#and make them unexpectedly cool

[elderflowergin]

Can someone find the girl in Kim Eun-sook’s writers room who wrote both Glory’s Ha Do-yeong and Mr Sunshine’s Kim Hui-seong (because I know it was the same person!) and let her out of her cage? And then give her a nice budget and her own show? Thanks, much obliged!

[tj-crochets]

So it turns out there's a big craft guild organization thing only a few hours from where I live (I saw an ad for their craft fair), and I got like half my holiday shopping done on their website, and the box arrived today! The thing I was most excited to see in person is fragile, though, and it's really well wrapped in bubble wrap and I don't want it to break when I mail it to the friend it's for, so I am not unwrapping it, but oh man the temptation is there lol I also got myself a little metal bug made of a bottle cap and some wire. It lives on my little corkboard where I put postcards and thank you cards now

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[machidielontheway]

i’m playing fast and loose with my oc’s and sometimes i remember that some people are capable of writing incredible backstory that perfectly ties with personnality and here i am trying to tape things together so it stays standing and trying to figure out what their actual personalities are

and it’s ok ! i’m having fun and having oc’s and playing with them is different for everybody !

[liloinkoink]

do you wanna try your luck at the wild life session 5 trivia questions?

well now you can! i gathered all the questions we came up with into a pair of google forms so that you guys can try your hand at the same trivia questions the CCs did!

quizmaster's questions from session 5

we tried to have a good amount of questions for every player and season. we also tried to include only questions we thought at least one person would remember the answer to, especially things we'd seen them bring up recently in their own videos or streams, or big moments that would appear in fanart/animatics that we thought they'd be more likely to remember from seeing in those. we also aimed to include silly questions/answers, or questions/answers we thought people would find entertaining. we wanted players to be able to go to each other and ask each other for help on questions they didnt know the answer to!

but wait! there's more! we also have a form for all the questions which didn't make the cut!

rejected questions

the rejected questions didn't make it due to either being too difficult/niche or being something we did not think any creators would remember, being about a player we already had too many questions for in order to make room for questions about other players, being "stat" or number questions (i.e., "how many times did X die of Y cause?"), having too many names involved in the question or answer (making it hard for players to know who to ask for help), the questions just being wordy, or not being particularly entertaining. fair warning, the rejected questions also were not all fact checked as well as the actual episode questions were, as they didn't go into the actual session

originally our questions were a bit more difficult (we had a lot of questions we didn't necessarily think anyone would remember the answer to), but we were asked to tone it down and have mercy after the unexpectedly high amount of snail carnage (hence why the forms are jokingly names "easy version" and "hard version")

anyway, huge thanks to the rest of the trivia team, @cherrifire, @xmaruu11, @hopepetal, @applestruda, @ink-ghoul, and @cocoabats !!! working with all of you was super fun! and thanks so much to Grian for trusting us with this! this whole thing was a super cool experience and i'm thrilled with how much everyone likes the questions!

[mostly-imagines]

The Morning After The Venus Drug

You wake to an ache that runs straight through your muscles and into your bones. Your eyelids feel weighted as you try to blink yourself to consciousness, the fabric of the pillowcase an unexpectedly tough barrier.

You lay on your stomach, bed sheets pooling around your waist. You recognize the weight of Jason’s arm over you before you see him, hair tousled and face scrunched up against your same pillow.

His cheeks are flushed pink and he’s still perspired, but he looks peaceful. You press the back of your hand to his forehead, frowning at the heat you’re met with.

You try your hardest to unwrap his arm from around your torso without waking him, an action that requires far more energy than you were hoping to capitulate to. But that movement turns out to be nothing compared to the ache felt when you try to move your legs.

A slight shift has you immediately stilling, the soreness between your legs proving to be more severe than anticipated. You stifle a groan, slowly pushing yourself to sit up. You have to take a moment to rest your muscles as your legs hang limp over the side of the bed.

Your legs are shaky and unstable as you try to stand and you nearly fall back onto the bed. You need a few practice steps before you’re able to pick up any actual pace towards the door.

You sit on the side of the tub while you clean yourself up, the skin of your thighs almost too tender to bear the ruggedness of the rag. You can’t be sure of how many rounds you went last night, but if you’re in this kind of shape, he must be worse off.

On your way to toss the used cloth in favor of a new one, a glance in the mirror has you double-taking. The hickies scattered across your neck and collarbone are blossoming dark and to be expected. However, the sight of bruises littered across your waist and hips draw some extra attention. They don’t hurt, really, the marks mostly bring forth warm feelings.

But you know that Jason won’t feel the same upon discovering them, so you figure it's best to cover them up for now.

You quietly shuffle through the bedroom drawers and pull out one of his gray shirts that’s even a little big on him. It drowns you out, more than enough to cover your rembrandts from last night.

The floorboards creak as you make your way to the kitchen, steps stiff and awkward. The warm orange light flowing in from the living room curtains is soothing, if not far too bright.

With a restrained pull, you pop the fridge open, careful not to let the unseal make too much noise. You collect a bottle of water and dampen the extra rag with cool water from the faucet.

You tiptoe back to the bedroom, supplies in hand. The mattress springs squeak slightly as your weight returns to them.

One hand comes to rest on Jason’s back as water from the washcloth drips down your other arm. “Hey,” you trace nonsense patterns into his skin, hoping the sensation will be enough to rouse him like it usually is.

But he doesn’t so much as stir, still breathing deeply. “Jay?” you shake him lightly, “You gotta wake up, baby.”

His eyes squeeze shut harder and a groan reverberates from deep in his throat. “Fuck…”

“Hey pretty boy,” you murmur, brushing his hair back. His face burrows further into the pillow as his hand comes up to blindly search for your thigh, kneading your skin once he finds you. “How you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a train,” he croaks, turning his head hesitantly into the light to look at you. He squints as he takes in the sight of you, slowly shifting onto his back. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head tenderly, “Just sore.” You hold the water out to him, “Here.”

He looks at the water, then back to you. You huff, “Just drink it. I’ll have some after.”

He perches himself up on his elbow, taking the bottle from your hand with a pout. He chugs down three gulps before pushing the drink back in your hands expectantly. You feel his eyes on you as you take your own sips, only moving to sit up completely when he’s satisfied with your hydration.

He grunts as he adjusts his muscles to the new position, holding a hand out. “Lemme see you.”

“I’m alright,” you tell him, trying to mitigate his worry before it begins.

But his face only sterns, voice becoming serious. “Then let me see you.”

You’re ready to argue more to save him from the sure-to-come guilt, but he tugs your shirt up anyway, blinking a few times to get a clearer look at your skin.

Delicate hands come to hold you by the sides of your ribs, nudging you this way and that to examine the bruises littered across your skin. ���Oh fuck, baby..”

He leans in close, running featherlight touches over the marks. “I don’t…” his chest drops, “I don’t remember doing that.”

You nod in understanding, taking his hands in yours and pulling them away from your body. “They don’t hurt. I like seeing them.”

He peers up at you skeptically and you nod again. “I like them. A lot. I like anything you give me.”

He closes his eyes and drops his head, “I should give you nicer things. Less painful.”

You gently push his face up to look at yours, keeping hold of his cheeks. “You do give me nice things,” you tell him before pressing a slow kiss to his lips. You rest your forehead against his, “But I like the rougher things too. Especially when I get them while you’re feeling good.”

His hands cover yours, moving them back down and turning them so he can hold them properly. “You’re okay?”

“I’m better than okay. Can guarantee I’m feeling better than you are anyways.” You pull back, scanning over his flushed face. You pick up the rag from your now considerably wet thigh, dabbing his forehead with it. “You look overheated.”

He relaxes a bit against the coolness, “Yeah, the effects of the toxin take a little while to wear all the way off. It’s not so bad anymore though.”

You nudge him to lay back down, draping the cloth over his head. He looks over you fondly as you lay a light kiss on his collarbone before tucking yourself into his side with closed eyes.

