#meaning he never gets the heir status

[wool-string]

Depending what route Nakano takes, it changes his appearance and the story!

[timmydraker]

Tim’s parents demand a meeting with Bruce and their son himself to discuss the future of their company and Tim’s place in it. Everyone knows they probably want to get in on Bruce’s wealth and business so they might be able to go from millionaires to billionaires like Bruce.

To everyone’s surprise, Tim accepts and says he’ll do it as long as Bruce will stay with him the entire time.

Obviously Dick refuses not to and Damian insist as the ‘true heir’, which makes Jason want to as well just cause he’s not being left out. Duke promises to stay out of it and keep the girls busy so Tim doesn’t feel cornered or smothered in worry.

So, Bruce and his three sons sit on the meeting with Bruce doing most do the talking and Tim sitting on a chair with his brothers all keeping eyes on him.

Jack and Janet try to give pleasantries to their son but he just stared at them, a blank look that even Bruce can’t decipher if only because he’s never seen it before.

Jack does most of the talking, explaining that Tim still has a set aside amount of many and place in the company but that it’s only there because he’s kept the family name. They explain that they would be happy for Tim to take the Wayne name as long as their son gives up his legal place in the company and hands over his personal funds they gifted him willingly.

They subtly explain that they want him to continue to work with the as he works with WE extremely well, and that they could possibly become partners.

Tim would still be the co-CEO of WE as well as COF for Drake Industries but he must… ‘donate’ money to them regularly as a show of good partner ship.

Bruce is furious that they just want money and haven’t acknowledged their son or the fact that he just turned eighteen, but he remains calm and after almost twenty minutes of talking Dick cuts them all off.

“Perhaps-we could ask Tim himself what he thinks of this offer.”

The growing tension both settles and raises as everyone turns to Tim who is sitting like a statue.

He looks like he could be dissociating but there’s a distinct presence in his eyes like he doesn’t want to miss a single word or second.

Jack sits back and gives Tim a stern look, “Well, son? What do you say?”

Tim speaks in the same voice Bruce has heard him talk to clients he doesn’t like, “I’ll accept, I’ll even give my earnings from the company.” Just as Jack and Janet begin to look smug and his family members look shocked he adds, “on one condition.”

Janet looks at him like he’s the most vile creature ever and covers it with a forced smile as Alfred pours more tea for her as a means to appease the clearly nasty woman.

Everyone waits for Tim to state his condition but none of them are ready for when he looks his parents each in the eye and says in the calmest, most level voice the most shocking sentence nace they have ever heard from both Tim and Red Robin:

“I want you to kill yourselves.”

.

..

…

No one speaks.

Jason and Dick look genuinely afraid, Damian looks taken aback though not nearly as shocked as Bruce is with his jaw hanging low.

Alfred for the first time in his life serving the Waynes spills tea and looks at Tim in a way that shows he is genuinely aghast.

Janet and Jack are frozen looking at their son like he’s a different person, which is funny as that implies they knew he was before.

Tim doesn’t smile or gloat, he does nothing to suggest his words were one big joke or last ‘fuck you’ to them.

He sits still and patient, waiting for an answer.

Janet opens her mouth several times to speak but never gets any words out though Jack manages to get over his shock and fury crosses his face. He opens his mouth, most likely to yell or berate his son but Tim beats him to it.

“It’s your choice. I’ve said all I want, so kill yourself or leave.”

Tim picks up his own tea and watches as Jack and Janet storm out of Wayne Manner.

Silence prevails for a while with none of the family talking until Damian breaks the silence, “Holy shit.”

[dreamingonfilm]

✧˖*°࿐ Love Letters | d.m

Draco Malfoy x f!reader, fluff

Summary: In which Draco tries to find the girl who sends him love letters, unaware to the fact that it’s you.

W/C: 1.5k

Draco’s fingers traced over the writing on the pink envelope once again. His mind was not able to rest as he tried to piece together who left the note on his bedside in the middle of the night. Delicately opening it once more, he reread the words inside;

Draco, 

I hope you can learn to see yourself the way that I see you, with love and acceptance. You are what makes everyday worth it. Constellations are named after you, and each day I can’t help but to be thankful for the sun breathing on you once more. You are my light.

He carefully closed the envelope and placed it inside his bag. ‘They like me.’ the boy thought to himself, ‘someone actually likes me.’ 

It’s not that the boy was a stranger when it comes to love, but never once has he been perceived as something more than what he truly is. He’s always been Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy throne, son of Lucius, and most importantly a Slytherin. For this reason, he constantly rejected any advances that came from the female students around him. While his rejections came off as rude and cold-hearted, the other students failed to see that Draco, just like everyone else around him, was human too. He was scared of being hurt by the one feeling that he craved the most. 

The walk to class was almost unbearable, he couldn’t stop thinking about the letter. He wanted to know the poet behind those beautiful words, the ones that kept repeating over and over in his head as he tried stirring potions or taking notes. You are what makes everyday worth it. He became hyper aware of his surroundings, assuming that he would know when he sees her, but he failed to realize that she was not someone that could be so easily spotted. She came exactly when you needed her to, not by desire alone.

—-

“Draco,” his friend Blaise called to him, “focus.”

“Oh, right.” Draco replied, trying to get his thoughts together as he walked back to his seat. It was the middle of the school week and his mind was only getting more crowded with the thoughts of her. As he sat back down, his friends swarmed him with questions as to what it was that he smelled in his amortentia, assuming that this would be the first step to finding her.

“I can’t describe it.” He sighed, running a hand through his platinum hair in defeat. “She has me going crazy and I don’t even know her.” 

“Well,” Pansy spoke up, “I suggest maybe moving on? I mean, if she wants to be anonymous it may be for a reason. Plus, you have hundreds of other girls that would kill to be with you, Draco. Maybe try your luck somewhere else.” She flashed him a sincere smile before going in to hold his hand, but her efforts were cut short as the boy suddenly stood up. 

“I don’t want to be with anyone unless it’s her.” He sneered, shaking his head as he turned around and started heading straight to the door. He said a hushed goodbye to his friends before exiting into the crowded hall.

Why couldn’t his friends see that he didn’t want anyone else? He didn’t care about her wealth, status, or looks, all that he wanted was someone that could love him in full. Love him in a way that can’t be tamed, a love that lives long after they do. This was something that he knew he wasn’t going to find any time soon, for as long as he was at Hogwarts he could only be Draco Malfoy.

His hopes were on her.

He walked through the hall, pushing through students that stood in his way as he asserted dominance with a ray of confidence and high ego. Students glared at him but none had the guts to say anything, this fear that Draco instilled was not one that was going to go away any time soon. It was one that he brought upon himself and now had to live with. Somewhere in between his daydreams and the crowded corridor, he felt someone bump into him. Their shoulders collided as his books fell to the floor. The stranger mumbled a quick apology before running off.

In the midst of his anger, he froze. He smelt it. That same scent that clouded him only a few minutes before. There it was, it was her, but just as quickly as he smelled it, she was gone. Only seeing her hair as she turned at the corner of the hallway. 

He quickly got up and chased after her, pushing and shoving anyone that got in his way. This was his chance, he was finally going to meet the girl that’s been making him mad, the one that he’s been dreaming of. His heart was pounding as he ran faster and faster down the hall, students staring at him in confusion as he was passing them by, quills and journals flying out of his bag –  but he didn't care, he couldn’t let her get away.

Once he turned the corner, he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sensation of defeat. His heart crushed as he stared into the empty hallway.

—- 

Two weeks have passed since the day that Draco and her collided. He sat in his bed, holding a brand new letter. The same shade of pink as the one before, with the handwriting that he’s fallen in love with. 

“Draco, 

I’m sorry for not writing to you. I’ve been thinking of you every day, and I just can’t bear to keep dreaming of you without letting you know that I’m sorry for bumping into you in the hallway. The truth is, I’m scared, Draco.

I’m scared you aren’t going to like me for who I am. I’m scared that writing to you was a mistake. I’m scared that the only way you will ever see me is through these letters. I see you every day, why can’t you see me? 

You’re always in my heart, shining above me every night, my constellation. If we remain strangers forever, just know that I’ve never come to love someone like how I love you.”

He was getting restless. Constant possibilities of who it could be running through him, he even considered the possibility that this could be a prank, but no amount of doubt could prevent him from finding her, his hope overpowered all the fear that he had.

Draco sat up once more and started getting ready for dinner. Brushing his hair and straightening out his tie, he needed to look presentable for the off chance that he could be meeting her today. 

He headed down into the Great Hall and that’s when he saw it. A pink envelope in the hands of a girl he’s never talked to, but not just any girl, it was you.

He shouted out into the void, but he wasn’t quick enough. “Hey wait!” he called out, as you quickly grabbed your things and ran off once more. He couldn’t see you like this, it wasn’t the right time. Your face flushed red as you ran, your breathing quickening as your legs started to grow tired, but you could not let him find you. 

Draco chased after you, he was only a few feet behind but with enough determination you knew you could lose him. As you sprinted through the maze of halls, you started to grow light headed, you knew that if you didn’t stop soon you would faint. 

But it’s not the right time 

You stopped in front of a random classroom, rushing to open the door before he could catch up to you, but it was too late. He crashed into you, both of you falling to the ground with a loud thump, his hands landing on either sides of you as you laid in between him.

He finally found you. 

“Who are you?” He asked, not wasting any more time to get to know the girl who stole his heart. You stared into his eyes, feeling a frog in your throat as you mustered up the courage to finally talk to him.

“M-my name is (Y/N).” You whispered, neither of you breaking eye contact. He smiled, grabbing hold of your hands as he went to pick you both up. You were both nervous, too scared of saying the wrong things, but wanting to say them all regardless.

“(Y/N),” he repeated, looking at you with a face full of love and adoration, “I’m Draco.” 

He brushed your hair with his fingers and went to pat the dust off your shoulders. You didn’t know what to say or do, but you didn’t have to.

This was the right time.

 “Come along then (Y/N),” Draco smiled, interlocking his hand in yours before leading you back down to the Great Hall, “we have a lot of catching up to do.”

[goldengirlgalaxy]

Reverse Clone AU

So, I've seen a couple stories where Danny is Damian's clone. How about we reverse it?

Danny was born Damian Al Ghul, being raised to be an assassin since he could walk. However, he had a good heart, and eventually his mother overstepped around him (maybe she killed one of his favorite caretakers? Maybe he saw her killing someone with a loving family?), causing him to decide to leave the League next time they let him outside.

He was discovered by the Fentons, got adopted, and had his name changed from Damian Al Ghul into Daniel 'Danny' Fenton. Over the years, his time in the League slowly faded from memory, only remembering that one moment that drove him from them.

Talia, meanwhile, tried to create another baby, but found she didn't have any more DNA from Bruce. However, she did have plenty of Damian/Danny's DNA, so she decided to simply clone her son, making sure that this one would never get it in his head to run away. She decided to let the memory of her first son go, completely overriding it with the new Damian, as if he had been the first son and not merely some clone, forcing everyone in the League to keep the fact a secret.

So, things continue on, Danny becomes Phantom, Damian becomes Robin, so on and so forth. Eventually, one of the Batclan stumble upon Danny and take an interest in him once they realize he looks like Damian.

They actually don't think that he's a clone, because he's older than Damian and records show him having a history older than Damian, so they believe that Talia had another child, which Damian is already a little salty about, because it means that his status as the heir of the League and potentially his title as the only blood son of batman are completely meaningless.

Unfortunately, their investigations lead to the League figuring out where Danny is, at which point Talia drops by and decides to reveal in front of everyone that Danny is the original Damian and Damian is a clone meant to take his place.

The only one who takes it well is Danny, who tells everyone to get off his porch before he activates the home defense systems because he does not care for this drama.

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

The Prince - Chapter Five

A/N: First Sunday without a new hotd episode, how are we feeling? Hopefully, this fic can help fill that hotd void. Once again, thank you so much for all of your comments, likes, and reblogs on the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one, too <3

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 3.6k Synopsis: In Jace's absence, the reader contends with their feelings, finally coming to the realization that these feelings aren't going away.

