#and some FEAR unit stuff

[basil-does-arttt]

AH!! Hello, i am alive!! Apologies for like dissapearing entirely for a while... Anyway, remember how i said ages ago i would draw my original characters???? WELL.

BEHOLD, The main cast!! Closeups + mega yap below ehehe

CASTEL HINAMI:

{THE WOLF}

AGE: 42

HEIGHT: 182 CM (6.0 FT)

SPECIES: PUREBLOOD HELLHOUND

Castel is the main character of the story, and the one who's POV the story takes place from most of the time. Once a respected and renowned Hunter within the underworld, she went MIA during her last hunt in order to prevent Mia from being killed. It was an impulsive decision she made in the heat of the moment, without thinking about the consequenses. She is paying for it now in sanity and blood.

She is a stubborn and strong-willed woman, likes to do things her way or no way, and is no stranger to utilizing violence to solve her problems. But beneath her sometimes hostile demeanor she's got a big heart, she just struggles to show it.

She feels a strange connection to Mia she can't explain, like a sense of de-ja-vu whenever she looks at her. She feels like she's known Mia before, but of course that can't be possible.... right?

Regardless, she's trying her best to give the kid a chance to live a normal(ish) life. Or at least, a life she can feel happy in.

TRIVIA!!

- Castel works in a cage fighting group for a living, as it was the only job she could find that wouldnt leave a trace Hunters could follow. Hence, all her scars.

- She grew up an orphan, parents non-existent. Literally; there was and is no trace of their existence at all. How Castel came to be, is a mystery.

- Enlisted to become a Hunter at 16, actually became a Hunter at 18.

- She has an affinity for spicy food. Girl will straight up eat chillies as a snack.

- She carries at least one of her two weapons on her wherever she goes; A pistol named Crimzon, which was a gift from Amelia for her 25th birthday. And a knife named Skarlet, which Castel engraved herself and painted the blade red.

- Her jacket was stolen from somebody else. RIP to the poor 24 hour convenience store worker she robbed at 2 in the morning....

- Her hair used to be knee-length, however she cut it all off when she began working as a fighter. (that hurt me more than it hurt her.)

AMIRAIAH "MIA" MESSOR:

{THE MOTH}

AGE: 17

HEIGHT: 5.4 FT (164 CM)

SPECIES: PUREBLOOD LUX

The character this whole damn story revolves around, and the one haunting the narrative. A being of unfathomable destruction and chaos all packaged up into a neatly wrapped bow of girlhood teenage angst. She never wanted to get caught up in this, but then again, she doesn't know what she would have wanted instead either.

Her and Castel are similar in more ways than one; Physically, Mia appears much like Castel did as a child. In their childhoods both grew up orphans. She reminds Castel of herself. Mia often speaks to her as if she's known her for years already.

She is a quiet and timid girl, very socially withdrawn and rarely ever talks to people outside of Castel. Others often feel a strange and eerie energy in her presence, as she stares past them like they're not really there.

Although nobody has gone out of their way to tell her, she seems already aware of her fate. To die, or to become a Harvester.

TRIVIA!!

- She cannot fly, despite having wings, as they are too small to support her weight. So she'll often use them as a makeshift blanket instead. Or if she has to hide them, wrap them around her body underneath her sweater.

- The halo can come off, it sorta just.... floats there. Sometimes she wears it on her wrist.

- She likes spicy food, much like Castel! though not to the point of eating straight chillies as a snack..

- Very pedantic about cleanliness and hygiene. Once slept in Castel's car instead of a motel room they'd booked purely because the walls had a stain she couldnt scrub out.

- Cameras, computers, phones, technology in general tends to have a habit of malfunctioning in her presence. Bad luck, or something else...?

AMELIA WILLIAMS:

{THE DEER}

AGE: 45

HEIGHT: 6.1 FT (185 CM)

SPECIES: HALFBLOOD BLOOD-DEVIL

An old Hunter friend of Castel's, the two met when Castel was going through her training to become a Hunter, the two immediately hitting it off and growing close. Very close. They moved in together as roommates as their relationship blossomed, and Amelia believed she had found her soulmate.

That was, until Castel disappeared out of the blue one day with no warning, and no signs of returning. Believing her to be dead, Amelia retired from Hunting and went to live on the surface world, where she set up shop as a gunsmith and started her life anew. Every day missing Castel, but what could she do?

Apparently reunite with her at random one sunny afternoon, when Castel needed a gun repaired. The exact gun Amelia made for her as a birthday gift. Of course she accepted her back with open arms, but maybe.. she was a little lonely.

She's a kind open-minded woman but definitely has her limits with certain things. Hates liars and hates being kept in the dark. She is loyal to a fault, even if it ends up getting her hurt.

TRIVIA!!

- As mentioned above, she is a gunsmith! She picked it up from her foster father as a child, and took over his business after she retired.

- Amelia became a demon through death (hence, halfblood) when she was a young child, having drowned in a lake. She was taken in by a family in the Underworld as if she was one of their own.

- Normally when Halfbloods are formed, their souls are automatically linked to the Network. However, Amelia's was not, and nobody knows why. oh well, handy for if you want to hide from Hunters..........

- Biker chick :3, Is part of a riding group that she met after she retired.

- Her shop is set up in an old barn outside of the town she lives in, and she lives in a bunker she found abandoned underneath it. Refurbished it and now it's her home. Where is the old owner? who knows.

AVELYN WHITE:

{THE BEETLE}

AGE: 30

HEIGHT: 5.8 FT (176 CM)

SPECIES: PUREBLOOD BEAST

A mysterious, enigmatic woman who only appears in shadows to those who already know her name. She is a sorcerer, a demon gifted with the talent of harnessing the magic inherently present within her own and other's souls, and she uses this power to disappear completely from the world;

On paper, Avelyn White does not exist.

Despite all the rumors and such surrounding Avelyn, she's actually not all that scary to be around. She's got a good heart, all she wants to do is help others... for a price of course.

She can come across as intimidating when one first meets her, however if you were to get to know her, you'd find she isnt all that bad after all. A bit socially awkward, very blunt with her words and honest to a fault, but she keeps her word. As long as you keep yours.

TRIVIA!!

- Avelyn has an older sister, who is quite the well known figure within the Underworld; a region leader. The two split off when Avelyn dissapeared, and have not seen eachother for years.

- Avelyn has a strange interest (obsession?) with bugs. Beetles, flies, centipedes, cockroaches, butterflies.. among other things. When she was a child she would collect them in jars.

- The mark across her nose is a birthmark, not a scar. She's had it since she was born.

- Once upon a time she had wings, but they were ripped out by her sister. Nowadays all that remains are the scars and some pretty bad back pain...

- All her little charms each have a certain magical property attached to them. Protection spells to keep herself safe from Hunters that want her head on a wall.

- She keeps her nails sharp purely to scratch Castel when she's pissed off.

- Treats Mia like a little sister of sorts.

RAY DARLING:

{THE CROW}

AGE: 31

HEIGHT: 6.8 FT (207 CM)

SPECIES: PUREBLOOD SHIFTER

The no-nonsense, stubborn, and sometimes a bit egotistical brains of the operation when it comes to hunting down Castel and Mia. They are a highly decorated Hunter in the Underworld with years of experience in hunting down dangerous and difficult targets; There's nobody better you could ask to do this job.

Only, theres one teeny, tiny issue... Castel was Ray's mentor. They looked up to her not just as a friend but as a caretaker, as family. Their role as a Hunter will always come before anything else in their mind of course. At least they're trying to convince themself it will.

They like to perform jobs their way or no way (boy wonder where they picked that up from), very much used to and preferring being the one calling the shots. They've been known to be a little reckless in their hunts too, often putting their end goal above their own safety. Though, they prefer to keep things as clean as possible, utilizing as little violence as possible.

TRIVIA!!

- As suggested by their name, they have the ability to shapeshift. They can take on the appearance of other people (given they know what the person looks like), and they can transform into a crow. (only a crow, or other such corvid, but they prefer the crow.)

- Their eyes are reflective like a cat's.

- Ray's mother was a human human. They are still considered a pureblood despite this, as they were born a demon. However, their scales are mildly deformed as a result.

- Ray suffers from some pretty serious memory loss, as a result of their mother's death when they were a child; From age 6 to 16, they do not remember a single moment of their life. Besides this, they also tend to forget things in their day-to-day life easier than most.

- They have a partner! And he is not what you'd expect... imagine hot topic personified with enough edge and angst for an entire villiage. they love him tho, even if he pisses them off :3

- Pierced their own eyebrow at 19 in a fit of young adult defiance against their father. Also got a tattoo at 19 for the same reason, which was stars across their ribs. They regret both.

- Their father is a chief policeman for the capital city in the surface world. Some Hunters believe he used his influence to help Ray rise through the ranks to their current position, but this has never been confirmed.

- They are vegetarian.

- They lost their leg when they were 19, as it was crushed underneath rubble during their first real hunt.

IVORY KING:

{THE RABBIT}

AGE: 25

HEIGHT: 5.6 FT (170 CM)

SPECIES: HALFBLOOD BLOODSUCKER)

Eccentric, unorthodox, rowdy. Ivory King is the last person you'd expect to have the position and status as a Hunter that she does - one of the best Scouts a Hunter could ask for. Her methods of gathering information and plotting schemes may be a little out of the ordinary, and may sometimes result in more problems than they're intended to solve... but hey. She gets the job done. Somehow.

Regardless of her unique ways, there is no doubt Ivory is skilled and mostly reliable in what she does. There is a reason she was assigned to work with Ray on this job.

Her moods tend to change a lot between two extremes, with sometimes no obvious reason as to why. One day, she can be relaxed and content. The next, the entire world and god is her sworn enemy. One minute she's laughing, the other she's screaming. She can be a little dramatic, a little sensitive, however underneath all this she's a genuine and kind young woman who just struggles a lot to lower her walls and trust other people.

She's been hurt a lot in her past, and she wouldn't like to be again.

TRIVIA!!

- Ivory has two older brothers. One is a guitarist in a band, who's logo is the pendant on her necklace. The other is a detective, who she hates with every fibre of her being and wants 6 feet under the ground immediately. Also she's forced to work with him.

- Ivory passed and became a Bloodsucker at 14 years old, having died via suicide. The collar she wears covers the scar.

- Often carries around a barbed-wire covered baseball bat she named Rex.

- Afraid of dogs.

- She owns a single firearm, which she stole from her detective brother. He never found out it was her that took it.

- Has been to a psych ward exactly once in her life. Has been arrested at least three seperate times.

[freebooter4ever]

btw if anyone is watching the cold war documentary on ntflx? dont bother. lamo this is the dumbest doc i have seen in a while. it leaves out too much stuff, it presents things as true that are blatantly false if you give more information, and it states 'theories' as facts. some facts it just plain gets hilariously wrong. there is an agenda in this documentary that it isnt stating outright, that i am highly suspicious of, and i would be curious to know who is funding it.

[louderfade]

exene talking about the state of the world. the good stuff starts at eight minutes. or you can just read the transcript complete with the usual errors that accompany robot transcribed speech (the irony of which is not lost on me). maybe it's not about transhumanism and living forever (or maybe it is who knows), but there's definitely an agenda of surveillance and control at work which is designed to keep the powerful in power. cash rules everything around me and you will own nothing etc. the future is worse.

[mayakern]

Things are bad right now.

As many of you know, way back in 2020 we weren’t sure if our business was gonna make it. Our factory was already on break for Lunar New Year–a month-long holiday for many businesses in the area–and with the announcement of COVID19, everything shut down indefinitely. We knew immediately we were in for a bad time. Despite our fears, our sales grew so far beyond anything we ever expected, to the point where we had to hire two employees just to keep up with demand! 

Unfortunately, even after our factory reopened, our problems were not over. Their quality drastically declined almost immediately, to the point that a significant amount of our  fabric would literally fall apart in transit between the factory and our office. Because of this, we discovered that our sales rep had no idea what she was doing and knew nothing about the factory she was representing, so when we told her the fabric was garbage her response was “👍 factory said it’s good!” At the beginning, only roughly 10% of our new product was defective and we were able to sell the affected items with a reasonable discount. By the end of our relationship with that factory, 40% of our midi skirts and 70% of our miniskirts were defective, some affected so severely that they practically fell apart when touched. And still, our rep said everything was fine and there were no problems and the fabric composition had not changed.

So in 2022 we changed factories. We hired Ash to handle this since I was way too busy managing fulfillment to do the amount of research and communication necessary to find us a factory that met our criteria. Finding clothing factories that can make clothing over a size 2-3X is significantly more difficult than one that can’t because it often requires larger and more expensive machinery. But Ash did it: she got us set up with a new factory that has excellent certifications for both their labor practices and their methods for textile production, that delivers consistent, high quality sewing on well made fabric that can be printed without suffering loss in detail–and she was armored with the knowledge for what makes a quality garment so she could check them if they tried to screw us on quality. Their minimum orders were way higher than our previous factory’s, so we decided to focus on ordering more units of fewer designs. We ordered way too much our first round–some of those designs were in stock until the 2024 blowout sale! But it worked out, and slowly we had a warehouse full of stuff to sell.

