#they’ve been invading my brain

[i-love-harryosborn-dotcom]

Your friendly neighborhood spiderman is here to remind you that

proshippers are not cool or acceptable & that not liking them does not make you an “anti”, it means you’re a (partially) normal member of society who has an awareness to your actions

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Anniversary Gift

aegon x sister!wife!reader x the bloody ben we thought we got but we’re delusional 🫠

Summary: There is a tournament in celebration of yours and Aegons wedding anniversary. A brutal young knight catches yours and Aegons attention and he has the perfect idea what to get you that he can also enjoy.

Warnings: 18+ fingering, oral(f and m receiving), penetration(p in v), unprotected bc that’s like not an option, mm, fm, mfm, public, pleasure house, drinking, swearing, decaying viserys mention, tournament so death and blood

Authors Note: i started writing this before we knew so :/, if y/n is insufferable it’s bc she’s a targtower and has no parental figure ://, i won’t have anyone deny aegon locked in this season and looks good while doing it 🫣 anyways this got out of hand and it's super wild so enjoy 🧍🏼‍♀️

Word Count: 3.5k

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

I’ve been trying to push back the army of handmaidens that have been invading our chambers for the past two hours. Gods know why I must be fussed over when all Aegon and I will be doing is sitting above everyone else and looking down on men beating each other bloody.

They have finally finished shoving pins in my hair making sure my braids are secured tightly to my scalp. Jewelry has started being added much to my displeasure. I turn my head and exhale deeply at the massive gown they’ve brought in for me to wear.

“I’m not fucking wearing that. I’m to be sitting. Find something more comfortable.” I roll my eyes walking over to find my cup of wine.

“The Queen-“ one handmaiden starts.

“My mother can wear what she pleases and I’ll do the same.” I say bringing the cup to my lips.

“Must you terrorize them?” Alicent brushes past them while offering apologetic smiles as she comes to my side.

“I’m not wearing a massive ballgown when all me and Aegon are doing is watching a stupid tourney.” I finish my cup sighing.

“I say she wears nothing.” Aegon announces as he enters our chambers.

“Don’t be such a pig in front of my maids.” I scowl at him knowing there’s a hint of a smile on my lips.

“I thought you liked when I acted like a pig.” he laughs and then snorts loudly in my face.

“Aegon!” I shout at him pushing him away from me.

“Enough you two. Aegon go finish getting dressed so y/n can do the same. Gods know what I was thinking when I had you two wed.” she sighs shaking her head.

Alicent walks over to my wardrobe and begins looking for other options. She pulls out a couple of gowns that I have yet to wear that she deems appropriate. I settle for a black dress that requires no corset thankfully. There are two slits up the side of my legs that meet at my hips to allow air flow and mobility. The sleeves trickle down my arms encasing them in silk and embroidery.

“I expect you to be in the main hall in twenty minutes. I’m going to check on Aegon and we will meet you down there.” she looks me over and nods.

The handmaids swap my jewelry for more subtle accents and offer me black sandals that strap up my legs. I can take no more of their fussing and I shoo them off and exit our chambers with a full cup of wine in hand.

“Hello daughter!” Viserys calls over to me from the chair he’s sitting in as I enter the main halls. He looks absolutely terrible today and I’m hoping the disgust isn’t written all over my face.

“Hey.” I offer raising my glass grimacing.

“How come she can keep her cup?” I hear Aegon whine as he approaches me with Alicent trailing after him.

“Because it seems no one has had the brain to take it from her.” Alicent seethes as she rips the cup out of my hand.

“Is this tourney not in celebration of us and our anniversary? We should be allowed to drink.” I roll my eyes and grab Aegons arm.

We all but stomp to our carriage in the main courtyard. The guards move out of our way so we can disappear into the enclosed space. As I’m walking up the short steps I start to feel Aegons hands creep up my legs.

“Get off of me you beast or I’ll have you tied up and dragged behind my carriage to the tourney grounds.” I turn around and scold him.

“Mm don’t threaten me so publicly. You know how I love it.” he smiles as his hands go further up. “I also know how much you love when I play with you in public.” I grab his wrist and pull him into the carriage with me slamming the doors behind of us.

“Why must you ceaselessly try to embarrass me in front of others.” I push him to the other side of the carriage.

“Oh come on, y/n. You know I jest.” he sighs and leans back. “What can I do to make it better?” he pouts from his seat.

I turn my head and cross my arms as I peek out of the windows as the carriage begins moving through the city streets. I plan to ignore him until he comes up with a solution on his own. Curse our mother for taking away our wine. I turn my head when I feel the carriage slightly shift and see he’s on his knees in front of me.

“Do you want to come before we get to the tourney?” he asks through his thick lashes. His hands gliding up my legs once more.

“Do you think you can make me come in the next 10 minutes?” I raise my eyebrow looking down at him.

Aegon disappears under my skirt and leaves sloppy kisses on my inner thighs. He grunts in approval at my lack of panties and attaches his mouth to my clit. Soft whimpers fall from my mouth and I try to hide them behind a hand so not to give Aegon the satisfaction. He spreads my legs even wider and slams two fingers into me.

“Fuck Aegon,” I cry out grinding against his mouth as my thighs try to close around his head.

He moans into my core as his fingers start a ferocious pace. I’m arching off the cushions as my legs being to shake from his skilled tongue and fingers. He curls his fingers and my body goes taught. A sob rips through me as pleasure courses through my body. Aegon pulls back and smirks up at me.

“Am I forgiven?” he asks licking his fingers clean and taking his seat across from me again.

“No.” I say as the carriage comes to a halt.

I open the doors and exit leaving Aegon to chase after me. He almost falls out of the carriage trying to reach my side before I enter the tourney grounds. He huffs in annoyance when he reaches my side and grabs my hand more firmly than necessary.

“You’re more stubborn than usual, my love.” he sneers as we start up the stairs.

“You’re more annoying than usual, my love.” I hiss back at him as we start up the stairs.

We make our way up to the royal box and take seats in the back. Alicent tries to convince us to move closer to the rails to be more easily seen but Aegon is already pulling me down next to him. She shakes her head and goes to her seat without another word.

Aegon waves down a servant and sees to it wine is brought to us. Two glasses of wine and the rest of the bottle are immediately brought to our table and left for us. I empty half of my glass and Aegon is quick to refill it once more. I breathe out deeply and relax back into the couch we’re sharing.

“Are you done with your attitude?” Aegon hums pulling me closer to him.

“Am I ever?” I smile turning to him. He captures my lips quickly and I become even more intoxicated by his kiss as he deepens it by burying his hand in my hair and molding my lips to his we care not of any spectators.

“You two shouldn’t make such a spectacle.” Aemond scoffs claiming the seat in front of us.

“This tourney is for us. I’d fuck her on the railing if that’s what she were to want.” Aegon glares at him scoffing.

“You two are animals.” Aemond looks us both over with disgust.

“You could do well with some depravity.” I hum smirking at him.

“Indeed,” Aegon chuckles shaking his head. “You can come sit up here with us.” he raises an eyebrow to Aemond.

“I will do no such thing.” his cheeks redden at our brazenness.

“Enough. All of you!” Alicent storms up the stairs her face red and scrunched with anger.

“Mother-“ Aemond starts but she’s quick to cut him off.

“No. I’ve had enough today and the sun is barely in the sky.” she says exasperated. “I don’t want to have to come up here again.” the threat clear in her voice as she turns on her heel and makes her way back to her seat.

We all remain quiet after that never wanting to push her too far. Sure she’s never been a great mother, but she was a child raising children. The tournament begins after the opening speeches are made and Aegon and I toast to the knights with the crowd before we return back to our seat.

“Why did we ever agree to this?” Aegon sighs resting his head on my shoulder.

“We didn’t.” I chuckle resting my head on his as the first knights enter the sands.

The two men clash into each other loudly and the crowds begin to roar. The duels go on for some time and soon get boring. I’m yawning until a young knight catches my attention from the wanton brutality he offers his opponents. Aegons interest seemed piqued as his eyes follow the knight up to the rails.

“I seek the Princess y/n’s favor.” the young knight announces.

My eyebrows shoot up as I process his words. I untangle myself from Aegon who’s smiling after me. I begin to saunter down the stairs and lean over the rail to get a closer look at him.

“Hello, my brave knight,” I coo down to him. “Before I offer you my favor I wish to look upon you.” I offer him a simpering smile.

“Ser Benjicot Blackwood, Ben, if it pleases you.” he removes his helm smirking and slightly lowering his head.

“The pleasure is mine, Ben.” I melt as I gaze upon his beautiful bloodied face. “You have my favor.” I sultry reply as I slide my crown of flowers down his lance.

“You honor me, Princess.” he grins up at me winking as he turns back around for his next duel. I practically skip back up the stairs to Aegon, giddy from how handsome the knight was.

“I want him.” I whisper in Aegons ear as I join him on the couch again.

“I do too.” Aegon chuckles lowly pulling me in closer.

The rest of the tourney goes by quickly. Ben was never bested and won the tournament. He claimed it was account on my favor and said he would be indebted to me. I smile down at him from the rail with pink cheeks. Aegon is at my side smiling to Ben as his arm wraps around my waist.

“You did well! You should go out and celebrate in the streets tonight, my friend!” Aegon subtly suggests to Ben.

“You honor me, my Prince.” Ben smiles and bows his head.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

After a late dinner with the family Aegon and I retire to our chambers for the night. We prepare to journey out and grab a bag full of coin. We tie our cloaks on and then slip into the tunnels within the Red Keep. We know the way perfectly and we soon are entering the most popular pleasure house to find who we seek.

“Happy anniversary to the Prince and Princess!” a man shouts from atop a table in the back.

The pleasure house erupts in cheers as the man gets down and has them make way for him to come to us. As he nears my heart begins to pound in my chest as I realize it’s Ben. He reaches for my hand and places a kiss on it and surprisingly does the same to Aegon.

“Oh I like you.” Aegon smiles darkly at Ben.

We follow him back over to his table and he kicks two of his friends out of the way for us. He eyes us curiously as we lounge back into the couch looking at him with low lids. As he stares back at us it seems as if everyone melts away. Aegons hand is resting on my bare thigh and slowly travels higher which Ben has been glancing at.

“How long have you two been wed?” Ben asks lowly licking his lips.

“Seems like forever.” Aegon lets out a breathy chuckle as his fingers slip underneath the fabric of my dress keeping eye contact with Ben.

“Should I get us a private room?” Ben rasps adjusting himself in his pants.

“In a bit. She likes to put on a show.” Aegon smirks as his fingers slide up my slit.

I let out loan whine and Ben’s eyes shoot to mine. Aegon lazily circles my clit and my thighs start to spread. He kisses my neck and begins to speed up his ministrations. My eyes shut as my hips start to grind into his hand seeking to take their own pleasure.

“Look at me, Princess.” Ben’s voice goes straight to my core and my eyes snap open and lock with his.

Aegons fingers slip into me as I bite my lip to keep from crying out. Ben’s cheeks have become more flushed as he watches me fuck myself on Aegons hand. Aegon uses his thumb to circle my clit as his fingers continue pounding into me. My thighs squeeze around his hand as I come around his fingers, whimpering as Ben looks at me with a devilish smirk. Aegon slowly removes his fingers and begins to bring them up to his mouth.

“May I, my Prince?” Ben holds out his hand for Aegons.

Ben’s hand wraps around Aegons wrist and brings his hand to his mouth. He wraps his lips around Aegons fingers and licks them clean. Aegon groans as he watches Ben clean me off of him. I watch with heavy lids at how perfectly Ben fits with us.

“Don’t be mad I did this first.” Aegon offers to me over his shoulder quickly.

Before I process his words he’s pulled Ben’s lips against his. I gasp out in surprise and watch as Ben and Aegon lose themselves to the kiss. Ben bites down on Aegons lip causing some blood to speckle on the surface. Aegon groans and pulls back with pleasure swirling in his eyes.

Ben’s eyes look to mine and before I know it his lips are upon me. I sigh out in pleasure as I taste myself and Aegons blood on his tongue. I bite down on Ben’s lip in return for Aegon and he moans into my mouth and droplets of blood appear. He kisses me more fiercely as I mold to his mouth.

Aegons hands travel up my sides and to my neck. He brushes my hair to the side and attaches his hot mouth to my pulse. Ben pulls our lips back as a trail of saliva and blood still tethers us. He looks at Aegon and me hungrily and rises.

