that everything she's done this season is in response to the prophecy. her pacifism isn't just due to avoiding bloodshed. she makes it clear to jace that before plunging the realm into war she had to know there was no other option because of the burden of the prophecy.

even though daemon has never believed in prophecy or superstition. she's also got daemon's desire and lust for power and strength (something she confessed wanting specifically because daemon is a man when she was speaking to mysaria).

it's a great deconstruction of the chosen one archetype to have her drink this koolaid and believe herself the chosen one only to have that belief corrupt her. emma d'arcy speaks on this in their interview with gq when discussing rhaenyra's growing fanaticism.

I think something that has been happening for Rhaenyra throughout the series is a growing religious fanaticism. After her father’s death, there is this desire to be connected to him in some way. And losing him happens at the same moment as having her throne usurped. And so that thing that would have been such a direct connection to him is also stolen. So in lieu of that, there’s that searching [through] the histories. I think imagining that at some point her name will feature next to her father’s is in some way comforting, and I find it very moving to see a person who in grief has committed themselves to the history books. As the series goes on, I think we see her more and more invested in her faith. She returns to the old gods. I think all of these actions are in search of her right; the thing that she thought she had received from her father, she is looking for evidence again and again. And part of it, I’m sure, is a choice. I think sometimes in times of loss, we can choose the anchors that we are going to cling to, and her faith becomes one. But I think there’s a narcissism in it. I think her connection with her religion is about wanting to reinforce a divine right. And I think, looking at [episode] seven when this miracle takes place, and this man claims Seasmoke, I think she feels that it’s a gift from the gods. I think it’s what allows her to ride roughshod over Jace’s very legitimate concerns about his own status. I think it’s what allows her to stage a massacre, essentially. She feels that she is riding on the wings of her faith. But her faith, and her belief that she is the ruler that is supposed to sit on that throne, are completely enmeshed.

They continue:

What is going through Rhaenyra’s mind as she watches the Targaryen bastards be devoured and torched alive? I think she feels like a god. I think she feels super proud. I mean, I think it’s uncomfortable. I think there’s something, actually, also that ties into the religiosity — even being back in proximity to dragons, to that fire, is to somehow be living her birthright. To be soaking up the divine, somehow. And do you think that she feels as though the decision to essentially stage a massacre, as you say, is vindicated when the two new bastard dragonriders are found? Totally. Without a shadow of a doubt. I mean, it’s horrendous, but I think she is now this sort of emboldened fanatic, [and] I think she’s experiencing events within a far bigger timeline. She’s imagining the history books. And you know, what’s happening right in front of her is awful. But in 300-400 years, what will be documented is possibly a very short war; a huge civil war that was averted, that this was the first ruling queen, that this ruling Targaryen queen expanded the Targaryen’s ability to have dragons within their armoury.

emma's read on this supports what we see on screen when it comes to rhaenyra's newly found zealousness. the religious aspect could lead her to do things that might have been seen as atrocities by her. it could lead to mysaria abandoning her, her riders turning on her, and we would see more of that targ madness.

gods are mentioned several times in 207. first by addam, who says that the gods are calling him to greater things. rhaenyra has never been the extremely religious sort but, in this scene, she looks like she's had a moment of clarity.

importantly, rhaenyra doesn't know who addam's father is, or hugh's or ulf's. this is simply the first time in history that a non-targaryen (at least in her eyes) has claimed dragons. it's something that she believed impossible. it can feel like destiny to the desperate and she's been extremely desperate after losing daemon, rhaenys, and continuous loss after loss with no hope of recourse.

mysaria says that rhaenyra is lucky addam chose to bend the knee to her rather than himself. and her reply is that it is ordained. this religious vocabulary being used is intentional!

her complaint against the lowborn is that there is an ancient fealty from highborn houses. she essentially implies that bastards do not have honor. mysaria corrects her by pointing out that her legitimate half-brothers aegon and aemond aren't exactly delights, but that doesn't make rhaenyra see the light. instead she recognizes that there's fealty to be had from lowborn people too. the order of things have changed, as mysaria says, so she realizes that she can lift up people who have been historically stepped on and give power to the powerless, calling them her army of bastards.

but when jace calls this out, predicting that someone (perhaps hugh?) could lay claim to her throne if she legitimizes these bastards if not by name then by offering them the power of gods. obviously, jace's concern is real, his entire legitimacy lies on both viserys' past support and also the fact that he has a dragon of his own. if any bastard can claim one, what does that make him? but rhaenyra's response isn't logical. she believes that the throne is part of her and her son's destiny. their right.

for years, on some level, rhaenyra has believed that even though people have insulted her sons, they are full-blooded targaryens. she says herself that if she was a man she could father a dozen bastards, and as heir, she gives birth to three without hesitation. these aren't strongs or velaryons to her, her sons are targaryens.

but even when jace essentially begs his mother not to give commoners dragons, bringing up her past sins and pointing out his own struggle knowing that he's harwin strong's son, her response is somewhat cold. she says now that the gods have laid this in front of her and she has no choice.

the dragonkeepers call what she's doing blasphemy and note that it isn't the gods who brought the dragonseeds to her, but she herself has done that.

Dragonkeeper Elder: This is an abomination. You sent an Andal before a dragon. The judgment was delivered. Now you would send more. Rhaenyra: Ser Steffon Darklyn was the blood of the dragon. Dragonkeeper Elder: It was a blasphemy. He was no dragonlord. Neither are these. Rhaenyra: And yet the gods have set them before us. Dragonkeeper Elder: You have set them before yourself! The dragons are sacred; they are the last magic of Old Valyria in this sad world. They are not pieces on a board for the games of men. Our order will take no part in this.

to the dragonkeepers, she's using these bastards and dragons like chess pieces in her war. but to rhaenyra, who has seen addam claim seasmoke, it seems like this is a divine right — a sign from the gods. and that's proven again when hugh claims vermithor.

addam claiming seasmoke changed everything for her. she talks about claiming a dragon as a transformation, and, in many ways, this claiming has transformed her as well. she tells the dragonseeds that their purpose now is the end the hardships of war.

she paints a lovely image promising them peace at the end, but it is a wholly false image. with vermithor and silverwing now in her arsenal, there will be more suffering, more bloodshed. there are no promises of peace now that the war has been given to the dragons, not until everyone is dead. and if that happens, well, the gods willed it, not her.

in this moment, when she says "may the gods bless you" i have to wonder, is she talking about the seven? or the valyrian gods? or the dragons? i don't think she's fully in deep, but i can see the set up for a much darker storyline for rhaenyra rather than the book plot. every time her beliefs are proven or something impossible happens, that could reinforce her zealousness.

i have always said that rhaenyra is a combination of viserys and daemon, and i think that still. i think that she has both of their madnesses within her. as she loses more, the only thing she'll have to hold onto is that prophecy and the divine right she believes in now.