Fast forward to 2024, business is slowing down between the economy being bad and what seemed to be a general skirt fatigue amongst our customers. We tried expanding into shirts, which would’ve been successful if our minimums were lower. In the late spring we realized we were in trouble if we didn’t make drastic changes and we ultimately decided to end in-house fulfillment and transfer to a third party fulfillment center that would support domestic shipping in Canada and eventually the UK, EU, and Australia. In order to make that transition affordable we drastically discounted everything and that sale was super successful! We were able to begin shipping from the fulfillment center with an almost clean slate, even if it did mean having to close the store for almost two months and thereby missing out on two very important months of sales.

Unfortunately, we were stupid. We continued to order new designs on an every other month schedule instead of switching to an every month schedule, forgetting that having a backstock in a variety of designs is what previously helped us float between orders and now we quite literally didn’t have enough inventory to match the sales we made for last year’s holiday sale.

That brings us to now.

We’re a little stuck. We have a round of skirts in production (yay!) but they won’t get here until February (boo!). To get back on that monthly cycle we would need to order the next round of skirts right now, but we can’t pay for production until that next round of skirts gets here; if the current sale goes well, it’s paying payroll, not production. We are currently in the very difficult, horrible situation of not having enough money for next month’s payroll unless we are somehow able to make significant sales with our very sparse inventory.

We’re scrappy and we do our best to adapt to disasters and I’m sure we’ll find a way to adapt to this one as well, it’ll just take us some time to get there. Basically we’re going to be okay eventually–hopefully later this year–but in the meantime if we seem frantic, now you know why. 

If you’re been considering trying out our viscose shirts but haven’t been able to justify paying full price, they’re on clearance PLUS half off right now! That’s $9-$15 for the viscose tops, and other tops on clearance are $20-$45. Some of the shirts we’re having a LOT of trouble selling are now priced below cost to help us recoup some of the money we spent making them.

Any amount of support helps right now. Sharing posts, telling your friends, buying a $9 shirt–all of it helps. If our clothing isn’t your thing, we also have a Patreon you can support for as little as $1 a month. https://www.patreon.com/mayakern

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you have a great rest of your day and that 2025 is a brighter, kinder year for us all.

[tainkirrahe]

so Ruby Sunday was likely meant to be Desiderium before behind the scenes stuff made the show go to all hell.

This is an expansion of the theory I posted on Bluesky (kicked off by this Reddit thread), and maybe I am just copin' and seethin' but. like. even Charles Dickens would think this is all too much of a coincidence to not be Something.

Here's how I think it probably went down before Millie and Ncuti decided to leave early: The Rani kidnaps the God of Wishes and places her with a normal foster family, moving in next door to keep tabs on her, and when the time comes engineers things for the Doctor to take an interest in her (Church on Ruby Road). Ruby's DNA scans as human because she was born to human parents, but cannot be traced in the UK because she was born 180 years ago in Bavaria. And also her mum is flowers.

In Space Babies Fifteen wishes he and Ruby could be Poppy's parents within earshot of the God of Wishes, who unintentionally makes this true when Wish World opens with Ruby and John Smith having Poppy as their kid. Series 1 then plays out much as it had done before, with Ruby's ability to recognise something is wrong with the Doctorless universe in 73 Yards and Maestro's fear of her hidden song because she's a powerful member of the Pantheon. I think the rewrites only began with the ending of Empire of Death - in the original cut, it turns out even the fash DNA supercomputer doesn't know who she is and we're left on a cliffhanger with regards to this.

Ruby decides to take time out of the TARDIS after seeing the whole universe end and whilst Fifteen is off having adventures in Joy to the World she briefly dates Alan Budd before dumping him due to his controlling behaviour during a date where he gifts her a star certificate. She rejoins Fifteen after she is kidnapped by robots from Missrubysunday (with Ruby replacing Belinda this season the star certificate thing is centred on her) and he rescues her, with the time fracture in that episode reversing the events of the episode but leaving Alan's memory intact. He's dumped back on Earth where he becomes determined to ruin Ruby's life and so Lucky Day is about Alan, not Conrad, attacking UNIT/Ruby. At the end of the episode Alan is picked up by an ecstatic Rani who now has the God of Wishes and her ex boyfriend who has a serious grudge against her and wants to change the world for the worst.

Season two remains pretty much the same as well. We then hit the finale which also plays out the same initially - sorry guys I think Omega was always going to be a skeleton baby :( - but with Ruby ending the fake reality by breaking into where Alan is holding her as a baby and touching her baby self's hand, just like the resolution with the certificate in Robot Revolution. The universe resets but Ruby notices Poppy is missing, able to remember her because a) she was the one who cast the wish; b) her experience with parallel universes (73 Yards); and c) her characterisation as an "abandoned" baby who wants everyone to have a home. She uses her powers one final time to bring Poppy back and decides to leave the TARDIS for good and raise her new daughter.

The episode ends with Ruby donning the Rani's cloak and leaving her baby self outside the church on Ruby Road to ensure the timeloop is maintained, changing Fifteen's memory by pointing at the Doctor just as we saw in Empire in order to keep that mystery intact as well.

Fifteen, touched by Ruby's decision, flies off in the TARDIS determined to find Susan. and also rescue Rogue from Superb Hell I guess #justiceforrogue

The end.

(To be clear I adore Belinda, the above was not written to write her out of the show - I think she deserved better in her own story, when clearly she was simply recycled from story beats taken from Ruby).

Some supporting evidence -

• Desiderium is the seventh child of a seventh child. Ruby Sunday's name alludes to both: rubies are the birthstone of July, the seventh month, and Sunday is the seventh day of the week.

• the Goblins in Church on Ruby Road fed on coincidences. Desiderium was born to the Zufall family. Zufall in German means "coincidence".

• The Rani talks about having to keep track of the Doctor's companions to make her plan to summon Omega work, but only actually references Ruby by making a slight about blonde girls. Belinda also has absolutely no impact on The Rani's plan whatsoever, to the extent she was locked in a box for the whole finale, so The Rani's interest in her feels utterly pointless. (Because it was).

• Strong themes of motherhood, childhood abandonment, and adoption paralleling what happened with the Doctor as per Timeless Child revelations throughout the series that make absolutely no sense for Belinda, who came from a home with both parents present. Ruby was always meant to complement Fifteen's recent discovery of his adopted status and help him work through it as he helped her work through hers.

• Space Babies also literally opens the show on a spaceship misinterpreting stories and making them real.

• The odd duplication of fashy boys Conrad and Alan - it makes more narrative sense if they were both once the same character who got sawed in half during hasty rewrites.

• Ruby's name being tied to sevens is similar to River Song, Melody Pond, and Amy Pond being related to water, hinting at their connection.

maybe I am wrong, maybe the show was always meant to be written this way but like. theorising. is also fun!

[sheep-from-rad]

Batfam x Neglected! Ghost! Reader

Note: This is just an idea right now but I will turn this into a series. Currently I have two series in my head, maybe three  if I will try and pursue that fake dating series with Jason Todd and Idol reader. I suck at writing angst so if this turns to a series, it will be a really short one. 

Warnings: MCD, no use of y/n. I use (name) instead, angst

Masterlist

The neglect on Reader was unintentional. Bruce loves them, the family loves them, they check on them every now and then, spend time, hang out, etc. Reader was that one normal kid that flew under the radar because of that Bruce and the family never had to worry about them. Just checking on them once in a while is already good enough to quell whatever fear they have. However, one day, the reader just disappears. 

There were no clues, no struggles, no bodies to be found. The family keeps trying to find reader but at the end the case was closed and became one of those unsolved files at the back of the GCPD archives 

The Wayne manor is not haunted. Sure they have encountered metahumans and heroes (Deadman for example) with power that deals with the spiritual realm but there are no hauntings in the manor, not even scurrying rats. 

The hauntings started when Bruce homed an artifact from Zatanna. He wasn’t supposed to home the artifact but there was a mix up with belongings during one night of crime fighting and he accidentally took the artifact home 

Weird things started happening in the mansion: flickering lights, floating orbs. Sometimes they are also faces and disembodied voices, you know, standard haunting stuff

At first they thought it was just pranks between brothers like they were trying to scare each other as competition and they had the electrical units in the mansion checked. Each family member started pointing fingers at each other until Bruce remembered the artifact and he immediately called Zatanna to take it home

Problem solved, right? Well, not really because the hauntings continued. There were voices whispering at the once quiet halls, shuffling but there was no person present, even Titus and Alfred the cat are now more alert and they always seem to be watching something. 

Seeing no other explanations, Batfam called in help from other heroes to solve the problem. During the ritual though, a familiar person came out.. Well, familiar used to be a human 

“(Name)...is that you?” “...who?” 

Ghost! Reader is a ghost that can’t move on because they have a business left to do. However, in some sick twist of fate, Ghost! Reader doesn’t also remember anything. They don’t know their name, why they are in the mansion in the first place, why they gravitate towards the family. In their head, they just randomly woke up in the mansion and they are a spirit

In other words, I just want to make a fanfic where Batfam is like ‘I want you to stay for a longer time but at the same time I know I had to help you gain your memories back and move on because if we don’t and then your soul will disappear forever’.

[evilminji]

You know how... world leaders can't just? SAY stuff? Because when they DO it's the Offical Stance(tm) of their Country?

That makes their Fuck Ups(tm) all the more serious. It's WHY they have press teams.

But!!!

WHAT IF?

They said something, PUBLICLY, on LIVE TELEVISION, that? Can not be taken back? Full on "masks off, behold the horrors you have payed for" moment?

Sure, they could SAY "that wasn't me" and "I was brainwashed" etc etc. But? If it's BIG enough? UGLY enough? TRUE??? People WILL find it. Dig and dig and dig like termites in the walls. Hunt like bloodhounds.

Riot in the streets.

Because? All it would TAKE? Is ONE half ghost, a few too many long nights trying to balance college classes and his internship, a bigotry filled call from back home, and staring down that empty fridge with just one box of moldering take out, because he's been too busy and stressed to remember to get GROCERIES AND-

Ah.

So this is what "so stressed you feel calm, I have run out of Fucks too give" feels like. Neat. *picks up phone* Hey, Sam? You still at that protest? Outside the presidential speech? Neat. Don't move.

One Phone Line Express later. SAM is telling him to breathe. Maybe... maybe calm down. Think about this. Others around her can see the same "spark of madness" glint in his almost zen like smile.

It Fiiiiine, Sam.

He's just here to Talk.

He disappears. Sam's freaking out. President stumbles but catches himself on the way to the mike. Up in the watch tower, various Magic users choke on their lunches, because a ghost just possessed the United States President.

ON LIVE TELEVISION.

He taps the Mike, smile, leans in real close like he's gonna Tell You Folks A Secret.... Aaaaand~

"The second you Die, you no longer have human rights. Doesn't matter how brief. Heart stops? You're sub-human scum! Non-sentient by American law. We here in the United Stares PROUDLY desecrate the bodies and graves of the dead. Tear apart the immortal souls of the innocent. And condemn you to oblivion crying, begging, and screaming for mercy! Why, obviously, is an act. Because souls don't have the RIGHT to feel fear or pain!

And YES. We do mean EVERYONE'S. Atlantian, Kryptonian, Martian. Canadian, Mexican, Russian, AND Chinese! I could keep going! Once you die? You belong to the United States to experiment on as we see fit! You're PROPERT now! So turn your nonrights having, nonsentient self in to the nearest GIW! For the good of AMERICA. Ectoplasmic Scum!"

*drops mic*

Jaws are on the floor. This was VETERANS DAY. Dead military Heros and smile for the cameras. A cake walk. Do a patriotism, rah rah. There.... there are DIPLOMATS in the crowd. Sure as SHIT, were more then a few foreign nationals WATCHING. Religious leaders looking on in fury, grief, and horror.

Reporters. Oh sweet Jesus the reporters.

The press secretary faints.

PANDEMONIUM. The president, still dazed and confused from being possessed, gets PUNCHED on live television be his VP, a deeply religious if moderately shady man. Take bribes? VP is cool with that. Bootstraps, peasants, and all that. But how DARE you fuck with the Souls of the dead. How DARE you!

Phones are blowing up, questions are being shouted, the JLA Dark FEEL like they should tell somebody about the ghost kid... but also this feels VERY "Call for help-y" so they might throw their weight around instead and pretend they know nothing. World leader are meaningfully staring at their Dear Beloved Dead Grandmother's photos as they send LIVID assistants to hound the American into answering the DAMN PHONE-!

And Danny?

Danny feels calmer now. He has stolen like....700 bucks from secret security's various wallets. He's going to buy himself BOUGIE groceries. Some...some NICE take out. Maybe a little cake. Yeah~ Cake for Danny~

If anyone needs him? No you don't. He needs to go do some shopping, eat, lie on the floor of his shower and just... vibe for a bit under the spray. In the dark maybe. Sleep for a week. Have his food. Yummy little treats.

Or he's gonna fuckin LOSE IT, man.

(Tucker is actively hacking his college schedule as they speak. He KNEW it. Called it! Too many classes! But does Mr "I can handle it" listen? Noooooooo! Now look what happened! Holy SHIT, Danny!)

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[clockwayswrites]

Mx. Minx: ch2 p3

You all voted yesterday, so Minx is back! masterpost this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3

Danny pushed the shirt up and off in one motion. There was the sharp hiss of a breath. Jason closed his eyes.

“Oh Boss, they really did a number, didn’t they?” Danny crooned.

“Sometimes it’s easier to take a hit than dodge,” Jason replied.

“I know.”

Jason hated that Danny knew.

“I’ve got some amazing bruise cream though,” Danny continued. “And luckily none of these have split so we can just do that. Sorry that it’s going to be a bit cold, but I’ll warm it up if I can.”