[coqvttes]

୨୧― KINKTOBER: ❝KNOCKED UP❞ ― KENTO N.

― ꒰ BREEDING ✰ KINKTOBER M.LIST ꒱ ―

୨୧˚ synopsis: after getting turned on from seeing you being domestic in the kitchen, your doting husband is definitely not stopping until he's sure you're pregnant !

୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, breeding, p in v, petnames, praise, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!kento, fingering, tummy bulge, creampie, teasing, lmk if i forgot anything!

୨୧˚ wc: 1.4k (sorry it’s not proofread)

your doting husband, kento just couldn't help himself when he saw you fussing around in his little kitchen. the enchanting smell of fresh pancakes had stirred him from his sleep in the bedroom, and he wondered what you were up to when he noticed that his wife's spot on the bed was empty. appearing in the doorway of the kitchen in his briefs, he freezes as he sees you prancing around in the kitchen. taking in the sight of you. 

there you are, sporting the linen workshirt he wore yesterday, styled with your cute little apron over it. clearly, you aren't wearing anything underneath the shirt, save for your cute lacy panties that he just loves so much.

he ponders if he should just take you right there. bend you over the worktop push those panties of yours to the side and make love to you like last night. you just look so gorgeous and domestic like this, waking up early just to change into HIS clothes to cook him HIS breakfast in HIS kitchen. how can he resist the temptation? god, sometimes he thinks you do it on purpose just to rile him up. and it works. 

"good morning, kento," the sound of your sweet voice forced him out of his perverted thoughts and his eyes met with your gentle ones. you were holding a delicate plate of freshly made pancakes, just for him with that sweet smile on your face. warmth filled his heart as he looked at you with adoration and lust. 

"g'morning, darling," he says in that sexy morning voice of his. your mouth almost waters at the sight of him. hair tousled, shirtless and a tired smirk on his handsome face. he notices the way you stare at him and he doesn't know how it happened but he's approaching you, pulling you in by the waist for a sweet kiss, sealed with passion and devotion. 

"you look too good in that shirt and cute little apron of yours," he groans, hands slipping down your hips to grab onto your arse. you squeal as he unexpectedly lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, your palms flat against his chest. 

"w-what about breakfast?" he chuckles at your concern and grins. 

"who needs breakfast when i have you, hm?" he chuckles, carrying you back into the bedroom, you giggle as he plops you down on the bed, climbing over you. his fingers play with the strands of your hair before he speaks.

"god, you're so perfect in my shirt. so pretty for me, hm? all mine, aren't you?" his fingers slide under the shirt as he kisses you, caressing you tenderly before moving up further to grope your tits. he smiles into your lips as he feels how hard your nipples are for him, pinching and tugging at them gently, eliciting a choked whine from your throat.

"all yours, kento," your voice is breathy, so desperate for his touch. he skillfully unbuttons the shirt and peels it off of you, letting the cool air blow over your now bare torso. your fingers tangle in his blonde locks as he envelops your nipple in his warm mouth. you mewl softly from the stimulation whilst he gazes at you through his eyelashes, you look so heavenly like this. 

releasing your wet nipple he moves lower down your body. as he spreads your legs, exposing the wet stain on your panties, he chuckles. he ducks down and presses his lips against your clothed cunt. his pointer finger slips under the lace, pulling it down your legs, revealing your needy cunt.

"fuck, darling, let me put a baby into you, hm? make you mine forever? would you like that?" he asks, his slender fingers, slipping into your hole slowly. you nod profusely, choking on your words as he stuffs you full with his digits. sliding them in and out of you slowly, he curls his fingers to tease that sweet spot inside of you that makes your walls clench around him.

"use your words, sweetheart." 

"yes, yes! wan' your babies, kento. wan' it so bad. wan' to be yours forever-!" you babble mindlessly, completely unaware of how much your words are affecting him right now. the thought of having kids with you and how much you want it too, makes his dick so hard. his heart is beating fast as the phrases truly sink into his mind.

with that, he withdraws his now slick-covered fingers, before lowering his head down, capturing your plump lips with his. your hand moves down between your bodies to palm his bulge through his briefs. he pulls away from your lips and groans with how painfully hard he is and he tugs his briefs off, dropping them onto the floor carelessly. 

your eyes are fixated on his cock that yearns to be inside of your warmth. he pumps his length a few times, drops of precumming spilling out of his sensitive tip as he slowly lines himself up with your drooling entrance. you mewl out lewdly as he pushes himself in, filling you up completely and your palms fly up to his shoulders for purchase. 

your thankful he prepped you a little bit earlier otherwise you're not so sure if you could take him in one go like this. after a few heartbeats, he rolls his hips slightly, his pelvis rubbing against your puffy clit and you moan softly. 

he picks up the tempo, his thrusts now faster and harder as the room echoes with the sounds of your pleasure and the bed creaking. his strong arms move your legs up to rest on his broad shoulders, making the position more intimate but most importantly, making it easier for him to go deeper.

his eyes are fixed on the way your cunt keeps sucking him in, the way you can see his bulge in your tummy and the way you look at him with those adoring doe eyes. he dips his head down to seize your lips in a kiss.

the kiss was gentle and innocent compared to the sinful actions being committed with each of his powerful thrusts. with every single drag of your tight cunt against his dick, constantly clenching around him deliberately which forced out a long string of groans as he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"k-kento!" 

he dotes on the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name in a choked whisper, your nails clawing down his back. your cunt pulsing around his cock. your juices spilling from your hole as he thrusts into you like there's no tomorrow.

“that feel good, darling?” the rumble of his voice against your ear makes you shiver slightly. 

"can't wait to see your tummy swollen with my babies in you, you'll look so gorgeous."

“mmm—!” moans and whines bubble up in your throat as a response to his teasing words. the thought of having his children makes your mind go fuzzy and your heart swell. you want it more than anything. 

“i love you, sweetheart,” he coos, pulling away from your neck to look into your eyes. his husky voice, how close his lips are, the lust evident in his gaze, it all makes your mind go fuzzy. 

"i love you, kento! love you s'much!" you cry as you cream around his cock, cunt tensing around him which pushes him over the edge too. he lets out a broken moan as his warmth fills you up. he stays inside of you for a few moments, not wanting his cum to go to waste. 

"mmm, can't wait for you to get pregnant, sweetheart," he confesses, pulling you into his arms as he lays down on the mattress.

“i think the pancakes are cold,” you pout, turning your head to look up at him through your lashes and he chuckles down at you.

"that's alright, darling... i've already had my meal, haven't i?"

oh yes, he has...

‧˚ʚɞ��‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2023. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!

[homunculus-argument]

The thing about being a profoundly weird person is that it doesn't happen overnight. The kind of people who'll do shit that nobody else would actually genuinely do by pure accident already have an accumulation of low-level layers of weird but harmless choices that nobody else would make, which sometimes just happen to align in ways that wouldn't happen to someone else.

Genuinely, profoundly weird people don't go out of their way to do profoundly weird shit. They don't think "ok what is the quirkiest way I could respond in this situation?", it's just that their environment is already set up for weird things to happen, because of those minor, insignificant weird choices they've already made.

They're simply the kind of people who would unexpectedly find out that you can just buy medical label stickers online, immediately order a bunch, and then forget all about them for several months. Not supremely baffling, but also not something a regular person would do for shits and giggles.

And then only remember the stickers seven months later when they run out of regular clear tape while wrapping gifts, and figuring out that they can totally just use the stickers instead of having to run off to the store just to buy one tiny roll of scotch tape and nothing else. Again, perhaps not the solution that most people would make, but not completely unreasonable one.

That is the kind of a person who would take enjoyment in matching the cool bright-coloured stickers into the wrapping papers by complimentary colours, completely forget to consider what the labels themselves say, and therefore be the only person who could somehow accidentally use stickers that say "CAUTION: DO NOT INSERT INTO MOUTH OR ANUS" while gift-wrapping a cactus.