even this scene from the finale promo has over-the-top messiah, chosen apostles, last supper vibes. her saying "i have entrusted you with a power only few have known" as if she wasn't desperate for them and had no say in who the dragons chose. i love it!

honestly i'm totally here for it, i think it's an exciting direction to take. i don't think rhaenyra was always like this, she might have had the proclivity for it growing up under viserys' wing, but it's the war that's pushed her to this point. desperate people will turn to things like faith in order to guide them when the real world disappoints. i think it's a far more nuanced look at a sort of "madness".

and i'm here for the conflict that will happen with daemon as a result. i think daemon will be in direct opposition to this. he's NOT the type to follow cult leaders. this will be their conflict on top of the existing power struggles. this, to me, is far more interesting of a struggle as opposed to nettles causing romantic tension. this show has a tendency to lean away from harmful stereotypes about women. pitting woman against woman is one of them, as is the hysterical woman.

daemon dying for her could be a form of devotion, or perhaps even a command from a delusional rhaenyra who believes he will survive it. daemon could end up drinking the kool-aid too after the devastations of the war or simply realize that this is the last thing he can offer to someone who is too far gone to be saved.

THIS IS THE FIRE I WANT FOR RHAENYRA. this is the mad queen setup that we could have had! targ exceptionalism and completely going off the deep end as a way of coping with an unwinnable conflict. without viserys, without rhaenys, no one is there to temper the fire within her.

#house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd spoilers #hotd season 2 #hotd theories #meta #historically ryan and i have been on the same page but maybe this is one delulu too far #still at the very least i think that fanaticism is exciting #much better of a direction to go into than paranoia #mine

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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 3 months

Text

When They're Drunk| Maknae Line

Their drunk shenanigans Warnings: Mentioning of alcohol (obviously), Slight suggestion in Seungmin's

Hyungline

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Han|

You internally cringed as you saw another innocent pedestrian about to cross your path.

You reached out to grab Han before he started to head over but it was too late.

"Excuse me! Excuse me!" He said waving to the old man.

Bless the grandpa's heart as he adjusted his hearing aid and prepared to tune into Han.

"Baby leave him-"

"THIS IS MY GIRLFRIEND Y/N!! ISN'T SHE SO PRETTY!!" He exclaimed excitedly gesturing towards you. "And she's really nice and funny! And when she laughs too hard sometimes she snorts and sounds like a pig!" He shares, bouncing on his toes with a surprising amount of poise considering how plastered he was at the moment.

He spotted another couple walking and made his way over.

"OHMAGOSH HI! YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE TOGETHER! HAVE YOU SEEN MY GIRLFRIEND? WE'RE CUTE TOGETHER TOO!" He motions you over and you feel extremley embarassed as Han goes into detail about the uneven pitch you use when singing to the soundtracks of Disney movies while cleaning around the house and "How friggin adorable" it is.

This continues all the way to the guys dorms.

Every single time Han sees a person he just has to inform them that you are his girlfriend and he is completely head over heels for you.

You step into a convenient store just a block away from the house to pick up some hangover medicine, orange juice and Han's favorite brand of popsicles for the morning after a long night out.

He ends up wandering away for a second and you decide to pay for everything first and then go to find Han.

You find him sitting outside with the owners of the stores son, talking his ear off as he finished up an assignment you assumed was due in a few hours considering the lightening sky.

"See! Look! There she is! The girl I was telling you about? She's my girlfriend!"

The kid took a sip from his milk.

"I have a girlfriend too! Does your girlfriend like watching cartoons too?"

Han shakes his head. "My girlfriend is too smart for cartoons, she likes watching crime documentaries."

"Oh." The kid said ripping open a package of sweet bread and then tearing a piece off for Han. "Does she like playing Roblox."

Han nods. "Yeah sometimes she scams kids on there with one of my best friends!" He says as he bites into the bread. "Buh ond haima mahy fer!" He says with a full mouth.

You chuckle and go to grab your boyfriend. "Now what did you say?" You manage to laugh out as you pull him up.

"I said one day I'm gonna marry you!" He exclaimed as he waved bye to the kid.

"Are you now?"

"Yep! So then I can tell everyone you're my wife." He said his eyebrows wiggling.

"I'm hoping you mean you'll tell everyone I'm your wife when your sober-"

You don't even finish your sentence when you spot Han frolicking over towards his next victim of oversharing.

You resolve to not even try to stop him.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

Felix|

You tucked Felix in and placed a cold bottle of water next to him on the coffee table. Jisung was in the inflatable bed on the other side of the room passed out and snoring next to Jeongin - both of the boys falling asleep the minute they had hit their pillows. The other guys were sprawled out in various places in your childhood home. Chan sleeping on the cool tile floor at the entrance of the kitchen.

This was all due to the excessive amount of alcohol the boys had consumed. You had decided to bring them to your home in America, and they had seen a cute little Mexican restaurant while driving towards your home and wanted to eat there for dinner.

You immediately said yes because it had always been your favorite place to go. Birthdays, graduations, baby showers - your 21st birthday. The owner's son worked for a place that distributed tequila, so the number of margaritas - and a variety of them as well - that the restaurant sold was always a motivation to go.

And once the boys tried one, they couldn’t stop.

The amount of margaritas that had been downed by them was slightly concerning - especially considering they weren’t used to drinking cocktails with such high ABV.

Felix looked up at you and smiled softly, his freckles highlighted by the lamp next to the arm of the couch.

“You sleepy?” You whispered as you moved a few strands of hair out of your boyfriend’s face.

He nodded. “I have to go to sleep. So I can make you brownies tomorrow.”

You chuckled and stared lovingly at him, gently poking a few of his freckles.

“We can make them later in the day, you can sleep in.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t sleep in. I want to see everything.”

“We’ll be here for two weeks, Lix. And I already planned tomorrow as a rest day for everyone to get over jet lag. My mom is making brunch so you don’t have to get up until at least 12.”

Felix shakes his head. “No…I have to make brownies tomorrow.” He mumbles. He opens his brown eyes and smiles.

You laugh. “Why tomorrow?”

“Because I’m gonna marry you.” He says quietly. “ I’m gonna put your ring in a brownie. And I don't want to wait. So I have to do it tomorrow."

You paused the gentle caresses of his face and he closed his eyes his lips quivering softly.

“I ruined your surprise.” He says his voice breaking quietly. “Are you mad?” His warm brown eyes searched your face for any sign of anger; but it was void of anything but utter lovesickness.

You let out a breathless laugh. “No of course not. I can’t wait either.”

“Does that mean you'll say yes?” He asks quietly, his eyes getting droopy with sleep.

“Y-” You’re answer is interrupted by a loud snore coming from Seungmin and Hyunjin letting out a whimper.

“Y/N my head hurts, can I have medicine?” He whines quietly.

“Yes.” You answer- both to Hyunjin and your sleeping angel of a boyfriend.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

Seungmin|

"Seungmin get that glass away from your mouth." You groaned as you snatched a Spongebob shot glass from your boyfriend's hand. On your first date back home you had taken him to the mall and he had strolled into a store that had sold everything from t-shirts and hats to shot glasses and other...adult things.