Jason hummed to show that he heard, but he didn’t talk. He was too afraid that if he talked, he would break the spell in place that was keeping Danny from mentioning all the other scars that lined Jason’s body. He heard a jar open, Danny moving, and then cool cream and hands pressed against his sides. A shudder of a shiver ran through him and then relief. Jason sighed and let his head drop back against the couch.

“Told you it was good,” Danny said smugly. “I took a recipe that another working girl had and tweaked it this through a lot of trial and error. Next time I make some, I’ll make you up a pot too.”

“I won’t turn that down.” Jason wondered if he could even get the recipe. It beat the stuff in the Batcave, which was really saying something, and easily beat the stuff Jason used when he hadn’t raided a Bat safe house recently.

“That’s because you’re not an idiot,” Danny said. “At least not most of the time.”

Jason gave an incredulous little snort. He got no respect in his own damn area.

Just about every other inch of his torso had been dealt with when Danny’s hands finally touched the autopsy scar. Jason flinched. He couldn’t help it.

No one touched it.

“Does this still hurt?” Danny asked, which was an easier question than any of the ones that Jason had been fearing.

“Only in my head,” Jason answered too honestly.

“Okay.” Danny leaned back and started to clean up. “I don’t have anything that will fit you, so you’ll have to go shirtless or put your old one on. If you leave it off, I can toss it in the wash.”

Jason finally opened his eyes and blinked up at the hideous popcorn ceiling and the pink neon like that raked across it. “Wash it, I guess, if you have a dryer too.”

“Yep. First big splurge was to get the units put in,” Danny said. “They’re stuffed in the kitchen, but at least I have them, you know?”

Jason did. “Thanks.”

“Sure. Open up the blue thing, it’s a pill container. Everything’s labeled so take some pain meds, okay?” Danny ordered.

The trash and Jason’s shirt went to the kitchen while Jason did as he was told and tossed back some Advil along more of the drink. Again, Jason was left feeling weird about nudity. He didn’t mind at all being shirtless, other than his scar being out, but there was something oddly intimate about it there in Danny’s apartment.

“Will you be ready to eat or do you need to sit a bit?” Danny asked, interrupting Jason’s thoughts.

Jason shook his head. “No, food would be good. Can I help get it ready?”

Danny tilted his head before shrugging. “Sure. Cabinet to the left of the sink there’s the bowls and stuff. Silverware is in the drawer. You can missing the serving spoons on the counter.”

“Got it,” Jason said and headed through the opening to the kitchen.

It was a tiny room. Two walls were taken up by the cabinets and appliances. Danny’s table, which had only two chairs, was pushed into the corner against the same wall as the door. The only window was over the sink. Despite that, the room felt almost blindingly bright with the pastel pink cabinets, blond butcher block counters, and minty walls.

Or maybe it was the discoball that hung over table that made things blinding.

(Jason tried not to be too distracted by it, he had a job to do.)

Everything was right were Danny had said it would be and he indeed could not miss the old ceramic pot crammed full of spatulas, serving spoons, and the like, so Jason got everything out before he opened the rice cooker to check if it was done. It seemed good enough, so he made a bed of it in the bottom of the bowls. The lid to the crockpot came off next and the small space filled with the smell of spices, meat, stewed vegetables.

“Not bad for barely any work, is it?” Danny asked as he appeared in the kitchen.

“Pretty damn amazing,” Jason corrected as he spooned the goulash like mix over the rice.

“I have water, tea, or some craft beers,” Danny said, arm resting on the fridge door as he frowned into it.

“Water’s fine.”

“Ice?”

“Nah.”

It took a bit of shuffling around each other to get everything and themselves to the table, but nothing spilled so Jason figured it worked. And the food was damn good.

“Thanks,” Jason said, head bent over his bowl. Thanks for the help. The food. The meds. Thanks for caring.

“Anytime, Hood, anytime.”

[starstruckchilli]

Billy Batson Fic Idea:

Billy has been in the Justice League for just over a year, as an eleven-year-old parading in an adult’s body.

Unfortunately, in an especially difficult battle he’s forced to reveal his identity to his teammates, and they don’t take it well.

With a little digging from Batman, his foster history and eventually drop from the systems are exposed. Now the entire JLA view him as a pathetic child in need of saving by them.

Superman orders Martian Manhunter to remove all of Billy memories of Captain Marvel so that they can protect him from the “dangers of hero work.” Subsequently, Billy is fostered by Bruce and placed in the Wayne household.

The batfam keep their ‘bat’ secrets from him, and after six months acclimating to the manor, Billy starts keeping his secrets from them.

Clearly, he’s some sort of meta.

Lightening has been arching off his body in, powerful, sporadic bursts whenever his emotions are particularly heightened. As a citizen of Gotham, he’s well aware of the “no meta” rule and fears what Batman (a cool, cryptid vigilante that he’s never seen before no matter how much it feels like he knows him on a personal level) will do to him.

So he tells no one, especially not his foster siblings.

Furthermore, his mind has been messing with him, inserting fragments of memories that he can’t quite place.

He gets especially dizzy around news stations. He swears he can envision Captain Marvel in detail, despite his certainty that he’d never met the hero. The feeling is so powerful though, to the point that he compulsively starts collecting news articles about “the hero that went missing.” He begins unconsciously seeking connects to his former life.

When Billy works out that Bruce Wayne is Batman, and the Batfam work out Billy has magic, it’s already too late.

Cap’s god-like powers have already returned all of his memories.

Billy is overcome with unadulterated fury at the revelation.

Marvel’s powers have been suppressed within Billy for far too long and they excitably respond to these emotions.

Billy confronts Batman, screaming about how they invaded his mind and stripped him of his autonomy. All the while, thunder and lightening rains down upon Gotham, menacingly striking the manor.

He yells at Batman for coercing him into their family in order to fulfil some sort of guilt complex. They basically kidnapped him and kept him as a pet.

They stripped him of his home, his life goals, his morals, and worse of all, his identity.

Every few words, Billy pauses to yell Shazam. The lightening tears apart the manor, setting the south wing aflame.

Nobody can get close to him without being struck by a particularly vengeful beam of light.

“Shazam. You ripped me from my home. Shazam. You kept me like a pet. Shazam. You stripped me of everything I believed in. Shazam.” He booms, voice thunderous and hateful.

The Mightest mortal looks intimidating as he switches forms. His hair whips in the wind and his eyes glow white with electrical rage.

As he turns of fly back to Gotham, Billy swears that he will never stop heroing for Fawcett, and if the JLA tries to interrupt him, he will have no choice but to treat them as enemies.

Bruce is left to rot in his regret and dread as he watches his foster son that he’d come to love fly away. He puts on his cowl and heads up to the Watchtower with a new resolve; to convince the superheroes that Captain Marvel needs to come back to the league.

In the end, more stuff goes down. Dick and Steph and some other family members go to Fawcett to convince Billy to come home. He ignores them. Bruce is wallowing in the Batcave while presenting weekly PowerPoints to the JLA about Captain Marvel’s essentialness.

Eventually they are all united by a big bad. Bruce saves Billy’s life then Captain Marvel saves the day. He accepts his invitation back into the league and starts living with the Wayne’s again. Everyone is happy. Yay.

Lemme know if u think I should write this lol

[autonomousroboticorganism]

bug trouble (TF Prime)

featuring - Optimus Prime x F!Reader, Bumblebee x F!Reader, Smokescreen x F!Reader, Knock Out x F!Reader, Wheeljack x F!Reader, Soundwave x F!Reader, Shockwave x F!Reader

summary - you have faced some of the worse Decepticons/Autobots with them, so your fear of little organic insects mystifies them

warnings - the Bots and Cons shoot at/step on/crush the spiders, some of them by accident

a/n - i don't condone killing anything but in my opinion this is how they would solve it, as battle-hardened warriors

OPTIMUS PRIME

Optimus and the team had just come back from another dangerous and tiring mission to stop the Decepticons from getting their servos on a relic. The base was suspiciously quiet, and they were sure that you and the other humans hadn't followed them through the ground bridge this time.

So where were you?

Ratchet was at his usual station, chuckling to himself, which earned suspicious looks from Arcee, Bulkhead and Bumblebee.

"Ratchet?" Optimus called. "Where are the children?"

The medic turned to the returned team, "At this point, I don't know. (Name) screamed randomly, and they scattered."

"And you haven't even tried to find them?" Arcee crossed her arms.

"I was just doing that now," Ratchet replied.

"Then why were you giggling like a little girl?" Bulkhead asked.

Optimus walked over to check the screens, spotting you in one of the camera feeds. You were in one of the relic containment units, running around the platform holding the relic, frantically. The Prime immediately turned and walked to that room, leaving the others to bicker. When he opened the unit, you screamed and ran past him, sobbing hysterically.

A little black thing with eight legs was following behind you.

(Name)," the Prime called, "Wait."

He followed you, back to the main area where you circled around Bulkhead and ran back to him, trying to scale his leg. Optimus bent down and lifted you up.

"My love, what is that following you? And why are you afraid?"

"It's a spider!" You wailed, "And it's got eight creepy legs and six creepier eyes!" You shivered. "Stuff of nightmares, really." Tears still streamed down your face.

Optimus looked back down at the arachnid, which was hesitating to follow you up his leg. Arcee shivered as well, the sight of the spider reminding her of her worst enemy.

"I shall get rid of it," the Prime handed you to Arcee before reaching down to pick up the arachnid. It crawled onto his digit, and in his attempt to grab it with his other servo he accidentally crushed it. "Oops."

You shivered when he reached for you again, "Optimus, I love you but if you touch me with the remains of that infernal thing on your servos, I will jump out of your hands and accept my fate."

The Prime was even more confused, but complied and only reached for you when he had cleaned his servos. You happily returned to him, relaxing in his hold.

"You have faced the likes of Starscream and a zombie Skyquake," he looked at you, "Yet you fear a little earth arachnid?"

You pouted, "Did I mention the eight legs and six eyes?"

Optimus was still confused, but comforted you nonetheless. He held you and stroked your back soothingly with one digit, telling you about their mission to distract you. It worked, for the most part.

BUMBLEBEE

All Bumblebee wants to do after a long day of fighting Cons is to sit and have you curl up to him as you watch a movie. The feeling of you against him always calms him, and never fails to destress him after a mission.

Unfortunately, when the team got back there was no sign of you or Jack, Miko and Raf. Only a giggling Ratchet, which set off alarm bells in Bee's processor.

The scout beeped a few times, asking the medic where you were.

"I did not know myself," Ratchet replied, "Until I took a look at our surveillance systems." He stepped aside to show the team.

Bumblebee spotted you immediately, and he immediately grew concerned. You were on his berth in his berthroom, shaking and frantically looking around but otherwisd stuck there for the time being.

The scout beeped worriedly, rushing off to save you from whatever horror was in his berthroom. When he opened the door, he saw something black with multiple legs scuttling around the room, and you were sobbing on his berth.

"Bumblebee!" You cried out when you saw him. "Blasters out, please!"

He beeped, asking why, and when you pointed to the arachnid on the floor he asked, Why do you want me to shoot something so small? It seems harmless. When you burst into even more tears, he quickly corrected himself, I mean, you've gone up against Starscream and Knock Out! Why does this thing scare you?

"Bumblebee please!" You begged, "I'll explain after, please just get rid of it!"

The scout obliged, blasting the arachnid to bits before coming closer, picking you up. You offered him rushed, relieved thank you's, before promptly burying yourself in his neck cables.

"It's got eight creepy legs," you complained to him, still shivering. "And six even creepier eyes. I hate them so much. I won't sleep for the next few nights."

Bumblebee beeped again, I will always protect you.

"I know...but these creepy crawlies..." You shivered again. "I would rather get kidnapped by Knock Out than face one of these again."

Bumblebee whined, Don't say that!

You laughed, kissing his faceplate, "Thank you, my hero."

His chassis puffed out in pride.

KNOCK OUT

Starscream could be very annoying, this much you knew. He often got on Knock Out's nerves, more so than the doctor let on. But there were apparently no limits to heeled Decepticon's cruelty, because somehow he had found out about the human fear arachnophobia.

Because now the eight-legged abomination was scuttling around Knock Out's lab, stranding you on the tool table.

This was how the medic found you, on your hands and knees peering over the edge of the table. You were trembling, something he'd never seen you do. There was a wild, fearful look in your eyes that didn't match your usual behaviour, and Knock Out looked around.

"Am I missing something?"

You screamed and fell backwards, chest heaving, "Knock Out! Don't scare me like that!"

"You were scared long before I got here, sweetheart. What's the problem?"

"You don't see it?"

Your eyes once again landed on the floor, glued to something that was moving. He looked down, his optics narrowing in on the small, furry eight-legged creature.

"What is that?"

"A spider!" You shuffled back on the table. "Please get rid of it!"

The mad doctor looked confused, "You've come with me to battle Autobots, and have stood in the middle of our fights, but you afraid of something so tiny?"

You glared at him, "Count its legs and eyes before you judge!"

He sighed, but got rid of the arachnid by stepping on it. Then he proceeded to complain about getting his pede messed, and you face-palmed. At least you were calm now and no longer shaking, so he decided to ignore that.

"How did a spider even get on the ship?" He asked you, scooping you up and placing you on his shoulder - something he seemed to enjoy.

"Take one guess."

"Screamer?" He already knew the answer without your confirmation.