“Let’s go somewhere a bit more secluded.” Ben smiles offering both of us hands to us.

We flow behind Ben entranced by him as he parts a curtain for us. He closes them shut behind of us and turns to us with a wicked smirk on his face. Aegon pulls me down on to the bed with him and pushes me onto my back.

I prop myself up on my elbows and see Ben starting to stalk over to us on the bed. Aegon spreads my thighs and moves my skirts to expose my dripping core. Ben’s eyes lock onto me as he wets his lips. He lowers himself on the bed and snakes his way up to my thighs.

“May I taste you, Princess?” Ben’s breath fans across my heat as he looks up to me from between my thighs.

“Please,” I whine bucking my hips up towards his face.

He quickly wraps his arms around my thighs and pulls me to his mouth. He licks at my clit feverishly causing my back to arch off the bed. Aegon pulls the top of my dress aside to expose my breasts. Whimpers are spilling from my mouth at the pleasure coursing through my body.

My fingers curl into Ben’s hair and tug as his tongue continues its vigorous assault on my clit. He groans into my core as Aegon pinches one of ny nipples particularly hard. My legs try to squeeze around Ben’s head and he chuckles lowly.

“Fuck Ben,” I cry, back arching off the bed as I come all over his face. He continues to lick at my core sending jolts through my body. Ben detaches himself from me and starts to kiss up my body and lays next to me.

“I want to see you come on his cock next.” Aegon hums rising from the bed to get a cup of wine. As he saunters back over to us with his glass Ben sits up and his hands rise up to Aegons hips pulling him between his legs.

“What about you, my Prince? Would you like some pleasure?” Ben smirks up to Aegon as pushes him back a bit so he can sink to the floor on his knees.

“Mm, how kind of you.” Aegon gazes down at him cupping his jaw.

“I’m very devout, my Prince.” Ben whispers raking his hands up Aegons legs.

“His mouth is very skilled.” I hum as the pleasure still thrums through my veins.

“I’ll decide that for myself.” Aegon declares smirking down at Ben with dark eyes.

I sit further up as I watch Ben’s fingers unlace Aegons trousers. He wasted no time freeing Aegon and gripping his hard length in his hands. Ben’s thumb swipes over Aegons red and leaking tip. Aegons groans as Ben pumps his length, teasing his tip as his fist makes its way up.

Aegons head tosses back as Ben swirls his tongue around the head of his cock. I slowly slip out of bed to come up behind Aegon and slowly kiss his neck and run my nails down his chest. Ben slowly takes Aegon in his mouth and he lets out the softest whimper. Ben starts a faster pace while holding on to Aegons thighs to steady himself. Aegon is a mess of panting and groaning as mine and Ben’s names fall from his lips.

“Fuck,” Aegons hips begin to shutter as he releases himself down Ben’s throat.

Ben slowly pulls off of Aegon causing him to whimper. Once Ben becomes eye level again Aegon pulls him into a harsh kiss. They pull apart breathlessly and then Ben quickly turns and captures my lips once more. My hands fly to his shirt and begin lifting it off. He pulls back from me as Aegon finishes removing it.

Mine and Aegons hands trail all over his body worshiping every inch. The three of us have no end or beginning as our breaths mingle as we finish undressing each other. We’re a clash of lips and teeth as all three of us tumble to the bed.

“Please, Ben,” I whine as his fingers find my wet core.

“I think the Princess wants you to fuck her.” Aegon chuckles as he begins to fondle my breasts.

“Yes, please Ben,” I beg lifting my hips up to his hand.

“I want to hear you say it.” I can hear the smirk in his voice as Ben’s lips ghost over mine.

“Please, fuck me, please,” I whine as he pulls his hand away from my core.

He sheaths himself inside of me, splitting me in two. My legs wrap around his waist as he starts pounding into me at a brutal pace. Aegon continues to grope my breasts and pinch my nipples which has my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

“You’re doing so good, Princess.” Ben grunts as he lifts one of my legs pushing into me at a deeper angle.

Aegon is whispering soft praises in my ear as his fingers continue to pinch and tease. His hand begins to slide down my torso and begins to circle around my throbbing clit. A moan rips through me as I clench down around Ben as my orgasm washes over me. I feel him begin to fill me prolonging my pleasure.

He stills inside of me and rests his forehead on mine. Aegon leans in near us and beings peppering kisses on our necks. Ben slowly pulls out as I whine at the loss. We all fall back on the bed together in a mess of limbs and heavy breathing.

“You know, me and y/n could use a new sworn protector. You could have the position if you were to want it.” Aegon offers propping himself up to look at Ben.

“It would be my honor to watch over and protect you both.” Ben looks at us with pleasure glazed eyes.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

pt2 is Sworn Protector

masterlist

[thedarkdisgrace]

I have a head canon that Chuuya & Dazai will randomly start humming a tune.

Often at the same time, even though they’re not near each other. It’s a tune neither one can place but it’s oh so familiar. A melody only they can hear & only they know. Something attuned to their souls.

They’ve never heard it anywhere aside in their own heads. But it’s comforting & warm when it invades their minds. A subtle feeling lingering in the back of their mind that suspiciously feels something like…home. Yet when they individually ask other people about it, no one’s ever heard the tune.

Neither could find anything through research either. Nothing sounds quite *right*.

Yet one day, long after their reunion, when they’re eating dinner Dazai feels the tune seep into his mind for the first time in a while. But before he even thinks about it, Chuuya starts humming the tune. Dazai snaps his head up & Chuuya looks at him questioning.

“That tune, how do you know it?”

Chuuya just shrugs, taking another bite. “I don’t know, it just came to mind”

“Do you know where it’s from?” Dazai asks, eyes narrowing, mind speeding to put together the puzzle forming in front of him.

Chuuya furrows his brows, thinking for a moment before shaking his head. “No, actually. I don’t know where I’ve heard it before”

And as Dazai always does, he starts to connect dots to dots.

Idk, it’s just something that’s been in my brain for a long time lol

Again this one is another thread from my twitter.

[pellucid-constellations]

Angstober 🎃

Prompt: "What's Wrong"

