#Also this is my first comic thing so it's not great but I tried :')

[lilliancdoodles]

A mini comic on how the brasilians in Life is like the ocean, it goes up and down by @tastytoastz got Richas. Inspired by this post/meme and these tags:

[chuluoyi]

✎ mission: baby steps !

- gojo satoru x reader

the three times gojo tried to make his baby love him (and how he miserably fails)

genre: full crack, dad!gojo being a sore loser, your baby being mean (he only wants peace, really), and obviously, fluff !!

note: a little thing for father's day ehe <3 i know i said i'll work on smut in the polls next but uhhh, this comes first ok?! :') i just love the idea of gojo vs baby don't mind me *sobs* and all the scenario here come from the tiktok/reels you've sent me!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

There are many things that come with being a jujutsu sorcerer, and when you are Gojo Satoru, those things seem to be multiplying like bunnies.

This essentially means less time with his wife and baby. Look, he could finish missions fast, but when sent to other cities, even he couldn't abuse his teleportation powers all the time to return to Tokyo.

And so, as much as he hated it, he couldn't fault his baby boy for forgetting him.

"Look, it's papa," you rocked your son with a smile, consoling him as he wailed right after Satoru held him. "Don't cry, don't cry! Papa just got back from a long mission, he's not scary!"

"Is he scared of me?" Ouch. The thought prickled him. It somehow felt sourer than seeing Principal Gakuganji's face.

You hummed, seemingly (or comically?) deep in thought. "Hmm, in baby's point of view: a big, bad man suddenly picks him up, of course he's scared."

"I'm not a bad man!"

Okay, he wasn't having this. Satoru adored his baby to bits and he would want him to at least know it. It's settled then—he would be taking paid leave just to spend some time with his baby.

This would be his mission for the next three days!

DAY ONE

The day started off great. Baby Gojo was relatively calm, a bit fussy here and there but Satoru could definitely handle him.

"Look, a plane is coming!" he said playfully, moving the spoon in the air to attract his baby's attention. "Open your mouth wide!"

Baby blinked at him with the straightest face ever. His two blue orbs were the very same as his father, and yet they held disinterest so great that it was a wonder Satoru didn't notice.

He then playfully smooched baby's face, but he scrunched up, cringing in response.

And later, another achievement unlocked: Satoru successfully got his son to sleep for his afternoon nap!

"You're so cute, sigh." Satoru poked his baby's cheek lightly. "You look like me, but when you sleep, you totally look like your mama..."

He might not say it out loud, but one of his favorite sights lately was seeing you sleep next to your son. Both of you looked so precious and vulnerable, so alike, and it made him warm.

And whenever he looked at this little creation between you and him, he also got the urge to poke him so bad.

So he did. Only this time, he poked him a little too hard.

And how wrong that move was.

His son immediately cracked his eyes open, his lips quivered, and then his whole face scrunched up, followed by—

"WAAA!"

"Oof! Wait— I'm sorry!"

Long story short, he refused to be held in Satoru's arms, so you took over and your husband could only watch you with dissatisfaction.

"Won't you let me hold you?" he asked despondently, pulling up a pitiful face and batting his eyelashes. "I have the warmest hugs! Mama can vouch for that!"

"Satoru, he doesn't want you."

DAY ONE RESULT : FAILED

DAY TWO

Okay, his baby would love him today. Satoru was sure of it.

He had ordered this baby ride-on toy via home shopping and not only that, he would play with him!

"Here we goo~! Honk! Honk!" Satoru steered the little vehicle with his son at the backseat, hyping him up and even made a weird sound that was supposed to resemble a... train?

You watched them both, giggling. Your husband looked positively ridiculous as he was too big for the small vehicle, but still persisted in entertaining your clueless baby behind him. "Oh my, Satoru, you're trying way too hard."

"I have to!" he retorted, sending pout and a glare at the same time. "You can't hog him all the time, he's my son too!"

"Well, good luck~ as it happens, your spawn isn't easy to impress."

"Just so you wait—!" Satoru begrudgingly shot you a look, eaten up by your taunts, not noticing the wall in front of him. "By the end of today, he'll— whoaaa!"

He was about to crash into the said wall, and you were prepared to jump to save your baby first. But then, Satoru did the next best thing to stop it—jumping out of the ride-on, rolling onto the floor... and crashing into the bookshelf that some of the things fell. "Ow!"

"Are you okay!?" you immediately picked up your baby before checking him over. However, Satoru's eyes were transfixed on your shared munchkin.

"Meh heh~"

And you too when you heard it— your baby was wiggling, all smiles, seemingly amused by the sight of his papa lying there pitifully. Satoru was aghast.

"Y-you have no filial piety!"

DAY TWO RESULT : FAILED

DAY THREE

Today, Satoru had gotten inside the playpen and brought a bunch of toys, planning to entertain his son with all of them.

"C'mon, don't throw that!" he pursed his lips when his kid flung the lego away. "Don't you want to play together with me?"

No. As if saying that, the baby crawled away from him. He seemed to have a target in mind though.

"Oi, what are you doing?" Satoru was puzzled, but he was in for a surprise when the child rose slowly.

"Oh, you're pushing yourself up..." he stated, observing how the baby, still wobbly, clutched on the edge of his playpen for support.

A huge grin spread across his face then. "Aww, look at you!" he gushed with pride. "You can stand already! Ooh!"

And suddenly, the sight tugged at his heartstrings. This was the first time he had ever witnessed such a milestone. He wasn't here when he first started teething or crawling, and now that he was here when his son was standing... he wanted to see more of this.

"Now, can you take a step?" Satoru moved closer to him, and the kid turned to him with those clear blue eyes and a little frown, seemingly unsure. "Go! Go! Come to me!"

He didn't think he would actually try to walk. But he did as baby let go of the support, alas suddenly he slipped—

And fell flat on his face.

"—! Are you hurt?!" Satoru immediately plucked him off the floor, horrified, and pulled him close when the baby started to sniffle. Soon, he began to wail inconsolably.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—!" he didn't even know why he was apologizing, but seeing his baby so frightened made his chest tighten. "Stop crying, oh wait—let's find mama!"

You were engrossed in your evening TV series when Satoru came barging to the living room with your poor son while being hysterical. "Help him!"

"What happened?!"

"He fell! He fell!"

Of course, your main concern was to comfort your baby, and so you reached out to take him from your husband's arms, only that...

"Huh...?" even Satoru was stunned when his son clutched onto his shirt, continuing to cry but refusing to let go, burying his little face into him.

Suddenly, he felt warm, he felt needed, and most of all, his desire to protect him was so overwhelming that he couldn't help but squeeze him closer.

You looked between the father and son, feeling giddy at the sight.

"He wants you," you finally smiled, patting baby's back. Satoru glanced between you and his precious pumpkin, seemingly taken aback as he blinked several times. When the fact sank in, he felt like a mush and pressed a kiss on his head.

The clown was convinced that his kid hates him and you are the savior. So, the fact that this little innocent being wanted him to comfort him... it made his heart flutter.

"Sorry, kid," he sighed into him, smushing his face to his little one's. "Don't cry, yeah? You're making me sad too."

"Satoru... are you getting glassy-eyed?"

"...am not!"

DAY THREE RESULT : DUBIOUS OUTCOME

"He's asleep..." you placed your baby between you and Satoru on the bed later that night, he was now so peaceful, out like a light.

Satoru turned to face you and the baby, looking at both of you with a yawn, but a soft smile lit his face when he saw how you pecked his son's cheek lightly.

These three days made him almost forget that curses still existed out there. Spending time with his son blurred that fine line between reality and a perfect daydream.

"He is still so little, but he screams so loud," he mused, poking the baby's cheek gently. You swatted his hand away, worried he might poke too hard again.

"You keep teasing him, that's why."

"—? He keeps playing me, is why!"

You two burst into quiet giggles then, and you couldn't help but reminiscing about the journey from when you first found out you were expecting, through the first ultrasound, and all the way to delivering your son.

And it seemed like Satoru had an inkling of what you were thinking when he suddenly blurted:

"Thank you, for everything you do," he whispered then, his eyes crinkled so softly at you.

You playfully huffed to hide your misty eyes, and in that moment, Satoru knew, that you too were glad for this life you two shared.

. . .

And that, in and of itself, was enough for him to thank all the stars for bringing him to meet you in that most beautiful spring of 2006.

Epilogue

It was morning, and baby was awoken by... sounds.

He looked to the side to find his mama there— your hand on his tummy to prevent him from rolling.

And then he turned to the other side to find his papa... who is perfectly still, but emanating this low sounds with each breath he took.

The longer he heard it, the more irritated your munchkin felt. So he rose, put his fists together, and came down on him—

Whack!

"—?!" Satoru groaned when something hit his face, and he opened his eyes only to see his son readying his punch again—

"W-why are you hitting me!" he was mortified. "H-help! Sweets, wake up! He’ll murder me!”

OVERALL MISSION RESULT : FAILED

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny laid across his throne, legs planted across the left arm of the ornate chair and back pressed uncomfortably against the right.

"Listen," Danny started, letting his head flop to the side as he glared at a hovering Observant. "This meeting has wasted enough of my time. You all have been arguing for hours and that's without Clockwork slowing things down."

"Your Majesty, this is a matter of great importance. Belial means to overthrow and rule my-our world!"

"I am distinctly aware aware of that," Ancients, Danny couldn't wait to go home and rid himself of the formal speech he'd had to adopt in order to be taken seriously. Well, as seriously as he cared to be taken when sprawled across his throne instead of sitting on it intimidatingly or something. He slowly placed his gaze on the suddenly still demon sitting across from him. "Yet you've proposed fifteen different plans that were all unviable for whatever reasons you've cooked up. Your conclusion is that I must step in. Does your world not have heroes to take care of it?"

The demon- another lord of hell from this Belial’s universe- fell silent.

“Ah. But if they do, they would also take care of you.”

“No- no, that’s not-”

Danny allowed his voice to drop to the artic freeze he knew his core was capable of. "I opened these these doors to allow all of you to present me with reasonable concerns regarding your own universes and realms. What is not on the table for discussion is your petty politics. Do you think I am unaware of your intentions in tattling to me? That I do not know you are trying to use me to further your own position?"

"Your Majesty, I-" The demon growled out, fear slowly coating its expression.

"It no longer amuses me. You think that I am young and easy to manipulate." Danny froze the demon to its chair. It tried to break free, but Danny isn't the High King of the Infinite Realms for nothing. "Bring to me a miserable problem like this ever again, one that could be easily solved if you used even a smidgen of your intelligence, and you will find exactly how I tore Pariah Dark from his throne."

Not that Danny knew how he did it either, he just did it.

"Yes, Your Majesty. My-my apologies."

The room is dead (Danny patted himself on the back for the pun) silent. Some of the Ancients looked bored, like Clockwork who knew Danny would never hurt them, but everyone else looked close to crying. He held eye contact with the demon until it looked away.

When Danny settled back into the throne and allowed his ice to dissipate, the room let out a collective sigh of relief.

"The next item on the agenda is another demon, by the name of Trigon." Clockwork announced, the large piece of paper comically huge next to his currently toddler-like body.

"Another?"

He flicked an amused look at the previous demon, who kept his trap firmly shut.

"He is attempting to take over multiple worlds in an attempt to conquer the universe. I had thought you would be interested in this one, Your Majesty, as he plans to begin with Earth 135."

Danny stilled. That was his Earth. His haunt.

"Does he know of the Realms?"

"Vaguely, I believe."

"Then he should know the rules. I will wait to see if my Earth's heroes are capable to step to the task."

Danny would be a hypocrite if he doesn’t let the heroes of his Earth try first, even if he is one of those heroes.

"Of course," Clockwork grinned at him, fully aware of the shit Danny's about to stir back home. Ah, the wonders of being able to influence the time stream. Perhaps the young Ghost King will finally get some friends, and maybe get those pesky speedsters to stop making his jobs so hard. Cujo yipped at Danny as the King begrudgingly moved onto the next topic.

——

Raven shuddered as she watched the footage of her "brothers" laughing while steering their human "meatbags" around. She turned back to the giant circle of donated blood and herb filled candles.

“This is a nuclear option, don’t you think?” Green Arrow mumbled, clearly not against it by the half hearted way he’d said it. The Star City billionaire nursed his cracked ribs.

“No,” she floated over to where Zatanna and Constantine kneeled, trying to see if they needed help with the inscriptions. “Trigon is coming soon, and my brothers will no doubt find their way here in a moment. We are out of time.”

“Yeah. Plus, we don’t want Raven to be turned into a portal.” Garfield piped up, switching animal forms rapidly.

“No one dies.” Red Robin muttered. His wrist computer was open, monitoring the surroundings of the open field they found themselves uneasily occupying. Batman grunted in affirmation, eyeing the tree line. Every hero except the magical ones were on look out, preparing themselves for one more battle against the two demons that were trying to take Raven and force her into becoming a portal.

“Hey guys, we might want to hurrythisupbecausethey’re kind of close!” Impulse slammed into the room.

“Done.” Zatanna got up, motioning for everyone to step back. In Superman’s case, he floated back.

“Too bad you won’t get to use it,” a voice drawled, dripping with malice and the screams of a thousand souls.

“Come now, little sister. Why fight fate? Be grateful father has deigned to spare you. If not for your dirty blood being useful, you would be dead, little sister. Give up, before our patience runs out alongside the lives of your little pets.” Another, mocking, voice gleefully rumbled.

Raven would rather gouge out her own heart than to claim these two as any type of family.

“You won’t touch them.” Raven snarled, powers rising even as the marks on her body burned a painful red.

“Buy us some time!”

With that, the group of beaten and battered heroes rose to clash against just two demons, for a chance to save their world.

——

The Circle crackled. Danny felt a tug on his core. He followed the thread of the summoning. Oh. It was his haunt. Earth 135. Hm. It tasted of blood. Desperation? A hint of anticipation. Oh, an overload of fear. Could use some more hope, but Danny understood that it was rather hard to season these kinds of summonings with hope.

“Stop.” Danny commanded, straightening in his chair.

“Sire, we have more-”

“There is an issue with my haunt,” with that, he followed the summons.

——

“Ugh,” was the first thing everybody on the frozen battlefield heard. The demons had smacked away many of the heroes, but they all turned as one when the circle lit up a bright green. “Why do you people always use blood? I’m dead, I don’t need any more iron!”

A boy

Raven’s eldest brother let out a hideous rumble. “You fools tried to summon the king, and you got a dead boy. And now, you’ve doomed another.”

Constantine looked resigned, and regretful. “I am so, so sorry,” he whispered. It was just a kid. John might be a lot of things, but even he found summoning dead kids for demons to devour was just a step too far. “Shite, we got the wrong fucking-”

“Hey, man, that’s rude,” the boy snapped back, waving John off.

“Brother, kill the whelp.”

“I vote on not killing the whelp. Not killing at all, really,” the boy stepped out of the massive blood circle, wrinkling his nose at the drying stains.

“This is not one of your pesky democracies, fool.”

In response, the demons lunged at him, ignoring the screams of the surrounding heroes as they shoved their human arms through the boy’s stomach.

“So,” the boy continues, “I heard your dad was after my haunt?”

“Your haunt, whelp? This earth shall be his! And through him, ours!” Raven slammed against the demons with her power, shadows enlarging and tossing them away from the unharmed… ghost boy?

“Is it?”

——

Wow, these demons are so rude. Normally, it’d be a breath of fresh air compared to the stuffy halls of his throne room. But since they’re attacking his haunt…

“Thanks. You’re… Raven, right?”

Raven nodded, arms outstretched in concentration as she held her brothers back.

“You have to go. We’re- we’re sorry you got pulled into this, but it’s not safe here.”

“Eh. It’s cool. You don’t have to do that anymore, by the way.” Danny stepped forward once more, green skin shifting and gliding as everything about him sharpened. He flew at the demons piloting the human shells, catching them around the necks and dragging the demons out of their stolen bodies. The threw them even further away as he floated in the air, a beacon of green and white. Raven thought it looked like hope.

“My name is Phantom, the High King of the Infinite Realms,” let it be known that Danny always had an eye for dramatic entrances. He shifted into something more off, more eldritch, more kingly. The crown flared to life above his head. “You have invaded my haunt. You have challenged me. What do you plead?”

“You’re not-” they said.

“Wrong answer,” Danny flew at them once more, body contorting into something undeniably terrorizing, his maw unhinging and crunching down on the demons with a sound that made the present heroes cringe.