Tag List: @rinisfruity14, @gaiaea, @rexorangecouny, @burningwitchobject, @brckenmemories, @thenotesapppoet, @elleclairez

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Tension hangs in the air throughout the entire Keep the next morning. As you walk down the halls towards Rhaena’s room, you hear hushed discussions, spot worried faces, and fear slowly creeps over you.

The first thing you hear when you get to Rhaena’s room is her hushed tone saying, “He’ll be fine.” You feel as though you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be, and try to walk back out, but Baela spots you and waves you in.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you say.

“You didn’t,” Baela says.

“Is everything alright?”

“There is unrest in the Iron Islands,” Rhaena says. “It seems the Lannisters and a few lords of the Iron Islands have been fighting over territory.”

“It is an uprising,” Baela corrects. “And the queen has sent Jace to attend to it.”

“Tend to it?” you ask quietly, panic icing your body.

“He’s going to be fine,” Rhaena says, looking to her sister.

“I know,” she says softly.

“He might not see any battle,” she says. “We don’t yet know what the status is.” They both look equally concerned for Jace, and you hate that you can’t share your own concern with them.

He had come to your room last night, and with a horrifying realization, you know he was coming to tell you goodbye. He had been trying to tell you he was leaving, and you had denied him.

“He’ll be fine,” you agree aloud, because he is your prince and that’s what everyone must say when the heir is in danger; but also because you need to believe it for yourself, too.

In the coming days, rumors spread. Some claim there is absolutely no warring in the islands, just quarrels between land-hungry lords. Others say it is bloodshed comparable to the peaks of the war. And there are those who declare it is all a ruse to solidify the crown's position.

None of it makes you feel any better. There is, however, the bitter hope inside of you that Lord Blacktyde is somehow involved and might be taken out by an arrow or swing of a sword, if fighting has indeed broke out. But your thoughts can’t rest there for long, so stuck on Jace are they.

You keep playing over what happened in the Dragonpit, how you left things. It seemed the right thing to do, albeit painful. There was no future for you and Jace, giving in to it for even a day would doom you for the rest of your life.

You try to throw yourself into other tasks. You embroider a dress for Jeyne, go to the coast with Rhaena to watch her bond with Morning, and keep your meetings with more suitors.

There is one such suitor, a Ser Swann, who you have met with twice before. He is kind, can sometimes make you laugh, and is by far the best candidate. But when he looks at you, when his hand brushes yours, you feel nothing.

You remember how you clung to Jace in the Dragonpit, the easy way he held you and made you feel safe. Even just the feeling of your hand in his sent a spark through you. You hate to compare the two men, but every interaction with Jace, even just a passing meeting in the hallway, left your heart racing.

During your date with Ser Swann, these thoughts never leave you. Everything he does, you imagine from someone else's lips, someone else's hand. That night, as you lay in bed, you toss and turn. It has been five days since Jacaerys left, and still, you cannot get him out of your thoughts.

Why did you refuse him entry? Why did you drop his hand? Why didn’t you kiss him, just once?

Jace had created plenty of opportunity for the two of you to kiss. He had sat next to you in this very bed, taken care of you, seen you at your lowest, and still he wanted to kiss you. He brought you to spar with him, clearly seeing the way you were longing for him, and kept you close to him, to see if you would finally act. In the gardens and in the Dragonpit, he had held your body to his, kept you safe, and yet, you pushed him away.

What was wrong with you?

He will return from the Iron Islands, you know. You have to believe. But the chance you might have had with him, you fear is quickly dwindling away.

You had told him he would ruin you, if you gave into your desires. But the truth was, he already had ruined you. You know that now. Ser Swann was a perfectly fine gentleman, and you could have been happy with him, if you didn’t know that there was better.

You are ruined for any other man, because every other man is not him.

You get very little sleep that night. When Brigitta comes in the next morning to wake you, you are already up, exhaustion written over your face.

“My lady,” she says, slightly in chaste, but also in concern.

“I’m fine, Brigitta. Nothing a cup of tea won’t fix.” She is silent as she prepares the tea for you, but when she brings it over, there is a note left next to the mug.

“He left that for you,” she says. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to read it or not, but I think you better.”

“Thank you,” you say, forgetting the tea altogether as you rip open the seal. Brigitta gives you a moment's privacy and goes about getting your outfit ready for the day.

Y/N – I am sorry to leave without saying goodbye. Do not worry for me, I promise I will return safely. I hope that the time I am gone will be enough space for you, as I would very much like to continue our conversation from the Dragonpit, if you’ll grant me such leave.

Yours, Jace

“Are you ready, My Lady?” Brigitta asks. You aren’t sure if she's referring to something in the note, the dress she holds in her hand, or something else, but the letter has given you a new sense of purpose.

“I am.”

As she gets you ready, Brigitta lets you know that the flowers in the gardens have bloomed and recommends that you see them for yourself today. You had forgotten to find a task for the day, and you’re thankful for her idea.

You are making your way towards the gardens, when he comes around the opposite hallway.

“Prince Jacaerys,” you say, stopping abruptly in the hallway. Your knees wobble, nearly knocking you to the floor, seeing him in one piece. “I didn’t realize you had returned.”

“Just,” he says. You take a moment to look him over, checking for any visible injuries.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t see you that night,” you say, nervously fiddling with the sleeves of your gown. Jace frowns at you, frowns at the movement. He glances at the guards following him and nods them away. You watch them slip into the nearest door.

“Don’t apologize,” he says, “You wanted to be left alone.”

“I did say that,” you say, “But if you are heading into dangerous territory, of course I would want to know, want to hear you out,” you say with a shake of your head.

“Needless to remind you, Y/N, I’m a prince,” he says, “Often I am sent to do dangerous things.”

“Of course,” you say with a tight-lipped smile. Sudden frustration fills your bloodstream at his cool demeanor. He has never acted this closed off with you and you aren't sure how to navigate through it. The courage you had felt when you left your room seems to be fading quickly.

“I got your letter,” you say weakly.

“Good,” he says, glancing down at his boots. There is a strange silence, that is so unlike the two of you. He is nervous, angry with with you, or just over his feelings? This behavior from him is so unexpected, you want to run away before you do something embarrassing.

“Well, welcome home, Your Highness,” you say stiffly.

“You sound as though you were worried for me,” he says, before you can turn from him. You meet his eyes, and somewhere in them, you see the Jace you know.

“You are the future of the realm, of course I worry for you,” you say. Jace lets out a tut of laughter, closing some of the distance between the two of you.

“Of course,” he says to himself. “Is that all?” he asks, his eyes locking with yours again.

“What?”

“Is that the only reason you worried?”

“Jace,” you say, your voice barely a breath.

“I hate it when you call me anything other than Jace,” he says with a smile. At the sight of that smile, ridiculously, your breathing turns shallow. You watch Jace’s eyes fall to your chest, watching the rise and fall of your breasts. You realize how close he has gotten to you, how close you’ve allowed him to get.

“I could have died, I very nearly almost did,” he says lowly. Your eyebrows scrunch in worry, and Jace brushes your hair out of your face, his hand cupping your cheek. “Because I know you, I know you must have thought about if I did. You must have thought about regrets, what you would do if you ever saw me again.”

“Jace,” you try again, putting a hand on his chest, partially to push him away, and also to feel him, feel his beating heart. He is right and he knows it. He has grown to know you so well in the last weeks. Every night, you played this moment over in your mind again and again, what you would do when you saw him again.

“Y/N,” he says, just as soft.

“I didn’t worry too much,” you whisper, lying, “You told me you’d return.” Jace’s eyes flick between yours and your lips.

“You believed me?” he asks lowly.

“Yes,” you say, realizing that it was easy. You trust him and believe in him. Up until the Dragonpit, you had truly thought that his feelings were based purely on attraction. But seeing him now, looking into his eyes, you know he was telling the truth. It’s love in his eyes, and a weight lifts off you when you realize the same feeling is inside you, too. You love him, and in that moment, you know that no matter what comes, you want him, for as long as you can have him.

“Was this enough time apart?” he asks with a smile, “I’m not sure I can—”

“Yes,” you say, and before Jace gets the chance to say anything, your lips finally, finally meet his. His lips are soft, and it only takes a moment for him to shake his shock and take control of the kiss. You very nearly moan as he does, seamlessly pinning you against the wall.

Your hands are on his face, in his hair, anything to pull him closer. When his tongue slips into your mouth, you do moan. The sound elicits a similar one from Jace, and he presses you firmer into the wall. His rough hands trail down your sides, gripping your waist, holding you flush against him. In that moment, you would have let him touch you anywhere and everywhere, just to keep him close to you, keep him alive.

A throat clears at the end of the hallway, and you snap back to your senses, breaking away from each other. You take a healthy step back from him and adjust your dress. Jace is breathing heavily, a beautiful smile on his face.

A glance down the hall reveals a white cloak, just a shoulder standing outside of the doorframe. You assume it’s Ser Harrold, thankfully bringing you both to your senses.

You look at Jace and both laugh when his eyes meet yours. He moves closer to you, and takes your hand, placing a gentle, but far too long to be proper, kiss to it. You take a shaky breath at the look in his eyes as he looks up at you.

“I love you,” you say gently. Jace’s eyes widen, and he looks to be in physical pain that he can’t kiss you again. He just smiles and gives your hand a squeeze.

“I’m sorry to have worried you, Lady Y/N,” he says.

“I’m just happy you’ve returned.”

“As am I,” he says. He nods down the hallway, holding out an arm for you. You take it, your pulse quickening at the closeness of your bodies. You look up at him, seeing the smile on his lips, the slight pink tint to them from your kiss.

“I need to see my mother, tell her about my journey,” he says, continuing the walk down the hallway, “But I want to see you as soon as possible. Will you join me for supper tonight? In my quarters.”

“Jace,” you start. He looks down at you, a smile growing on his face.

“Please.”

You can only nod your head. He smiles and breaks from your side, leaving you cold. He kisses your hand once again.

“My chambers, just after sunset,” he says.

“Yes.”

It is dark in his room when you arrive. This shouldn’t surprise you; he invited you after sunset. But in the dark, you aren’t sure what you’ll do. You broke all conduct and kissed him in daylight, with several guards within earshot.

Candles are strewn about his room. Soft light illuminates Jace in the corner, adjusting his shirt nervously in the mirror. In the reflection, he sees you, and a smile grows on his face.

He crosses the room in two strides and rest his hands on your waist. His lips are gentle when they meet yours. You push him off at the first brush, looking around the room anxiously.

“Don’t worry,” he says, tugging at your waist slightly to have you face him. “I dismissed all the servants. Ser Harold is the only one at the door. He has already promised his secrecy.” You let out a sigh, smiling at him as you trace his jawline with your finger. He closes the gap between the two of you again, and you don’t pull away this time.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he says, resting his forehead against yours when he breaks away.

“Me too,” you say with a laugh. Jace kisses you again before taking your hand and leading you over to his table. A small feast is laid out before you. Jace pulls out a chair for you, pushing you in with ease.

“I hope wine is alright,” he says, pouring some into your goblet. “I know the mead we had before didn’t agree with you.”

“Wine is wonderful,” you say, “And I don’t think it was the mead that made me sick.”

“What then?” he asks, sitting across from you.

“Feelings I was trying to fight,” you say.

“You don’t seem to be fighting them anymore."

“I don’t think it’s a battle I can win. Or even want to win," you say, taking a sip of the sweet wine.

“And you came to this realization while I was gone?” he asks, drinking from his own glass. Your eyes watch the movement along his neck greedily.

“Before you left, I said that you would ruin me, if we gave into this feeling between us.”

“I remember,” he says, setting his jaw. You reach across the small table and take his hand, your thumb brushing against his skin.

“But while you were gone, I realized you already had ruined me. Ruined every other man for me. You infiltrated my mind and my heart, Jace. If I can only have you for a day, I’ll take it, rather than live my life with regret.”

“It won’t be just a day," he says, gripping your hand firmly, his eyes wide with emotion.

“I hope so.”

“I am still talking with my mother. We will find a way to keep us together.”

“I believe you,” you say, “But I don’t want to talk about the future anymore, uncertain as it is. I just want to be here with you tonight.”