"SeUnGmIn gEt tHat GlAsS aWay FrOm yOur MoUtH." He mocked as he sat on the couch and pouted.

"Babe you've had a lot to drink. And you have nothing in your stomach. You're a mess."

His reply was quick. "You're a mess because I'm not in your stomach."

You turn around and Seungmin had a confident smirk on his face, although what he just said didn't make too much sense realistically.

Seungmin was rarely ever flirty. When you had started your relationship you had told Seungmin you wished to stay abstinent until you married him. Which you were sure of doing. Seungmin had quickly agreed; but with that agreement he was always careful with the way he flirted and joked because he didn't wish to bring you any discomfort.

You chuckled and went a leand down in front of Seungmin.

"Hmm? Really?" You cooed.

Seungmin gave you a sultry look and pulled you on top of him. His lips made contact all along your face and he slowly brought them down to your jawline.

"Mmm." He continued kissing your neck and you smiled as you stroked his hair. "I love you so much. I want you so bad."

You laughed as Seungmin's kisses came to halt, and he quickly but carefully removed you from his lap and rushed to the bathroom.

You followed him soon after because you heard him wailing.

"Minnie baby whats wrong?" You whispered as you sat with him on the bathroom floor.

"I-I-I took ad-advantage of y-you. You wanted to-to wait and I-I..." He wasn't able to finish his sentence before he leaned over the toilet seat and started to heave.

Although it was barely useful since there wasn't much for him to actually throw up.

"Minnie baby you didn't take advantage of me. I fully took part in flirting with you too. And just because I don't want to have sex at the moment doesn't mean I don't want to flirt with you like that. I just don't want the full on intimacy yet."

You stroked Seungmin's hair, and waited for him to feel better.

"Just to make sure it's not because I'm ugly right?" He asked plainly looking at you dead in the eye.

You sputter out a laugh. "No of course not! I think you're so fine it actually concerning." Seungmin hmmed and rested his head against your chest. "Its just my personal preference to wait." You assured him.

He sighs and nods. "Okay just wanted to make sure." He stated as he lifted the Spongebob shot glass up to his mouth again quickly dowing the contents before you could tell him not to or snatch it way again.

"Kim Seungmin! I thought I told you no more tonight!" You said, referring to his drinking activties.

"You'll be telling me that a lot more once we're married." He pulls himself up on his two feet and wobbles slightly.

Then a shit eating grin plasters itself on his face.

"I'm just telling you right now I suck at listening."

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

Jeongin |

You walked into the guys' dorm and saw Jeongin crying on the ground.

“What's wrong?” You asked Felix as you slipped off your shoes, and into a pair of slippers Chan had purchased for you once you and the maknae of the group had started dating.

“He’s drunk.”

You hung up your coat and frowned. “He doesn’t usually get this way though.”

“That’s because he saw a picture of your boyfriend.” Minho commented, trying to suppress a laugh as he took a sip from his glass, and continued watching Jeongin flail on the ground with all the other boys.

“M-Mi-Minho Hyung s-stooooo-stoooo-sttooppp.” Jeongin barely managed to say through his choked sobs. You looked over at Chan in concern but he was crying from laughter, barely able to keep his phone in the same upright position as the rest of the members.

Jeongin was never going to live this down.

“But he's my boyfriend.? You say in confusion.

Hyunjin is on the ground with Jeongin scrolling through his photos.

“Look Jeongin- this is Y/N and her boyfriend at the award ceremony. He thanked her while he was on stage and she was sooooo happy about it. And she even joined him and his band for dinner.”

“Sh-she-she didddddd?” Jeongin cries out with a heartbreaking pout on his eyes focused on the picture Hyunjin was showing.

Of you and Jeongin.

“Yep. And they even shared a piece of cake. Specifically strawberry cheesecake.”

Jeongin starts to sniffle again, and then hiccup and the water works began once more.

“Y/N lovesss stra-strawb-berry cheesecakkeeeee.” He whined loudly, his sobs almost loud enough to overpower the laughter in the room.

You can’t help but laugh as you go to make your way towards your boyfriend, who has snot running down his face.

You wipe it away with the sleeve of a hoodie he gifted you and shush him.

"Innie its okay don’t cry.” You giggled as you cleaned up his face. His narrow eyes were puffy and sad but still unrealistically beautiful.

“But Y/N ha-has a boy-boy-boy-friendddddd. And he-he looks so so hand-ndsome she’ll never-never leave himmmm.” He cries out again, letting out a strangled sob that sounded strangely ogreish. "He-he's like SO se-sexy!" He chokes.

You laugh at Jeongin's unknowing drunk narcissism.

“Baby, you’re right. You are very handsome and sexy and I’ll never leave you.” You chuckled along with the rest of the guys as Jeongin’s cries suddenly came to an abrupt halt and he stared at you with watery eyes. He then turned towards Hyunjin and grabbed his phone, putting it close to his face, like a child with a tablet and he hiccuped.

“Oh wait that's me." He murmurs as he stares at the screen intently and zooming in on both of your smiling faces. "Y/N look at you you look so pretty!” He hiccuped once more as he turned Hyunjin’s phone towards you. A smile on his face - a complete 180 from 30 seconds ago.

The members were saving their videos.

“He’s never living that down.” Channie says as he slips his phone into his pocket.

You laugh and Jeongin continues to stare at the phone his lips turning downwards, the bottom one starting to tremble and Jeongin’s hiccups and breathes coming more rapidly.

“Baby whats wrong?” You asked as he clutched his hyung’s phone in his hand.

“I-I-I’m Y/N’s bo-boyfriend…b-b-but-but I’m not her h-husbanddddd.” He threw his arms around you and this time his cries were twice as loud as his fellow band members hit their record buttons again.

#stray kids reactions #skz reactions #skz x reader #skz imagines #jeongin #skz felix #lee felix #yang jeongin #skz seungmin #kim seungmin #skz jisung #han jisung

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cy-cyborg · 1 year

Text

What able bodied authors think I, an amputee and a wheelchair user, would want in a scifi setting:

Tech that can regenerate my old meat legs.

Robot legs that work just like meat legs and are functionally just meat legs but robot

Literally anything that would mean I don't have to use a wheelchair.

If I do need to use a wheelchair, make it fly or able to "walk me" upstairs

What I actually want:

Prosthetic covers that can change colour because I'm too indecisive to pick one colour/pattern for the next 5+ years.

A leg that I can turn off (seriously, my above knee prosthetic has no off switch... just... why?)

A leg that won't have to get refitted every time I gain or loose weight.

A wheelchair that I can teleport to me and legs I can teleport away when I'm too tired to keep walking. And vice versa.

In that same vein, legs I can teleport on instead of having to fiddle around with the sockets for half an hour.