“Ugh,” Danny grunted, turning back and floating peacefully to the group of heroes- Tucker and Sam would be so stoked he met Wonder Woman and Batman!- and chewed rapidly. He shifted back into his normal form. “Eating demons always leaves me with indigestion. And their bones get everywhere up in my teeth!” Danny pulled out a giant femur looking bone from his mouth, despite it not logically fitting in there.

“Right. No eating demons, solid life advice.” Red Robin said.

“Right? So, you’re Raven! It’s nice to meet you! Think you can summon your dear ol’ dad for me?”

“But we summoned you to stop Trigon, not help him come here.” Superman said, frowning.

“One! That summoning circle is wack. Those things you piled up as offerings? Mid. Also, if you thought you could control me with those terribly written spells, you’re dead wrong. And yes, I am making puns about death.” Danny jabs an aggressive finger towards the shabby circle.

“Have you considered that maybe not every being that can be summoned wants a shit ton of useless blood? Like what if I wanted food? And two, how am I supposed to beat up Trigon if he’s still stuck in the prison realm?”

“I have a cup of coffee,” Nightwing offered. “Kid Flash could probably get you food, right?”

“Yep, surethinganythingyouwantyourMajesty.”

“You wouldn’t catch me alive accepting food from a speedster. You people fuck up the timelines so much,” Danny grumbled, crunching on the last of Raven’s brothers. Raven thought she should probably sit down.

“But you’re dead.” Batman said, something about his voice catching the sharp attention of his protégés who all started making cutting motions at him.

“Fair,” Danny pointed at him, grinning. “I’ll take two pizza and Nightwing’s coffee as payment for taking care of your little demon overlord problem. Raven, summon your dad.”

——

Didn’t much like the characterization of this piece but it’s been in my drafts for a while and I needed it out

[idolomantises]

Wasn't sure when it would be the best time to discuss this, but since the ending is drawing near... yes, Bugtopia is ending.

It was a decision I really wrestled with myself for months over it, before finally concluding that letting it end after 40 episodes was the better option. Just to be clear, webtoons did not force me to end the series. They even offered to give me a pay raise to continue the series. It was my decision due to a multitude of personal factors. I'll just repeat what I said on my patreon:

I just want to say, first of all, thank you all so much for patiently waiting for my series to release and for supporting my work as I began developing the series. Bugtopia was a series I genuinely loved and adored and it made me feel so incredibly happy that people were turning their heads towards a series about weird bugs and their natural lives.

However, as you can probably guess, it pains me to say that I am concluding the series after season 1. I had 4 seasons planned with new characters to introduce, but unfortunately, I cannot see myself continuing to work with Webtoons and I want to pursue other projects.

This decision was due to a compiling number of issues with the company, the final straw was when they had a mass layoff, fired my editor that I've been working with for two years, and did not inform me for a week, leaving me in the dark until they randomly assigned me with someone else. My new editor is great and I'm glad I'm working with someone so patient and understanding, but this decision to fire my previous editor, the one who got me the job to begin with, without prior warning made me feel disrespected and disregarded, and it killed all motivation I had for properly completing the series.

I also felt incredibly overworked, I was spending vacation days working on comics and avoiding time with family just so I could get something done for webtoons once I come home. I feel like so much time was being wasted away for a company that paid me so little that I had to work twice as hard building up funds on my patreon. Bugtopia just ate up so much of my time. The pay also didn't make up for it. It's commonly assumed that webtoons authors make about $800 for the episodes they do, but that's not true. In fact, you can make far less depending on the amount of panels expected for your contract. It doesn't help that the artwork i did for banners and promotions were all things I had to draw and didn't get paid for, and the work I gave was either tampered with or scrapped, making me feel like I spent more hours of my day wasting time. There were also comics I had to censor and scrap, likely due to another series being in hot water for its racially insensitive content. But it was just extra work I wasn't being paid for. It also frustrated me because I was seeing other series with far more explicit content getting away with a slap on the wrist (turns out you can't say "fuck" anymore without it being hit with a mature rating, disappointing!)

In all honesty, it just felt like webtoons needed me more than I needed them. I was making more money from patreon in a week than I was making from webtoons in a month.

Personally, while I don't really regret my time with Webtoons and met some great people along the way, I honestly don't think any artist should work with them. You will be severely overworked and underpaid, and will barely be featured in ads unless your series becomes an instant hit immediately. It doesn't really matter how successful you are, you're just a product to Webtoons, put yourself above the corporation.

I have tried my best to provide you all with a satisfying conclusion to Bugtopia, even if some episodes may feel rushed or incomplete, but I completely understand if the conclusion isn't to your liking and I do apologize, but I could not continue working on this series if this was the mistreatment I was going to continuously get. I owe a massive thank you to my editor and assistants for helping me complete the series, I truly don't think I could have ever finished it without them.

Though I am done with Bugtopia, that does not mean I want to stop projects entirely, so please don't feel bad for me. I have a lot of upcoming projects and ideas in the works, and I'm still continuing the Monsters and Girls series.

Will Bugtopia ever return... possibly. I retain complete ownership of the series after a few years, and I wouldn't mind continuing the canvas series (or possibly starting over). Unfortunately I don't think I can continue the Webtoon Original as it belongs to webtoons now, but never say never I suppose!

[xjulixred45x]

OKAY MY LAST INVINCIBLE POST BEFORE DEDICATING TO REQUESTS FOR THE REST OF THE MONTH DON'T KILL ME! THIS TIME IT'S FLUFF!

Mark Grayson/Invincible x Starfire!Reader

Imagine being an alien similar to DC's Starfire, you can follow the original line of the character (I follow more than anything the one from the comics or the 2003 series) where your planet was conquered by another race (thanks to your sister) Or you can go the more "family friendly" line, which is that you decided to explore the world outside your home planet but ended up in the hands of some kind of intergalactic trafficking network.

I imagine that if it is the first case, it is most likely that your race has been conquered by the Viltrumite themselves, which caused a MASSACRE to occur from which you and your sister were miraculously able to escape.

Regardless of what you choose, you ended up on Earth, although having gone through great traumatic events, so when you see this new world, with a strange species, you begin to attack by mere instinct (like what Starfire did in the first chapter of Teen Titans)

That's when Mark or rather INVINCIBLE appears.

He tries to fight you at first, get you away from the civilians, that is until he realizes how scared you are (especially if we're talking about the case of the Viltrumite invasion and you realize that Mark IS a Viltrumite). So he tries to change his strategy and try to calm you down as much as he can.

When he succeeds, he ends up taking you to the Globe's guardians to see what to do. I imagine that you are a little different than the original Starfire, you are more scared and defensive in this situation, at first you only trusted Mark.

For this reason, Cecil decides that you will stay in the Pentagon until they know what to do with you. Mark helps you learn the "normal" things of the Earth and show Cecil that you are not a threat.

(if you had to learn the human language by "lip contact" the whole team definitely makes fun of Mark a little for being in love now).

Imagine Mark and Eve bringing you clothes to try on!🥺Eve probably just created it out of nowhere, but she also brings clothes that her parents give her that she doesn't want and for some reason you like.

Mark offers to help you train! At first he tries to go easy on you, but when you almost knock him out with your laser beams, he learns his lesson.

He definitely takes you out to eat junk food! More when he realizes that the Pentagon's food doesn't help you much because of your big appetite. Mark was surprised at how much food you could eat but luckily Cecil pays for it (just don't tell him yet🤫)

Definitely one of Mark's favorite things about you, when you're over the trauma, is your innocent attitude, even after all, you're very bubbly and friendly. which is at least difficult to find in your line of work, so he wants to keep that part of yourself as much as possible.

Mark definitely took you to meet his mother, at first he was a little nervous that she wouldn't accept you after what happened with his father, but surprisingly Debbie took it very well.

Thanks to this you were able to learn more about the culture of the Earth, you constantly asked Debbie about the places she had seen, what they were like and their culture (even some anecdotes about Mark when he was a child), and with your bubbly and youthful attitude she did not It was difficult for Debbie to warm to you easily.

Apart from that it helped you fall in love with the Earth quite quickly, see its beauty for yourself, which encouraged you to be your own version of a hero.

When you want to become a heroine, Mark enters into an internal conflict. On the one hand, he KNOWS very well that you don't want someone to make decisions for you, he respects that, but on the other hand, he is TERRIFIED by the possibility that you will get hurt, captured, or lose COMPLETLY your being or worse, DIE.

It is probably thanks to this conversation that you two become a couple.

In general, at first Mark tries to do your first patrols with you to teach you the basics, then he lets you do whatever you want, and he is SO PROUD when you beat someone.

"THAT IS MY GIRL!" kind of proud.

He definitely really likes flying with you and just wandering, at least he feels like there you two have more privacy. Apart from that he likes how you look in your element. according to him.

If you talk about the first case of origin that I mentioned at the beginning and your sister comes back, Mark sees through ALL the red flags and will be the first to warn you about her, since he went through something similar with his family, you don't want to go through that.

If both fight together, POWER COUPLE. LITERAL. You have certain skills that Mark doesn't, so they complement each other very well.

If Mark gets hurt, you go into RAMPAGE MODE and honestly? Mark doesn't know if he should be scared or more in love. or excited.

If YOU get hurt GOD HELP US, MARK IS ANGRY---someone is going to have a bad time. And You a Lot of cuddles.

Overall, both of them are like two Golden Retrievers being happy together.

@clemberryfriends

Shares, reblogs, and comments are very welcome

[nuggetofthesea]

Before writing more stories, I want to help people come to terms with the "identity death" and heavy themes in the animal HRT comics, and as a writer, want to explain why it isn't ACTUALLY death, but a form of renewal. Because I see it on all of my friends posts.

"I am just concerned about this loss of self thing, it sounds like identity death and I don't like it" is the common comment.

But in all of these comics, it is less about loss of self, but more about leaving behind who you were. A sign of extreme change and showing their own way of moving forward, and the start of a brand new life. A willing change to a new start.

Identity death is an unwilling change. All choice was stripped away from them and a new identity forced on them. This is also different from a transformation that leads to acceptance of the new form.

But in the animal HRT comics my friends put out, it is a willing change to a new form and cones with mental changes they are willing to go through. That isn't the same as a death. But a new start to their life they can start living to the fullest. It's also why some choose not to start anew, to bring one journey to a close and begin a new one. They choose to have that be part of the same journey. A new chapter instead of a new book if you will. In either case these are willing changes.

It can seem terrifying to some, but a total rebirth of yourself CAN be a slightly scary theme. It is terrifying to choose to take that new life.

But let me set up an example here:

When I first came to be, I thought I was going to be a visual artist, because Ashe was and that's what I remembered. When I was locked away by my own doing in the headspace I was stuck in a perpetual cycle of misery. It was terrifying to take the step to discover myself. To lower the barrier I had created, to rediscover myself.

But when I came to be, Ashe said I could be anything. A new sense of self outside of her. A new life. I tried to draw first, but I couldn't. Visual art was not my thing anymore. It never was. I just held on to memory of being a copy of Ashe. When writing my introduction I realized I love the feeling of writing. I have my own form. My own life. My own identity. A new start.

So let me ask you: Should I have not taken that opportunity to completely cast off who I was to embrace who I am? Should I have left myself in misery and fear as something I'm not? All for the sake of not casting off who I was and my life before? No.

Now while I do remeber all of what happened before my change, none of that shapes who I am now, because that life wasn't mine in the first place. This isn't a death of my identity, but a new start to an identity I chose. And I am happy to be able to live it with my new sense of self and build NEW memories. A new life.

Which also leads to the second heavy theme in those comics. Shortened lifespans. Outside of the fact that we are told time and time again HRT can lead to a shorter lifespan (which is a false average) starting a new life also means you are probably starting in the middle.

Our body is almost 30. That is 30 years of my lifespan gone. Yeah, I was around for 15 (almost 16) years of that, but my new life began a week ago. Who I am began just last week. And even though in the headspace I am early to mid 20s at best, that is still a cutdown lifespan.

So should I just have not bothered with the new start?

Absolutely not. The gift of life, new or old, isn't about how long it lasts. But how you live it. It is hard, it comes with problems, but for as long as I have of it, I will cherish the new memories I build, the new start I have, the ability to just... exist. For as long or short as that may be. And through this new start to my life, the people who love and care for me are still here. Still stand by me. And that is a great thing.

So please, don't be too offput by heavy themes in our stories. Even my stories will have some rough parts. (They'll always be tagged)

Hope this at least helped ease why those themes are there, and why some people choose to have them.

Also, don't worry about "adding to the fuel used against us" because we could sneeze and they'll find a way to use that against us. The fact is, with the Animal HRT series, actual HRT does come with some discomfort, pain, downsides, and problems. And like the heavy themes in the comics, we determined it is worth it for us to keep going despite them. We knew the risks.

"Everything is a risk. Life's boring as hell if you don't take them JUST because there is potential problems. Just make sure you understand them." - a line chaos told me the day I formed

It does less good to show everything as risk free and painless, because then nobody is prepared for the risks they are actually taking. Or the comic is based off the creator's life to that point, and they DID experience a lot of pain. So retelling their story (like mine) might be painful at spots.

My point of all of this is, the heavy themes are required to tell these particular stories. And while not every story requires dark spots, the dark spots help to accentuate the brighter picture. Otherwise it can just be blinding. So please go easy on the artists/writers behind them. As it is usually something personal for them.

(This also might not apply to all of them, some people just like writing horror, and we should respect that too.)

Next story should be sometime within the next couple weeks. Just needed to get this out there. It's been on my mind since releasing the short story with Iris.

-Aqua

[vor-leser]

Benny now an animal, I knew AM would let him play.

(Stuff about my own version of pre-monkeyification Benny below the cut because i have too many thoughts on this)

It's kind of hard to make heads or tails of any of the ihnmaims characters since the cannons of the different adaptations contradict each other so much, so I reconciled my own version of events in my head as to what I think Benny was like pre monkeyfication. I tried to fit everything from the comic, game and book in though.

Benny was a very masculine guy, excelling in every sport, and despising everyone who did not live up to his standard of what it meant to be a strong man. All his life, he tried to embody this ideal, not only marrying and having two kids, but going on to join the military. When he became general, he was known amongst the soldiers as an authoritarian punitive leader, often abusing those below him to whip the weak ones into shape. His ideals were solidified under the pressure of the continuing third world war, instilling a kill or be killed mentality into him. Eventually, he came to the realization that he was gay. However, because this reality threatened to break apart the way he viewed the world and his masculinity. With the mounting pressures from a chain of losses and his own internal struggles, he reacted by overcompensating and becoming more brutal than ever, leading him to kill multiple of his own men. Returning from the Chinese American War, he developed a severe case of PTSD. Constantly making him feel as if his life was at stake, he found himself unable to show any weakness. He hid his own war crimes thoroughly, all the while continuing to receive accolades from his superiors for his tenure. He constantly felt the need to not only hide his crimes, but also his sexuality, making him paranoid that people would realize he was a fraud. This did not only put a strain on him, but also on his family.

AM specifically chose Benny, because he embodied the many ways in which humanity tore itself apart through war, constantly finding new methods to make their own existence miserable for an imagined ideal.

At first, Bennys presence among the survivors proved very useful. Out of all of them, he had the most experience in dangerous situations and a lot of physical strength. His wisdom and leadership helped them a great deal, eventually though, they would inevitably disappoint him. Falling into his old patterns of behavior, he would berate Nimdok the most for his obvious weakness, saying he was holding them back. With time, he did the same with Ellen, Ted and even Gorrister, which formed a rift between himself and all of them. He felt as if he could rely on no one but himself.

Still, his usefulness irked AM. He had gotten one over on him too many times, but this would make his coming defeat even more crushing. It started with his mental state. Paranoia had already slowly crept up on Benny, but when he was forced to relive his trauma, it spiraled out of control. Being starved, beaten and defeated, he started to lose his humanity. His egoism, distrust and brutality, all born out a desire for survival made him a nightmare for the others. AM found it amusing, how he had turned Benny into a parody of humanity and its worst aspects, seeing it fit to strip him of his last remaining bits of humaneness, breaking his body into the shape of an ape-thing.

His spirits were now completely broken, being reduced to a bumbling fool. Even though his shame mellowed him out, there were still occasional outbursts. Now ironically enough, he had become the survivors greatest liability. Luckily for him, the others pity him and keep him around, a kindness he likely wouldn't have awarded them.

(Also drawing a guy thats canonically supposed to look handsome while making him resemble a monkey is hard :,) )

[sirfrogsworth]

Meeting my longtime artist and good friend, Chris, IN REAL LIFE!