[novelbear]

some more silly squabbles and arguments for your otp to get into

a prompt list by @novelbear ᵔᴥᵔ

"i didn't buy these coasters for nothing! use them."

getting annoyed when they decide to wash dishes right when the other gets in the shower, making their water cold unexpectedly

"do we seriously need all these lights on?" "uhhh, yeah."

"turn your music down. i can hear it blasting through your headphones, that's dangerous." "oh, it'll be fine..."

arguments over the way the heater/air conditioning temp is set

when they figure out they do laundry veryy differently (like whether or not they separate colors/whites, how they fold, how often laundry is done, etc.)

one setting off the smoke alarm somehow everytime they cook something (this actually happens in my house save me)

^ "it's got to be something you're doing! because when i cook, this doesn't happen!" "i'm telling you, it's sensitive! broken! something!"

"don't set the air conditioning too cool. you just got out of the shower, you're going to make yourself sick." "oh my god i'll be fine."

^ then they argue and bicker more so when they do end up getting sick like their partner said.

"where did you put all the spoons?" "in the drawer to the left." "why would you do that."

one taking too hot of showers, leaving the bathroom steamy and little to no hot water left.

"do you realize you slam like every door that you close?"

being shocked that they eat something in a peculiar way (like the whole how to eat a kitkat debate)

"oh my god, please don't take another water bottle out until you finish the last. i'm finding them everywhere."

"look, i don't know what you're doing and i don't think i want to, but clean the mirrors."

[nottsangel]

no because imagine academic rival!theo going down on u in a classroom or a library or something. like u guys cannot study together but like…he’s down for other stuff…………yk??

“shut the fuck up or people will hear us.” theo warns sternly, spreading your legs with his strong hands on your thighs while you’re leaning against the desk. your fingers tangle in his soft hair as he’s down on his knees, watching the wetness trail down your thighs.

this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. you were meant to study with him— well, not voluntarily, though. you were paired up with him for a group project, much to both of your irritation. and as expected, after a while, you began yelling at each other, both stubborn as hell and unable to agree on anything. then, unexpectedly, caught up in the heat of the moment, he firmly grabbed your face and eagerly kissed you before ripping the clothes of your body…. and that’s how you found yourself in this predicament.

“then hurry the fuck up, theo!” you hiss, impatiently pushing him into into your dripping core and making him groan, the vibrations heightening to the pleasure you’re feeling as he laps at your aching cunt. you throw your head back at the sensation as he skilfully sucks on your swollen clit, causing you to bite down on your lip to suppress any loud moans from escaping.

“oh, fuck, fuck, just like that! feels so good, theo, fuck.”

“never thought i’d hear you moan my name, bella, but i could get used to this.”

normally, you’d bite back at his words, but he quickly pushes two fingers into you at once, causing you to clutch the edge of the desk with all your might as you let out a shaky breath at the feeling. he finds your g-spot so effortlessly, long fingers curling up as the tips of his digits rub against your sweet spot, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“you gonna come, baby? almost breaking my fuckin’ fingers here with how tightly you’re clenching around them.” he growls against your core as your legs begin to tremble. you feel your body grow weaker as his skilful fingers speed up, rubbing against your g-spot relentlessly while his mouth sucks on your clit so perfectly. you can practically feel him smirk against your cunt, enjoying how you respond to his touch.

“i’m gonna— fuck, i’m gonna cum” you moan as theo continues sloppily eating you out and fingering you simultaneously, both his saliva and your juices running down his chin. he so effortlessly pushes you over the edge as your orgasm washes over you, causing you to arch your back as your vision begins to blur, your hand flying to your mouth to silence any loud moans. your chest rises and falls as you come down from your intense high, head still thrown back and your mouth agape.

“cool. let’s go back to work now.”

“theo, wha—”

“oh, and i made you cum. so it’s only fair we do it my way now.”

ੈ♡˳

[bokunoheros]

ཐིཋྀ KINKTOBER DAY 9 - virginity loss : izuku midoriya

warnings : virginity loss (izuku), afab reader, mentions of body counts, non-relationship hookup (but deku has a thing for reader), reader calls izuku “izu”, oral sex (izuku receiving), reader has decent sized boobs, cliffhanger kind of

word count : 840

🐙 note : none

it wasn't really surprising that izuku was a virgin, hell i’m sure anyone could’ve guessed that much. the conversation took a weird turn when discussing izuku’s fated rival; katsuki bakugo. izuku explained that katsuki is a well known bragger who loves to flaunt his body count, he constantly expresses how izuku will never catch up to him and how because the boy has no experience no girl will ever want to sleep with him.

“well… do you wanna have sex with me?”

the question stuns izuku, turning him bright red and causing him to panic, he asks if you’re sure and mumbles about how there’s no way someone like you would ever wanna sleep with someone like him! he continues to go on a ramble about how you’re just so cool and pretty and your quirk is amazing and, and, and–

you stop and put your hands on izuku’s shoulders, he freezes and stares with a blank expression.

“we can have sex izuku, i don’t mind teaching you.”

izuku feels a mix of many emotions; pride, worry, confusion, just to name a few. slowly you drag izuku by the hand into your bed, gently laying him down and getting on top of him.

“don’t worry deku, just relax.”

“o-okay! i’ll do my best!”

you almost laugh at the poor guy, as optimistic as ever. you find yourself somewhat shocked at the way midoriya feels beneath you, despite being on the shorter side he was far from a twig; you could feel his solid abs and thick thigh muscles.

“have you ever had your dick sucked izu?”

“umm… no?”

“do you want me to?”

izuku nods enthusiastically, you get off his lap and lower yourself towards his thighs. carefully you settle between them, looking up at him with eager eyes that causes him to go red all over. you gently remove his basketball shorts and are met with his bare thighs and black boxers, you unexpectedly gawk at him, surprised by his muscle and pretty good size. pulling off his boxers you find that he’s about 5.7 inches, thick and red from embarrassment.

you look up to him for approval and he sends you a thumbs up, you giggle at his dorky behaviors. you lightly grab his length and izuku’s breath catches in his throat. keeping eye contact with him you slowly lick up his side and kiss his pretty pink tip, izuku shutters at the feeling and finds himself struggling not to make noise.

“you can make noise y’know, you have a cute voice.”

midoriya can hardly think, the feeling of your warm hand and breath by his cock too much for him to handle. he simply hums at your words and tells you he’s okay, you smile at him and continue to give his cock attention.

you swirl your tongue around his tip, using your hand to massage his extended length. taking his tip into your mouth you suck lightly and izuku swears he could see stars, he wonders if kacchan feels this good when he gets head. suddenly his thoughts get interrupted when you take the whole of him into your mouth, he gasps, unable to contain himself he brings his hand to your head and tugs on your hair making you moan onto his cock. izuku is whimpering and thrashing about, so much so that it’s affecting your ability to properly suck him off.

“izu, stop moving so much.” you manage to get out with your mouth still surrounding his cock.

with his eyes closed and head back he lets out a strained “uh-huh” and bucks his hips into your mouth, you moan at his length and he can’t help himself from doing it again.

“i’m sorry-sorry it feels��sososo good”

now izuku is practically face fucking you, albeit gently, he’s thrusting into your mouth and tugging lightly on your hair. you look up and find him absolutely lost, one hand on his abs and his mouth wide open, gasping and panting for air.

“ah! feels-feels funny, is this s-supposed to happen?”

you hum around his dick and he continues to push himself onto your tongue, you move your tongue up and down on him to encourage him closer to the edge.

eventually you feel a warm and thick substance invading your mouth, letting you know he came. izuku is panting and groaning, trying to catch his breath. he immediately lets go of your hair and rambles continuous apologizes, you have to force your mouth into his in order to get him to shut up.

he melts into the kiss, slightly unsure of quite how to kiss. his hands remain at his sides, too scared to touch you, unsure of where his hands should be.

you break the kiss and grab his hands, moving them onto your waist and breasts. izuku seems hesitant but eventually squeezes the areas softly. he’s kind of surprised, your skin was so soft and warm and your boobs were so squishy and bouncy.