Prosthetic feet that don't require me to wear shoes. F*ck shoes.

Actually accessible architecture, which means when I do want to use my wheelchair, it's not an issue.

Prosthetic legs with dragon-claw feet instead of boring human feet or just digigrade prosthetics that are just as functional as normal human-shaped ones.

A manual wheelchair with the option to lift my seat up like those scissor-lift things so I'm not eye-level with everyone's butt on public transport/so I can reach the top shelf by myself.

A prosthetic foot that lights up when it hits the ground like those children's shoes.

A few additions I remember seeing in the comments on my old account:

holographic prosthetic covers

transformers-style mobility aids that can fold into the shapes of different aids (e.g. a wheelchair that can fold into a cane)

prosthetic covers with pockets/hidden compartments (kind of surprised this isn't a thing already).

find my leg (like find my iphone, but for your legs when you haven't worn them in a while lol)

TLDR: Stop assuming every disabled person would want to be as close to "normal" as possible in your works. Some absolutely would and having options for them if fine, but I rarely see any examples of media showing those of us who don't. start letting amputees in your scifi works have fun with our prosthetics, fix the problems real amputees are already talking about instead of what you think are the issues and make your settings as a whole accessible!

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magz · 7 months

Text

Thread by ItsMaybeMadi on Twitter, on February 12, 2024 (source)

Quote:

Thread of information from Bisan's tiktok live on february 12th

more than 100 people were killed

dozens are still underground

the 100 that were confirmed dead are just those that were found

She is currently in Rafah

There's no other place to go

People are living in mosques

There is no internet connection

keep donating e-sims, she and a lot of others are using them

Boycott Israeli products

boycott brands supporting the Israeli regime

keep protesting

keep educating yourself

by doing this you are helping to change history

she's seen the people commenting her names on trending videos and she says it's very smart

"keep doing what you're doing"

keep pressuring your government to stop funding the genocide

the idf pretended to be nurses and women, and excavated three Palestinians looking for help

the bombing has not stopped

Donations Are Getting To The South, its not enough, but aid is getting there in very small amounts

he is not safe, no one in gaza is

she feels helpless and stuck in this "new reality"

"we are facing a genocide"

donate to UNRWA

she doesnt know if tiktok gifts are profitable for her, but she'll look into it

"the best thing you can give to an opressed group of people is to hear them, and to make them heard"

Her family is safe

She has faith, but she is very tired

Everyone is under tents

call your government and demand a ceasefire

there isn't enough food, so no matter how much money you have you can't eat

they have to wait to get canned food

She has launched a gofundme

(magz note: Even though the original goal was reached, it is way way below the actual need)

Her arm is better

"when everything is done, and everything is back to its glory, just visit gaza"

Q: "what are you doing to help your mental health?

A: "nothing, we can't"

She feels its important to stay where everything is happening to be the voice of the people

from week to week everything changes

(responding to someone asking what her name means) Bisan is the name of the most ancient city in the whole world and in Canaanite means "the home that is lived"

the situation has been complicated since 1948

1.5 million people are displaced

there isn't any bombing currently in Rafah, but there is in Khan Yunis

she wants to tour the world, and visit countries that supported palestine

Khan Yunis is still invaded

Keep educating yourself

end of thread (end quote)

unrwa.org

gazaesims.com

Bisan's TikTok account: tiktok.com/@wizard_bisan1

Extra: (different) Summary Instagram video about attack on Rafah by Bisan Odwa (wizard_bisan1) - posted february 13, 2024

#palestine #text post #o post #this was in drafts but #magz upload #on palestine

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pearlymel · 26 days

Text

Crush !

⋆⑅˚₊ Summery: telling them you have a crush on them despite being in a relationship together.

Includes: Aventurine, Veritas Ratio, Sunday, Blade, Boothill.

Warnings: gn! reader, sfw, suggestiveness, tiny bit of angst, mentions of being really injured in blade's, reader is drunk in Boothill's, sunday is a bit sick in his part, and veritas comforts reader.

↳ Aventurine.

Aventurine plops down on the couch beside you, and casually grabs a box from his pocket with a hum, he takes a necklace out of the box, running his fingers along the chain. “Let’s see how it looks on you.” he then leaned closer behind you to help you put the necklace on, his touch gentle on your skin as he clasps the necklace together, his hand grazes the nape of your neck.

You grin at him, "my love, the ultimate spoiler.”

Aventurine smirks back, wrapping his arms around your torso and pulling you into his lap. He rests his chin on your shoulder, giving you a playful grin. “And you love every minute of it,” he teases, tracing a finger along the necklace. “Look at you, all this gold hanging around your pretty little neck.”

You feel hot from his words, as in your skin is burning, but you are hot otherwise.

You reach up to trace the jewelry adorning your neck, "this is why i have a crush on you," you say sarcastically. “How do you know it’s not my charming personality?” he quips, pressing a kiss along the curve of your neck. He lifts a hand to gently brush your hair away, his lips slowly traveling towards your jaw. “Maybe you can’t resist how good I look when I win big…” he mumbles, placing another kiss on your skin.

You turn to face him, now sitting on his lap with your body sideways, your legs dangling off from the side of his thigh, and your arms around his neck, "Jokes aside," you whisper, "i do still have a fat crush on you despite us being together.”

He moves his lips near your ear, his voice lowering to a whisper. “And what exactly do you adore me for, hm?”

“You're charming..”

“That’s one,” he grins, tilting his head. He pulls you in even closer, “keep going,” he murmurs, lips just brushing against your ear.

What a tease.

“and pretty.”

“That’s two,” he muses, “Now, what more?”

You swallow thickly, “U-uh, and you're a gentleman with me.”

Aventurine chuckles at that. He lifts a hand up to your chin, tilting your head back so he can look at you. He lets his gaze wander over your face before meeting your eyes, “I can be gentlemanly,” he says, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “But the real question is… Do you want me to be?”

You lightly smack at his shoulder, "Hell yeah you better stay that way.” he laughs, “Or what?” he challenges. “You’ll kick my ass?”

“nope, I will kick you right on the balls.”

Aventurine cringes at that comment, “now that’s an effective threat,” he mutters, his hand instinctively moving to protect his crotch. He gives you a small pout. “I’ll be a good boy, I promise.”

And he earns a kiss on his cheek, “my sweet good boy.”

He rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. “You’ve got me wrapped around your finger,” he sighs. “Completely helpless against you.”

↳ Blade.

Blood isn't a sight Blade wasn't used to seeing, it doesn't faze him one bit when he sees the sight of it.

But what he isn't used seeing, is that same familiar crimson thick liquid dripping from you. And his head is a mess, hands searching frantically for the first aid kit before he's grabbing bandages to wrap them around your abdomen with quick precision, to the point he wasn't careful with how well you were handling it, he just wanted the blood to stop.

So reckless, he repeated in his mind, so fragile, i should've been there, i would've killed them all—

Your whimpers is what makes him freeze, your lose shaky hand around his wrist to stop him from tightening the bandage any further.