"Mhm."

Knock Out didn't take kindly to anyone messing with what belonged to him. Especially if it was his precious little human. So the next time Starscream needed repairs, you laughed when you heard his repair had malfunctioned, knowing that the mad doctor had purposely sabotaged it.

SMOKESCREEN

Every time Smokescreen thought he had found out all he needed to know about the human race, he was smacked in the helm with something new. He hadn't even considered that you had fears, since he had seen you face Decepticons and not even flinch.

Yet here you were, screaming murder and running away from a little black thing with eight furry legs. The rest of the team looked up from their positions, Miko's face paling as she took off as well.

"What's that?" Smokescreen looked at Bumblebee, confused.

Bumblebee beeped a few times, explaining that spiders were eight-legged, six-eyed arachnids that freaked you and Miko out like nothing else.

Smokescreen looked at you again, before going over and picking you up. He didn't understand your fear, but he didn't want you to feel scared when he was right there.

"It's okay, I got it!"

He tried stepping on it, but it scuttled away. He set you down on his shoulder and tried to grab it, which made you yelp and attempt to scale down his back.

"No no no!" You kept muttering, shivering and shaking like you were in some kind of horrible trance.

"It's so small!" He grit his dentae, reaching for it again. "This thing isn't as scary as some Decepticons." He meant well. He just sometimes said stupid things.

"I would rather fight Starscream again than be around that thing!" You cried, climbing as far back as possible as he finally got a hold of it. You slipped and fell off his shoulder, but Smokescreen's reflexes were great. He caught you in his other servo.

"Uh, Smokescreen? Not a good idea," Arcee watched as your whole body went rigid when the spider escaped his grip and crawled along his arm.

You screamed so loudly you might have damaged his audials, but he realised his mistake and quickly handed you to the nearest Autobot as he frantically looked all over his body, trying to locate the infernal creature. He managed to get it, but only after he sped out of the base to remove it outside, to prevent you and Miko from passing out.

When he got back, you shivered but allowed him to pick you up again, and he grinned, "I don't understand it, but if it scares you it's probably bad, right?"

You smiled.

WHEELJACK

Wheeljack is pretty fearless, so you often feel intimidated by him and insecure about your own fears. You never told him about your deathly fear of arachnids, and he never asked. He assumed you were like him, not scared of anything.

That is, until today.

When he got back from a mission with Bulkhead, he immediately sought you out. Even Miko was missing, which the green Autobot found strange.

"Where's (Name) and Miko?" Wheeljack asked Raf and Jack, who were playing a racing videogame.

Jack shrugged, "Haven't seen them since we got here after school."

That was even more odd. Usually you would be here waiting for him to get back from wherever if he wasn't here. Then, moments later, a scream rang out through the base. Wheeljack recognised that as yours and took off towards the sound.

When he found you, he stopped dead.

You were running in circles around his berth, looking over your shoulder. He tried to spot what was apparently chasing you, and only did so when the thing scuttled out from behind his berth, in the direction you were headed. You screamed again and changed directions.

"What is that?" Wheeljack asked, confused on why you were so terrified.

"Spider!" You wailed, running to him and hiding behind his massive leg. "Kill it!"

He raised a big metal eyebrow, "You're scared of that tiny thing? You've faced vehicons and Dreadwing with me and that little creature is what's shaking you?"

You groaned, "I knew you would judge! Where's Bulkhead?"

"Okay, okay, no need for that," he grumbled and picked you up, setting you carefully on his shoulder before kicking the arachnid, sending the dreaded creature flying and hitting the wall. It crumpled, laying on its back and curling inwards.

"Thanks," you sighed in relief, but still looked tense. "Now get rid of it."

"It's dead."

"Dead and no less creepy!" You protested.

"Yeah, yeah." He rolled his eyes, but got rid of the dead spider. When he got back, he watched you carefully. "You good now?"

"Much better," you confirmed, but still looking like you had seen a ghost.

"Come here."

Wheeljack wasn't a cuddler, but he figured the best thing to do as your boyfriend was get in some snuggles to soothe you. And maybe, MAYBE he enjoyed it too, but Primus forbid he ever admit that out loud.

SOUNDWAVE

Like Knock Out, Soundwave didn't understand how an earth creature got on the ship. And since you seemed so horrified, he concluded that you didn't bring it with you.

He was aware the second you're terrified, as predicted, so you didn't have to scream and cry for help. You just hid wherever you could, and waited for the silent Decepticon to find you.

He stopped his work to come check on you, and to deal with the cresture that was inspiring such fear. Once he's in his berthroom, it's not hard for him to locate the arachnid, and he got Laserbeak to carry it out and drop it off the Nemesis.

He then scanned his room for you, finding you in a little crevice under his berth. He coaxed you into coming out, tilting his helm as if asking why you were afraid of such a little thing.

You shivered, your eyes scanning the room before looking at him, "They're scary. Did you see how many eyes and legs it has??" You shivered again.

Soundwave patted the top of your head, comfortingly. Then he tilted his helm again, words appearing on his visor, You have been through far worse, encountering the Autobots and other Decepticons.

"I know but these things are the stuff of nightmares!" You complained. "I would rather fight any Cybertronian than be in a room with one of these again..."

He nodded in understanding, not quite understanding your logic there but there but nonetheless agreeing. Whatever made you less scared was preferred, after all, he didn't like seeing how terrified you had been.

Feeling better? Popped up on his visor.

You nodded, calming down, "Much. Thank you."

He displayed a red heart.

SHOCKWAVE

Shockwave was used to dark, confined spaces with rodents and other creatures scuttling around. He had been stuck on Cybertron for years, after all. So he doesn't think much of it when an earthly creature finds its way aboard the Nemesis.

Until it starts to bother you.

He walked into his lab one day to see you on your hands and knees on his tool table, peering over the side. He instantly noticed the slight tremble of your small form, and approached you cautiously.

"What is the matter?"

You screamed and jumped despite his careful approach, turning to him with wide, frightened eyes before snapping them back to whatever was on the floor.

"There's a spider!"

"I do not understand."

You turned back to him, but your eyes flickered to the ground every so often, "These earth creatures with six eyes and eight freaky legs."

Shockwave nodded in understanding, before tilting his helm, "You are around Decepticons who are much larger than you, and coukd squash you easily, yet that tiny insignificant creature frightens you? That is illogical."

You sighed, "That thing is just creepy okay! I can handle giant Decepticons, I just can't do spiders." You shivered.

Shockwave didn't argue, going over to the bug and studying it for a second before picking it up and making his way out of the lab to get rid of it. You relaxed when it was gone, and when he came back you were lying on your back, trying to overcome your shivers.

"It is gone."

"I know, thank you," you sat up. "It just feels like smaller ones are crawling all over me."

He reached out to let you climb onto his servo, keeping you close to him to comfort you while he continued his work.

[noxemma]

Parts 1&2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |

@colorlessjay thank you so much for the awesome story idea and the inspiration for the title, I really dig the idea of a romance in reverse (I'm not a phenomenal artist but this came to me in a vision, so I had to give it a go 😂). Hopefully you enjoy this next installment (Cas POV this time) as much as the last ones

---

Steering through the Rearview: A Romance in Reverse

First comes love a kid(napping), then comes a marriage ... Yeah, they're definitely doing things in the wrong order, but maybe, if they're lucky, they can figure out how to reverse their way into something real.

---

Castiel takes the hint when Dean turns up the music. Not that he minds; he's not sure what had possessed him to say those words to Dean.

That's not entirely true, Castiel mentally chastises himself. Dean's words may have been gruff and stained with anger, but his eyes. His eyes had been sad and full of ... Caged hope? No, that doesn't sound quite right. It's not caged exactly, more like ... Castiel looks at Dean, searching for the right words to describe the beautiful and complicated man beside him.

Dean must feel him staring because he darts a quick, nervous smile his way. Hobbled, maybe. Unable to run free, but still wild and wanting inside.

"What? Do I have somethin' on my face?" Dean asks, turning the music down and letting out a chuckle that sounds forced.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare, I just got ... lost in thought," Castiel rushes to explain, trying to will the heat back down that he feels rushing to his cheeks. "Sam's written several stories about traveling. Lovely pieces full of nostalgia and wonder. I assume those were trips taken in this car, with you and your father?" "Uh," Dean starts, one hand coming off the wheel to rub at the back of his neck. A nervous habit, Castiel is quickly learning. "Yeah. I guess they must be. This was the most stable home we had for a good chunk of our childhood." Dean shoots a glance at Castiel, magnificent green eyes wide, like he's confessed something he shouldn't have, or didn't mean to. "That would make sense, then," Castiel responds with a warm smile that he hopes is reassuring.

He understands not wanting to talk about rocky childhoods. Or fathers, for that matter. So, while Dean's admission only stokes his already blazing curiosity about the man, he forces himself to let it go and let whatever band Dean has playing take over the conversation. To his surprise, Dean doesn't take the out, choosing instead to continue talking.

"Uh, Sam told me he, um, well, whenever I agreed to this, he told me that he wrote a lot about our childhood for your class. He also said you were ridiculously smart, so you'd probably be able to put some stuff together." Dean's not looking at him, but Castiel can see his hands tighten on the wheel and his shoulders tense. "He did," Castiel admits. "Although it is a creative writing class so I can't be sure how much is real and how much is fictional. But, well, we tend to write what we know. I try not to read too much into them, unless of course I'm worried a student might harm themselves or someone else. However, one story of his in particular does stand out."

"Yeah?" Dean's answer is breathless and high, compressed fear dampening the sound.

"It was about a boy and his brother and their father. They lived on the road, chasing down supernatural entities, trying to get revenge for their dead mother," Castiel tells him slowly, verbally approaching with his hands raised to show he means no harm. "It was really wonderful, best in the entire class, though I'm sure it was written with a heavy dose of creative license. Or did you really hunt monsters across the United States?"

Dean lets out a whoosh of air, relaxing back into the seat and letting color come back into his knuckles. "No. And, yes, kind of. Man, Sam has one hell of an imagination," Dean lets out a relieved laugh before continuing. "Mom died just a few months after Sam was born. House fire, or well, arson. The guy they think did it was a criminal who skipped out on his bail, but the police could never track him down. I think that's part of the reason why Sam is going into criminal law. Anyway, Dad took it hard and became a bounty hunter. It gave him a sense of purpose and resources to work on Mom's case in his spare time, for a little while anyway. But, as the years went by, and the leads went cold, he started taking comfort in a bottle. He was drunk when he totaled Baby. Nearly killed Sam and I." "You were in the car with him? How old were you?" Castiel manages to bite his tongue after the second question escapes his lips. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry." "Nah, it's okay. It's practically ancient history now. I was seventeen, Sam was thirteen. Dad kept insisting he was fine to drive, and I tried to argue. And I know I should have tried harder, or hidden his keys or something but, but there was just no getting through to him when he got that way ..." Dean's eyes go far away and Castiel is pretty sure he's seeing something other than the road. His jaw clenches and he gulps before he blinks, eyes refocusing. "Anyway, can't change the past. Sam was in the backseat, so he was the least hurt, which was a fucking miracle." "And you?" Castiel breathes, riveted and horrified as more pieces of Sam's writing slot into place; the pretty paint facade of fiction washing away from the story, revealing the uglier truth behind it. Dean rubs his neck again, hesitating before admitting, "I was in the hospital for over a week. Bobby and his wife Karen fostered us until I turned eighteen. Gave me a job at his junkyard and taught me how to be a mechanic. Helped me get my GED and paid for me to go to trade school and get my ASE certification. Not to mention he helped me petition the state for custody of Sam once I had full-time employment and an apartment in my name." Before he realizes what he's doing, Castiel's hand is on Dean's knee, squeezing reassuringly as he says, "I'm so sorry, Dean. No child should have to go through that. I'm glad you had someone like Bobby to help you." "Thanks, Cas. Me too. But, like I said, it's all ancient history now." They both know he's lying but Cas doesn't call him on it because he's too busy trying to remain calm when Dean lowers his hand to cover his own.

"Cas?" Castiel asks, cursing how breathy his voice sounds and pulling his hand slowly back into his own space before he does something irrational like skipping the wedding and just driving around for the next few days. "You've called me that a few times now."

"Yeah. Cas. You know, the shortened version of your name or, as it's more commonly known: a nickname," Dean rolls his eyes, laughing like Cas has made some great joke. He stops when Cas just stares at him in confusion. "Hang on, has no one really ever called you that before?" "Um. No?" Dean's mouth drops open, and he stares at Cas in the passenger seat for long enough that Cas is worried they might start to drift off the road if he doesn't snap him out of it. "My parents were, um, very formal and ... strict," Cas explains quickly, pitching his voice high in a poor imitation of Naomi, "'Castiel, if I wanted you to be called something else, I would have put it on your birth certificate.'" Dean let's out a snort and the cold dread, which had begun squeezing its icy fist around Cas' chest at the memory of the woman who gave birth to him, recedes at the sound. "Seriously? Man, I can't imagine if I had to run around calling Sam 'Samuel' for the rest of his life. What kind of name is Castiel anyway? European?"

"Biblical. My parents were also extremely religious. They named all of us after angels. Michael, Gabriel, Lucifer." "Damn, and here I was feeling bad about myself for being named after my grandmother, Deanna. Although at least you aren't Lucifer. Does he really go by that?"

"He went by Nick until he died few years ago. Or at least that's what Gabriel told me," Cas admits.

