#although the cast always seems to be having fun

[redladydeath]

@storm-ismyusername

The idea that the grandparents are so awful that Sarah & Thomas aren’t horrified when their Dad murders them says SO MUCH. (I guess the kids now know Very Clearly what their Dad went through and how he ended up like that.)

Welllll, it's less that their grandparents were completely horrible to them and more the desensitization to death that all citizens of Hell go through, plus the relief of no longer being stuck in that environment. Tom and Sarah's time with them wasn't torturous, just physically and emotionally exhausting. It was such a sharp pivot from being normal suburban kids to going to Hell and having to work for everything (even their relatives' affection) that any sort of return to normalcy was welcome, even if it came through violent means.

How would Vox find out about this situation? How ENRAGED would Vox be when he found out his parents were reenacting his childhood trauma on his kids?

Honestly, it wouldn't be hard for Vox to find out. Once he starts to break into the entertainment industry, it'd be easy to just happen upon or hear about a little theater that has an act that seems a bit too familiar to him and whoops, it's murder time. Tbh, despite his bad experience with it, Vox actually likes theater (or at least appreciates the skill/work that goes into live performances), so he could've feasibly realized what was going on halfway through watching the show.

Vox is a weird, hypocritical guy. I don't think he's against child labor on principle or would even admit that his own childhood was abusive, but ever since they were born, he's been very adamant about his own kids having "normal" childhoods. Part of it is his obsession with social status/norms (he needs to be The Best = society says that children should grow up in actual homes and shouldn't have to work = his children should grow up in an actual house and shouldn't have to work), but there's also a more human part of him that freaks the fuck out at the idea of his kids having to grow up like he did. He had a visceral internal reaction to his dad half-jokingly asking if he was going to get Tommy into the family business mere hours after he was born. He can't even articulate why that interaction gave him a mini-panic attack mixed with rage– it just did. So actually watching that fear be realized despite his best efforts to prevent it... it's not pretty.

Wonder what kind of role and show Sarah could be in? Does she develop genuine interest in theatre or singing after her experience?

Sort of. She discovers that she does enjoy performing for fun (not for work, though), but because of her experience, she now feels like she should be "earning her keep," even though she's. you know. eight. and in Hell. Vox doesn't really interrogate this new interest of Sarah's very hard, partially because he's not a very empathetic person and partially because it mirrors his own experience so closely that he doesn't even think to question it.

Ondine doesn't have a lot of variation in the kind of roles she plays. She's always a precious little girl of some kind because, well, that's all she can be due to her eternal youth. She's very at-home on sitcoms, although those aren't the only shows she's in. She has a view skewed perception of what life as an actor is like though since she's the producer's daughter and is always treated 1000 times better than any of the other cast members.

Are the kid’s personalities affected by their ordeal?

Not significantly. Ondine's a little more outgoing because of it and Fineas is a bit more introverted.

Wow, Vox’s fragile pride is so enormous that he forces his kids to relive his own childhood trauma. So pathetic and cowardly.

To be fair to Vox, the main reason why he made that choice was because he felt that if he brought his children under Lantana's roof, none of them would ever get out. The "my kids might not respect me anymore if they see me like this" thing was more of an underlying motive. He doesn't leave the kids with his parents for months/years after being rescued by Alastor like he does in the Cannibal Town scenario. He'll allow his kids to eat people in order to protect his ego, but he draws the line at child labor. Vox is a weird guy.

The shared custody situation sounds hilarious, can we explore that more? So would Sarah & Thomas have visitations with Vox every weekend? Would Vox & Helen try and make their schedules fit so the kids won’t be alone in their apartments? Once Vox gained Overlord status would he kill Helen, give her a penitent & stick her in a decent apartment so the kids could still bust her, or leave her on the streets?

I have no idea how this scenario would work, honestly. It's not entirely out of character since this would all be going on in Vox's early days, before he became his worst self, but I still struggle to come up with ways this could feasibly work without taking an abrupt turn for the dark. It's really for the best that Vox and Queenie never see each other again. Neither of them are going to play nice in the long run and it'll just end with the kids even more traumatized than they already are.

It would be funny if Alastor wanted super friendly and nice to Helen to spite Vox.

Oh, 100%. In any scenario where they meet and he knows that she's Vox's ex, Alastor treats Helen like a queen (except for that one RAM scenario where he casually kills her but shhhh).

@storm-ismyusername

Okay, so, the "Vox's kids die as children AU." I came up with the image of Vox keeping his kids in a fish tank first, but upon further reflection, I've realized that it doesn't really line up with the timeline I've established.

Vox's children were 7 and 10 when he died (1957)

Vox worked under an overlord for 3 years after his death before he broke free, started his own business, and met Alastor (1960)

He and Alastor were friends for 6 years until they fell out (1966)

Vox gained official overlord status 2 years later (1968). By the time Vox had the resources for the fish tank plan, his kids would've been 18 and 21.

The only window of time where Thomas and Sarah can die and still be children is 1957-1961, so it would have to happen when Vox was still in the employ of his overlord. I actually think the idea of struggling single dad Vox is really charming, so let's go with that.

With that background, I'm not sure if Vox would feel the need to do the fish tank thing since they went 15 years with nothing going wrong. Maybe it exists, but Sarah and Thomas aren't confined to it 24/7. Everyone already knows they exist, so they're allowed to move around the tower as they please (they are absolutely not allowed to go outside, though).

Okay, with that out of the way, onto the responses. Gonna answer this in parts: this one is the pre-canon stuff, the next will be the canon stuff, and the third will be RAM stuff.

Ondine & Fineas where they die as kids: How does child Sarah and Thomas react to: 1-Dying 2-Going to Hell 3-Reuniting with your dead Dad (who now has a TV for a head) Would any of their Sinner features be different? Is it weird I can see Vox being more fatherly to Sarah and Thomas than he was in his human life? So when Sarah & Thomas die as kids does Vox find them before or after his big fight with Alastor? If before, what would Alastor make of the situation?  How long does Sarah and Thomas fend for themselves in Hell? A few days, a few weeks, a month, a year?  Did someone find the first? Did Vox only learn his kids were in Hell when someone was using them as blackmail against him? Did Sarah and Thomas watch as their father brutally murder their kidnapper in front of them?  Maybe another Overlord (like Carmilla, Zestial, or Rosie) found them and gave them to Vox because they felt threatening children was beneath them and drew the line at hurting kids. Wait what if Alastor found them first? What would he do with them if he did?

Okay, so Sarah and Thomas die somewhere between 1958 and 1959. They still drowned, maintaining their aquatic theming, but I'm not sure how exactly– could've been from their mother driving under the influence and crashing the car through a bridge's guardrails, could've been just regular drowning at the beach or something. Their mother survives, so they land in Hell alone (I have no idea what an 8~9 and 11~12-year-old could've done to get sent to Hell, but let's just move on).

Not sure how Vox finds them. In the main AU, they found him by recognizing his voice in an advertisement and seeking him out, but at this point, Vox is just some random nobody. Let's just assume he got extremely lucky and happened to come across them 1-30 days after they first arrived but before anyone else thought to scoop them up. Vox is horrified that they're dead and in Hell and privately swears to permakill his wife for letting this happen if he ever sees her again. He brings them back to his shitty little apartment and starts trying to figure out how the fuck he's supposed to care for children in Hell.

Despite the circumstances, Vox is actually a better father in Hell than he was on Earth. He has nothing to his name other than a shitty errand boy job, a tiny apartment, and his two small children, who he thought he'd never see again. While the stress of having to provide for them is a beast, losing everything sort of forced him to get his priorities in order. They become far more tight-knit than when they were alive, as Vox is forced to spend more time with them and get creative when it comes to meeting their needs.

It's all quite the adjustment for Thomas and Sarah. Dying and trying to survive on the streets was as traumatizing as you'd expect. Reuniting with your dead dad and having to adjust to living in poverty is also a lot to take in. Every day, they're stuck in a one-room apartment with gunshots constantly going off outside and explicit instructions from their father to be as quiet as possible and not open the door for anyone– very different from the upper-middle-class suburbanite life they were used to. Eventually, their dad will come home with cheap food, they'll spend time together for a while, and then they all curl up together in their singular bed and try to sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. It's not a comfortable life, but it's definitely more intimate than how things used to be. Thomas starts letting go of some of his resentment of Vox since he can tell he's actually trying now, and Sarah's view of him as A Good Dad, Actually solidifies.

Eventually, Vox secretly kills his overlord, starts his first business, and is taken under Alastor's wing. Things become more comfortable for the three of them, and Alastor becomes something akin to a weird, kind of fun uncle to the kids. Things are looking up for the family as Vox starts to build power and wealth. It's horrifying for the kids when Vox comes home one night without a head and swears revenge on Alastor, but that incident only adds to Vox's upward momentum. After ten years of struggling in Hell, Thomas and Sarah (or rather, Fineas and Ondine) find themselves back in the lap of luxury as their father claims the title of the Overlord of Television.

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

I gave up on listening to Magic Tavern in order cause I wanted to hear the Zyxx cast (and some other guests too) and I just need it on the record that the bear grills joke from the bear episode sniped me. I audibly shrieked out of surprise and then immediately felt disappointed in myself, both for reacting so strongly and also for not noticing the setup sooner. good job mr. ford

[bluerosefox]

Selina's New Kittens

Once again. A new DPxDC idea/prompt.

(Deaged! Danny, Dan, Ellie, and Jazz!)

Enjoy my random ideas.

Look.

Selina....

Selina wasn't expecting this when she decided to have some fun and do what she does best.

She just meant to sweet talk her way into Master's gala/party. Flirt and get info, maybe some blackmail. Steal away the rare cat themed artifact he had recently gotten (and also steal away his actual cat, such a lovely little diva it is too). then she was going to disappear into the night like always.

So...

Selina casted her eyes into the mirror of her car and could see the tiny children she had rescued from Master's hidden basement lab. All but one was asleep, the oldest out of them, although she seemed to be losing that fight from the way her head was falling forward, eyes closing but would jerk herself back awake when she realized she was falling asleep.

Curled up as hard and as much as they could towards the little redhead was three dark haired children, Selina mused that they'd fit right in with Bruce and his little bats/birds.

Two were near identical boys, though one seemed to be much paler than the other and if she remembered right one had red eyes and the other had blue, and the last one of the sleeping kids was a tiny toddler, a girl she heard was named 'Ellie' from the others.

Selina took note that the red head, Jazz, had finally fallen asleep a few minutes later. With a deep breath as she drove further and further away from that... that insane Fruitloop (she overheard the two boys call him that as they ran to her car) Master's place, she blindly reached for her phone and pressed a single digit on the screen, knowing it will connect to her car and call up the only person she can trust to help her with this.

"Selina." came the gravely voice after a single ring, sounds like she caught him on patrol but he seemed to be in a spot where he was okay to say her actual name over coms or she caught him before his night shift started.

"Hello Darling, I need your help with some kittens I found and to help me... Put away their terrible old owner."

[wordsarelife]

—i can fix him (no really i can)

pairing: jess mariano x fem!doose!reader

summary: jess got into another fight and you're about to clean his wounds, but he has other plans, tired of always answering your questions

warnings: kissing, making out, sexual remarks, allusions to sex

note: this was so fun to write and my first jess mariano fic, so please be gentle guys!!

“you never fail to amaze me, jess mariano“ you huffed, arms crossed as your eyes fell on the boy sitting on the curb in front of the supermarket. shadows were casted over his cheeks and he looked less than happy to see you.

"it isn't what it looks like" he muttered, trying to avert his gaze, although that was kind of hard, considering the outfit you were wearing.

your brushed your skirt to the side, before you sat down beside him. "well, it looks like you got beaten up"

"you should see the other guy" jess chuckled.

you sighed, not amused by the joke, as you softly touched his cheek.

"ow!" jess pulled his head back, trying to free it from your hands, but you were relentless, turning his chin in all possible directions to get a good look at his injuries.

"we're gonna have to clean them if you don't want them to get infected"

"i don't care about that" jess shrugged and took out a cigarette from a pocket of his jacket.

"yeah, i know tough guy". you quickly snatched the cigarette from his mouth before he was able to light it. "but i do"

"what the fuck, y/n?" jess exclaimed annoyed.

you left his words unanswered as you stood up from the cold concrete and held a hand in his direction to help him up. "come on, now. we're not dating, because i care so little about you, are we?"

jess rolled his eyes, before he followed you, of course ignoring your helping hand in the process.

you laughed at his tough act as he sent you a dark look, not finding anything about this remotely funny. he knew that this was one of your usual tactics to get him to talk. you would act understanding and worried about his injuries before he would be caught in a room alone with you, with no way to escape, having to explain every little detail about the fight.

well, tonight he decided, you were going to be caught in a room with him.

a smug smile slipped onto jess' features as he followed you up the stairs. you turned around and pushed a finger against your mouth, before you took out your keys and unlocked the door.

"grandpa is sleeping" you muttered, opening the door wide enough for jess to walk through, but not wide enough to reach the creaking sound.

jess and you had met the year before at the supermarket, where you had watched him buy a ridiculous amount of industrial glue, while he was busy watching rory and dean talk.

you had guessed that he had been doing that to bother them and while rory was a friend of yours, you had to admit that it had been a little funny.

unbeknownst to you, jess had forgotten everything about rory, once his eyes fell on you behind the counter.

"are you working on the worlds longest scrapbook or are you just very passionate about glue?"

"huh?" jess had been so stunned by what you said that he lost his usual cool demeanor and found himself at a temporary loss for words. he couldn't remember a situation in which he had not been able to reply with a witty joke.

"want me to repeat that?" you asked amused as you pulled the last bottle of glue over the scanner.

"no-uh" he shook his head "i'm jess, luke's nephew"

"oh" you smiled, a sign of recognition in your eyes "that's you!"

"and you are?" he held the ten dollar note in your direction.

you took the money, taking out his change in the process. "i'm y/n, taylor doose's—"

you were interrupted when the aforementioned man stepped next to you, a frown on his face at the sight of jess. "i'm her grandfather" he finished for you. "and you're gonna stay far away from her, you hear me, mariano?" he pressed.

"grandpa!" you scolded and jess was surprised at the sudden shame that entered taylor doose's face. it seemed like he really gave a damn about your opinion, unlike he did with anyone else in this town.

"well, i'm gonna check on miss patty and her plums" taylor excused quickly and walked away, before you could question him further.

"please don't mind him" you told jess, amusement evident on your lips "i just got back and he's been a little on edge without me here"

"where have you been?" jess asked, intrigued to hear more about the mysterious and pretty girl in front of him.

"my dad's" you replied with an uneasy smile. he recognized the expression on your face, had he always worn it himself when someone had asked him about his parents.

he decided not to stir the pot any more. "well, i'll see you around, doose" jess said, took his glue and left you standing with only a faint goodbye from your lips.

jess' hands went to squeeze your waist, as you closed the door.

you were luckily able to suppress any sound at the sudden touch and you could jess' smirk in your neck.

"very funny, mariano" you whispered, freeing yourself from his grip and turning around to let him see the annoyed expression on your face.

his eyes glistened with happiness in the dark of the hallway, before his hand went behind your back, bringing you closer to him. "why don't we go to your room?" he whispered.

you had to admit that for a short, misguided, second the sweetness of his words was not far away from undermining you.

you shook your head, snapping out of whatever had gone through your head at his tempting suggestion. "nice try" you smiled sarcastically and jess sighed, letting go of you and following behind you to the bathroom.

jess was no stranger to your rejection, especially when your grandfather was home, but he was not finished trying to (respectfully) lead you into temptation.

"there are two options how we can do this" you spoke, your voice in a normal volume as soon as jess had closed the door.

before you could explain his options, he interrupted you, the smirk now basically right in your face when you turned up the light and looked at him. "want me to lock the door?"

"no" you dragged. "you know why? because we are not doing anything forbidden"

"forbidden, huh?" jess smiled "kinda like the sound of that"

"this is not a rom-com"

"oh no" jess shook his head, wearing a faked stoic expression "of course not. just two people doing non-forbidden things in the bathroom" he shrugged.

"it sounds wrong when you say it like that"

"what does it sound like?" he stepped closer to you, ready to touch your lips with his, as his eyes fell close, but you were quicker, swerving around him, before he was able to even touch you.

"nah-ah!" you scolded.

"what?" jess turned around, now crossing his arms like you had done earlier "i'm just trying to kiss my girlfriend"

"not happening" you shrugged. "so, as i was trying to tell you before: you have two options: first, the easy one: let me fix your face and we're done in no time"

"or?" he furrowed his brows, leaning against the wall.

"or" you repeated "the hard one" jess' smile got impossibly bigger and you rolled your eyes "ew, not like you think"

"fine" he sighed. "the easy one i guess, no need to tell me about your torture method"

"it's not a torture method, but thanks for thinking so poorly of me" you muttered, before you opened the drawer under the sink, taking out the first aid kink.

you climbed on top of the counter and motioned for jess to come closer and stand in between your legs.

"well, this is kind of suggestive, don't you think?" he pinched your waist. you just shook your head, taking his hand and laying it on top of your knee instead.

"keep your hands there, mister" you directed, before you grabbed a wet cotton pad and pushed up his chin, so you could gently take the unnecessary blood off his face. "for your own good, i hope that the other started throwing punches"

"of course" jess nodded, overly dutiful, before he hissed in pain as the cotton pad touched one of the scars on his nose.

"you should've thought about that before you got into an unnecessary fight, you know?" you commented, switching out the pad, before you continued cleaning the other side of his face.

"yeah, yeah" he averted his eyes, his gaze falling onto the hem of your skirt, his fingers were laying on top of. he softly raised the fabric, pushing his hands to rest on your bare thigh.

"jess" you sighed in a warning tone.

"what? it's itchy"

"it isn't" you rolled your eyes, but didn't discuss the topic further as you threw away the pad.

you tried reaching behind you to grab one of the plasters from the first aid kit, but jess was quicker, snatching the box away from you and holding it behind his back with one hand.

"wha—"

"give me a kiss first" he prompted, smirking.

"jess" you whined, not amused at his antics.

"just one kiss, come on babe"

you reluctantly nodded. jess stepped closer, taking your chin into his hand and pulling your face closer so your lips could meet his.

his lips were warm and firm against yours, his teasing grin fading as the kiss deepened. what was meant to be a quick peck quickly turned into something more. his hand, which had been holding the first aid kit out of reach, dropped it to the floor as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

you could feel the intensity growing between you two, the playful resistance dissolving into a surge of unexpected desire.

jess' other hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you even closer as the kiss became more urgent, more consuming.

when you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, he looked at you with a glint in his eye. "was that so hard?" he teased, his voice a little huskier than before.

"oh, shut up" you muttered, flustered and lips swollen as a cause of the intensity of the kiss. you gently shoved his face back. "now pick up the first aid kit you dropped"

"yes, ma'am"

you shook your head, laughing to yourself as you watched him reach for the box on the ground behind him. it had clattered open, revealing it's contents to the ground beneath it.

he threw everything back in the box before he picked it up and came back to the counter to stand in front of you.

you took a few plasters, opening them up to stick them to the cuts on his face. "you look cute" you commented as soon as you were finished.