“do you think you can go for more?”

[wonderjanga]

So Ive had this prompt stuck in my head, dunno if you've done it before, but:

Billy unexpectedly powers down due to a villain's weapon. But instead of being, well, scruffy little billy, he ends up looking like a greek child with the toga (?) and all. What would the JL reaction be?

This whole incident started half a year ago with the divine beings in his head arguing about something. Arguing was a surprisingly common occurrence despite the fact that most of these guys were over thousands of years old. He tended to normally tune them out whenever this was happening.

Achilles: “BILLY!”

Marvel: *startles* “Yes, Achilles?”

Achilles: “Chiton or toga?”

Marvel: “Huh?

Mercury: “Chiton or toga? We’re making you a gift. Aren’t we like so kind?”

Marvel: “A gift…?” *sounds weary* “I don’t like the sound of that. What are you planning?”

Zeus: “Nothing!”

Marvel: “Solomon?”

Solomon: “It really is nothing. This will actually aid you in case of any accidents while in field.”

Marvel: “Okay then…”

Hercules: “NOW PICK!”

Marvel: “Alright, alright, dang. Uh… What’s a chiton?”

Zeus: “What’s a- What’s a chiton? I’ve never felt such a shame for one of my children before.”

Marvel: “I’m not your kid, but okay.”

Solomon: “Billy, a chiton is a tunic that was worn traditionally by the Greeks.”

Marvel: “Oooh. Uh… okay then I pick that one.”

Zeus: “Ha ha, suck it Atlas!”

Atlas: “I also wanted him to pick the Chiton…?”

Zeus: “I know. I just don’t like you. I thought that was obvious by now.”

Billy didn’t know that Robin was like five feet away and watching this entire interaction go down. To Damian, this grown ass man was just having a full conversation with himself, oblivious to the world. He reported this behavior to his father later.

Batman: “That’s normal.”

Robin!Damian: “Pardon?”

Batman: “That’s normal for Marvel. Think nothing of it.”

Anyways, fast forward six months. Billy forgot about the gift thing the Gods were talking about. Mostly because they hadn’t even given him the gift. Then the time came when Billy was forced to be detransformed. All because of a stupid villain’s machine going haywire. Sivana could do better. So now, Billy was standing in front of the JL who had surrounded him in a half circle.

(Ancient Greek is in italics)

Billy: “Uh… Hello?” *doesn’t even realize he’s decked out in the Ancient Greek drip, complete with the chiton from earlier*

JL: *staring in befuddlement*

Supes: “He’s been de-aged?”

WW: *steps forward* “Brother?”

Mercury: “Okay, Billy, stare at her for like three seconds and then be like you’re Zeus‘s kin?”

Billy: *doesn’t even know why he’s doing this but does the three second stare* “You’re Zeus’ kin?”

Mercury: “You’re my favorite champion now.”

WW: “I am. I am Diana Prince. It’s a pleasure to meet you. What is your name?”

Solomon: “Thavma is a nice choice.”

Zeus: “So is Keraunos. Which is arguably better because it means lightning.”

Billy: “Thavma, or Keraunos. Either is fine.”

Flash: *whispering to Batman* “Spooky, what’re they saying?”

Batman: “I don’t know. I’m versed in Greek, not Ancient Greek. I can just barely make out an eighth of the words they’re saying.”

Soon after all of this, he was taken to the Watchtower. The JL dropped him off in a rec room and assigned Robin to watch him so the team could go to a meeting room to discuss the whole ordeal.

Robin!Damian: *looking him up and down*

Billy: *can feel the judgment through Robin’s mask* “What is it?”

Robin!Damian: “What?”

Billy: “I said what is it?”

Robin!Damian: “Tt. A language barrier.”

Billy: *frog blinks* “Language barrier…?”

Solomon: “I’ll just turn off the Ancient Greek for you.”

Billy: *clears his throat* “Can you understand me now?” *slight Greek accent still there*

Robin!Damian: “More clearly. Yes.”

Billy: “Cool, now what is it?”

Robin!Damian: “Pardon?”

Billy: “What is it? I can tell you’re staring at me judgmentally through that thing on your face.”

Robin!Damian: *visibly bristles* “I am not.”

Billy: “Yes, you are.”

Robin!Damian: “I am not.”

Billy: “You are.”

Robin!Damian: “Am not.”

Billy: “Yuh huh.”

Robin!Damian: “Nuh uh-” *realizes he let that leave his mouth* “Why are you acting like a child?

Billy: “I am a child.”

Robin!Damian: *stares at him for a couple moments* “The reason I am staring at you judgmentally, is that I had previously assumed you had been born an adult.”

Billy: “Who told you that?”

Robin!Damian: “Nightwing.”

Billy: *remembers he’s not supposed to know who that is* “Who?”

Robin!Damian: “He’s someone you’ll meet when you’re an adult.”

Billy: “Okay…?”

*silence*

Somehow, the two ended up crawling in the vents together. You couldn’t even ask Billy how it happened.

Robin!Damian: “Crawl faster.”

Billy: “I’m trying.”

They spent a while up there, crawling around, eavesdropping, stopping every now and then in the kitchen for snacks.

Robin!Damian: “This is chocolate.” *hands him a chocolate bar*

Billy: *eyes literally shining as he looks at the bar because he rarely gets to have chocolate*

Robin!Damian: “You open it like so.” *opens his own bar* “Now come. We must continue on the move. Back to the vents.”

This went on until the JL started to look for them.

Flash: *searching the rec room frantically because they should’ve been here*

Robin!Damian and Billy: *descend from the vents*

Robin!Damian: “What do you need speedster?”

Flash: *screams*

[luveline]

hi jadey! if you are up for it, do you think you could write reader unexpectedly doing smth nice for coworker!james, maybe she’s being kind of shy and trying not to make it a big deal while he’s trying v hard to not be all giggly heart eyes kiss kiss at her LOL thank you in advance and ilysm <3

tysm ilysm <3 fem

“Hey, killer.”

You sidestep past James bag into the nook of your desk. “Killer?” you ask, quick to drop your bag onto your chair and unbutton your coat.

“Beth told me you killed a spider in the break room. That’s not cool.”

“It was looking at me funny.” You shed your coat. “Where’s Remus?”

“Coffee.”

James doesn’t give you half as much attention as you’d wanted, turning back to his computer with an impassive expression. You swallow a cough and grab your bag, desk chair creaking as you sit. There’s a memo from Remus already tacked to your desk that asks you nicely to send him a long list of files, each written in careful print, and then a second that says good morning.

You smile at it and set them aside.

Though James doesn’t like you much, and you’re not totally sold on him, you’re starting to feel like you’re part of a team. It’s a hearty feeling to belong somewhere, to know you’re valuable, even if you’re only punching numbers in and swapping spreadsheets. So you’d seen the green tube boxes in the shops and you’d decided on a whim to get them. Perhaps it would inspire some sweetness from James. If he stops putting your mug in the freezer, you’ll be happy.

“I got you something.”

James tilts his head to the side but doesn’t look up. “Huh?”

The office lights aren’t as complimentary to his brown skin as the sun where it’s rising outside of your window. It warms his face and neck, and lightens the dark mop of his hair, his flyaways like silver scrapings.

You take one of the boxes from your bag and place it on the edge of his desk. You’ll give the second to Remus when he comes back.

“It’s one of your Smiskis,” you say, “but they’re exercise ones. I know you lift weights, there’s one with dumbbells. I want the hula hoop one.”

“Where did you get this?” he asks, looking at you with clear surprise. His thick brows rise. His smile is unmissable.

“They were three for two at Sainsbury’s. I got one for me and one for Remus, as well.”

James curls a lovely hand around the box. You pretend not to watch, quickly diverting your gaze to your bag to grab a Smiski for yourself. You can’t look up, can’t explain why on earth you thought it would be a good idea, really. You saw them and you thought of him and you’re entitled to lie about the two for three thing, it’s none of his business how much money you spend.