A/n: Hi surprise! I've decided to do some drabbles for angstober!! They won't be every day and it will be very informal, but I feel like this is a great opportunity for writing! I'll be making a masterlist for these drabbles soon. Enjoy!! :)

~~~

“What’s wrong?” 

His voice was broken, anguished. You were sure you’d never heard the tone before, the way the words cracked over each other and crumbled into a rasp. 

Nothing was wrong. Nothing felt wrong. 

“Please, what’s wrong?” he tried again, and somehow those words hit you harder than the first time. 

Nothing was wrong. Nothing hurt. But—you thought, as words refused to pass the parting of your lips—nothing was right either. You were stuck, immovable. You felt hands on your face, and there was still the ache that blossomed in your chest as Bucky’s voice echoed there, but there was nothing else. You couldn’t move.

You couldn’t move. 

“Baby, come on.” The hands on your face were moving in untraceable patterns, rushed and illogical. “Come on. Come on, please.” 

How did you get here? There wasn’t a clear path. You’d been alone, there had been darkness, and then there was this strange, stagnant air that refused to leave you. You’d been alone for such a long time. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you. We found you, baby. We finally fucking found you. Please snap out of this. Tell me how to help you.” 

You weren’t sure if this unbearable pain invading your lungs would be livable long term. You weren’t sure how to follow Bucky’s request. You were seeing him but you weren’t. He was talking to you but he was really talking to a brick wall. 

There was another light in the room, a door opening and more footsteps echoing in whatever chamber you had found yourself in. How long had that door been closed? Days? Weeks? Bucky would tell you if you had the capability to ask. 

“I love you so fucking much. Please. Please.” 

“Barnes, we can’t take her like that.” 

The deeper voice was alarming—recognizable but distant in your memory. You preferred the gentleness of Bucky’s tone. 

“To hell with whatever Shield expects me to do here,” Bucky seethed, eyes never leaving you. “We’ve been looking for her for over a year. You really expect me to leave my girl hooked up to this thing?” 

“She’s gone, Sergeant. No life signs reported on the scan. No activity.” 

That wasn’t true. You were hearing everything. Some part of your consciousness was still here. 

“Her heart’s beating. She’s there. Get someone. Help her,” Bucky demanded, the breath from his words on the skin of your face. He was so close and you could do nothing about it. 

“That’s all she has left. Hydra’s had her hooked up to this machine for months with no brain activity other than what they’ve created. We can’t bring her back to the tower, Barnes. She’s already gone.” 

A cry—no, a sob—reverberated against the stone walls.

No. No. You weren’t gone. You were screaming at them but no sounds were escaping you. You were here, you could feel Bucky’s lips as they trembled and pressed to your temple. What scan were they reading? It was wrong. 

“No,” Bucky denied with thick, heavy words. “No, Fury, you can’t say that. You don’t get to say that to me. I’ve made her my top priority since the moment she went missing and it’s been like pulling teeth getting help. I finally get someone to pay attention to me and you give up? No.” 

You were being compressed now. Bucky was wrapping himself around you, coveting you as if you were a possession he needed to protect. You wondered if it was due to the finality in Fury’s tone—if there was something you were missing. Something you couldn’t see.

“Barnes, there’s nothing we can do. She’d be a danger if we got her out of here.” 

Another kiss was pressed to your skin, damp this time, tears soaking into your cheek. They weren’t yours. You weren’t sure if you could cry anymore. 

“I’m not giving up on you,” Bucky whispered against your ear. More footsteps entered the room. “You’re gone, so am I.”

So much noise. 

The small, echoing chamber erupted into a cacophony of uninterpretable noises. 

And you couldn’t see, but something was wrong now. You would tell Bucky as soon as you woke up. 

[watchmegetobsessed]

SNEAKY

A/N: actually surprised this concept made it into a fic, but here we are!

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

SUMMARY: Everyone is into the hot TA that substitutes for your professor. One sneaky picture leads you to what every girl dreamed of in class.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You’ve seen him around. All you knew that he was a graduate student, very good looking, someone freshman girls always stare at and giggle when he looks their way, but your paths never actually crossed.

Right until this casual Tuesday morning when instead of seeing Professor Russell, he strolled into the room and took his spot on the podium. Every girl in your class sighed at the same time as soon as he unbuttoned his suit jacket.

“Good morning, I was asked to substitute Professor Russell, he had some last minute family issues to deal with. I’m Harry, I’m his TA and I will try my best not to make you all fall asleep,” he joked and then started his lesson.

It’s been thirty minutes since then and every female student is eagerly listening to his words, paying more attention to him than they ever did to Professor Russell. And you’re no exception.

He is good-looking if you’re only considering his appearance, handsome face, fit form, a smooth voice and those sparkling green eyes all add up to his charm. Then he tops it all with his insane knowledge, talking about ethnonationalism as if he was born reciting studies about the topic. It’s always insanely attractive when a man has a brain and the looks as well.

The group chat you have with a few other girls in the class is blowing up, messages have been flowing about Harry, some of them are taking sneaky pictures of him, but they are sitting far in the back and for the first time they wish they were in the front row with you.

KACEY: Y/N I’m begging you, take a good pic of him!!!!

WREN: Snap a whole fucking portfolio for me pls!

They’ve been begging you and it’s starting to piss you off so you finally give in.

Unlocking your phone you open the camera and try to angle it from your lap to snap him, but not make it obvious. It’s harder than you thought, because he keeps pacing back and forth, so most of the pictures come out blurry until you finally take one clear one, sending it into the group chat just for them to lose their minds.

QUINN: I’m dead, I’m framing it in my dorm room.

WREN: How is he so fucking handsome???

KACEY: I’m touching myself tonight.

You almost laugh out loud at the last text, but manage to control yourself. When you look up from your phone you catch Harry’s eyes on you as he’s talking and you swear a shiver runs down your spine from the intensity of his gaze before he looks away.

When class is over you’re circled by your friends and you rush out of the room, but glancing back one last time your eyes meet Harry’s one last time before he disappears from your view.

After that, every time you open your camera roll you end up tapping on that one photo of him, musing about how good he looked and you can’t shake off the steamy thoughts that invade your mind when you lie in bed in the evening, imagining having him next to you. You wish you heard some kind of gossip about him, so many guys are talked about around campus, how they perform in bed, but you heard nothing about Harry, the only person you’re curious about.

Friday night your roommate is adamant to get out and have a few drinks, but you’re not in the mood, mostly because she always ends up abandoning you for his ex. Somehow, she bribes you into going to the sports bar for cocktails, swearing tonight will be different.

She pays for the first round and you start to loosen up, you see lots of familiar faces around, it’s a popular place for students. There’s a football game tonight, every TV in the bar is broadcasting the game, though it doesn’t interest you that much. After two more rounds you’re definitely enjoying yourself, mingling with other students around, just having a blast after such a busy week.

You’re at the bar, waiting for your turn to order another round when someone bumps into you from behind.

“Ow, I’m sorry.” Two hands grab onto your hips to steady you and when you turn around you’re surprised to see a familiar handsome face.

“Oh my God, it’s you!” The words roll off your tongue way too easily thanks to your tipsy state, but luckily Harry doesn’t mind your blunt reaction.

“It is me, yeah,” he chuckles. “And you’re… I’m sorry, I remember you from Professor Russell’s class, but I don’t know the names yet.”

“I’m Y/N. I sat in the front row,” you hold your hand out for him that he shakes gently.

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you narrow your eyes at him curiously.

“It means that, erm, I caught you sneakily taking pictures of me.”

Your eyes grow wide and your mouth runs dry, you got caught. You weren’t as sneaky as you thought, apparently.

“I-I’m so sorry, it’s not what you think, I was just—“

“It’s fine,” he chuckles, interrupting your rambling. “I found it funny.”

You’re slightly relieved he is not holding it against you and mostly that he didn’t call you out in front of the whole class.

“God, the girls in the back were bullying me to take a picture, I was pressured into it!” you laugh.

“Oh, poor thing,” he teases you, pretending to be touched, to which you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Wow, getting a little cocky, aren’t we?”

“Only with people who pretend to be paparazzi,” he grins down at you, placing a hand onto the bar next to you, his arm now pressing against yours.

“In that case, you should be just this cocky with everyone else in that class, because I was not the only one snapping pictures.”

“For real?” he laughs nervously and you find it endearing that just a moment ago he was so confident, but now you can see his cheeks turning pink.

“Absolutely.”

“Great. There goes all my professionalism,” he exhales, shaking his head slightly.

“Oh, poor thing,” you pout at him, using his own words, which catches his attention and his eyes cut to yours, an unreadable expression on his face. “Relax, big boy,” you at his arm. “At least you had everyone’s attention the whole time, Professor Russell could never achieve that.”

The bartender finally comes up to you and you place your order along with Harry’s as you carry your conversation on. If you weren’t tipsy you would definitely freak out, ramble and act weird, but the alcohol in your system lets you keep your cool and chat with him easily.

You get so engaged that you forget about going back to your roommate, you get stuck at the bar, talking and laughing with Harry who on top of being handsome and smart is also quite funny. He truly is the whole package.

You even have a shot with him, both of you ditching the people you came with, but when it finally hits you, you realize that your roommate is in the corner with his ex, as usual and Harry’s friends are too focused on the game to notice that he’s missing.

He is definitely your type and from the way he stay close to you all evening you’re guessing he might be interested in you as well, but you wouldn’t want to overstep any boundaries, though technically he is not your teacher. He only substituted one time, he holds no power over you in the school system.

When the bartender calls out for the last round you realize how much time has passed.

“Shit, I should get going, I need to study tomorrow,” you roll your eyes.

“Where do you live?”

“Bridgeway, it’s like five minutes away from here.”

“I’ll walk you home, it really is pretty late.”

You don’t protest, just grab your jacket and head out. The cold night air hits you in the head, but you’re definitely still tipsy by the time you reach your dorm.

“Thanks for the drinks and the walk home,” you chuckle, turning to face him in front of the entrance.

You don’t want him to go, the wildest part of you just wants to grab him by the collar of his shirt and drag him into your room, but you at least want to kiss those lips you stared at for so long at class and tonight as well.

“Good night, Y/N,” he nods with a polite smile and you know if you don’t say anything, it’s all gonna end here.

“You know, I still have the picture saved on my phone.”

He arches an eyebrow at your confession and he slowly steps closer to you, keeping intense eye-contact.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, it’s really useful on lonely nights when I’m in bed.”

Sober Y/N would have never said that out loud, but drunk Y/N is shooting her shot, big time.

Harry takes his time staring back at you, his eyes lazily dragging down to your lips, your body and then back to your face. He runs his tongue across his pink lips and you’re moments away from just throwing yourself at him. But before you could lose control he speaks up, leaning so close to your ear you can feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Go to sleep, Y/N. And if you feel lonely in the morning when you’ve sobered up, call me.”

With parted lips you just stand there, watch him reach into your back pocket to grab your phone. He types his number in and then hands it back to you. You should get going, but you’re frozen from the offer he just made to you.

“Y/N, be a good girl and go to your room, will you?”

You can only nod and somehow, your legs start moving, taking you into the building. It’s a complete blur how you get to bed, but you do. When you wake up in the morning you feel like a jeep has run you over, memories from last night slowly creeping back to your mind.

Harry.

One memory hits you after the other and then you remember what happened in front of the building. Did that actually happen or did you just dream it?

Reaching for your phone you frantically open up your contacts and there it is, Harry’s number saves, proof that last conversation actually happened. Your thumb hesitantly lingers over the call button until you suddenly tap on it.

It rings a few times and you’re right about to change your mind and end the call when he finally answers, his sultry, morning voice making you throb instantly.

“Hey, still feeling lonely?”

“Very lonely,” you breathe out, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’ll text you my address. I’ll make breakfast while you get here.”

“Are we only gonna eat?”

He chuckles lowly on the other end of the call and you have to bite into your bottom lip not to moan at the sound.

“I’m hungry for more too. What about you?”

“I’m starved.”

“Great. Then better hurry.”

And then the call ends. Suddenly, you’re not even that hangover.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[swaps55]

Hi! I previously asked about Sam’s reasons for initiating with Kaidan in your multiverse fics, thank you for your answer, it was great to read and you’ve really switched back on the side of my brain that likes to analyse literature after uni killed it off lol. I was thinking more about the part where you said

‘I really wanted to push the queerplatonic nature of their relationship - have them be a lot more physically affectionate with each other, but Sam is really keen on physical touch once you give it to him, and the slow burn would have gotten a lot faster, lol’

And my brain is now filled with this AU where they’re exactly how you described them, v touchy feely with each other for a while before a sort of ‘relationship’ or kiss happens. Would you ever consider writing a multiverse fic exploring this concept? I totally get why you wouldn’t as it contradicts Sam’s nature as you said, but man, my mind is reeling with the ‘what-if’s’!!

Love your writing as always and the Cantata re-read count is now aaaatttt maybe 5/6 in the space of 6 months lol. Sending love! 🩷

That anyone cares enough to daydream about, analyze or ask about Opus is just mind blowing to me, so thank you so much for this question!!!!!