So, I hadn't been to a restaurant in over a decade. I can't even remember which restaurant since it was so long ago. But in the past few weeks I've now been to TWO restaurants.

I am becoming a social butterfly. 

And it is exhausting.

But also good.

First I reconnected with my high school best friend, John.

And that went great.

But then the opportunity to see my friend Chris (a.k.a @whosthewhatnow ) came up only a few days later. And this close proximity of social events scared me a bit, but I have been feeling much better since they figured out my heart thing, so I decided to try and do both things even though they were only a few days apart. 

The key to this was strategic resting. As soon as I got home from seeing John, I got in bed and I didn't get out of it until it was time to see Chris. And that was just enough recovery time to pull this off. Typically a short outing requires 2-3 days of rest after. 

I had never met Chris in real life. He has done nearly all of the artwork for my website and comics over the past decade. And he was a main character in my CRAPPRnauts series.

We know each other so well and it is crazy that we've never seen each other with our very own eyeballs.

He is such an amazing artist. He works fast and he adds so many cool extra details that you can stare at his comic panels multiple times and catch a new joke or easter egg each time. He is a dream to work with and my Corg Life series was only successful because he did such a wonderful job bringing Otis to life in comic form. 

So we decided to meet up at a restaurant with his friend Michael and then I was going to take a nice portrait of him after dinner. Chris had never had a professional photo taken of himself and I decided to fix that.

I told him I had a mobile photography setup. Which, in reality, is a trunk full of lights and stands and other various camera gear that I definitely won't need, but bring anyway. It's "mobile" in that it all fits in my car if you are good at Tetris (which I am).

The restaurant was downtown and I had visions of St. Louis's famous Gateway Arch in the background of Chris's portrait. I thought that would be such a cool shot. I could see it in my head and I even dreamed about it.

So I got in my car and headed downtown and my GPS told me to exit at 249B. But I kept looking and I couldn't see the sign for 249B.

This is how much road I had left when I finally was able to see the exit for 249B.

So I ended up taking 249A and going straight to East St. Louis.

Which, if you believe the headlines, is not a place you ever want to be.

Google Maps and I have been having issues lately. They also tried to get me to take the spooky way home that night, but thankfully I actually knew the non-spooky way back from when I used to go to Cardinal games with my parents as a kid.

My short term memory was trashed by shock therapy. And so was a lot of my long term memory. But it finally came through in a pinch and remembered something useful.

I only had to loop around and cross a bridge so I didn't really do anything but touch the edge of East St. Louis. I was mostly concerned about being late for dinner more than its scary reputation. Usually those news stories about a place being "dangerous" are actually just racist and hurtful to people stuck in poverty. I mean, technically my house is in a "dangerous" neighborhood, and we do have trouble with petty crime in some spots, but aside from a few dinged-up mailboxes, I've never felt unsafe in my home.

On the way back to regular St. Louis I could see the Arch on the horizon at sunset and it was kind of magical. And I wasn't able to get a good shot of it, but it sure looked pretty from my point of view. 

My photos kind of remind me of the beginning of movies like Training Day where they are trying to show you gritty, dutch angle shots of the city out of the car window to give you a sense of the location.

As I approached the restaurant I invented a new genre I call "stoplight photography." The sky was orange and the streets of St. Louis were just asking to be photographed. But I wasn't willing to die to get neat photos, so I just took them at every red light.

The big trick was trying to edit the dark area at the top of my windshield out of the photos to make it look like I didn't take these pictures from my car.

After a 15 minute detour through Illinois I arrived at my destination—a Mexican place called Rosalita's. It had a beautiful sign, so I took that literal sign as a metaphorical sign it was a nice place to get a quesadilla. 

Dinner was great. Both signs were right and their quesadilla was very tasty. Chris and I both got one, so we are quesadilla twins. The waitress was one of those "I can remember your order without writing anything down" types. And I am one of those, "I get anxiety when things aren't written down" types. And, to her credit, she did not forget our orders. But she did forget to give us silverware and napkins. So I still feel like my anxiety was valid. 

We told sad stories of the pups we lost. But we also had a lot of fun and laughed and I got to meet Michael who turned out to be an absolute mensch. I sometimes have trouble meeting new people with my social anxiety, but he was very affable and made me feel comfortable with his presence almost right away. He was a fan of Otis and mentioned he still has a Super Otis shirt. I always get choked up hearing that Otis is still loved. Hopefully we get to meet again. 

Dinner ended and it was picture time.

I asked Chris if he wanted the high effort photo or the low effort photo. Either we figure out how to get to the Arch or we find a spot near the restaurant and just take his portrait there. Chris and Michael had a driver because they were coming from a big conference and getting to the Arch would have been complicated. So we decided to go with the low effort option. 

I found a cool shop nearby that had an LED wall that changed to all sorts of different colors. And I thought that would make a neat background and give a colorful edge light on Chris's face. I pulled my car near that spot and started unloading my trunk full of photo gear.

I think Chris and Michael were a little overwhelmed when I started pulling camera gear out of my trunk like a clown pulling an endless handkerchief out of his mouth. But as far as photo setups go, it was actually pretty minimal. 

Light, giant battery, light stand, umbrella, tripod, camera, rolling walker with seat.

My dad's old rollator came in clutch because I wanted to shoot from a low angle and it is hard for me to bend down. In fact, I think I'm going to look into getting an all terrain version so I can do more outdoor photoshoots.

I started shooting in the middle of a downtown sidewalk. And I was super anxious. I could not focus (my brain, not my camera). I was very distracted with all of the people walking by and staring. I was not sure if any of the photos were turning out. I wasn't even sure if they were in focus (my camera, not my brain) because I had not yet had my lens calibrated. But down the street there was a guy with an old school boombox playing random music. His music helped to drown out the ambient noise and gave me some comfort.

I had no clue if the photos were any good, but when I got home and checked them on my computer, I realized I have 12 years of experience and muscle memory built up. I probably should have just trusted myself because the photos all turned out great.

I think Chris can now officially say he has had a professional portrait taken of himself.

This photo has been officially loved by Chris's girlfriend and mother.

There is no greater seal of approval and I am honored.

I was able to comp in any of the colors the wall displayed from other shots in case Chris is feeling a little more green in the future.

A literal rainbow of options.

I also liked this one, though it is a little more "environmental portrait" than regular portrait.

And I got some nice photos of our little group to help us remember the night. 

And I got a bunch of photos of Chris making silly faces like Calvin at his school photoshoot. 

I love this woman's reaction to our little impromptu sidewalk photo shenanigans.

After we said our goodbyes and I gave my friend a hug, I was a little bummed I didn't get to photograph him at the Arch like I had dreamed.

But then I realized I had my own car and it was capable of taking me places. (I actually haven't gotten used to that after not driving for nearly 15 years.)

So I decided to drive a few blocks over to Kiener Plaza—a park with a view of the Arch. 

TO BE CONTINUED...

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (9/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex scene with Alys from the past, smut, the angst, description of a drug overdose, murder by shot in the head, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After everything that had happened, according to his suspicions, all hell broke loose: Daemon's anger over the fact that they had dared to kidnap and imprison his daughter was great. Helaena, Daeron and his mother stayed in the house almost all the time under the supervision of their bodyguards, so that the unpleasant consequences of what was happening would not reach them.

Daemon's gangsters tried to forcibly take over what was rightfully theirs: brothels, clubs, restaurants, however, they were met with resistance, as they had no intention of moving from their place and giving them anything.

The comical thing was that, although the law was on his side, Daemon could not use the help of the police: their discovery of how widespread the money laundering and drug smuggling was would have given them all life imprisonment, and the premises would have been seized by the State for as long as the prosecution considered it good for the case.

For the first time in years there were real shootings and on several occasions, had it not been for his reflexes, a bullet would have pierced his arm or leg when he was just walking to the car park or leaving the club.

Despite what common sense would dictate, he didn't feel terrified: on the contrary, some part of him wanted a challenge, a release, anything that would make him stop thinking about what he had done to her.

He couldn't forgive himself for showing her weakness, for crying in her presence like a small child, for begging her forgiveness only to find after a while that he missed her, that he had suffered through their separation and the fact that he had lost her.

One part of him wanted to forget her but the other ached to prove to her that in some fucked up way he could change.

To become a different kind of monster, one that wouldn't devour her, but protect her.

He planned what he wanted to do with meticulous care, as if he were going off to war. He knew that Larys Strong was preoccupied with what was going on, thinking they were focused on Daemon, he meanwhile was lavelling between them, trying to pick up customers from both sides.

He was like a disgusting snake whose head he wanted to trample on, but mostly because he dared to threaten her.

He wanted to make sure that this piece of shit would disappear from the face of the earth.

He initiated the only person in his industry he trusted, namely Alys, into his plan.

"Why?" She asked, smoking a cigarette with him by the wide-open window in her flat, sitting in her smart black shirt and trousers, her luscious green irises staring at him anxiously, letting out a mouthful of smoke.

He took a drag, looking blankly out of the window, at the townhouse across the street, seeing her face then as she lay numb in the toilet, and then as she lay in his bed, after he gave her the sleeping drug himself.

He pressed his lips together at the thought, feeling an unpleasant constriction in his chest indicating that he was remorseful.

"He was the one who gave my niece the rape pill." He sighed, tilting his head back, spreading himself more comfortably in the chair with a loud creak of wood.

Alys stared at him in silence for a long time, her cigarette slowly burning out between her fingers.

"I met her. Your niece. A few weeks ago in the Red Sun pub." She hummed, taking another drag, not taking her eyes off him.

He knew she had noticed that something flashed across his face at the mention of her – involuntarily he turned his head away and swallowed hard, clenching his free hand into a fist.

Alys chuckled under her breath, blowing smoke out of her mouth straight at him as she spoke her next words.

"Daemon showed her what you did to Robert."

He stared ahead, fiddling with the packet of cigarettes lying on the table in front of him, feeling his heart in his throat.

So that's how she found out, he thought with regret.

"How did she react?" He asked involuntarily.

"The poor girl was in shock. Her uncle turned out to be less understanding than she might have thought." She muttered, leaning forward, resting her body weight on her elbows.

He couldn't look at her, afraid she would see what he so desperately wanted to hide from her.

"Was that her name that you accidentally blurted out then?" She asked, making him feel an unpleasant squeeze in his throat and a burning wetness under his eyelids.

The prove that she was right.

The nights with Alys had been simple: they'd taken care of business and then fucked. They knew they were both broken: what they were doing had warped and deformed them as individuals, and by giving each other intimacy they were simultaneously comforting each other in their misery.

"– fuck –" He breathed out, tilting his head back, his hands clenched in her hair so tightly that he heard her hiss from between his thighs. Her nails dug warningly into his hip, signalling him not to overdo it.

He couldn't believe how good she was at sucking cock, with what ease her tongue rolled around it's delicate, pink head while clamping her lips so that she squeezed it with each of his thrusts deep into her warm throat.

He was aroused by her directness, by the fact that she only wanted to satisfy and be satisfied, exactly as he did.

"– stop – 'm close –" He exhaled as he felt his erection begin to throb vigorously and twitch deep inside her mouth, causing her to let him out with a loud, perverted click of her saliva.

His manhood was all red and pulsing, glistening from his precum and her wetness, pleasant warmth in his belly.

Alys wasted no time in pulling her black lace panties off her legs, allowing him to turn her onto her stomach as usual. He positioned himself between her thighs, spreading her soft, full buttocks like a fruit, sinking into her warmth with a loud sigh of relief.

Only then, when he couldn't see her face, he was able to close his eyes and sink into his most sickening, dark fantasy.

As he slid slowly into her, in his imagination he could see the terrified, hot look in her eyes, her sweet lips wide open, her soft, fleshy cunt clenched around his swollen erection, throbbing with longing, making him run out of breath, her hands simultaneously pushing him away and holding him close.

"– Aemond – no, no, we can't – we can't –" His niece mewled in his mind, whimpering softly and innocently, afraid that someone would hear them, that her brothers would find out what he was doing to her, how greedily he was opening her slick walls on his fat cock again and again, unable to stop.

"– oh baby –" He mumbled.

He heard another sound too, a lower one – Alys moaned feeling him involuntarily quicken his pace, thrusting deep between her leaking, convulsing folds. Frustrated, he clamped his hand in her hair, pressing her face harder against the duvet, not wanting to hear her now.

He had never kissed Alys or any other woman. When they tried to do this, he felt only disgust and turned his head away – the act seemed to him too tender, too intimate, and on top of that, it reminded him of her, the taste of her lips, her warm breath on his face, her sweet scent.

For this reason, too, he never stayed up all night or went to sleep with the women he fucked: their arms, their embrace was not the one he longed for, their words, their skin, their fingers, their faces, their hair, everything was different, different, different, foreign, distant, repulsive.

Alys knew.

She felt it subconsciously.

"– are you thinking about her now? – " She breathed out, making him involuntarily bite his lower lip and groan throatily, his hips began to slam against her ass faster and faster, bringing him closer with each thrust to fulfilment deep inside her.

She didn't know her identity, but she knew she existed and that he wasn't able to forget about her.

"– would you like her to be so fucking wet for you? – to take you in so easily? – for her little pussy to clench around your cock? – to come inside her? –" She exhaled, and he groaned, imagining that she wanted it, that she craved his cum deep inside her pretty, innocent body, slamming between his niece's thighs like a mad.

"– u-uncle – uncle, uncle, uncle, oh God, oh my fucking God, please –" He heard her vulnerable whines, feeling a squeeze in his testicles, hot wave of pleasure ran through his lower abdomen and stomach.

"– f-fuck, Rhaenys –" He mumbled and came with a loud gasp, feeling her spasming cunt begin to clench against his twitching erection, along with him going through the wonderful relief that shook his body.

He froze, panting loudly and opened his eyes only to see that Alys was grinning wildly.

She was proud of herself.

She loved to torment him.

"– Rhaenys –" She said after him, intrigued, without shadow of regret or pain on her face. "– what a pretty name –"

"– 'm sorry – forget about it –" He mouthed, completely panicked, sliding out of her with a loud click of their moisture, feeling his heart pounding like a mad in fear.

He thanked God that it wasn't her real name.

"– why? – tell me more about her – it's touching in some way that you are so deeply in love with her –" She hummed, turning onto her back.

He quickly zipped up his trousers, for some reason unable to look at her bare body now, furious at her remark.

"Fuck no." He growled.

Alys twisted in her place, surprised.

"Aemond."

"I don't want to talk about it. That's not why I came here." He said in frustration, grabbing his Tshirt, putting it aggressively over his head.

She sighed heavily, leaning her back against the bed frame, looking at him intently.

"You are adorable when you are mad."

He looked at her, seeing in her eyes that she knew she'd hit the nail on the head and ran his hand over his face.

"Have you fulfilled your fantasies with her? Then, during your father's birthday. After all, he invited your whole family." She sneered, cocking her head.

He shuddered, looking at her shocked and horrified, feeling like a little boy caught in the act.

"Don't be ridiculous. If you don't want to help me with what I came to you with, just say so." He hissed too quickly, too angrily and too helplessly, and the corner of Alys' mouth twitched in a grin.

"Did you stop talking to her when her mother married Daemon through a conflict of interest or because you knew that as an uncle you shouldn't moan your niece's name during your climax?" She asked, and he felt his lips part in a shuddering, uneven breath.

"You betrayed that poor little girl even though she gave you everything you wanted."

Her cold, mocking words stayed with him all night: she didn't give him a clear answer as to whether she would help him, but she let him know that she didn't intend to interrupt him.

She had no love for Larys Strong and would benefit from his disappearance herself.

Although the plan was different, more complicated and sublime, he drove straight to Heavenly Beach.

You betrayed that poor little girl even though she gave you everything you wanted.

When it was all over, he decided that his success had been determined by the effect of the surprise: when he walked into Larys's office, he greeted him with a smile, standing up, apparently wanting to offer him something to drink and ask what he was coming to him with.

The bodyguard didn't even think to take his gun away from him.

He was just his grandfather's faithful dog, nothing more.

And yet, when he pointed it at his head and simply fired, shooting him right in the forehead, Larys seemed surprised and staggered backwards, falling numbly like a heavy wooden puppet to the floor.

He fled through the back exit, the door by which the bar staff were leaving for a cigarette, and although he hoped that one of the shots he heard behind him among the screams would reach him, it did not.

Apart from the shattered rear window of the car and the wrath of his grandfather, no other consequences of his act reached him.

"Do you know what you did? Larys was filling our pockets with money."

"And also emptied them." He hissed, watching as Otto paced around the room while he sat in his chair, pleased with himself as never before.