Dean shoots him another look but doesn't press. Instead, he mimics Cas' action from earlier, right hand coming off the wheel to squeeze his leg. He knows the action is supposed to be comforting, but knowing doesn't stop the heat sizzling up his veins.

Cas closes his eyes to fight against the feeling. It doesn't help; green eyes and freckles emblazon against the back of his eyelids.

How long has it been since someone, besides Charlie or my students or Jack, touched me, intentionally? Months? Years?

Cas stifles a groan. Because it doesn't matter. It's clearly been long enough that his body is responding disproportionately, and he has to stop it. Now. So, he starts talking about the one thing he knows for sure will kill any errant desire he's feeling.

"My parents disowned me when I came out to them. Gabriel is the only one who still speaks to me. He would have probably been disowned too if he hadn't kept the family name and become so successful so quickly. This wedding is actually the first time I'll be seeing any of them beside him in well over a decade now." "Shit, sorry, Cas," Dean blurts before chewing his lip and darting more glances his way, clearly debating something. "You can ask whatever it is you're wondering," Cas encourages, welcoming the distraction. "Uh, why are you going to this wedding then? I mean, I get that they're family, but well, to quote Bobby, 'family don't end in blood. And it don't start there either.'"

The voice Dean puts on when quoting his surrogate father wrings a laugh out of Cas and the dangerous heat of attraction is replaced with an equally dangerous, though less embarrassing, warmth centered father up his body.

"I'm getting the idea that Bobby was a very wise man. But, to answer your question: I'm going because Jack is actually my biological nephew. I was friends with Kelly, his mother, and I raised him like my own when she died from complications shortly after giving birth. She never put Lucifer on his birth certificate and her parents never contested her choice to name me his as his godfather and legal guardian. But, somehow, Naomi and Chuck have found out about him, and they are threatening to petition for custody of him if I don't show up."

"Why? On what grounds?" Dean explodes, barely contained fury adding a growl to the words that sends a tingle up his spine and forces him to shift in his seat. "I'm a single father and a man who wouldn't be able to afford the house I'm living in if it wasn't paid for by my more successful brother, and gay on top of that," Cas ticks off, "Plus a few others, I'm sure."

Dean stays silent, but rage radiates off him in heavy waves. Cas is just about to try and call off the whole ridiculous idea, sure Dean will agree now that he knows what he'll be up against, when Dean's face brightens and he pins Cas with a wild stare, stealing the breath he was about to use to speak.

"Hey, Cas. How do you feel about being fiancés?"

Cas, ever a pillar of grace and decorum, chokes on his own spit.

"Shit, sorry. You're Sam's favorite professor and I'm pretty sure he can kill me without leaving a trace, so please don't die!"

"Why-" Cas starts, coughing and gasping a few more times before managing to get the rest of the question out, "Why would you want to be my fiancé?" "Well, you're gorgeous and kind for one, so who wouldn't want to be your fiancé," Dean says with a wink at him and Cas is grateful that his face is already red from nearly choking to death on his own saliva. "But I was thinking, we were already going to pretend to be boyfriends, right? So why not go for gold? We can knock off at least two of those reasons you mentioned. I practically raised Sam so I'm no stranger to the whole parent thing. We become fiancés and suddenly you're a two parent, dual income household. I mean, I'm not rolling in wealth by any means, but I do okay enough, though most of the money I make doing restorations goes to helping Sam out with tuition, but they don't need to know that."

"But we don't know anything about each other, how would we be able to convince my parents that we're planning on getting married?" Cas challenges, not quite daring to hope that they might have a chance at pulling this off. "Well, we've got approximately five hours to figure it out. Plenty of time, plus we already know a lot about each other." Cas tilts his head and opens his mouth, but Dean answers his question before it can escape.

"You know that I have a younger brother who I raised, that I work as a mechanic and a car restoration expert, not to mention you apparently already described me to 'Uncle Gabe,'" Dean takes a breath and hurries on before Cas can interrupt, not that he would, "I know that your parents are mega douchebags who don't appreciate what an amazing son they have. I know that you're an English professor at Stanford and that you're an amazing dad, aside from a slight oversight in the stranger danger department. But most importantly, I know that Jack belongs with you and I'm willing to do whatever I can to help make that happen."

Cas' heart thuds in his chest at Dean's vehement declaration. "I- Thank you, Dean," Cas manages before his throat closes up entirely and he's blinking rapidly to keep the moisture forming in his eyes from falling onto his cheeks. "Great!" Dean chirps, flicking on his turn signal and changing lanes to speed around a slow-moving truck. "So, babe. How did we meet? Because, somehow, I feel like telling your folks that I accidentally kidnapped your son will be counterproductive."

[hoodedjelly]

my Jenny, Tuck, Brad, Shelden, and Vega older designs ^__^

i'm watching mlaatr, still not done, i think i got like 10 more eps (and if i'm being transparent i skipped around eps... i just wanted to see vega...). And i'm absolutely loving the show!!!! i love these characters a lot, didn't like Shelden at first i'm going to be honest, #1 Shelden hater for a bit there. but he chilled out in season two and i started to ship breldon with that too so now i just love him so much.

more about my personal headcanons:

Jenny: - I am under the belief that she is transgender. Jenny was made genderless, so her deciding to be a girl was strictly her choice and i believe that makes her trans. (She's also a lesbian) - she did grow a bit, im not gonna explain how idc really i just liked her being a taller lady :-) - she has A LOT of different cute outfits and hair styles, honestly too much to draw. she never transforms back into her base show outfit when crime fighting, she just fights in her cute summer dress she don't care. - her and vega are dating grrgrgrrrr - when vega is in rule she makes it so there is complete free access between earth and cluster prime for citizens in both places. - I say that cause i think when jenny is older she moves in with vega, technically living in cluster prime but visits earth like everyday. And brad/shelby/tucker/wakeman visit cluster prime - Jenny also hangs out with the nicktoons unite gang, but i deffo feel like its just that secondary friend group that you don't talk to with for months. when you talk again its the same goofiness as before - i think danny calls for her help when he needs it (also manny) Tuck: - he is still a little shit but we love him - adhd boy - questioning cis (he/him) - he got into robotics/stem and builds little silly things - with that, he gets help from Shelby - pretty much just a silly teen, he's on the internet a lot and has "cringe" interests - but idk he's having fun and being silly and finding himself (those interests is stuff like sonic and among us) Shelden(Shelby) - honestly kinda nervous about ppl thoughts on my Shelden, idk it makes so much sense in my brain - hits you with the transfem beam (she/they) Pansexual (she just wants anyone type of vibe) - I think when jenny is visiting vega often that leaves Shelby and Brad hanging out alone a lot. which they don't mind honestly, they are actually good friends! - but during that they just get closer and start catching feelings. Shelby eventually lets go of her feelings about jenny and realizes they were a real jerk and weirdo to her. brad helps them through that and eventually her realizing she's trans. blah blah they in love and kiss at some point. - Shelby is also a furry lmaooo her fursona is a cat.

Brad: - bisexual cis man (he/him) - Still his old brad self if i'm being honest. - totally forgot to say i think all 3 of them go off to college together (even though jenny doesn't have to i feel like she would prob want to just for the experience, but tell me if you think differently i'm still unsure) - i really don't know what else to say sorry brad! he's literally just as silly as ever man. he's just also gay - i will say here i feel it takes a lot longer for shelby and brad to start dating then jenny and vega. they got that slow burn kinda shit going on, since a lot of that is shelby being confused about her feelings. and jenny and vega just hit it off right away if im being honest, very high school sweethearts. - (also i think shelby makes brad make a fursona to match hers, so brad got a dog fursona)

Vega: - Lesbian cis (she/her) - That ending of her just ruling cluster prime was just so crazy to me cause like, aint she like 16? - i think she has a lot of stressed nights and fearing she's not doing the right thing for her people, and jenny tries to help as much she can - that is why jenny visits so much, she wants to help her. - very much got those nights were she accidently falls asleep at her desk, jenny finding her and giving her a blanket and a kiss goodnight - it's not like she's unhappy, she is actually very very passionate about her work and wants to NOT be like her mom - and yeah she deffo goes to robo therapy for the stuff with her mom. - i think it's a conflict where vega is scared her mom is gonna come back and jenny has to reassure her that if she does they'll get rid of her for good.

imma be honest a lot of my hcs are pretty half-baked and random things, im sure im going to think of more stuff in the future but that will be in different posts.

[pushingdaisies1]

Kinda hate you, kinda love you . . . ♡

(✧ ˚.) PAIRING-> James "Logan" Howlett {A.K.A} Wolverine x Reader >_< (✧ ˚.) SUMMARY -> Being an X-men was a lot for you to sign up for. Well.. you didn't have a chance to deny this safe haven. The school became your home and the people that made up the X-men like a weird little familial unit. You had many reasons for staying as long as you did, but one was more prickly and jaded. The feelings you harbored for a stern and calloused Logan were.. weird for you to feel firsthand. One day, you are stuck overlooking a danger room drill between Gambit and Logan. With the new member of your world-saving team Jubilee by your side, it's too dull to NOT talk with each other. She was a good kid, hyperactive and spirited that's for sure. You talk, and talk a lot you do to the human embodiment of the fourth of July. It makes you think a little bit too hard about yours and Logans... predicament. (✧ ˚.) AUTHORS NOTE -> Hiii!!! This is my first time writing stuff for Logan so - bee tee dubs it may be complete and utter horse shit. I'd like to thank @velvrei for helping me ignite some well-dead thoughts. Genuinely love ur work sm and reading that and a lot more new/old logan content helped TONS. This is linked to the {♡x-men animated series/x-men97♡} series. I do wanna write more for the Deadpool timeline xmen/early 2000s timeline xmen!! But after seeing the masterpiece that is Deadpool and Wolverine, I lowkey just clung to those shows. I love animated Logan!! He is even more emotionally stunted/sassy sad!! (✧ ˚.) CWS (?) -> Logan nd u are sad ppl who don't know how to voice ur feelings!! , pining from afar/one-sided not so one-sided yearning, UHM HURT/KINDA COMFORT??? MAYBE??? I THINK??? , unprompted suggestiveness from logan , mentions of struggling to connect with other ppl/fears of the future (bay bay jubilee my love) , u and Jubilee just kinda bond, off topic idk cajun dialect so..... , and u infodump as a weird suto older sister/mom in her life, this was all very spur of the moment so uhm - not proofread!!! kinda!!!!!!!

The dangeroom was a room a lot of the X-men team spent their time in. To either train for a new threat or for general movement, drills were a common theme. Especially after world-shaking events, which were always somehow a constant, the professor was the equivalent of an alarm clock. Drills this, always having to run down into the war room. You didn't mind the training sessions if it was one-on-one or even with the whole team. Sometimes though, it was almost nagging. 

Though there were little things you'd do to pass this time. If you were made to overlook it or otherwise. Most of the time there didn't need to be supervision within the training center itself. Everyone was on high alert, and off days were few and far between. Logan had been hashing it out with Gambit all morning and wanted to do a specific procedure setting. You held your head in your hands as you sighed at the grown men's demands. Gambit was a professional sweet talker, Logan wasn't when needed. Of course, you complied, understanding the sudden want for more extensive training. When Jubilee volunteered you started to not loathe the idea of sitting in on Logan and Gambit - literally butting heads. 

Jubilee was a nice kid, you felt bad for her sudden entrance into life within the school. The professor was welcoming as always. With your push and her foster parents wanting her to be safe from threats like the sentinels, she was a bonified member.

Being the "newbie" always had its drawbacks. From day one you made sure to have her back, you could relate to her whole fish-out-of-water point of view. Logan saw the way you attached fast to the kid. He was like a vault of thoughts and feelings. Thoughts and feelings he never wanted to bring up or even let alone talk about. But it made your heart flutter just a tad when he sat his hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing a thumb against it.

He had stopped you before you were about to retire to your room. In the doorway to your personal, pillow escape he made sure to reel you down to earth. "Give the kid some breathing room. I know you want to help but there's no use for you smothering her."

You were almost baffled. What was he going on about? You were just looking out for her? Deep down, you did know what he meant. He might have not been a long-term X-Men member. But he did know you and the fragments of "memories" you held so dearly close to your chest. You two were so different and yet one in the same. Before you could even argue, he gave you a small .. somewhat comforting pat on said shoulder. "Just a friendly word of advice bub, don't take it so close to heart. Oh wait, that's inevitable." He joked at you with his signature toothy grin. You couldn't help but scoff in surprise and laughter as he jabbed at you with his SINGULAR witty remark.

Logan could be many things. Rough around the edges, even a total asshole when he felt like it. But to you, he was your kryptonite. It was pathetic the way you'd always eventually be pulled to bend at that man's every word. He just did that to you, and you had no answer to it. 

Making your way up to the upper room with Jubilee, you watched with tired eyes as the door to the observation room slid open. Cold - walls and floor head to toe with this sleek metal texture. There were two chairs, right behind the control panel where the training sequence(s) would be initiated. Your eyes were trained on the window as you watched Gambit and Logan make their entrance inside the training room itself. Gambit of course was rapidly shuffling a deck of cards. They were almost flying in the palms of his hands as he prepared them. Logan was of course blabbing his big mouth, in his signature suit "lumbering up" as he would call it. Finally, as you just now sat your bottom into the smooth-cushioned observation chairs, Jubilee was already starting the conversation. Thank god for you as you were still shaking the morning off of you."So what? , we just watch them throw around with each other, or what?" She cracked with a curious glance at the two men down below. You rested your chin in the palm of your hand as you leaned back. "Pretty much, we're here just in case the system doesn't shut down in time. Sometimes it does that."