Fuck, he could stay like this forever: his hands wrapped around your waist, yours on his shoulders, your soft lips locked with his. The evening had progressed to a couch in his chambers – neither of you ready to move to the bed just yet.

He had wanted this for so long, had imagined it a hundred times over. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine you wanting him just as much. Never did he believe you would love him, too. And never did he imagine that kissing you would feel this good.

Your hand cups his jaw, drawing him closer. Your chest presses against his. He wants to pull you in, wants your bodies to become one, but he reminds himself that this is just the first night. There will be more to come.

“Jace,” you say, breaking away to catch your breath. He is not so eager to break contact. His arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you into his lap.

“Yes?” he says against your neck, his mouth traveling down the slender column. You breathe shakily, your body pressing into his when his tongue glides over the sensitive skin at your collarbone. He hums happily, exploring which parts make you press into him, which make you whimper.

“Jace,” you say again.

“Yes, Y/N?” he says, smiling against your molten skin.

“It’s getting late,” you say, whining when he bites softly, careful to not leave a mark. “I need to get back to my own chambers.”

“But there’s so much I’ve yet to explore,” he says, looking at you. Your pupils are blown wide, a sight that fills him with male satisfaction. He tastes your lips softly, in between smiles.

“Like what?” you ask. A wicked look passes over his face.

“Well,” he says, “Here.” He kisses the hinge of your jaw, relishing the arch of your back at his actions.

“Here.” He bites gently on your ear lobe.

“Jace,” you gasp.

“And I didn’t even get to these,” he says, his hand cupping your breast. “You have no idea how much I love these.”

Despite what you said, you kiss him again, falling back onto the couch as he continues to palm your breasts. His hands move down to your hips, gripping tightly, and holding you flush against him. But never any further than that.

You stay there for a long while. Each time you suggest that you need to leave, Jace manages to convince you to stay. Eventually though, you extract yourself from underneath him. For a moment, you just look at each other, the flushed skin, the clothes that hang awkwardly.

“I love you,” he says, smiling at you as you try to bring some semblance of order to your unruly hair. You look over at him, a soft smile on your own face.

“I’m glad for it,” you say. You stand, tugging at your dress, before presenting yourself to Jace. “How do I look?” you ask.

“Gorgeous,” he says, taking your hand, kissing up your arm.

“I mean,” you say with a laugh, pulling your arm from him, “Do I look presentable?” He stands and looks you over for a long moment, making you shake your head. He snakes his arm around your waist.

“You do,” he says, kissing your lips softly. Your arms wrap around him again, and for a second, he thinks he might convince you to stay. But you hum against his mouth and pull away. Your hand rests on his chest as you catch your breath.

“Stop doing that,” you say with a laugh.

“Doing what?”

“Making me want to stay.”

“Maybe,” he says, gripping your hips, pulling you against him. He knows you can feel how much he wants you, how much he has wanted you all night. “You should just stay.”

“It’s late,” you sigh.

“Another reason to stay.”

“Brigitta will be expecting me.”

“Maids are good at keeping secrets,” he says, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“I love you,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him gently. It’s the millionth time you’ve kissed him today, but still, each time feels like the first. Like it’s air, like it’s a touch he's waited for his whole life. “I have to go.”

“Let me walk you to your chambers at least,” he says as you pull from his grasp. His hand reaches for yours and trails out of it as you keep moving.

“I think I can make it on my own.”

“It’s late, you never know who might be prowling around the castle.”

“All the more reason to keep you protected, Your Highness,” you say, back resting against his door. Jace smiles, the title now feeling like a joke between the two of you, instead of propriety.

“I really can’t convince you to stay, can I?” he asks. You shake your head at him, a small smile on your face. “Very well.” He makes to open the door, but his hand instead rests against it, the other wraps around your waist, bringing your lips to his again. You gasp into the kiss, the sound making Jace practically feral with need. He holds you for a long while before you put a hand to his chest, bringing you both back to the present moment.

“Goodnight, Jace,” you say.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says, reluctantly opening the door for you. Ser Harrold is stationed there still, and Jace feels a modicum of shame that the knight probably heard the last bit of your conversation. You exchange a look with him, your cheeks red with embarrassment, and you both laugh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says.

“I look forward to it, My Prince.”

[yaoyaobae]

Another twst oc introduction 🏃‍♀️

Jaseem

School : Royal Sword Academy

Favourite food: Rice dishes, Shawarma

Pastime: Playing with his pet tiger Rana, Visiting Kalim, Discovering wildlife

Family: Father, Mother, Kalim(Cousin)

Role: Dormhead

Jaseem is a third year at RSA. To most people he may seem like a lone wolf who despises making friendships, but underneath the surface is a gentle boy who longs for freedom.

Being born from a wealthy family with relations to the Asims, Jaseem’s status is nothing new to even the freshmen. Every year groups of students and parents from high status families would flock around him offering their sister/daughters hand in marriage.

Before he was allowed to bring Rana to school (don’t ask me how he did it-) Jaseem had no choice but to either 1. Run as fast as possible or 2. Teleport himself to a safe spot. Now with Rana, a fearsome tiger donning an expensive turquoise silk ribbon, nobody dares to approach Jaseem anymore.

Personality wise, Jaseem is extremely sharp-tongued and will not tolerate a single second on people he deems as childish. He is capable of cooperating with others but would prefer to work alone. Despite the cold exterior, if one can prove that they love tigers as much as he does.. maybe they’d stand a chance to win his attention. And if you can win his trust, Jaseem is probably the most loyal ally/friend you will ever get.

Having attended many arranged marriage meetings, Jaseem is already accustomed to how he must act around the ladies even if he dislikes interacting with them and entertaining their thoughtless comments about his wealth.

He is actually really bad at conveying his feelings, particularly romantic ones. He can no longer grasp the real meaning of love and has trust issues about whether someone is genuinely interested in him. This only numbed Jaseem more over the years hence brushing these feelings aside.

Jaseem has a general disliking towards women due to his past, but he will respect those who deserve it and mean their words. He won’t voice his opinions unless the situation gets on his nerves.

Jaseem’s mother was hospitalised when he was a young child and has been living there for many years, only visiting for a few days when the doctors deem her suitable. Due to schoolwork and other business matters, Jaseem is unable to visit her as much as his father. But he tries to make time for her as he feels most comfortable and at ease when talking to her about his troubles.

His father already told him that he will never marry another woman as he loves his wife very much, this made Jaseem envious as he hopes to be able to find someone he can stand by faithfully someday. While he feels that his father can be rather strict, both father and son have mutual respect for one another as they only want the best for the family.

Backstory

Back when the life wasn’t as complicated, Jaseem was extremely cheerful and lived every day to the fullest with the vast amount of wealth his family possessed.

However when he had reached the age of 10, his life began to fall apart. As the only son, Jaseem was forced to find a future wife sooner or later. From then on he had to attend countless numbers of arranged marriage meetings, parties while attending his father’s business conferences. Jaseem thought he could shoulder this responsibility , but that pressure would just build up later as he grew older.

Arranged marriage meetings were the worst. Jaseem learnt how shallow and sly people could be, faking their entire personality to coddle up to him for the sole purpose of attaining his family’s wealth. “But that’s just the reality of being the only heir isn’t it”, he thought. Jaseem became increasingly saddened over the fact that no one genuinely TRIED to understand his hobbies or know more about him, only throwing empty praises about his home/accessories/looks.

Since young Jaseem has been fascinated with tigers and his mother was the one who encouraged him to take care of one ( much to his father’s reluctance), thus Rana became his new family member. Many of his suitresses cringed at the sight of Rana whom they saw as a dirty, wild animal. Sometimes Jaseem’s father had no choice but to order the guards to take Rana away in order to force Jaseem to follow his schedule , which made him even more depressed.

Eventually, Jaseem had reached his breaking point during one of the parties and wanted to escape his “cage” even bringing Rana with him. It was then he met a young, white haired boy in the greenhouse. Jaseem couldn’t hold back his tears when the boy comforted him, claiming that he can share the same sentiments. It was after they were called to the main event where Jaseem learnt that the boy was no other than Kalim Al Asim, the oldest son and soon-to-be heir of one of the richest families in the world and his cousin.

From that moment onwards, the two spent their childhood days together basking in the sunlight and running around the mansion. They confided in each other, became each other’s source of strength to keep doing their best( this was especially stronger for Jaseem towards Kalim). They drifted a little after entering higher education, but still keep in contact.

For Jaseem, Kalim is the definition of the sun. Had he not met this smiley boy showing off his unique magic and telling him how he must continue to do his best as not only the heir but as an older brother too, Jaseem would have had a different fate and never face his reality. This explains why he hates Jamil to the core after knowing what he had done when he overblotted.

Current lifestyle for Jaseem was no different from his younger days, he still attends arranged marriage meetings (fewer due to school) and gets numerous phonecalls from his father about countries they have to fly to for business conferences. Jaseem became more adept at his dealings with women and can twist meetings to end faster to save his time to do something useful.. like picking a new silk ribbon for Rana. 🐯

Relationships

Kalim

Cousins by blood and childhood best friends. While many students in NRC thinks Kalim is way too carefree, Jaseem would cut in and tell them off as Kalim is not the oblivious rich boy many thinks he is.

He respects Kalim’s motto to be kind to others, lend a helping hand when needed and staying positive despite the challenges life throws at him. Jaseem wishes to protect this precious spirit, praying that Kalim will have nothing but happiness in his life. Jaseem truly looks up to Kalim for being able to smile through everything he’s been through, believing that he wouldn’t even survive a day in that household knowing he might not live to see the next day.

Jaseem can be extremely over protective of Kalim especially when Jamil is around. “I can’t let that damn snake cause any harm to my cousin..”he would think angrily while glaring at Jamil💀

Jamil

If not for the sake of his family image and Kalim Jaseem would have pummeled Jamil to the ground for the things he said and had done to Kalim. While he tries his best to understand Kalim, Jaseem still cannot fathom why he’d want to keep this traitor who doesn’t even consider him a friend by his side.

Unlike his caring and soft self when he is with Kalim, Jaseem treats Jamil like a mere servant and only replies with direct commands. Sometimes he would mock Jamil for the sake of belittling him, but would not stoop as low as to bring his family into it. The atmosphere around these two can be very intense indeed.

If Jaseem learns to see the overblot incident from Jamil’s point of view, perhaps he will come to understand that the two of them aren’t so different after all.

Najma

One of the few girls he respects, Jaseem is like a second older brother to Najma. Of course Najma catches on quick and can tell that Jaseem isn’t exactly fond of her brother, so she has to constantly remind Jaseem to stop frowning whenever he spots Kalim and Jamil together. He tries his best to be nicer to Jamil, but only because Najma wouldn’t stop nagging at him 🤣

Bonus: Rielle

If you’ve seen my old comics about my RSA ocs i often draw Jaseem and Rielle bickering 🤣 Jaseem thinks Rielle is incompetent and has dad issues while Rielle views Jaseem as a weirdo who is way too protective of his cousin, also why would any sane person bring a TIGER to school??

Fun facts about Jaseem’s design

He carries a waist pouch filled with Rana’s treats, various silk ribbons, water dispenser, comb and toys ( just to name a few). The pouch is magically altered to carry many items.

The tiger plush keychain was a gift from his mother when his parents brought him to an amusement park on his birthday. Jaseem did not have the best experience as he was constantly surrounded by guards and journalists, no other children wanted to play with the renowned heir too.

His seemingly blue day turned upside down when he spotted a cute tiger plush in the souvenir shop, thinking about how it looks exactly like Rana. Jaseem’s mother noticed his adoration for the fluffy toy on the top shelf and asked the staff to order one for Jaseem. Even though this silly fabric toy could not compare to the vast amount of gold and expensive gifts Jaseem received, he saw his mother’s gift as something invaluable that money can’t buy.

Till this day he still brings his tiger plush around with him chained to his waist pouch. Though it looks rather dull after being used for years, you can still tell how well washed and cared for it is by its owner.