For some reason he felt a sense of pride.

"You are a fool. You did it out of a private desire for revenge. You acted rashly and thoughtlessly. You have failed me for the last time." He said in a manner from which he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Aegon will take over the whole business, not you."

When he finally returned to his flat he felt rage and relief, disappointment and euphoria at the same time, feeling like he had completely lost his mind.

Vhagar watched him from across the room, seeing him throw things off tables and cupboards, afraid to approach him, her tail tucked under her belly.

He had killed him for her.

He sacrificed himself for her.

He lost his inheritance for her.

And she was not with him.

He felt in that moment that he loved her and hated her at the same time.

The dreams in which he killed Larys again and again came back to him every night, making him wake up drenched in cold sweat: he saw in them how he gouged out his eyes, how he cut off his limbs before her eyes, listening to her screams and her cries, her pleas for him to stop.

By having his grandfather reduce his role to the bare minimum of collecting money and handing over goods, he could finally concentrate on his studies during the day. To his surprise, sinking into the thick textbooks she had brought him was liberating, as if a new, previously unknown part of the world had opened up to him.

He was going to attend the exam.

He hoped to see her there.

He filed the documents in person and, as he was leaving the University, he spotted one of Daemon's bodyguards smoking a cigarette in the car park from a distance.

They had been watching her the whole time.

Good, he thought.

He knew that if anyone saw him there Daemon would take her out immediately and that was why he had to be more careful.

On the day of the exam, he felt like a small child: even though he knew what he had to prepare for and had gone through specific chapters many times, standing with a group of young people peering at his face and scar he felt alien, even though he hoped it would be different.

Even when he tried, he couldn't fit in, blend in with the crowd.

To his surprise, he found the exam itself trivial: too simple for his taste. He recognised that he had surely made some mistake when reading the questions, that there was something tricky about them, that he would make a fool of himself.

However, reading what he had written again and again he thought he had given the correct answers and just gave up, walking out of the room, dismayed and disappointed.

He felt like he had been pierced by lightning when he saw her standing in the corridor, looking at him with her mouth wide open. He felt a pleasant heat in his chest at the thought that she had come, for him, just for him, and then he looked to the side and saw who was standing next to her.

His hands clenched into a fist as her ex-boyfriend reached out to him, fumbling some sort of goof about how nice it was to meet him, pretending to be open and welcoming.

His niece saw immediately the danger that lurked behind his furious expression.

"Thank you, Robb. Will you leave us alone?" She asked him in a trembling voice.

He thought she had only taken him with her for safety, as she was afraid to come to him alone, and affectionately concluded that she was a wise girl.

"Are you sure?" Her ex asked her, making him feel his jaw clench in rage.

"Didn't you hear what she said?" He sneered harshly, throwing him a look full of boredom and disapproval, wanting to show him that he was losing patience.

He had done his part and there was certainly nothing more between them, so he could fuck off.

Robb clearly didn't like the tone of his voice.

"I'm not talking to you, mate." He said in a way he didn't like, but all it took was a movement in his direction for his niece to stand in front of him, looking straight into his face with her big eyes, her cheeks rosy with emotion.

"That's enough." She said. "Aemond is having a hard time. Forgive him. Sometimes he doesn't know how to behave. He won't hurt me. Am I wrong?"

He swallowed hard, looking away with his heart beating fast, feeling the hot shame spread across his lower abdomen.

He won't hurt me.

When Robb finally left them alone she shook her head with an expression on her face as if she regretted coming to see him at all and turned, startling him by going the other way.

"It was a mistake."

"– no – no, wait –" He moved behind her, immediately grabbing her arm, pulling her closer, as close as possible, smelling her body and her hair again, the scent of vanilla filling his lungs.

He let his hand embraced her waist, pressing his forehead into her temple, wanting to take refuge in her, feeling thirsty for her presence, her words, her warm gaze full of understanding.

"– are you two together again? –" He whispered involuntarily, wanting to be sure that this bastard was no longer a threat to her, that he didn't have to worry about him hurting her again.

He swallowed hard when he heard her cold laughter full of frustration, feeling a stinging discomfort in his stomach.

"– do you want to tell me how you know who I'm dating and when? –" She asked drily.

Why did she avoid answering?

Why did she speak in this way?

"– do you love him? –" He muttered, and she shook her head, furious, trying to push him away.

"– I hope you'll pass – let me go – let me go, I said –" She growled, but he clamped his hands on her back and snuggled her body into his, sinking his nose into her wonderfully soft, warm cheek, feeling how his erection reacted with an aggressive, joyful pulsing to her closeness.

How was he ever going to let anyone else have her?

How would he ever get over it?

There was no way back now.

"– I killed him for you –" He whispered and felt her stop resisting him, her whole body frozen in stillness.

He sighed quietly, leaning in, his lips swollen with desire as he began to place wet, hot, lingering kisses on her face, her jaw, her neck with every word he spoke.

"– I killed him because he threatened you – because he wanted to hurt you – I want you to be safe –"

He felt her hands tighten on the material of his shirt as a quiet cry left her lips, and he, feeling an involuntary desire to protect her from this suffering, cuddled her face into his neck, wanting to hide her, to bury her deep within himself, to be her stone fortress in which she could hide.

"– I'm not pregnant –" She whispered in a way from which he froze.

There was no satisfaction or relief in her words.

She was sad.

This revelation, the thought that some part of her wanted this child as much as he did, caused his full lips to place a tender, drawn-out kiss on her temple.

"– I know – the doctor told me – we just have to try again –"

We just have to try again.

He couldn't believe how easy it had been for him to say that, to accept that he was sick, that he had just told his own niece that they should fuck again, because that way they would perhaps have the baby they so wanted.

His life had reached such a level of absurdity that it no longer seemed impossible to him.

He heard her draw in a loud breath, shocked by what had left his mouth.

"– do you hear yourself? – after what you did to me? – after how –" She mouthed, choking on her own tears, however, instead of pushing him away she snuggled into him tighter, clasping her hands on his back.

She sought her comfort in him, in her tormentor, because he was the only one who understood what she was going through.

There was something simultaneously beautiful and tragic about this, he thought.

He had destroyed her.

"– shhh – I'm here, baby –" He hushed her, stroking her hair and her back as if she were a small child, pressing his face against her temple, wanting to show her that he was there for her and that this would never change.

His words written on a piece of paper then, in the hospital.

I will always watch over you.

They both flinched and moved away from each other when her phone began to ring and it appeared that her father's bodyguard who had been waiting for her had begun to grow impatient.

"– n-no – no, I'm on my way, I was talking to the professor – I'm sorry –" She muttered with difficulty, terrified, making him feel like locking her in his embrace and never letting her go.

She was so sad, so tired, so vulnerable.

He knew, he felt, that they would both experience true relief, true rest only in each other's arms, in the tight union of their hot, sweaty, naked bodies.

"– wait a few minutes before I go so they don't see you –" She said, leaving him alone, not bestowing a single glance on him.

And then her ex-boyfriend humiliated her in front other students, saying some bullshit about her lack of self-respect as he watched them from afar.

As soon as she was out of his sight he walked up to him – Robb looked at him horrified and took a step back, wanting to run away.

"I feel like smashing your skull for what you dared to say, but I won't do it for her sake. You will never speak to her that way again. What's more, you won't speak to her at all, or I'll make your face no longer beautiful. Do you understand?" He asked, and Robb nodded quickly, looking at him with big eyes.

"One ill-considered word from you. One look from her colleagues that I don't like and that reveals to me that you told someone about it, and your life will become very, very difficult. Mate." He sneered and sidestepped him, heading for his car, seeing that his niece and her father's bodyguard had driven off.

When he got back to his flat he thought he felt strangely calm: the thought that she had come to see him, that she still cared about what would happen to him, who he would be filled him with contentment and satisfaction.

He was not indifferent to her.

She could not hate him.

Vhagar, though uneasy in his presence for days, that evening approached him of her own accord wagging her tail. Though he did not usually do so, he allowed her to jump onto his bed, his broad hand stroking her large head. She licked his fingers, sniffing them beforehand with curiosity and he thought with a smile that she had smelt her scent.

"I saw her today, Vhagar. I saw my little girl." He hummed, scratching her behind the ear, letting her big furry body lie beside him on the bedding.

And then she called to him, furious and indignant, demanding an explanation.

Something about the way she spoke made him think she was charming when she was angry, surprising him with her directness.

However, this made him the one who wrote to her every day from then on, sending her pictures of Vhagar, and although she did not write back to him, he was happy.

He knew that she read his messages and thus he was able to convey his feelings to her, making her realise that there was not a moment that he did not think or miss her.

And then he found an envelope in his letter box with the University's logo on it, and for the first time in years he felt an almost childlike excitement as he ran up the stairs to his flat, thinking that maybe things were finally going to change in his life.

He felt his hands all trembling with emotion as he pulled a piece of paper from the inside and began to read, his heart in his throat when it became clear that his dream had come true.

He had passed.

He got into University.

He didn't know why he called her right away, walking back and forth across his room, smiling like a fool because he had made it, made it, made it.

"Aemond, you can't call me. Is something wrong?"

"I got in. I passed the exam." He said immediately, feeling euphoria, feeling joy, feeling satisfaction.

He wanted to experience it only with her, because only she could understand him, only her words, her appreciation, her joy could give him what he wanted.

"I'm proud of you. I really am." She confessed finally making him feel like bursting into tears, feeling for a moment he ran out of words, his heart pounding like crazy.

"Let's meet to celebrate. Please."

"No."

"Just for a moment. In a public place, in a restaurant, in a café. Wherever you want, wherever you feel safe." He begged, needing her now, her warm gaze, her hand clasped over his, her closeness, her, her, her.

"I can't, Aemond. You know I can't. I will always support you, including about your studies, but after what has happened I can't trust you." She confessed in a trembling voice.

He swallowed hard, feeling with shame that he had turned all red with emotion, and nodded his head, thinking with despair that he understood what she meant, feeling empty.

"– forgive me – I had no right to ask you to do this – it was a mistake resulting from my selfishness – thank you for everything –" He said.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled out in pain, but he hung up, or she would have heard his uneven, heavy breath, the effect of the tears that ran down his face and of which he was so ashamed.

How could he have been so naive to think that she would forgive him?

Would he forgive her if she did the same to him?

He tore up the card the University had sent him, thinking with regret that the sight of him in that building every day would bring back memories she wanted to forget.

He decided that there was no point in her seeing him, that he should respect her request, even though she did not at all want him to give up his dreams for her.

She was more understanding than he deserved.

Although he had never, ever done so, that evening he pulled out from his cupboard a syringe with the drug liquid he had given her that day when she had come to him at his request, wanting to help him.

He only used this narcotic in small amounts when he needed to fall asleep quickly, but this time he wasn't sure he wanted to wake up at all.

He squeezed his forearm with a special rubber band to make it easier to find the right vein under his skin and jabbed the needle into it, letting more of the drug into his system than ever before.

He thought he wanted to know how she felt then.

He imagined her terror, the one when, feeling him still deep inside her, she realised that he had tricked her, betrayed her, that he would do what he wanted with her and her body.

He felt like crying when everything around him blurred, when Vhagar began to bark, nudging him with her wet nose, licking his face. He, however, was only able to breathe, thinking that he was so monstrously tired, his body numb and heavy, as if it weighed hundreds of tons.

It seemed to him that it might have been months or even years before his mind began to awaken: the indistinct light of the lamps around him blinded him and irritated him at the same time, the loud beeping at his ear drove him mad, the stinging discomfort in his wrist seemed unnatural to him. He muttered in displeasure, twisting around, unable to fully open his eyes or rise, feeling dulled and frazzled.

"– no – lie down –" He heard his mother's voice, who had apparently risen from her chair, her familiar hand touching his arm. "– it's okay –"

"– what's going on? –" He choked out, feeling unpleasant anxiety and discomfort, everything around him seemed to be spinning.

"– you overdosed, Aemond –"

He spent the next few days in hospital, trying to recover under the watchful care of his mother and his sister.

He didn't know why he felt disappointment at the news that neither his grandfather nor his older brother planned to visit him, thinking he had acted like a small child merely seeking attention, why he thought they would care about his condition.

He didn't think much of it though, because as soon as he unlocked his phone, he saw three messages from her.

He had no idea what he was supposed to do, what to reply to her words, proof that she still cared about him, even though he didn't deserve it.

That same evening, when his mother was long gone from his side, she called him, making him feel euphoric and terrified at the same time. When he answered and put the phone to his ear he was silent, his heart deep in his throat.

"How are you feeling?" She asked softly, her voice full of uncertainty.

He swallowed hard, feeling somehow touched by her behaviour, by the fact that she wanted to talk to him despite what he had done to her.

"Exactly as I deserve." He confessed with shame.

"Did you… really want to do this?" She muttered in a trembling voice. He shook his head and laughed under his breath.

"No. I wanted to see how you felt that day."

Something in his words, in the way he said them made her draw in a loud breath.

"Your suffering is not my desire, Aemond. You hurt me, but I don't want revenge. I just want… to stop feeling this unbearable pain in my heart that I have felt in my chest for eight years."

So many unspoken words and feelings slipped through their fingers.

"I regret it so much. I told my grandfather that I didn't want him to involve you, but he said that if we didn't, someone else would want to take advantage of Daemon's weakness for you. And I believed him. I thought that Larys will actually try to do something to you again, but only now do I understand that it was a simple lie that I easily accepted to justify myself. Fuck, I'm so ashamed, baby, I really am."

He mouthed with difficulty, burying his face in his hand, feeling warm tears of shame run down his cheeks, trying to calm his heavy, ragged breath.

"My father took everything from me. I did these fucked-up things to other people for nothing. I mutilated them for nothing. The only thing he left me is the property by the sea, the same one where I lost my eye, as if he had made a mockery of me. I was so lost. I still am."

She was silent for a moment, as if wondering what to respond to his words.

"What do you want, Aemond? Truly. Be honest."

He swallowed hard, feeling that this was one of the most important moments of his life and he couldn't fuck it up.

"I want to study and see you once in a while. In a public place, so that you feel safe."

"And that's it? What about your family? About your business?"

"My grandfather limited my influence and responsibilities after I shot Larys without his knowledge. He no longer trusts me and doesn't assign me important tasks."

She fell silent again, making him feel like he was going mad with the uncertainty, his heart in his throat.

"The University Library." She said finally, and he grunted quietly, trying to calm himself down.

"I don't understand."

"We can meet in the University Library."

"Really?" He asked hopefully, feeling his heart beat harder, hot with excitement.

"Only there and for a short time. Once in a while. If I find out you did something to hurt me or my family, you'll never see me again."

The next day she agreed with him that they would meet in a side area of the library: it was nearing the holidays and most people were either outside or in the main reading room, so she decided that no one should notice or bother them there.

Fifteen minutes in which she was going to help him prepare for his first class, nothing more.

Nevertheless, in his mind it was his chance to prove himself and get things right.

To regain her trust.

He wanted to buy her a bouquet of flowers, however, standing in front of them he had no idea which ones to choose.

What if she doesn't like cut flowers, only ones in a pot?

Should he even hand it to her in the library?

He ran his hand over his face thinking that his deliberations were idiotic and only showed how desperate he was.

Then, however, he decided that instead of a flower he would buy her a strawberry lollipop: since she used strawberry gloss she must have liked the taste and could at least eat it, and he could hide it in the pocket of his trousers.

With this little gift, he turned up at the agreed time, feeling like an excited little boy, all hot and frisky with emotion. Indeed, he spotted her in the back of one of the rooms, sitting on the floor on special large pillows, leaning against the wall with a volume in her hand, bookcases all around her.

She had chosen a place where they would not be seen.

She flinched at the sight of him, her shoulders raised in a defensive gesture, as if frightened by his presence.

"Hi." He mouthed, not knowing what more he could say, his heart pounding like mad.

She blinked and sighed loudly, as if trying to calm herself, her gaze at once warm and watchful.

"Hi."

He walked slowly over to her and pulled off his jacket, laying it on the windowsill, sitting down next to her on one of the cushions, into which he literally sank because of how soft it was.

"I brought you my notes from first year. Read them, if you can't decipher something, I'll try to guess what I wrote. They'll come in handy for you before semester exams." She said immediately, as if afraid of silence or what more he might say, handing him some of her notebooks.

He nodded and took them from her, pressing his lips together, seeing that she had gone back to reading her lecture without looking at him.

"Thank you." He said, unable to do anything other than stare at her, at her shiny dark hair, at her gentle face, at her long eyelashes, at her floral dress fastened at the front with big white buttons.