So, this may not be exactly what you're after, but I have an AU sitting on a distant backburner that is a Sam character study mashed up with the soulmate-esque idea of "I will find you in any universe."

The general gist is, Kaidan gets yanked out of a universe in which Sam never gets resurrected and the reapers are winning into a universe in which the reapers remained dormant, Sam isn't in the Alliance, and Kaidan died at BAaT. I love the questions it poses and what Sam looks like through such a different lens, but it isn't going to get written any time soon because there are too many challenges with it.

HOWEVER, the dynamic between Sam and Kaidan is different enough that I think a more queerplatonic relationship can exist. The Sam in this universe is a lot more open and free with physical affection.

I wrote a scene that got stuck in my head. It's not great, and I'm not convinced it works, but it does poke at this a little. So here you go!

~

Kaidan pads out into the living room, rubbing the bridge of his nose, sucking in a breath and letting it out slow. Only part of him is surprised to find the holo screen on, and Shepard tucked up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn.

Shepard’s insomnia appears to transcend universes.

Whatever he’s watching looks like some low budget salarian flick, with the silhouettes of a human, an info drone, and a FENRIS mech cracking jokes in the corner of the screen. Kaidan’s heart twists. Same taste in movies, too.

Kaidan almost continues onto the kitchen, not even really sure what he’s after – tea, maybe – but hesitates when he nears the couch. At the brush of their biotic fields Shepard looks up, eyebrow arching ever so slightly. Kaidan looks towards the kitchen, then back to the screen, uncertain.

It’s like looking at home through a mirror. Something he can see, but not touch.  

He circles the couch and sits down beside Shepard, who offers him the popcorn bowl without a word. Kaidan shakes his head and scooches over to leave a healthy space between them. Shepard shrugs a nonchalant shoulder and takes another handful for himself, slouching deeper into the cushions.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks.

“Something like that,” Kaidan replies.

Shepard eyes him for a moment before returning his attention to the movie. On the screen, a dozen salarians wearing wigs of human hair march catatonically across the screen.

“Are those salarians supposed to be dressed as humans, or are they supposed to be humans?” Kaidan asks after moment.

“Depends on how you look at it, I guess,” he says with a thoughtful tilt of his head. “It’s a take on invasion of the body snatchers, pod people, the like.”

“…Isn’t the point of those that you can’t tell they’ve been invaded?”

A lopsided smile tugs at his lip. “Something gets lost in the cultural translation, yeah.”

“Never understood what you see in this kind of stuff,” Kaidan says with a shake of his head.

“It’s unwatchable.”

Shepard scoffs. “There’s an art to a good B-movie. Ones like this can give you some pretty wild insight into how aliens see everyone else.” He throws a piece of popcorn in the air and catches it neatly. “I should show you Revenge of the Gun. Salarians recreated an Earth western shot-for-shot, but didn’t have a good translation for the audio. They just made up whatever they wanted. So you have a movie that was lost in translation from the start get interpreted by an alien race, then put back through a translator for non-salarians. It’s our own story twice removed through alien eyes.”

“And you love it, don’t you?”

“Are you kidding? It’s fucking incredible.”

Kaidan chuckles. On the screen, the info drone sings a jingle aimed at the director’s love of close-up reaction shots. “Well, if the bad movies are so amazing, why the snarky commentary?”

Shepard grins. “Because it’s funny.”

They lapse into silence. But it’s…comfortable. Familiar. Kaidan worries his lip, focusing on the wig-wearing salarians. “Do you not have Blasto here?”

“Blasto? Doesn’t ring a bell, and trust me, it would.”

“Blasto the Jellyfish, with a lover in every port and a gun in every tentacle.” Kaidan shakes his head. “This universe is missing out. You’d love it.”   

“Sounds like it.”

“Last I heard, it made quite a stir when they cast an elcor as Blasto’s next lover.”

Shepard snorts.

They fall silent. On screen, a struggling salarian gets shoved into an actual pod, and comes out expressionless, wearing a wig. Kaidan draws his bare feet up on the couch and rests his chin on his knees.

When was the last time he sat down and watched a movie, any movie, much less a mindless, terrible waste of time? Time had become so precious in those final months; he couldn’t afford to waste it on anything. And why? What was precious about it? What was he saving it for? What was going to be left to spend it on?

The only things he spends time on anymore are fear and bad memories.

“You ok?” Shepard asks.

“Fine.” 

“You know, if I’d been fighting a losing war to save all sentient life, lost friends, lost a partner, and lost my family, I’m betting I wouldn’t be fine.”

You weren’t, but you hid it so well.

Kaidan makes a noncommittal sound.

Shepard’s gaze rests on him, silent, shrewd, and Kaidan shifts on the couch cushion, keeping his eyes on the screen. Shepard grunts, leans forward and sets the popcorn bowl on the coffee table.

“I'm here, you know. I know it's...weird. But. You aren’t alone."

When Kaidan says nothing, Shepard shrugs, and retrieves the popcorn.

Kaidan hunches deeper into himself. How many times had he piled on couches in the ‘Yang’s lounge with the squad? How many times had he and Shepard brushed knees, thighs, dozed on each other’s shoulders? All those casual, intimate touches that were just part of the fabric of life, something he’d never seen or noticed until they were gone?

His eyes slide over to Shepard, whose attention is back on the movie. Before he can think about it any harder, he edges closer. Without a word, Shepard sets the popcorn back down and raises his arm until Kaidan curls into the crook of his side. He hooks Kaidan’s forearm with his fingers, arm a reassuring weight around his shoulders.

He’s soft, solid, warm, all the things Kaidan has lacked.

Like the fight’s gone out of him, Kaidan gives into it and lets his head come to rest against Shepard’s shoulder. A knot in his chest tightens until it’s hard to breathe, but the longer he sits, the longer he stays, it starts to loosen, the lead in his bones a little less heavy.  

They watch the movie curled together, Shepard’s hand running up and down his arm. Every now and then one of the jokes draws out a laugh. This close to him, pressed against his ribs, it’s a resonate rumble against Kaidan’s skin, felt as much as it’s heard. Sometimes he fills the silence with commentary, pointing out something about the scene or the context of the joke.

Kaidan says nothing, sometimes listening, sometimes not – either way it doesn’t seem to matter. But when Shepard’s fingers drift towards Kaidan’s hair and idly comb through it, a sigh rattles out of him, ending with a choke and a sound that says nothing but means everything.

Shepard doesn’t say a word, just lets his fingers do the talking, working Kaidan’s scalp, steady and rhythmic. Kaidan closes his eyes, but something in the air changes when Shepard’s gaze settles over him. He feels it without having to see it, like a sixth sense waking up from a long sleep.

It’s a respite. Temporary. Not something he can keep. But in that moment, for the first time in a long time, Kaidan’s heart rests.

[eds6ngel]

what about Steve and readers first time? They’ve been talking about it for a while and they find a night where Alena can go over to robins and it’s super sweet. He planned a whole lil date with candles and they have super sweet lovey sex🥺

hi my loves!! you both requested similar ideas, so i've combined them both. hope you enjoy!! ♡

warnings: SMUT. afab!reader. fem!reader. dad!steve. 90s!au. swearing. unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it kiddos!!). fingering. oral (f receiving). lil bit of nipple play. tons of kissing. creampie. love bombs. pet names. they go to pound town, but it's sweet and lovey really :') [2.5k].

full 'when i kissed the teacher' masterlist.

You had just walked inside Steve’s small apartment from an amazing evening meal. Hand in hand, Steve stops you in the middle of the kitchen, pressing a kiss to your temple and whispering to you, “Wait here.”

He zooms off to his bedroom, the thought of the reason why lingering in your mind. The both of you hadn’t had sex with each other yet, your schedules simply too busy to tackle the task. Through joint decision, you agreed you wanted to make it special. You could’ve easily sneakily fucked after Alena went to bed one night, or attempted when she was outside playing with her neighbourhood friends.

But you didn’t just want to fuck, you wanted to make love.

He rushes back, panting a little, seemingly clamouring around his bedroom as he takes your hands, putting them over your eyes as he holds onto your arms from behind. “I’ll guide you. Just follow me.”

You seem to be taking steps forward, assumingly towards the secluded corner of the house, his own private space, a place he got to decorate to his heart’s content. A spot which wasn’t covered in a child-friendly book, toy, or painting.

He pulls you back by the arms, whispering out, “Okay, now open your eyes.” As your eyelids flutter open, you had never seen Steve’s room so… homely. Candles were laid out across various surfaces, including his closet, beside table and window ledge, flickering in the moonlight. But, the main attraction was the trail of rose petals, leading from the bedroom door to the bed, decorated in a pattern in the centre of the sheets, spelling out, “I love you.”

You gasp in shock, a smile creeping onto your face, “Steve, I—” You feel the warm palms of his hands lay on your hips, arms wrapped around your waist as he nuzzles your neck, pressing a trail of soft kisses over your freckled skin. You hum at the gesture, reaching your hand back to rake through his freshly-washed hair, the silkiness soon to be disheveled. “I don’t know what to say.”

“In a good way?” he asks, continuing to litter kisses, causing you to whimper when he slightly bites down on your skin, him already knowing what the answer would be.

“Of course in a good way, baby,” you sigh out, closing your eyes as your brain reels in on the feeling of his lips tugging on your skin. “Love it so much.”

A few, small bruises had already formed by the time he had parted from your neck, the proof of your boyfriend’s pleasure marked onto you. “Good. Now…” he begins, grabbing your hands, twirling you so that you face him. He rubs his thumb over your cheek, left hand remaining on your waist, “Let me take care of you, sweet girl.”

You nod, a little too eagerly perhaps, but nonetheless true. The kisses start off sweet, passionate, full of love. The feeling of Steve’s smooth lips upon your own send the same chills up your spine as the first time you kissed. No matter how long you’d been together, it always felt special.

Before long, the kisses became more heated. Steve guides you back towards the bed, lips never leaving your own as he lays you down onto the soft mattress, tongue entering your mouth as he basks in the taste. The linger of grape from your red wine invades his senses, the sweetness fitting the atmosphere of the situation, a perfect descriptor for your caring personality.

You pull his face away from yours, cupping his left cheek as you nip at his jaw, leaving love bites of your own, knowing Steve would have a hard time covering them up for his eleven o’clock shift tomorrow morning. You hear the sounds of soft whines escaping his mouth, the noise suddenly becoming your favourite thing in the world. Nothing else could compare to the moans of pleasure escaping his throat.

From your focus on his jaw, his hands slip under the fabric of your dress, the warmness of his palms brushing over the coolness of your bare skin. Parting from his jaw, you immediately wiggle out of your dress, the action seeming the least sexy thing in your mind, but the utmost in Steve’s.

Once your dress is discarded onto the floor, Steve ravels in the gorgeousness of your two-piece lingerie. A black lace, perfectly cupping your breasts, hugging in all the right places, accentuating your waist and hips. “Jesus doll, you’re going to give me a heart attack,” he exhales, his eyes fluttering up and down your body.

You hide your face in your hands, the nickname sending butterflies straight to your stomach. “Y’like it?”

He gently removes your hands, placing a few kisses over your face. One on your forehead, one on your nose, and finally capturing your lips in his. “Very pretty, baby. Sexy, even. Beautiful. You just… You look amazing.”

Giggling, you tug that the ends of his shirt, slightly frailed from each wash it went through, as he un-buttons the first few, enough for him to easily slide the material over his head. Your eyes glisten as they take in his body. Slight faint ab-lines decorate his stomach, a section of dark, brown hair littering across his chest, broad shoulders to complete his beauty.

Your lips naturally gravitate towards his chest, placing tender pecks across the centre, trailing down to his stomach, your mouth never leaving his body. His hand glides through your hair, scrunching it as he softly moans, basking in the tenderness of your actions. And when you look up, it might’ve been the most gorgeous sight he had ever seen. The golden hue of the candles burns against the gradient of your face, eyes flickering in the honey dew light. You were perfection.

You grab at his belt, Steve too caught up in the pleasures of your kisses to notice. The sound of his belt clinking open makes him pull your hair back, leaning down and kissing you passionately, tongue entering your mouth. “I’ll do that, sweet girl. Just sit back and relax for me, ‘kay?”

Without a word, you fall back against the bedsheets, Steve reaching around to un-clasp your lace bra, tossing it into the growing pile consisting of his shirt and your dress. He delicately brushes his thumb over your hardened nipple, the tenderness making you shiver in sensitivity. Leaning down, he places small kisses to each of your boobs, swirling his tongue around your nipple before letting go with a pop. “Fuck, Steve.”

“Those pretty sounds f’me, angel?” he teases you, continuing his trail down your stomach, before wrapping his fingers underneath the sides of your panties. You nod in response, softly sighing out, “All for you, Steve. Always for you.”

“Legs up for me,” he soothingly says, you complying as he pulls your panties off, your glistening cunt now on full display.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters, pulling you slightly down towards him as he wraps his arms around your thighs. He takes one finger, sliding it through soaked folds, lifting it to his mouth and sucking off the juices he collected. He hums in content, staring you dead in the eye and seductively saying, “Think I need a better taste.”

Although, through the sexual desire, you can see he’s audibly waiting for a confirmation, to which you whine out, “Please, Steve. Put your mouth on me.”

“Good girl,” he replies, gripping your thighs tightly, as if you were to escape him. He licks a stripe directly up your cunt, your hands immediately grabbing his hair, head held back and eyes squeezed shut as you bask in the pleasures of his mouth.

If you had to compare Steve to your previous boyfriends, he definitely came out on top. From the feeling of his mouth sucking and licking on your clit, to the way he was purposely squeezing your thighs, desperate to leave a mark, you could easily decipher that he was an expert at eating pussy.