She paused before she gave you a pointed look, her chunky pink sunglasses almost falling off of her black head of hair. "We're babysitting them!?" She retorted with a sort of faux annoyance. "I mean it's 'something' to do but - come on...." She groaned as she crossed her arms, heavy in on the air quotations. Cutting in, you directed your hand to the control panel. "No no no, not just that.”

Gathering your thoughts, you pointed out each scenario on the deck. You couldn't help but crack a smile at Jubilee's small "ohs" and "ah's". With the development, you two were brought into a nice steady stream of conversation. Hunched in her seat, yellow boots crinkling in this position, she poked and prodded you about your style and so on. it was nice to be looked at with such idealization. Her eyes were huge with wonder as she jumped to questions and searched for answers. Though it was only so nice until the two of you were interrupted by the impact of a card deck. As it smacked against the window, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

Hitting the intercom, you cleared your throat. "So sorry gentlemen! You two ready or what?" You retorted as you leaned over the panel. Gambit gathered back the cards into his hands. "Me? , 'course cher! Any day I would love to stick it to da fuzz ball over der." He remarked with a scheming smirk. Logan growled as his claws immediately sprouted from his knuckles. "I'll show you fuzz ball you pest." His lip curled up almost like a predator ready to pounce.

Jubilee sat back quiet as a mouse as she watched you talk through to the two. "Alrighty alright! Save the pouncing for later." You barked with a small chuckle at the end. You couldn't help but feel buzzy at the way Logan reared his head up. Gambit was too busy swapping cards from hand to hand. But all of Logan's attention was just on you, it was always just on you.

 "Okay, how are we feeling about the ruined city for today?" You asked the two as Gambit started to twirl a card in between his middle and pointer fingers. "Yes yes yes, dat will do just nicely, right Wolvie?" He asserted - training a hard on the hard-headed "foe." Logan's voice was low and gruff as he found his stance. "Don't get so ahead of yourself Gamby." He retorted as he turned back to you in the window. "Start it up doll, before this one here loses all of his spice." He barked with a laugh as Logan jostled his mask on. You rolled your eyes with a faint smile. "If you say so, bee-tee-dubs .. don't kill each other! Please and thank you." You affirmed as the array of buttons were clicked. As the scenery shifted into a torn-down cityscape, foes were already on the two men. The only fun thing about watching over the training sessions was getting to watch fellow X-Men in action. Just not with the risk of losing your life in the process. Leaning back into your chair, you took in a nice breath of air. Peace, for now at least. Jubilee sat up more straight, letting her bright yellow duster-like jacket collect at the sides of her chair. She brought her legs to her chest as both you and she watched Gambit and Logans fighting. You could feel her eyes wander to you in the quiet. You looked directly towards her, a sympathetic smile gracing your face. "How are you feeling?" Your voice was small but warm, comforting almost. This was the first time someone had even really asked her. "I don't know... it's like everything is just changing at once. I feel like a big Rubix cube." She said with a frown as she got more comfortable where she sat. You nodded your head in almost remembrance. "Trust me, becoming an X-men isn't the hardest part. It's living like one." Admitting with a soft sort of comfort, Jubilee was already warmer than before. The training session flew by as you two just talked and talked. She lamented about what life would be like now, what she would and wouldn't miss. How she was stripped of living like a normal teenager. "I mean everyone here has already been so nice to me, but this is just gonna take a lot of getting used to. ", she would lament to you in honesty. You tried to be as insightful as possible. Telling her that living as an X-men will always be tricky. But there will always be the people around here that'll keep you steady. Her ears perked up when you listed off your so-called "anchors." She immediately butted in after you listed off the Wolverine himself, Logan. "That guy? You two seem to be always at each other's throats?" She cracked at you with an inquisitive grin. "Well I mean yeah - he can be .. overly confident a lot of the time." You were almost reminding yourself. You didn't realize how long you spent talking about your scruffy metal-clawed 'friend.' You went on and on about how he combated with you in the best possible ways. How with his time in the X-Men, he opened up your worldview in many instances. He did so much to you and for you. He was almost like your escape in a way, and he maybe shared the same view. You didn't get into the nitty-gritty details of it, 'cause ew. But the moments away from daily life hecticness within the school you and he shared were your favorite. His arms were the sweetest embrace anyone could ask for. But that's what friends do, that's what friends are for.

 Though you always wondered if maybe you were wrong. Maybe you were holding on to nothing. Maybe there was an intimate connection between you two hiding under the surface. But you had a track record of getting your hopes up. You dashed those daydreams away as Jubilee yanked you back down into the now of things. Time flew by as the training sequence ended. Logan was immediately gloating his way out of the danger room. You and Jubilee met the two halfway. Gambit sang your high praises as he lamented about kicking Logan's ass in the drill. As the two grown men bickered Jubilee made her exit known. Since the professor was already summoning them all to the war room. Gambit waved you off with a small wink and another grand shuffle of his cards. Which just left you and logan ... fun. 

He quirked his brow in your direction as he realized your quiet demeanor. “Can you believe the guy? - come on bub you saw me!” He said in astonishment at Gambit's gambit tendencies. You crinkled your nose in a small giggle. If you were seeing straight, you couldn’t help but notice a small dash of a smile on Logan's face once he saw your mood brighten. His smile always found ways to make your knees weak and arms all jelly. “Yeah yeah, dont get your panties in a twist Lo.” You said with a twinkle in your eye. A grin followed spreading almost ear to ear.

His eyes softened ever so slightly with your jokes. He grumbled out his poorest joke yet. “Oh, I’ll show you.” He retorted before yanking you into him. Your back met his chest plate as you felt his collection of sweat. His muscled arms wrapped around your midsection as he whirled you around like a windmill. You ignited with laughter and “yucks” as you felt his sweat spreading onto you. You fought out his hold with a grimace and a sheepish chuckle, wiping your eye. “Christ man, you got all your .. muck on me!”

By now his claws were already dashed away. So his hands were now placed on his hips. He rolled his eyes as he looked you up and down. “Come on, you’ll live to see another day shrimpy.” He claimed with his eyes slowly wandering. “I look like a wet dog thanks to you.” You frowned jokingly, shaking your arms out. “On and on with you.” He remarked once again with his eyes rolling AGAIN soon after.

Closer and closer the two of you got as you both threw phony insults back and forth. Before your lips were inches away from one another. He drawled his quick mouth up and spat back something that would leave your mind in utter… shock. Was confusion the right word?  “Don’t play around with me, dimples. I know you’d like more than just my arms around you.” You quickly gasped out the pocket of air you were holding onto. A long pause was felt throughout the hall before you two darted in separate ways.

“I need to change!” You sheepishly shouted as you headed in the opposite direction of him. He did the same, mumbling whatever under his breath. “Don’t slip and fall!” He coughed out as you rubbed your face in annoyance. “Eat shit, Logan!” , “That’ll be a long time coming!” The both of you remarked to the other in unison. Both of your voices share the same sort of flustered frustration. You raced into the showers as you soon stumbled towards the sinks.

You splashed your face with cold water as your heart was still racing. Your cheeks were burning up let alone from his words. But you were soon able to catch up with your breath. Regaining your composure you looked yourself in the mirror. Gritting your teeth as you looked at the fool Logan made you. The Wolverine could be a hard-headed buffoon. Always on his way to making a snide insult with whichever X-men member was disagreeing with him. But god damn it was he your poison. You hated him and he hated you. That was the thing that kept you steady as you changed into uniform and raced towards the ongoing meeting. You knew that same smile still lingered on your face once you made your entrance into the war room. Able to brush off the team's sudden accusations as you made sure to remind everyone about the issue at hand. The Professor thanked you as he went back to discussing what new threats plagued human life. Your eyes always made their way back to Logans with small lingers. Making eye contact with you, his eye-line was diverted by you as you turned your attention back to the professor. The Wolverine was a fool, and he had already found purchase in your foolish heart. 

ꔫ✉ reblogs/interaction is appreciated <3 part two - ⭐️

[seishihoe]

a world on FIRE. ryusei shidou x fem!reader - minors DNI

back from the dead to present a belated birthday gift for my one true love @rinhaler mwah. i hope you love it as much as ryu loves you :3 i'm so grateful you're in my life pookie <3 word count: 4.7k tags: enemies to lovers, ex-bully!ryu, mentions of bullying, pet names (princess, baby, good girl & boy!!!), praise, degradation (if there aint both i don’t want it), a couple spanks, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), doggy, mentions of anal, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, size kink ig?, not proof read and rushed

“Are you seriously signing up to that?” your roomie’s voice scoffs from behind you as you continue signing your name on the form.

“Why are you being so negative?! We’ve got to pick some extra credit classes and look, it’s an art class - it would be my major if my parents weren’t… well my parents.” It’s the closest opportunity you’ve had to your real dreams since coming to college - forced into a “real” college degree like Law instead of what you really wanted to do with your life. Now you had an opportunity right in front of you to actually enjoy learning - no one was stopping you from this.

“Don’t you have enough on your plate?” she sighs, twirling an unlit cigarette between her fingers as she waits impatiently.

“It’s just one extra credit class - it even says beginners, it’ll be a piece of cake for someone like me!”

You dot the i’s of your name with signature hearts and it’s done. You place the pen back against the clipboard and lean back with a satisfied smile as your roommate continues to shake her head. 

“Don’t burn yourself out girl that’s all I’m saying!” she laughs, giving you a nudge. “You study too much already, you’re not making enough time for what we actually came to college for!”

Your face screws up at her, “And… what would that be?”

“Boys, duh!” she laughs, linking arms with you as you start to walk back to the dorms. “When’s the last time you went to a party? Or one of the frat houses? They’re wild. Especially the guys on all the sports teams…” she bites her lip, clearly reminiscing about a particular encounter.

“Not having this conversation, you slut,” you sigh, “Speaking of… what’s your body count at these days?” you smirk at her. 

“You’re so fucking rude!” she hits you lightly but laughs. “Well, have fun with your finger paints.”

“Mhmm… I shall.”

—-

You arrive at class embarrassingly early, too excited to wander around campus or use the spare time for studies. You sit down at one of the easels near the back and start to unpack your brand new art supplies you bought just for the occasion - pretty paint brushes, fresh tubes of oil paint and even your own cute apron to wear. You set it all out and wait nervously for everyone else to arrive. Your legs jitter in excitement as the class begins to fill up, checking the time on your phone every so often. Soon enough, the teacher arrives and begins to explain the modules and expectations for the semester.

“There will only be one graded unit and - ugh” he sighs loudly as the door opens, turning his head towards it. “First day of class and this is the time you arrive? Not the best impression for an extra credit class.”

“Yeah, yeah… I’m here aint I?”

Your stomach drops at the familiar voice, it’s one you couldn’t forget if you tried, and you timidly look up to confirm your worst fears. Your tormentor, your bully, Ryusei Shidou.

His eyes practically shine up as he spots you, a slow grin appearing on his face. His tongue licks across his bottom lip and he stuffs his hands into his pockets, making his way to the back of the class - to you. He dumps his backpack on the floor unceremoniously, sitting down on the stool in front of the canvas with a soft grunt. You can feel him looking at you, out of the corner of your eye but you refuse to give him any satisfaction. You try to focus on the teacher again as he restarts the class but the blond, menacing figure leans in ever closer. He’s finally close enough that you can no longer ignore him, his imposing large figure not willing to give up. You hear your name in greeting lowly and it sends a shiver up your spine, forcing you to finally acknowledge him. 

“I saw those dumb hearts on the sign-up sheet and I knew it was you,” he almost sneers, mouth creeping into a smirk. 

“So what, Ryusei? You had to sign-up too and ruin college for me like you did high school?”

“Hey… I like art too, don’t you remember?”

“You like being an asshole, that’s all I remember,” you roll your eyes and continue to try and concentrate on your piece. “Your hair still looks… stupid.”

He chuckles at that, shaking his head slightly as he starts to unpack his stuff. “You always loved my hair, baby.” You scowl little, cheeks reddening at the pet name. You open your mouth to speak again but he stops you, tutting and wiggling his index finger at you. “Uh-uh… teacher’s talkin’, pay attention, baby.” The way he looks at you, it almost makes you feel sick. It’s like he’s taunting you already and he only just sat down. Your mouth snaps shut and you clear your throat, looking to the front of the class yet again and internally hating yourself for obeying him. 

Even when he’s not talking to you, you can feel his presence. Catching those magenta eyes, sizing you up at every chance he has, reminding you of every horrible, painful year of high school.

High school was fine to begin with - you weren’t bullied but you weren’t popular either. You had the people that mattered in your life and the bothersome ones left you alone for the most part. Until he showed up one day. An unruly blond haired demon who’s only desires were to lead the school soccer team and make your life a living hell. It was trivial and basic to start with - tripping you up in the hallway, confiscating your homework or raiding your locker.

Then one day, it got a lot worse.