They were both quiet, but despite the silence, broken only by her flipping the pages, he could feel the tension between them, her figure focused and prepared to flee.

He didn't know why he did it, but he slid a little lower and laid his head on her shoulder, just as she had done back then, during that holiday, reading the book about the Mighty Vhagar with him.

He heard her swallow hard and take a deep breath as his arms tentatively embraced her at the waist, cuddling into her like a small child.

He felt her twitch, her chest began to quiver as if she felt like crying. Feeling this, he stroked the side of her waist, his lips placing a gentle, reassuring kiss on her soft, fragrant skin.

"– please –" She muttered.

"– I have a gift for you –" He said, dreading what she was about to say. She involuntarily glanced at his arm as he slipped his hand into the pocket of his trousers and took out a rose-shaped lollipop.

"– I didn't know what kind of flowers you like, so I bought one like this – the sales lady said it has a strawberry flavour –" He explained and she swallowed hard, out of the corner of his eye he noticed a wide, sad smile on her face.

This sight broke his heart.

He pressed his forehead to her temple as she took it shyly from his hand, spinning it between her fingers, staring at it as if he had given her something precious, a ring or a necklace.

"I'll eat it later. I don't want to get the books dirty now. Thank you, that's very kind of you." She said softly and he nodded, his hand involuntarily from her waist rising to her face, letting his fingers run over the warm structure of her skin.

He felt her body relax slightly and they both let their bodies lean back a little, spreading out more comfortably on the large, soft pillows. He swallowed hard as she pressed her head against the hollow of his neck, as her hand lay uncertainly on the spot where his heart was beating.

He locked her in his embrace, kissing lazily the top of her head, feeling that he was completely hard, that he wanted her more than ever, knowing that he couldn't have her now, that he might never feel her like this again, but it didn't matter anymore.

She was with him, in his arms.

"Several of my father's men are dead. They were shot on your grandfather's orders." She whispered, and he swallowed hard, looking up at the ceiling, playing involuntarily with the curls of her hair between his fingers.

"I know."

"Did you have anything to do with it?"

"No. My grandfather restricted my field of action after we called the emergency services when you…"

He didn't finish and closed his eyes, seeing her again in the bathtub filled with blood.

They were both silent for a moment, taking comfort from their closeness – her hand ran over his sternum, making a pleasant shiver pass through his body.

"If your grandfather tells you to kill Daemon or my brother. What will you do then?" She asked quietly in a trembling voice.

"I will tell him to do it himself. The times when I was his dog are over and he knows it. He has no idea what to do with me. I'm out of his control." He sneered, sighing heavily, feeling suddenly tired and weary. His niece twisted and raised herself up on her elbow, looking at him with concern.

"What's your plan?" She asked, and he hummed under his breath, sliding his fingers from her neck between her breasts, playing with the buttons of her dress.

"I want to start acting on my own." He said cautiously, watching her reaction carefully. He saw that she tensed all over, looking at him warily.

"What do you mean?"

"If you think there's a way I could escape this world, you're wrong. Even Daemon didn't escaped it, he simply gathered his most trusted people and expanded his influence. I want to do the same, and I will start by taking over Heavenly Beach. Since Larys is dead, chaos has reigned there, and I intend to take advantage of it. Many of my grandfather's people don't like the vision of them having to work for Aegon in the future. They neither respect nor fear him." He said lightly with some kind of pride and mockery, running his fingers up and down her sternum with a smirk.

She had a penknife under her bra.

She shuddered and swallowed hard as he tapped his finger on the spot where his watchful gaze had spotted its shape, pretending he hadn't meant to keep his hand on her breast at all.

"– wise girl –"

"What do you intend to do with my step-father?" She asked in a trembling voice.

He hummed under his breath, looking curiously at her chest, slowly cupping her plump breast in his fingers, thinking how wonderfully it fit the shape of his hand.

"Nothing. I won't attack him first. For you. He has nothing to do with Heavenly Beach." He said softly, spreading himself out more comfortably on the cushion, feeling a pleasant warmth in his belly at the sight of her hand clamping down on his wrist, as if she wanted to simultaneously push him away and draw him to her at the same time.

"– stop – someone will see –" She muttered, looking around quickly to make sure they were still alone in the room.

"I want it back." He whispered. "I want what we had during that summer."

He heard her swallow hard, shocked by his confession.

"I…God, after all, you know it won't work. We can't. No one will accept it, no one will understand. We'll be miserable again." She mumbled pleadingly, feeling his hand move from her breast to her neck, burying itself in her warm, bare skin, her cheeks pink with emotion, her gaze hot and hazy.

"If you don't want it, I'll understand it. What I desire is fucked up, like my whole person. But I want you to know that what happened between us… then, when my father died. It was real. I've never felt more alive and fulfilled than then, being deep inside you. You were so warm." He said, brushing her soft face with his thumb, looking at her beautiful, puffy lips, the taste of which he longed to feel again so much.

"Aemond." She mumbled in embarrassment.

"I don't care how wrong it is. I don't care about morality. I've done far less moral things to other people. Making love to my niece seems to me the smallest of my sins." He confessed, burying his fingers in her smooth, dark hair, the tips of their noses touched as he made her lean towards him.

"Someone might say it's disgusting and wrong, but I only care about what you want. I don't give a shit about others. What they will think of me, whether I live by their rules or not. What can they do to me? Mock me? Fear me? They are already do. It's not about me, it's about you. I don't want to ruin your life." He said, shaking his head, watching her reaction, her eyes grew wide with shock, her lips parted in heavy, deep breaths.

The sight of her bursting into silent, helpless sobs broke his heart: his mouth began to place quick, lingering, loud kisses on her beautiful, rosy face, all swollen with tears.

"– please – please, I don't want you to cry because of me –" He muttered in pain, feeling his voice tremble with emotion, stroking affectionately her head and neck.

He pulled her body closer to him, wanting to embrace her, protect her, hide her from the pain that tormented her so much.

"This is just too much. I wish I could be a child again. To go back to that sea. To fall asleep next to you in that room. I wish I could feel again the peace I felt then. Your presence next to me. But I can't have it." She mouthed, choking on her own tears, making him press his lips together in pain.

"You have it. You have me. You always had."

She froze, looking at him with a hot, hazy look that made him want to take her in the middle of the library.

However, he decided that he wanted and should do something completely different.

"Do you like me?" He asked as one of his hands ran up and down her bare thigh, while the other was slowly stroking her head. She looked at him in silence for a moment and nodded uncertainly, trying to calm herself down.

He thought she looked like a small, terrified child.

"Very much?" He continued and she nodded again, breathing loudly through her mouth.

He smiled involuntarily, cupping her cheek, hot with emotion, in his hand.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

Her eyes got big, her eyebrows raised high as she gasped loudly, shocked by his question.

"This time I'm aware of what I'm asking for. What I want. And although I should, I'm not ashamed of it. I have wasted eight years that I could have spent with you, no matter how much we would both have suffered during that time. I want to suffer with you by my side now." He whispered, tucking an unruly strand of her hair behind her ear, looking affectionately at her beautiful, gentle face, all pink with emotion and tears.

"I wish I could trust you, but I don't know if I can." She muttered, making him feel a squeeze in his stomach.

"I know. I'll wait as long as it takes." He said, brushing her cheek with his fingers, wanting to comfort himself and her.

She nodded, sighing heavily, as if she had given up and stopped fighting.

"You can only embrace me and hold my hand. No kisses on the lips and don't try to take me." She muttered.

He chuckled under his breath, feeling as happy as a small boy, cuddling her whole body into his at last, feeling her pleasant warmth, her scent, her closeness.

"Very well." He hummed, placing a warm, gentle kiss on the tip of her nose.

He saw her frown and grinned widely, cocking his head.

"Your nose is not your lips, is it? Just as your cheeks. Your jaw. Your neck. Your shoulders." He whispered, brushing his full lips over each of the places he mentioned, leaving wet, hot marks on her bare skin. He sighed as he felt her fingers clench on his back, her soft breasts pressing into his chest.

He got his girlfriend back.

______

Author's note: When we started dating, my husband brought me bouquets of lollipops because I don't like cut flowers and I could at least eat this. I think it's such a sweet idea!!!

[palskippah]

Hi! There are role swap AUs of them already and I love them so much, so I tried making my own too! You should know that this is entirely self-indulgent like anything else I draw askdaslds

There is Mareach and Bowuigi bc yes alskdklasd and a tiny bit of one-sided Luaisy that leads to nothing because Luigi's a married man 😔

I had other drawings of them, but they're not colored yet and I wanted to share the idea already sjsjs

Here's some ideas for this AU!

-Mario's the Mushroom Kingdom Princess and his parents are the King and Queen. Luigi used to be the other princess, green princess or green princess Mario (as in, his bro Mario, not his last name Mario 😔), but he married Bowser and became the Queen of the Darklands :y Everyone in there respects and remembers his name, he's built a really good reputation for himself by simply being himself, in this house we believe in the 'Luigi is the Darklands' hero' hc too. Their aunt and uncles (and cousin) rule Sarasaland.

-(King boo's a Darklands ally but still hates Queen Luigi from that one time he wiped clean his mansion when the king kidnapped Mario. Luigi's scared of ghosts still too, but Junior always reassures him he's gonna beat them up if they try scaring his mama (I drew it actually, I'm gonna color it too!))

-When the bros were 20 Bowser at first tried kidnapping Princess Mario, and Mario was ready to beat his ass but they ended up talking about ally-making and ruling a kingdom as Bowser just got crowned king. Mario advised him to listen to his advisor and other stuff and by the time Luigi caught the koopa ship, ready to bonk Bowser in the head with his comically large hammer, the princess and king made plans of starting a treaty.

>Anyways, they met often after that when Bowser went to plan the treat with the Mario King and Queen. Luigi fell for Bowser and Bowser fell harder and Mario regretted talking to Bowser and should have instead just beat him up. He's happy for his bro though. When they married and had Junior and adopted the koopalings he decided that he was very happy that he talked to Bowser. He loves how happy Luigi is.

-Princess Mario accomplishes many things and excels at almost anything he tries, and all the toads treat him as a hero as well as a princess and all, so his dad doesn't think he's a failure, but still bothers him by urging him to get married ever since he turned thirty. He often compares him to Luigi, who got married at 23 and in the present had eight kids with his husband. Mario doesn't give a shit about marrying soon, but wished his dad would stop being annoying. His mamma is a sweetheart as always and often tells her husband to leave him alone. King Mario is stubborn as hell though (his two boys got that from him), so he doesn't.

-Peach and Daisy are cousins and they were trying to start a business together, though they weren't still sure about what (you know as Princess Peach and Daisy have many businesses together in canon aksdla), but before they could settle anything they somehow fell in the pipe and Peach landed in the Mushroom Kingdom and Daisy in the Darklands.

-Bowser still steals the Super Star, but in hopes of giving Luigi the coolest anniversary gift ever, as it's their seventh and all that. He very often gives him all sort of things, like great statues, many many dresses and all the stuff that he knows Luigi loves. Being the himbo he is, he's genuinely concerned that Luigi wouldn't like something unless it is completely new and has never been gifted to him at all. Of course, Luigi would love anything he'd give him, because Bowser's gifts are always made with love. By the end of the things, Luigi tells Bowser so and calls him an idiot affectionally, and also makes him return the Super Star. (movie-like, you know, since this is somehow a retelling alksdlasd)

-Based on what I read at discord, if you're who wrote it, pls know that i love your ideas jsjs- Bowser has set up many statues of Luigi that are of a nice stone color and has gems in its eyes to glow under the lava and the sun when it's out. Imagine that one Luigi render where he's got an arm raised and the other nicely by his side and he's smiling, that's the main statue of Queen Luigi sjjds. They contrast greatly against Bowser's, that were made to make his fierceness stand out, unlike Luigi's that highlight his kindness.

-In the piano scene, Bowser is playing and singing and Luigi's laying on his stomach over the piano's surface (no idea if that's possible but humor me alkdalsd) and listens with the most besotted expression ever, resting his face on his palms. When Kamek interrupts them Luigi's not mad or anything, but Bowser really glares at the magikoopa.

-Junior finds Daisy and brings her to the castle, in hopes that his mama and papa will help her, because they're the greatest people in the whole world and they can do anything.

-Daisy and Luigi quickly become friends, making Bowser jealous of the other human, especially because Daisy from time to time looks at Luigi as if she like-liked him. Not that he thought Luigi had eyes for anyone else beside him, but it was still annoying. And Diasy, for all she annoyed him, seemed to fully respect that Luigi was happily married.

-Daisy teases Bowser mercilessly too, at first clueless that she's supposed to be terrified and respect this guy like everyone else does (maybe Junior takes her to him first, and completely forgetting Junior's initial rambling about his family, she doesn't realize Bowser's the king, but when she meets Luigi, she sees his crown and fancy clothes and immediately knows she gotta be respectful to this guy. She doesn't know how royals are in this lava world, after all), but she keeps doing it, knowing the koopa king may look terrifying but he's mostly bark and no bite.

-DK and Mario are friends and they often meet up to beat the shit out of the other, or sparring as it's called, I think. The first time they did it, Mario got the cat power up and destroyed DK in front of the kong king and other kongs, and since then Cranky doesn't dislike Mario so much, and the others respect him greatly too.

-Mareach,,, they look at eachother and sparkles are in there too. Peach doesn't brutally throw Mario to the ground or anything, but he loses his breath anyways because of her beauty. Also, Mario's type is beautiful tall women (and tall idiot men, maybe his dad suggests DK as a husband and Mario's like ew dad, we're just friends. Or maybe... Donkareach... I like the fics that has them, but idk for this).

-Toad as a wingman, he doesn't care how obvious he is, he's gonna make Princess Mario and his new friend Peach be together, because they clearly like-like the other.

That's all I got for now askdalsd thanks if you read my ramblings, sorry if there's mistakes in writing.

I'm gonna color the stuff I got left and maybe draw more, but knowing myself I dunno if I will anytime soon 😔 Also I go back to college the next week sadly sjsjd

Got any thoughts on the AU? Tell cuz I'd love to know c:< but only if it's nice thoughts, I'm sensitive akdalsd

[celaenaeiln]

Was Dick ever mean to Jason when they first met? Because I’ve seen a lot of fanon where it’s implied/shown that he was, but I haven’t seen anything to prove that it’s canon (and I’m happy you’re back even though you weren’t gone long I love your blog)

Aww thank you!!

Ugh I don't know where fanon keeps getting the idea but Dick was never mean to Jason as Robin.

Let's start with the erased version, otherwise known as pre-crisis.

Jason Todd was born to acrobatic parents and also performed in the circus. Here's the interesting bit: it wasn't Bruce who found out about them, it was Dick who was at the circus and cheered them.

Batman (1940) Issue #357

Where was Bruce? He was busy becoming squid food in Gotham.

Anyway Bruce escapes and meets up with Dick who is still Robin and helps him solve part of the crime. As he's discussing the case with Dick, Dick mentions that there may be a connection to Bruce's case and something Trina Todd said.

Yup! Dick becomes friends with Jason's mom <3

Batman (1940) Issue #358

Bruce doesn't trust her but Dick does and Bruce trusts Dick so he accepts.

So Dick goes to meet Trina and her husband but they've already left to sneak into the villain's lair and get caught by Killer Croc. So he chases after them. Barbara joins in as Batgirl but Batgirl and Robin are too late because Killer Croc has already fed Joe and Trina to crocodiles.

Batman's still fighting his own case while all this is happening.

Waldo the Clown takes Jason to the manor and while Jason's in the kitchen looking for food, he finds the door behind the grandfather clock open, goes inside, and finds the batcave.

He finds a trunk of Dick's old suits as Robin and that's where the iconic pre-crisis Jason Robin scene comes -

Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526

Which first of all Jason why are you wearing other people's clothes without their permission? But anyway Jason hears people coming and finds Batman's busy grabbing information with Selina and so he hides in the trunk of the Batmobile. Robin Dick and Batgirl solve the case on their end and find out there's a trap for Batman so they come in and save Batman and his allies. Jason sneaks out of the car and finds his parents are dead so he tries to kill Killer Croc but Dick and Barbara stop him.

Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526

Dick's just like "oh, you sweetheart."

Dick wants to adopt him but Bruce is like mine because they're both like "It's my fault his parents died, I should take responsibility."

Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526

Dick was really nice to Jason.

Batman (1940) Issue #529

Dick is Jason's idol. He and Dick have a great relationship, so much so that Dick actually passes on the Robin name and suit to Jason.