You dig your nail into the lid and rip it open.

“You look awfully smiley, Jamie,” Remus greets, approaching from your side to round the desks and place down his big mug of coffee. You chance a glance at the both of them and catch a half second of James’ ridiculous smile. “What made you so happy so early in the morning?”

“Nothing. Uh, just killer over here brought us some presents.” James tips the bag from inside of his box onto the desk mat.

“Really?” Remus asks.

You offer him his box over your monitors.

“Thank you,” he says. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s nothing,” you say with a hurried shake of the head, looking down at your own mystery Smiski. They’re nondescript little people who glow with a green UV sheen, and you hadn’t seen the appeal to begin with, but each morning you make sure to fix James’ if he’s toppled over. He never tells you off for it. “I just want one for myself, that’s all.”

You open them in tandem. Your figurine is sitting with its legs out in a v-shape and arms stretching down to its toes. Remus’ is slightly smaller perched on a yoga ball. James, apparently having all the luck in the world, unveils a Smiski struggling to lift a dumbbell from the ground.

“I love him,” you say with a pleased laugh.

“He’s brilliant,” Remus says.

“Thank you so much.”

Your smile gets caught on your mouth. James’ tone isn’t strange but unfamiliar —he speaks without a hint of irony. His grin is full of an emotion you don’t recognise. Too happy. Too friendly.

“You’re welcome,” you say.

They’re both kind enough to ignore your mild breathlessness. “No, seriously, thank you, she’s so cool. I didn’t know we could get these ones yet over here.” James puts his weightlifting Smiski in pride of place atop his outgoings. “Sirius is going to be jealous. I'm sending him a photo.”

You feel Remus’ eyes on you. He stares until you look at him, eyebrows wriggling. “Thank you for my toy,” he says.

“They’re not toys, lovely Moony, they’re figurines,” James says, leaning down and angling his phone. He snaps a few photos from different positions. He can’t seem to stop smiling. “Aw, look at her. She’s sick as hell. She’s gonna get so swole.”

You wrinkle your nose and sweep your rubbish into the wastebasket. Swole isn’t the word you’d use. Ever. But if it makes him happy…

“This is the best thing that’s happened to me all week,” James mumbles to himself, before clearing his throat extra thoroughly. “This doesn’t change the fact that you killed that poor spider, you know. What was it doing to you?”

“I crushed her by accident opening a cupboard door.”

“Likely story.”

[landinhoe]

In the Heart of November- Lando Norris

ღ

In honour of our little Lando’s birthday, enjoy🫶🏻

ღ

The evening air was cool, carrying the crisp bite of late November, as Lando pulled up to the small, intimate restaurant in London. Nestled away from the busy streets, this place held a special charm, chosen specifically for its warm, quiet atmosphere—a place where he could celebrate his birthday with only his closest friends. As he stepped inside, he took in the cozy ambiance. The soft glow of candlelight flickered off the wooden tables, and the gentle hum of quiet conversations surrounded him, giving the room a sense of familiarity and comfort. But despite the company of his friends, Lando’s thoughts were somewhere else.

Or, rather, with someone else. He checked his phone for any messages, trying not to seem too eager. She was supposed to arrive soon. They’d been friends for a while now, ever since they’d first met through the world of Formula 1. She worked in a legal role with McLaren, and their paths had crossed unexpectedly during a team event. What had started as casual conversations about racing, contracts, and the challenges of the sport had grown into a friendship filled with laughter, shared dreams, and mutual understanding. She’d become someone he could talk to—someone who understood the pressures he faced, not just as a driver but as a young man trying to make his mark.

It was during the long hours between races, in the quiet moments away from the track, that he found himself drawn to her. She grounded him, reminding him to enjoy the little things. When he was around her, he could set aside the high expectations and just be Lando. They had developed an easy rapport, and over time, his feelings had shifted from friendship to something deeper, something he couldn’t ignore. But tonight, he wasn’t sure if she felt the same. All he knew was that he wanted her there.

Then the door opened, and she walked in. Wrapped in a dark, elegant coat, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold, she looked radiant. Her hair was slightly tousled, her eyes bright as they met his from across the room. She paused, scanning the restaurant for him, and when their eyes met, she gave him a warm smile. For a moment, everything else faded into the background. He stood to greet her, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to keep his face calm and casual.

“You made it,” he said, his voice softer than he intended.

She laughed lightly, a sound he always found himself looking forward to. “Of course I did. It’s your birthday—wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

They hugged briefly, a touch that felt both familiar and electric, and he led her to their table. The night unfolded with laughter and easy conversation. Around the table, their friends told stories from races and travels, the room filled with lighthearted jokes. Yet, despite the crowd, it felt like the two of them were in their own little bubble. Lando would find himself glancing at her, noticing the way she laughed, the way her hand sometimes brushed against his arm as they leaned in to share quiet words. She listened intently to his stories, her eyes lighting up when he talked about his dreams and the challenges he faced. There was an ease between them, a familiarity that made every moment feel special.

As dinner drew on, each of his friends took a turn presenting their gifts, filling the evening with laughter and warmth. Finally, it was her turn. She pulled out a small, beautifully wrapped box, holding it out to him with a smile that was both shy and knowing. Lando looked at her, feeling his curiosity pique as he gently untied the ribbon, careful not to rush. Inside, nestled in a bed of dark velvet, was a watch. It was simple yet elegant, with a sleek black leather band and a timeless face. His fingers brushed over the engraving on the back, reading the small, precise words she had chosen: “Drive with your heart.”

Lando’s throat tightened as he read it, his heart swelling with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper. She looked at him with a softness in her eyes, and he sensed there was more to this gift than just its material worth. She had chosen something meaningful, something that spoke to who he was, and it was as if she had seen through all the layers he tried to hide. For a moment, he was overcome, unsure of what to say. He looked up, catching her gaze, and held it.

“It’s a reminder,” she said softly, her voice just for him. “For all the times when things get difficult, when you need to remember why you’re doing this. You have so much heart, Lando, and I just… I wanted you to know that.”

Her words stirred something in him, a warmth that he had rarely felt before. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t think you realize how much this means to me.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, his hand resting on the box, her hand resting close to his on the table. The air between them felt charged, filled with everything they hadn’t said. He wanted to reach out, to take her hand, to tell her what had been on his mind for months. But instead, he held back, savoring the quiet connection between them. The evening carried on, but Lando’s thoughts stayed on that watch, on her words, and on the growing realization that this was more than friendship.

As the night wound down, they stepped outside, and he offered her a ride home. She agreed, and soon they were side by side in his car, the city lights flickering past them in a blur. The ride was quiet, but not uncomfortable. It was as if they were both waiting for something, some unspoken understanding that hung in the air between them. Every now and then, he would glance over, catching her gaze as she looked out the window, her profile softened by the streetlights. He wanted to say something, anything, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment.

Finally, they arrived at her apartment. He parked, leaving the engine idling as he turned to her, his heart beating faster with every passing second. The warmth of the car was a stark contrast to the cool November air outside, and he was suddenly aware of just how close they were. He looked at her, his gaze lingering on her face, her eyes, the gentle curve of her smile.

“Thank you for tonight,” he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And for the gift. It’s… it’s perfect.”

She turned to him, her eyes meeting his with a look that seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words. “I’m just glad you liked it,” she replied, her voice gentle.

The silence stretched between them, filled with possibilities. Lando’s heart raced as he reached out, his fingers brushing her hand, testing the boundaries. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned in slightly, her eyes never leaving his. Their faces were close now, so close he could feel her breath against his skin, warm and inviting. He couldn’t hold back any longer.

Slowly, he leaned in, closing the space between them. His lips met hers, soft and tentative at first, as if they were both afraid to break the spell. She responded, her hand finding his, fingers intertwining as the kiss deepened. It was gentle and sweet, a kiss filled with all the words they hadn’t spoken, a silent promise between them. Time seemed to stop, the world falling away until there was only her, and the feeling of her hand in his.