“Holy fuck,” you whine out, Steve beginning to shake his head from side to side, the wet sounds coming from your cunt sounding so incredibly lewd. You were heading towards the edge, the peak of your pleasure, Steve knowing exactly how to maximise your enjoyment, as if you had been having sex for years. He pushes his middle finger directly into your hole, curling it in just the perfect way to send you to heaven.

You loudly moan, your vision going white, legs shaking in Steve’s arms as you hear him murmur quietly in the distance, his voice seeming so far away, “That’s it, baby. So pretty for me.”

You slowly come back down to reality, your eyes opening to the sight of Steve’s face glistening in your juices, dripping down his chin as he climbs back up to you, joining you in a heartfelt kiss, the taste of yourself lingering on his tongue.

Steve lets out a giggle as he leans his head down into the crook of your shoulder, placing a delicate kiss as he mumbles, “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You join his giggling, soft sighing out with a smile, “Felt the most beautiful too.”

He leans up, his body too desperate to take the restraints any longer as he discards of his pants and boxers, his lengthy cock dripping with pre-cum, aching to be used. You’re about to sit up, reaching out as Steve places his hand on your chest, silencing you with yet another kiss. “My pretty girl. Just rest, my love. I’ve got you.”

Complying, he glides his cock up and down your folds, collecting your slick, before sliding in, both of you basking in pleasure through groans and moans. His eyebrows draw together as he hisses, gripping onto your waist as his mouth opens wide, “Fuck, y’feel so fucking good.”

From your end, there’s a slight ache, as there always is, but it soon fades into pleasure. You mewl over the feeling of his cock gliding against your walls, creating a delightful throbbing inside of you. Steve leans over you, pushing himself even deeper as he fills you to the brim, pressing his forehead against yours, whispering out, “You ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you eagerly nod, Steve pulling all the way out, before slamming back in, not worrying about the harshness of his thrust. He quickly builds up a fast and hard steady pace, the room warming up from the heated energy of your pleasure. Between kisses, Steve is grunting into your ear, his toned arms wrapped around the back of your head, cradling you towards his chest. You can’t help but dig your fingertips down his back, leaving light scratches that only you would know about.

Your arms move to his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible, Steve mumbling out, “Love you. Love you so— shit — so fucking much, baby. You were fucking made for me.”

As he sucks more hickeys into your neck, biting and nipping at your already bruised skin, you whine out between pants, “Made for you, Steve. Never letting you go. You’re all mine, ah fuck—”

And although his pace was deep and hard, there was so much love in every thrust he made. After spending so long pining after you for almost a year, here you were, in his arms, becoming intertwined with his body. The sound of your bodies slapping together juxtaposed the absolute tenderness of love he was giving to you.

Changing the angle of his hips, you feel a pleasure like no other, something your body had never experienced before. You wrap your legs around his back, somehow pulling him even deeper into you, Steve feeling the warm fanning of your breath delicately against his shoulder. The new angle allowed for his pubic hair to harshly graze across your clit, the intensity increasing by the second.

Steve can tell you are close, from the vice grip of your cunt around his cock, to your high-pitched moaning, whines becoming more light and delicate as you floated higher and higher to the peak. Babbling between sighs, you say, “Need to cum. Please let me cum, Stevie. Love you so much, please.”

The use of the nickname ‘Stevie’ makes him falter for a few seconds, his hips stuttering, trying his hardest not to cum before you would. “Yeah, let go for me, honey. Need to feel it. M’close too. C’mon, baby.”

You let out a whine into his shoulder, tears beginning to stream your cheeks as your hair sticks to your forehead. You wraps your arms tightly around his neck, fists scrunched up in a ball as you let go, your orgasm crashing over you in waves, legs shaking against the back of his waist. Steve continues to plow into you through your release, your cunt gripping him securely as his pace begins to falter.

You can’t say a word, even after your orgasm has ended, your pussy becoming sensitive as Steve blabbers out “I love you” over and over again. Your eyes remained closed, body slumped against his shoulder as you hear him groan into your ear, his cock lightly throbbing within you as you remain above the clouds. Ropes of cum stick to your inner walls, filling you to the brim as Steve cradles your head, his body shaking on top of you.

As he comes down from his high, he all but falls on top of you, body spent from absolute pleasure. He pulls your head out of his shoulder, gently caressing your cheek as your eyes remain shut. “Wakey wakey,” he jokes, a lop-sided grin spreading on your face as you sigh. You were truly spent, Steve slowly pulling out of you, a pool of cum following as he heads to the bathroom, grabbing a soft flannel and gently cleaning you up.

He adds it into the clothes pile, laying beside you as he places tender kisses along your shoulder, turning your body so that you face him. “Can I see those pretty eyes?”

You hum, fluttering open your heavy lids, your body trying its hardest to resist the action. “Hi,” you say with a giggle.

“Hi,” he replies, moving your hair from out of your face, strands sticking to your forehead, “Think I wore you out there.”

You scoot closer to him, closing your eyes once more as you bury your head into his hairy chest, mumbling out, “Need a nap now.”

He chuckles in response, pressing a kiss to your forehead, stroking the back of your head, “Okay honey, you rest up. I love you.”

And as you fade off into the unknown, you murmur out an “I love you too,” before slipping into the depths of sleepiness.

Steve hugs you tightly against his chest, feeling the absolute love, warmth and radiance emitting from you. The moonlight bathes in through the blinds, settling perfectly across your face, creating a luminous glow that reflected your emotional state. He felt lucky. Lucky that he got to spend tonight with you, treating you to the luxury of a meal, the luxury of pleasure, and the utmost luxury of making you his. You were now one, and that was the most beautiful thing he could ever have.

hope you enjoyed!! i will be closing requests for this series soon (as i want to focus on other characters for a little while) so get them in before the end of the week!! ♡

taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 @suitelif3 @clincallyonline17 @starkeylover @frostandflamesfanfic @tlclick73 @steveshairspray (if you aren't tagged like you normally are, it's because there's no specification if you are over 18 on your blog. if you are a minor, please do not interact with this spinoff in the series!!)

taglist if anyone wants to add themselves (for all characters!!)

[juniorig0327]

My brain can’t stop thinking of AUs lol (Pt. 1)

An AU where Luke just has a feral group of Demigod kids when he’s found by Grover.

Thalia, Jason, Leo, and Annabeth are just chilling with Luke.

Luke being lets just say extremely most hesitant to join Kronos because he still has three insane kids to take care of.

But ultimately he does betray camp and it’s probably right around S.o.M when they find out it was Luke who poisoned Thalia’s tree.

Luke possibly trying to recruit them + Percy who has unofficially joined Luke’s band of kids (Jason joining??)

The titans curse with both Luke and Percy trying to get their hands on the Di Angelo kids (both of them getting one in the end? Luke getting Bianca and Percy getting Nico)

Bianca like, not dying lol.

Battle of the Labyrinth, Annabeth finally getting a quest, chasing a mysterious demigod through the labyrinth and in the end, the explosion of Mt. Helens, the demigod army invading camp, Jason becoming the host for Kronos, possibly trying to revive some other titans in the same way as well with Luke and Bianca preparing to become hosts for other titans. Bianca not feeling right about joining Luke anymore and leaving after seeing her brother nearly killed by Kronos and his army.

The Last Olympian with Percy having to fight Jason, one of his first friends at camp, a reminder of innocence and how easily Percy could’ve been Jason after his mother died.

Leo finally stepping up from the sidelines with newfound courage to fight Kronos, especially after the death of Beckendorf.

Luke and Annabeth finally coming face to face properly. Annabeth facing the Titan that’s inhabiting Luke’s body, and Luke’s death (which I imagine be very similar to canon especially because he’s not Kronos host).

Bianca and Ethan coming face to face (who probably have a very interesting history). Ethan’s revenge and Bianca just wanting to save her brother.

Having a way more deadly and bloody battle of manhattan than in canon.

The death(??) of Jason and the getting together of Percy and Annabeth after the final battle finally allowed them to push through their final obstacle in the way: themselves and their grief.

The Lost Hero when Percy goes missing after all they’ve been through and Annabeth doesn’t have anybody left except Leo (and Nico to an extent). When these mysterious demigods shows up and nobody knows why.

The Son of Neptune when Percy has been wandering for months only remembering a set of blonde hair. When he gets issued on a quest with nothing except two random demigods and his instinct.

Mark of Athena when the seven has finally formed (thinking Nico, Frank, Percy, Annabeth, Leo, and two other demigods). When wisdoms daughter finally has a prophecy on her shoulders when she walks to her death.

House of Hades when Percy falls alone because he doesn’t want Annabeth to die down there in the horrors of Tartarus because enough people have died already.

Blood of Olympus when Percy deals with the aftermath of his journey, when Gaea’s secret weapons: Hazel and Piper are finally revealed, when Gaea is hoping to get the true seventh wheel, the strongest demigod of the era on her side. When Percy takes on the prophecy himself because the Battle of Manhattan can’t happen again (he still has nightmares about everyone who died).

lol I dunno just a thought, those two other characters would probably be ocs because

1. Hazel probably would never be found by Nico because of when Bianca dies and how old Nico would be and how he understands.

2. Piper doesn’t have a reason to be loyal to the demigod world if/when she’s found. There’s no Leo or Jason for her. She’s alone and as far as she’s concerned she’s always been alone. Why not join Gaea and bring out the system that had a part in her staying alone.

As for the plot of HoO itself I wanna change it a little cuz ngl it’s kind of basic lol. One of the major problems is that Gaea doesn’t have a reason for her actions that really makes you think like Luke’s did imo. Could have her embrace the “mother” part of Mother Earth lol.

Maybe she’s mad because the children of the earth, her children have been disrespected and abused for too long, pawns of the gods, maybe on this timeline when Kronos tried to recruit her (which I think he did?? Not sure) she wasn’t able to reform fast enough and her actions are driven by the guilt of the grieving mother who wasn’t able to protect her children in time idk just SOMETHING to make her not one dimensional and boring lol.

I probably wouldn’t write this but it would be cool if someone did.

[v-ternus]

His Creation Myth

Nice little MountainDew I wrote that got me out of a writing slump. For @forlorn-crows , because of your kind tags on my last Mountain fic.

MDNI

~1900

tags: water Dew, virgin Dew, handjob, alot of praise, Mountain is absolutely whipped, nice mention of a little aftercare

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

Freshly summoned Dew has a quiet movie night with Mountain, and lets all pretend that he's never done anything before. A problem arrises, and good boy Mount has to help him.

Below for your consumption.

It was just supposed to be movie night, a welcoming night so to speak with some snacks and lighthearted conversation. Mountain wanted a relaxed moment with the new summon. But things went sideways halfway through watching Nemo of all things. 

Dew had started feeling a weird heat pooling in his stomach. Before long, the slight pressure from the throw pillow on his lap was becoming excruciating. He sat there, with a pit of worry blooming deep in his chest, before finding the courage to raise the pillow a little. He finds a tent in his sweatpants with a small, darkening wet spot. The hot ache occupying his midsection combined with whatever this was made him feel like he was dying. 

He was apparently staring for too long, because Mountain had to interrupt his non-attention. 

“Something wrong?” Mountain’s words may as well be cracks of thunder, they spooked him and he stupidly jammed the pillow into his lap to hide his problem. It visibly makes him wince, which doesnt help Mountain’s brewing suspicions. 

“Nothing!” He says, too quickly, that it was definitely unusual. Mountain looks at him with those obnoxiously kind, green eyes, a stare that wasn't going to let Dew avoid confessing his problem. Dew was very new to life topside, he was fresh, but Mountain had already taken a liking to him. He could read him pretty well and had learned most of his tells. 

“It's written all over your face Dew, come on. You’re new, you couldn't have run into too many problems yet, I can guarantee that I’ve dealt with whatever it is,” 

The pleading and genuine concern was making things more difficult for Dew. His dick was really aching and he didn't know why, or how to fix it, how to make himself feel better. For all he knew, he could be dying, he had never dealt with this in the pit. Maybe something went wrong during his summoning, maybe his vessel was defective. Regardless, something was very, very wrong. 

Mountain pauses the movie and moves to face Dew, again asking what's wrong. His undivided attention makes Dew’s face hold a bright shade of red, hot shame working down his spine. He tries to curl in on himself further but ends up pushing the pillow down again. The harsh friction makes tears pool in the corners of his eyes. 

Mountain can smell his distress, astringent and bitter. He uses a finger to raise his chin up to bring them face to face. He’s left staring at a pair of eyes screwed tight. 

“Bug?” Dew’s breath hitches. The endearing nickname was the final nail in the coffin. 

Dew finally lets the words out with a whine, “It really hurts,”

“What does?” As far as he’s noticed, nothing had happened to Dew in recent days, and definitely nothing happened in the two hours they’ve been hanging out. He couldn't drum up a moment where he could’ve gotten hurt. 

Dew doesn't even really know what’s hurting, he cant really explain it, so his only option is to show Mountain. Once he moves the pillow, Mountain knows exactly why Dew is hurting. 

“Oh…” He swears he tried to keep his voice neutral so as to not alarm Dew, but he failed miserably. If anything, the way he said it further convinced Dew that something about this was bad, that it would be hard to fix. 

“What do you mean oh?! You have to help me. I think I fucked up Mountain.” A new scent quickly invades Mountain’s senses, it reeks of burnt wood and venom— fear. His brain is quickly wiped clean of any joke, realizing that Dew really has no clue what’s happening. 

“Calm down Dew, you’re perfectly fine,”

“How am I possibly fine?” The tears have started to fall against his rosy cheeks, leaving trails down to his jaw then neck. 

“You’ve really never…?” Mountain desperately needs the full picture, needs Dew to confirm his suspicions. Dew shakes his head, messily wiping off tears that wont stop falling.