Batman (1940) Issue #529

I could make a meme out of the handshake scene with Bruce being one hand and Jason being the other and in the middle the hands meet is "idolizing Dick Grayson".

So Dick and Jason had a fantastic relationship.

And then some things happen where this Jason wasn't well-recieved by the audience because of the way writers handled the transition from Dick's robin to Jason's so DC realized that they need to make Jason into his own person with his own personality, looks, and story.

So they magic marker erased the previous timeline and now we have the actual Jason Todd that's actually relevant to every comic that comes after.

Yet in this current timeline too, Dick treated Jason sweetly.

Here Dick's first meeting with Jason, he actually saves Jason from the hands of drug dealers.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

He let go of his hiding spot to get the new Robin out of trouble.

Jason is not at all happy about this.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

And Dick's pissed off because he found out there's a new Robin through a newspaper and he just lost a drug deal he's been waiting on to bailout the new Robin.

So Dick storms off and Jason asks Bruce about Nightwing

Batman (1940) Issue #416

And I'm going to reiterate parts of this post for this part (people please please read this post because tumblr has an image limit and I've explained it in detail there but I can't here)

Dick had no idea Bruce passed on the Robin costume. He finds out through the newspaper because Bruce is pissed at Dick. Like he's so mad that when he told Dick to leave, Dick actually left.

You know how there's a saying about not being able to take back words of anger? Bruce is feeling that heavily. He already had suspicions that Dick wanted to leave but before Dick could tell him, he fired him so he wouldn't have to hear those words. But Bruce is super mad that Dick left anyway. So what does he do? He makes the first boy he sees Robin.

And Jason finds out Dick was Robin when he confronts Bruce why Nightwing knows Bruce's identity. And that gets Bruce more mad because he's now feeling guilty which is when Dick comes to confront Bruce.

After meeting Bruce, Dick talks about what he's been up to since he left and put Bruce in a good mood before he starts tearing into him.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Bruce looks so wrecked. The guilt and sorrow is tantamount to his pain.

Then Dick asks Bruce why he choose someone new.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

So Bruce tells him. But Dick and Bruce's relationship go way deeper than just friends or family. They know each other. They revolve around each other so Dick calls him out, and out comes the truth

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But here's what it means in terms of Dick and Jason's relationship:

Instead of letting Jason become some sort of spite move, Dick becomes the bigger man and decides to turn Robin into a legacy.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

He passes it down like it was meant to be passed down. Because let's be honest here. The Robin name and costume is Dick's. If he wanted to, he could've taken it back, Bruce be damned. And that was one of Jason's fears.

It's Dick's approval of Jason and them catching the drug dealers together at the end that cements Jason as Robin. It's his acceptance and good will toward Jason that Bruce is grateful for.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Dick also validates and praises Jason in the comics whenever they meet.

The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #31

He's basically, "Don't worry about Bruce, if you get in trouble, I'll take care of it."

The only problem is they didn't meet a lot but when they did it was good times all around.

The third version of Dick and Jason's meeting.

In this version holy honking heck. First of all it's a flashback when Bruce fires Dick because he feels like he's too busy with other duties to be with Batman and then after a series of events in present time, it shows that Bruce literally kidnapped Jason and gagged and tied him to a chair. And Alfred's like WTH BRUCE?!

Even more things happen on both sides (curse you 30-image per post tumblr limit) and Bruce essentially makes Jason watch all the videos of Dick and sets Jason's gauntlet test to be a game of tag with Dick.

Dick is completely unaware of all this happening because he's just having fun busting up thugs and playing with Barbara, having no clue that Bruce and Jason are literally watching him livestream through his bike dash cam.

Nightwing (1996) Issue #105

Jason literally shows up while Dick's pondering on a rooftop and is like who're you? Oh wait you're him lol. Move over there's a new robin in town! And Dick's just like WHAT?! He such a little shit about it.

Dick's immediately like okay I'm upset at Bruce but I have to help this new kid out. There's no hesitation, no regret, no anger towards Jason at all. Just pure desire to see him succeed.

Not gonna lie, Jason's just awful towards Dick because he thinks that Dick is his test or something Dick's just like, "can you cool it for a sec?" They soon find out about a huge crime drug activity going on and Dick sorta mentors Jason through it while on the case. I'm not gonna include the panels but it's just Dick and Jason working together. It's fun to read and cute because Dick's protective of him and Jason's like a little bird following a bigger scarier one.

At the end the crime is solved, Jason and Alfred go home, and Dick calls Bruce to tell him this -

Nightwing (1996) Issue #106

Nightwing (1996) Issue #106

He was so, so nice to Jason. Actually it's impossible for anyone to treat Jason better than Dick treated him, not even Bruce was this nice to Jason.

In Nightwing (2016) Annual, there's another story of Dick and Jason's meeting. In this case Dick comes over after Alfred calls him and Jason's sulking in his room because Bruce grounded him. He pulls Jason away and they go on a Nightwing and Robin adventure where Dick talks to him, teaches him, and lifts his spirits.

Nightwing (2016) 2021 Annual

Dick being mean to Jason is pure fanon, it's so fanon that there isn't even a single comic panel that can be used in support of that horrible idea. He never ignored Jason. Dick makes it very, very clear that his problems are with Bruce won't interfere with his relationship with Jason. He treats Jason as an independent person with his own personality and genuinely looks after and cares for him in every retelling. The only thing is they didn't meet very often but when they did, Dick was such a good brother.

[kosmicdream]

Hello. After drawing webcomics for 10 years and making about 10,000 pages of comics, here are some things i have learned/observed in that experience..

1) making comics does not get easier.. Not really

Making comics is a tedious and slow process and with so many different facets of the experience to learn - you’ll never run out of stuff to learn or weaknesses to work on. I’m not saying this to discourage but to just give the frank reality that it really takes a lifetime to understand. Be patient with yourself and try to set healthy expectations. 

2) Read your own comics after making them.

I don’t know if this is as important to other people as it is to me, but I do think that sometimes its easy to not re-read your own work and just go from your own memory of it, or maybe you’re tired of looking at it because of all the flaws. I don’t personally get sucked into the “rewrite/remake” cycle that I know is common with comics, as I sort of just accept things as they are, but re-reading my work does help me see where I have come from and where I need to go to next. I personally don’t like to lose sight of that, and I think re-reading helps ground me in the planning process of my work and gives me a better perspective on all aspects.

3) A lot of comic advice should be taken with a grain of salt, because its the person talking to themselves. (including this)

I see a lot of advice that never would have worked for me, or just simply wasn’t something I was ever going to follow. “Dont start with your big epic long stories”! Is a common one. I don’t think that’s bad advice exactly, but how many young artists are going to listen, especially if they’ve never told a story in the first place? Yes, the advice to start small and build yourself up with experience sounds great, I’m sure people do it, but if you’re an artist you’re probably not gonna be that responsible. And for me, when i tried to do this with eggshells, my house burnt down and i kinda gave up comics for a while because i lost a lot of work. 

Writing short stories is still something I struggle with, its just not easy for me. I have gotten better at it but i don’t think that makes me less of a comic artist because I haven’t gotten good at that particular format, or that I jump around on my projects. Is it more impressive to have more completed work under your belt, sure. But I also think that.. Idk.. what is the advice actually saying, because with that one it sort of feels (often times) as a warning that you’re setting yourself up for failure/embarrassment by attempting a comic like that. I don’t know how to tell you this, but comics are gonna be embarrassing no matter what you do and there’s no guarantee you’ll be more successful/not experience failure by avoiding your passions. Something to think about anyway. 

4) Don’t draw every leaf. Unless you really want to.

I’m the kind of comic artist that kind of doesn’t care about the art as much as the whole package of the comic. When i see a very impressively drawn panel/page, with laborious detail that is well drawn and maybe even colored ect.. That usually is kind of, I guess, a turn off for me as part of the reading experience. The thing is, when i encounter that, it usually signals to me that someone has poor planning skills for comics. It says to me that comic is probably not going to see its end or that artist is overworking themselves in an unnecessary way, that ends up concerning me about how they’re doing. Because i know how hard it is to draw comics. When an artist phones things in a bit, or has a limit on how much they work on a page, its a relief for me to see! because I understand they have healthier boundaries and expectations, and the art itself usually is less stiff too. This is all an overgeneralization, but I think with a lot of webcomic artists we are usually drawing a comic for the first time ever, so it makes sense we want to do our best and try as hard as possible - that just usually isn’t the smartest plan to put all the stock in the visual department. This also kinda frustrates me to see because most comics (professional or not) will also (generally) not reel the art in ever or make a more simple style. Generally I see it always trying to outdo itself, which leads to burn out. I personally only work about 1hr on each page i draw, that hasn’t changed in the 10 years I have been drawing comics, but i used to spend hundreds of hours drawing detailed lineart for eggshells and it didn’t even read well and i’d be disappointed with the results, feeling more lost with my goals than ever. PLEASe.. Just draw worse, its usually better looking in the end too. (because you wont have the experience to judge visual clarity until you’ve been drawing comics for a while imo..)

5) Don’t draw ahead, draw those inbetweenies.

“Inbetweenies” are the pages for the “boring” ones. They are also usually the most common KIND of page. Its the pages that are necessary, but “inbetween” the action. The impact moments in a scene, ect. You gotta draw them. They’re always gonna be there. They’re the pages where maybe, the character is walking somewhere, thinking, ect. The after impact from an action.. There’s a million examples, but hopefully you’ll understand what I mean when I say they’re both necessary pages/panels, sometimes so mundane/redundant, but also required for telling the story.. As a comic is a sequence of images. This is why, the previous advice is also important IMO- because if you really want to “draw every leaf” - maybe you should save that energy and effort for those impact moments that you want to impress the reader with.. And not for the inbetweenies, which are the foundational support, but also not the most important moments. If you conserve your energy a bit, the contrast OF that effort will also pop more. I personally find it funny when I put more effort into a page and end up tricking my readers into thinking I got better at drawing, when really i just have been able to draw better and only save it for moments like this instead of always.

Also, when I say don’t draw ahead.. I mean I draw each page at a time before going to the next one. I have no idea if this is an unusual practice or not, and I know a lot of people will draw their chapters/episodes/whatever in sections like sketch/ink/color/ect.. But I personally draw and finish page by page, unless its the thumb/sketch stage. Even then, i don’t go ahead much. I think that you can control flow/pacing better by doing chapters all at once of course, I see that as a benefit. But i also think that makes things very overwhelming and can also result in a lack of flexibility if something isn’t working. No matter HOW much planning you do- comics are always going to have an aspect of IMPROVISATION with the result you get in the end. There are way too many factors in play to be in complete control of all of them and always know the result of the reading experience. SO for me, this technique is easier and has been something that continues to get me to working effectively. Plus, rumiko takahashi said that’s what she does. And i think she has some of the best visual flow/compositions in comics. So that’s what I do.

I could write more personal advice or rules that i follow..but I think those are the ones I find are the most important to me anyway. Of course, comics are a strange medium and not everything that works for me will work for you. That’s all for now.. Bye bye…! 

Oh by the way, my comics are here: feastforaking.com nastyreddogs.com https://kosmic.itch.io/ Support me on patreon! https://www.patreon.com/kosmic

[beartitled]

ur au inspired me alot so have this writings I made based off of ur evil cipher parents au...

Bill cipher was SUPPOSED to be a normal Euclidean. A normal triangle. Despite his color not being right and he was practically blind in his 2d world.

All he knew about his parents was that his mom was a lovely deep blue, and his father was a wonderous shade of red.

And he was okay with that.

Atleast he could stare at the stars as his mother's voice lulled him to sleep.

.. he swore he saw a group of stars moving… It looked weird, it was a line with a dip down at the back end, and what looked like a trapezoid(he believes that's what trapezoids look like, it was hard to see anyone else in the first place) on the front end.. it was unlike anything he'd ever seen before.

"Ma.. Some stars are moving…" Billy said, his voice a soft mumble.

"Billy, there's nothing there moving… I promise.." Billy's mom said, her voice silky smooth.

Billy hummed in reply, just watching the bundle of stars move in such an odd way.. then there was one that looked like one of the star shaped people he's somewhat seen, but it had a trail coming from the back. The two bundles paused, as if they were staring at him.

It was.. unnerving.

"Ma..?" Billy called quietly. There wasn't any reply. Mom must've left already.

Billy didn't want to bother her. So he just watched the two bundle of stars.. Until they got closer. They weren't stars.

They looks so weird.

He was scared- it was so scary- he suddenly wanted to be normal- to have an eye where it's supposed to be-

One of the giant things reached down and carefully scooped him up-- Billy gasped loudly as he was lifted up-- he could see so much MORE. He could see the two giant things he originally thought were stars.

They were.. 3D. He had thought no such things could exist!.

But if they were here, why did they pick him-- Was it because he could see them?

Billy whined softly, Glancing around nervously for some sort of escape. But there was none.

"Billy?" He heard his mom say, "Billyy? Where are you?"

Billy Desperately wanted to tell his mom he was still here- he just couldn't describe it.

"Mabel what do we do now-?" The first giant said, the one with the line and trapezoid thingy on the front on their forehead. The other had no markings, but he could tell that they were the star shaped bundle of stars.

"Just kill him- like.. like Grunkle Ford said.. to.." The star said.

The trapezoid with a line frowned, Shaking its head.

"I'm not gonna kill him, he's.. so small.."

"Then what?"

".. surely Grunkle Ford wouldn't mind if we take him home?"

Billy didn't understand what they were saying.

"BILLY??" Mom called out, much louder.

"I'm here, Ma." Billy replied. But mom didn't seem to hear him. So he tried saying it louder. "Here, Ma."

Still, nothing. Next thing he knew, he felt so odd, he didn't feel right.

He could move more. Everything wasn't hard to see, he could TURN.

..

"That was just a dream, Bill."

pls enjoy :3

Awwww thank you ❤️ Glad my comic inspired you to create this is so sweet 🥹

I love the atmosphere ✨ You can feel the unease 👀

Also MABEL?????? HOW ARE YOU SO BRUTAL? Don’t kill da baby D:

I know it’s a nightmare and it would be really fitting tbh (I think Bill would be paranoid/have anxiety about Pines now liking him) (if Pines have the memories present, there would be discomfort vibes between them)

But still

Mabel would never 😭 would she? 😭

Oh and 💥 this was Bill’s POV probably huh

Also forgot to mention it in part 3 💥

A person wrote a great short fanfic about how “normal” Bill would meet his parents (with a happy ending :D)

They didn’t want to share it publicly, I respect the decision so not tagging them

But just wanted to say that I really appreciate your fan works fellas 💕

It’s a delight to read your fanfics, makes me happy to know that people like my silly comic so much that they were inspired to create 🥹

[justcallme-ange]

Happy 1 Year Little Comforts!! <3

Give or take a couple days - oops ^^;

One of the longest projects I've done to date!! <3 <3 <3 Thank you all so much for the support, as well as all the comments and tags! I love going through them and reading all the lovely messages. They're a great pick-me-up whenever I'm feeling demotivated. So thank you again <3

So for the anniversary I wanted to do a little thing where I point out some details in the comic I'm very proud of XD (Yes I'm tooting my own horn - shhh)

Three Wishes Dream asks Techno to promise him something 3 times. And only on the third one does Techno agree. I tried to frame it as both Techno being cautious about agreeing to things Dream proposes (a la favor) but also as Techno finally agreeing when everything was laid out and there was nothing Dream had left to hide. (It's like a fairytale trial - 3 challenges with the last having a great reward.) Forget-me-(k)not I don't know how prevalent they are now a days, but growing up I was a really forgetful child, and learned somewhere that by tying a knot on your finger when you need to remember something supposedly helps in you actually remembering. Which idk if true, it didn't really work on me, but the knot itself actually stuck, so in this case I used it for 3 things: A reminder that Dream was stuck in prison and needed help, a reminder that Phil needed to get Techno out of prison (eventually), and a reminder that Techno promised Dream he would free him. Scars So all the scars that I drew Dream with all actually have canonical reasons. So in order - the one across his nose was from Techno during their duel, the ones on his neck and chest were from Tommy taking two canon lives, the one on his lips were from Sam after first being detained, and the last on his chin (and arms) are from Quackity. Continuity The armor that Phil is wearing at the end is a reference to another illustration I did of the Doomsday Trio. It's post prison break so maybe it's a sequel? (This is less a detail and more just a personal thing - but my favorite page has to be page 7 - where Dream's image crumbles. It usually takes me at least 2 tries to get the look I want - this was one and done ^^) More behind the scenes - this comic (final version) started with the hug. I said initially the comic was supposed to be 6 pages at most, but I wanted to make the hug work so bad that I literally rewrote the comic. Only the first two pages are part of the original draft. Everything else was new. My brother literally sat with me for days going over each scene and making edits. OTL There were so many iterations - in the end I think there are at least 7 drafts of this comic. Cut Content Bonus: Unlike my other comic where the vision was there from the beginning, Little Comforts had some growing pains, and a few scenes had to be cut for it to work. So here ya go!