I struggled trying to incorporate Jasmine’s hairband into the design but for now its a turquoise strand of hair that starts from the top of his head so it looks like a hairband! Its also Jaseem’s way of exploring with his own style knowing that he is far away from his home and strict upbringing. The first time Jaseem dyed his hair he thought “So this is what its like to be rebellious..interesting” 🤣

His earrings are different, the one on the right is a slightly thick gold piece ( OG Jasmine) while the left is a decorative earring with small, dangling chains and a huge jewel ( Live action Jasmine). I thought it would be cool to incorporate both earrings as I couldn’t settle on one.

END

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed Jaseem too, I’m really happy with the response for Alison haha 😭 Till next time!

*Also I know someone addressed it before but I mean to express Jaseem’s love towards Kalim as familial, nothing more. How you choose to see my OCs is up to your interpretation so long as you don’t twist my words and stories i wrote for them :)

[draconic-desire]

THE NAIVE DARLINGGGG

I can imagine darling crying into Sunday.. at first refusing going to home, expressing her insecurities. So when Sunday drags her back, she just pleads with Sunday. All darling wants to to serve at least some purpose to Sundays life. She begs Sunday to let her cook for him .. or in her sobbing fit shr muttered how even having Sundays baby would serve some usefullness.. Darling didnt want to seem like a burden to Sunday..

At the mention of babies, Sunday gets the idea of how sweet little children will tie darling to him forever

The baby will come out a lil skrunkly , in a cite way of course <3 a fat plump baby who looks like a dumpling with chicken wings attached to the back of its ear :"(

sunday would 1000% babytrap his darling at some point, you cannot convince me otherwise. but if YOU came to HIM about it? girl bye you’re done for

Yan!Sunday x Fem!Reader

warning: nsfw thoughts from sunday, mentions of pregnancy

After Sunday leads you back home, it doesn’t take long for your thoughts to spiral again.

Walking through the halls of the spacious pavilion, eying the grandeur that is Sunday’s home, pondering his status as the head of the Family…you start to wonder what you bring to the table.

He claims he loves you, that you are unique and irreplaceable, but what does that really mean? You have no money, wealth, or fame, no notable skills that could contribute to the Oak Family lineage.

Well, except…

Your hand falls to your abdomen. It’s something Sunday has mentioned in passing, the need for an heir, the desire to expand his family, but you never thought he meant doing so with you. But perhaps…?

Your head shakes violently, and you turn to wipe away a stray tear. How foolish of you. Sunday doesn’t keep you around for that sort of thing. His hier will be delivered from a queen, befitting of the same status as him, and not some nobody like you.

Like always, Sunday is more attentive than you give him credit for.

He thinks it’s cute, how naive and oblivious you are sometimes. Except when he notices that this time, you are attempting to hide your crying behind the palm on your hand.

“(Y/n), my love, what troubles you?” He gently pulls your hand away from your face and instead turns you to face him.

Seeing him like this, his tender gaze trained on your form alone, suddenly makes you burst into tears.

“S-S-Sunday,” you sob, “please let me help! I’ll do anything!”

He blinks, confusion written across his features. “Help? With what? (Y/n), it’s been a long day, let me take you to bed—”

You clasp his hands in your own, looking up at him with (e/c) eyes brimming with tears. “Please, don’t throw me aside for someone else. I-I promise I’m not a burden. You need an heir, right? So please, let me carry that responsibility.”

He inhales sharply, his amethyst pupils dilating.

…Did he hear you correctly?

You want to have his child?

Sunday momentarily forgets how to breathe.

Oh, how he has fantasized about this very scenario; it has taken all of his willpower to hold back, to fool you into believing his charming, domestic mannerisms, when he truly wishes to claim every part of you, to brand himself upon every inch of your flesh. Lovely, beautiful, naive little you would never expect the dark desires hidden beneath the surface.

In reality, the thought of you begging for his seed permeates his waking and sleeping dreams. He’s lost track of the amount of nights spent with his hand around his cock, picturing your tight cunt wrapped around it instead.

Never would he have imagined you in this position willingly, practically on your knees for him, desperate for his cum, for his child growing in your belly. The idea arouses him more than you can ever know, and he has to shift to hide his growing erection.

Instead, he scoops you into his arms and nuzzles his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent. Oh, how lovely you’re going to smell when you’re glowing and round with his heir! He imagines how adorable his Halovian child will be, and how he wishes to pin a pair of wings behind your ears as well—a matching set for father, mother, and child.

The wings are, of course, the very ones ripped from your own back—you’re just too entranced by Sunday to notice it was he who plucked them from you to begin with.

And now, Sunday is through with holding back. You’re going to be fully and irrevocably his, tied to him forever. Like a fly landing on a venus trap, your own actions seal your fate. You don’t have a moment to react before the jaws of the predator swallow you whole.

“How could I deny you, my angel?” he coos, pacing towards the bedroom as he begins to pry at the buttons of your top. “And what better time to begin than the present, hm?”

[velocesainz]

Le reali

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist |

summary: Carlos hasn't publicly dated anyone in over 3 years and people get suspicious. He tries to tell his friends that he's dating the heiress of Italy but they don't believe him until a special moment.

Warnings: None, cursing?, fluffy

Pairing: Carlos x Italian!princess!reader

Carlos showed the entire text chain to y/n and as she scrolled through the responses bursted into laughter at lando's response to Carlos.

"Love, I wasn't pissed. I was just annoyed that he was feeding into rumours. Poor Lando must've been scared out of his wits" y/n told Carlos.

Carlos chuckled "Lando deserves to be scared out of his wits from time to time darling. How else would he function effectively and not spill our secret in front of the entire world?" he told y/n

"I guess you're right" y/n laughed.

"Amore?" Carlos called out to y/n

"Si, Corázon?" Y/n replied adjusting in the bed to meet his eye.

"Do you ever want to go public? I mean I'm not forcing you to go public, just asking. We've been together for 3 years now" Carlos asked with a thoughtful and soft expression on his face.

"Of course Corázon, I would love to. Do you want to maybe go public on the day of the Monza GP? I've already gotten an invite and will be giving out the trophies" y/n replied with a soft smile.

"That would be absolutely wonderful amore" Carlos said softly and held her close.

Timeskip:

"Ready to go sis?" y/n's brother asked her as it was time to leave for the GP

She was only going to go for the race day otherwise it would seem suspicious to the public and they wanted to be extra careful.

"Yea yeah let's go" Y/n called out grabbing her brothers hand and getting into the car.

She was more than ready to reveal to the world her relationship with the love of her life

Meanwhile: (Carlos Pov)

"Mate is your girlfriend ever going to come or are you just pranking us all?" Charles asked me while everyone was waiting around in the paddock for y/n to come.

"Yea mate, no shame in saying you haven't been able to get girls for the past 3 years. At least don't live in the delusion that the direct heir to the Italian throne is your girlfriend."

Nobody believed me except Lando since he's met her but everyone thinks me and him are pranking them together.

I would get my sweet sweet revenge.

But deep down I was scared. I was planning to propose to her soon. If I got on the podium today, I would propose and I've never been more scared for a race in my life.

Her entire family would watch me race for their country and would also find out about our relationship because she was very private and didn't share even with her family. Would they approve of me? Would they force me and her to break up?

Just then her family walked into the paddock and everyone immediately stood up and greeted the family but she was not in sight.

"So Prince b/n how do you feel about your sister dating our friend over here?" Fernando asked her brother and dragged me into his view

"Dating? I wasn't aware that my sister was dating anyone. That too with a commoner? Not expected." Her brother replied and my heart slowly sank to my stomach.

The rest of the grid came up to me.

"See Carlos? How would you be dating Prince y/b/n's sister without him knowing? Stop living in your delusion" Max said

"Mate such delusion isn't good for you at all. You should start seeing the team therapist a little more" Charles added.

The rest of the grid exchanged glances of amusement and worry while Lando came over to me.

"Don't worry Carlos, I believe you. Don't listen to them. You and Y/n have a beautiful relationship and she told me that she didn't want to inform her brother of her relationship status since she, frankly, hates him" Lando told me and I felt slightly better.

but her brother didn't approve of me, why would the rest of her family? I was internally panicking when Y/n's father King f/n came up to me and took me aside

"So you're the lad dating my daughter huh?" He asked me

"Si señor, I love Y/n with all my heart" I responded slightly nervous about his response

"She made a good choice, how long have you both been together? She didn't give me many details" He asked

"We've been together for 3 years senor. We met when I was invited to the royal house for my medal" I replied feeling better that at least her father approved of us

"And no proposal?" He said with a smirk on his face

"I was planning on proposing to her if I get on the podium for the race today and also wanted your blessings señor" I answered

"Good good. I've seen that she's been much happier around the palace ever since she started dating you. She truly loves you and you have mine and her mother's blessing. May you both be forever happy together" with that he left as I the race was about to start.

I gave Ricciardo my ring box and gave him all the instructions before getting into the car.

After the race:

I couldn’t believe it.

I had won in Monza.

The crowd was going absolutely wild as I got out of my car and the mechanics lined up outside tapping my helmet congratulating me.

I felt like I was in a dream.

I looked over to the vip box and I saw y/n in all her glory.

The look of admiration she had and her soft smile made me fall for her all over again.

That was when I knew nothing else mattered.

It didn’t matter to me that her brother didn’t approve of our relationship. It didn’t matter to me that my friends didn’t believe my relationship.

I had her and that was all that mattered.

The podium ceremony came quickly and y/n’s brother gave out the p2 and p3 trophies.

Then came my turn and y/n walked into the podium with the most elegant red dress I’ve ever seen.

She looked absolutely ethereal and I couldn’t wait for her to be mine forever.

She handed me the trophy and I raised it over my head after which I leaned in to kiss her.

The crowd went absolutely wild when they saw the scene.

I took the ring box from Ricciardo and got on one knee and I saw tears welling up in her eyes.

“Y/n. You have made me the happiest person these past 3 years and it would mean the world to me if you were with me for the rest of my life. Y/n m/n l/n will you marry me?” I asked her pouring the emotions out.

“Yes Carlos! Of course I’ll marry you” she said and hugged me tight.

I slipped the ring on her finger and we kissed once again.

Timeskip:

“Hey Carlos, sorry about all the comments we passed. We really couldn’t believe that you were actually in a relationship with the princess of Italy. We apologise for our actions” Charles apologised to me on behalf of the rest of the grid

“It’s ok mate, I myself can’t believe that I bagged a literal princess” I laughed

Y/n came back to me and it was time for us to leave.

In the car y/n sat leaning her head against my shoulder

“Our wedding is going to be one of the most celebrated occasions in Italy you know? They’re going to keep it as a national holiday and it will be broadcasted live on tv for everyone to see. Are you sure you’re ok with that?” She asked me in a soft voice

“Of course amore , as long as in the end I get to be with you. I’m ready to do anything.”

A/n: hope you guys enjoyed this fic. Took me a while to come up with it. Would appreciate feedback and suggestions. Also please send me any requests you have! Kissies ✨

[dadsbongos]

for honor. and duty.

3.2k words / warnings - forced breeding, injections, drugging, unhappy end, reader is written as a woman

summary - it's his job to carry on the bloodline, and its your job to love Satoru Gojo; thankless as both gigs are.

kinktober: day nine - breeding, aphrodisiac ~~~

Satoru was disinterested in fathering children. 

While he loved teaching, and teasing Megumi throughout the years was a joy, raising an entire person from scratch? An unnecessary addition to his plate he would rather be without. Besides, he was only scratching at his late 20s, why should he rush into having babies?

His feelings were not hidden, either. Everything about Satoru screamed childfree. Most respected the decision; for the Gojo clan to be written into history with Satoru as the cataclysmic final bang -- the sole pillar maintaining his clan’s status in the big three. It would be an honor and a pleasure, were he humble enough to silently accept both.

But Satoru loves whining.

“Too bad the Six Eyes and Limitless will be totally lost to time when I die…” he pouts every time he says it. Purely to gloat that not only does he have both, but he will be the last one in history, “If only someone could take them off my hands, huh?”

Maybe he should’ve just shut his mouth.

… 

“Why don’t you donate, then?” Shoko snarks one random Wednesday, finally fed up with Satoru’s haughty huffs this particular lunch break, “I’m sure your swimmers wouldn’t be unwelcome if they could make another special grade.”