"i'm not cute" jess exclaimed with a stoic expression.

"you're always cute" you shrugged, now being the one to take his chin into your hands. "especially when you tell me who you fought—"

he didn't even let you finish the sentence, before he pushed his lips against yours once more. even tough it was a clear tactic to avoid your questioning, you didn't mind it this time (not that you did before, but you had to at least act like it) pulling him closer by the neck and deepening the kiss.

jess moaned into your mouth, and your lips broke into a smile. his hands were now inching closer up your thighs and a soft laugh broke from your lips when you had to catch your breath.

"let's go to your room" jess muttered, lips skipping over your neck.

"grandpa is home" you reminded.

"grandpa is asleep" he pointed out, brows moving up and down suggestively.

"jess" you giggled, as he grabbed your waist, setting you down on the floor and taking your hand to leave the bathroom, before even waiting for an answer.

well, you weren't open to any more protests then, as he took you up to your room. the only thought in your head was to stay quiet.

opposite to the rest of the night, the next morning was straight hellfire, as neither you or jess had taken the time to set an alarm.

so taylor doose entered your room without the slightest thought and watched in horror as a half-naked jess mariano climbed out of your bedroom window and fell rather awkwardly on the ground in front of it. probably right into your grandpa's rose bushes.

"i think i might be having a heart attack"

[kurooh]

☆ ， SATIVA ! — takami keigo, todoroki toya

⊹₊˚. a simple sesh with your two closest friends in the league of villains—hawks & dabi—quickly turns into something else once you start smoking too.

word count ★ 4.4k

warnings ★ 18+ content — mdni, f! reader, smoking weed, mfm threesome, very subtle dabihawks, unprotected sex, oral [f&m giving/receiving], creampies, hawks has a crush on you, wing play, spitroast, squirting, hawks is a lil submissive

xoxo, juno ★ created because of this ask! i had so much fun writing & i spent forever trying to do this idea justice and i seriously hope i did. first ever ‘long’ fic so i pray this doesn’t flop hahaha please give me some feedback and rb/comment if you liked it <33

the sun sinks low in the sky, peeking over the horizon and casting orange rays of light through the torn curtains hanging over the hallway windows. finally being off the clock and done with patrols is always rewarding in its own way, but this is different — you’ve been invited to hang out in one of the more private rooms in the villa.

dabi and hawks had always proved to be an interesting duo: one a hero, the other a villain. as if their positions in society weren’t enough to stop them from becoming friends of some kind, they shared very different interests, tastes, and quirks.

however, the only thing they could seem to agree on was you — the three of you were inseparable, spending time together often, despite having very opposite personalities.

“hawks?” your voice is hushed, awkward as you push open a dusty door, unsure of its location. “dabi? you guys are in here, right? you better not be fucking with—”

“oh relax.”

“we’re right here, dove,” hawks’ sugary sweet voice draws a loud gag from dabi, mustered from the very depths of his soul.

you huff, stepping in and slamming the door.

“it stinks in here, what the hell is that?”

“lock the door,” dabi vaguely gestures behind you, lifting one of his legs over the other as he leans against the bottom of the beat up couch. in his lap sits a copy of the hardcover hawks can’t seem to stop reading, the meta liberation army book. his darkened fingers carefully sprinkle a smelly substance into a rolling paper, and his eyebrows furrow as he focuses.

hawks sees the confusion on your face. “dabi’s making magic over there.”

“you owe me, hawks. damn fiend.”

“i am not a fiend!” the blonde snaps his head to the side, crossing his legs tightly. “you suggested it and i agreed. i’ll chip in for your efforts, though.”

dabi cackles, sealing his creation with a delicate swipe of his tongue against the paper. vermillion wings ruffle in shameless interest, gold eyes locked onto dabi’s hands. not wanting to be the only one standing, you take a seat on the old couch, both of them on either side on the floor below you.

with no encouragement necessary, dabi pushes what looks like a thick cigarette between his lips and lifts a finger to light it.

“what is that?” you ask curiously, gesturing towards his lips.

“‘s a joint,” he mumbles in reply, lighting the end of it with a small blue flame.

“don’t disintegrate it now, dabi.”

“fuck off, bird brain. as if i can’t control my quirk.”

dabi inhales deeply, taking a long drag on the joint before pulling it from his lips and passing it to the man on the other side of you. curiously, you watch as hawks takes a small inhale, then hands it back to dabi.

“pacing yourself this time? that’s new for you.” dabi remarks, sharp teeth gleaming as he smiles. hawks scoffs, staying quiet although he looks away awkwardly.

“you know what weed does?” dabi rolls the joint back and forth between his lips, looking up at you from his spot on the floor.

“i-i’m not sure, i’ve never tried it before,” your voice falters and you clear your throat, fidgeting with your fingers. “what does it do?”

“it’ll get you high,” hawks offers simply.

“it does way more than that,“ dabi shoots him a glare and shakes his head. “it’s relaxing. it’ll make you feel different, in a good way.”

he turns to the side and exhales smoke, then offers you the joint. “come on, princess,” you’re watching the wisps of smoke dissipate in the air behind him before your attention snaps back to dabi. “i, for one, think you’ll come to like it.”

“aw, don’t pressure her, dabi.” hawks takes the joint from dabi with a mild glare, and shakes his head as he slips it between his lips. crimson wings flutter as he takes a deep, long hit and fills his lungs with smoke. dabi watches with a smirk, unable to hold in his laughter when his body trembles and he starts to cough, spewing smoke from his nose and mouth.

“you’re only talking like that cause you’re not all that experienced either,” he scoffs, reaching to the side to grab a bottle of water, then tosses it to the other side of the couch.

tears from the intense coughing cascade down hawks’ flushed face as he sucks down the water, clearly embarrassed. truthfully, he’d been trying to show off a little, as well as unwind from a long day.

you take the joint from hawks before he drops it onto the carpet, then you hand it back to dabi, who shrugs. “if you really don’t want to, that’s fine, doll.”

you’re nervous, heart racing at the prospect of smoking with them. drinking liquor was always rare for you, and even when you did, you didn’t get anything more than tipsy. oftentimes you’d be wrangling hawks out of the sky and reminding him that smashing into a building while flying drunk would be a very bad look for him as a hero. he never seemed to care, though, and dabi didn’t either; he’d be equally drunk but less stupid, standing behind you and just laughing.

what if you took too much? what would you say? more importantly, what would you do?

dabi’s husky voice snaps you out of your thoughts. he offers you a smile full of faux sympathy, eyes pink and just a little shiny from the high.

“you’re just missing out.”

missing out? something about his words makes you squirm, thighs clenching. if you were to say no and leave, you’d miss seeing these two high. drunk was one thing, but high was another; you’d heard a few stories, here and there, about what weed could do. in most cases, people tend to stay the same as they usually are, although they may become a little more giggly. occasionally, weed could cause serious arousal. not to mention the date for the paranormal liberation war: it’s coming up, and hawks’ fate has been weighing heavily on your mind.

the definition of magnetic, you weren’t the first to gravitate to him; but you definitely ended up being one of the only people he actually spent the most time with. well, and dabi. closer than most friends, neither of you could even think about pulling away: what if this was one of the last times you could spend time together?

part of you feels like you’ll regret this, but you bite the bullet anyway, stammering, “uh, okay. yeah, i’ll try it.”

proudly, dabi scoots closer and hands you the joint. the smell is strong, and your nose crinkles as you lift it to your lips.

“be careful, you have to inhale a certain way—”hawks starts to say, seemingly recovered from his coughing fit, but dabi rolls his eyes at the hero’s concern. he fake gags once again, then sets his rough palm on your knee, which doesn’t go unnoticed by the hero.

“i’ll show you how, doll. i taught this dumbass but clearly he does indeed have a bird brain.”

“fuck off,” hawks grunts, leaning over to hit him lightly with a wing before slouching back to watch, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.

“bring it to your lips—right, just like that. so, you’ll need to inhale slowly because the smoke can be a bit overwhelming at first..”

you follow dabi’s instructions, closing your eyes as you take the smoke into your mouth, letting it pass through your windpipe and coil in your lungs for a moment.

“wait a second, then slowly blow it out through your mouth.”

your eyes open, and you look at the tendrils dissipating in front of you. beside you, hawks offers the half full bottle of water.

“good girl,” dabi chuckles, leaning his head back against the edge of the couch. dark, spiky hair sticks out in all directions, and hooded turquoise eyes observe you thoughtfully. “you’ll want to repeat that a few more times, alright? make sure you stop when you’re feeling it, it kicks in pretty quickly. don’t wanna overdo it, you’ll end up puking. i’m sure hawks can tell you all about that, huh?”

“dabi, seriously!” the vomiter in question whines, feathers puffing out as his blush darkens. “she doesn’t need to know about all that shit.”

it starts as a giggle, slips from your lips before you can stop it. then it’s a few, all at once. before you know it, you’re curling up and laughing so hard tears run down your face. from the corner of your eye, you notice hawks’ bewildered stare, which only makes you laugh harder.

“she’s definitely high,” dabi clicks his tongue, finding it difficult not to join in with you. hawks continues to stare, shifting in his spot on the floor as he takes in your laughter and smiling face.

maybe it’s the haze that’s taken over your brain, or the fog that’s settled in every corner of your body, but you find yourself slowly coming down from all the laughter, sliding down to the floor between them, joint between your fingers.

“you alright?” dabi pulls the joint from your grasp, sticks it into a nearby ashtray.

“my throat’s a little dry,” you rasp, overwhelmed by all the new sensations.

again, hawks hands you the water bottle, but this time he presses it into your hand. rather abruptly, you twist to the side and lean in, kissing dabi.

he makes absolutely no effort to stop you, parting his lips and letting your impatient tongue into his mouth while his rough hands wander beneath the hem of your shirt, palms dragging against your skin and only moving higher.

by the time you’re pulling away to breathe, he’s panting, eyes cast downwards at the carpet; just before his eyes meet yours, he remembers that the two of you aren’t alone.

heavy wings rustle behind you, the noise likely unintentional. when you turn back, hawks is watching, still cross-legged but now shamelessly pitching a tent in his pants.

”hawks,” you pant, body burning hot. eagerly, you beckon him over; there’s no hesitation crossing over his face when he slides towards you, squishing you between himself and dabi.

dabi watches quietly as you pull the hero into a kiss by the chin, insistent and everything but gentle. you’ve got him breathless against your lips, his wheezes pitched and clearly overwhelmed.

“alright, princess,” dabi scoffs, tugging you off the hero by your shirt and into his lap. “that’s not fair.”

he feels like he’s melting a little when your face falls, your expression becoming pathetic and sad in a way that’s utterly filthy.

“but, i-i want both of you.”

the two men look towards each other, sharing an unreadable look. hawks swallows nervously, “at the same time?”

“same hole?” dabi jokes, eyebrows shooting up when you nod to both of their questions. “well, shit. you heard her, bird brain.”

“on the couch,” hawks murmurs, patting a worn out cushion. on trembling legs, you stand and take a seat.

“nuh uh, on your knees,” dabi grunts, pushing you into position and settling behind your clothed ass.

meanwhile, hawks sits in front of you and pulls his clothes off, stripping down to his boxers. the outline of his thick cock is obvious, as is the shift of his hips as he awaits your touch.

saliva pools inside your mouth at the thought of having his cock down your throat, stretching it out and filling it up.

“off,” one simple word and his whole lower half is already fully naked.

“suck him off,” dabi’s arms wrap around your waist as he unbuttons your shorts and yanks them down to your knees. “and don’t you dare stop, or i will too.”

hawks guides his cock into your mouth, rising to his knees and cupping the back of your head. his face crumbles in pleasure, and he’s only pushing past your lips. “oh my god— fuck, your mouth’s perfect.”

his wings spread out behind him, crimson feathers quivering out of his control. “show off,” dabi mutters, pulling your panties down next. he watches your cunt closely, glossy strings of wetness stretching as your panties slide down your thighs.

“so fucking pretty, christ.” your pussy clenches from his words, his hot breath fanning over you and only adding to your anticipation. hawks stares, gold eyes honing in on rough hands and the way they grasp your plush skin.

“deeper,” hawks murmurs, head falling back as he pushes your head down further.

at the same time, dabi experimentally licks a long stripe down your pussy, the tip of his tongue dipping between your folds. the light stimulation combined with the sight and sound of hawks’ pleasure has your hips thrashing, bucking backwards for more.

“she’s real needy, huh?” dabi spits onto your cunt, a glob trailing down and dripping a little from your clit.

“looks like it,” hawks chuckles, lips moving into a pleased smile at the needy sounds you can’t stop making on his cock.

the air in the room is hot, thick with the scent of smoked weed and sex, heavy with shameless arousal. your head is cloudy, only full of thoughts of hawks and dabi. it’s like being shocked with electricity when your face is pressed into thick thighs, hawks’ cock pushing deep and causing you to choke. he grunts and starts to fuck your mouth, his thrusts carelessly deep. as if that wasn’t enough, dabi’s fingers push inside you and he attaches his lips to your clit.

“mmm,” he groans deeply, roughly tugging you backwards and into his face for more.

“does she taste good?” hawks huffs, his chest heaving. against your tongue, his cock throbs.

dabi smacks his lips behind you, then gifts your ass with a harsh slap. the sudden sting makes you moan, and he smirks.

“oh yeah. she’s so fuckin’ sweet, hawks.”

“tell me about it,” the hero gulps, his lower lip wobbling as he only grows closer to the bliss he’s been dreaming about.

“well, she’s real tight inside. sucked my fingers right in, didn’t you, princess?” to prove his point, dabi nudges two other fingers against your dripping entrance and you clench, greedy pussy begging to be stuffed full.

hawks nods, waiting for more.

“oh my god, i couldn’t even describe the taste,” dabi curls his fingers inside you, rubs your clit in methodic circles with the pad of his thumb. “‘s sweet, for sure. definitely a little sour.”

turquoise meets gold, and dabi watches hawks’ eyes roll back, wings spreading out and straining behind him, like an angel.

“you’ll have to taste it yourself, bird brain. i’m sure she’s more than willing.”

that’s all it takes to push the both of you over the edge — with a choked moan, hawks spills into your mouth, hips stuttering but still jerking forward sporadically. dabi pays close attention to the way you shake, pushing towards him for more but practically running away the second he touches your swollen clit.

dabi blames the heat in his cheeks on the weed.

“o-oh,” hawks fights back a whimper as he pulls his cock from your mouth, too sensitive to even speak.

“it’s so hot in here,” you whine, sitting up to pull your shirt and bra off. the bounce of your tits and perkiness of your nipples has dabi groaning, painfully hard.

“get the hell back on your knees.”

hawks sits and observes dabi, eyes focused on the way his fingertips run down your back and pause at your asscheeks, gripping the skin in an effort to ground himself.

he races to take his pants off, tossing them and his boxers to the floor in a hurry. he’s shaking when he lines his cock up with your entrance and shoves in, falling against your back with a loud hiss.

“holy shit,” he gasps, startled when he feels like cumming already. in a flash, hawks is in front of you again, stroking his fingers over the nape of your neck and shushing your pathetic whining.

hawks would be lying if he said he wouldn’t fuck you harder and make you sob.

“you can take it,” dabi grunts, clearing his throat to keep his voice from faltering. “it’s not you’ll be getting any breaks, doll.”

“that’s mean,” hawks says with a pout, fully hard and waiting for attention.

“shut it, bird brain. fuck her mouth again, why don’t you?”

“you heard him,” hawks shrugs, seemingly apologetic although he definitely isn’t. “open up, dove.”

his wings rustle and he groans as he pushes his cock into your mouth once again. dabi’s pace doesn’t falter, and he tugs you up a little to fuck his cock deeper.

“dabi!” you sob, his name muffled but still audible to both men, “right there, pleasepleaseplease—”

heavy balls smack into your clit with each thrust that you can feel in your lungs. even as dabi pulls you impossibly closer, it still isn’t enough to be fully satiating — what if you all shared each other like this on the regular?

“g-gonna cum soon,” you whimper, a few tears rolling down your face and forcefully falling from your jaw with every hard shove of hawks’ cock into your mouth.

electricity races through your entire body, shooting through your veins in stinging shocks as the pressure in your pelvis increases. then you feel rough skin and hot breath at the nape of your neck, along with a strong hand wrapping around your throat.

“what’s that, princess? you’re gonna cum?”

“yes, y-yes, ‘m gonna—”

“greedy, aren’t you? go ahead and wait for us.”

“i-i can’t,” you moan, eyes rolling back when dabi’s fingers dig into the sides of your neck, “i’m so fucking close, dabi, please—”

he pulls back, but before he returns to fucking you as he did before, he shoves your head down hard, only letting go once he hears you choke.

the room fills with needy groans and the hushed whimpers you keep letting out as you struggle to do as he’d asked. it’s as though hawks is facing the same predicament, a nervous hand tangled deep in blonde strands and tugging to keep himself grounded.

after what feels like an eternity, dabi finally keels over with a drawn out groan. “shit, i’m gonna cum,” the pace of his hips starts to falter and you’re less than a moment away from cumming yourself. “i’m gonna fucking—”

he cuts himself off by biting into your shoulder hard, just before you feel him gushing inside you, filling you to the brim. hawks pulls out of your mouth to take in the scene, and commit every detail to memory.

you fall over the edge with a mewl, gummy walls squeezing dabi’s cock and absolutely draining him. all you can do is moan beneath him, trembling from the strength of your second orgasm of the night.

it’s frustrating that he’s throbbing against your cervix and then pulling out immediately after, beckoning for hawks to come over. entirely spent, you collapse onto your belly, heart racing and breath coming in heavy puffs.

“god,” hawks all but groans at the sight of the mess between your legs — cum pouring from your cunt and smeared around your clit thanks to dabi. then, almost as though he’s hungry, “looks so fucking good.”

“hey now, turn over.” dabi offers you the half full bottle of water from earlier and chuckles at how quickly you open it and begin to chug. it’s gone in seconds, and the bottle falls to the ground with a crinkling sound. you sigh, exhausted and still high as hell — for a moment, you close your eyes.

“round three,” is all you hear before your legs are being spread open. your hole flutters at the prospect of some more, and you’re startled that you’re even considering it.

“i just came twice, hawks,” you cry, lower lip wobbling. a third round will most certainly break you.

with the pad of his thumb, dabi sweeps away a stray tear on your face. “let him fuck you once, yeah? god knows how damn long he’s been wanting to.”

“dabi,” the blonde whines, flushing pink. “stop it.”

with a sigh, he lifts his arms and pulls his shirt off for this final round, exposing the rest of his body. his nipples are a light pink, and he’s got a defined chest and abs with lines that look sharp enough to cut stone. he wiggles his eyebrows, eyes creasing at the corners once he notices you checking him out.

“like what you see?”

behind you, dabi rolls his eyes, but you spread your legs wider with a playful expression. “absolutely.”

thoughts of nothing besides fucking you full of his cum and making you his flare in his mind as he gathers dabi’s cum on the tip of his cock and pushes it inside you.