This was cut in favor of the shaking scene, some levity was needed to let the scene breathe, plus quoting my brother "It's more Techno".

Also wanted another hug, but editor and I felt that it took away from the pay off in the end.

Alternate version of 'he's a child' - originally it was supposed to go at the end of the comic, as an epilogue. Timing wise it ended up not working, which ended up with an even better gut punch so I'm not too upset. I may still render this....

[earlysunshines]

i don't know what you mean to me,

detective!jihyo x spiderwoman!reader (pt.2)

summary: jihyo completely ignores what the chief had told her not to do, she can't help it when it involves working with spiderwoman.

wc: 6k

warnings: cursing ; brief mention of a scar ; that's it i think ; lesbians flirting ; rushed proofreading

pt.1, pt. 3

a/n: this has been sitting in my docs for a while, tried to make it a bit exciting! I wasn't planning on making this a series, but here I am. enjoy!! hope it lives to your guys' expectations (T-T)

-

“how’s your job?” the chief asks, swirling the coffee in his cup.

“it’s good. they said they were impressed with my work.” you mumble against the cup of coffee before taking a careful sip, trying not to burn your tongue. 

“that’s good. you’ve always been so smart like your parents.” your uncle says, his eyes softening. you smile, though it’s a small, weak smile and your heart aches a bit at the thought of your parents.

would they be proud of you now? and your side ‘job?’

you had a cliche backstory for someone with powers, a "hero" backstory. life was great until middle school, your parents died around that time. you were also too smart for your own good; sure, it was a plus in school, but it was not a plus for your teenage social life. you had pretty comic-worthy trauma and yeah, it hurt to think about it here and there, made you ponder and sulk at the ungodly hours of the night, but it was a while ago and you learned how to cope. 

despite the emotional damage it caused, it definitely made you stronger, shaped you into who you are today, and is the reason you play "hero." bad experiences give you good lessons, that's what your mom had told you. your dad had told you something similar, something along the lines of "with great power, comes great responsibility," your dad always had a way with words.

the loud sound of a folder making contact with the wooden table is made so abruptly and you flinch a bit, looking up to see who had slammed it down so aggressively: park jihyo–the same person who had patched you up two weeks ago. 

the detective wore a stern expression on her face, something mixed with anger and worry as she furrowed her brows while also deepening her gaze on your uncle, eyes filled with a certain flame of authority. park slides the folder toward your uncle: the chief of the police department. 

chief l/n isn't the best guy to be related to when your part-time gig is swinging around the city as the person he's not too fond of. unlucky you.

“chief, this one is… just look.” jihyo sighs. your uncle's brows crease as he pulls the papers out from the orange, paper folder. jihyo continues to speak, “5 people dead, and fourteen severely injured.”

jihyo looks at you for a split second, and you look back at her. it's not the best time to start reminiscing, but theres a sudden memory of you that she recalls—the first time she met you. 

the first interaction she had with you was four months ago; the impression you had left on her was a great one—it really piqued her interest in you. it's really not time to start having flashbacks to when she had met her boss's niece, but here she is.

-

“jihyo, this is my niece y/n.” chief l/n had introduced, smiling and patting you on the back.

chief l/n had always forgotten to bring lunch, and your aunt hated that. your aunt turned you into a personal messenger, a cheap (not even, you got scammed) delivery woman, so you were forced to drop off lunch for your uncle, some type of udon soup thing with fishcakes scattered around in the thermos (you couldn't lie, it smelled good and you were a bit jealous that she hadn't made you any lunch the first time you started living with them and working on your own).

the first thing jihyo noticed was that you had the chief's brown eyes, and you two were similar in the way that you were taller than most – your uncle being 6’4 inches of pure muscle and strength, a whole tank for a chief and his build fit the role. jihyo had guessed you were around 5’8, you also seemed to have some muscle from what she could tell, a prominent build with broader shoulders and toned arms, you seemed rather fit and active. there were common similarities in physical features and body language; you two were definitely related. 

the detective had also noticed that you were particularly pleasing to look at.

your face looked like it had been sculpted to perfection: you had a strong, sharp jawline, and prominent cheekbones that rivaled even some models she had seen in the magazines at the local grocery store. your eyes were similar to your uncles, they had a softer look, though, and were noticeably striking. your lips were a dark peach color, beautiful and plump. every aspect and feature on your face was put together to construct such a captivating sight, it honestly shook jihyo up slightly.

“it’s nice to meet you y/n,” jihyo had greeted, “i never knew you had a niece, chief.”

“ah, well this little one-”

“i’m 24.” you sighed, furrowing your brows as your uncle chuckled playfully.

“whatever, whatever. you’re still very young,” the chief responds, “she landed a great internship at minatozaki industries, so she’s been staying at my place for the time being, probably a long time.” he adds proudly, hitting your back again and it makes you tense up a bit from the unintentional strength in the contact. your eyebrows crinkle and you wince—just for added effect.

“you’re a scientist?” jihyo questions,

“i’m a researcher for them.” you simply reply, “i journal and edit sometimes too, well—i've only written one article, actually.” you add with a shrug.

“that’s impressive,” jihyo says, and it really is because you’re a year younger than her and somehow you've landed an outstanding internship at one of the most thriving corporations in the city. you nod and end up transferring a bit more eye contact, which communicates a shared understanding and fondness between the two of you, there’s an exchanged interest. 

the eye contact breaks when a repeating buzz is heard from your phone,

“oh, i have to go,” you mumble, “it was nice meeting you jihyo, hope we can talk more." 

"me too, y/n," jihyo responds. you simply shoot another awkward grin.

"i’ll get going now. uncle, i’ll be home by six.” you finally add, waving while fixing the bag that slings across your body.

jihyo thinks you’re impressive.

-

“chief,”

“jihyo?” he says, still holding the paper of the report, but looking up at jihyo. the shorter woman sighs and bites the inside of her cheek,

“listen to me, just hear me out okay,” jihyo says. the chief focuses all his attention on the woman in front of him, all 5’3 inches of stubbornness and authority: his most outstanding employee, his favorite detective.

jihyo lets out a small breath.

“the suspect was reported to have been a lizard, chief. you think we can fight a man-sized, not even—it was bigger than a man, taller and bigger than you, apparently.” jihyo sighs, “i think we should find a way to contact spiderwoman-”

“absolutely not.” the chief says almost immediately, almost breaking the pen he had been holding in his hand. “i’m not letting that criminal ruin anything else.” he used the word criminal, it made your heart sink just a bit.

“chief, i don’t think you get it. this is a lizard. it’s something out of a comic, or movie. this isn’t some secret operation or regular thief, numerous officers were injured and people are dead l/n. one of the sergeants had lost his arm, and he barely made it.”

“what?” the chief voices in disbelief, his eyes widened. jihyo looks down at a spot at the coffee table,

“sergeant moon l/n. moon taeil, his arm…” jihyo trails off, looking down and biting the inside of her cheek. 

your uncle pauses for a moment, looking down at the paper in his hand with incredulity. he darts back up at the woman and leans back in his chair, staring at the desk still perplexed. his jaw tightens up again as he closes his eyes, letting out a stressed sigh whilst pinching the bridge of his nose.

“i don’t trust that spiderwoman at all, detective. i know she saved your life twice, and yes i'm glad she did, but you shouldn’t trust so easily.” he starts. you seem to be a bystander, they seem so invested and heated in this conversation. you listen carefully. 

“look, if you think about it: the lizard and that spider girl are the same, they have those special abilities. you might think ‘spider girl’ is good now, but she has the power to do as much harm as that lizard, and assumably more brains too. she could be extremely dangerous, what if we were to trust her? what if she takes advantage of us and boom, everything goes to shit.” the chief exaggerates the last part a bit, it takes both you and jihyo by surprise at how much emotion he uses as he expresses his distrust for spiderwoman. 

“you really think we can take that lizard?” jihyo questions, her eyebrows crease and the hand that held her up as she leaned on the table tightens its grip on the edge of it. you take a sip from the banana milk in your hand as you listen, impressed and surprised at how heated your uncle is about his distrust for your other identity.

“jihyo, i get where you’re coming from, but it’s just not safe. i don’t trust her, especially after that damn drug operation incident. i mean, how would she have known about that? she just showed up and fucked up our plan, she could fuck up more than that and we’re just lucky it happened to be a crime scene that she had ‘tackled.’ do you get what i’m saying, park?”

jihyo nods, but she doesn’t make eye contact with the head of the police.

“yeah, i get where you’re coming from,” jihyo responds, “just a suggestion.”

you sit there in silence and stare at your uncle, a bit bewildered that he hates you that much, imagine if he knew that spiderwoman had heard him talking so much shit about her—you kind of want to laugh, even if it's belittling. 

jihyo has this expression mixed with defeat and concern, it makes you frown. you don't like seeing jihyo so beat, especially because of your unwavering uncle. the chief of the police and you are close enough so that you can scold him playfully and talk to him like an adult, but this matter would leave you in an argument that you could never win. your uncle was stubborn and scary, even with you occasionally.

you wanted to talk to the detective as spiderwoman, you know she trusts you and you want to reassure her, it sucks to see her getting shut down like this. if it were just the two of you right now, you'd go on about how persistent and ridiculous your uncle is for shutting down this suggestion, you know you could work this out, but not now, not with chief l/n present.

“alright, i’ll get back to investigating this. let me know if you um, have any better suggestions that don’t involve her.” jihyo mumbles, voice getting smaller as she mutters the ‘her.’ 

before departing, detective park adds one more thing, “also, um, they’ve already planned to have a gathering of some sort for the victims, it was moon’s idea. i forgot to tell you, but it might be in your inbox." jihyo chokes out. "i’ll get going now.” 

detective park can deal with rejection, and detective park can deal with her tenacious boss.

jihyo looks at the chief for a bit before her gaze sets on you. eye contact is made and you shoot her a "sorry about that" smile, and she replies with an “it’s okay” smile. you’ve always had this way of communicating quietly, at least in front of your uncle—no words needed—even though you two had known each other for only a bit. 

detective park walks away with the papers she had taken back, her shoulders sink a little as she strolls out the door.

“that was kind of harsh.” you chide, almost glaring at your uncle with narrowed eyes.

“i just can’t stand that spiderwoman.” 

thanks, you almost reply.

 “i trust jihyo—don't get me wrong—she’s always been one with great ideas and plans, but this one… god that vigilante…” 

“she can’t be that bad, what if she’s just doing it because, i don’t know,” you’re trying to frame your response as best as you can because how does one who isn’t spiderwoman word her motives for doing what she does? they'd either have to know her personally, or be her. “maybe she just feels a sense of responsibility with her abilities.”

“or maybe she’s a threat to us.”

“well,” and you almost continue, but this is chief l/n.

you stop trying after that.

-

jihyo almost died right then and there from shock.

“hi.” spiderwoman had said so casually—too casually for someone who had appeared behind the marble counter in the center of jihyo’s dimmed kitchen area.

“you just love breaking the law do you?” jihyo says in a stable tone, though her heart had been beating a little too fast from your unannounced visit (she tries to excuse it with how you shocked her, but it might just be from being able to have your stupidly charming self in her home).

“you’re not the chief, and i know you love me. i'd like to call my ‘law breaking’ a friendly surprise.” you beam, moving so you can sit on the counter. detective park can tell you're grinning, even with that stupid mask on. jihyo sighs and sits on her beige couch. she leans into it with a small, exhausted groan. 

“what do you want? did you hurt yourself again?” the detective says with annoyance, but deep down there's some worry laced in the question—she’s also been wanting to see you again, especially after she had been rejected so harshly by her boss.

you shake your head. “no, just wanted to see my favorite worker in the police force.”

“yeah sure.” she groans, “how are your injuries?”

“aw, you care about me?” it comes out as almost a chuckle.

“never mind.” jihyo says, rolling her eyes playfully. a laugh leaves your lips and it’s a heartwarming moment, but it's strange to the both of you because you’re spiderwoman, a whole ‘criminal’ in jihyo’s apartment and you converse as if you’re two good friends. 

“my injuries have been healing well,” you begin, “they closed up three days after you patched me up, it’s like they weren’t even there—kinda,” you explain. maybe you were lying a bit, there was still that faint scar that most people get after getting cut (in this case, you were cut much more than the average person would've been). the detective sits up from her seat and looks at the vigilante wide-eyed, her brows furrowing, and eyes narrowing as she looks at you in disbelief.

“are you serious? let me see, there’s no way.”

“hey, woah woah, usually women would take me out to dinner before they undress me.” you tease, laughing to yourself and jihyo knows you have that stupid grin on your face—though, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to see it again.

jihyo crosses her arms then leans back into the beige couch, you’re unbelievable.

(her heart warms up a little, she's extremely intrigued.)

“what are you here for? there’s no way you broke into my apartment for no reason.” jihyo probes, and she says it with such authority that it kind of makes you nervous, her tone makes you tense—it's kind of hot.

“the lizard thing,” you mutter, “i wasn’t there in time to stop him from hurting all those people.”

there’s a sudden guilt that takes over—the whole mood of the room shifts slightly, but you compose yourself even as your jaw tenses. the floor suddenly looks a bit more appealing now because you’re doing anything to not look at the detective before you, feeling at fault.

“you can’t save all of them, i know how it feels.” jihyo mutters softly, her voice is deeply comforting and you fold a bit. “did you manage to do anything about that giant reptile?”

“no, but i think i know what it is, and how it, well… how it turned into that."

“what? i honestly thought it was a science experiment gone wrong, maybe some lizard accidentally drank something, i don't know, i'm not a scientist. i was actually going to ask the chief's niece since she’s a science genius, very smart.” jihyo shrugs. your mood is lifted again after being complimented, after hearing the words "science genius."

she thinks of your alter ego like that? well, technically spiderwoman is your alter ego, not that nerdy minatozaki industries employee. you hold back a snicker.

“you’re not one hundred percent wrong on the science experiment part, i guess.” 

“can you just get to the point?” jihyo groans.

“alright alright,” you make your way over to jihyo, standing slightly closer to the tired detective and leaning against the wall. “i’m this way because i’m technically a science experiment gone wrong, but at least i’m not a hideous monster. anyway, i got bit by this spider, it wasn’t a normal one, it was more of a science experiment that turned me into one.”

jihyo quirks a brow. “so you’re actually a spider?” 

“well, no detective.” you scoff, “do i look like i have eight legs? well if i were a guy maybe i’d have three-”

“i hate you.” jihyo complains, “so much.”

“sorry sorry, it was funny.” you joke (you have the humor of a thirteen-year-old). “anyway, that spider basically lets me shoot webs out of my wrists, climb walls, stick to things, a sixth sense? hmm, i think i'm missing something...oh! i can turn invisible too-”

“you can what?” jihyo says in utter disbelief. you just keep surprising her more and more with every word that escapes your mouth.

“i can turn invisible yeah yeah whatever, it's cool i guess—but that’s enough about me. what i'm trying to say is that i’m a science experiment gone right and that lizard is one that went wrong.”

“harsh," she murmurs, but she's entertained by your amusing little explanation, "but how so? how do you know you won't go wrong?” and now jihyo’s really interested in your little backstory.

“that's a harsh way to put it detective." you pout, but continue nonetheless. "well, i didn’t turn into a spider and i ended up with some fun little abilities. this guy must’ve gotten bitten by a lizard or something? i don’t know, but instead of getting some cool fun powers, he became the lizard. i’d be crying on the ground if i were a were-lizard, must suck.” you finally explain. jihyo giggles at your last little remark.

“so what do you think we can do? how does this help at all?” the detective’s head tilts, and you think to yourself, humming for added effect.

“it’s probably like a werewolf, just without the full moon. maybe it will turn back to normal again?"

“and what if it’s permanent?” jihyo adds. 

you shake your head, “a giant lizard can’t fit into many places without being noticed.” you respond, “i think if i can lure it or something, maybe even capture it with my webs—we can wait for it to change back: we can stop it from killing any others.”

jihyo nods and you both take a moment to consider. 

the detective’s face lights up as she figures out a plan, and she almost laughs thinking about how this is everything the chief had told her not to do. she didn’t care though, this was the best option, the most effective one (and she also just wanted an excuse to work with you more often).