“Gross, Sho,” you gag, then pointing at the man, “Don’t respond to that.”

Predictably, you’re ignored, “But who would be worthy, Shoko? Huh?” Satoru snickers when you gag even louder, “It’d have to be another sorcerer, you know? Can’t just put a super baby in any ole lady.”

“I’m sure you could find someone for a good price,” Shoko leans onto her palm, “Some high up clan girl. A Zen’in? It’d make her life better by getting out of that place, I bet.”

“Can we not talk about this while I’m eating, please?” you gesture to your lunch, though you hardly have the appetite for it now anyway. 

“You can say you’re jealous,” Satoru teases into your ear, laying his head on your shoulder. There’s no warmth of skin to feel, and if you closed your eyes the weight wouldn’t be reasonable for a human head either -- much lighter. Airier. As if he isn’t there at all.

“I’m not jealous of not being your incubator, Gojo.”

“Harsh!” he dramatically clutches over his heart, sucking in a breath like he’d been stabbed, “What happened to first name privileges?”

“Revoked,” you flick his head knowing it’ll never land. Knowing he’ll never feel you.

Shoko simpers, long nails tapping against the creaky break room table. When you shoot over a quizzical glance, those nails stretch over her lips; covering so you alone can make out what she mouths: ‘jealous’. 

You mimic the motion to mouth back: ‘fuck you’.

“Hey,” Satoru wraps both arms around you (no warmth, no weight), “Secrets among friends is asking for trouble.”

“Donating out soldier serum is asking for trouble,” Shoto snickers.

“You suggested it!” 

You roll your eyes at the pair, hoping this was the last you would hear of Satoru’s semen stumper, “Well, I’d love to stick around, but you two are disgusting.”

“Boo,” Shoko wads up the shrink of her microwave meal and tosses it at your head.

“Boo!” Satoru echoes the sentiments louder, fingers clinging to your uniform until his long arms can stretch no further.

“Yeah, whatever!” you holler back, “As if the higher ups will even let you just donate!”

Those traditional old heads will want a “proper” heir, and there is no way Satoru would get suckered into that.

It’s part of why loving him is so difficult.

Because loving Satoru means having to share him: always. He is overwhelmingly busy between his work as a sorcerer and his passion as a mentor. Your love for him will forever be yours to own, but Satoru himself could never be.

Perhaps that’s what Suguru realized when he tried years ago, when Satoru was always gone and the space between them only grew. Perhaps that’s why he decided to close Satoru out completely.

“You actually gonna donate sperm?” Shoko returns her tired gaze to her friend, quirking a brow when he laughs and shakes out his phone.

“Nah, the geezers just keep pestering me,” he mimics a flapping mouth with his hand, “Blah, blah spreading the genes- blah, blah good of the clan. As if they care about the good of the clan.”

“They might,” she snorts, clapping a hand over her mouth to hide a grin.

Both of them know full well otherwise.

“I’m just gonna tell them,” he re-pockets his phone, purposefully ignoring the buzzing call of Gakuganji, “Face to face this time, so they can’t ignore it.”

“Ooh, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“What’re you gonna say, big man?”

Satoru smiles bright, all cocky and sure and cool, “‘There is no way that you bags of bones will ever convince me to have kids.’”

. . .

A cold, soaked cotton pad is swiped over the triangle of your inner elbow, disinfecting the area before introducing a syringe.

You once asked Satoru why he bothered remaining a sorcerer under Jujutsu Tech when he obviously hates the higher-ups. His response, of course, was lackluster and chock full of holes (“Nobody else can do what I do,” he rolls his hand laxly, “Also, it's the only thing that doesn’t make me so bored I contemplate blowing my brains out.”).

You remember rolling your eyes with a single word reply, deeply unimpressed with his typical lack of tact (“Inspiring.”). Similarly, you remember thinking that you wanted to stay by his side, despite his annoying insensitivity.

When you got the panicked call from Shoko, you considered it a test. The universe cruelly examining your dedication. Ever the fool, you sped for the address she spat over the phone to prove yourself.

Now, you can’t even have the shame of reconsideration.

The bedroom has a camera in the far right corner, on the wall opposite a large observation mirror. Men in white coats pace back and forth, scribbling notes and judging every exact twinge in Satoru’s muscles. Satoru is positioned on a king bed with white sheets, hands latched behind his back in solid shackles with a radiant lock.

“He’s not hurt, right?”

“No,” the lead man steadies a needle to the sterilized juncture, “We never want to hurt Gojo,” his eyes flick up to the pinch in your face as the needle punctures your skin, “Or you.”

“He looks miserable…”

Three doctors turn to you, glaring. The man administering a blue, gluey serum into your veins sighs loudly, “Yes, well… you will be, too…”

The doctor folding your discarded clothes on the left scoffs, shaking his head.

Sometimes you spend so much time with Satoru that you forget how mean men can be.

“It should begin taking effect in just minutes,” the man steps back, letting one of his many assistants undo your tethers, “Mostly an additive,” he clarifies, “You don’t really need it, your stamina doesn’t matter much to us here. You can head in for him now.”

Your stamina may not matter to them, but you’d personally like to be awake as long as possible for this.

“Did you tell him it was me?”

Your question is ignored. So you step through the men and creep into the other room. Casting a curious glance over your shoulder to confirm the study window only reflects yourself. And Satoru.

Satoru.

Satoru.

The name is saccharine sweet in your mind. His head twists in your direction, blindfold gone and eyes comically wide. His eyes are dimmer than usual, though that isn’t very surprising when you were explicitly told the drug dampened cursed energy.

Your eyes rake over his body -- red and writhing and naked. Satoru’s gaze falls from your face to your chest to between your thighs, eyes widening further. You know he’s had partners before (lots of them, in fact), so the shock is unwarranted. Unless, of course, it’s because it’s you and not the random woman from a high up clan he assumed it’d be.

A stern voice breaks out from the far right corner of the room.

“He is willing.”

You gnaw your bottom lip anxiously, squinting through harsh overhead lights to the two-way mirror over your shoulder. Then, your eyes return to Satoru, knelt on the mattress and bare -sans the stocks cuffed around his wrist.

“Satoru…?” your face boils, gut fairing no better. Veins direct gutters for the goopy blue in your system, and it's pumping fast.

He copies your quiet, uttering your name through the still observation room, “You?”

“Is it…” you crawl onto the bed, convinced that his skin on yours could cure the overwhelming swelter in the room, “Am I okay?”

He nods limply, hair falling into crystalline eyes, “It’s you.”

Bright fluorescents dim to a more bearable, faint glow. Swallowing the last of your reservations with the swell in your throat, you turn your back to Satoru -- both knees firm on the plush mattress. 

Though his chest beats in sporadic, panicked breaths, Satoru’s lean hips are still -- perfect for reaching between your thighs and grasping his stood cock. He clenches his angel eyes shut to your flesh, but the waves and dips of your cursed energy stubbornly persist in his vision. He sees the wavering as your lust grows, he knows his is the same. Worse, even. So swallowed up in his belly by enforced desire that a stable flow is impossible to maintain.

Satoru is easy in your grasp, slipping inside you with whimpered pleas and huffs. You curve him into you, backing onto Satoru until your soft flesh is flush with his. Heat tickles up your spine, chilling at your neck and causing a rabid shiver all down your shoulders. 

Leaning forward onto your elbows, you slip over Satoru’s cock -- sliding along him with manufactured fervor (if you focus hard enough, you can still feel the needle incision stretch in your arm). 

The stocks rattle as Satoru jerks forward with a thick groan, hips now eager to pap, pap pap! onto yours. Bonds creak, splinters wailing in protest of his strength as he claws out to reach you. Satoru throws his head back, every sensitive nerve set ablaze just by the warmth and squeeze of your cunt.

His shortburst thrusts don’t dig far enough even though you’re kissing hips every time -- he feels overstimulated and yet unfulfilled. He needs to have both hands bound on your hips -squeezing the flesh on your bones and flipping and bending and making you keen under his lithe fingers.

He cannot discern if the need is driven by drooly chemical injection or longstanding affection, and he isn’t bothering himself with the question now. 

“Wanna touch,” he mumbles pathetically, red in the face and sweat beading down his forehead, white bangs slick to the skin, “Need it…” he gasps as you arch, stretching one of your legs to curl around his thigh, “Need to touch!"

As if spontaneously occurring to the crew that Satoru is pleading with them, the leading man jingles over with his key. He looks at the sedation team for extra assurance before unlocking Satoru’s stocks. 

Once the bonds clatter to the floor, Satoru is raking his nails across your body -- thighs, stomach, back, anywhere he can reach he’s eagerly clawing. Pulling and pushing before he collapses over you, his chest scorching your back. He stretches his neck to press his cheek to yours, lips loose and babbling,

“So good, so good, love how you feel -- wanna fuck you,” his brain must be falling through his lips because he seems to forget he’s already fucking you, “Wanna fuck you, wanna fuck you, wanna fuck you,” he lays sloppy kisses over your shoulder, teething at the sensitive bone, “Gonna let me cum in you, pretty girl? Yeah? Gonna make me a daddy, yeah?”

Hanging one arm below, he swirls the soft pads of his fingers over your clit -- soaked with the syrup his cock fucks free. His large hand expands over the pouch of your tummy to snugly press his thumb into your doughy skin; thumping where he’s battering your insides.

“Feel me there, mama? S’wet ‘n’ desperate, you want me bad,” he giggles deliriously, humping at your sex in plasticine frenzy before twitching to completion.

Satoru thinks he could go all day.

Thick arms tied around your waist, keeping your chest bare to his with both knees crimped over Satoru’s shoulders. His overconfidence proves itself as he thrusts up into you, lips pressing wetly onto yours while drooling out affectionate slurs,

“Best girl, pretty and hot and so fuckin’ wet for me, aren’t you? You love me, sweet girl? I think you do- know you do.”

Satoru stills only when more cum is pumped into your womb, pitiful mewls bobbing the apple of his throat.

You’re nodding with a heavy crown, forehead thumping into his sweaty collarbones and biting cresents in his biceps with your nails, “Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh - love you, ‘Toru! Love you so much…!”

Nuzzling along your flaming cheek, Satoru wriggles you loose just to flip you around to kneel in the sheets.

“I’m tired,” he muses, fingers dancing in the baby hairs at the base of your neck, “How about you do something, princess?”

You groan and pout, but don’t disobey.

Your knees are tingling and arms shaking as you twist to nestle against Satoru. Stretching back, you splay your palms over his broad chest to balance over his standing cock; then reach between your spread legs to grasp his erection. Skin soft and warm in your palm, he whimpers at the contact and throws his head back into the plush white pillow. Snowy hair tousled against the case, hips twitching up in you.

His cock bumps against your clit in his desperation and the sensation makes you clamp your knees around his waist tighter. You’re all heavy breaths and whines by the time you finally sink base-down. His cock feels hot and thick inside you, you’re not sure if it's all the eyes or whatever they stuck in your arm or the fact you’re with Satoru but your entire body is simmering.

Satoru’s hands unwind from the sheets to cling around your hips, forcefully rocking you down on him: as if to grind both your bones into paste. Cool air catches in the back of his swollen throat, your cunt wet and swallowing him back in as he tries slipping out. He lifts his head -jaw limping open and drool pooling around his raw-bitten lips- just to watch as he lifts and drops you over his cock.

Clumsily, he jerks his knees up and feet flat on the bed as the lava scorching through his veins inspires him to fuck you faster. Sweat beading and swamping all along his hairline and joints, leaving his skin sticky and sucking against yours with every thrust. Satoru’s fingers squeeze harshly around the fat of your hips, marking the skin with plum stains in the shape of his hand. If a baby isn’t enough, then these bruises surely will be bountiful evidence of your tryst.

Suddenly, Satoru sits up fully, lips pressing into your shoulder before he stabs into bone and flesh with his teeth. His arms swiftly move to curl around your waist, flushing your back to his chest as he pumps into you. One of his hands finds your breast, squishing the swells by the handful, and the other hand swooping to toy with your clit. He works slow circles into quicker swishes, thrusts speeding as the heat climbs and climbs from where he’s inside you up to your necks. Suffocating. Enveloping. 