“o-oh,” hawks gulps down a whimper once he pushes inside, leaning forward and meeting your lips in a bruising kiss. as he pulls back, lips dragging against your cheek, you swear you hear him say something like feels better than i could’ve ever imagined.

“want me to mess around with your tits or use your mouth?” dabi rasps, cupping your chin and tilting your head to make you look up at him.

“do what you’d like to me,” your back arches off the couch after an experimentally deep thrust from the hero, your tits bouncing nicely from the movement. he takes one into his hands, squeezing the soft flesh but mostly focusing on the pebbled nipples.

with a tinkling sound, hawks’ gold chain bounces wildly at his neck. noticing your distraction, dabi slips his fingers beneath your chin and turns your head to face him.

“how’s it feel to be fucked like a slut?” he questions, pinching your nipple harshly; you moan loudly, tilting your head to the side, tongue lolling out of your mouth. dabi thinks the twisted expression of bliss on your face is so fucking hot.

“f-feels so fucking good—” you cut yourself off with a needy, pitched moan, bucking towards hawks and wrapping your legs around his waist. “fill me up, please, i need it.”

the hero chews on his lower lip, closing his eyes and choosing to lose himself in this perfect moment. behind his eyes, he feels the hot prickle of tears; is he really about to cry right now? out of bliss and in front of dabi? but the thought is whisked away the second he focuses on the sound of his balls smacking into your swollen clit.

it’s a mess between your spread legs, cum and spit and slick smeared across your skin and dripping onto the couch.

“fuck, you’ve got no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this,” he grits his teeth, wings spreading out and beating the air hard, sending icy wind straight into your face and dabi’s. “b-been waiting to make you fall apart on my cock.”

“not to interrupt, but you’re blowing the mood out like a candle,” dabi bites, rising from his spot on the couch and stepping around crimson wings.

“don’t fucking start— dabi,” he gasps when he feels hot hands pulling his wings back into their usual resting position at his back. they tremble in his grip, stray feathers falling to the floor.

“sensitive there?” he roughly prods a finger between the feathers.

hawks ignores him although the answer is definitely yes, bending forward to wrap his arms around you and pull you as close as he can. the gold chain bumps against your sternum, and hawks buries his face in your shoulder with an embarrassing moan.

“i-i’m so close— dabi, rub her clit for me,” it takes a lot of strength not to stutter when his brain’s melting like this.

with a grunt of acknowledgement, dabi’s hand slips between your sweaty bodies, fingers pushing through your pubic hair as he searches for your clit.

“right here, doll?” he pinches the swollen bud and rolls it between two fingers.

“fuck yes,” you moan, hips jolting towards him.

he’s got a hand wrist deep in feathers, scratching lightly at the skin beneath, and the other sandwiched between you and hawks as he rubs your clit furiously.

“just like that,” you whimper, eyes meeting dabi’s, whose pupils are blown. against your neck, hawks chants your name like a prayer, lips dragging against your cheek when he pulls away for a moment.

“i’m gonna—” he groans loudly, eyes rolling back and hips stuttering against your own, “take it, take it all, fuck..” his voice nearly cracks as he finally lets go, pushing deep and shooting ropes of cum from his swollen cock.

hawks shudders, wings fanning out and pushing against dabi, who groans as he takes in the whole scene.

“cum hard for me, doll,” dabi urges, his sticky fingers maintaining the rough pace he’s had this whole time; a unique tightness swells in your pelvis, begging to be released. despite having been fucked dumb, you manage to register that something big is about to happen.

“dabi, d-dabi,” you sob, legs trembling and heels pushing hawks closer. “‘s coming, ‘s coming..”

dabi’s hand slips into blonde hair, and he yanks hard, pulling hawks’ head up so he can watch you fall apart.

it happens fast; you clench down on hawks’ cock, squeezing out a moan from deep within his chest. liquid sprays from your spasming cunt, soaking hawks’ pelvis and dabi’s fingers.

“‘s too much,” you cry out, a tear racing down your cheek when you feel dabi’s fingers dragging against your overly sensitive clit again.

“why don’t we see how fucking sloppy she is?” he groans, watching closely as hawks pulls out.

you can only whimper when cum gushes from your swollen cunt and someone’s fingers push it back in. you watch as the two men rise to their feet, still on your back and panting.

“t-this was perfect,” hawks tries to catch his breath, choking when his back is slapped. “minus you ripping my hair out and slapping me just now, damn it.”

“all for good reason,” dabi snickers, helping you to sit up. “you alright? that was a lot, heh.”

“i need to take a shower so bad.”

“let’s just relax before anyone leaves,” hawks says with a sigh, plopping down beside you.

“don’t tell me you get all soft after sex,” dabi stretches and pops his neck before he sits down on the other side of you.

“better than being hard,” he mutters in reply, gesturing to dabi’s boner.

the comment only makes him spread his legs and wrap an unbothered arm around you, knuckles brushing against hawks’ face.

“gotta do this again sometime,” you say, eyelids feeling heavy. “just like earlier, both of you at the same time.”

“same hole?” they both ask at once, more serious than they’d been before.

you wink at them, not so tired anymore.

“most definitely.”

[wheeboo]

big spoon, little spoon | boo seungkwan

SYNOPSIS. in which ask your boyfriend if he wants to be big spoon or little spoon. PAIRING. boo seungkwan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. kissing (in the dark lmao), one curse word, terms of endearment, just boo being rlly affectionate :< WORD COUNT. 1.2k

requested from anon: congrats on 2k lovely!!! ❤️❤️❤️ for ur event may i please req seungkwan + #6 list one? thank u ahhhhh and congrats again - #6: "I don't think I have ever felt safer than in your arms."

notes: thank u my love !! i hope u enjoy <3 i had too much fun writing this pls 😭😭

join the 2k celebration!

"Okay, so big spoon or little spoon tonight?"

Seungkwan just freezes from where he stood in the bathroom doorway, toothbrush still dangling at his lips with bits of foam at the corners of his mouth. You're literally staring at him like you're waiting for him to answer and that it wasn't actually a rhetorical question.

"Are you asking me𑁋okay, wait." He marches back into the bathroom to hastily spit and rinse out his mouth, before coming back out with determination in his step. "Are you asking me if I want to be big spoon or little spoon?"

There's a playful lift to your lips as you sit down on the edge of his bed, and Seungkwan can very much see that slight mischievous look to your features. He can already feel the heat of the moment shoot up towards his ears, and he prays that the room is dark enough to hide it.

"Yeah, I am. Since, you know, we always sorta switch around every day," You say, nodding with a teasing grin. "And, well... I'm being considerate, as your partner and all. I gotta know all your preferences..."

God, Seungkwan feels like he's sinking into quicksand at his feet. Are you really at his place every day? He hardly ever thought about how often you were here, like how these nightly rituals had practically become routine now. He swears his heart does a little happy flip-flop at the thought.

It all started with movie night dates that bled into you two eating breakfast together, dinner dates that turned into you helping wash dishes at three in the morning, and then that particular comfortable silence that settled completely at this point. Every day, there always seems to be another reason for you to stay a little longer, another excuse to linger until the streetlights cast an orange glow through his curtains.

And Seungkwan knows he won't ever get tired of it𑁋he won't ever get tired of having you around. Not now. Not anytime soon. Not ever.

He runs a hand through his hair, feeling whatever embarrassment he had in his chest start to dissipate and replaced by a rush of warmth.

"Okay, well, as your very considerate and caring boyfriend..." He crosses his arms together. "what do you prefer?"

You purse your lips together, as if deep in thought. You didn't mind being either little or big spoon, but the thought of Seungkwan having his arms around you right now𑁋if you could describe it𑁋felt like being wrapped by a warm cloud, a feeling of pure, weightless security that chases away all possible worries.

But it isn't just about the comfort, although it's certainly a big part of it. It was the feeling of being safe and cherished, completely enveloped in his embrace. It was the feeling of home.

A slow smile graces across your face.

"I'll take little spoon," You answer gleefully, already crawling more onto his bed and tucking yourself under the covers with a little wiggle. Whatever façade Seungkwan had been putting up crumbles completely at the sight. A blush creeps up his neck, barely visible in the dim light, but his smile widens.

He chuckles softly as he joins you on the bed, slipping under the covers beside you. After flicking the lampshade off, he carefully maneuvers himself right beside you until he feels your warmth hit his skin. Then he slowly circles his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to his body, with your back meeting his chest. A low, contented hum leaves his lips as he simply holds you.

You wriggle in slightly, and he adjusts his hold, letting an arm curve over your stomach and the other one under your body to pull you even closer, fingers momentarily brushing against the hem of your shirt. You feel your legs entangle together under the blanket, and you swear the world gets smaller, quieter.

Seungkwan thinks you fit perfectly in his arms; it's like you've always belonged there.

"Comfortable?" he asks, voice muffled against you.

Your chest rises up and down with a soft sigh. "Mhm..."

The moments that pass are purely silence as he continues to hold you. You could probably fall asleep at this second, yet you feel the way Seungkwan's hand drifts lower from your waist, tracing gentle circles on the fabric of your shirt above your stomach. It's light, just barely there, but it sends a shiver down your spine nonetheless.

And then you feel him moving around behind you, breath tickling your skin, before his lips press a brief, tender kiss to the nape of your neck.

Maybe you can sense the small smile to his face right afterwards, too.

"You're so soft," he mutters, but there's a bit of tentativeness to his tone.

Your heart squeezes tightly in your chest. "I𑁋Aren't we supposed to be trying to sleep?"

"Sorry," Seungkwan apologises, but you can still hear the smile in his voice. He presses another gentle kiss to your neck, then draws back, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly. "Just like holding you like this."

The giggle that leaves you is shaky, nervous, as if there's a small, timid butterfly trapped in your ribcage struggling to take flight. He can probably hear the way your heart is pounding like a damn drum right now, but he doesn't comment on it. Thank goodness.

A thought crosses your mind, and it takes you a minute to cave into flipping yourself over to face him. A groan escapes him from the sudden change in position, but he quickly settles. The two of you can't really see each other that well since the room was basically suspended in darkness, but you can clearly feel his presence beside you, all comforting and familiar.

"I like being held by you too," You confess quietly, each syllable laced with your own hesitancy. "I... I don't think I have ever felt safer than in your arms, to be honest."

The sound of Seungkwan's breath hitching echoes throughout the room. Are the walls closing in? He's not hallucinating or imagining any of this, right? He wishes he could pinch himself, but he's busy holding you, and you're the only thought filling his mind right now.

He leans in closer, ever so slowly. He can see the faint outline of your face thanks to the sliver of moonlight cutting through the curtains.

But just as his lips are about to meet yours, you feel a sudden contact at the tip of your nose. You flinch a little, scrunching your nose up for a second, and Seungkwan pulls back immediately with a gasp.

"Oh my go𑁋did I just𑁋" He stammers frantically, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, uh..."

"Baby," You call out affirmingly, aimlessly bringing a hand up to cup his face through the darkness. Then you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, or specifically... the corner of his mouth. Close enough, anyway. "There we go."

Seungkwan just blinks, eyelashes batting furiously as he feels you shrink back into his hold. This time, you place your head at the crook of his neck, breathing fanning against his skin and making him shiver in your hold, even though he's supposed to be the big spoon.

"Let's go to sleep," You murmur lowly, and if he wasn't used to how pretty your voice sounds when you're tired by now, he should really get his shit together.

And so, Seungkwan just secures his hold around you, but not before mouthing a set of three words that he knows you can't see in the darkness, but hopes you can feel in his embrace.

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[once-in-a-blood-moon]

do you think solomon would be able to survive a week of not being allowed to call mc adorable? no or no

NO. Big no, lol.

Although this does lead me to wonder why he'd need to stop calling MC his adorable apprentice for a week. Like does the rest of the cast make a bet with him to see if he's capable of going a week without the petname or does Purgatory Hall have an intervention about his excessive use of it?

--

"And then, listen to this! My adorable apprentice used the spell I taught them to whisk the demon away like it was nothing. You should've seen it," Solomon gushes while everyone around him seems to groan and roll their eyes.

"There he goes again with the "my adorable apprentice" thing," Asmo sighs.

Mammon pipes up next. "Yeah! And it's gettin' pretty damn annoyin' too!"

"They're not just your apprentice, Solomon," Satan scolds.

Solomon can't help but chuckle at the stink everyone seems to be making. "What, I can't be thrilled by how MC is exceeding under my supervision?"

"No, you can," Simeon starts, "it's just...you refer to them as your "adorable apprentice" a lot."

"A lot, a lot." Luke adds.

Solomon sits there in silence, soaking up what his roommates are saying. He hadn't realized how often he called MC that, though now that he thinks about it, he can't deny it. When he speaks about them he can't help but be proud.

Belphie then brings up a point mid-yawn. "I bet he couldn't go a week without saying it."

"I second that bet!" Mammon interjects with dollar signs reflected in his eyes.

Lucifer sighs next to him not wanting to entertain this more then he should, but he had to admit that this was probably a bet Mammon could win. "I have to agree with Mammon. You do say it an annoyingly often."

"Ah, so we're betting on this, are we?" Solomon grins, not passing up the opportunity to prove himself while having a little fun. "Fine. I bet that I can go a week without calling MC my "adorable apprentice"." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the Devildom equivalent of twenty dollars and throws it on the table.

"You're on!" Mammon exclaims.

"I believe in you, Solomon!" Luke cheers.

Everyone else follows suit, pooling their money in the middle while declaring their bets. Lucifer, Mammon, Satan, Belphie, and Barbatos all betting he'll lose. Leviathan, Asmo, Beel, Diavolo, Simeon, Luke, and himself betting he'll win.

And so the games begin.

Through the week, he does find it difficult to hold back from using the petname. There are several instances when talking about them almost slips him up, though he's always able to catch himself before saying it. It was a term so used to sitting on the tip of his tongue that it was hard to let go. Everyone goes around to check in with each other and him to make sure he hadn't lost the bet yet. All of them stay surprised at his determination to get through the week, but remain skeptical in his ability to actually see the week through. MC, while oblivious to the bet, has even caught on to the absence of Solomon's petname praise.

It's Thursday during their after school lesson with him when it happens. He'd been quizzing them on the different types of magic and they had correctly named each one. They were even able to identify their own and his without extra prompting. Solomon was so caught up in his pride and love for them that he said it without thinking.

"Fantastic! Just what I'd expect from my adorable appren-" he trails off, his eyes widening as his heart sinks.

He just lost the bet.

MC stares at him, worried as to why he cut himself off like that. "Um...are you okay?"

Solomon stands there silently in defeat before replying solemnly, "I need to go make some phone calls..."

--

"Solomon! Just the sorcerer we wanted to see." Simeon greets once Solomon enters the common room after receiving a text from the group chat calling for an emergency meeting.

Solomon glances around to see Simeon, Luke, and Raphael dotting the room in the sofa and chairs. The odd thing is that they all seem relatively calm. Simeon pats the cushion next to him on the couch with a smile, and Solomon immediately obliges and sits down.

"So, what's the emergency?" he asks.

"Oh, this isn't an emergency," Luke says while swinging his legs. Simeon finishes for him, "it's an intervention."

A brow cocks on Solomon's forehead. "An intervention? Is this about me spending too much time in my room again?"

Simeon chuckles. "No. Although we may need to talk about that sometime soon."

"It's about MC." Raphael says, cutting to the chase.

"MC? Are they alright?" Solomon glances quickly between his friends as worry gnaws at his heart.

"MC's fine! It's about you and your obsession with calling them your "adorable apprentice"." Luke explains.

Solomon pauses, almost tempted to laugh at such an asinine reason to call for an intervention. But he sees the seriousness in everyone's eyes and realizes this is actually happening. "Is this a joke or..."

Raphael shakes his head. "I'm afraid not. You use the term so much that we thought maybe it was time to talk to you about it."

"I don't use it that often," Solomon says, slightly offended by the notion. "I praise them accordingly."

"And accordingly would be...all the time?" Simeon asks with a knowing grin.

"Well, I..."

Simeon got him. Okay, so maybe he had a problem, but it's not like it's a big deal. "Why wouldn't I want to praise them for their hard work as my student? I'm sure you all would do the same."

"Maybe so," starts Raphael, "but there's a difference between being proud and being obsessed."

"Yeah, we're just concerned about you, Solomon," Luke adds.

He sees the worry in the little angel's face and sighs, having no choice but to endure this "talk."

"This is barbaric. A man can't even gush over his apprentice anymore..."

The whole of Purgatory Hall laughs at Solomon's pouty joke before continuing with their intervention.

"They say it takes a month to break a bad habit. From this point forward, when you're speaking about them just assume everyone knows MC is your adorable apprentice," Simeon suggests. "You can praise when praise is due, but you don't need to overdo it."

"Fine, I'll give it a try." Solomon mutters, not happy with the compromise. Deep down he knows he'll be lucky if he lasts a week.

[contentloadingandstuff]

Down Bad For You - Fontaine Girls x Male!Reader

A/N: The idea behind this one is this - what "pervy" kinks do the Genshin girls have? Since it's men that are usually depicted as having these, I thought it would be a nice change of pace. Women are like that too, though we view them as more "proper". They can be horny just like us men, even if they're fictional. The research for this one was fun, as I've never really explored the other perspective. I've planned this for each nation's characters, and I'm even open to writing something like this for the male cast - if my handful of fem readers want me to. Anyway, enjoy!

A/N2: The gif is how I imagine them thinking of these.

CW: Anal, roleplay, BDSM, pain play, Dom/sub dynamics, consensual non-consent, sex work roleplay. Very "concentrated" smut.

Everybody feels extra naughty once in a while - that applies to girls too. They are commonly believed to be more proper and restrained than guys, but that’s hardly true - they can be just as obscene in thought and action as men. They have their needs too, no? And although (most) of them wouldn’t admit to their dirty wants to anyone except you, are these really bad? After all, a girl being hopelessly horny for her man is hardly a sin. 

The care and love that Furina receives from you is something she values deeply. Sometimes, when she looks up at you, she feels like all she wants to do is to make you happy. Do everything, just to hear “good girl” fall from your lips. It's no wonder, then, that she likes to call you “daddy” when she's under you. No matter how rough you are, Furina will hide her face in your arms and take it - you want her to feel good, so there's no reason to worry. All you have to do is ask, and in return, you'll get to hear ‘yes daddy' and ‘I love you daddy'. Praise her often, let her act on her fantasies, and she'll be as happy as can be. 