When they finally pulled back, he looked at her, his heart full and his mind racing. She smiled, a soft, knowing smile that told him she’d felt it too.

“Happy birthday, Lando,” she whispered, her voice a warm breath against his lips.

Lando squeezed her hand, a smile spreading across his face as he took in the moment. “Best birthday ever,” he murmured, and he knew, deep down, that this was just the beginning of something extraordinary.

[ifnotlovepersevering]

Down the Road (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: your summon to the Witches’ Road unexpectedly reconnects you with the witch that left you behind

Warnings: angsty, anger between R and A, fight scene, injury (A), flashback to past abandonment, R is lowkey into dark magic but in denial, lovers to hurt strangers 😔 whatever will we do

A/N: I used a few different requests in my inbox as inspo. It can also be read as a continuation of Closer. I’m planning on a part two but am open to suggestions on where to take this next! Enjoy 🖤

Tag List: @nyx-aira @crystalline-possession @clxwnnyy @lilibeth-tate @highgaytohell @amethyst-bitch @shinkomiii @agnessharknes @academiagaymess @midnight-lestrange

A summon to the Witches’ Road seemed like exactly what you needed right now. You’d been keeping to yourself these days, staying out of trouble. But it’d been too long since you’d had some excitement and your hands were itching for something new. You were going in blind, but that’s always fun, right?

At least that’s what you’d thought. When the smoke of your white magic disappeared, you were greeted with the sight of your new ragtag coven. You counted four. Where’s the fifth?

“Hello,” you grinned at the youngest, a pale boy with dark hair. “I’m Y/N, I believe someone called?”

“Y/N? As in awesome-moon-powers-Y/N?” The boy exclaimed, grabbing the arm of the tallest one, who seemed equally excited.

You laughed. “I didn’t realize my reputation preceded me so much.”

“Are you kidding?” Now it was the tall one exclaiming. “You’re like, so cool. Incorporating the moon into your power? It makes you the jack of all trades. Healing, light manipulation, water control. I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Moon magic?” The older woman seemed sort of dazed. “I’d heard stories…but have never seen it for myself.”

Before you could respond to the group’s praise, a familiar voice rang out. “What the hell are all of you harping ab-”

You turned around at the same time as footsteps behind you halted in their tracks. You felt your heart drop as you realized why the voice was familiar. It couldn’t be.

Agatha Harkness stood in front of you in all her glory. Gone was the young witch you had known, in her place a woman exuding power and elegance. Both of you eyed each other, surprise and apprehension on your faces.

•••

Your last memory of Agatha was that smirk of hers. You two had started as rivals but a trip that you went on together changed that. You grew closer and animosity turned to friendship, which turned into something much more. So many nights of you sneaking into each other’s rooms, honing your skills, and eventually using your hands to explore each other.

On one of your many visits to the woods for spell practice, the two of you encountered a shapeshifter. You and Agatha fought it off but it forced you to use the full extent of your powers. You were young and had only just started to incorporate the moon into your witchcraft. The fight drained you completely, leaving you weak.

At home, you were checked into the infirmary. News spread quickly of the battle; Agatha, being Evanora’s daughter, caught attention easily. Her power had been a topic of dispute within the coven for some time. You resented the others for how they treated her, especially her own mother. The parts of Agatha that made them turn away were the same you admired undyingly. You loved her.

You had been drifting in and out of consciousness for hours before you finally woke up to see Agatha at your bedside. “They want a formal questioning,” she had told you softly, her hand holding yours. In response to your furrowed brow, Agatha brushed the hair from your forehead. “It’s nothing serious. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You sighed, knowing Evanora took every chance she could to hurt Agatha. “Give them hell anyway.”

“You know I will.” Agatha had smirked, and with a soft kiss, she was gone. Unbeknownst to you, it was the last time you were going to see her.

You woke up the next day, surrounded by the early morning darkness. It was eerily silent; you’d expected Agatha to be back by now. Your strength had returned, and you searched for Agatha everywhere you could think of. No one was around, every room empty.

Eventually you had come to the clearing and saw the husks of the other witches. Their bodies surrounded a post, covered in scorch marks from what you could only assume to be Agatha. You felt yourself freeze as the truth dawned on you. It was more than questions, it was a sentencing. Yet Agatha had obviously survived.

Hot tears had filled in your eyes and a lump formed in your throat before you had collapsed into sobs. She’d survived, of course she had. But she hadn’t come for you. Agatha, the girl you loved without question, whom you had embraced completely. The girl who encouraged you with your magic, the one you’d helped with controlling her own. She had left you.

Over time, the hurt faded but it never quite left. You never looked back, not at her, nor the version of you that broke that day in the clearing. You drew from the pain and let it fuel your ambition. As you travelled and your power grew, you’d heard stories about Agatha. How she’d honed those skills you’d practiced together into something to be both admired and feared. But her betrayal was enough for you to never want to seek her out again.

•••

You blinked, snapping out of your reverie.

“Y/N was the other name on the list? I can’t believe you wanted to leave her behind.” The boy’s voice piped up from behind you.

You scoffed. “Don’t be so surprised.” There was no hiding the snark in your voice, and you saw Agatha’s face drop right before you turned on your heel. “This was a mistake,” you muttered, walking away from the group to recollect yourself.

The rest of the group watched as you left. “What did she mean by that?” Alice hissed at Agatha. Everyone looked at her expectantly.

“Well,” Agatha grinned sheepishly. “We may have some…uh…unfinished business if you will.”

Jenn rolled her eyes. “Whatever, you have to make her stay. We need her to do this.”

Agatha groaned as the others nodded and nudged her towards the area you’d retreated to. But the annoyance was an act. Seeing your name on the list had stopped her in her tracks, bringing back memories she’d tried to bury. And now here you were, and she couldn’t hide from the swirl of emotions within her like she’s used to doing. Her heart still ached for you but it was unlikely you’d want anything to do with her.

She sauntered over to where you were sitting on a log by yourself. Standing close to you, she had a moment to take in your appearance. Somehow you were even more beautiful than she remembered. Time had clearly treated you well, and Agatha found her gaze catching on your features as she took in the sight of the face that haunted her memories.

She cleared her throat. “You can’t leave now that you’re here. The Road. It won’t let you.”

You looked up at her from where you sat. “You think I don’t know that?” You snapped. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew it was you.”

That stung. “Well it’s nice to see you again too, doll.” Agatha sneered.

“Oh save it, Agatha.” You stood up, eye level with the other witch. “I think we both remember who left who. Don’t play dumb now.”

“You act like I made that decision by flipping a coin. You don’t know the half of it.” The nonchalant attitude Agatha had been putting up was slipping away, revealing the raw emotion underneath.

You shook your head and turned your back to her. “Forget it. I’m already going to have to suffer through the rest of this thing anyway. I don’t need some shitty explanation from you.”

But Agatha wasn’t one to take that for an answer. She grabbed your arm, forcing you to turn back and face her. “No,” she hissed. “You don’t get to do what they did. Don’t repaint me as callous because I was never like that with you.”

You clenched your jaw, feeling a lump forming at the back of your throat. You couldn’t help it - the hurt you’d buried for this long was coming back up, and it was as sharp as the day it’d arrived.

“Callous?” You laughed humourlessly. “No, leaving me behind wasn’t callous. It was cruel. You’re cruel.”

You could see Agatha’s cheeks flushed in anger, and her mouth opened with another rebuttal when a shriek rang through the air back where the rest of the coven was standing. Both of you jumped, and Agatha dropped your arm.

“What the hell was that?” You shouted at Agatha over the shrieks, which had grown louder.

“Salem Seven ring a bell?” Agatha snarked, but her eyes were filled with fear.

“What the fuck, Agatha.” You all but yelled as the two of you began running back. Somehow you’d never encountered any of the Seven before but that didn’t mean you wanted to start now. They were definitely pissed at Agatha, but it was unlikely that they were happy with you either, as the only other survivor of their mothers’ massacre.