“What’s this, huh?” he eyes you curiously as you stare at the journal in his hand like it’s a bomb about to explode, shaking your head desperately. You watch from your knees on the hallway floor as he does another classic Shidou locker inspection, one of his more humiliating hobbies. At least you hadn’t brought any tampons that day. You struggle underneath him as he examines it a little more closely, a finger twiddling with the pink lock protecting your deepest, darkest inner teenage thoughts. “Aw… it’s locked…” he gives you a faux pout before his large hands seize the book apart by its covers and rip it open from the spine. You’re powerless as you watch it happen - a few stray pages broken from the binding scatter to the hallway floor… your secrets exposed to the world. You hear gasps and a few shocked laughs from the other students and beg yourself not to cry. 

His hand presses on your head to remain in position as he flicks through it quickly, stopping your desperate, useless attempts of seizing it back from him. He somehow finds the most delicate and embarrassing entries in record time, reading them aloud for everyone to hear as you beg and pray and will for the ground to just swallow you up. 

“... and as obnoxious as he is, maybe I can’t help but find Shidou a little hot,” he reads in a mock-version of your voice before stopping, almost like he realises what the words mean. He looks from you to the diary again as he takes it in before throwing his head back in a horrid, condescending laugh. “You -? Aw, you dork, you have a crush on me!”

Tears build in your eyes as you shake your head furiously. “Ryu… please stop…”

You inhale deeply as you force the memory out of your mind, not willing to relive the rest. You turn to look at him, pausing and rolling your eyes as he confidently paints, tongue stuck out in concentration. “You made my life fucking hell… and you walk in here like we’re friends?”

“Come on… it was just a little teasing…”

You grip your paintbrush hard in your hand at that, shaking slightly. “A little… teasing?!”

“Just liked to wind ya up… it was fun. Remember the day you confessed your love for me?”

Your mouth drops open, “I, my, what?!” you blurt out in shock. “You read my diary against my will and then jammed my skirt in the locker and left me there! Are you delusional or just really dense?” you flick your hair over your shoulder and continue to paint. 

He rolls his eyes, making you fizz even more. “You’ve always been so dramatic… you were such a princess… guess ya still are.” 

“Please just leave me alone,” you hiss under your breath, “You ruined high school for me, don’t ruin college for me too! Go away!”

He blinks a few times, his expression unreadable. He finally turns back to his canvas and shrugs. “I just wanna paint, relax.”

You refuse to believe it, there’s no way he’s not here to continue his tirade of cruelty. You won't back down though, you won't let Ryusei Shidou ruin the one chance of escapism you have at college. It’s difficult but as the weeks go on, he does leave you alone for the most part. Refusing to sit anywhere else and still considering himself your protector. “You’re still a lil dork, what if someone else picks on ya?” Protector? Is he delusional? Did he suffer a brain injury during summer break or is this even the same Ryusei Shidou that tormented and bullied you at every chance he got?

Over time you realise he doesn’t seem to be lying about his intentions for class at least. He turns up, and on time too, and doesn’t even mock the teacher like he was famous for in high school. His canvas is always tilted just out of sight from you and others but he works hard - you wonder whether he’s embarrassed or maybe even a bit of a perfectionist. Sometimes you talk but you rarely push conversation, too concentrated on your own work to give him the attention you know he craves from you. You know there will come a moment eventually when he’ll reveal his true colours once again.

It’s a rainy afternoon on campus, so bad that most of your classes are cancelled. Not willing to brave a very wet and long walk home to the dorms you head to the art block, deciding the spare time would be best put to use putting in some extra work on your graded module. After a quick pit stop for hot chocolate at the cafe, sipping on it comfortingly to warm yourself, you enter the studio. To your surprise, you weren’t the first person to have the same idea. 

“Hey princess, avoiding the rain too?” Ryusei peers over the top of his canvas with his signature smile, his hair wet and pushed back slightly out of his face. 

“Yeah… it’s pretty bleak out there,” you reply, taking you headphones off from your head as you sit down and begin to prepare your art supplies.

“I’m almost finished so… I won’t bother you too much, promise,” he winks at you. You give him an awkward smile and look out your canvas from the collection, continuing in silence. He sticks to his word, occasionally humming which doesn’t bother you too much. Soon you hit a roadblock, a small mistake leaving you puzzled and making you consider scrapping the whole piece. You shake your head and try to rid yourself of the self-sabotage, deciding to take a break. You take out a packet of Oreo’s from your backpack and indulge yourself in a snack to ground yourself as you look over your painting in thought. You look to Ryusei and down at the sleeve of your favourite snacks in your lap. 

“Umm… would you like one?” you hold it out to him without looking.

He looks at you suspiciously but helps himself to a couple. “Guess I deserve a break too, thanks,” he smiles.

“You’re quite secretive about your work,” you tease him with a smirk as you notice it remains tilted from your view, too curious to let it go unnoticed anymore. “Shy? Or are you truly just slacking off?”

“Wanna see?” he responds plainly as he licks the cream slowly off one of the Oreo’s. 

You furrow your brow, shocked by his response. “Uh… y-yeah sure,” you nod and give him a tiny hint of a smile. He returns it and turns the canvas to show you, the swirl and mess of colours making you blink a few times as you try to make sense of it. Red and magenta fires surrounding melting violet buildings in a fiery explosion that could only be created by him. 

“It looks like… a world on fire,” you say quietly, still looking over the details. You can’t deny it’s good, maybe he does actually like art. “Wow, Ryu… I’m kinda impressed,” you manage another small smile. 

“You think?” he smirks. “I just wanted you to shut up about me slacking off. I love painting, I do.”

“Is… that how you see the world, Ryu?”

A small smile flickers on his face at the nickname, “Yeah I guess so,” he laughs softly.  

“I really didn’t think you’d take this class seriously…” 

“Why? Cause I was mean to you?” he rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh as he faces his canvas back to him. “Apart from that… you barely know me. You don’t know what I like to do with my life”

“I guess I just can’t imagine you being a good boy,” you laugh awkwardly. 

His head turns slightly as the words leave your mouth, a slight smirk appearing. “Yeah well… I aint.” He dips his paintbrush into his paint heartily before thumbing the bristles and flicking paint directly at you. You gasp as you watch red paint speckle across your dress, unable to react in time to stop him.

“Ryusei!” you gasp, getting up and instantly trying to wipe yourself down. He laughs and laughs as he watches you,  “Oh, well that’s abundantly clear, don’t worry,” you smile falsely before groaning in frustration. You give up, throwing the rag you were using to the floor in defeat. “Ugh, this better wash out!” 

“It’s acrylic so I doubt it, you should know that, dork. Shoulda wore your apron…” he snorts and clings to his stool as he finally controls himself. 

“Oh my god, Ryu!” you wail. 

“It was just a joke and I know you got lots of pretty clothes cause your parents always spoiled ya. God you’re so uptight, it’s boring. Thought college would liven you up, guess you must still be a lil frigid virgin,” he laughs.

“No. I’m not,” you bite back before you can stop yourself, instantly turning red. “N-Not that it’s any of your fucking business!”

“Well, whoever you been fucking aint fucking you right… cause look at ya, all grown up and you’re still a prissy, high-strung whiney -” You grab the nearest brush and press it in the black ink on your palette before casting it across his canvas. He yells as he watches you, getting up too late to react and completely powerless before you, casting a black line in the middle of his artwork. It’s a step too far but you can’t help but feel a little bit proud. It’s the first time you’ve ever stood up to Ryusei Shidou in your life. The adrenaline quickly fades and the reality of what you’ve done hits you like a tonne of bricks. You drop the paintbrush and stand back, nervously awaiting his reaction. There’s an expression on his face that you don’t quite recognise in him, the way he stares at the canvas you tarnished for a few tense beats, hands gripping his hairs in anguish as he breathes heavily… and then it hits you.

He’s hurt. The signature rage that burns within Ryusei was extinguished the moment your brush swept against the canvas. He was proud of that… so proud that he wanted to show you and you ruined it. You were the cruel one this time. It makes you uncomfortable… Even after all the suffering you endured at his hands you can’t help but feel sorry for him. Did you… break Ryusei Shidou? 

But as soon as the thought crosses your mind, he’s standing up from the stool, turning to face you with an intimidating stance and almost manic smile. That… devastation… it’s gone and the Ryusei you recognise from all those years of torment is back. The anger. The violence. The passion. He takes a long stride towards you and forces you against the wall easily, “You’re such a fucking bitch,” he growls, face leaning dangerously close to yours.

“I’m sorry, I really am I -”

“Shut. Up,” he grabs your chin in a large hand, shaking you in his grasp slightly with each word. “You got revenge finally I guess, huh? You proud of yourself, baby? Feel all big and brave now?” his hand moves up to grip your cheeks, squeezing until your lips pucker pathetically.

“N-No,” you choke out, tears welling in your eyes as panic takes over, uneased by the way he leers over you. “R-Ryusei, it was mistake, ‘m sorry but we can try and fix it just -!” but you’re cut off suddenly as he growls and plants his lips against yours, kissing you passionately. You make a tiny yelp of surprise but relax, soft moans fill the air and you realise they’re coming from you. You’ve finally succumbed to him. He breaks away suddenly, a small line of drool connecting your mouths that he licks at with a smile. 

“You’re fucking sexy when you’re mad baby. Shoulda done something like that a long time ago instead of always cryin’” he laughs softly, peppering your face gently with kisses. “Mmmm… made me hard.” 

“Y-You’re a pervert,” you whimper but cling to him, kissing him back again as your head becomes dizzy and you allow yourself to succumb to those twisted desires you’d locked away many years ago. Thoughts of it that once made you feel sick with guilt as you used them late at night to explore your body and depraved fantasies. Why do you still want this? And why did you ever want this?

“S-Stop,” you say with little effort behind it, watching as his hands slide up your body to see more, feel more.

“You don’t want me to, baby,” he breathes into your mouth almost desperately. “K-Know you don’t want me to.”

“Okay b-but Ryu, here?” 

“Waited so fuckin’ long for this baby you know that, not gonna waste any more time. My girl, always been my girl haven’t you?”

And you’re nodding, you don’t know why but you’re nodding. This boy that made your life hell for years, ridiculed you, the boy who you utterly despised. Something inside you still craved him, wanted him - no, you needed him. Like some sort of fucked-up, twisted, full-circle moment. Maybe you both did. 

“W-Wanna be your girl, Ryu,” you whisper quietly. He chuckles against your lips at your desperate admission, hands delving under the skirt of your dress. It’s not long before his large fingers are poking at your panties, a soft embarrassed whimper escaping you as he lets out a soft moan at the discovery within. “Fuuuuuck, sweetheart,” he laughs through a soft moan as his fingers swipe down the drenched fabric. “Do you always get this wet… or is this all just for me?”

You say nothing, almost shell-shocked to the spot that this is happening, your head still reeling from it all. His fingers slip under the waistband and they’re soon falling down your legs, Ryusei quickly but silently helping you step out of them as you continue to explore his mouth. 

“Always wondered what your pretty parts looked like,” he bites on your lip as he continues to toy with you, his fingers dancing against your slippery folds with a moan. “Lemme see…” he pushes the skirt of your dress up to expose you, the cool air making you shudder self-consciously. You hear a soft moan escape his lips as he looks at you for the first time. “Oh baby… so pretty,” he coos softly. Your head falls back with a tiny thud against the wall, embarrassment taking over. 

“Ryu…” you whine and he laughs softly, gently placing one of your legs upon his shoulder. You gasp as you feel his breath against your sensitive core, and his hand is spreading you apart even more for him. “Oh my god what are you -?” you feel his tongue delicately swipe from your hole up to your clit and let out a loud gasp, eyes rolling back already from the sensitivity. “Ryu!”

“Mmpf,” he smacks his lips obscenely. “You taste like fuckin’ candy.” His mouth suctions over your clit firmly and you truly lose it, letting out sweet whimpered moans and rolling your hips for more. He’s done so little and he’s reduced you to a mess already. He moans against your flesh as he feasts on you, desperately palming himself over his trousers as he enjoys the way your body responds to him. For how he’s craved you too.

“Ryu, s-so good at this, fuck,” you whisper, fingers lacing through his hair and gripping tightly for stability. It spurs him on, his hands greedily grip your sides, encouraging you to continue moving against him. The noises his actions make are lewd and loud - echoing around the room enough to make your cheeks flush crimson. 

It rolls up on you before you can warn him and your moans heighten into sweet, shrill squeaks as you finally reach your peak, shaking and bearing down on him. Delicious ecstasy consuming you like you’ve never felt before. You watch him lewdly slurp up your sweet nectar, the sight enough to extend your pleasure as you lock eyes with him. “Fuck,” is all you can manage as you slow your hips against his face. He breaks away, panting and his eyes ablaze with lust as he licks at the juices that coat his mouth. You recognise that look. He’s not done with you yet. 

You’re still reeling from the aftershocks and he’s pushing you onto your knees on the floor, your body jelly and sinking willingly. “Bend over baby, c’mon. Can’t wait anymore, need to feel you,” he grunts as he doesn’t even wait for you to obey, manhandling you easily onto all-fours as you still try to catch your breath. 

“C-Can’t believe this is happening,” you almost laugh as you hear the familiar sound of a zipper before a harsh hand holds your hip in place, feeling Ryusei take his place behind you. 

“I can... meant to be baby” he smirks, jerking himself impatiently as he pushes your head to the floor. “Come on arch a little better than that baby, waited fuckin’ years for this, gotta look pretty for me.”

You nod and do as he says, pressing down further and arching your ass perfectly for him. You feel him spread you apart, whimpering instinctively. 