That's right, you feel pain.

His touch is immediately gentle, like he was knocked back into his senses as he silently gestures you to lean back so he could resume his work. Hands ever so delicate now, making sure to watch the way you breath, and glancing at your face to check if you were wincing in pain or not.

Thankfully, you're more relaxed now. You look down to catch a glimpse of him staring, and he looks away too fast.

The air is too silent, not that you mind, but you could lighten it up a bit.

“That hurted you know,” you mumble, raising an eyebrow when he stays silent, “do you even still love me?”

He lets out a sigh, there you go again.

“don't ask such questions,” he mutters, “you know the answer.”

You shrug, “yeah, but i want to hear it. It'll make me feel better, promise.” you try persuading him, even though you know you won't be able to make him say it. He'd rather just say it whenever it felt right, whenever you both were relaxing or cuddling together.

His fingers brush over the cloth around your abdomen, “i do.” He simply replies, and it's enough for you, for now.

“you're lucky I'm still at that crush stage,” you smile to yourself, leaning back while grabbing a cushion to hide your smile, “i still feel like i have a crush on you whenever i see you..” you mumble against the cottoned cushion.

Since you couldn't see his face from covering your face with the cushion; in your head, you think he's probably amused.

But in his head, he's literally confused, like there is dusty cogwheels in his head waiting for them to work.

Crush? Was that… a new word he doesn't know about?

Are you about to crush him? Or is he about to crush you?

No, he would never. And you would laugh at him if he asked you what the word even meant.

… he'll have to ask silver wolf or firefly about it later, hoping the girls wouldn't tease him too much about it.

For now, he rolls your shirt back down while caressing your body so carefully, silently grateful that you're still here with him.

↳ Boothill.

"Whoa, easy there, sunshine," Boothill steadied you, tightening his grip to keep you steady as you wobbled.

You were totally out of it.

“where we going?” You try to speak, leaning your body onto his side, "we're headin' back to the hotel, 'course. But you're not doin' a particularly great job at walkin', darlin'." He took a step forward, practically half supporting, half pulling you along.

“i hate walking.” You voice out your concerns while groaning in exhaustion. Boothill couldn't help but let out a snort, "well, unfortunately, gettin' to the hotel requires a bit of that," he responded coolly. "And I'd much rather you not end up flat on your face on the sidewalk," he added, his tone a scolding as he spares you a glance.

He was silently glad that the streets were mostly deserted at this time of night.

“i wanna piggyback, carry me please.”

"Are you even capable of climbin’ onto my back in your current state?”

"Get down," you demand, but also while giggling in the process.

He chuckled, finding your drunken antics both irritating and endearing before he lowered himself slowly to one knee. "Get on my back. But I swear, if you fall and take me down with you, I'm never givin' you another piggyback again.”

With some effort and a bit of wobbling, you manage to get yourself situated on his back. He braces his hands firmly under your knees, securing you in place.

"Comfortable?" he asks, as he stands up, "my lovely cowboy." You nuzzle onto his hair, you arms firm around his shoulders.

“my lovely and very drunk darlin’.” he teased, unable to resist a bit of gentle mockery. "I so have a crush on ya." You whisper while nuzzling your cheek on his shoulder, "is that so? You have a crush on me, huh? He responded, playing along with your obliviousness.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, darlin’, but you don’t need to have a crush on me… We’re already partners." He spoke tenderly as he continued to make his way toward the hotel.

"Can't i still crush on my partner?”

"Of course you can, sweet thing," he reassured you. "You can crush on me as much as you like." He paused for a moment before adding, "Just don’t be doin’ any crushin’ on no other cowboys while you're at it.”

You shake your head, a pout forming on your lips, “never.”

He smiled, feeling a sense of contentment as you clung to him so endearingly. "Good, cause I don't share, you hear? You're all mine.”

↳ Sunday.

“i told you to bring an umbrella.” You state in worry, lips pressed into a thin line when you helped him out of his soaked clothes while patting him dry.

Sunday watched with no small amount of amusement as his wings started to flutter involuntarily, doing their best to shake off the droplets of rain from them.

he tried reassuring you that he was okay despite you worrying, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips when you started daubing his face and wings with the towel, "such an attentive spouse i have." He observed you, the tone of his voice lighthearted.

“you're going to get sick.”

Sunday's amile slowly faded as you brought your hand up to his forehead, his eyes watching as you checked for signs of fever. He had no intentions of making you worry, so he reached up to put a hand over yours, gently pulling your hand away from his forehead.

"ah, it's just a bit warm." he tried to reassure you for the nth time. "i'm quite certain i'm not falling ill.”

And how he wishes his words were true. He stirred gently when he felt a damp cold towel caressing his forehead and neck, his eyes slowly opening in response to your touch as he tried to sit up.

“you're burning, it's okay. Go back to sleep.” You whisper, not stopping one bit from removing the towel, dumping it in cold water then squeezing it to continue your ministrations.

He was a light sleeper, so it didn't take much to wake him up. he grumbled incoherently, feeling his head ache dully. "i am?" he questioned. he didn't feel particularly hot, but then again, he wasn't sure he could trust his own judgment, considering that he was slightly drowsy.

Sunday's eyes followed you as you continued to wipe his body, feeling you press the cool towel into his skin. his expression turned guilty. "i assure you i'm fine, love," he tried to reassure you once again, but even he sounded unconvinced by his own words.

“come here.” He pulled you closer to him, to lean his forehead on your shoulder as you wiped the back of his neck, making him shudder.

"Remember when we were still in the early stages of our relationship? I used to wonder what your wings felt like.” you whisper to him, to try and make him feel at ease at least.

sunday chuckled softly as you spoke, his eyes opening slightly to look at you. he remembered your curiosity quite well. you had always been fascinated by them, and you'd ask him lots of questions and run your hands over them to get a feel of the texture.

"yes, i remember." he replied, his voice still a bit weaker than usual from the illness. "you'd always ask to touch them. it was quite endearing, actually.”

“i used to have the biggest crush on you,” you smile to yourself, “and i still do get that tingly feeling whenever i see you.”

He lifted his face up to meet your gaze, and you lean closer to press a kiss on his cheek, “and i still have eyes only for you, my love.”

You gently urge him to lay back down, so you could continue taking care of him.

“Get some rest, honey.” You say quietly, pressing another kiss to his forehead.

“will you stay here with me?”

“until you get better.”

Sunday let out a small hum of approval in response, the simple reassurance you gave him enough to ease his concerns, "thank you.”

↳ Veritas Ratio.

Ratio returned from his daily obligations, a stack of books and papers in one hand, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He entered the bedroom and caught sight of you, still laid out on the bed.

He smiled to himself before he set his pile of work down on the nearby desk. He walked over to the bed and perched himself on the edge. "What’s this? Still moping in bed?" he asked, his tone gently teasing.