Ragged breaths pull with terrible effort from both you and Satoru. Wet slaps of skin and syrupy squelching echoing in the otherwise still room. Oddly, the sound is far from grotesque, instead spurring another sweetened gush around Satoru. The dirty, primal nature far overshadows the lurking men in white coats around the edges of the room.

You can almost pretend you’re wrapped around Satoru for real pleasure rather than duty.

Again, Satoru sloppily mouths at your skin, from the bend in your shoulder along your neck and unto the softness of your jaw. Arms clenching around your waist until you’re practically immobile in his embrace, bouncing along his cock only because he puppeteers you to do so. 

Satoru moans hotly against the slope of your neck, licking the sweat off your skin just because he can. You lean into the coolness of Satoru’s tongue as your gut swirls and tightens before you’re seizing in the man’s grasp. His gaping mouth is pressed against your collarbone, slobber inking across your tit and down your arm. He hugs you tighter and soaks in full the clench of your orgasm, continuing to lathe his fingers over your clit until you’re jerking and huffing in overstimulation.

You think you hear him muttering (you hope you hear him muttering), “Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

The unbearable heat is replaced by normal, merely uncomfortable heat. Satoru cuddles you against him still as he plugs you with his cum.

Soft murmurs float back into your ears, men stretching necks to gaze at the both of you and whisper amongst themselves. Satoru lazily drags the sheets high over your chest and settles back against the steely headboard. 

He yelps, back arching and eyes wide, sitting upright from the board.

“What…?” you groan, exhaustion overtaking you -- limbs numb and strewn out uselessly.

“It’s cold,” he grumbles into your ear, yawning and laying against the metal headboard again (this time prepared for the stinging temperature change), “Be nice to me.”

Weakly, you make a sound of protest from the back of your throat. Brain too fried to form words.

Satoru caresses his fingers gently over your stomach, gaze fluttering to the labcoats stiffly remaining in the room. They put much effort into avoiding his stare, heads kept low and ducking behind their collars. Rolling onto his side, Satoru keeps you caged in his arms while shielding you from the mens’ stares. 

He soothes his nails along the bulb of your cheek, six eyes searing through every layer of skin and muscle down to the beating of your heart. He knows, of course, that it beats for him.

Which makes him feel sick, beneath exasperated euphoria, because he knows why you’re here.

He knows the only way to give it back is with a baby neither of you really want.

[shierakqiyas]

EXPLORING THE PARALLELS BETWEEN DAENERYS TARGARYEN AND ELIZABETH I OF ENGLAND

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth are the last descendants of their dynasties (House Targaryen & House Tudor)

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth are daughters of tyrant Kings (Aerys Targaryen & Henry VIII)

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth are the third in the line of succession to the throne which make them unlikely heirs but the unpredictable deaths of their respective siblings made them rise to power and becoming Queens regnant that ruled in their own rights.

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth are preyed upon by their guardians. ( Jorah mormont is dany's sworn protector/knight and Thomas seymour is elizabeth's stepfather)

He should not be doing this. I am his queen, not his woman. (...) It was a long kiss, though how long Dany could not have said. When it ended, Ser Jorah let go of her, and she took a quick step backward. “You… you should not have…”

—Dany, A storm of swords

Seymour’s own behaviour was not calculated to make this seem unlikely, for he treated Elizabeth in a boisterous way that was too tinged with sexuality to be dismissed as playfulness pure and simple. He liked to engage the teenage girl in suggestive banter, coming into her bedchamber before she was fully dressed so that he could “bid her good morrow and ask her how she did, and strike her upon the back or on the buttocks familiarly”. If he found her still in bed, “he would put open the curtains and … make as though he would come at her”, forcing Elizabeth to burrow helplessly under the bedclothes. “One morning he strave to have kissed her in her bed”, which even Mrs Ashley thought was going too far, and she “bade him go away for shame”. Mrs Ashley’s presence ensured that these sessions could not get too out of hand, nor was Elizabeth herself an altogether willing victim. She was able to outwit the Lord Admiral by rising earlier than usual, so that when Seymour entered he found her up and dressed, and demurely absorbed in study.

—Queen Elizabeth I by Anne Somerset

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth are polyglots. their abilities to speak many languages allowed them to converse easily with people from various backgrounds that visited their courts.

Reznak and Skahaz waited atop the marble steps. “Great queen,” declared Reznak mo Reznak, “you are so radiant today I fear to look on you.” The seneschal wore a tokar of maroon silk with a golden fringe. A small, damp man, he smelled as if he had bathed in perfume and spoke a bastard form of High Valyrian, much corrupted and flavored with a thick Ghiscari growl.

“You are kind to say so,” Dany answered, in the same tongue.

—Dany, A dance with dragons

(..) While her mastery of so many languages later assisted her conduct of diplomacy by enabling her to converse with foreign ambassadors,

She (Elizabeth) did not see language simply as a means of communication but as an artistic medium, and it was this that inspired the singular cadences and ornate phraseology of her mature speech.

—Queen Elizabeth I by Anne Somerset

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth's take great joy in riding horses

Dany rode fearlessly, and the joy and the danger of it were a song in her heart.

Dany thought of her only as the silver. She had never loved anything so much.

—Dany,A game of thrones

She was an excellent rider, and had such a good seat on a horse that in February 1560 the Spanish ambassador reported admiringly, “The Queen rides out every day into the country on a Neapolitan courser or jennet … She makes a brave show, and bears herself gallantly”.

—Queen Elizabeth I by Anne Somerset

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth sought by many marriage suitors because of their power and high status

Both Daenerys & Elizabeth have secret lovers, Daenerys take Daario as a lover just like Elizabeth I (assumed by historians) take Robert Dudley as her secret lover. because Daario and Robert are too lowborn, their close relationships with Daenerys & Elizabeth faced with disapproval and scrutiny from people in the queens's courts.

The old knight neither liked nor trusted Daario, she knew. Even so, he had answered gallantly. "There is no woman more lovely than Your Grace. Only a blind man could believe otherwise, and Daario Naharis was not blind."

—Dany, A dance with dragons

When Kat, with her usual impetuosity, again urged that, whatever the facts of the case, the damage to her reputation could even lead to civil war, Elizabeth - emotional now - refused an appeal that she see less of Robert. She needed him, she said, because 'in this world she had so much sorrow and tribulation and so little joy'. To some of the foreign ambassadors, this was indeed becoming a scandal that could even topple Elizabeth from the throne.

—Elizabeth and Leicester: The Truth about the Virgin Queen and the Man She Loved.

daenerys art credit to :

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Realized upon that hometown events' guest characters are those who are close with SSR card main characters. And I'm not saying because they are family or close friends.

Jamil - They could picked either of Jamil's parents yet decided upon Najma. Why? Because he and his parents' relationship are complicated and Najma is someone that he is close to the most and can be himself without worried about hierarchy. They even have typically sibling relationship where Najma mess with him but never outright cruel to him. (Love how she stole the shawarma)

Epel - Well Epel is a family man and he is close with each of the family relatives. I'm sure the reason it's Marja is because she is involved with the sled competition more than his family even looks like her the most (once he gets old). I mean it's hilarious how Idia fangirls Marja because she is inspiration of his favorite character.

Leona - they could have picked Farena since Cheka was already present but they picked Kifaji which is surprising given the last two are family members yet the guest character is the Twisted version of Zazu (but still interesting to have another twisted version of a Disney character). The reason is probably because he isn't close with Farena despite his brother caring about Leona that much but knowing his overblot backstory, he despise him since he is the heir and how people praise him while they badmouthed Leona. While Kifaji and Leona aren't really close, he is one of the few that Kifaji treated him well without discriminating him especially from the chess game. Kifaji is basically like a parent or an uncle to Leona and given Leona's family issues, he is close to someone than any of his family.

Deuce - knowing well about what he said about his mother, it's obvious that his mother is the guest character. Not to mentioned, the only person he is close to the most. Since he left the gang to leave a better life and how he treated everyone disrespectful and no known relatives except for his grandmother, his mother is closest person he has and how he'll do everything for his mother.

Vil - so far one of the two overblot boys (with Azul being the other one) are the ones without family problems (Idia seems to have caring parents but the family business is complicated for chapter 6 and 7 reasons). Obviously Vil will have his own father be the guest character because he is a great dad to Vil who doesn't abuse nor neglect him. Vil even talks proudly about his father.

So based on that, it's not just relationship towards the SSR but also how they are close to one another without ill-intentions nor trauma. So I have feeling the next hometown events will be similar to which the SSR closest to be the guest character.

Like for example, Azul's guest character could be his mother because he proudly talks about his mother and how he is happy that he married her divorce lawyer. I can picture tweels' guest character to be either their parents.

Now the only issues on who is closest to are the Lilia, Silver, Riddle's, Shroud brothers', and Malleus'.

Lilia and Silver are eachother's relatives and doesn't seem to have anyone they talk to outside of the family (Baul and Zigvolt don't really count especially when Baul ready debuted and felt they would be Sebek's guest characters). We already seen through the Shroud's parents and I doubt that Idia has someone close and Ortho is extroverted but I'm not sure what their hometown is like besides Styx. Do they have other children or anyone close to?

Malleus's family is complicated and we know about Senate. So he would likely have his grandmother.

Riddle for obvious reasons...

So this is just my speculation.

I believe it has been stated that the manga intentionally blacks out the face of Mrs. Rosehearts because she is viewed as the source of Riddle’s trauma. It keeps her in this shadowy, untouchable status and maintains the idea that the darkness of the past still impacts us in present day. I anticipate that this will hold and become the pattern for each OB boy’s flashback sequences. (We’ll soon see!)

If that’s the case for the manga, then it makes sense for the game to do something similar by purposefully keeping the faces of figures who play a significant role in each OB boy’s trauma a secret. That means likely no Mrs. Rosehearts, similar to how we did not meet the Viper parents in A Firelit Sky nor Farena/Falena in Tamashina Mina. However, some parents are clearly still fair game since they do have a good relationship with their son (Mrs. Ashengrotto and Azul, for example.). We see an example of this with Eric Venue showing up in Tapis Rouge.

It makes sense to meet family members whom the SSR boy has a good relationship with; running into a family member that stresses them out would kill the fun and easygoing vibes of the hometown event and would instead present an interpersonal issue that runs too deep to be resolved in a satisfying way before the event’s conclusion. Imagine a hometown event in which we have to stay over in Riddle’s home and we witness his parents fighting?? 😔 I don’t think that’s something that could be “fixed” in like 5 parts… Of course, not every family is perfect and that’s valid. It’s just not the scope or the perspective that TWST hometown events want or are equipped to deal with.

I feel like any of the Ocatrio’s family are pretty fair game? Despite how sketchy they are, Azul, Floyd, and Jade seem to be on good terms with all of their family members (well, maybe excluding Azul’s biological father) and learned many important things from them. I am, once again, asking TWST for a Coral Sea hometown event… 🤚 ✋ *holds out hands*

I’m sure that the characters who don’t have obvious family members to meet/yet to be revealed will have some other substitution? Probably a new character that’s twisted from another Disney character (similar to Kifaji). Maybe we’ll see a new noble fae that Lilia knows, Silver’s guardian fae that blessed him at birth, or prominent STYX staff (like maybe twisted Pain or Panic?).

For Malleus, his only living relative is his grandmother, sooo… I guess he’ll introduce us to the reigning monarch if he’s the SSR of a Briar Valley hometown event 😂 Malleus does what Leona won’t…

[nekropsii]

I'm sorry to bother with my ask, but you are the most trustworthy mituna/ alpha trolls writer and I need to hear your thoughts.

How do you think mituna Pre-game life has been based on his classpect? Heirs usually have a certain privilege over the aspect they inherit, they dont have to work hard like a page to get it, however they either dont know what to do with it or the aspect get to take control of the heir. Do you think Tuna got to live a more comfortable life for beforus standards? How would the doom manifest in him? John became wind, equius became irrelevant, pehaps mituna great act of heroism was doom taking control of him instead of him learning how to take control of doom.

We actually can infer quite a bit about this. He was Cassandra. The logical conclusion is to keep adapting the Cassandra myth, and to assume his Doom is being Cassandra.