Clorinde’s profession, and her main source of income, is being a duelist for hire. But what if she had a… different job? One where all a guy has to do is jingle a few Mora in front of her to get her tits out? Of course, being a prostitute is not something any sane woman - let alone Clorinde - would do, but the thought of being your pussy for hire gets her positively drenched. Perhaps it's the feeling of submission, the knowledge that you can do anything you want to her for the right price? Or maybe it's the chance to act like a bold, shameless whore without worrying about her image in your eyes? No matter the reason, she'll be thrilled if you let her indulge that fantasy in the bedroom. It's a fun way to signal what you feel like - give her a handful of Mora and she'll give you a hand, but a jingling purse will move her panties out of the way. Since it's just roleplay, the money doesn't really play a part and is usually just there for fun. But if you ever want to give her money, do it this way - you'll get an opportunity to see her furious blush as she pays for a dress or a new hat, remembering what exactly she had to touch and suck to “earn” these Mora…

Handsy? That's an understatement when talking about Navia. This woman keeps her hands glued to you, and they always seem to travel down to your balls. She absolutely adores these little guys. Watching a movie? She's rolling your nuts in her hand under the blanket. Cuddling? Her warm hand wraps around them and keeps them comfy. Railing her? She'll keep your sack in place with a firm grip. You can expect plenty of worship coming their way, as there's no better aftercare than having your sack spit-shined by an eager mouth. Balls are soft, cool and tender, feeling so perfectly masculine in her hands. All she is doing is giving your baby makers what's theirs - it's thanks to them that her belly bulges time and time again with cute, healthy babies. There's something exciting, though, in how nervous you get when she squeezes them a little tighter or drags her teeth over the sensitive skin. She has your masculinity, your male pride, in the palm of her hand, doesn't she? Don't worry - she won't damage the goods, as you still have plenty of kids to fuck into her~

She's a rare example of a person that really likes each part of her job. Writing, interviewing, taking photos and capturing things on film - Charlotte enjoys each part of the process, and that obviously bleeds into the bedroom. Her trusty Kamera captured more than just famous people, she'll have you know. She has entire smut albums at home, brimming with filthy pictures that show a completely different, far more slutty side of the journalist. Of course, she has a big reputation to uphold - these pictures getting out would be a major blow to her image, but what's life without a little risk? Nobody but you knows that Charlotte walks around with a few of these pics folded up in her wallet. And she doesn't play a stakeless game - she makes sure that each picture includes some part of her face, or at least a clue to her identity, usually the pink tuft of trimmed pubes. Each time she opens her wallet in public, she feels a tingle of excitement mixed with fear at the prospect of somebody seeing her creampied pussy, your thick cum pouring out like dense cream, or just what kind of facial expression she pulls when there's a cock lodged balls deep in her asshole. Of course, you have free access to the whole collection - she trusts you to keep them between you and her. The benefits of developing the photos yourself, right?

As all proper, young ladies, Emilie read a lot of books during her youth and continues doing so to this day. Some of the titles she stumbled upon were more… improper than others, but they quickly became her (literal) dirty pleasure. She found a special interest in mixing pain with pleasure. Whips, clamps, spiked wheels, cuffs and many more torture implements fill her collections, all ready to provide the most intense of experiences. Emilie used to lament to herself that she had no man that would embrace her, let alone her kink, but now? My, the possibilities are endless! She made herself a special playroom, and when she's in there - you're free to do anything your mind conjures to her, no matter how mean it is. Within the pre-established rules, of course. Hoist her up by the panties and just lay back, watching her wiggle helplessly and moan as the fabric bites into her plump pussy. Stuff your boxers into her mouth fingerblast her, adding heavier weights to her poor nipples every time she trembles from the pleasure. Punish her disobedience with relentless edging and an unlubed dildo up her ass. Don't stop, even when she finally releases the stress and pain you inflicted on her all over your cock. And when you're done, scoop up your exhausted wife and shower her with kisses - there's nothing nicer than some love and cuddles after being so thoroughly tormented. 

It's always the quiet ones. Would you expect the quiet and socially awkward Lynette to hand you a vibe and a remote? She's an expert in keeping up appearances, so do your worst. Lynette can take even the highest setting with only a blush and grimace, but it's the long game that gets her. Lynette knows this, and the first hour is always a desperate fight not to cum too much, as she knows overstimulation will crack her stoic facade. Show some patience and you'll catch a sight of her knees buckling or her tail shivering. Don't wear her out too soon though, there's still a lot of things she needs to get done. Before she started doing this regularly, conversations with people were boring and exhausting. They still are tiring, don't get her wrong, but now they are constant battles to keep herself from whining out loud and collapsing on the floor. Luckily, her brothers and friends don't have her feline hearing and she's the only one that can hear - and feel - the constant buzz inside her folds. 

Gods, you're so hot. Chevruse can't help but think of you and only you when you are away. Your body, your scent, your warmth, your beautiful voice… The groans as you chase your pleasure, the ravenous way you fuck her until you're content, only to do mount her again in a few minutes… You're so strong and insatiable. She always wondered how it would be to share you with other girls and watch as you juggle pussies and mouths as you see fit. If you'll have her, Chevruse will gladly offer a threesome, maybe even a foursome to her friends. Wouldn't it be nice? To have two other pussies to fuck when your main toy breaks? It's also a great way of bonding between besties. After all, what brings girls closer that sloppily sharing a load with Emilie or eating your creampie straight out of Chiori's cunt? 

Being independent and strong is a significant part of Chiori’s character. Wouldn't it be nice, though, to give up some of that every now and again? Have someone care for her, keep her close and tell her what's good for her? Of course it would - who would use this power better than a man? And what man would take better care of her than you, her darling husband? Keep in mind, though, that Chiori tends to be sassy and sarcastic with you - she clearly needs discipline. It's not that she doesn't respect you, she keeps her tone quiet and gaze low to the ground when you're her ‘Sir’, but she'll act bratty just to feel you dominate and discipline her. You may nominally punish her, but she's having the time of her life being set straight by a strong, mature, older and more experienced man. Every time she comes home late from the shop, her knees buckle at the thought of what she'll be doing in a while - digging her nails into your pants and whimpering into your thigh as you paint her ass red with your belt, make her kneel on dried peas or lock the bathroom door until she's feeling truly sorry. Every time, after enduring her punishment, Chiori will cling to you, seeking comfort and forgiveness from her ‘Sir’. Though this kink of hers shows up only behind closed doors, she might sometimes call you the honorific in a hushed tone, or hang off your arm as you take her out to dinner or the theater. Maybe submitting to a man isn't as bad as she thought - it definitely is hot as hell. 

Everyone is very respectful and fearful of Arlecchino, which does, at times, make her days very dull. Oh how she would love someone to come in, disrespect her, and give her a reason to let her frustrations out. While this does happen sometimes, she never gets to experience the smutty kind of that. And that's when you come in. Since she’s lucky to have a man of her own, Arlecchino won't hesitate to use you for all you are worth. But she doesn't just want to be made angry, no. She'll clearly communicate what she wants - she wants to be helpless, she wants to be angry, she wants to be desperate until she can't take it anymore and she just breaks. She'll love nothing less than being tied up and forced to cum way beyond what she can take, having her mind melted into slop over hours of stimulation. Vibes and wands are your friends here. Tie her up and just leave her there, maybe slap your cock across her face to rile her up even more. After the overstimulation kicks in, at first she'll be angry - Arlecchino will curse you, for the audacity of doing this to Harbinger and will threaten you with the worst fates imaginable. It's just good fun, so you shouldn't take it seriously, and neither should you stop until you hear the safe word. Push her to her limits. She loves it. Her noble blood, her titles, her position, her power, her influences… She can bring them up all she wants, but they won’t give her anything - not when there's a wand on max power, blasting her clit for the third hour in a row. Eventually you'll hear her beg, plead with you to let her rest, but don't relent. Push her further, watch as she understands that nothing will change her predicament and begs for mercy with her eyes, creaming on the toy time and time again until you grant her mercy. But don't go just yet. You must be so horny and frustrated, all because you indulged her in this. It's only right for her to give you some pleasure too, so go ahead and fuck her stupid, for good measure. Make sure there's not a conscious thought behind her crossed eyes. She can take all of this, don't worry. Arlecchino isn't some delicate girl that will yield to anything. She's a woman, and your own toy - she can take a proper punishment. If anything is wrong, she'll use the safe word, but that doesn't happen often - after all, you know your wife's body so well. 

Thanks for reading!

[saphiccarma]

- Wouldn't you like?

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Reader

Warnings: Smut. It's basically all smut.

Agatha Harkness was perhaps the best parent you ever had the pleasure of meeting. You taught third grade, which her son Nicholas was in, and he was an absolute delight. You met Agatha during the first parent teacher meeting.

She had shown up in a pair of black slacks and a white blouse tucked into them, a heavy jacket sitting on her shoulders. When she walked in her heels clicked on the floor and her eyes, a piercing icy blue, scanned everywhere. Wavy brown hair fell down her shoulders and she flipped it over her shoulder with long fingers when she sat down.

From the instant you met her, you were stunned. You stumbled over your words, cheeks flushing while you fumbled with papers to show her. She kept an amused, patient, smile on her face the entire time.

And since then, she continued to surprise you.

The school had a cultural day a few weeks later, each kid was supposed to bring some food from their heritage and share it with their class. Nicholas had been eager all week, saying his mother was the best cook ever, bouncing on his toes excitedly when the day had come. Turns out, Agatha was an amazing cook, her food tasted divine and nearly everyone ate it. You had to refrain from getting seconds.

That's when Agatha first asked you out.

You had been stunned at first, thinking it was some sort of joke. Agatha was a hot single mom, but you never expected her to ask you out. Sure, she never had a ring on her finger, but you were surprised to realize she wasn't even dating. Flustered, you had accepted her offer.

The two of you had been dating for a few months now, keeping it on the down low and making it seem like you were just friends. Nicky adored you, always happy to have you over, but he thought the two of you were just friends. Although a part of you thought he wouldn't mind you dating his mom.

Today, the school was hosting a fundraiser and had asked for parent and teacher volunteers. Naturally, you volunteered, but then so did Agatha. At first you thought it would be fun, until it seemed that Agatha made it her goal to distract you the entire time.  

At first, you hardly noticed. It was her subtly brushing her hand against yours when helping you put up decorations. Then she moaned loudly after trying some of the food prepared, all the while making direct eye contact with you, swallowing hard on purpose. That had gotten you to look away instantly, your face flushed and eyes wide.

She only got bolder from there, pressing a kiss to your neck and sucking slightly, when no one was watching, lingering touches on sensitive spots, and despite your many hissed warnings, she didn't stop.

You were constantly worried Nicky, or some other parent would notice.

Then everyone else arrived and the fundraiser dinner started. You sat next to her, and it made everything worse. Her feet trailed along your ankle, hand resting on your thigh, slender fingers trailing up and down, dangerously close to where you wanted her. Heat pooled in your stomach, and you shifted in discomfort as the slick feeling between your thighs. You sat next to her, tense, and casting anxious glancing towards the kids table where Nicky sat. A few other parents sat at the table with you, conversation flowing easily and they were completely unaware of your struggle.

At some point when you almost got caught, you made an excuse to leave the restroom. Agatha followed shortly after, using the same excuse.

"What are you-" Your words were muffled as Agatha shoved you against the wall, her hands gripping your collar and smashing her lips onto yours. All resistance left you at the simple action, her tongue poking into your mouth with practiced ease as she kept you pinned. Whimpering into her mouth, you grasped at her shirt desperately. As always, she was dressed nicely with a white turtleneck, flowy grey pants and a brown jacket.

Her lips trailed from your lips to your neck, leaving a hot, wet trail that had you whining. Her teeth bit down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, not caring to be gentle, soothing it over with her tongue.

"Agatha," already you could hardly form a coherent word, your brain fogging up with her touch. She had been teasing you all night with the light kisses and purposeful touches. It left you as a puddle of mush.

She smirked into your neck, hands slipping down to your breasts, cupping them through your dress, "Do you know how delectable you look in this dress?" Another nip at your skin that had you shutting your eyes, "I've been having such a hard time resisting you." As if she wasn't teasing you all night.

One of her hands fiddled with the frills of your dress and your breath hitched when she hiked it up slightly, her foot toeing your legs apart. She continued pressing tender, yet harsh, kisses to your skin, not caring if she was leaving marks as she sucked. You were hardly present enough to bother stopping her. Her fingernails scrapped on the inside of your thigh lightly, bunching your dress up until it was at your hips.

"Aggie," you muttered, eyes snapping open to glance around anxiously. The two of you were just in the halls, anyone could walk in at any minute. Agatha met your eyes, a small smile curling at her lips that gave away how much she was enjoying this. “Anyone could walk in.”

"I guess you'll just have to be quiet then."

You didn't get a chance to protest as her fingers pushed your panties to the side and swept through your folds, gathering your wetness on her fingertips.

"All this for me?" Bringing her fingers up, Agatha pressed down on your bottom lip, and you obeyed, letting her slide her fingers in. You sucked obediently, tasting yourself on her fingers. She pressed down your tongue. Tears brimmed the corners of your eyes and that only added to the desire.

A whine escaped you when she removed her fingers, "All for you. Only you. Agatha please." You didn't think you could hold on much longer.

She pretended to contemplate it for a second and you didn't notice her hand creeping lower, closer to where you needed it. Then she hummed casually and shoved two of her fingers knuckle deep into your cunt. You gasped, hands clawing at her shoulders, hips bucking. Squeezing your eyes shut again, you threw your head back against the wall as Agatha started moving her fingers hard and fast.

Your walls clenched around her. Lips teased the skin on your neck, biting and sucking and licking. Her hand toyed with one of your nipples. The added stimulation of her twisting and pinching them made the wetness between your thighs grow.

You had to bite down on your lip to stop from moaning loudly when her fingers curled just right, and her thumb pressed against your clit. She held you there for a moment before she began to thrust her hand again, palm slapping against your hand. It was embarrassing how fast you felt your orgasm coming, a tight coil of heat in your stomach and your walls fluttering around Agatha's fingers.

"Agatha- I'm gonna-" A pitiful keen left you when she suddenly stopped, her fingers resting in your wet cunt, and your eyes snapped open, "Aggieeee." You were so close and then she just stopped.

She smashed her lips onto yours, teeth clashing as you squirmed. Her tongue was practically fucking you after a moment, but you wanted nothing more than for her fingers to start moving again.

When she pulled away from the kiss, you gave her big, pleading eyes, "Agatha please. Fuck me please."

That was all it took for Agatha to begin fucking you hard again and your orgasm came upon you quickly. It washed over you like a wave, a shuddering sense of pleasure filling you as you trembled and tightly held onto her shoulders. Your teeth sunk into your lip to prevent yourself from screaming her name, but a small whimper did leave your mouth. Agatha placed one last tender kiss onto your neck, her lips lingering lightly for a moment before she pulled away, taking her fingers away.

You panted against the wall, flushing even further when Agatha sucked her own fingers clean, moaning at the taste of you. Your dress fell back into place but that didn't change the fact that you were insanely wet. Agatha's lips curled up tightly, enjoying the way your thighs rubbed together in discomfort at the dull pain between your thighs from how hard she fucked you.

Before either of you had a chance to say something, there were voices around the corner and you hurriedly wiped the couple droplets of sweat on your face and readjusted your dress. Glaring at Agatha, as you touched your neck and instantly you knew she left marks. You smoothed down her blouse and started casually leading her away. Two parents rounded the corner, and it took one look from one of them to tell you they knew what was up. They stared a little longer than they should at your neck.

A hot heat filled your cheeks, and you ducked your gaze down, slapping Agatha's arm once they were out of sight.

"That was dangerous. And you left marks," you hissed, gesturing at your neck, "What if one of the kids walked in on us?"

Agatha laughed, walking ahead of you, but not before glancing back with her pink lips grinning, "That's part of the fun darling."

[asarigg]

Inside the Character's Mind: Part 4

KOUJAKU'S NATURALNESS

In contrast with all these worries Aoba has, there’s… this Koujaku:

While Aoba worries when he hears that Koujaku had refused everyone’s chocolates because he wanted to give him his chocolates and make it seem like something casual and move on to the next topic, so he wouldn’t die out of embarrassment, Koujaku is eager to receive those chocolates. He refuses the other’s chocolates not only because it would be dishonest to everyone involved, but also because in the end the only chocolates he cares about now are Aoba’s.

Aoba tries to lie and avoid the topic, but Koujaku had already noticed the box in his bag. When Aoba asks if he doesn’t find it weird, for a moment Koujaku doesn’t even know what he’s talking about. Same here:

Koujaku doesn’t care at all whether he’s with a woman or a man, obviously he’s bi, but that doesn’t exempt him from worrying or having issues about it. But he doesn’t. He just doesn’t have these kinds of concerns, he doesn’t care what other people think of his relationships. If it were up to him, he’d shout out loud that he’s dating the love of his life, but out of respect for Aoba he doesn’t.

The closest thing to anything like that is that he didn’t want to admit that he was in love with Aoba because they were friends, like I’ve mentioned before. He couldn’t tell him the truth or risk the friendship they already had. He didn’t want his rejection and he didn’t want to be a burden. Koujaku openly kisses him on the street, making sure not to be seen only to respect Aoba’s wishes, he takes every opportunity to hug him, and even when Benishigure asks them if they’re on a date he answers yes without hesitation, to which Benishigure responds by jokingly wishing them a happy marriage. I find it funny they have opposite reactions especially when Koujaku is the “straightest” of the cast and is always perceived as super masculine in and out of the game as I mentioned. You can appreciate through their relationship’s development that Koujaku gets over that initial awkwardness and has his sexuality pretty normalized now, whereas Aoba takes longer because his nature is more shy and reserved, but it still changes as Koujaku reassures him, helping him coming to terms with his gender and sexuality issues.

In the end Koujaku always reassures him, making sure he feels loved.

Fun fact: In one of Koujaku’s earlier designs he also wears leg warmers. Since they often do things together, like Koujaku accompanying Aoba to buy the CDs he likes, it would be cool if they shared that as well. Also, I’ve always thought that Koujaku’s more casual clothes are probably not worn that much since he always wears a kimono, so Aoba would steal his wardrobe. Imagine if the leg warmers were a gift from Koujaku?

CHILDHOOD. SLY AND KOUJAKU. THE AVOIDANT BEHAVIOR: part 1

This section might be my favorite, although it's so long (ton shit of pics) I'll be dividing it, please wait for the next parts 🤧💞

We also know that Aoba’s insecurities come from his fear of abandonment, because as he himself says, he fears losing Koujaku because when he lost him once it was extremely painful for him.

When Koujaku came into his life, it had a major positive impact. Koujaku being with him meant that the other kids wouldn’t bother him anymore, that he wouldn’t have to feel so alone and abandoned after his parents left and having a grandmother who couldn’t always be with him. For several years those were some of the fondest memories for both of them, so much so that Aoba started to see Koujaku as his hero (which, oddly enough, is also something that when Aoba tells him about it, Koujaku is surprised), and those memories prevented Koujaku from suicide.

And the impact when Koujaku left was equally negative. He was back in the misery of being an abandoned child, and knowing what awaited him after having experienced some of the happiest years of his life made the shock even greater. So much so that it would cause Sly to resurface until he finally took control of the body. Whenever Sly appears, it’s because Aoba needs help, to use his powers or because he has to fight something that Aoba alone cannot, including mental distress that weakens Aoba. And it’s no different here.