"No.." you shake your head, sitting up on the bed to quickly wipe your face, although you knew there was still redness to your eyes. "Was just being stupid.”

He took in the sight of your slightly puffy eyes. He could tell there was something more to your mood than simple boredom.

"You don’t look like you’ve been just being ‘stupid’," he observed, his tone softening. "Is there something else bothering you?”

"I don't know, just feels like everyone hates me." You mumble, lowering your head and sighing tiredly while pinching your nose to prevent the emotions to stir again. Ratio hated seeing you in so much pain, so much self-doubt.

"You know that’s not true," he said, his voice a bit firmer now. "Why would you think everyone hates you?”

“don't know. Who even genuinely likes me?”

He let out a frustrated sigh and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. "I like you," he stated firmly, "I love you. And I’m sure there are other people in your life who do as well.”

He then cupped your face in his hands and tilted your head up to look at him, his eyes searching yours intently. "Listen to me," he started, "You’re a wonderful person, and you deserve happiness and love just like anyone else. I know it’s hard to believe when you’re feeling low, but trust me when I say that I do love you.”

You try to laugh, “thank you.”

"You don’t have to thank me. I’m just doing what any decent partner would do.”

Your smile widens, your hands squeezing his sides, “thank you for loving my stupid self.”

He sighed, "first of all, you’re not stupid," he stared at you intently, making sure you got the message, "And second, it’s not a chore or a burden to love you. It’s one of the most effortless things I’ve ever done in my life.”

"Ugh, stop." You huff out, now sinking your face into his chest while trying not to laugh too much, "this is why i still crush on you so much.”

Ratio raised an eyebrow, pretending to be cool about it when he's probably panicking inside, “oh, do you now?” he would then rest his chin on top of your head, relieved that you were feeling much better. "You should know how much I care about you, how much I love you. How difficult it is to keep my hands off of you sometimes."

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ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral · 4 months

Text

Time for another Merlin au!

In this au, in season 5, Camelot is cursed by Morgana to have all of their food and crops wither and die. The kingdom cannot survive under the curse for long and Arthur knows it, so he desperately visits the druids, whom he's made peace with, for magical assistance in lifting the curse. Merlin, of course, is working in secret to lift the curse, but he's lacking the exact spell needed to reverse the curse. He's tried spells that should work similarly to the reversal spell, but he's had no luck. So, he tries reaching out to the druids mentally for assistance while Arthur is meeting with them.

To Arthur, the druids inform him that the only way to lift such a dark and powerful curse is to perform a powerful ritual to call upon the powers of Emrys, the god of magic. However, the druids warn him, while they are certain that Emrys will come to his aid, the ritual comes with a cost. Arthur tells them that he would gladly give up his life for Camelot in order to complete the ritual, but the druids quickly tell him that a blood sacrifice isn't necessary. Instead, whoever successfully performs the ritual will then be tied to Emrys as his familiar in the mortal world.

When Arthur looks confused about what exactly a familiar is, the druids tell him that Emrys's familiar is someone who is bound by Emrys's will and has a mental connection to Emrys. The druids compare it to being Emrys's servant, carrying out his orders in the mortal world while Emrys is off doing his very powerful godly duties.

Arthur clenches his jaw, looking tense as he processed what he had just been told. All of the knights that they had taken with them are quick to volunteer themselves for the ritual, ready to hand themselves over to the no-doubt evil and nefarious god of magic. (To someone in Camelot who grew up under the purge, the old religion's god of magic must be the devil, their absolute worst nightmare.)

Merlin, meanwhile, is sitting next to Arthur and is simultaneously sweating bullets and is more confused than he's ever been in his entire life. Because what "godly duties" was he supposed to be fulfilling?? And how come he's never heard about a ritual to give him a familiar??

And more importantly, he's been TRYING to lift the curse for the past week, and nothing's worked! How the hell is some ritual to "call upon his power" work to break the curse when his own power has already proven to be useless here?!

However, the druids mentally tell Merlin that the binding ritual would grant Merlin the power necessary to fulfill the wishes of whoever was performing it. In this case, the ritual would grant Merlin the power to lift the curse.

For Merlin, this sounds like a perfect plan. Merlin himself would perform the ritual, lift the curse, and not have to deal with getting a new familiar! Because really, having a familiar sounded like more trouble than it was worth, and whoever became his familiar would surely discover that Merlin is Emrys, having a mental connection and all.

However, before Merlin could request the instructions for the ritual and come up with some way to distract Arthur, Arthur made up his mind. Arthur nobly tells his knights that he alone will take up this burden. Camelot is his to protect, and if he must turn himself over in servitude to the god of magic, then so be it. If he's called by Emrys to leave Camelot, then the crown goes to Gwen, who he knows will rule honorably in his stead. Arthur then turns to the druids and demands to be taken through the ritual.

Merlin, still next to Arthur, is just trying not to pull his hair out at this point because his perfect plan just got shot to hell. Merlin tries to mentally tell the druids to refuse Arthur's demands, but Arthur isn't taking no for an answer. Merlin then tries to convince Arthur to stop this, his kingdom needs him, and that Merlin should be the one to do it since he's the one who's already a servant anyway.

Arthur just looks sadly at Merlin and thanks him before ordering the knights to leave and take Merlin with them. Arthur wants to spare his friends the pain of seeing him hand himself over to Emrys. So, the knights leave the druid camp, dragging a kicking and screaming Merlin with them.

Poor Merlin, the knights all think, so loyal to Arthur. It must hurt the manservant so deeply to see Arthur sacrifice himself like this. Meanwhile, Merlin is freaking out because if Arthur becomes his familiar, which is already messed up in so many ways, there's absolutely no way that Merlin's going to be able to keep his magic a secret!

Meanwhile, the druids prepare Arthur and guide him through the ritual. They put a scented oil in his hair that's supposed to make him more pleasing to Emrys, but Arthur swears that it smells exactly like the calming oil that Merlin gives him after a restless day. They draw symbols on his armor with a mixture of berry paste and ash, and then finish their preparations by putting a woven crown of flowers on his head. Then, they have him perform the ritual itself, which has him kneel before an alter dedicated to Emrys (which rankles Arthur's pride just a bit) and reciting a prayer calling for help before he kisses the edge of the alter and recites his request for Emrys: to lift the curse placed upon Camelot's land and return its previous prosperity to it.

Immediately after Arthur finishes stating his request, a bright golden light emerges from the space right above the alter. At the very same moment, unbeknownst to any of the knights, Merlin's eyes flash a blinding gold. The light above the alter gently floats to the ground and sinks into the earth at Arthur's feet, and with a bright flash, the light races off in every direction, and every plant the light comes into contact with flourishes. Within only a few minutes, all of Camelot's crops are thriving once more, and the kingdom is saved.