Mituna was an incredibly powerful psionic and basically an oracle. In the game, he knew whenever something bad was going to happen, and tried desperately to tell people. They never listened. I wouldn’t say his story follows 1:1 with that of Cassandra’s, where his Doom Vision was granted to him by an Apollo figure… But it’s pretty damn close, and I’d have to assume part of why they never listened was because he still got Apollo’s subsequent curse - to see the future, but never be believed. Considering this is a destruction of others’s belief, and the curse came as a punishment for Cassandra telling Apollo she doesn’t want to date or have sex with him… We already know who the Alpha Trolls’s Apollo figure is. It’s Cronus, Bard of Hope. Destroyer of Beliefs, and Known Sex Criminal. Due to the severity of the abuse he inflicts upon Mituna on screen - the violent bigotry and insults, the blatant disregard for his clear, desperate, repeated exclamations of his lack of consent, the molestation - we must also assume he fulfills the role of Ajax the Lesser as well.

Following this train of thought is the idea that people would actually readily listen to Mituna’s advice on Beforus. If he told someone to cut shit out, they’d listen to him. He likely didn’t have all that much mysticism surrounding him, considering he entered his SGRUB session at 13 years of age - it likely would’ve manifested in the same way Jade’s friends listen to her because she tends to be right about everything, inexplicably. They think it’s weird he can do that, but just shrug their shoulders, puzzle about it, or think he’s cooler for it.

Although he was an able-bodied male and carries an extremely useful ability, he was still a Goldblood, so his life was not privileged. He was pretty high on the Culling block, with him actually likely being specifically sought after due to his unique ability. Perhaps he evaded this through means of reclusion.

Getting culled might, theoretically, adopt you into the potential for wealth of a Highblood, but your autonomy is still getting stripped away from you quite violently. You are a trophy. You show wealth and status. You’re a novelty toy. You’re shown off like a cool knickknack, as if you’re not a person with a life and feelings. Everything is decided for you - what you wear, where you can go, what symptoms you’re allowed to have and express, what you eat, etc. - your control of your own life harshly limited to the whims of the Highblood. You are a foster child in middle class white suburbia, and your life is hell.

So, his life before the game was theoretically not as bad as it was in and after the game. He had yet to meet his combination of Apollo and Ajax the Lesser. He had yet to sacrifice himself for people who he called friends, yet who discarded him the second he stopped being what they wanted. He had yet to get locked with these people for eternity, still never listened to. But it still sucked. He’s an Heir of Doom, and a Lowblood on Beforus. It all still sucked.

[mikobeautifulheart]

Intervention

Sukuna x reader

Mentions of kidnapping ig and arranged marriage.

like 700 wordsish (Correct me if u want idc)

NOT EDITED

Synopsis: You were going to go get married off to the Gojo clans strongest, how ever you disappear when your marriage is announced. The only clue anyone has to your disappearance is the monster lurking in the near by woods.

(Set in medieval times with Sukuna's true form)

You sat before your parents respectfully as you were taught, these times were so unfair to a woman.

You were just told that you were going to be married off to the Gojo clans heir and that its an honor to be his wife.

In all honesty, you didn't care. Since the day you were conscious you were reminded not to get attached to anyone because in the end you would always be married off in the end with no say.

You did remember those days where you didn't bother as much with life, the ones where you snuck out and hid in the woods not to far from your family's estate. You went there because no one would go look for you there.

There was a rumor around that there was a beast, a hideous killer hiding out in those woods, one with blood red eyes and a violent nature. You were convinced that it was just another way of scaring kids out of the woods so they wouldn't run away or play in the woods anymore so it never stopped you.

Offten you would get fed up in the day and escaoe in the night, crying silently as you ran into the woods. This was almost every night as a child because of the harsh reality hitting you.

Learning that you couldn't play with other kids because of their status? Crying in the woods.

Being taught hard complicated etiquette lessons as a child? Woods.

Brothers getting better treatment AND getting acknowledged at dinner? Woods.

You learned that the world was unfair and that it would stay that way. Would it?

The night when you were told you had an arranged marriage you thought you would handle the inevitable news fine, but something in your heart throbbed. Something about not even knowing the man you were to marry killed you. You slowly walked into the woods trying to keep your eyes clear so you wouldn't trip over something.

"How do you even marry a man you don't know?" You hicced before stopping at a rock in the middle of the woods and breaking down on it.

"I though I would be okay." You said not even trying to wipe your tears anymore.

The woods were silent until you heard an abnormally loud crash, a whole tree had crashed to the ground. Your head peaked up from your curled up body. In sheer disbelief you saw a tree cut at the stump and something, someone, standing behind it.

You stared waiting for it to move, as it stood still you noticed that it had 4 piercing red eyes and four arms as well as its abnormally large frame.

A chill ran down your spine. This was the monster that they warned you about all those years ago, it really wasn't a myth. Looking at it now you could say they even down played it.

Not even willing to stay any more you slowly turned your back to it and ran off the rock. You tried to munover yourself between all the trees but the forest was to dense. You heard swift wind cutting noises behind you speeding up and it made your adrenaline kick in.

You started to push through the smaller trees and shrubbery but they just ended up slowing you down, you went to finally reach the dirt path out but your foot got hooked on a log.

Just before your face hit the ground you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist and hold you up above the ground.

You opened your mouth to scream for help but a large hand covered it. You struggled tirelessly kicking and muffled screams but it was no use.

"Shush brat, I can help you." A low voice practically growled into your ear. You tried to turn your head away but the hands grip was to strong.

"All you have to do is close those pretty eyes of yours and all your problems will go away." This only made your eyes widen, what could he mean? Was he going to kill you? Rip you to shreds and eat your raw body? Torture you to death?

You struggled even harder but still, no use.

"I said I can help you, are you even listening?" It growled.

You only let out muffled sounds, digging your nails into his arm. He didn't even notice.

"You'll thank me later." He said before he started to carry you away.

Half way there you gave up on escaping but that didn't mean you weren't afraid.

You came to a hult abs saw a large shrine like place that you were being taken into. You were more amazed at this point, you were never told what was in the forest let alone what structures hid in the trees.

As soon as he walked under the large gate the strong smell of blood, it was so strong it almost made you gag.

The crunching of bones under his steps were sickening, but it just made him smile even wider.

Eventually he carried you inside where he dropped his hand and practically dropped you, the sheer size of his torso was inhuman.

"Wha-what do you want from me?!" You said moving away from him.

"I'm sure I don't taste good, I mean I'm like old, 20 is pretty old"

"And I'm 530 years old, I'm sure your blood is delicious."

Your eyes went white. Were you actually going to die here? No way in hell were you going to let that happen. But what if you went back? Would you still be married off?

"Why were you so loud today, you usually don't cry that much."

You froze, usually? What dose he mean usually? How long had he watched you?

"I-I didn't want to be married off..." You said.

"I dont even know the man so how can I marry him?" You looked at the mosters face.

Forget it this was not the time, you needed an escape.

"Then don't marry him." He said stepping toward you.

"You-are you serious? You just took me! You kidnapped me and I don't even know you either!" You said walking backwards until you were stopped by a wall.

"Now thats not true, I'm sure the towns people have talked about me." He said with a smirk.

"Yes, that you're a cold blooded killer and cannibal!" You jumped as he put his 4 arms either side of you.

You ducked down and ran past him deeper into his estate. You didn't even know where you were running you just stopped when your lungs felt life they were going to crush.

The strong smell of blood made you fell like you were going to throw up. You put your hand over your mouth to stop yourself before you looked up and saw a pile of bones. Lots of bones. Some of them still had flesh on them and were dripping blood.

Your eyes widened when you looked down at your feet and saw a human arm before your eyes trailed closer into the pile barely just spotting a human face under the bones.

You were about to focuse you attention on the body infront of you before a large hand covered your eyes.

"You weren't supposed to see that" he said in an almost sympathetic tone.

He stood still as he felt warm tears touch his hand.

You removed your shakey hand from your mouth.

"I-I don't want to die" You said unable to stop yourself. This-thing that took you is a murderer, everything they said was true. You were sure he was going to kill you, eat the flesh off of your very bones.

Thinking that this was it you made little attempt to come to peace with yourself.

"I should have just got married off. At least I could pretend to be happy."

The room was silent, all you could hear was the blood dripping. You felt your body being picked up and carried out of the room, but a hand still blocked your view. As if it mattered, you didn't really want to see how you died or know when it happened.

You felt your body being lowered on something soft before there was a sinking feeling on both of your sides. The hand moved off your face slowly to reveal just a tiered you. The tears weren't sad, they were frustrated and now you had no reason to cry as it came to an end.

"You don't have to pretend. Tell me what you want, i'll give it to you, i'll make you happy" The large body said as it hovered over your own.

You tried to cover your face with your arm but his hand held it away.

"I just want to be happy, I just want to be free." You said feeling the tears falling again.

"I can't set you free." He sighed

"But I can try make you happy, you just need to stay here forever."

It was a long shot but you already knew there was no escaping.

You just looked up at him and nodded ad he wiped your tears away with one hand.

"Fine, I'll stay."

It's not like you had anything to lose anyway.

THANK YOU FOR READINGGGGGG ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: I hate how its only good at the end, maybe that means I need a part 2. Well...yeah. Have a good what ever time.

[umalvie]

it would be really easy to claim that azula's fatal flaw is her inability to understand love, and the show definitely wants us to believe that given her breakdown, but i think it's a serious oversimplification of her relationship with love.

azula was not shown real, meaningful love as a child. i'm not saying no one loved her period; i very much believe ursa did love her, but she failed to make azula feel loved. my exact opinion on that is frankly quite complicated, but that failure means that azula has grown up not really knowing what it feels like to be loved. however, to say azula doesn't know what love looks like at all is a lie.

ursa was actually the one to show azula what love looked like through her love for zuko. this isn't something azula particularly understands since the only form of anything resembling love (conditional and twisted as it is) that she's ever experienced was from her father in exchange for her excellence, so zuko experiencing a much kinder love from their mother despite his failures is confusing to her. but despite the love conflicting with what azula has been taught in her personal experiences, she still knew that it was love. so to azula, love is not just what ursa felt for zuko, but what she did for him. that is to say, love is sacrifice.

ursa sacrificed herself for zuko. she saved his life at the cost of her own (even if we acknowledge the comics, ursa still gave up her life and memories as she knew them to save zuko). this is the ultimate act of love, and azula knows that. she resents it. mother liked zuko better. mother loved zuko and not her. that's how she sees it because that's how it looked.

but how does that prove that azula understands love? well, it doesn't!

still, azula does something similar to their mother in bringing zuko home with his honor restored. quickly, re the idea of her doing this with ulterior motives: not only is it insane and stupid to suggest that she somehow knew the avatar wasn't actually dead and zuko was aware of this; it also doesn't make sense for her to risk both her reputation/honor in the fire nation and her safety with her father (the man who taught her that fear was the only reliable way) by lying about something so serious when she could just take zuko home as a prisoner if she doesn't love her brother.

but what is azula sacrificing for zuko by bringing him home if it doesn't kill her? aside from the obvious thing she gives up to do this (her status as the heir apparent), azula is also sacrificing her status as their father's preferred child. this might not sound that huge a deal, but this is something zuko has spent his entire life chasing after and envying azula over, and given that their father is the only person who has ever shown azula anything resembling love and the person whose approval is the most important to her, this is massive. their father's approval is the thing azula has based her self-worth on. so much of her identity comes from her pursuit of it, and just like that, azula decides to not just share it with zuko but jeopardize his "love" for her entirely. even if ozai never finds out that zuko wasn't the one who killed the avatar, even if the avatar doesn't somehow come back, azula is directly disobeying his orders by bringing zuko home. he didn't want zuko home as his heir. he wanted zuko home in a prison cell. but azula loves her brother, so she did it anyway, and she goes out of her way to keep him there.

i don't think that azula misunderstands her own motivations in bringing zuko home. she includes him in her activities with her friends, she finds him to console him (to the best of her ability), she's worried that he's angry with her, she asks him to open up to her, she advises him not to do reckless things that could get him branded a traitor, she tries to get him to tell her if they need to be worried about the avatar, and she covers up his mistakes in front of their father. she's extremely rough around the edges, but she's trying. she wants him to keep being the crown prince. she wants him to become the fire lord when their father abdicates or dies. she wants him to be home. she knows that. she acts with that in mind.

so azula knows that even fear can fail. she knows that she herself is an example of someone who does something dangerous and irrational for the sake of someone she loves. she understands what it means to love someone.

here's the catch, though: azula understands love in the context of filial piety. she's rationalized her love for her brother making her behave irrationally because he is her older brother. she's supposed to love him. if you want to see my thoughts about this see this post, but azula expects people to act within the confines of the roles they are defined by within society. in her mind, these roles are those that compose the five cardinal relationships: ruler-subject, father-son, elder brother-younger brother, husband-wife, and friend-friend. while her love for her older brother makes her act in a way that directly conflicts with the first two roles expected of her (ruler and daughter), she justifies it to herself with the piety she owes her brother. she likely refuses to examine it any further than that because to admit that she's acted against filial piety would seriously conflict with everything she's been raised up to be.

so why does she overlook the friend-friend role with others? with mai and ty lee, specifically? it's not because she doesn't understand love at all; it's because she thinks that because zuko so brazenly opposed his role as subject, son, and elder brother that he has forfeited his right to any love or loyalty from any of them (though i highly doubt that she doesn't love him anymore at this point; love is not a switch to be flipped on or off after all), so for mai to betray azula, her friend and the crown princess, as well as their country is unfathomable to azula. and for ty lee to betray her for mai, who has just opposed filial piety the same way zuko did? it just doesn't make sense.

azula understands love, but she will only allow herself to understand it through the lens of duty.