From this stage of their childhood we see a certain connection between the two that seems to go a little bit further, to a spiritual plane. Koujaku came into Aoba’s life at an ideal time, after his parents left, and no matter where Aoba was, Koujaku would always end up finding him. As if it was fate or a miracle, he remembers him and the beautiful moments they lived together when he wanted to commit suicide, giving him some hope to continue living and that maybe not everything in his live had gone wrong. After years of being alone following the death of his mother he finally manages to return to the island. No matter how much they try to hide that something is bothering them, even if they don’t know the reason, they always know something’s wrong, even when other people who are also close to them don’t realize it. There’s something special there, they always make the way they interact and share their feelings through other means than words sound in a somewhat spiritual way, using a lot of subtext. Because that’s how it was meant to be.

As I mentioned earlier Koujaku kind of believes in souls, asking Aoba about it in the Drama CD. Not only that, but after dreaming about his mother several times recently, he believed that maybe it could be his mother’s spirit trying to tell him something, to go to her grave.

But I think the most interesting part of all this is in the bad ending. The bad ending is a reflection of how far obsession can go and the consequences of not letting the people who love you help you. Not letting yourself be loved, pushing them away and locking yourself in, perpetuating the cycle you've been stuck in all your life, from which you can’t get out alone.

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #07

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

Exactly two days have passed since you and Jungkook had the whole conversation about how your plan is going to work out, settling a slightly relieved feeling in your chest. It went well, less embarrassing than you thought it'd be. But now you think about it, it wasn't embarrassing at all.

Having no actual schedule made things much more at ease and natural. Jungkook's messages popped on your screen every now and then, even during your work time which caused a muffled giggle to escape your mouth whenever he sent you one of his ridiculous memes. With no actual seeing him, it was the only sort of communication you both had.

That was until he asked about the movie night – something you used to do from time to time.

It brings a weird nostalgia, remembering all those nights you've spent watching horror movies that Jungkook insisted on watching so bad, leaving you screaming, jumping and gasping at every scene in fear. You knew some part of him did it on purpose, knowing you'd have all those reactions and he always had so much fun with that. Snickering and laughing his lungs out, even when you glared at him and smacked him, annoyed by all the teasing and mocking.

But this time, it's different. When Jungkook tells you he has a movie prepared, you thought it'd be just some stupid horror movie or something you've watched hundreds of times, but it's still fun to watch. Like Harry Potter or Fast and Furious movies. However, Jungkook's sly smirk appears on his face as soon as a naked woman appears on the screen.

It's an erotic movie, giving you Fifty Shades of Grey vibes, while Jungkook looks like he's enjoying it more than you do.

"It's a great way for you to find out what you might like." he explains after a couple of minutes, cutting off the loud moaning boosting from the speakers.

His neighbours probably think he's fucking someone here.

Apparently, it's none of his concern, when he's watching the movie with all his attention. A soft snort leaves your mouth, finding it amusing how quickly he shut up as soon as a naked woman appeared on the screen.

"Do you find her attractive?" you ask him after a while, cocking your head to the side as you observe the woman's body, before you pop some more popcorn into your mouth.

She's not ugly, but not overly pretty like they usually cast such a actress. This one looks casual, almost discreet but still holds some kind of confidence.

He mimics your previous action, munching on the salty popcorn as he studies the current scene.

"I mean... she's not ugly." he comments, although doesn't show any more effort to dive into it more.

"Her boobs are small." you say casually.

He looks at you, a grin plastered on his lips as if he finds your comment funny. "Are they?" he asks amusingly, giving you a glance before he looks back to the movie.

The conversation ends there, the confronting scene catching both of your attention as you find yourself to be invested in the actual plot. You're intrigued, because even though there are a fair amount of sex scenes, it doesn't seem to be all about sex which pleasantly surprises you. That's until the two main characters are back on screen, passionately kissing before he decides to punish her. Two minutes later, a spanking sound resounds in the living room as you watch with slightly widened eyes the scene unfolding in front of you. He slaps her naked ass, a camera catching his darkened eyes that are set on her.

It's no news that your sexual experience isn't as wide as you hope it would be. Else you wouldn't be in this kind of position – playing Jungkook's fake girlfriend in exchange for him fulfilling your secret and undiscovered desires.

Your ex never showed any interest in the whole BDSM thing and neither did you. Being called slut, bitch and having someone degrade you, has never occurred to you. It's not something you'd probably enjoy. Although, BDSM is much more than that, probably involving a lot more stuff that you can think about. But watching this movie, which revolves around it, you don't find it uncomfortable.

You're rather intrigued with the way he spanks her ass – her moans which are obviously fake and played, mixing with spanking sounds. It makes you wonder if you'd like to be spanked. The scene in front of you doesn't make you wet or horny, but the thought of someone doing that to you is still enough to spark an interest inside of you.

"What are you thinking?" Jungkook speaks up, his brows slightly pinched together just to show curiosity and confusion on his face.

You must've shown way more interest on your face than you thought, considering he noticed it. But then, Jungkook has always seen right through you.

"Nah, I was just wondering.." you trail off, focusing your eyes on the screen as you unconsciously bite onto your lower lip.

"About what?"

"I don't know. I've never been spanked before. I'm wondering if it's, y'know, my thing or something." you mutter, disappointed when the scene cuts to a different one, much less explicit.

It's quiet for a couple of seconds, your mind already set on the plot of the movie but Jungkook is the one who's staring ahead with a puzzled look. You don't notice it, not until he speaks up again.

"You wanna try it?"

Not expecting it, you almost choke on your spit, straightening yourself as you peer at him with widened eyes. Did you hear him right? Is he joking? But when you notice his neutral, or more like curious gaze, you know he's for real. A smirk curves on your lips, your body turning to Jungkook to take a better look at him.

"Are you offering to spank me, Kook?"

"I mean... yeah. I guess I am." he shrugs carelessly and you take that time to properly look at him.

He's wearing one of his usual comfy outfits consisting of loose sweatpants and black oversized shirt. You've seen him wearing it more times than his working attire, but he looks fucking good. There's no lie in that and you're sure Jeongguk is very well aware of his attractiveness.

"I'm in but what reason is there to spank me for? Me drinking your banana milk?" you snort, laughing at the way he looks offended for a second at the mention of his precious banana milk.

The tantrum he threw a few months back, the one you remember very clearly, because he made sure he gives you a proper punishment for drinking his stupid banana milk that he loves so much. It was funny, until he started to tickle you to the point there were tears running down your cheeks and you were very close to peeing yourself.

One thing Jungkook doesn't like is you laughing straight into his face, making fun of him. But you can't help it and continue to laugh at his sudden expression, jaw locked into its place as he stares at you with dark eyes. It all happens quickly, his hands on your hips pulling you closer to him in a flash. His hands are rough on your skin, leaving prints on it while he makes sure he holds you securely. He bends you over his knee, the cold air hitting the back of your exposed thighs as you grab onto the first thing your hands can reach – his ankle and the edge of the couch.

Unfortunately, you chose to wear one of your pajamas shorts that you forgot here months ago, wanting to wear something more comfortable. Plus, Jungkook's air conditioning is broken, so it's hotter inside than usual. It all makes it even more awkward in this situation. He has seen you in your towel before, but this time it's different. Almost all of your ass is exposed to his dark eyes and you're about to look at him, slowly lifting up yourself just to be pushed back. His knee digs into your lower stomach but you don't mind it that much.

"I'm sick of you making fun of me." he spits, palming your ass through the cotton material of your shorts that makes your breath hitch.

Fuck. Since when are his hands so comfortable?

You're not sure whether he talks about the mention of banana milk or that you've laughed into his face again – but you can't focus on that for too long, not when his hand feels so good against your ass.

Nobody has ever been so rough with you and he barely did anything. Still, it's enough to make your heart jump every time he swiftly moves his hand. Has he ever done this before?

"I'm sorry." you speak up, not recognizing your voice at all. It's so fragile, flattering into the space of your living room. It doesn't sound like you at all.

"Are you?" he dryly chuckles, scoffing right after as he squeezes your ass cheek.

God, it feels so good. He barely started and you already feel yourself getting wet. No, you're wet.

"Oh, bunny, you're about to be sorry."

This is not the Jeon Jungkook that you know. He's showing you a whole new side of him. His voice is dark, filled with dominance and lust, leaving you breathless.

A shiver runs down your spine, anticipating every move he makes with his big hand as he keeps palming the soft flesh of your ass. He plays with the hem of your shorts, before he asks you if he can take it down. Automatically a 'yes' jumps out of you, his amused chuckle following right after as you hide your flush cheeks. Thank God, he can't see you right now.

He doesn't take them entirely, enough to expose your perky ass cheeks to him. You hear him silently curse, admiring your untouched ass that's about to be spanked. He can perfectly picture his red hand prints all over it and it takes him a minute to shake out of his daze. Out of nowhere, he spanks your ass, not too hard though. You can barely register it, but it's enough to make your heart jump from the sudden contact. You understand that he only tested the waters, silently watching your reaction.

But when you shift yourself, pushing your ass up, it's all he needs. It's a silent plea for him to continue, so he doesn't waste any time asking you since you patiently wait for his next move.

"If you wanna stop, just tell me," he speaks up, his tone gentle all of a sudden causing the corner of your mouth to twitch in amusement.

Leaning up, you turn around your head just enough to look at him, tilting your brow. "Okay, bunny."

You just wanted to tease him, using his own choice of words or more accurately the pet name he gave you, but it turns out it wasn't a good idea. Before you can properly lean back, your back arches as soon as his hand is met with your ass cheek, slapping your flesh out of nowhere. The smack sound rings in your ears as you shut your eyes automatically, a surprise gasp leaving your mouth.

"I wish I could ruin you for that smart mouth of yours," he says through his gritted teeth, palming your ass before he smacks the other cheek with the same intensity.

It's almost embarrassing how quickly he got you wet. The wetness between your legs causes you to rub your thighs together. It could be mistaken as your reaction to cope with the new feeling, but it's a completely different story. You're rubbing your thighs together to release some of the build up lust in the pit of your stomach and between your legs. If he knows what you're doing, he doesn't voice it out.

"Ruin me, Kook." you whisper, so silent that you think he didn't hear you, but he did when his next words are like the next wave that's splashing you in the face.

"Oh, I will," It's not a comment, it's a promise. "I want you to count every spank I give you." he demands, his voice shifting to an even darker one and you wonder if he's just getting into some character or this is his persona in bed.

If he's usually like this in bed, you envy every girl that gets to fuck him and experience it.

"Okay." you speak up, knowing he's waiting for your answer.

He's not wasting a second, a palm meeting your clothed skin in a quick movement, not too harsh but enough to let you a surprised squeal. He palms your eyes right after, caressing the thin material as you hear your heart beating in your eardrums. You're surprised by the new feeling, complementing whether you like it or not. You need more to decide on that.

"Count, Y/N." Jungkook says through clenched teeth, reminding you of his rules that completely blew out of your mind.

"One." you cough, hiding your surprising soft voice.

It's clear, even to your inexperienced self, that he's going easy on you. His voice might be rough, showing his dominance over you, but his soft touch that makes sure to caress your attacked ass says otherwise.

"Good girl." he praises, causing a cheeky grin to appear on your lips in an instant, feeling some kind of pride over his praise.

But your grin is wiped off as soon as he slaps you again, this time focusing on the other ass cheek with more intensity, causing you to squirm in spot. This time, any sound that's about to come out of your mouth is muffled by your lips, teeth securely biting into your lower lip.

He repeats the caressing part, which helps the slight stinging feeling on your ass, although you know he's restraining himself. He makes sure he goes gradually and slowly, silently watching your reactions.

It makes you think he had probably done this before, the way he acts surely doesn't look like someone who doesn't know what he's doing. You kind of suspected that he's not boring and sex with him is a different kind of adventure, by the amount of girlfriends he had. But of course, that doesn't mean anything. Maybe his charms and attractiveness helped — but now you know that your suspicion was right.

Rather than to say it's weird, it's new for you to see this kind of side of him. Yes, Jungkook has always held some kind of dominance but he still remained this cute guy who'd pout and laugh in the cutest way. It's new, and you like it.

"Y/N..." he growls, reminding you of your task as you take your time to count for him.

"Two." you say much more stable, licking your lips in anticipation before another slap is delivered onto your lips.

Each slap gets more intense, stinging your skin even more to the point that you squirm on his lap. But every time, a number of the slap always resounds from you, not telling him to stop. It's not enough to get you off, but enough to make your panties stick to your heat, enjoying how wet you've become with each slap. You should be embarrassed when soft gasps of pleasure blend with the movie that is still on, but you could care less. Your mind is purely focused on Jungkook's hand, meeting your now exposed flesh, since he hiked up your shorts.

Skin on skin contact is even better, his soft skin and gentle circles that he massages to your skin leaves you breathless. You crave for him, the burn between your legs almost unbearable as you whimper, silently hoping Jungkook would touch you elsewhere.

"You like that, bunny, huh." he chuckles, his usual light and teasing tone gone and swapped with darkness and mocking.

Oh, you do. Much more than you've ever imagined.

"Answer me," he says, blowing another slap to your ass that makes you flinch in surprise. "You like me spanking your little ass?" he muses, a finger tracing a gentle line across his red handprint that you can't see but surely feel.

You shudder, gulping before you open your mouth. "Yes."

A low hum comes out of him, pinching your reddened skin that makes you whimper. It hurts, but when the pain slowly goes away you feel yourself clenching your thighs together, perking your ass for him.

"I told you to count," he reminds you, pinching your other cheek. "So needy." he comments under his breath, probably more to himself than to you, eyeing your perked ass.

"Nine." you count, your breath hitching in your throat.

"Last one, bunny. Get ready."

He barely finished saying it, his hand slapping over his handprint again. This one is the most intense one, causing you to loudly gasp before a shameless moan erupts in your throat. He massages your ass, blowing some air onto it that makes goosebumps appear on your skin. He gives you a few seconds, taking in your quickened breathing that gradually slows down before he slowly pulls you up.

Your cheeks are red, pupils blown out from what has just happened.

It was fucking good. So good that you wished he'd touch you again, taking care of that burn in the pit of your stomach and between your legs. You've never been turned on from this kind of thing and looking at Jungkook, just wants you to sit on his lap and repeat that time when you made cum each other.

But you stay put, taking in his dark eyes and a few strands of his raven hair covering them, before he moves them away. A slow, but clear smirk stretches onto his lips and you know your best friend is back. 

"You surely liked that." he teases you, wiggling his brows that make you roll your eyes at him.

"Pff, it wasn't that good. Don't flatter yourself." you scoff, knowing he has another thing added to his teasing list.

He's such a brat.

"Hmm, I think your soaked shorts says otherwise." he muses, eyes averting between your legs that makes you react right away, looking there for yourself.

A wet patch soaked through your panties and shorts is visible, your legs automatically closing but it's too late. He has seen it and pointed that out.

He's right. You surely liked that.

His smug smirk makes you annoyed, rolling your eyes at him once more as you quickly sit back, eyes averted to the screen.

What a brat.

[dorothylarouge]

Dorothy's Big List of Comic Book Recs - DC Comics Edition

I often get asks about getting into comic books, and how daunting it seems, given the huge back catalog of titles and issues available. I'm here to tell you it doesn't have to be scary! From miniseries that act as good introductions to characters to runs on ongoing titles by individual creators that serve on jumping-on points, there's lots of ways to get into comics without having to have a lot of background knowledge, and I'm going to give you a lot of potential places to start. Please note that this post only covers DC Comics; Marvel and indie lists will follow! Also note that I haven't read everything, and I won't recommend something I haven't read, so a few runs or books some consider must-reads may not be on here. This is based purely on books I have read and enjoy, and that I think are suitable for new readers. I'm also not including books from the Milestone and Wildstorm imprints as they're kind of a separate sphere to me, although some Vertigo books may be included.

SUPERMAN

All-Star Superman by Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely: This is the book that made me a Superman fan. It is an out-of-continuity celebration of Superman and his world, and an exploration of why Superman as a character has endured for nearly a century.

Superman For All Seasons by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale: A gorgeously-illustrated and Americana-flavored recounting of Superman's early years in Metropolis, anchored narratively by the changing of the seasons.

Superman: Birthright by Mark Waid and Lenil Francis Yu: For my money, the definitive origin story for Superman. Great characterization of the entire supporting cast, including Lex Luthor, make this a perfect entry point into the character and his world.

Action Comics (1939) and Superman (1939) by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster: The earliest Superman stories are still really great, and have a populist edge that many later stories sanded down. They're pulpy and fun and I recommend them!

Action Comics (2011) by Grant Morrison: This run spans issues 1-18, plus a special issue 0, of the series launched as part of DC's mostly-failed 2011 reboot, and covers Superman's early years in this continuity. The early issues bring back some of the edge that was present in the Golden Age comics, and the rest of the run is solid stuff as well. Morrison always comes highly recommended.

Superman: Red and Blue: An athology series that focuses on a broad sampling of Superman's world and supporting cast, written and drawn by various creators.

Action Comics (1939) by Geoff Johns: Specifically, I would say that issues 855 to 870 are a good span to be checking out for Geoff Johns' run on the book. These include some great stories focusing on classic Superman villains such as Bizarro, Toyman, and Brainiac.

Superman Smashes the Klan by Gene Luen Yang and Guruhiru: An adaptation of a classic Superman radio story set in the 1940s and focusing on Superman's place as an immigration narrative. And Superman gets to rough up some Klansmen!

Man and Superman by Marv Wolfman and Claudio Castellini: Another story of Superman's early years, this one focusing on his struggles to adapt to life in the big city after moving from Smallville, as well as his first encounters with Lois Lane and Lex Luthor.

Superman: Up in the Sky by Tom King and Andy Kubert: A lovely self-contained story which demonstrates just how far Superman will go to save a single life.

Superman (1939) by Elliot S! Maggin: This mammoth run spans issues 247 to 400 of the classic title, and includes some fantastic stories such as "Must There Be a Superman?" (issue 247), "The Greatest Green Lantern of All" (issue 257), and "The Living Legends of Superman" (issue 400)

Superman (1939), Adventure Comics (1938) and Action Comics (1939) by Mort Weisinger: This run spans a lot of the Silver Age era of Superman, including Action Comics #241-392, Superman #120-231, and Adventure Comics #247-396. It's a lot of issues, but in those days you can mostly read them in any order since they're pretty self-contained. This run includes a lot of classic villains and stories, as well as the earliest adventures of the Legion of Super-Heroes.

Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow by Tom King and Bliquis Evely: A spacefaring take on a True Grit-style western with gorgeous art, and a definitive story for the Girl of Steel.

Superman’s Pal, Jimmy Olsen (2019) by Matt Fraction and Steve Liber: a madcap romp and a delightful sendup of Silver Age weirdness.

BATMAN

Batman: The Long Halloween and Batman: Dark Victory by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale: Another Loeb/Sale joint, focusing on Batman's earlier years and the transition of Gotham's underworld from the mob to a coterie of costumed kooks.

Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth by Grant Morrison and Dave McKean: An examination of the facility housing Batman's rogues, and what those rogues symbolize in his world.

Batman (1940) by Dennis O'Neil: This is a classic run which re-established a dark tone for the Dark Knight which has endured to this day. The run spans Batman #224-268, along with a handful of issues of Detective Comics. Among the major developments of this run are the introduction of Ra's al Ghul and his daughter Talia.

Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying by Marv Wolfman, George Perez, and Jim Aparo: The definitive story about why Batman needs Robin. Read it in trade since the story spans both the Batman and New Titans titles.

Batman by Grant Morrison: I'm hesitant to include this because it delves so deep into Batman lore, but it really is essential reading, introducing Damian Wayne along with other concepts. Please do disregard Morrison's frankly appalling characterization of Talia. Read in omnibus format as the run spans multiple titles.

Batman: The Killing Joke by Alan Moore and Brian Bolland: It's cliche at this point but the story still is fantastic and one of the best Joker stories ever written.

Batman: No Man's Land: An epic storyline across many titles dealing with Gotham being cut off from the US after a massive earthquake and Batman's efforts to keep the peace in an abandoned city. Read in trade format.

Batman (2011) by Scott Snyder: This run spans issues 1 through 51 of the New 52 relaunch, and introduces concepts such as the Court of Owls. It's a fun run, including a brief period where Jim Gordon acts as Batman.

Batwoman (2011) by J.H. Williams III and W. Hayden Blackman: A gorgeously-illustrated book about Batman's cousin and her adventures as the Batwoman. Worth reading for the art alone.

Nightwing (1996) by Chuck Dixon: Dixon's a tool but this is still the definitive Nightwing run. This run includes volume 1 of Nightwing, a 4-issue mini, as well as issues 1-70 of volume 2, which establishes Dick's home base of Bludhaven as well as his rogues' gallery.

Detective Comics (1937) by Paul Dini: This run spans issues 821 to 852, and features some great stories by one of the great Batman writers and a co-creator of the classic animated series.

Robin (2021) by Joshua Williamson: A great run that helps to flesh out Damian Wayne's place in the DC Universe.

The Boy Wonder by Juni Ba: A great story with gorgeous art that focuses on Damian Wayne and his relationships with the other members of the Batman Family.

Batgirl (2000): The first series to focus on a Batgirl, specifically Cassandra Cain, the best Batgirl, as she struggles to adapt to life after an abusive childhood being raised as an assassin.

WONDER WOMAN

Wonder Woman (2006) by Gail Simone: Simone's run is the longest that a woman has ever written comics' premiere female superhero, and it's just good comic book fun. The run spans issues 14 to 44.

Wonder Woman (1987) by Phil Jimenez: Jimenez's childhood love of Wonder Woman shines through in his run, which placed a renewed focus on Diana's supporting cast and especially her family. The run spans issues 164 to 188.

Wonder Woman (1942) and Sensation Comics (1942) by William Moulton Marston: Wonder Woman's creator laid down the basics of the character and her world, and those early Golden Age stories are still a great read. They're fun, engaging - and more than a little kinky with hindsight.

Wonder Woman (1987) by Greg Rucka: In the early 21st century, Greg Rucka was The Guy for writing female superheroes, and his run on Wonder Woman is great. It features Diana becoming an ambassador, writing a book, fighting Medusa, and matching wits with Veronica Cale, her own Lex Luthor. The run spans 196-226. I must also mention Wonder Woman: The Hiketeia, also by Rucka, which is a Greek tragedy where Diana finds herself torn between duty and justice.

Wonder Woman Historia: The Amazons by Kelly Sue DeConnick: A beautifully-illustrated story of the Amazons and the Greek goddesses, which lays the foundations for Wonder Woman's world.

Wonder Woman (1987) by George Perez: This run reintroduced Diana after Crisis on Infinite Earths, and the first 25 issues feature Perez's simply-unmatched artwork. The whole run spans the first 62 issues of the book, and serves as a blueprint for most subsequent takes on the character.

THE FLASH

Flash Comics (1940) and All-Flash (1941): The Golden Age Flash and his early stories by his creator Gardner Fox. Must-read if you're interested in Jay Garrick, the first Flash.

Showcase #4, 8, and 13, and The Flash (1959): The Silver Age Flash, Barry Allen, made his debut and early adventures here. Much of the art is by the great Carmine Infantino, and Gardner Fox returned to write some stories. The whole concept of the multiverse debuted in this run.

The Flash (1987) by Mark Waid (as well as Grant Morrison and Mark Millar): This run starts in issue 62 and lasts until 162, with a brief run by Grant Morrison and Mark Millar towards the end. This run is the definitive Flash run, focusing on Barry Allen's protege Wally West maturing in the role of the Flash and establishing himself as the true fastest man alive.

The Flash (1987) by Geoff Johns: This run spans issues 164 to 225, and refocuses the Flash's traditional rogues' gallery, offering modern origins for many of them, while also introducing new foes like Girder, Blacksmith, and a new Reverse-Flash.

The Flash (2016) by Joshua Williamson: This run spans issues 1-88, as well as 750 to 762 of the relaunched volume 1 of the book. I hate the recentering of Barry Allen from 2009 to 2019, but Williamson's run is the most tolerable, and serves as a love letter to the Flash, while also setting the stage for Wally to return as the primary holder of the mantle.

The Flash (2023) by Simon Spurrier: The current run of the Flash, it focuses on Wally as the main Flash and the Flash Family as an ensemble. The extended first arc features a threat to time itself, and goes into some really surreal and experimental territory for a Flash book.

Impulse (1995) by Mark Waid, et al.: A more lighthearted and comedic companion book to Waid's run on Flash, this book focuses on Bart Allen, Barry's grandson, who was raised in the future and has the attention span of a goldfish, as well as his relationship with the zen guru of speed, Max Mercury.

GREEN LANTERN

The Green Lantern (2018) by Grant Morrison: A police procedural starring Hal Jordan that gets into some pretty freaky territory, with gorgeous interiors by Liam Sharp.

Green Lanterns (2016) by Sam Humphries: A buddy cop type title focusing on the team of Simon Baz and Jessica Cruz. Humphries' run spans the first 32 issues of the book.

Far Sector by N.K. Jemisin and Jamal Campbell: A murder mystery in space which establishes a new Green Lantern, Jo Mullein. Super easy to get ahold of since it was rereleased as part of DC's Compact Comics line of $9.99 trades.

Green Lantern/Green Arrow (1970) by Dennis O'Neil and Neal Adams: This run brought a social conscience to comics as Green Arrow was reinvented as a left-winger and a man of the 60s counterculture, joining Green Lantern on a quest across America. The run spans issues 76 to 89 of the book.

Green Lantern (1990) by Ron Marz. Marz's run starts in issue 48, and sees the Green Lantern paragon Hal Jordan descend into darkness before being replaced as defender of Earth by Kyle Rayner. The run lasts until issue 125, and as Kyle is my favorite Lantern I have a fondness for it.

Green Lantern (2005) 1-67 and (2011) 0-20 by Geoff Johns: Johns brought Hal Jordan back as the main GL, and his run expanded the world of Green Lantern by introducing the emotional spectrum. His run is the basis for most Green Lantern lore going forward, and is pretty essential reading.

Green Lantern: War Journal by Phillip Kennedy Johnson and Montos: A 12-issue series featuring John Stewart as he ventures into space to fight a dark force corrupting life in the galaxy. The new definitive John Stewart run.

TEAMS AND TEAM-UPS

JLA by Grant Morrison, Mark Waid, Joe Kelly, et al.: This was a back-to-basics approach to the Justice League with a core group of characters. Morrison's run on the book is probably the best, but Waid and Kelly also bring in some good stories.

Justice League of America (2007) by Brad Meltzer and Dwayne McDuffie: Another relaunch of the time, this time with a large roster inspired by the classic 1970s era of the League. Some great stories in this run, including a crossover with the Milestone characters.

JSA (1999) by Geoff Johns, Paul Levitz: The first team in comics was relaunched in the 90s by Geoff Johns, who established the Justice Society as a family first, later bringing in the Marvel Family for some great stories fleshing out Black Adam's character.

Justice Society of America (2007) by Geoff Johns: Johns' second run on the JSA is a continuation of the first, with a focus on legacy and new heroes reclaiming the mantles of Golden Age heroes. Introduces the delightful Maxine Hunkel as the wind-powered Cyclone.

New Teen Titans by Marv Wolfman and George Perez: Lightning in a bottle. This book likely saved DC after the disastrous DC Implosion. The best Titans run of all time, quality of art and writing that has never been recaptured with this team. If you loved the cartoon as a kid you will love this book.

Young Justice by Peter David and Todd Nauck: For all intents and purposes, the Teen Titans for the 90s generation. Funny, heartfelt, with great cartoony art by Nauck.

Doom Patrol (1987) by Grant Morrison, Rachel Pollack: A truly, wonderfully weird tale of the most off-beat superheroes of all, with themes of identity, life, and art woven throughout.

The Terrifics by Jeff Lemire, Gene Luen Yang: At a time when Marvel was treating the Fantastic Four like dirt, DC put out their own version, which captures the wonderous adventure of a Silver Age science fiction book with some great character work from a great core cast. A thoroughly underrated title.

Suicide Squad (1987) by John Ostrander: An often darkly-humorous book about a team of second-string supervillains coerced into doing the government's dirty work. The definitive Suicide Squad run.

Villains United (2005), Secret Six (2006), and Secret Six (2008) by Gail Simone: A group of supervillains forced together by circumstance and find themselves working together as mercenaries. A real found family of freaks type of situation.

Legion of Super-Heroes by Paul Levitz and Keith Giffen: This run spans issues 282 to 313 of the 1980 book, and 1 to 63 of the 1984 book. Includes some of the greatest Legion stories, including the Great Darkness Saga.

Birds of Prey (1999) by Gail Simone: This run covers issues 56 to 108, and focuses on female heroes kicking ass, basically Charlie's Angels with superheroes.

Batman/Superman: World's Finest by Mark Waid and Dan Mora: A team-up book between Batman, Superman, and the DC Universe, set earlier in their careers.

Justice League International (1987) by Keith Giffen, J.M. DeMatteis, and Kevin Maguire: As much a workplace comedy as a superhero book, this is a very different take on the Justice League, from the time when "bwa-ha-ha" ruled the DCU.

THE FOURTH WORLD

The Fourth World Epic by Jack Kirby: Read in omnibus or trade format. The first stories of the Fourth World from the King of Comics, Jack Kirby. The story spans Kirby's run on Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen, The New Gods, The Forever People, and Mister Miracle, and ends in The Hunger Dogs.

Orion (2000) by Walt Simonson: A follow-up to Jack Kirby's epic, this book focuses on Orion, the son of Darkseid, and his quest to vanquish his father once and for all.

Bug! the Adventures of Forager by Lee Allred and Mike Allred: With Mike Allred's striking artwork, this book serves as a love letter to Kirby's time at DC Comics.

Mister Miracle (2017) by Tom King and Mitch Gerads: A slightly-psychedelic take on the Fourth World, focusing on Scott Free and his family with the backdrop of a bloody war unfolding between New Genesis and Apokolips

New Gods (1989) by Mark Evanier: This was a return to form for the New Gods, who hadn't had a lot of new stories to themselves since Kirby left DC, and it's a great read.

AND THE REST

Green Arrow: The Longbow Hunters (1987) and Green Arrow (1988) issues 1-80, by Mike Grell: Probably the definitive Green Arrow run. Political, edgy, and mature.

Animal Man (1988) by Grant Morrison: A fun and surreal series of adventures featuring one of the DCU's unsung heroes.

Booster Gold (1986) by Dan Jurgens: A Reagan-era story of a money-obsessed celebrity superhero rediscovering the altruistic spirit of a true hero buried deep within him.

Zatanna: Bring Down the House by Mariko Tamaki and Javier Rodriguez: A quest through the realms of magic as a reluctant witch gets caught in the crossfire of a mystical war.

Amethyst, Princess of Gemworld (1983, 1985, and 1987): For fans of magical girls and sword and sorcery, this is a must-read. A girl from Earth discovers she is the princess of a mystical realm and embarks on a quest to save it.

The Question (1987) by Dennis O'Neil: A grounded, philosophical story of a man trying his best to make things better in a city abandoned to corruption and decay.

Monkey Prince by Gene Luen Yang and Bernard Chang: Drawing on Chinese mythology, this book focuses on an unlikely superhero with connections to the monkey king, Sun Wukong.

Blue Beetle (2006) by John Rogers and Keith Giffen: Giffen leaves after issue 10, but Rogers continues until issue 25, and the rest of the volume is pretty decent as well. It establishes Jaime Reyes as the Blue Beetle, and if the cards had been better he could have easily become DC's answer to Spider-Man. Ah, well. It's always nice when he gets a book, and this is probably the best one.

Galaxy: The Prettiest Star by Jadzia Axelrod and Jess Taylor: a YA graphic novel featuring a transgender alien princess. What's not to like?

Hawkworld (1989 and 1990): A science fiction epic of Thanagar, world of the hawks. A great read on its own, but it unfortunately did a lot of damage to the continuity of the Hawkman family of characters.

Hawkgirl (2023) by Jadzia Axelrod and Amancay Nahuelpan: A fun little miniseries focusing on Kendra Saunders moving to Metropolis and having to deal with the trauma and hardship of her past. Guest starring Galaxy from that other book!

Starman (1994) by James Robinson: A grungy, Gen X book about legacy and what we leave behind, with plenty of hooks for the new reader to investigate regarding the Golden Age superheroes.

The Power of Shazam! by Jerry Ordway: The post-Crisis take on Captain Marvel and the Marvel family. A great read, and the last great run for the classic versions of these characters.

Sandman (1989) by Neil Gaiman. Obligatory Neil Gaiman is a piece of shit out of the way, his Sandman book is a beautiful and at times horrifying read, and its importance as a story manages to outweigh my disdain for its creator.

Swamp Thing (1982) by Alan Moore and Steve Bissette: Moore's run begins in issue 19 and ends in issue 64. This is the definitive Swamp Thing run, which set the standard for all to follow. It's a creepy and often touching story which remains some of Moore's best work in the medium.

[fridayth13]

Could I request Zhongli reuniting with his wife after the two had a falling out 500 years ago?

crushed cor lapis.

↳ zhongli × gn!immortal!artist!reader

↳ part one, part two

↳ genre: soft angst at the beginning, but it's mostly bittersweet | wordcount: 1.6k | warnings: none

↳ notes: i ended up with less angst than i thought i would have. but i did want to explore the thought of time passage and fighting for people who are going to live forever, even if it's subtle; reader is immortal and implied to be an adeptus or a god, but the kind isn't very important; ive had an idea for zhongli and an artist reader for a long time so i tried to combine it i hope you don't mind; as with the gender. i did write with a fem!reader in mind as per the request but in the end, the gender didn't need to be specified for anything so i left it gender neutral; i tried to give reader a more divine disposition about them so the writing ended up really flowery, but in any case i hope you enjoy! i really did have fun writing this one

You were a painter.

In your old life, as you liked to call it, however, you were a god. Your domain of influence laid in artistry and beauty.

Or rather, that was what Morax used to tell you. Archons like him were the only beings in Teyvat with real domains of influence. But you wouldn't really stop him if that was his way of calling you pretty.

That was about five hundred years ago. Nowadays was a very different story.

You crushed the yellow berries in your mortar and pestle to turn into paint for tomorrow's commission.

You liked your job in Liyue Harbor. As quaint and.. human as it was, you thought there was divinity to be found in the painstaking recreation of the things around you. Though a painting couldn't rival a Kamera in terms of accuracy, you were certain it completely surpassed the device in most other things.

You slowed your movements, surveying the consistency of the paint and the color. That would probably do. You'd collected quite a lot, so you supposed it was time to head back. All you were really lacking earlier was yellow.

And so you trekked on home from the terraces, skipping over stumps of cor lapis and sunset-painted grass along your way.

As you finally reached your home in the harbor, the sun had fully gone down. The lanterns lit, casting the entire city in a soft, warm glow. The neighboring waters reflected the deep blue of the sky and the speckles of rust and gold adorning every building in sight.

You opened your door and you thought of Morax, wondering if he knew five hundred years ago what beauty would settle upon his previously war torn nation. Leaning on the doorframe, you watched over it for a while. Children playing, kites flying, dinner being prepared, laughter and joy running amok.

You don't like to think about him too much, or how his silence is present in every part of the city that was all him, despite having nothing to do with him any longer. No matter how much time had passed, you seemed stuck in the first night he decided not to apologize.

Still, five hundred years was a long time. Although it felt like the blink of an eye, even immortals had to move on eventually.

You gathered your materials inside and closed the door behind you.

—

The mountains may erode, but they will always be mountains.

You recalled his own words as you saw him again for the first time in five hundred years.

A human-sized Rex Lapis stood before you, hands behind his back, dressed to the nines, pristine, and put together, and perfect, and not at all like he ought to have seemed like at your first meeting in several centuries. Though at the very same time, you couldn't imagine him looking any other way.

You bitterly savored the way he avoided your eyes in front of his boss.

"So this is him!" She said. The lively Director Hu Tao of the local funeral parlor was Rex Lapis's boss. You tried not to laugh. "Our new consultant, Mr. Zhongli."

You set your canvas down onto its easel, then the bulk of your dyes and paints on the floor. You did this without averting your eyes, as if trying to burn him if he ever had the nerve to look back at you.

He did not. And to her credit, it seemed Hu Tao noticed it as well. So as not to make your client too uncomfortable, you decided to take a step towards them.

"Mr. Zhongli." You said. With the proximity you put between you, he had no choice but to look back at you. Not a lot changed about him in human form, but by far, his eyes were the most the same. Down to the hard, intense stare, and the set of his brows. You wondered how many other people in Liyue he'd enchanted with them while he was busy avoiding you.

"Mr. Zhongli?" You repeated, a little less amused. Though you somewhat enjoyed how stupefied he looked at your appearance, you'd endured his silence long enough. "My name is Y/N. It's an honor to meet you here."

This seemed to regain him his senses. That, or Hu Tao's suspicious back and forth glances between the two of you.

Zhongli cleared his throat.

"..The honor is mine."

Hu Tao nodded, seeming satisfied for now. She clapped her hands together in excitement, turning to you.

"Alright! I suppose I'll leave you to it then. I have complete faith that you'll be able to depict the poise and elegance of my esteemed consultant."

You gave her your best half smile.

"Well, I'll try."

"No need to be modest! I've seen your work before. You're one of, if not the best, painter in Liyue. Just ask Mr. Zhongli! He's been very taken with your paintings even before we first met. He speaks very highly of you."

You crossed your arms. "You don't say?"

Five hundred years or the blink of an eye, you could still see his embarrassment without him having to say a word.

—

Director Hu Tao had business to take care of for the funeral parlor, and so left with a flourish, and a "Make sure to get his good side!" as she ran off.

You both continued to speak as civilians for a little while. He sat down at a table on the porch, a steaming pot of tea on said table between you. Your face was obscured to him through the thick white canvas.

Avoiding conversation was easy, but not. Comfortable, but not. Natural, but not. It shouldn't have been. As such was the nature of a marriage to the Geo Archon, you supposed. Or rather, the current lack thereof. But even that was up in airs.

"How.. How have you been?"

Your responding glare was unseen to him, but he heard it in the vitreous tone of your reply.