“I know how to fix this,” Its Mountains turn to blush. He’s worried that he’s taking advantage of Dew in such an unknowledgeable state, but he’d be lying to himself if he said that this didn't make him throb in his own pants. The chance to relieve him, to teach him for the first time. The notion turned him into a puddle. 

He cradles Dew’s face, dragging his thumb across the tear streaked cheek. The warmth makes Dew loosen his eyes a bit, it takes him off the edge just enough so he can breathe. 

“You need to tell me if anything feels worse ok? Really Dew.” Dew sighs, hopeful for relief. 

“Ok,” Its a quick whisper, he follows it up with a nod just to make sure. His eyes are still shut, he doesn’t know what the cure is and he definitely doesn't know what Mountain is about to do. So he waits patiently, waits for whatever is supposed to make him feel better. 

What he doesn't expect is his shirt being lifted off and a new pressure surrounding his cock. The sudden contact makes him hiss. His eyes shoot open to see Mountain’s eyes locked on his crotch with his large hand palming over it. 

Pain floats around in his mind, he’s sensitive. He didn't think the pain could get worse, but it did. And it was torture. But it was steadily being replaced by a comforting warmth the more Mountain kneaded at him, so he didnt say stop. 

“I’ll show you Dew, how to make yourself feel good,” He drags a thumb over the larger wet spot, slowly, right over the tip, making a point to press down on where he thinks the slit is. Dew jolts and reaches for the offending hand, clamping around his wrist. 

“—feels like you’re lighting me on fire. Hurts.”

“Sorry,” He doesn't mean to tease, not now, but he just can't help it. It's built into him like his magic. It's stronger than second nature. He studies Dew’s face when he goes back to gentle touches. Takes in how his jaw has gone slack, how his pale blue eyes watch on with awe while Mountain touches him.

He gives one last tender squeeze before gently wiggling his arm out of Dew’s grasp. He hooks a finger into Dew’s sweatpants and works it down to his mid thigh, just enough to get it out of the way. Just enough to catch a glimpse of the offending member. 

He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't what he saw— a heavy cock that bounced against his stomach right under his belly button, leaking pre onto his little happy trail. Its nicely thick and long enough that the head would sit nicely in his throat if he got the chance to wrap his lips around Dew. 

“I’ll teach you everything Dew. You just have to let me.”  He wraps his hand around Dew’s cock and he feels it twitch, kicking against his hand. As well endowed as Dew is, he looks embarrassingly small in Mountain’s grasp. He wants to make a remark, make Dew blush even more by telling him just how small he is, but he tucks that fantasy away, for now. Dew’s cock is so red that it's almost purple, he understands then, why he shed tears. 

“It’s so much Mount,”

“Give it time Dew.”

He starts to stroke him, root to tip, lightly gliding over the head and Dew yelps each time. Soon, the drag of his hand fills the room with wet noises. The only other noise is a stream of ‘Ah, Ah, Ah’ falling from the little ghouls mouth.

“Your body already knows what to do, bug, look at how wet you are,” Dew moans, high and feminine. His eyes catch on his slicked thighs and hips, noticing how he they shine with the light dim light of the tv. Mountain's brain is enamored by how he looks like a star as he comes apart in his hands, by how pretty Dew sounds.

The previously overwhelming sensation has bled into indescribable pleasure, Mountain is towing Dew back from the thin line between pleasure and pain. With the relief, he starts to relax, his muscles go numb. 

The earth ghoul recites a silent prayer to whatever is out there. He prays that he’ll be the only one to ever hear his siren sing, that Dew will be his— that Dew would let himself be his.

The easiest support is against Mountain’s chest, so he uses it, leaning against the supple flesh while Mountain snakes his hand up onto the nape of his neck, dragging his nails over his scalp. He holds Dew close, relishes in his warm breath against him. 

Dew starts to roll his hips, jerky and uncoordinated, until he finds a rhythm. He thrusts up to meet the tight fist around him while Mountain uses his finger to pet at the sensitive spot under the head. 

“Good Dew, take what you want,” Mountain watches as even more slick drips out of Dew, it quickly reminds him of his soft spot for water ghouls.

Dew’s rhythm starts to falter and the muscles in his toned thighs start to twitch. Mountain can see it, hell he can damn near taste it, Dew was close.

A tightness forms deep in Dew's stomach, he’s about to have his first orgasm, ever. And the best part? He doesn't even know it. 

“Mountain, what is this? Its- Mount its…” He’s been reduced to a mumbling mess, devoid of any coherent thought thanks to Mountain’s ministrations. All he can do is cling to Mountain like he's his only chance at salvation, which in this moment, he really is.

“Just let it happen Dew, let go for me.”

Mountain tightens his hand and jerks him off faster, twisting when he gets to the tip and rubbing his palm into the head to polish it for good measure. He’s trying his hardest to snap the wound up band in Dew. 

Dew cums without a sound, save for the yelp of him choking on his own breath. He keeps nuzzling his face into the column of Mountain’s neck, grazing his fangs over the tender flesh. All he can smell is his earthy scent, laced with pine and lavender.

He has an unexplainable urge to bite, he wants to sink his teeth in, but he clamps down on his own lip instead. A tinge of copper hits his tongue as he breaks skin. His fingers stay wound up tight in the earth ghoul’s shirt, feeling like he would drift away without the tether. 

Mountain feels like luck is raining down on him as he gets to watch the birth of something he can only describe as celestial. He basks in the glory of Dew discovering pleasure, realizing desire, he watches as Dew fully becomes one with sin. He cant peel his eyes off of the cum spilled over his fingers, speckled along the small hairs of Dew’s happy trail.

Mountain keeps stroking him, working him through everything gently. Once Dew goes soft, he rests his dick gently against his thigh before wiping his mess off on his sheets. He pulls Dew into his lap, ignoring the stickiness that'll inevitably dry uncomfortably between them, and pulls him tight against his chest while leaning against the headboard. He feels Dew’s heavy breath, the deep rise and fall of his chest against his own. 

Dew shifts his leg and unknowingly nudges Mountain’s own throbbing cock, it makes him gasp. But his brain doesn’t recognize it beyond that, it doesnt care about his release. All his brain can think of is the twitching ghoul in his arms.

“Fuck, Mount. Fucking hell.”

“Was that ok? Are you ok?” Mountain expects a simple yes, but Dew’s answer is better than he could’ve imagined. 

“Teach me more sometime.” He feels him further sag into his chest, feeling hopeful for the future. He places a kiss against his hairline and catches his scent again. This time, Dew smells like petrichor and a breeze along a shoreline, sweet and light— happiness.

Dew resting on him makes him feel flayed open, like his raw nerves are being singed one by one. His brain is draped in the sensation— he can’t imagine a life without it.

They’ll eventually get up and when they do, he’ll run a bath for the both of them. He’ll lay Dew on top of him in the tub with his back to his solid chest. He’ll lean his chin on Dew’s bony shoulder and whisper about how good he was, how this is what he deserves each and every time he ever lays with someone. He’ll pepper the side of his face with soft kisses as he mumbles words of thanks, immensely grateful that Dew trusted him with something so special. They’ll stay till the water runs cold. 

He hopes Dew falls asleep tucked into his side. 

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jessica Valenti at Abortion, Every Day:

I remember the feeling of hands inside me. Pulling, tugging, moving things aside. My emergency c-section wasn’t painful, but that feeling of being invaded was somehow worse than physical hurt. For years, the thought of the surgery would send me into a PTSD panic, my knees literally buckling and vomit coming up the back of my throat. In my memory, my arms are tied down while I’m being cut—but I know that’s not true. It’s just my brain’s way of making the powerlessness of the moment seem tangible. 

Because I was so early in my pregnancy, just 28 weeks along, doctors had to cut me both horizontally and vertically, making it life-threatening for me to have a vaginal birth in the future and increasing my risk for uterine rupture. I didn’t know it then, but I would never have another child.  So when I see anti-abortion groups blithely suggesting that women with life-threatening pregnancies should be forced into c-sections rather than easier, safer, and less traumatic abortions—it feels personal. Because I chose my medical nightmare; it was necessary to save both my life and my daughter’s. I can’t imagine the horror of going through such a thing unnecessarily, or at 16 weeks pregnant instead of 28. What if my tied-down arms weren’t a post-traumatic illusion, but a legal reality?

For nearly a year, I’ve been tracking this growing strategy: Some of the most powerful anti-abortion organizations in the country are using carefully-worded legislation and seemingly-credible clinical recommendations to codify medical atrocities—pushing doctors to force pregnant women into unnecessary labor and c-sections, even before fetal viability and sometimes even when a fetus has died. Why would anyone do such a thing? The answer is as simple as it is awful: Anti-abortion groups and lawmakers want to prove that abortion is never necessary to save a person’s life. The problem is that they know pregnancy can be deadly, especially in the United States. Rather than admit abortion can be life-saving, their solution is to force doctors to end deadly pregnancies in any other way—even if it means torturing women in the process. 

Anti-abortion lawmakers and activists are so desperate to divorce abortion from health care, they’d prefer to see us dead than allow critically ill women to get care they disagree with.  I mean that literally. This is how they kill us. With the sly shifting of medical standards and surreptitiously-placed legislative language. Because while these people are cruel, they’re certainly not stupid. Anti-abortion extremists know the only way to normalize medical torture is to move quietly and slowly.  After all, dystopias aren’t created in a day. They’re built, law by law and talking point by talking point, through medical regulations, bureaucracy, and fear. From a Supreme Court ruling in Idaho to timid guidance from hospital administrators in Louisiana—anti-abortion groups don’t need to own up to their grim vision when they have others embedding the nightmare bit by bit. 

That’s not to say they haven’t been busy themselves. Using extremist groups with credible-sounding names—like American Association of Pro-Life OBGYNs or the Charlotte Lozier Institute—the anti-abortion movement has carefully disguised radical calls to hurt women as simple scientific recommendations. They’ve inserted the nonsense term ‘maternal fetal separation’ into legislation, court cases and conservative talking points, removing ‘abortion’ in an attempt to further the lie that the procedure is never necessary. They've published papers and trotted out ‘experts’ who claim it’s “medically standard” to force women into c-sections or vaginal labor when their lives are at risk. Again, even when it’s too early for a fetus to survive.

Anti-abortion legislators have done their job too, passing laws that allow their state to define what conditions are life-threatening during pregnancy and the best course of action for doctors. They’ve written mandates that emergency terminations be performed in a way that “provides the best opportunity for the unborn child to survive.” If states must be forced to save women’s lives, it appears, they’ll make sure we suffer greatly for the trouble.  It’s not a coincidence that reports coming out of anti-abortion states show a sharp rise in c-sections. With their license and freedom on the line, doctors and hospitals are falling in line. One Texas OBGYN who was directed to give a septic patient a hysterotomy told researchers, “The morbidity is going to be insane.”

To people who value fetuses above women, that’s a price they’re willing to pay. Indeed, all of this cruelty starts to make morbid sense when you understand that the broader anti-abortion goal goes beyond forced c-sections or redefining medical standards. They are trying to make Americans numb to women suffering and dying during pregnancy. They’re treating it as unpreventable—natural, even—so that voters don’t bat an eye when the maternal mortality numbers skyrocket. 

Jessica Valenti reports on the rise of c-sections post-Roe and dishonest efforts to divorce abortion from healthcare by anti-abortion zealots in her Abortion, Every Day blog.

[sprout-senior]

some nightmare headcanon type things, bc some thoughts invaded my brain and i needed to get them out(in depth headcanon shit under the cut)

the ‘nightmare’ we know now is a completely different person from the former guardian of negativity, though he possesses all the same memories. he goes by the same name, brings up past events, and generally acts as if he’s the same person but evil. he’s apathetic and calm in his downtime, but he becomes manic/psychotic when wreaking havoc and feeding off negativity. if he has a soft spot for the ghost child residing in his head, he will never admit it or intentionally show it.

the real nightmare is dead, but his consciousness remains tied to the entity that took over his body, an echo of a soul. he spends a lot of time dormant/“asleep” due to the pain of constantly bearing witness to this parasite’s atrocities. he will always stay awake during any interactions with dream. he misses his brother so much. there have been a couple occasions where he has saved his life by wreaking absolute havoc in his shared mind(he SHRIEKS. he screams like a banshee and will not let up for even a second until dream is safe). this takes up a lot of energy, so he reserves this method for dream only for fear of not being able to use it when it matters most. his morals have… eroded, a little; he simply does not have the capacity to truly care for anyone but dream. 500 years of being a helpless bystander to mass murder was bound to desensitize him. as it stands now, he’s not about to waste precious energy on random people, even if it brings him a nonzero amount of guilt.

they refer to each other as moon and terror respectively, to avoid the headache of sharing a name. in downtime, they’re almost amicable; neither are much for conversation, but they will read together and generally let each other exist in peace and quiet.

moon knows that the pain and misery he feels is not his alone. he is intimately aware of terror’s inner struggles, and is not afraid to use it against him in arguments. he haunts him, tells him everything he doesn’t want to hear, laughs in his face when he lashes out in anger. terror retaliates by describing exactly how he wants to kill dream, insisting that moon won’t be able to do anything about it. their arguments usually end abruptly, either due to being interrupted or just running out of steam.

moon will never be able to exist independently from terror. hypothetically, he could interact with the world etc if terror relinquished that control, but that isn’t happening any time soon(or maybe ever).

the incidents where terror lets dream go leads him to believe that his brother is still in there, which… isn’t entirely inaccurate, but not in the way he thinks. terror holds no love or care for dream, and very firmly wants him dead.