[nocasdatsgay]

Sold

Pairing: Technically Lucien/Reader | Word Count: 1739| Rating M

Summary: Beron buys you for his sons. Specifically, Lucien

Warnings: Family sells reader off to the forest house, Dubious Consent, Loss of Virginity, mildly descriptive sex. Brief physical abuse.

A/N: This is the first in a series where consorts are kept by Beron to keep his sons entertained. You are responsible for what you consume. Also IDK if anyone wants to be tagged so let me know. I am so scared of tagging people on iffy stuff that might be triggering.

Harlots of Autumn Master List | Read on AO3 |Part 1 of Harlots of Autumn

The day you were presented to the court during a ball as an eligible female, was the day that sealed your fate. You were meant to secure a husband and elevate your family’s status just like your cousins. It was harder for you, not being of the Autumn Court. That didn’t mean you couldn’t try. You had begged your aunt and uncle to take you to the next ball and begrudgingly they did. You regretted it when you were watched like an Autumn Hawk by five of the seven Vanserra heirs.

The youngest- he was your age or possibly a little older. He seemed the least intimidating of them all. He didn’t pay you much mind, thankfully. Only chatted with you for a brief moment. You thought that was why his brothers were staring. But you still felt eyes on you as you worked the room, talking up males closer to your station than an Heir of the High Lord. You felt confident in your mingling by the end of the night. Until you went to leave and instead of immediately traveling home, you were pulled into a room by your uncle.

“The High Lord has made an offer for you.” He did not look you in the eyes.

“For me?” You frowned. Your aunt looked solemn and not meeting your gaze either. “What kind of offer?”

“You have to understand, dear. You’re getting older and with the new babe to raise- You’ll be well taken care of.” She said softly.

“I don’t understand.” You mind flashed to the way the heirs' eyes raked over you. How they sneered and watched you all night. “Am I, am I to be betrothed?”

“No. No, you won’t be married.”

You were more confused. “What did he offer you? What does he want with me?” You became more frightened the longer his silence went.

“Being an orphan and from another court, this was honestly the best choice.” Your aunt seemed to speak to herself instead of you.

“What did you do?” Your heart was racing, tears welling in your eyes.

Your uncle finally looked at you. His sadness was palpable.

“He gave us more land- more money than we know what to do with, in exchange for you. For his sons.”

“Sons?” Your were going to be sick. More tears clouded your vision. You knew exactly what that meant. “You gave me up to be a harlot? For some extra land and money?”

“You’ll be taken care of. You’ll be paid handsomely, and have your own money. You’ll be part of the court. It’s a life better than what a male of our station could ever-”

“But I will be a whore!” You cried out.

“You will be a mistress,” your uncle hissed. “This is not a brothel, you’ll be under the protection of the High Lord. You’ll still be able to see us-“

“As I would want to see you after this,” you hissed in return.

He back-handed you for it. You stumbled and cradled your cheek.

“He wants you for his youngest first,” your uncle continued, glaring at you. “You’re lucky he doesn’t want you for himself. If you’re smart you just might become the youngest son’s wife.”

“A whore never becomes a wife,” you whispered.

“This is not a debate. We will go home and pack your things. They want you back here by tomorrow afternoon.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You wondered if you could die of shame.

Walking into the Forest House the next day, your aunt made you hold your head high despite your fate. You were ushered down the halls to the infirmary to meet with the healer. Thankfully the healer was female. You were in good health. You held your breath as the female went under your skirts and checked you. You had declined male advances your whole life, waiting like a good female for a husband.

Obviously that got you far.

That evening you were led to a room and bathed by servants. The pine green dress they gave you to put on was worth more than months wages in the village, judging by the fabric. They styled your hair and you avoided looking at yourself in the mirror. More servants brought you food and then finally you were left alone. You couldn’t eat, nausea from nerves rolling your stomach. You wanted to rage; to cry. You knew your aunt and uncle didn’t love you- not when you were the cause of your mother’s death during childbirth. But you never thought they would sell you.

The door opened, jolting you from your thoughts. The kind male you spoke with briefly last night came in. He was just as lovely as the night before; dressed down in a white tunic and brown trousers. He smiled, though it didn’t reach his kind eyes. You stood and curtsied.

“Lord Lucien,” she stared at the floor.

You introduced yourself and stumbled over the title of lady. You didn’t know if you could call yourself a lady now.

“I remember,” he replied softly.

You dared to look up, your eyes meeting his sad russet ones.

“Shall we get this over with?” You glanced at the bed in the room, twisting your hands together.

Lucien scoffed. “We don’t have to do this.”

You frowned, fear flipped your stomach. “They will check me.”

“There are ways around that,” Lucien replied flippantly.

You started to panic.

“Lord Lucien, if you are as kind of a male as you seem, please allow me this comfort.” You pleaded. “I- you seem like you’d be more gentle than your brothers.” You were met with silence. “Please? I don’t want to force you but I also don’t-“ you couldn’t say it.

If he didn’t take your maidenhood, one of the other males would. You doubted they cared whether or not they hurt you badly. Lucien sighed heavily; you wonder if he was realizing the same thing.

“Promise me you will tell me if I hurt you.” You nodded. “Can I undress you?”

“Yes.” Your face heated against your will.

“Turn around. I’ll only take off your dress, then you can get on the bed.”

You inhaled deeply to calm your nerves and turned to face away from him. You heard his footsteps; he stopped behind you and gently brushed back your hair. Goosebumps cascaded down your arms, and he slowly dragged his fingers down your neck to where your dress ties started on your back.

“Oh you’re a devil,” you laughed, unable to stop yourself.

He chuckled behind you. “I want to make it good for you, is that not what you asked for?”

“I suppose I did.”

He undid the ties to your dress, the front of it falling forward. You held the fabric close to your chest instead of letting it fall out of instinct. Lucien ran a warm finger up your spine. He leaned in close and you tense your shoulders.

“Drop the dress and get on the bed.” His warm breath fanned along your ear and neck.

Reluctantly, you obliged. The bed was soft, better than the one in the place you once called home. The duvet was a forest green with white sheets underneath. You shuddered at how those sheets would be stained by the end of this. You covered your chest with your arms and sat at the head of the bed.

“Don’t be so shy,” he grinned wickedly at you as he tugged off his shirt.

Your eyes went to his chest, then downward to his trousers before quickly you looked back to his eyes. It felt like your whole face was flushed. He crawled up the bed to you and you could smell his scent sweeten with arousal. He looked like it would eat you alive, the way he grinned at you.

“Lay back, let me see you.” He groaned when you moved your arms, revealing your breasts. “You are a pretty one.”

He pushed you back and crawled over you. You were correct about his gentleness. He was so careful with you, asking you constantly if it was okay to touch you or if it hurt. Lucien coaxed you into relaxing by kissing you gently and then moving down to take your breast in his mouth. He had you squirming under him, your hips rolling against his and his hard cock in his trousers. Lucien moved down further and made you come on his tongue and fingers before he took you with his cock. Then he made you come again with him.

Good was an understatement of how you felt. You didn’t come to your senses until he moved off of you. Then you felt too naked, cold from his lack of body heat over you. You moved to get out of the bed, to grab the dress from earlier, if only to cover yourself before the healers came. You looked back at the sheets and gasped. Lucien was lying on the other side of the bed, arm over his eyes to block out the light. He lifted his arm to look at you.

“Are you all right?”

“The sheets,” you grabbed the dress off the floor to cover yourself. “They’re clean.”

”I don’t know about that. I know I broke a sweat getting that second one out of you.” Lucien grinned at you. “You were pretty wet for me too when I finally fucked you. I’m sure that’s on the sheets as well.”

“There’s no blood, Lucien,” you scowled, cheeks flushing at his blatant crudeness.

He laughed. “Females only bleed when a male doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

”But the healer-“

”Edith won’t care, I promise.” He sat up and looked over the bed for his own clothes. “Let me go get her, I’m sure she’s ready to be done with this as we are.”

Regrettably, that was the first and only time you went to bed with Lucien. You had assumed before that night that you were sent to take his own first time but Lucien was far too experienced for that to be the case. You later found out the real reason you were given to him was because of his dalliance with lesser fae. As crudely put by one of the brothers, they “assumed a high fae cunt would change his mind.”

It didn’t; and a few years later a poor female paid the price for it. You wouldn’t see Lucien again after that for another century.

[mysterycitrus]

Hiii can i ask ur thoughts abt damian... lately ive been a little obsessed and u have such a great grasp on dc canon... id love to hear what u think abt him !!!

for damian, a huge part of his motivation is (both real and imagined) disrespect. there’s this pervasive interpretation of him where he’s a swing the sword first, ask questions later kinda guy, but the truth is that he gets provoked, interprets this as someone being condescending, then acts.

tim is kind of an asshole when they first meet, and damian has no context for when he’s joking or not. dick is an adopted child, who threatens damian’s place in the hierarchy. tim put him on a list of people he specifically doesn’t trust, etc. he can definitely be very rude, absolutely, and a lot of that ties into how addresses people (“grayson” to “richard,” as an example, from his surname to his first name as dick earns his trust). he’s very rude to steph, and ironically damian is also very condescending depending on who he’s talking to, but again he has a high opinion of himself and how he should be treated by others. the biggest change is that he learns that others are also owed respect, regardless of their birthright or status.

a lot of this ties into bad faith interpretations of him as a literal feral baby, when that just isn’t reflected in canon at all. he’s talia’s kid, he was raised as literal royalty, and he does not need etiquette lessons from alfred pennyworth. he doesn’t bite people at galas, he doesn’t need help to do his math homework, and he respects u when u prove urself to him. he starts out with a very distinct black and white idea of the world, and slowly learns otherwise.

im a big fan of steph and damian’s friendship in particular, because like dick she exists in opposition to his worldview. she isn’t a wayne or an al ghul, she’s just a person who independently decided to do good. she was also mistrusted to the point where it led to her death, but she is still kind, still loving, and still motivated by empathy. the same as dick being batman, that’s confronting. she looks past what everyone else sees (the al ghul heir, a murderer, etc) and acknowledges that he’s a little kid who’s never learnt to play.

because he’s prickly, it’s easy to misinterpret his intentions. the same as bruce, even when he’s being respectful, people can assume the worst out of him. and that’s hard! he genuinely wants to do good. he has to unpack so much in his head about how to act, and what the idea of respect means in this new context. him being robin is a crucial part of that — it isn’t an insulting mantle as a placeholder for his eventual ascension into the bat, it’s simply something more.