"Fine." You said. "Something must've happened to you though. Your eloquence seems to have disappeared into thin air."

"..You are still upset. I see."

"In what world would I be upset, Mr. Zhongli?" Your use of his mortal name created a crease in his brow. You gently brushed over it on his painting.

"I didn't think you'd want to see me."

"You still could've asked." You muttered, momentarily leaning sideways to look him in the eye. "For someone so revered for his wisdom, your brain still seems to be as hard as rocks."

You caught his surprised expression as you turned back to the canvas. You didn't allow him another word.

"Honestly, who ghosts their own spouse after an argument like that? You'd think the best time would be after.. five hours. Five days. Maybe five weeks after. Not five centuries—"

You caught him mumble, "Well, it's not as if you tried to talk to me either."

"I didn't think I needed to. You made it very clear you wanted me to leave you to die in the Archon War all on your heroic lonesome."

When he didn't respond, you snuck a glance.

The sun's rays were at the precipice of turning gold in its descent into the sea. The glow smeared his porcelain cheeks in amber, his eyes in glitter, the metallic components of his suit in light. He looked like a monument. Tall, statuesque, and lonely. Almost like his mountainous true form. More beautiful than even his numerous statues across Liyue could capture. More than you could capture. Though you did certainly try.

Annoyed and angrily pining as you were, you still tried to get his eyes right. The little flecks of rust against gold. Like cuts of cor lapis crushed to shimmering powder in the Archon's hand. A man of his own making.

You looked at Zhongli as the golden hour faded, slowly turning dusky pink. His eyes swam in wistfulness as he stared out at the harbor. You couldn't help the dull twinge of sorrow deep in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."

You didn't know how to follow up. You weren't entirely sure what you were apologizing for. But it felt nice to hear it back from him.

When he finally looked back at you, you were tracing the rich scarlet of his eyeliner onto the canvas.

At some point, he turned on the lamp and set it down beside you while you worked on the finishing touches.

"You're better than I remember." He whispered like he thought you couldn't hear him.

You weren't sure what to say to that either. You just kept painting.

—

"This doesn't change anything. I'm still angry with you."

"Of course."

Zhongli never seemed to run out of tea. Despite not having brewed a new pot throughout your stay, the one on the table continued to steam, its aroma wafting leisurely throughout the room. When he offered you a cup after you left the canvas out to dry, you let yourself take it. You allowed him a calmer response when he spoke.

"This may upset you a bit more, but I am also somewhat bothered you never tried to talk to me."

"So we are at an impasse."

Of course, it did occur to you that you were both being hardheaded and moronic. But you were comforted by a few things.

"It would seem so." Zhongli nodded.

"Or maybe not." You quipped, glancing pointedly at an old painting on the wall. "You seem to have been stalking me, Mr. Zhongli."

"I think stalking might be a slight exaggeration."

"Oh, really."

Even as the mountains erode over the centuries, from the dust, they are fated to reform anew.

dividers from @clutteredfun

[briarberrythornedhart]

Haywire

Contains: Eddie Munson & Reader, fluff, sincerity, vulnerability, friends to something more

🦇 ✏️ 🦇

You were just friends. Just hanging out. And you’d thought there would be more people around tonight as human buffer BUT NO it was just you and him in his living room. And he was sitting so close it made you dizzy.

Ope.

He caught you staring. Your gaze was lovingly drifting over his stunning features and when he noticed you looking, his eyebrows shot up.

He waved his hand in a slow figure eight, wiggling his fingers - like he was casting some sort of spell on you.

Maybe he was casting a spell on you? It would explain a lot.

“You okay in there?” He laughed. He snapped the fingers of his left hand a couple times and you must have jumped because then he snorted “Sorry, sorry! You zoned out, though...like...you left me, where’d you go?” He grinned at you, head cocked to the side.

“I’d never leave. I mean I’m paying attention, What is the next step?” You asked, trying to re-focus and NOT on his lips, or his jaw, or the length of his thick pretty neck that you so wanted to kiss and lick and bite down on …oh gawd... how you wanted to taste him all over!

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Ya sure you wanna do this? Right now?? It’s okay if you are bored. This is not the fun part for most folks.”

“Yeah! NO - I’m not bored.” You clutched your notebook to your chest and regulated your breathing. No more yelling FFS you told yourself. ” I told you - I’ve wanted to play DnD for a long time and you know… never got a chance to even roll up a character. The stars just weren’t aligned for it I guess and the group near me didn’t want me in the mix....”

“Well, that’s not a problem here. There won’t be any of that bullshit on my watch. There’s Equal opportunity for doom or glory in Hellfire Club.” Eddie let the words doom and glory rumble in his chest. Theatrical as ever.

“Thank you.” You smiled and felt heat flush your cheeks.

“You’re so welcome, you always are.” he shook his mane of hair and chuckled again, wry and self-effacing. Which you would NEVER have expected from this guy. When you were introduced to him he was cocky as hell, strutting around and getting right into your personal space and teasing you like you’d been close friends forever and then - you get him alone like this- and he transforms into this sweet and modest and shy… total gentleman.

You were so completely fucked.

I mean, if only. You wished you were. But this was all so sadly gentlemanly and platonic.

He licked his lips and tapped his pencil on the DM’s guide while he pondered something seriously. Your mouth watered. And since he was so intently not paying attention to you- you took him in - looked him all over.

Your lips felt suddenly so dry and hot and his lips were the cure for every little thing that afflicted you, you knew this. That his perfect lips were the Answer. They were pink, slightly redder and chapped and plumped by his own teeth worrying at his bottom lip and… oh he was speaking to you. Focus.

“But maybe we should wait till later?? Because you seem very baked right now.” Eddie took your pencil away from you, grinning. Your pencil that had made its way (eraser first) between your lips and was getting bitten to hell. “Sweetheart, It was just a beer and we shared that joint…Did you not eat anything today??” He looked mildly concerned. “Do you want a snack or something? Coffee? I think we have Sanka in the cupboard… although what would be the point....”

You shook your head. No.

You didn’t admit it but You were not high. Or tipsy.

That was the thing. Eddie did this to you.

Yes, you’d faked taking that hit off his joint — hoping to look very chill about him offering you one. You’d barely taken a sip of the PBR he’d offered.

You Didn’t need any single thing to make you feel as high as THIS. When you had those big pretty eyes looking at you?? You were floating!

His lashes fluttered when he inhaled, held in the smoke, and then his eyes stared into your soul when he blew out (blowing away from your face - politely) and that just made you want to do unspeakably depraved things. For him. To him. On him.

“We could just… hang out.” Eddie said. “Plenty of time to make a character before next Wednesday and stuff.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. we don’t need to have an activity to be ummm together, you can just ride that wave you are on and I’ll... play guitar at you or something.” He looked down again and huffed almost a laugh. “Obviously you don’t want That, no one wants that, but we could watch a movie....”

The overhead light cast the shadow of his lashes down over his cheekbones.

“I’d like to hear you play and sing one of your songs.” You said.

“Oh no no no,” Eddie leaned backwards and put his hands behind his head, legs spread at the knees - making you long to climb into his lap “I don’t know who told you I can sing... but they were exaggerating... I can scream my lyrics in my less than an octave range.”

“But you are the frontman, you play and sing lead, right??”

“That’s only until we can get Gareth a better mic set up - he’s got a great voice - like an angel.”

“I still want to hear you.” You crossed your arms over your chest and nodded. “c’mon”

“You know what? I think I like this bossy side of you. Is this what happens when you loosen up a bit, you order people around?” Eddie smirked. “It makes me want to do whatever you say.”

“Really?” You asked, your mind reeling at the impossibilities.

“Yes.” Eddie’s tongue rolled over one canine tooth. He pointed at you. “Don’t use your power over me for evil.”

You may have gasped. Just a little.

“Or do.” Eddie scootched closer and his knee touched yours. “Just don’t get me in trouble.”

“Show me what you wear on stage.” You said. Well... demanded.

“It’s not that different than this...” He gestured down at his ripped jeans and his Anthrax T shirt under his gray hoodie. “No corpse paint, no tight leather - we’re thrash - more substance than style. Noooo, don’t look at me all disappointed...I’m just not fancy.” He rubbed his hands over his face.

“I’m not disappointed, i just really doubt you play your fancy red crackle finish guitar... in a gray sweatshirt.”

“Okay, I wear a tank top or something cropped because it’s hot as balls on stage and I pull my hair back sometimes or put my bandana on to keep the sweat from dripping in my eyes, that’s the sum total effort I put in okay? you don’t Really want to hear about me sweating my ass off, right?? Grossing you out, right?”

“No. are you gonna show me or not.”

“Yes. mistress, if you take that tone I guess I must.” Eddie slapped his thighs and stood, “Be right back.” He turned half way down the hall. “If you laugh, you gotta go. You’ll be out that door, high or not.”

He shook his head as he retreated down the hallway and then in a few minutes he emerged with his hair up in a loose bun.

He did a slow awkward turn for you. He was in a scissor cropped Megadeth shirt, with his pretty red guitar unfortunately, blocking your view of his stomach. As he turned you could ogle the curve of his back - see how his underwear - probably cotton boxers - were visible just above his jeans and belt.

“See.... not much to write home about. Functional, though. Practical.” He shrugged.

“You look hot.” you said. without thinking.

Eddie gave you an assessing look. “That’s probably the ganja talking. Or did you mean I look overheated, because yeah, it’s a little warm in the trailer but...”

For some reason this made you furious. “No. You look fucking hot, Eddie! You always look hot and I’m not fucking high. C’mere.”

His eyes went wide, he unslung his guitar and leaned it gently against a chair. “Okay... mistress.” He jumped over the coffee table and sat at the edge of the couch - leaning forward. Leaning towards you - at attention. “Any other demands?” he wasn’t being sarcastic though...

“At shows, you should crop your shirts higher, you should go commando under your jeans “ you snapped the elastic of his underwear. “…and you should not invite me over when no one else is around because apparently I go a little haywire when we are alone together.”

Eddie leaned in and kissed you. A kiss like spun sugar, ephemeral, impossibly sweet, and over too soon.

“I go a little haywire when you are near me too.” He said.

[merakiui]

I see a lot of the sugar daddy thoughts going around, but I think a lot of the cast are average guys. Who do you think is working a second job to try to afford that sugar baby lifestyle for Darling, and does she know about his secret?

:O you're so right!!! There are many characters who are just average and aren't from rich or royal families like the others. My mind immediately goes to someone like Trey or Cater. Perhaps to make it easier for thoughts, here are the groupings:

Can genuinely afford sugar daddy lifestyle (i.e. family is rich/very financially stable): Leona, Jade, Floyd, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus

Somewhere in the middle (not nearly as extravagant as the above category; perhaps middle class/upper-middle class): Riddle, Azul, Neige, Rook

Average middle class/lower-middle class/working class (comfortable and average/normal lifestyle): Ace, Deuce, Trey, Cater, Jack, Jamil, Epel, Sebek, Silver, Lilia

Lower class: Ruggie

I think it's cute to imagine Deuce working so hard so that he can afford a lifestyle like that. Being able to support you is a wonderful thing, so he'll do his best to give you the world!!! Or Riddle using that doctor's salary of his (in an au in which he is a successful doctor) to fund your sugar baby life). So many thoughts!!!

I feel like some of the characters (in their youth) are already well-off by way of inheritance. Azul's mother runs the most successful restaurant in the Coral Sea, so of course that brings in lots of money. And then Azul himself has his own business, which will inevitably grow and become even more successful. Or the twins who have never known anything else outside of being wealthy because they've always been spoiled and the "family business" seems to be very successful.

It's difficult to place Rollo (my love, my light, my life) in one of the categories because we know so little about his family (aside from what happened to his little brother), but I like to imagine he'd live modestly. Rollo who works at a flower shop will forever be my favorite thought for him. Twst can't tell me his hobby is cleaning and his talent is gardening and not expect me to daydream about flower shop owner Rollo or househusband Rollo. OTL although it is fun to imagine him working extra hours or jobs just to be able to give you all the things you want. <3

OH!!!!! Or Cater!!!! Cater who has curated this entire persona for himself online. On Magicam, you think he lives so lavishly. How else is he able to afford being your sugar daddy? But then behind the scenes he's working so many jobs,,,, there is so much more I could say about this omg........ so many thoughts filling my brain. orz I love Cater.

[bl00dlight]

A Song of Shadow & Flame

CANON Dark! Aemond Targaryen x OC niece Targaryen. | SERIES

Warnings - Family trouble, violence, father issues, general suffering, teenagers getting their ass beat by said individuals over 18, not proof read.

Author's note ● Essentially part two of the previous chapter, get ready for some major mischief next chapter.

Word Count ~ 5.4k+

Tags - @mamawiggers1980

Index

i ● ii ● iii ● iv ● v ● vi ● vii● viii ● ix ● x ● xi ● xii ● xiii ● xiv ● xv

ix - 'The Last Supper'

The supper had gone on in relative peace, a quiet contempt lingering in the background but mostly, it seemed the Blacks and Greens of House Targaryen stuck to their relative side when it came to conversation. A few passing crude comments from Aegon had won the glares of Visenya and her siblings, especially when they were targeted towards Jace and Baela’s betrothal, but a scattering of toasts, seemingly made in good will seemed to draw attention away from the brewing tension.

There were a few moments, Visenya might wonder if such contempt would erupt into something larger, however it seemed to be kept at bay by the King’s presence, most specifically after his speech which although seemed to harbour some kind of effect upon both the Queen and Rhaenyra – his words of familial love landed upon death ears of the younger members of House Targaryen. There was little love to rekindle, if there ever any to begin with – and the wounds that had been made had festered for so long that they had rotted into their very bones. There would be no reconciliation between the two Green Prince’s and the Black siblings. Of course, Princess Helaena being the odd one out in which no one seemed to have any bone to pick with her. It was that in which sparked Prince Jacaerys to offer the lonesome princess a dance. Most specifically after Helaena had made a toast, mentioning her brother-husband Aegon’s neglect.

Visenya had noticed the exchange between her two uncles as they watched their sister dance freely, with her brother. She’d never seen Heleana smile or laugh brightly; it was rather heartwarming in truth.

But such a scene had a dark shadow casted upon it, as Prince Aemond turned his body to face his sister, and Prince Jacaerys – his jaw hardened by the sight of one his half-sister's bastard spawn daring to make such a brazen gesture. However, Aemond’s glare would be brought to a halt, as in his illness, King Viserys grew weary, spawning all eyes to draw upon him as his wife, Alicent called for the old man to be taken back to bed to rest.

As Visenya gazed with a glimmer of sorrow within her eyes upon her withering Grandsire, she noticed the servants pass, holding what seemed to be but a rather large pig, stuffed with an apple in her mouth. The princess had always thought such a sight was particularly gruesome – even more gruesome than any bloodshed she had witnessed earlier that day.

It was a rather cruel gesture, to slaughter something then display it’s cooked corpse with little but an apple shoved into it's mouth. It hardly seemed appetising at all, it seemed brutal. She had supposed it was what she had liked so much about dragons, despite such chaos one could unleash, they were not brutal in the way men were. They do not require their meals be presented so prettily as to draw attention from the fact they had slayed a creature to feed. Death by dragonfire was quick, easy. No apple required.

Visenya’s thoughts were soon brought back to the supper as the small snicker of Lucerys was heard beside her. She followed his gaze as he looked upon the pig, then up to Aemond. One thought in her mind.

The Pink Dread.

The young prince Lucerys giggled again, and his eyes gleamed with mischief. He thought longingly to the prank he had pulled upon his uncle, it seemed after all these years he had forgotten the mischief that had been made in the name of poking fun at his uncle’s lack of a dragon in their youth.

Visenya’s face dropped for a moment, both in amusement and apprehension – as she noted the one eyed stare from across the table. Oh, he knew…

It was clear, Aemond was once again being mocked so subliminally – so underhandly that none else upon the table had noticed the smarmy flicker of Luke’s eyes, nor the raised brow of his harlot sister. The one-eyed Prince had grown rather adapt to people’s expressions, having become suspicious of them for most of his life from the troubles in his youth. The fact that the bastards before him have gotten away with so freely tormenting him, so openly maiming and disregarding him, made Aemond’s blood boil beyond the point of consolation. No, there would be no reassuring, he cannot just break bread and forgive the suffering he has endured. He would not stand for a bastard born of a whore Princess and her lesser House lover to continue to show him no respect. He would not dare to take the mocking of the boy who stole his eye, who was weak and craven. Born of lesser blood, lesser nobility – illegitimacy. Born of his mother’s constant whoring, and the lecherous men who indulged in it.  

Nor would he tolerate the half-brained Targaryen bastard beside him snickering in Aemond’s wake either. Another product of the degeneracy of his Uncle Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra. Another abomination to the House Targaryen name. Regardless of how fare Visenya’s face or big her tits – it was all artifice to cover the rotting wench beneath. All sorcery to distract men from the fact she was conceived in a brothel by way of sin, then pawned off as another man’s child. Though, at least she was a bastard of royal blood. At least she had Prince Daemon as a father and not some brute of the Riverlands. That saved her in some regard from Aemond’s ire – but it was not necessarily for anything other than his own envy. Visenya, unlike her brothers was less craven, she had not bothered to pretend to settle any dust between them. Not played into any idea they were capable of making amends. And the only one who had ever bothered to show him some level of acknowledgement, once.

Though he had tried to keep it at bay, he did oft think of his niece in their youth, the time she had found him crying in the Dragonpits. How she did, to some degree attempt to console his humiliation. He had also remembered how she once defended him against Aegon’s torment, how he had not returned the favour – yet… she for some reason unbeknownst to him, went out of her way to punish Aegon.

As he glared across from Visenya, his gaze still hard and temper still soaring, Aemond found himself grow more angered by this. Angered because it had amounted to nothing, amounted to him being pushed back into the dirt by her. Betrayed.

He felt a swarming sense of disgust, he was but a boy and she tricked him. Made him feel the beginnings of kinship or trust. Bewitched him into believing she thought him anything more than pathetic and weak. It was all an elaborate jest, all another way to mock him.

But when it finally came down to it, when she could have proven herself not a traitorous slut, more devoted to her Strong bastard half-brothers, then a Prince born of her House… Visenya had turned away. She had looked away as her snickering little brother ripped Aemond’s very eye from its socket. Looked away when Aemond had coiled upon the ground in pain, blood pooling from his face and she protected the boy. She protected Luke knowing what he had done. Knowing that she could have stopped her foul siblings from beating and maiming Aemond. And for that reason, all traces of the seeds of kinship and affection were lost between them.

She could rise above her bastardy, become a great Targaryen as I, or as her father. But she indulges in her own depravity as they all do.

Aemond’s eye then narrowed upon Luke who still had a vile smile upon his young face, he noted how the boy had let out a harsh snicker as he noticed Aemond’s rising irritation. His mind went from wrathful to blackened.