just looking at the code, you would not be able to find moon’s presence. there are some people who could deduce it based on terror’s behavior, but only if they’ve experienced it themselves(dust, cross, etc) and they’re REALLY paying attention. dust is currently the only one who knows what’s up, having walked in on terror arguing with nobody one too many times. even then, he’s only going off an extremely educated guess; he’s not about to cause trouble with his boss.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Dethrone - Chapter 3

Warnings: mention of mutilation, swearing, mentions of bullying

Authors Note: two year time jump, the story fr starts now, high valyrian is going to be in italics, we finally meet our mans

Word Count: 3.1k

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It’s been just over two years since I’ve arrived at Dragonstone. Things were going well, but could always be better. My father never really got better at being a father. He does give me whatever I ask for, but I think it’s just to get me away from him. Rheanrya on the other hand, was hands down the sweetest woman I’ve ever met. I have no idea how she puts up with my father. Knaenna has also lived here with me and has remained my rock and my breath of calm air. 

My dream continues to occur and I feel as if I’m always on the lookout for my white haired King. The only thing that has started to change within it is the amount of witnesses to our union. I feel as though I’ll find him any day now and it’s causing me to be jittery and jumpy.

I’ve been training everyday again with Jace and Luke. It took a lot of persuading when I had first asked them to let me train with them. Now they get mad at me when I drag getting up to meet them at the beach. It helps me feel a sense of control and boosts my confidence to wield a weapon again. They were both surprised to see how light I am on my feet and how easy I was able to best them. 

I’m fairly close with Jace and Luke, but they don’t hesitate to remind me of my life in Runestone. I usually just brush it off as siblings fighting, but sometimes it digs too deep. More days than not, I still feel like an outsider who invaded this family. I’m just thankful to be surrounded by more people than just people whose job it is to take care of me.

Me and Jace were sparing when my father interrupted us. He said they received a raven from Baela, who’s staying at Driftmark, saying there are rumors of Viserys declining health and it seems like crows may be waiting for the throne which piques my interest. Over the years it has always surprised me that Rheanrya is the heir and how little her and my father attend court. They have no idea what’s going on in the realm because they stay holed up here at Dragonstone. 

“This is such bullshit.” Jace scoffs handing the message back to Daemon.

My father leads us back to the castle. We’re all to meet in the hall to discuss what to do now. I’ve been been somewhat caught up on the family fallouts. Everyone tries to avoid talking about our family in Kings Landing as much as possible, at least around me. I’ve been able to read about them, but Jace and Luke have no issue telling me how terrible our cousins are.

“Thank you all for getting here so quickly. You’ve heard the news, which means we’re heading for Kings Landing in the morning. Please pack your things. I need you to be ready by first light.” Rheanrya says decisively. 

We’re sent off to our chambers to begin packing. I wish the circumstances were better as to why we were heading to Kings Landing. I’ve heard plenty of good and bad stories. I want to see for myself. I’m excited to finally be leaving Dragonstone. I do have more freedom here but I was able to explore everything in under a turn of the moon.

Although I haven’t heard much good of our family there, I’m still excited to meet them. It does make me nervous that they’ll shun me. They’ve been sent ravens of my existence, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be as welcoming. I’m secretly hoping I’ll find my King there among our estranged family so I can finally start paving our future.

The rest of the night is a blur. There is so much commotion with all of the preparations for our departure. I close myself off in my room because I’m getting overwhelmed. I try to find sleep, but my mind refuses to turn off. My brain is running in circles of all of the possibilities. 

It seems right when I fall asleep there’s a knock at my door. It’s Kaenna telling me I have to start getting ready. I slowly get out of bed trying to wipe whatever sleep I had off my eyes. 

“It’s so fucking early.” I groan pulling a dress out of my wardrobe. 

“How did you sleep?” Kaenna asks softly trying to tame my hair. 

“I didn’t.” I grumbled pulling my dress up. 

She doesn’t respond. She ties up the back of my dress and leads me over to my vanity so she can start on my hair. We sit in comfortable silence and once she’s done, she walks over my bags to grab them. 

We walk down to the main entrance and I see everyone gathered there. Some men come and grab our bags to bring to the ship. At least I’ll be able to get some sleep on our journey. 

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It seems like we have been sailing forever. We’re all stir crazy and just ready to be on solid ground again. When we start to see the outline of King Landing we are practically jumping off the boat. 

When we finally dock and get off no one is there to welcome us. My father didn’t take this lightly, but Rheanrya did her best to calm him down. She told Jace and Luke to show me around and explore while she and my father go seek out Viserys and Alicent. 

They seemed to have a destination in mind by their fast pace. I trail behind taking in the new scenery. When I finally catch up, I see they lead me to the training yard. Of course. Why would we explore when we could train. I roll my eyes and stand next to them.

They’re pointing out weapons they used to train with and are showing me their favorite ones. Jace points out a spot in the brick that Luke had broken in their younger years. Loud shouts divert our attention to the two men surrounded by a group. 

We walk over and push our way to the front of the circle. I am immediately entranced with the man with the blinding white hair. He’s so graceful with his sword it looks like it’s dancing. I know I’m staring, but I can’t help it there’s just something about him pulling me in and stealing all of my attention.

“No fucking way that’s him.” I hear Jace whisper to Luke. That’s when I notice the eyepatch. Fuck. That’s Aemond? 

“Glad he finally got an eye patch to cover some of that scar.” Luke says with disgust. 

They way they described Aemond to me was not accurate. They made it seem like he was repulsive and I wouldn’t be able to look at him. Here I am and now I can’t take my eyes off of him. I’m conflicted. I know the history between him and Luke, but I can’t help it. 

“Why are you staring at him like that?” Jace whisper yells to me breaking my trance. 

“Nephews, would you like to train with me?” our heads snap in the direction of the velvet voice. “And who is this?” Aemomd turns to me and starts walking over. 

“I’m Viktorya.” I say standing tall trying to calm my nerves as he walks even closer. 

“The infamous, hidden, Princess Viktorya.” He says grabbing my hand and kissing it. “I’m Aemond.” he looks at me with a piercing violet eye as I feel my heart stop.

It’s him. My King. My heart begins to beat again, more rapidly this time. I’ve been looking for him in every man with white hair since I can remember. I can’t help the butterflies in my stomach when he grabs my hand. It feels like pure fire radiating between us. I realize we’re just standing there with our hands in each others and step back and try to find words but I’m at a loss.

“Hm,” Aemond smirks. “I’ll come find you later. Nephews.” he says to Jace and Luke never breaking eye contact with me until he walks away.

He’ll come find me later? What does that mean? I’m nervous to turn towards Jace and Luke. I know they’ll have something to say about that interaction. I couldn’t care less what they have to say. I’m barely able to contain myself to not follow after Aemond like a lost kitten.

“What was that??” Luke asks with raised eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” I respond trying to sound innocent. 

“You were practically eye fucking him since you saw him. Are you not ashamed? That’s Aemond.” Jace says voice getting louder. 

“I was not. You’re being so fucking dramatic.” I huff and walk away not wanting to deal with this. We’ve been locked up on a ship for three days and I’m ready to do something and hopefully run into Aemond.

“You don’t even know where you’re going.” Luke calls after me and I turn back towards him. 

“Rheanrya said we could explore so, I’m going to explore.” I say dully and start walking in the opposite direction of them. 

Kings Landing is filled with people. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many people in one place. The streets are filled with shouting and laughter. There’s so much to take in. I walk in between bodies and carts taking in all the new smells of food.

I feel bad for leaving Jace and Luke, but I didn’t want to be questioned. I honestly needed some space to clear my head. I feel like my family will think me a traitor for even having a thought of Aemond and never talk to me again. I know I’ve only just met him but all of my feelings just went crazy the moment he grabbed my hand.

I’m walking along aimlessly looking at all of the shops. Stopping to talk with some people on the street. The only goal I have in mind right now is seeing as much as I can. I’m continuously taking in my surroundings trying to memorize it all as if I’ll never be able to return. 

“Should you really be walking around unattended.” Aemond says from behind me making me jump. 

“I didn’t know when you said later, that you meant in 20 minutes.” I turn towards him a smile splitting across my face.

“It wasn’t hard to find you. Your hair stands out.” he says brushing a strand away from my face. 

He’s not making this easy. I can feel my face heat up as I look at him. I barely know him, only what others have told me. I also feel like I’ve known him my whole life because he is quite literally the man of my dreams. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to contain myself with him in front of me. The heat rises between us and I have to step back again and he chuckles. 

“Could I show you around?” he smiles down at me. 

“That would be lovely.” I smile back to him. 

Aemond holds out his arm for me to grab and I smile warmly and grab on. We leisurely walk through the streets as he points out different shops. I have no care to what my family will think. This is my future and they just wouldn’t understand. 

I’m still holding on to his arm as we leisurely stroll around Kings Landing. We walk around in comfortable silence and I have to rein myself in from continuously staring at him. My King. My husband. My love. 

“What have you seen so far?” Aemond asks looking down at me snapping me out of my thoughts. 

“Pretty much just you training.” I look up to him.

“Then you’ve seen it all.” he smirks at me. 

“Yes, of course. I’ve only come here for you.” I roll my eyes and smirk at how true my statement is. 

“Have you now?” Aemond smirks. “Did your “brothers” tell you much about me?” he says leading me down the streets. 

I can hear the strain when he says brothers. Truth is I wouldn’t necessarily consider them my brothers. They never refrained from talking about the mutilation but avoided any other talk of him. This is my chance to gain more insight and see who my “brothers” truly are.

“Um, not much. Just some basics.” I say nervous to upset him over his past. I know it’s been years, but how could one move past being mutilated. 

He leads us into the garden. It’s more beautiful than I expected. I’m so glad he brought me here first. This was one of the main places I was adamant on finding. There are so many plants and flowers I’ve never seen before. I’m enchanted by the life growing around us.

He brings us to a small table with two chairs. He pulls out my chair for me and sits across from me. We stare at each other in silence for a couple of moments until a young woman brings us some drinks. 

“What do the basics of me include?” he asks raising an eyebrow and grabbing his cup to take a sip. 

“They didn’t say very much or much good honestly.” I let out in a breath. “They told me you stole a dragon and that you used to bully all of them. Mostly they’ve just told me of the gruesome night they took your eye.” I look up to him. 

Every time they talk about that night it makes my stomach turn. How they feel so victorious for hurting a family member. I understand that he bullied them, or so they say, but taking his eye is baffling. The viciousness in their voices when they speak about that night never sits well with me.

“That’s what they’ve told you?” he inquires. 

“It never sounded right to me. What they did was malicious regardless of what was said. I’d rather hear about you from you anyways.” I say finally looking up to him to see his face soften. 

“You want to hear my side?” he asks skeptical almost shocked.

“I think they lied. You didn’t when you called them what you did. That’s why I’m sitting here with you.” I say hesitantly reaching across to squeeze his hand. He looks down at my hand in shock. I’m shocked myself. I should be thinking about how we could be seen, but instead I want to know more about this beautiful man.

“Do I not scare you?” he asks leaning back in his chair. 

“What do I have to be scared of?” I ask tilting my head. 

“You only know what you’ve been told about me. As you’ve said, none of it was good. You see this scar on my face. Yet, you sit with me, completely calm.” he says intensely. 

“You want me to be scared of stories and scar?” I ask smiling. 

“I expect it.” he says solemnly looking away from me. 

“Personally, I see you as the rider of the mighty Vhagar, who also happens to have a scar which may make him more attractive.” I say truthfully as he turns to me with his eye squinted. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, I’m blinded by his beauty and all my thoughts are just spilling out.

“Attractive?” he questions tilting his head slightly.

“Yes.” I say definitely slightly nodding my head.

“Hm,” he hums scanning my face. 

“So, tell me how you stole a dragon.” I ask leaning forward. 

“I didn’t steal Vhagar. You can’t steal a dragon.” he says folding his hands. 

“Then tell me. Please.” I search his face for any emotion. 

“She called to me and I answered.” he answers shortly. 

“Aemond just tell me. I want to hear. Good or bad I want to know.” I say looking at him intently. 

I wish I knew what he was thinking. I can tell he doesn’t trust me which is fair. I’m living with the kids who have taken his eye. He expects me to be on their side. I feel like I have no place to take sides when I have no context and wasn’t there. I know things got out of hand, but no one has ever told me the full story. 

“I claimed Vhagar the night of Baela and Rhenas mothers funeral. Vhagar was their mothers. Yet, she called out to me. They were upset when they found out I was the one who claimed her. We all threw vicious words at each other. They all started physically attacking me and Luke ended up cutting my eye out. No one cared. Not even my father. My mother was the only one to advocate for me.” his voice softens as he ends his story looking away from me.

I can tell he’s upset and I have no idea what to say. I reach across the small table to take his hand in mine. I rub his hand with my thumb and then he finally looks up to me with a sad confused expression. 

“You didn’t deserve that.” I say softly still rubbing his hand offering him a soft smile.

“Are you just saying that?” he asks pulling his hand away making me frown. 

“It shouldn’t have gotten to that point. No one deserves to lose an eye over words.” I respond. 