After a few minutes had passed, the small pass of golden light rose out from the earth and moved closer to where Arthur stood, unmoving. Slowly, the ball moved closer to Arthur's body, and Arthur found that he couldn't move. Arthur flinched when the ball came into contact with his chest, but to his shock, it didn't hurt. No, the ball of light only felt warm, like the cozy warmth of his chambers with a fire roaring in his fireplace on a cold night. However, the little ball's movement didn't stop at Arthur's chest. Instead, the light diffused itself all over Arthur's body, until all of his body was covered in the golden light. Arthur waited for the pain to start at any moment, for his free will to be stripped away and for the god of magic to finally enact his revenge against the son of Uther Pendragon, but there was no pain.

After only a few moments, the light on Arthur's skin dimmed, leaving Arthur looking as he always did. Arthur didn't feel any different either. There was no godly voice booming in his head, and he could still move his body of his own volition, so Emrys wasn't controlling him like a puppet. If there's anything different, it's that there's a slight...buzzing in the back of his head.

The druids come to collect Arthur and take him back to his knights, telling him how grateful they are that Arthur has healed the land. Arthur accepts their thanks and makes his way back to Merlin and the knights, who are very relieved to see Arthur unharmed and acting like himself.

Arthur's slightly on edge for the whole ride back to Camelot, but to his great relief, nothing happens. That is, until a group of bandits decide to attack.

Because Arthur can physically SEE magic rising up to subtly fight the bandits. It rises from the earth and dances through the air as golden dust and golden light, and everywhere it goes, bandits fall or trip or drop their weapons, giving Camelot's knights the advantage. Arthur's so mesmerized by what he sees that he loses focus on the fight. That is, until the buzzing in his head roars and forms itself into words: BEHIND YOU!

Before he's even aware of what his body is doing, Arthur turns around and stabs the bandit that had crept up behind him. And it's then that Arthur realizes how much trouble he's in.

He's got the god of magic constantly buzzing in his head now, and Emrys is actively influencing the world around Arthur, and Arthur can't get away from it.

Thankfully, Emrys doesn't speak to him much, but what the god lacks in words, he makes up for in actions. Arthur can see how Emrys puts spells on his armor, his weapons, his chambers, and even his baths! Arthur has almost has a heart attack every time he sees the now-familiar golden dust float past people he cares about, getting close enough to touch them. The worst of it, by far, is around Merlin. The golden dust twirls and dances around Merlin, never letting Arthur see his friend without magic curled around him.

Arthur knows that it's a threat from Emrys to keep him in line, knows that the gold that swirls around Merlin could easily turn into weapons that could kill Merlin at a moment's notice, so Arthur grits his teeth and performs whatever tasks Emrys requires of him (which is normally small things like "don't eat that, it's poisoned" or "don't trust this visiting noble"). Arthur will play his part for now, but he will find a way to ensure his friends' protection from this nefarious god!

I'm going to end here, since I feel like this has already gone on for too long! I have lots of ideas revolving around rituals and Merlin's place as the god of magic, so expect at least two more au's that start similarly, but go in completely different directions!

Thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

EDIT: You can find part two of this au here!

#merlin #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #merlin au #god merlin #emrys #merlin prompts

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radiance1 · 11 months

Text

The Justice League summon the Ghost King for aid in something.

What they got wasn't the ghost king.

What they got was a boy standing inside of the circle, a mug held in one hand and eyes closed as if he just got out of bed.

"Father isn't," The boy yawned, reaching a hand under his pajama shirt to scratch at his stomach. "Available right now. You can try again in the next, uh. I don't know? Eon or something?"

The boy took a sip from his mug, his face instantly turning sour as he removed the mug from his lips at swallowed, he looked down at his drink with squinted eyes as he reached a hand up to scratch at his black hair. "Of all the thing he could've given me, did it have to be lemon tea? He didn't even add sugar or milk, the fruitloop."

The boy groaned.

The boy then turned his squinted gaze towards them, before blinking rapidly and putting his hand in his pants pocket. "Ooookay, I will admit." He averted his eyes to the shield, a bit of awkwardness leaking into his body language. "You weren't who I expect to be, you know." He gestured with the hand hold the mug. "Summoning an eldritch being of death from beyond the veil and all that, but hey!" He shrugged. "You're the Justice League so you can do that... probably."

The boy took another sip, face turning sour as he swallowed. "Ancients, I really need to ask for sugar next time. Anywho," The boy then stares back at them.

"Are you going to send me back home or what?"

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #I remembered seeing those Danny gets summoned but as human posts and decided #I wanted to do it too #ghost prince danny #Vlad is better here #At least it's like implied #The ghost king is unavailable #Next best thing is the ghost prince

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dcxdpdabbles · 11 months

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de-aged Danny is one of my babies,

Shit hits the fan with the giw and Danny is super injured and Clockwork has to mess with some things so Danny doesn’t return to his core being vulnerable and sends him millions of miles away to Gotham and in the process Danny becomes 6/10 years old and is weeks healed due to being smaller and costing less ectoplasm but is still achy, Danny is steered to Jason’s apartment where he just got off his shift and then his is the twist! Jason is mute due to an accident with the joker and Batman (batman unintentionally causing his muteness) and out of reflex of a child on his counter hand first into a box of Cheerios let’s put a exasperated noise of flames and a lighter and Danny responds with his own spark of electricity and Jason is shocked (hehe) that Danny can understand and even communicate can he just lets out everything he’s been doing since “holy shit I can talk to someone normally” and then he realizes this child has the same scar as him and is pissed but Danny calms him down and calms the pits and he’s like “okay you’re mine now shit- I’m like Bruce- no. I’ll think about this later-“ Danny is super cute and Jason is having a field day with parent hood and Jason gives Danny a comm for when he goes out but he’s only allowed to speak in ghost speak and the rest are confused when Jason sprints away and they follow to see Danny in Jason’s arms being lulled to sleep with a man on the ground knocked out or dead who knows not Jason because it was shoot & punch and ask questions later and then Danny says sleepily “Oh your daddy’s brothers, hi” like it’s normal to meet family in this situation and Jason puts him to bed before signing “Say anything to Bruce and you will never be called uncle or attend his birthday in your life.”

Bruce only finds out when Jason some how ends up super injured and can’t sign and Danny translates (no editing just straight he said fucking hell) and introduces himself as Danny Todd, Bruce privately cried a little

The Waynes knew that Jason had become far more distant since his accident. Bruce blamed himself, but in the end, it was Joker all over again.

The family had been on other missions when a distress call from Bruce came in. They all raced to give aid- if it was Bruce calling, then you know it was a huge deal- only to find their father figure pressing his hands desperately to the neck of a bleeding Jason.

The Joker had sliced his neck in one of his sick games.

They were able to get him to medical aid and save his life, but the damage to his vocal cords had been too severe. Jason would never be able to speak again.

Since then, Jason has kept his distance. The whole family was fluent in sign language- one of the first of many languages Bruce had them learn for their Bat training- but it only helped them if Jason wanted to sign around them.