The shrieks were coming from both the coven and a dark, hooded figure who you assumed was one of the Seven floating above them. “Run!” The boy screamed, and everyone began sprinting down the road.

Suddenly you heard Agatha cry out and a thud. You turned to see Agatha on the ground, the hooded figure hovering over her. You stared incredulously as Agatha put her arms up to shield herself, but made no other move to put up a defence. What is she doing?

The Salem Seven witch lunged towards Agatha and you quickly shot a beam at her, making her fall to the ground. As you ran over, you saw the witch was already stirring, not quite dead yet. You began reciting a spell that’d become second nature for you now, your hands falling into the familiar motions.

Agatha watched in awe as you drew the many surrounding shadows towards the figure on the ground. You made a sharp movement with your hand and suddenly the figure that was beginning to rise from the ground was being surrounded by dark tendrils.

Muffled screams could be heard as the shadows twisted tighter and tighter, until the figure fell limp to the ground. You weren’t done, however. Another practiced movement of your hands and you watched as the shadows engulfed the witch, dragging her downwards into the ground until she disappeared like vapour.

With the threat gone, you rushed to Agatha’s side. You could see a gash on her arm where her sleeve had torn, blood seeping out of the wound. “What were you thinking? Why didn’t you fight back?” Anger mixed with worry as you searched Agatha’s face for answers.

“Careful there, Y/N. Wouldn’t want to look like you care.” When you didn’t indulge her teasing, the other witch sighed. “Why do you think I’m here?” She asked, gesturing around her. She saw the confusion in your face and waved her hand dismissively. “Long story doll, I won’t bore you.”

Typical. Even all those years ago Agatha would opt to keep you in the dark rather than explain herself. “Fine.” You said, helping her stand. “Let’s find somewhere to sit so I can patch you up.”

You turned to see the rest of the group standing nearby, a mixture of awe and apprehension across their faces. The boy seemed the most awestruck. “How did you do that?” He exclaimed. “Where did she go?”

The oldest of the group spoke before you could. “The shadow realm.” She answered, eyeing you warily. “No one should be doing that.”

“Why don’t we um, find a place to sleep? While Y/N takes care of Agatha.” The tall one spoke now, gesturing for the rest of the group to follow her and leave you and Agatha alone. You watched as they hurried away, the short one throwing a worried glance back at you.

“So, shadow work huh?” Agatha spoke lowly as you examined her arm. “Didn’t realize you’d begun dabbling in my side of things.” Her tone was playful but probing.

You turned your head sharply towards her. “I haven’t. It’s not the same thing.”

Agatha chuckled darkly. “Oh isn’t it? Don’t get so high and mighty now Y/N. I’ve heard things. That good girl persona of yours may be working on everyone else, but not me.”

You didn’t answer, instead pulling her arm into the moonlight coming in through the trees. At your silence, Agatha kept going. “‘Oh wow! Moon girl is so amazing and talented! She can do anything!’” She said mockingly. “All admiration when you’re doing what they like. But you saw the look on their faces just now. Everybody switches up when we start talking real power. The kind you and I have.”

Okay yes, you could admit that the shadow stuff is a bit iffy. But it wasn’t anywhere close to as iffy as using the Darkhold, like you’d heard Agatha did. That was different.

“All I’m saying,” Agatha continued, as she watched you weave the light with your hands to heal her open wound. “Is that we’re much bigger than them. Than this. We’re destined for domination, Y/N.”

You shook your head. Years later and it was still all about power with her. Grand plans and limited following-through were classic Agatha. Enough. You stood up, Agatha’s arm now healed. “You’re talking about powers you had, and that I have.” You said coldly, taking satisfaction in the way her jaw clenched at your words. “Maybe focus on getting those back first.”

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed away.

[novaursa]

Web of Gold (Aegon is jealous)

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Paring: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen

- Note: This part has an extra reader/Aemond interaction. Time is skipping from present to past.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Previous part: aegon has a cold

- Next part: royal wedding

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @purple-1995

The Red Keep is unusually quiet this afternoon as you’re making your way through the castle, intending to visit the gardens where you can enjoy the warm air and perhaps indulge in some idle gossip with your ladies. It’s a perfect day for it, or at least, it was until Aemond Targaryen unexpectedly appears in your path.

He stands in the hallway, arms crossed and expression as stern as ever, as if he’s waiting for some important meeting. When his single, icy violet eye fixes on you, it’s clear he has no such plans. You have the distinct feeling that this encounter is as unwelcome for him as it is for you.

“Aemond,” you greet with your best attempt at politeness, offering a sweet smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “What a surprise to see you here.”

Aemond doesn’t bother with a smile. Instead, he inclines his head slightly, regarding you with that same, unblinking stare that could make a lesser woman wilt. But you’re no lesser woman. “Y/N,” he replies, his voice cool and precise. “I’m surprised to see you without my brother clinging to your skirts. Or did you manage to give him the slip for once?”

You chuckle, deciding to meet his coolness with warmth. It’s what you do best, after all. “Oh, Aegon can’t always keep up with me,” you say with a wink, gliding closer. “He’s busy with kingly duties, you know. Someone has to manage the realm.”

Aemond’s lips twitch, though whether it’s the beginning of a smirk or a grimace, you can’t quite tell. “Yes, I’m sure he’s terribly preoccupied. I imagine it’s quite exhausting, all that lounging about with a goblet in hand.”

You ignore the jab at Aegon’s expense, well aware that this is Aemond’s typical mood—bitter, acerbic, with an ever-present undercurrent of disdain. “Well, he does deserve some rest, don’t you think? After all, he’s got me to keep him on his toes.” You give him a bright smile, the kind that you know Aegon would melt for, but Aemond merely stares at you, as though you’ve sprouted a second head.

“And how fortunate for him,” Aemond mutters, rolling his eye. “I can only imagine what you keep him busy with, though I suspect it involves more idle flattery than sound advice.”

You laugh at that, a light, melodic sound that echoes off the stone walls, but the humor doesn’t reach your eyes. “Oh, Aemond, I didn’t realize you were so interested in my life with Aegon. I thought you preferred to keep to yourself, all stern and serious like some sort of dark knight.”

Aemond’s eye narrows at your teasing, his mouth flattening into a line. “You presume too much,” he says coolly, though he can’t quite disguise the irritation that seeps into his voice. “I have little interest in your affairs, but unfortunately, it seems I am forced to endure them regardless.”

You bat your lashes at him, taking great amusement in needling the typically unflappable Aemond. “Endure? My, my, Aemond, you make it sound as though I’m a burden. Surely you can find some enjoyment in my company.” You place a hand over your heart, feigning a dramatic sigh. “After all, not many get the pleasure of my presence without having to fight Aegon for it.”

Aemond’s expression remains stony, but you catch a flicker of something behind his gaze—annoyance, perhaps, or maybe resignation. “I would hardly call it a pleasure,” he replies dryly, crossing his arms tighter over his chest. “More like an exercise in patience.”

You smirk, unperturbed. “Oh, patience is a virtue, they say. And I’ve been told I can be… a bit trying at times.” You lean closer, dropping your voice to a mock whisper. “But I’m sure a serious, level-headed man like you can manage it.”

Aemond’s jaw tightens as he regards you with barely concealed frustration, and for a moment, you think you might have finally struck a nerve. But then he huffs softly, a sound that might have been a laugh if it weren’t so begrudging. “You are nothing if not persistent,” he concedes, though his tone remains clipped. “I suppose that’s why Aegon finds you so endearing.”

You tilt your head, studying him with a curious smile. “Is that jealousy I hear, Aemond? Surely you don’t wish you had more of my attention?”

Aemond’s eye sharpens, and he steps closer, looming over you with his taller frame. “Hardly,” he retorts, his voice as cold as the North wind. “I prefer company that doesn’t talk my ears off with false pleasantries.”

You pretend to consider his words, then shrug with a grin. “Well, not everyone can appreciate my charms. But I can assure you, Aegon seems to have no complaints.”