“They’ve always bullied me. I was the only one without a dragon. Do you know how hard that was? Your brothers and Aegon would torment me together. No one was in my corner. I had no one and I still have no one.” he says looking away. 

“I’m sorry. You deserved more.” I say softly. 

“It’s done and over with. Now I have a hideous scar.” he says brushing over his eyepatch. 

“May I see?” I ask nervously biting my lip.

“No.” Aemond says flatly. 

“Please?” I ask in a sweet voice batting my eyelashes.

“If I show you, you’ll never want to see me again.” he looks to me his expression sad.

“I sincerely doubt that.” I say looking at him expectantly. 

“Fine.” he sighs removing his eyepatch. 

I’m in awe. I only expected to see a long, jagged scar. He has a beautifully sculpted sapphire in place of his eye. He’s truly stunning. I know I’m in trouble now. I have no intention of leaving him alone. I realize I’ve just been staring and not saying anything and he grabs his eyepatch to cover up.

“No, no. May I?” I ask gesturing for me to come look closer. 

“As you wish.” he says helping me pull my chair closer. 

As I come closer I can see all of the tiny details and colors of his crystal. It compliments his skin perfectly. I bring my hand up to ghost over his scar when he grabs my wrist to stop my movements. 

“I’m sorry.” I pull back as he quickly puts his eyepatch back on. 

“Are you disgusted?” he asks looking at me intensely. 

“Quite the opposite. I think you’re very pretty.” I admit shamelessly admiring him. 

“Pretty.” he scoffs.

“You’re like sculpted by the Gods. Perfection.” I breathe out. 

Aemond brushes off this compliment and stands up. He offers me his hand and I accept. I’m glad I haven’t ruined this yet. I have no idea where he’s taking me, but I’d follow him anywhere. 

“Where are we going now?” I ask looking to him. 

“I want to show you what I gained when I lost my eye.” he says proudly.

[thedarkdisgrace]

This is a thread/little mini fic from my twitter about my head canon that Chuuya has one freckle that sits just at the top of his upper lip, right where the cupids bow meets his lip. This was a 3am brain rot of mine lol

Dazai goes crazy over this freckle in particular. He discovers it on one of their PM missions early on in their partnership, when they have to share a bed. Which they’ve been doing more often lately.

After some initial bickering about making sure the ‘dumbass mackerel’ doesn’t invade his side of the bed, Chuuya’s out like a light quickly, exhausted after the mission.

Dazai stays awake, he’s used to it since he barely sleeps anyway. Though as he looks over at his sleeping partner, he realizes just how close they are. Much closer than the past few times they shared a bed.

His eyes wander over Chuuya’s features, eyes catching as for the first time he sees just how many freckles dusted his partner’s skin. They had never stayed close enough for long enough to see them *this* clearly.

At least not without one of them making excuses to move away when they lingered too close too long.

Dazai challenges himself to try to count them all, memorizing their placements, the patterns they make, making them into constellations within his mind.

That’s when he notices the one, lonely freckle sat on his upper lip. Right where his cupids bow connects to his lip, slightly off set.

For some reason, this sight of this lonely freckle incites a need in Dazai, one he quickly dismisses and attempts quash within himself. Yet, the need persists against his will, coiling in his gut. Much to his chagrin.

For some reason, his mind seems to believe *kissing* that one particular freckle is something he should do. Preposterous, he thinks, why would he kiss the slug?

Yet, even as he tries to shift his attention to other parts of Chuuya’s face, to continue his mission in counting the other freckles that dust his skin, his eyes always find their way back to that one particular freckle.

Dazai huffs quietly, frustrated, and he sets to composing a plan to appease this lingering impulse if it was going to be this stubborn. He a needed a solution that wouldn’t involve waking the sleeping chibi.

He decides on a light touch, a light graze across it shouldn’t wake Chuuya, he is often a heavy sleeper. Ideally it would be enough to quiet his insistent thoughts.

Dazai pulls a hand from beneath the covers, inching it slowly toward Chuuya’s lips. Stopping just before he makes contact, choosing to watch him for just a moment.

Chuuya didn’t stir, his soft snores filling Dazai’s ears, after a few beats passed Dazai was satisfied the slug was indeed sleeping deeply. So, Dazai pushes his hand gently forward, closing the few centimeters between them.

The moment his fingertip connects with Chuuya’s skin, it sends a spark of electricity down his spine.

The touch was light yet that seemed to intensify the feeling burning beneath his skin. His chest slowly tightened & he froze in place, his finger lingering longer than he ever meant against his skin.

Dazai wasn’t exactly a stranger to touch but he wouldn’t say they were familiars either.

Doctor after doctor’s rough touch, either patching him up or searching for more problems. Then it became only Mori’s precise, callous touch.

Dazai knew how to manipulate through touch, be it a firm handshake or a caress to loosen someone’s lips. Cold. Calculating.

And there was the *harsher* ways of getting someone to talk.

Things that require a steady, cruel hand and lack of what a decent person might call *morals*.

But this, was *different*.

This… *tenderness*. This touch without a real goal or ulterior motive.

Choosing to touch because of nothing more than a whim…a desire that was dancing in the back of his mind.

Or the *front* of his mind, in this case. It was almost as if he was allowed to *want* things.

Almost as if he was *human*.

The “demon prodigy” didn’t know *tenderness*.

He would never use a gentle hand. His hands were cold and harsh, matching his gaze towards anyone who would challenge him.

Yet, this *was* different.

This was different, he realizes, because it’s *Chuuya*.

Chuuya, who crashed (quite literally), into his life. Stunningly vibrant and loud compared to the sea of grey that was everything else.

Chuuya, who had the *awful* habit of surprising him without trying.

Chuuya, who was so painfully, viscerally *human*.

Chuuya, who gave Dazai something he thought long gone.

A reason to keep going.

Interest in what the future would hold.

And maybe, if Chuuya can do that, maybe Dazai can allow himself his moment.

This moment where he doesn’t need to be the “demon prodigy”.

He can reach out with gentle fingers & tell himself he��s human too.

Giving into the temptation further, he delicately presses against the freckle on Chuuya’s lip. Getting lost in the sensation of his soft lips under his fingertips.

Dazai doesn’t keep track of how long he stays like this, he’s only vaguely aware of the way his fingertip started drifting to trace the outline of his lips.

His hand drifts down further, the tips of his fingers lightly gathering to one side of his jaw while his thumb presses back against the freckle.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when Chuuya shifts.

He expect Chuuya to wake, to question what he was doing while hurling insults. Likely while kicking him completely out of their shared bed.

But that doesn’t happen.

What does happen is Chuuya, despite seemingly still asleep, presses ever for slightly into Dazai’s touch. A sigh escaping his lips, his warm breath brushing against Dazai’s face.

Dazai freezes, stunned at this reaction. Ah, of course the slug can even surprise him in his sleep.

He feels heat rising to his cheeks as Chuuya settles even closer to him. After a moment, he allows his hand to press a little more firmly against Chuuya’s face.

He caresses Chuuya’s jaw for a moment longer, a bit more sure of himself, thumb still comfortable in its spot resting on his lips. His eyes wander over Chuuya’s face.

Dazai will allow himself this moment. Maybe it’ll be his only moment like this, that seems most likely.

But a traitorous part of him hopes it’s *not* going to be the only one.

Dazai lets a smirk slip across his face, he would need to remember to tease his dog for breaking his own rule, crossing over their assigned sides.

But as a yawn takes him, he realizes he actually feels tired for once.

Dazai lets his thumb sweep over the freckle one last time before removing his hand.

He slips it back under the blanket & adjusts to a more comfortable position for sleep.

And if he also settles even closer to Chuuya than before, that’s no one’s business.

Dazai sweeps his eyes over Chuuya’s face one last time before shutting his eyes & slipping easily to sleep. The sounds of Chuuya’s slight snoring lulling him even further.

He’ll have to finished counting them another evening.

End~

This was the first “threadfic” I had attempted and my first attempt at writing a little something in a long time.

I hope this read alright and if you read, that you enjoyed. I am kinda working on a part 2 of this.

[nouveauxamoris]

also new oc drop !!!! yay!! everyone say hi to indigo!!! (he’s not new. she’s nowhere near new. they’ve been around for a while i’ve just never posted about them.. but they’re invading my brain. so)

RBS APPRECIATED!

[praetorqueenreyna]

The king of Hybern picked his way through the remains of Rosehall. The once proud manor was now dilapidated and overgrown with weeds. The front doors had been ripped off their hinges, and part of the ceiling in the foyer had caved in and allowed debris from the outside to invade and pile up on the floor. He made his way unerringly to the throne room. An enormous beast lay prone in front of the dais. Its wolf-like jaw rested on its paws, green eyes staring vacantly at the wall. One of the antlers that adorned its head had snapped off. “Look what they’ve done to you,” he murmured. The beast didn’t move. “You fought me, every step of the way, out of some misplaced sense of honor. And what do you have to show for it?” Slowly, painfully, the beast raised its head to look at him. The king fought back a smile. The situation was delicate, and the High Lord was still powerful. He continued speaking, his voice a soothing melody. “They’ve all betrayed you, haven’t they? For hundreds of years, they’ve used your loyalty against you and then left. The Lord of Night slaughtered your family and then waged war on your land. That human woman lied to you in order to destabilize your rule and steal your secrets. Even your faithful emissary has left you.”  The beast's eyes blazed at the mention of the Autumn Court brat. A matching surge of fury swelled in the king’s breast, and he fought it down. This was no time for petty emotions like jealousy. He was so close to success. “Don’t you tire of these outdated notions of good and evil?” the king crooned. “Nobody else in this wretched kingdom adheres to them. You’ve fought for them long enough. Isn’t it time to fight for yourself? To seek vengeance against those who have deceived you?” The king held his breath. This was the vital moment, where he found out if he had gone too far and ruined his entire plan before it had even begun. The beast unfolded its legs and rose to its feet. It approached the king, its mouth full of sharp teeth perfectly level with his throat. The metallic tang of magic filled the air, and the beasts form puddled and shifted into a bowed blonde man dressed in rags. The High Lord of Spring turned his gaunt face up to the king. “Yes,” he said, voice hoarse from disuse. “Tell me how.” Finally, the king allowed himself to grin. He tenderly cupped Tamlin’s cheek in his hand, thumb brushing against the perfect golden skin. “I already have.”

I blame @copypastus, @thrumbolt, and @northern-star-polaris for infecting my brain with Tamlin/King of Hybern nonsense.

[sluggintub]

Omg!!!!!!

Haiii!!!! Elloo!!!

Im back with your semi annual Robo Mace wip :0000

Finally was able to expand upon an idea cooking in my mind for a good bit which was a kinda battle mask (Basically whenever conflict is engaged their “human” mouth would be covered with this extravagant layer o’ metal to protect em!)

Practical considering they’re mostly made up of metal?

Absolutely not

Cool?

ABSOLUTELY

Anyways thats literally the whole wip.

Ive redrawn that same pose like five million times on different canvases with every attempt so ive made like zero progress 💀

But now that I have your attention I wanted to expand on Mace’s lore cuz I feel like it and I think i promised to make a post about it

So.

I dont know about any of you you guys-

I personally feel like Darcy the core and Alderitch coulda be so much cooler!

Like dont get me wrong. I like Darcy design wise! They’ve literally been living in my head rent free ever since their first teaser! (It’s a blessing and a curse please send help hshshHahabbfnsuaha)

But I personally feel like plot wise they were kinda lacking :(

And the idea of a bucha a n c i e n t newts consciousnesses invading a 13/14 year old kids mind forcefully is kinda…gross.

So.

I was brainstorming and came up with this:

When the core was first teased. Back in the ye olde days in the pre True colors when the fandom called it the Night-

Im not the only one that thought it was some sorta god right?

A giant mass of orange eyes that a powerful King that ruled for thousands of years kneels down to and calls “Master?”

Idk about you but that gives off omnipotent eldritch horror vibes to me.

So I basically took that concept and expanded upon that and incorporated bits of the lore that Andrias dropped about his kind.

Specifically about how he said that his kind were conquerers.

Why?

Sure. It could purely be a generational trauma thing.

His father did it. His father’s father did it. And his father’s father’s father did it as well.

That could be the end of it.

No one really knows why they conquer and enslave races other than “tradition.”

Maybe Andrias only mentions it all is so he can bask in his triumph. To feel a deluded sense of pride in his lineage for finally being able to continue the work of his forefathers after thousands of years of resentment and regret planted in his mind by his own father that twisted and corrupted his perception on reality.

Maybe Matt just thought those sequences up on the spot and they sorta made sense.

Theres alotta maybes and to my knowledge thats about the extent of it

But im not satisfied with that

So I took that concept. The conquering inter dimensional newts and elevated it.

The core was never a series of Newtopia’s “greatest minds.”

It was always an omnipotent being.

An all seeing all knowing all powerful elderitch horror that is always hungry.

Thats why Andrias’ ancestors invaded other worlds!

Whether it was out of fear or necessity or a deal made with the devil

The reason they invaded is because the core is always hungry. And it needed to feed. So they sacrificed whole worlds to the core just to satiate its ravenous appetite.

And it would explain why in the last season Amphibia was being siphoned for all its resources

Not only was it for the factories, the frobo army, and the mind control devices

It was to stave off the cores hunger until the invasion of earth could surpass

And I didnt forget about all those newts that died and had their brain transferred to the core originally oh nonono

They still sacrificed themselves. But not to join the core or become anything greater. Despite what they believed or what they were promised by the core, Alderitch and all those newts who made up the canon core were nothing more than willing sacrifices to the cores endless hunger. They realistically died for nothing.

So. With this concept/au/rewrite/whatever solves alot of the inconsistencies in the plot and also gets rid of the gross old newts in 13 year olds brain plot

Lemme know what you think of this concept! Im open to criticism and any ideas anyone is willing to share and will do my best to respond to em!