It felt like the second oldest was actively trying to avoid the acknowledgment of his injury. Little by little, Jason began to drift away from the family. He no longer arrived early for family dinners to help Alfred cook, he did not say for games or movies afterward, he found excuses to not hang out with the family members, and even after patrol, he left as soon as he finished.

Even texts were becoming less and less frequent. The Wayne children attempt to surprise visit him just so they can make sure he isn't alone until Jason starts jumping between safe houses.

Jason is isolating himself, and the Waynes are alarmed by the way he is retreating into himself. This continued for months, and nothing they did worked to help him.

Despite the desperate attempts to connect to him, Jason was too far gone to be reached. He did not die, but they lost him all the same.

Then, one day, out of the blue, Jason's distance changed. Yes, he was still not coming around the family much, but the sadness on his shoulders loosened.

His demeanor was still tired, but not as if his soul was exhausted. He still ran off after patrol, but instead of a shameful shuffle, his stride was more excited.

No one knew why, but Wyanes breathed a sigh of relief at the change.

They also had some theories.

"He has a lover!" Dick exclaims after watching Jason run off the second Bruce dismisses them. He had stopped to clean himself up a little before riding out as Jason, the civilian. "He's going to go get ready for a hot date."

"He found a new book series." Duke offered as Jason seemed to be writing in a little notebook. He was thoughtful and dazed as he wrote like whatever notes he took were something he would revisit again. "He is writing fanfiction again."

"His crime empire is being threatened, so he is slowly picking off traitors," Tim proposed after seeing Jason upgrade his security to his home and safe houses. He even added a new line to the cons so that he could listen to his home like a Bat version of a baby monitor. "Doing it quick and quietly to not let them escape."

"He is going back to school!" Steph announced happily when she saw him at the store buying school supplies. "He can finally get that diploma he has always wanted!"

"He has found a new passion for a hobby," Damian countered after seeing Jason look over his old art easel. Jason had asked Damian what he recommended for a beginner. "It's allowing him to have an outlet in a creative, healthy manner."

"He has fallen for a book character again and can't tell the difference between reality and Fiction." Bruce fretted after seeing Jason chuckle to himself at post-it notes that had little hearts in his lunch box. They were signed by Jason's favorite characters in a writing that was reasonably similar to Jason's.

Cass only smiled knowingly, but she always seemed to know more of what was happening than the rest, no matter the situation.

The only other person who knew more than her was Alfred, but that man would never share secrets with anyone for any reason.

Jason seemed unaware of their theories or concerns (Bruce) since he was always busy doing whatever he was doing. It got to the point they decided to follow him about, only becoming more confused when Jason visited places like pre-schools and kid-friendly parks around the city.

It didn't help that Jason caught on to the fact he was being followed, leading the Bats all over the city to random locations and had them fumbling about what was a natural destination and what was retaliation for the trailing.

Then, one night, while the Bats were meeting up on a rooftop for some briefing and a breather, the new con line sprung to life, scaring everyone connected to it out of their skins.

"There is a strange man in the house!" A voice screeched. A young voice, one that didn't even sound like it belonged to someone who had reached their double digits.

At once, Jason jumped from his slouched-over position near the building's roof door and flung himself over the edge. His grabbing hook hissed as the large man threw himself across the rooftops frantically.

Stunned, the Bats watched him go, unsure of what was happening, until the young voice spoke again, a soft whisper. "He is in the hall- he has a knife."

A strange crackle of fire and electricity was heard over the con, and it took them all a moment to realize that it had come from Jason. The child- a boy based on the voice- responded with a slight tremble. "I'm hiding in my closet. I'm scared."

The words of a distressed child kickstart their brains, and everyone snaps to attention.

"Oracle, where is the signal originating from?" Bruce snaps, throwing himself over the edge to follow Jason. The rest of the family is right behind him.

"Jason's safe house in Uptown Gotham," Babs responds instantly with the accompanying clicking of her keyboard. She sucks a breath through her teeth in a pained hiss. "B, the address for Jason's safe house... it's connected to Upper Smiles Preschool for Danny Todd. Jason is marked as his father."

There is ice in everyone's veins when she says that as Danny- Jason's son- lets out a choked sob, then a scream that horrifies everyone as they try to run faster. "He found me! Help! Help! Daddy! Help!"

A boom goes off across the communicator, and they know Jason is responsible for the nose, but there is no explosion. Not that it matters.

They, too, understand what Jason meant by the strange noise he made- it's a protective rage that someone would dare to even think of harming one of their own.

Every Wayne pushes themselves past their limits, unwilling to let themselves be too late.

"Hold on, sweetheart, help is on the way. Hit him with anything around you until it gets there." Babs tells him, her voice cracking as Danny cries, and a man yelling can be heard.

"You little shit!" An unknown roars, and everyone hates him instantly. "I'll teach you some fucking manners!"

"Let me go! Let me go!"

They are ten minutes out even when they drop into the batmobile and company bikes. Jason is only eight. But every second feels like a lifetime as they listen to what Danny is going through.

There are sounds of struggles, of a tiny voice screaming and crying, then- gunshots.

Two loud and clear gunshots. Then silence, the kind that makes even a grave loud.

Bruce's grip on the steering wheel tightens to the point of pain, and everyone is in no better state. The silence over the con is just as devastating as Jason's mournful crackle, like a dying fire.

No. No gods, no, please don't let this mean Danny is-

"Not to worry, dear child, I am here." Alfred's warm, soothing voice is heard, and everyone almost collapses in relief. Danny's cries are muffled like his face is pressed against something as Alfred coos. "It's alright. It's alright, you're safe now. Shh"

Jason makes a sound similar to thunder.

"Yes, Master Jason, I was in the neighborhood. I wanted to bring my great-grandson a little present and saw this healthen mucking about where he does not belong. I shall be moving Danny to the manor."

It's a command that does not allow any arguing, but no one dares to say anything as they collectively change direction to the manor. Patrol for the night has been canceled.

They had a new little addition to the family that needed them more than ever. Now that they knew about him, they would never allow Jason to keep Danny away from them.

Later in the night, after hugs, kisses, and greetings, Danny is painting alongside Damian. He standing on a small stool to reach the easel, wearing an apron with the Batman symbol, and is smiling like there are no troubles in the world.

Everyone's heart melts when he asks them if they can sit still for him to paint a family portrait. He isn't Jason's by blood, but that has hardly mattered to a family such as the Waynes.

All they need to know is that Danny was found wandering around Jason's old safe house, speaking in the strange sounds that Jason could make, and was the cause for the second oldest to regain his joy of life.

All that mattered was that tiny, little six-year-old Danny Todd was one of theirs, and they would love him with all their hearts.

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Red ParentHood #Danny is deaged #He doesn't have his memories of being a teen #Jason and Danny use Ghost Speak which is the sound related to their deaths to communicate #tw: child endangerment #tw: gun mention #Alfred once again the MVP #The Wayne's pov of Jason

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