Aemond rolls his eye, clearly done with your banter, but before he can walk away, you step into his path, forcing him to pause. “Come now, Aemond, it wouldn’t hurt you to smile every once in a while. It might even soften that terrifying expression of yours.”

He arches a brow, unimpressed. “Why would I need to soften my expression?”

You give a playful shrug, glancing up at him from under your lashes. “Well, it might make you seem less like you’re plotting everyone’s demise at any given moment.”

Aemond actually snorts, though it’s a dry, humorless sound. “You misunderstand me, Y/N. I’m not plotting everyone’s demise.” He leans in slightly, his voice lowering, as if confiding a great secret. “Only a select few.”

You let out another laugh, genuine this time, and Aemond’s lips twitch slightly, as if even he can’t help but find some amusement in your audacity. It’s brief, but you catch the ghost of a smile before his usual stoicism takes over again.

“Well, as long as I’m not on that list,” you reply cheerfully, stepping back and giving him a mock curtsy. “I suppose I shall leave you to your brooding, then.”

Aemond watches you for a moment longer, as though considering whether to respond, but then he simply inclines his head, his expression settling back into cool indifference. “Good day, Y/N,” he says curtly before striding past you, his coat swirling behind him as he disappears down the corridor.

You watch him go, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips. Aemond Targaryen might be as rigid as the Iron Throne itself, but it’s almost fun to poke and prod at that iron shell of his. He may endure your company with all the grace of a man suffering a long sermon, but you know he’ll remember every word.

And that, you think with a smirk, is victory enough.

The Red Keep’s dining hall is bathed in the warm glow of candlelight as the royal family gathers for a dinner. The long table is laden with platters of roast meats, steaming vegetables, and freshly baked bread. It’s meant to be a family meal, a time for unity and bonding, but the atmosphere is already taut with the undercurrents of various rivalries and tensions. At one end of the table, King Viserys looks weary, doing his best to keep up with the conversation between coughs, while Queen Alicent hovers nearby, ever the dutiful wife.

You sit comfortably beside Aegon, who is only halfheartedly stabbing at his food with a fork, glancing up every few moments to check on you. But tonight, for once, your attention isn’t entirely on him. Across the table, Aemond sits with his usual upright posture, speaking to you with a surprising degree of politeness, even if his compliments have that sharp edge he never quite seems able to dull. It’s enough to draw your interest, and Aegon can see it.

“Tell me, Y/N,” Aemond says, his tone smooth, “have you ever read the histories of Old Valyria? I find them quite fascinating—the rise and fall of empires, the shaping the bloodlines. Few truly understand the weight of it.”

You smile at him, leaning in slightly, clearly interested in the conversation. “I have, actually. The legends and lore are beautiful, if not tragic. It’s incredible how much history shapes our present.”

Aegon’s grip on his fork tightens, his knuckles turning pale. He glances between the two of you, his mouth curving into a frown that deepens with each word exchanged. You’re supposed to be looking at him, not his self-important little brother. He coughs loudly, just shy of a theatrical gag, as he leans closer to you. “Y/N,” he says in a voice that’s far too loud for the setting, “you remember that story I told you about that time I fought that wild boar on Dragonstone, don’t you?”

You blink, turning your attention to Aegon, who is now staring at you with an intense, almost desperate expression. “Yes, Aegon,” you reply, though your voice carries a hint of amusement, “you’ve told me that story a few times.”

Aemond’s lips twitch, just the slightest bit, but he says nothing, instead taking a slow sip of his wine. You get the sense he’s enjoying watching Aegon squirm, though he hides it well. Aegon catches the subtle smirk, and his frown deepens. He isn’t about to let Aemond outshine him tonight.

“But did I ever tell you about the time I caught two wild boars, at once?” Aegon blurts, leaning in closer as if the detail will turn the tide of the conversation. “It was quite the ordeal, really. Very dangerous. Everyone said it couldn’t be done, but I proved them wrong.”

Alicent shoots Aegon a withering look from her end of the table, clearly exasperated with his antics, but Aegon doesn’t seem to notice or care. He’s too busy trying to win back your attention.

You give Aegon an indulgent smile, though it’s clear you haven’t entirely forgotten your conversation with Aemond. “That does sound… impressive, Aegon,” you say diplomatically, though you can’t resist glancing back at Aemond, who raises an eyebrow ever so slightly.

Aegon’s eye twitches at your distraction. He reaches for the jug of wine and refills your cup to the brim, his movements overly eager, as if hoping the gesture might sway you. “You know, Y/N, Aemond may know his dusty old books, but I—” He thumps a hand against his chest, nearly knocking over a plate. “—I know how to live. And isn’t that what truly matters?”

Aemond’s expression barely changes, but his single eye gleams with amusement. “Is that so, brother?” he drawls, setting his cup down with a soft clink. “I suppose it takes a certain… perspective to see chasing boars as living.”

Aegon bristles at the veiled insult, his face turning a shade redder than the wine in his cup. He reaches out, draping an arm over your shoulders in an overly possessive manner. “Y/N knows what I mean, don’t you, darling?” He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “You prefer my company, don’t you?”

You manage to suppress a laugh at the sudden shift in his demeanor. It’s like watching a puppy bark at a much larger dog, trying to prove it’s just as fearsome. “Oh, Aegon, you know I appreciate you,” you say, patting his hand in a way that’s meant to soothe, but your amusement is barely hidden.

Helaena, who has been sitting quietly beside Aemond, looks up from her plate of roasted duck and glances between her brothers with mild curiosity, though she seems more fascinated by the way the candlelight reflects off her goblet than the tension in the room. “Boars can be very tricky,” she muses dreamily, as though it’s a perfectly normal contribution to the conversation.

Viserys, who has been struggling to follow along with the rapid exchange, chuckles weakly, though it’s clear he’s not entirely sure what’s happening. “Yes, yes, tricky creatures,” he mumbles, before lapsing back into silence, his weariness overtaking him again.

Aegon takes the opportunity to press closer to you, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper meant to sound sweet, but it comes out more desperate. “You see, Y/N? Even the king agrees with me. I know how to keep life exciting.”

Aemond snorts softly into his wine cup, just loud enough for Aegon to hear. “Yes, brother, you’re certainly a master of excitement. Like that time you… fell off your horse at the tourney? Or was it when you set fire to your own cloak trying to light a candle?”

Aegon’s face flushes with annoyance, his grip on your shoulder tightening. “That was an accident, and everyone knows it!” He turns to you again, trying to recapture your attention with an exaggerated pout. “But you don’t think I’m clumsy, do you, Y/N?”

You look between the two brothers, thoroughly entertained by their bickering, and finally take pity on Aegon, though not without letting a hint of mischief creep into your voice. “Of course not, Aegon. I think you’re… very capable. In your own way.”

Aemond raises his goblet in a mock toast. “Yes, to Aegon’s… unique talents.”

Aegon glares at him, and then, as if he can’t think of a better response, leans closer to you, pressing a noisy, dramatic kiss to your cheek. “You see, Y/N, some people might call my talents unconventional, but I think that just makes me more… interesting.”

You try not to laugh, but the sound escapes despite your best efforts. Aemond rolls his eye again, a faint smirk playing on his lips, but he remains otherwise silent, clearly enjoying Aegon’s discomfort too much to intervene further.

Alicent clears her throat, her patience wearing thin as she glares between her sons. “Enough,” she snaps, her voice low but cutting. “This is a family dinner, not a competition.”

Aegon, undeterred, clinks his goblet against yours with a grin that’s more petulant than charming. “To family, then. And to those who know how to enjoy life to the fullest.”

Aemond merely raises an eyebrow, taking another sip of wine, but you can see the faint amusement lingering in his gaze. He seems content to let Aegon claim his small victory, knowing that the real prize is seeing his older brother squirm with jealousy.

You lean back, enjoying the view of the two brothers’ very different styles of vying for your attention, thinking that this family dinner has turned out to be far more entertaining than you’d expected.