The bastard mocks me, yet he thinks me the same boy who shall swallow his pride and conceal his temper. They all mock me, yet they think I shall turn the other cheek by virtue of breaking bread and kinship of blood… all know what they are, Strong bastards. They are not of my blood. They do not look like my blood nor behave like my blood. They are stains, lesser bred stains, who mock me to conceal the fact it is they who are outsiders, they who do not belong at a dragon’s table, nor their voices being heard by the realm. They are rats spoiling our line. They are the defect that spoils Targaryen blood. What irony they are 'Strong' when their legitimacy as royals is so weak.

Before Aemond could prevent himself, his temper had made his fist fly upon the table sending him to stand swiftly. He raised his goblet and then,

“Final tribute. To the health of my nephews, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise...” His soft voice silencing all idle chatter, all music swiftly stopping and the dancing Helaena and Jacaerys, too, stopped in their tracks.

Aemond watched with satisfaction as the heads upon the table had turned, he relished in their wide eyes, their bated breath. “Hm..” His eye widened, like a shark upon smelling blood, his softened his voice further, “…Strong.”

Visenya took a breath out, at that word. He must think himself terribly clever. She was already exasperated by the scene before her, she couldn’t even be angry at this point for it was only a matter of time before the pretence would be done away with. She sat back, noting the way her little brother’s face had dropped. The princess let her hand fall to Luke’s wrist, as he placed his goblet down, preventing him from exacerbating the situation.

As a bitter silence fell over the table, Queen Alicent brought her hands to her face in concern, her tone low, warning, “Aemond.”

But all warnings were lost upon the prince, as he smiled with satisfaction, gazing at Jace before raising his goblet further, his tone mockingly jovial, “Come… let us drain our cups to these three…Strong boys.”

Below him, Prince Aegon joined his brother in the false toast, his goblet raised as he looked glibly upon Luke and Jace.

To which both dark haired prince’s found themselves beyond the point of anger, and Jace in his rashness found his fists clenched tightly, his voice a dignified bark, “I dare you to say that again.”

Aemond turned his head swiftly, “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment.” Slowly, he stalked towards his nephew, “Do you not think yourself Strong?”

Prince Jacaerys had found himself already moving towards his silver haired uncle, and before he could stop himself, the young prince had slammed his fist against Aemond’s face. Before Visenya had even noticed, Luke escaped her grip sauntering towards Prince Aegon who had gleefully joined the brawl.

Aegon grabbed Luke swiftly, forcing his head into the table, sending herself and her sisters to their feet. “Luke-” Visenya barked.

Her brow furrowed in anger as once again, as she went to charge at Aegon, but she was met with her father’s hand suddenly grabbing at her wrist.

She looked into Daemon's eyes, and the rage that brewed within her fell away as she eased. She could not indulge; she could not get involved once again in such disputes. Not after what had happened last time.

In the corner, Rhaena was forcing her sister Baela back, as the young Lady had watched as her betrothed, Jacaerys was forced to the ground by a snickering Aemond.

“That is enough!” Queen Alicent had shouted harshly at her son.

The one eyed Prince, whom had barely so much as winced after being punched, chuckled gleefully, as he turned away from his fallen nephew. He had pushed Jace with such ease, it was not worth much more of a fight to Aemond, for he would easily beat them, and he took little pleasure in an unworthy opponent. It was no challenge.

Before any could comprehend, the guards had seized the two dark haired princes, pulling them away as now, all members of the table had risen. Daemon had let go of Visenya as they flocked to the detained Lucerys and Jacaerys, who still in their anger struggled to accost their uncles once more.

As Visenya had finally reached her younger brothers, she suddenly gripped at the hand of one of the guards who being particularly rough with Jace, her tone fierce, “OFF!” The princess pulled his thick hand free from her brother, and she gripped his arm.

Jace’s brown eyes seemed red with a dire fury, she gripped his wrist harder her expression giving a fair warning to temper his nerve. Their mother was now at their side, holding her belly as she looked upon her children with a slight despair.

Visenya turned her head and noticed the auburn hair of Alicent whipping around the table as she swiftly pulled Prince Aemond close, reprimanding him slightly out of ear shot.

“Why would you say such a thing before these people?” Alicent’s eyes were wide and unsettled as she gazed upon the sharp, satisfied features of her son.

She had always known there was something particularly strange about Aemond, strange of how easily such impulse for inciting such disharmony came to him and how he seemed to be unable to resist all desire to act upon whatever rage dwelled within him.

The prince narrowed his eye upon his mother, her hand gripping at his wrist tightly. He crooned and spoke again, his tone incendiary, “I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother.” Aemond tilted his head, ready to spark a greater fire, “Mm, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.”

With that he had ripped his hand straight from his mother’s grasp with ease, turning sharply as he approached his nephews and Visenya. His eye landing on Princess as she had gripped the arm of Luke too now, putting them both behind her.

Though it was little use, because Jace was far stronger than she and forced his way from her grasp, leading him to charge once more at Aemond as Lucerys had once again been held back.

The sudden sound of her father’s voice, made all come to a stop. “Wait! Wait…”

Daemon raised his finger, stepping in between Jace and Aemond. He gave Jace a look of warning as the dark haired boy slowly retreated and Princess Visenya now gripped Jace again forcing him further back.

“Go to your quarters. All of you go, now.” Rhaenyra spoke sternly, her eyes scanning the flock of young Targaryen’s before her. Visenya had felt Jacaerys force himself from her grip as her siblings moved away. Her eyes came to her mother and father who both gazed upon her and she felt a sudden disturbance fill her.

Visenya then shot a glare at Aemond, who stood with his shoulders peaked – his eye all but narrowing upon the Princess and she stepped forward. She couldn’t believe him, couldn’t believe the arrogance, the foolishness, she had almost wished she had let her brothers loose upon the cunt.

They both stood there for a moment, Prince Daemon separating the two as they glared with all the hatred in the world upon each other. The two knowing of what had transpired in the past, the truth of it, the failure of reconciliation and betrayal that went beyond just what their family’s knew of. The quiet moments between them in which were yes, strained but undoubtedly flickering sparks of trust or understanding. Visenya felt disgust coil upon her face as she looked into Aemond’s lonesome eye, thought it would be hard to say a sense of guilt didn’t follow such feelings.

A hard hand meeting her shoulder forced her from such thoughts, she looked up to meet Daemon’s eyes, her fathers’ eyes and her head bowed slightly as she backed away.

 Aemond tilted his own as he watched the princess concede to her father, he almost wanted to laugh, to shout in righteousness. To see her narrowed eyes weaken before Daemon, stirred Prince Aemond in a manner which he didn’t quite understand. He had only ever seen such utter surrender of Visenya to her father, and that was what pleased him the most… she had to pretend such surrender was merely respect of her mother’s husband. She had to restrain the urge to behave as a daughter would to her father, to concede and resist revolting against him. His eye followed Visenya as she walked after her siblings.

The one eyed prince soon found his body stiffening as felt his uncle turning to face him, a small almost glib sigh leaving Daemon’s mouth. An odd tension brewed, a strange comradery he thought. Aemond felt himself buzz, itching to indulge in more of his anger, to show them exactly what he was capable of. What he was so eager to do so and when he looked into the eyes of his uncle, he could’ve sworn he saw the same in Daemon, a match, an equalised opponent. It took the Rogue Prince having to step in to stop me from beating those bastards to a pulp. It took Daemon himself to recognise that I was just a greater threat as any.

Visenya had paused for a moment as she walked, briefly glancing at the interaction of between her father and uncle. The odd tension that brewed thickly between them, her gaze lingered upon Daemon and as she turned away. She recognised the look her father had given Aemond. One of amusement, just as he had given her countless times. That gleam of condescension driven by superiority. As if he were watching a child attempt to yield of sword… a pitiful endearment.

●

The princess hadn’t bothered to wait for her mother or father, she simply returned to her chamber swiftly. Slamming the doors as she soon found herself laying upon her bed and shutting her eyes.

Less than an hour had gone by before the creek of her chamber door filled her room, she sighed, it was likely her mother ready and willing to wag her finger. Visenya muttered, “How come no matter what transpires I am always the one to be lectured, mother?”

“It’s me, sister.” A small voice mumbled.

Visenya sat up and turned her head, her gaze softening at the sight of familiar dark eyes and shaggy black hair.

Lucerys.

The princess tilted her head and waved him over, to which he slowly approached her, sitting upon her bed. As she laid back down, neither of the siblings said anything, she merely watched as Luke hung his head low and sulked.

Visenya sighed and then, tapped his back with her boot, forcing him to turn his head.

“Come.” She said expectantly, rolling her eyes. She sat up, gesturing for him to come lay beside her.

He let out a small breath and mumbled, “I am nearly a man grown. I ought not be coddled.” Luke pouted.

Visenya scoffed, and raised her brow, “So why have you come?”

Then, a small but obvious moment passed between the two siblings, Luke looked down and sighed. She was right, why else would he have come? He was weak, he was not like his elder brother who brimmed with such confidence and self-assurance. Try as Lucerys might, he couldn’t suppress his anguish, his anxiety.  He knew he must now, he was to be married to Baela, would then be a father soon after and then named Lord of Driftmark. How could he dare assume such roles if he still needed to be assured his world was not crumbling before him? That he was deserving of his titles and of his position as a man? His mother and sister would not be there forever, and he knew no wife would surely tolerate a weak husband. Especially not a woman as fierce and formidable as Rhaena. She deserved a man who would be the one to soothe her woes, to ease her worries.

Though mayhap, tonight was not the night to try and call upon that man he wished be.

Visenya slowly made her way to the end of the bed, sitting beside him. She gazed upon her young brother, noting the flickering uncertainty within his eyes. She couldn’t help but feel her eyes soften upon him, suddenly struck with how young he was, how he still looked like a boy straining desperately to be a man. Her hand came to his head and gently, she brought him to her shoulder, noticing the bruise upon his forehead from where Aegon had attacked him. Her fingers gently grazing it making him wince.

"You must see a maester." Visenya said, her gaze flickering upon the discolored skin.

Lucerys shook his head, and a moment of silence settled between them before finally, he gained the courage to speak, “I keep making this worse for mother.” He whispered.

She sighed, bringing him closer as she rested her chin about his scalp, “It was no fault of yours, brother.” The princess spoke softly as her fingers grazed his hair.

“Yes it was. I laughed at him, didn’t I? I thought myself clever when I should have looked the other way. I caused trouble and now… now I whine like a babe about it.” Luke suddenly pulled his head from her shoulder, stifling down tears of both sorrow and wrath. “A man takes accountability. A boy cower in his sister’s arms.” His voice firm.

The princess gazed upon the side of Luke’s face, scanning his boyish features. She raised an eyebrow and suddenly a laugh escaped her.

The young prince turned his head in shock, his voice stuttering, “Do… do not laugh.”

Visenya continued regardless, she rolled her eyes and leaned back upon her elbow, forcing Luke to turn his head.

“Brother I laugh because you are boy. I laugh because I cannot tell you how many times I have watched our brother, or my father… or even our un-” She stopped herself, “Even other boys, do the same as you are now. Fighting themselves so foolishly over what is a condition of having a heart, not the weakness of a man.” Visenya rose to sit up once more, taking his hand.

“You took accountability just before, no?” She beckoned.

Luke nodded.

“Well then, you have done what a man would do... recognise you made an error at laughing at our uncle, who himself, made an even greater error by throwing a most bitter tantrum! Precisely after our Grandsire was not there to witness such a thing.” Her voice firm as she ranted.

Lucerys raised his brow as he took in her words, his mind churning, “Yet I doubt Aemond is scuttling off into the arms of his sister.”

“No, he likely to craven to even admit such weakness to his own kin, but one never knows what other methods of comfort he seeks. My point is that it is he who acts more boyishly then you. Aemond who relishes in such causing scenes! Yes you laughed, so bloody what? You are the one who is truly but a boy still. Aemond is but a man grown, he ought have a stronger spine.” The princess lowered her tone, shaking her head as she scoffed with contempt.

As Prince Lucerys looked upon his sister, he felt tears beckon in his eyes his heart aching as he realised how terribly he wished to be long gone from this place, how he wished things could be as they were in their youth at Dragonstone. Yet a sense of doom befell him, that things had changed now.

Slowly his head came back to her shoulder, and Visenya could do nothing but look upon her younger brother with an affection like no other. She brought her hand up to his hair, stroking it and she felt droplets of tears fall upon the fabric of her gown.

“I shall never be like you… or Jace… or even mother. I shall always be afraid.” He whispered.

“Sweet brother. We are all afraid. Fear does not make you weak...and it took me many years to see that neither does the revelation of vulnerability.” Visenya’s voice dropped to a soft, cooing tone. Her hand still gliding upon the mop of his black curls.

Luke shook his head, protesting her words. His voice strained, “You are not vulnerable as I am.”

“Yes… I am. I am, Lucerys... but I feel I must stay strong. I cannot falter as I once did, not when mother depends on me so. Not when you and Jace… and, and Joffrey are in such danger. I did not understand it when I was young, did not see how everything I did reinforced the slander against mother and therefore put you three in greater danger. You are not weak for leaning upon me, it was I who was weak because I resisted being leaned upon.” The princess looked out upon the soft glow of the candles which flickered. She felt her gaze and voice become low. A whirlwind of regret and emotions pooling through her.

“But I must be strong too.” He muttered.

“You are.” She whispered back, the moment paused, which led to the both of them realising what was said, and they let out small snickers. It was nice, to acknowledge the truth.

 Luke raised his head, his face turned to his elder sister. In this moment he found his gaze weakening, he needed her strength, he needed her honesty, “Ser Leanor is not my father, is he?”

A soft breath left the princess, her mind was in no state of conflict as she spoke. Her eyes still looking out, “No brother. Nor is he mine.”

And there it was, the clear truth. She had had this moment with Jace once before, and now she would have it with Luke. Slowly, Visenya turned her head, gazing into his simpering eyes, her hand coming to his cheek, “Then at least… now I know that I can be brave. For Ser Harwin was. He cared for Jace and Joffrey… and me. Protected us, even though it put him in danger.” The young prince’s voice beaming with reverence.

Visenya pouted softly and nodded. She felt her eyes weaken and tears beckon as she slowly pulled his head to her heart. Luke’s arms wrapped around his elder sister, and in that moment he realised how much like their mother she truly was. How much he was willing to give to prove himself worthy of his name.

The princess gazed out longingly, tears falling but she did not acknowledge them. She felt a slight pang of jealously but also gratitude. For Ser Harwin despite the world being against him, did not abandon his boys, did everything he could to protect them and see to his mother. She even remembered how he would treat Visenya like his own and would call her fierce like Rhaenyra. She remembered the man who harboured dark curls like her brothers, his sweet kind words and fatherly affection.

As the princess spoke, she found her voice failing her, “You are lucky, brother. To have had such a father… and even luckier to inherit such a good heart. He was but a good man… and I have little doubt you shall be too.”

Luke looked up and furrowed his brow, “You have a good heart too sister.”

“If I have been gifted any goodness… it comes from mother. I feel, as I grow older… more estranged from Daemon. More attune to his ways.” Visenya crumbled, her heart sinking as her voice was no more than a whisper.

“His ways?” The prince asked.

Visenya's gaze drew distant as she muttered, “Coming and going…”

“He married mother. Does that not prove you and her are where his heart truly lies? If as you say… all of us have vulnerability, would you not be one of them?” Lucerys scrunched his nose, contemplating his own words. Even he were not too sure if they were accurate, for it was true Prince Daemon was indeed, an enigma.

“He is impossible to understand. He was not like Ser Harwin, he abandoned me...would barely acknowledge me in public. There was never a moment when he would dare guide or teach me before the eyes of others. Everything was done in the shadows; everything was done where none could see, and it was so rarely he might as well have been just an uncle. Most of the brief moments we shared were him reprimanding me for being a strain upon my mother, and then he would leave again, barely reaching out. Setting out to Pentos to spend the rest of his days when he had little reason not to come to Dragonstone. There were times when... when I could see it in his eyes, that I was something he regrets.” She found herself simpering, looking down. In that moment she felt like a girl again and all she could do was lean in to such heartache.

“Perhaps not. Perhaps he just… kept away because… because he could not risk what may happen to you if he didn’t. Though, I am grateful for Ser Harwin’s affection… it made things all the worse did it not? Many people still think you to be Ser Leanor’s.” Luke mumbled, a quiet wisdom falling unknowingly from him.

Visenya shook her head, bringing her hand to her face as she spoke, “Yes but that is because I-” Her eyes suddenly met Luke’s and they both knew what she was to say. She appears Valyrian.

Lucerys nodded and another quiet moment passed before he found his way into her arms. The two siblings finding a sense of understanding and comfort, just as she did with Jacaerys all those years ago. Mayhap one day even she will have to do the same with Joffrey.

There was then, a small exchange of fumbling and bickering that echoed outside her door, Luke pulled away and raised his brow,

“Just go inside!” One rang.

“What if she with a suitor? I heard another?” A softer responded.

The first scoffed, “Too bloody bad, Luke is missing, and we must leave.”

“Jace!” A third winced.

The sudden opening of her chamber door meant for Visenya to shake her head.

“Sister… I shall give you a moment to, ready yourself… and also any other who may be present.” The awkward voice of Jacaerys bellowed.

“You’ll have to give them all a moment brother.” The princess mocked, waiting for the foolishness to end.

His eyes widened suddenly, and face coiled in horror as he awaited what he thought would be a flock of men, “Them all? How.. how many- “

“Jacaerys just come in!” She snapped slightly, winning a snicker from Luke.

As Jace made his way in, he approached the corner where her bed was. Cautiously his eyes readying to shut before he found himself grimacing in embarrassment as he saw the likes of his two siblings. The prince scoffed and gestured to his younger brother, “Why would you not say you were with him?”

Visenya raised her brow, giving him a “Why would you not knock if you thought me apprehended?” A small laugh escaping her as she watched Jace’s face turn over itself, he raised his brow and nodded.

Soon, the shutting of her door warranted the arrival of Baela and Rhaena.

Baela having huffed and gently nudged at Jace, “Sorry, sister.” She said softly, tilting her head and giving a gentle look to her elder upon the bed. Visenya returned the gesture. “We were merely worried because, Luke had disappeared, and we weren’t so certain if he were with you or…” Baela trailed off.

“Why were you looking for me?” Lucerys turned his head.

Jace stepped forward, “Mother says we are to leave tonight.”

“Tonight…why? When?” Visenya raised her brow.

“After what happened at supper she thinks it best we return to Dragonstone. They are preparing a ship still; we have some time but.. you best be ready.”

The eldest Targaryen shook her head, her voice beaming with frustration “But I came on dragonback?”

“Oh… yes I think Rhaenyra mentioned something of the sorts of having Silverwing readied.” Baela assured.

Visenya rose to her feet, straightening her gown as she collected her trunk, “Hm. Very well, I shall… be ready then. How much time is left?”

“Mayhap… an hour or two?” Rhaena shrugged, “Rhaenyra had just said for us to be ready to leave as hastily as possible, so…” The youngest girl continued.

Visenya nodded, and began to collect her things upon the vanity, swiftly bringing them into her trunk. As she did so, Lucerys had joined his brother as they bid each other farewell.

However, there was but one thing on the mind of the Princess as she hastily shoved her things into her trunk: Blood of Old.

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