“there’s going to be a ceremony soon for that incident, three days from now i think. i bet you that lizard is going to sabotage it.”

“elaborate,”

jihyo's brows crease again, “half the police force is going to be there, including some civilians. if i were a hungry, ugly, big reptile, i think'd target that for sure.”

“glad you’re not a reptile because who knows what you’re capable of.” and jihyo scoffs at your response. “you’d probably be a small reptile though.” you exaggerate that last remark by putting your hand out, pretending to compare your height with her; detective park narrows her eyes again, and you think she might consider turning you in soon.

“how can i let you know when to show up? what if you’re not there in time again?”

you shrug your shoulders. “i’ll be there. i have my ways.” 

“you’re so ominous it’s annoying.” park scoffs,

“just admit that you want to take me out on a date, i know you want to know more~ i mean personally, i’m up for it.” you smirk. "what about something simple, a coffee date? i'm a latte person-"

“i’ll take you out and turn you in soon,” she scoffs. you simply laugh at her response and make your way to the opened window to leave, much to jihyo’s disappointment (she kind of (really) enjoyed your stupid flirting and company).

“it’s a date then?” the tone of your voice is filled with hope, excitement, and wonder. your tone is extremely inviting. “maybe you can undress me after since you've seemed so eager,” you add with a chuckle. "i'm not against skipping to that part." 

jihyo is about to get up to actually chastise you, even if her cheeks are flushed and her heart skips a beat. she really can’t believe you’re putting the image of a naked spiderwoman in her head right now, she doesn’t even know who you are or what you look like under that suit and mask—except for the bottom half of your face—but fuck you're really making her want to.

you leave before she can do anything, or even respond.

-

“dear, you have to come, it’s respectful and i know you’re free today.”

how the hell are you supposed to swing in to save the day as spiderwoman at the ceremony when you’re also being forced to sit near the big, buff chief and his highest-ranking men?

as much as you’d like to argue, you really can’t win this argument because that would make you sound like a really big asshole for not attending a ceremony for the injured and dead. would you be a bigger asshole for not being able to save them at that same ceremony? you’ll figure it out (you hope).

you’re not able to win an argument with the 6’4 tall, incredibly built chief of police, you'd never be able to in this type of situation. 

now, you stand in front of the mirror buttoning up a white dress shirt to cover the little spider-shaped device that turns into a suit. the person in the mirror is looking at you with eyes that say “please don’t fuck this up” 

you stare back with a look that responds: “trying my best.”

how the hell are you going to be two people at the same time, same place, while being near the people who hate your guts? 

-

the venue is this random building a couple of minutes down the street from the police station.

various tables with white cloth surrounded by brown chairs are scattered across the room; there are already people dispersed across the room in their respective areas, chatting with each other. your uncle leaves your side and decides it’s okay to leave you in a place filled with strangers, great.

as you wander around the room some people seem to recognize you by the way they greet you so warmly. various people who you’ve seen once, or maybe twice greet you formally; you blame your uncle for why you’re being treated like someone with slight authority.

you’re finally alone about ten minutes later at the drink station and you fill your plastic cup with some iced lemon water. it’s a little less overwhelming in the mellow corner, away from the people who are a little too lively for the reason it’s even being held. 

“hey.” a voice says, and you flinch, spilling some water on the dress shirt you have on. jihyo stands there next to you after tapping on your shoulder and making you look like a fool. 

you pat down your shirt with the napkin on the table, “hi.” you respond, trying to sound a little leveled.

“did i scare you? sorry about the shirt, let me help.”

“just startled, haha.” you wish you could be as smooth as spiderwoman would in this interaction. jihyo helps you out by grabbing a napkin and patting at your chest, she’s literally patting near your boobs and your face is probably red from the way she does it so obliviously. spiderwoman would probably, no–she'd definitely be making a comment about jihyo wanting to be near your chest–something like that.

“so, how is everything so far?”

“it’s just really strange.” you sigh, finally patting down the button up dry, there’s just a big patch of water that hasn’t dried off yet. “i feel a little too respected.” 

jihyo laughs and you feel a smile tugging at your lips.

“well, if i didn’t know your uncle as personally as i do now–i’d probably be the same.” jihyo confesses. “your uncle can be scary.” and she exaggerates the last remark by widening her eyes and raising her brows slightly. you laugh.

“and if you didn’t know me personally?”

“well, i’d be a bit skeptical of how this tall, striking woman had spilled water all over her chest just from me tapping on her shoulder.” jihyo jokes. 

“you think i’m striking?” and you send her a grin. the grin sends a shiver down her spine and the detective pauses in her place as she watches the way your lips curl, almost identical to the vigilante's stupid grin. jihyo is a bit shaken up from the similarity and it takes her a bit to respond. 

“a little.” she admits. 

ever since you had met jihyo, something in that interaction sparked a casual friendship. a friendship that was so similar to one between people who had known each other in college, or maybe something close to that.

it always started with comforting, regular greetings, and there wasn't any awkward small talk. there was slight joking here and there, some teasing remarks, small ‘gossip’ about your uncle and anyone else that you two knew. it was a refreshing and friendly relationship that you had with jihyo—even some mutual attraction; in fact, you’re the reason jihyo had been hesitant to flirt with spiderwoman, she would be lying if she said she didn’t have a slight crush on you—though it could never work out—your uncle would kill her (probably).

“you know what my uncle said to me earlier? he’s a strange one.” 

“and what was it?”

“he told me to sock any guy that tried to ask me out, it’s so weird.” and it really is, because everyone here is present for the events that took place a couple of days ago. why would it be someone’s first instinct to ask out the niece of the chief?

jihyo laughs at your remark, shaking her head. “honestly, i’d listen to him. the guys in the force that are single can be pretty strange.”

you nod in agreement, “yeah… what was his name… mark? he asked me out with the worst pickup line i’ve ever heard. something like ‘usually coffee is the thing that wakes up my senses, you seem like you’d wake them up too.’ the laugh i had to hold back…” 

jihyo laughs upon hearing that very amusing information (which, she’ll likely use against her colleague). “he’s like that.” 

the conversation is cut short when you hear the noise of someone tapping against a microphone. a familiar voice is heard throughout the room, it’s one of the sergeants who had welcomed you so warmly: taeyong. the guy seemed young for his position, maybe 3-4 years older than you, all you knew was that he was young for someone so highly ranked.

he cleared his throat before speaking. “welcome everyone. we’d like to thank every guest for attending.” 

jihyo taps your shoulder and tilts her head to signal you to a table, just so you two can look like you’re listening. the two of you pull chairs out and sit at a small, round table that seems to be unoccupied. jihyo scans the room subtly, there was one thought that had been occupying her mind the entire time she had been in the venue: where is spiderwoman?

the detective knew that the lizard showing up wasn’t necessarily guaranteed, but she sort of wished it were. she wanted to see you, even if it meant a giant lizard barging in.

park jihyo should not be thinking of this. maybe the chief thought you could've been a bad influence, jihyo believes you might be a terrible one with how she's thinking right now.

-

taeyong had been finishing up his speech, that’s about the same time the low, goosebump-inducing rumble was heard and felt. 

the entire building trembled.

jihyo looks around frantically, this should be your cue to show up, this should be your time to swing in and piss off the officers.

this should be the time she gets to see you again. 

to be fair, you had shown up, just not as your little arachnid alter ego. just yourself, though jihyo didn’t know that. 

the building shudders again and overwhelms all your senses, and everyone in the room. goosebumps creep up your back, and your so-called “sixth sense” starts acting up.

all the guests who had been in the venue started to chatter quietly; hushed whispers and sudden panic filled the room. the building shakes again and everyone seems to get the message that this isn’t normal, that something is happening and the fact that they don’t know what the hell is happening disturbs them greatly. worry and fear start to crowd the room when a piece of the ceiling falls, it makes you instinctively scan the room—keeping your guard up.

“y/n,” jihyo mutters. she’s observing the space with her narrowed eyes, the other cops seem to overlook with caution too. “stay close.” 

“what’s going on?” you question, but you know the answer to your query as soon as another piece of the ceiling falls over and splits into pieces, leaving some dust. jihyo looks at you for a second, panic and worry in her eyes. all you can think is: i need to get out of this damn place.

taeyong turns around and as soon as he does the wall in front of him completely breaks down. the enormous (and really ugly) lizard invites itself in, emerging (more like barging and breaking in). taeyong falls back, no, he's practically flung away from where he was before; he lands with a blunt thud.

terror fills the room completely. jihyo’s eyes widen at the sight of taeyong on the floor, some blood seeping out of him as he lies there hardly conscious.

the guests scream and run towards the exits while the officers pull out their guns hurriedly and point them at the lizard in sight, their hands quiver and their bodies tremble in fear from just seeing this unbelievable monster. 

you gulp at the sight, it really is an enormous lizard, maybe ten feet tall. the lizard was an ugly, swamp-green shade, it’s really disgusting to look at and its eyes are something out of a nightmare–gross.

 the spider-shaped device under your button-up practically calls out your name, it’s almost screaming in your ear “press me! press me!” and as much as you’d like to listen to it so you could magically turn into a so-called “hero,” you can’t risk people knowing, especially not the cops that are scattered around. 

you’re hidden from a few cops, though it would definitely be noticeable if some random suit had been wrapping around you out of nowhere, someone would notice. despite the commotion that goes on and the panic that's heard from various screams and whimpers, someone would certainly notice the chief’s niece turning into the “friendly neighborhood spiderwoman!”

and that wouldn’t be good, especially if your uncle found out.

there are two options: run away with jihyo and let her find out about your little secret, or let people die. you don't have much time to think—or plan for that matter—maybe you can risk letting jihyo know, it’s about time. it’s your last resort anyway, 

shit.

a groan leaves your mouth and you scan the room impatiently—there are broken chairs, tables, and debris all over—you’re trying to think of how you’ll escape this very inconvenient situation. you spot the sign that says “restrooms” from the corner of your eye and quickly pull jihyo by the arm, rushing over. jihyo’s expression turns into one of surprise and confusion, she looks at you with worry and furrowed brows while you drag her, almost debating whether she should fight against your grip on her.

“what the hell are you doing?” jihyo questions, looking at you distressed as she hears a sudden high-pitched scream and another sharp, loud sound from outside. your fingers work at the button-up you wear, and jihyo quickly turns away as you do so, “y/n? what the hell is wrong with you? why are you stripping now? we have to help-”

“fuck, jihyo.” you mutter, and you give up as you rip the dress shirt open, showing your bra-covered chest. this is not the time for jihyo to be checking you out right now, but shit, your body is like a magnet—one with toned abs and an incredibly satisfying physique that pulls her look towards it. you glance at the quivering bathroom door and continue, “i can’t explain everything now, but i swear i will soon, and please don’t get mad at me. there’s too much going on and i just, i have to go.”

“what the hell do you-” jihyo starts, but her question is quickly answered as you press on the spider logo.

your suit stems out from it and covers your body in seven fleeting seconds. the familiar suit covers your body, and she realizes it's you. her eyes widen and her mouth opens slightly, she looks at you in such shock and nearly stumbles back. 

“i told you i’d be here,” you say. jihyo is left speechless, though she manages to choke out a broken, stuttered response to your "big reveal."

“y/n, you- what the hell?” 

“let’s talk later yeah? help gather the people that aren’t cops, bring them somewhere safe,” you say, and jihyo is still baffled by everything that just happened at the last minute. you put a hand on her shoulder and start again. “jihyo?”

“you can't just, you can't just leave like that? you can't-” 

"i have to help them, detective," you say. your eyes lock with hers as if they could convey a certain understanding.

"god y/n, you... you have to explain everything, i swear to god." she manages to sputter out. you nod at her,

"it's a date then, on me." you joke, trying to lighten the mood and calm her nerves so she can assist you in dealing with this situation. now jihyo knows it's really you. the detective watches you leave the bathroom quickly, though you stop at the door to give her a small thumbs up before departing.

jihyo is at a loss for words—she's not even sure if all her senses are working properly. there's too much to process, but the detective has to do her job, she has to try and save these people, she's going to do what you told her to do.

detective park can do this, detective park can overcome anything, detective park can do her job and compose herself—so that's what she does, and she's completely disregarding whatever the chief had said a couple of days prior:

jihyo is going to work with spiderwoman, she's going to do what spiderwoman says.

[qiupachups]

miles.g / wiles

.｡.+*☆ headcannons 👾💭

contents: general hcs, mention of his father’s death, i call 42-miles ‘wiles’, me sorta bullying him

a/n: after a lot of procrastination and harassment gentle encouragement from @vhstown i’m finally posting my hcs. :3c (they’ve been sitting here since july)

Despite his tough guy exterior and criminal career, he's actually a massive nerd geek. Like: gundham, comics, posters all over his room.

Until you bring up those interests, he won't mention them. But once you start a conversation about them, he can tell you all the lore front to back or tell you where and when each collectible is from. Just listening to Wiles and nodding along will make his day.

Accepting help from others is not an option. Ever. He's an overly D.I.Y guy since his father's death and it's staying that way.

... unless you're very close to him. Wiles will begrudgingly accept your help and then be adamant on repaying you. No matter how trivial it was, he'll show his gratitude through service.

Wiles has great memory and knows all the lyrics to his favourite songs. Go through his playlist and pick something at random- he'll recite them flawlessly!

A good memory also helps with remembering those flashes of songs playing on your lock screen. Just a split second glance? He's adding it to his playlist, maybe listening to it as he works on his latest gear.

Would be a straight A student if he were there half the time. The only thing keeping his total grades down is attendance, where he’s often absent.

However, if he’s in a group project with you, Wiles will put more effort into it. Getting a ‘C’ or GPA point lower is fine if it means keeping Brooklyn safer. What’s not fine is him being the reason for your lower marks.

Unlike his counterpart from 1610, Wiles’ art is more realistic. He tries to capture the subjects’ essence quickly and minimally, so colours are an afterthought.

Accuracy was his pride in art until it came to you. He’d be so nervous in getting your smile right, scribbling failed attempts over and over again. Wiles even resorted to a pencil sketch.

Following the passing of Jefferson, Wiles has gotten much closer to Rio. That’s a no brainer; he was fourteen— a kid. And Jefferson never got to see his son in that overpriced Visions uniform.

Wiles makes an effort to speak more Spanish. He lets his mamí braid his hair even if it hurts like hell. Those stupid telenovelas aren’t that bad on the second watch.

Once upon a time, Wiles used to be a choir boy (keyword: used). He’d love singing hymns and doing nativities before he could read; all for his mamí and dad to see.

However, the christmas after Jefferson’s passing felt… empty. Wiles quickly lost his passion for choir and now just attends mass with Rio at most.

After years of experience being a choir boy, Wiles has the voice of an angel. Not that you’d know, of course— he intends to take that to the grave. But there’s also a deeper, darker secret… he can’t rap to save his life.

An extremely personal and harrowing Musically comment told him so. Following that attack, twelve year old Wiles abandoned his account with only a black profile picture left behind.

Like any other middle schooler, Wiles had a hype beast phase (he denies it). When Aaron got a Hype shirt for Wiles’ 12th birthday, words couldn’t describe how he almost knocked Aaron down with a hug.

The shirt’s first stain had Wiles distraught and furiously searching ‘remove paint on shirt hacks’ on Youtube. His heart would probably stop if he misplaced a gift from you.

Wiles isn’t the best cook, but he can definitely make himself a good meal. With Rio working night shifts and Uncle Aaron doing… jobs, he has to be self-sufficient.

A secret lil’ side project: he’s trying and failing to replicate Jefferson’s mac ‘n cheese. It wasn’t the best, but it was his. Something’s always off when Wiles makes it and he’s not quite sure what.

Sure, cooking isn’t that hard, but baking is like wizardry to Wiles. AP Chemistry and it’s endless calculations felt way easier than making pan de agua with his mamí.

But, mamí didn’t raise no quitter! On a particularly busy birthday, Wiles pulled together a modest little cake for Rio. She burst into tears seeing the shaky ‘!Feliz Cumple!’ written in too-sweet icing.

Calling Earth-42 a wreck is a massive understatement. Shit’s like Gotham, only very real and very deadly. Just breathing in that damn city air makes Wiles’ skin crawl.

Luckily, he’s got an outlet: boxing. A fun hobby he picked up from Uncle Aaron became his release. Wiles might never be in the ring, but Brooklyn’s more than enough.

a/n #2: what the fuck. this was supposed to be short and silly and fun. exsqueeze me how did this… erm. disjointed mess.