“I want this,” he groans lowly, his thumb pressing firmly against your untouched tight ring of muscle - you swear you hear the tiniest soft whine as it instinctively tightens against the touch. “D-Didn’t get to pop your cherry, sweetheart so let me have this. Bet you’ve never been fucked here.”

You whimper slightly but don’t refuse the touch.”N-No, never, Ryu… but not now… another time. Fuck.” 

“What makes you think there’s gonna be another time? Needy slut.” His hand moves from your untouched parts and delivers a harsh spank. “And stop fuckin’ telling me what to do. I’ll give ya exactly what you need, princess.” You feel the blunt head of his cock press against your slickened entrance and soon enough he’s pushing inside in one fluid thrust. All the air leaves your lungs as you take everything he gives you - he’s big, maybe the biggest you’ve had. He hasn’t even moved yet and you feel him everywhere. You choke on your own moans and prepare yourself for what’s to come. 

“Fuck, baby, fuck. Your little pussy looks so pretty taking this dick,” he pulls back and delivers a harsh thrust, making you jolt forward with a pained shout.

‘S big, Ryu, so big,” you babble, fingers scrambling for any purchase against the floor. 

“I know baby, I know. Taking me so good, fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he grunts, starting a rapid pace that leaves you open-mouthed and whimpering.

You give up on trying to be quiet, Ryusei’s own loud moans and grunts already exposing you enough for anyone in the near vicinity. He’s ferocious and primal, you desperately wish you could see him properly in all his glory but his tight grip on you leaves little hope for change in position. His hips bruise against yours with every thrust and you’re sure you’ll have bruises in the morning - or hope, the thought of evidence of your deeds helping your pleasure build yet again. “Love how you fuck me, Ryu! Love this, oh m-my god!” you cry out as you begin to thrust back against him. He growls ferociously and grips the flesh of your ass for leverage to rail you harder, desperate to see you surrender with him.

“Come on, baby, come on,” he grunts, “Make it a good one for me, come on,” he repeats desperately. You arch your back out even further and freeze as the pleasure rushes over you yet again, creaming deliciously around his cock. 

The hands supporting yourself eventually give out, your front sinking against the cold concrete floor as you let him just take you. He’s ruthless, rutting against you like a desperate animal before he’s spurting thick ropes of his seed inside you until he has nothing left to give, whining as he forces himself to eventually stop. “S-Shit, baby, your pussy’s amazing… mm… knew it would be.” he kisses up your spine softly before pulling out and sorting himself.

“Oh… oh my god,” you gasp desperately, laying against the floor for a moment before coming to your senses. “That was crazy, Ryu, I can’t believe we did that.”

“It was sexy… oh and you’d really let me fuck your ass?” he grins. 

You sort your clothes and look at him with a small smirk. “Maybe… if you’re a good boy.” his reaction to that immediately making you giggle - eyes wide and his own cheeks almost blushing. “Oh... you like that, hm, Ryu?” 

“S-Shut up,” he grumbles, avoiding looking at you as he goes redder. “Come on… we should get out of here before they lock up the building for the night. He takes your hand in his before you can refuse, making you smile to yourself as you gently follow him.

-------------------

You wake up the next morning and check your phone, pouting as you scroll through your notifications, none of them from the person you want them to be. You lie back against the pillows and read them, one from your roommate catching your eye.

> hey! sorry, left when u were still sleeping oli invited me to watch him practice… couldn’t resist :P 

> btw a weird huge package was left at the door btw girl did u order something??? left it outside your room. xoxox

You pull the duvet off yourself and go to the door, eyes widening as you see the package in question but you quickly recognise the familiar, rectangle shape. Wrapped in brown paper and tied with a sting with your name on, it has little clues of its sender. You shrug and bend down on the floor, untying the string and beginning to tear the crinkly paper slowly. 

The painting. Ryusei’s painting except there’s something different about it now. It’s complete.

Amongst the fiery, explosive background you spot the dark silhouettes of two familiar figures embraced in the middle. The height difference is obvious and the defining features of his hair makes you slowly grin in realisation. 

You read the note attached to it, smiling gleefully still and sinking slowly to the floor as you read it over and over.

Fixed it already. The world burns brighter with you.

Ryu xox

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (15/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, unprotected sex, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, humiliation, sexual tension, abuse of power ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He thought that the pain he felt in his eye socket as a child was a torture, however, the inability to take the woman who aroused his lust when she was at his fingertips proved just as unbearable.

At one moment he was furious with her for refusing him – as he pressed her against the stone walls of the Red Keep he could clearly feel under his fingers that her womanhood was leaking all over with desire – only to find later that he admired her self-denial and strength of will.

He thought that if her desire to remain his faithful and devoted wife was as strong, he would be satisfied.

The time of his greatest trial came to him in the evenings, when he lay alone in the cold, empty bed – he could feel the tension in his loins pulsing through his veins, his lower abdomen and erection, swollen and impatient, knowing that his relief was asleep a few steps from his chamber, across the hall.

He closed his eyes then, fighting with himself, not wanting her to look at him the way his mother would.

With sadness and regret.

So he waited, dying each day at the thought of her bare body, at the thought that she longed for him – he could see it in her gaze, hear it in her hitched, heavy breath as his lips brushed her neck, as he grasped her sweet breasts in his hands, wanting to feel her even for a moment.

He knew she was his, but he couldn't have her.

So that's what madness is, he mused.

He was relieved to hear that his grandsire, to his surprise, had no objections regarding his chosen one.

"She is a wise girl, bound to you with her heart and mind. Both she and her dragon will be of great use to us. With her help, we might be able to pull at least some of the Lords of the Vale over to our side – they are more likely to listen to someone of their blood, someone who knows and understands their concerns, who will not threaten them with dragonfire like Daemon." Said Otto, sitting beside him at the table in his chamber – he nodded, looking to the side with an expression devoid of emotion, not wanting his grandfather to see any sign that he felt satisfaction at his words.

She is bound to you with her heart and mind.

He felt shame and contentment that Otto thought he was not indifferent to her – he believed his grandsire was capable of seeing more than he did.

The truth was that he feared to hear something from him that would destroy her image in his eyes, deprive him of the object of trust and affection that he so desperately needed.

"The King is awake, but he is in great pain, so we have given him large amounts of poppy milk to ease his suffering." Said the Maester.

He hummed, towering over his brother's bed with his head cocked to one side.

"Mmm. See to it that he can spend the next few days in the comfort of blissful sleep." He said, glancing at the Maester, who swallowed hard and nodded, understanding what he meant.

He couldn't regain the sobriety of his mind until the nuptials officially took place.

After that, their marriage, performed in front of crowds of witnesses, united by the gods themselves, would not be able to be dissolved by anyone.

He also decided to make minor changes in the Small Council, wanting to surround himself only with people who actually wished their family victory.

His mother, though he deluded himself into thinking it would be different, was not one of them, trying to use the weakness he had for her against him, as did Larys Strong, who, true to his betrothed's words, poured poison into his ears.

Stripping Larys of his function was easy and gave him great satisfaction, with his Hand, meaning his grandfather, taking over his role.

He knew, however, that the conversation with his mother would be difficult for him and he prepared for it for a long time.

"You have served the Kingdom faithfully for many years. It is time for you to rest." He said after ordering her to stay, once the Small Council meeting was over, looking ahead with a blank stare, knowing that if he looked at her face he would feel something he didn't want to.

He swallowed hard as her figure leaned over him, as her familiar, smooth hand touched his cheek, her thumb stroking his skin.

Why couldn't she bestow such a touch on him when he needed it?

Why did he only deserve it when she wanted to soften and manipulate him, exactly like Sylvi?

"Has your loss not yet been sufficiently avenged?" She asked him in a way from which he felt a squeeze in his throat – he looked at her, into her warm brown eyes, in which he so longed to see recognition.

However, all he saw was pain.

She suffered looking at him, at her own son, at what he had become.

Was he really such a bad person?

He lowered his gaze and placed his hand on hers, stroking her skin with his thumb, wanting to remember this moment, his mother showing him something he could call tenderness, something he would be able to cling to for years to come, deprived again of her closeness and warm words.

"This is my final decision."

His mother swallowed hard and took her hand from his cheek – he seemed to feel an almost physical pain when she did so, when an unpleasant chill surrounded his skin where her familiar fingers had been only moments ago, as if someone had forcibly torn him from her safe, warm womb.

After all, it wasn't his fault that he had been born.

"Who will take my place? Another man pushing for war at any cost?" She asked with a disappointment and bitterness from which his lower lip trembled, his stomach clenched so tightly that he found it difficult to take a deep breath.

"My betrothed."

The sight of her serene, calm expression at his grandfather's side was refreshing – her gaze, unlike that of his mother, was filled with warmth and trust.

He thought with shame that he had given her a seat in his council just to look at her.

However, as he found out moments later, he had judged himself too harshly.

"Everything is ready for the nuptials and a small wedding, which will of course take place in the Throne Room. The ceremony itself will not be grand and lavish, but I think everyone sitting around this table understands that in a situation of war we cannot afford to wantonly empty our treasury." Otto said, and he shifted his gaze from his grandfather to her – she smiled lightly when their gazes met, giving him a look full of reassurance that pomp was the last thing she wanted.

He felt a pleasant warmth in his chest at the thought, the realisation that she shared his values, his love of simplicity and, of course, unabashed modesty.

His grandfather, hearing no objection, continued.

"On that day, all the guards and sentries will be on duty – such occasions are always a good opportunity for the enemy to attack, because they take advantage of the chaos that then prevails. That's why we can't afford to deviate from the day's schedule and changes – I've also appointed my few trusted men to keep an eye on the cooks and how the food and drink is prepared."

"Nevertheless, I think it will be appropriate for me to try both the wine and anything else the Prince will want to taste." He heard her voice and looked at her, shocked.

The thought that she cared for him, that she was so concerned that someone would try to take his life by trickery and poison him, touched him.

Otto smiled under his breath and nodded.

"I appreciate your concern for my grandson, my Lady, however, I will assign a person to try the dishes for the two of you. We do not wish for anyone's death during this joyous occasion." He said softly, clearly pleased as he was with her faithfulness and devotion.

"No." She said, looking at his grandfather, then at him. "My father, and for sure all of Dragonstone and their allies, think this wedding is a further part of my abduction, independent of my free will. They will continue to spread rumours and stories that I am imprisoned by the Prince and that he, in his cruelty, forced me to become his wife. Many Lords will be present during the ceremony, and word will spread through the Kingdom like the wind. Let them, as well as others present, see the two of us forming a united front that evening, let them see me try my husband's wine."

His grandfather raised an eyebrow and readjusted himself in his chair, as surprised as he was by her words and how thoughtful they were.

"It is an intriguing approach to the matter, I admit – indeed, a demonstration of unity and solidarity can only strengthen support for our cause among the Lords. I will leave the final decision to you, my Prince." Said Otto, and he mused, looking at her with a piercing gaze, playing with the gold coin between his fingers.

"I appreciate my betrothed's devotion, however, I will not allow her to endanger herself – instead, as a symbol of unity and union, I propose that we fly over King's Landing together the next day, showing our might and strength at the same time." He said calmly – his cousin merely sighed and nodded, throwing him a gentle look indicating that his rejection of her idea did not cause her any pain.

He swallowed hard, feeling his manhood pulsate aggressively in his breeches, screaming with longing, having her at his fingertips.

After speaking to his mother, he felt disheartened, and she was not by his side.

His desperation caused him to do something he was sure he would never do in his life, considering it to be behaviour beneath his dignity.

"Accompany me on my stroll through the royal gardens. I want to breathe some fresh air and take advantage of the good weather." He hummed, passing her as he, like the others, moved towards the door after the Small Council meeting was over.

He knew she was surprised, but she moved after him immediately, having trouble keeping up with him now that she was wearing a gown, making it difficult for her to move freely.

He wanted to hide between the trees as quickly as possible, so that no servants or guards would notice them, not wishing to be the cause of mockery and gossip later.

Again.

He slowed down as they finally stepped out into the part of the Keep surrounded by shrubbery that formed a plethora of alleys – he took the only one he knew, which was the main one, hearing behind him that she followed him with the quiet rattle of stones beneath her feet.

He put his hands behind his back and looked at her over his shoulder – she smiled at him, walking a few steps behind him.

He stopped and she did the same, her head cocked in happy curiosity.

"Don't I even deserve to have you walking by my side? That kind of closeness is unkind to the gods too?" He asked dryly, frustrated and dying of longing, needing her like never before, feeling rejected and alone.

He swallowed hard, feeling remorseful when he saw that her expression changed, as if he had slapped her in the face, her eyebrows arched in pain, her eyes big and sad, her lips parted slightly in surprise full of terror.

"– n-no –" She muttered, playing with her fingers on her womb, coming closer to him with a quiet rustling of her gown. "– usually outside of our quarters you prefer it when I give you space – if you desire me to be close to you, I will –"

He felt the sudden wave of rage and grief that had surged through his body weaken, leaving him with a sense of sadness and emptiness.

He didn't want to ask or beg for such things, on the other hand, in fact, when he knew someone might see them, he preferred not to give anyone reason to comment on their behaviour.

He himself didn't know what he felt and needed, and he required her to understand him and his needs more than he did, he thought with shame.

Seeing how tense he was and hearing his silence she took a few steps towards him, standing so close that he felt her wonderful scent tease his nostrils, her delicate hand touched his chest and then was joined by another, his heart beating hard under her fingers.

He dared to look at her, and it was a mistake – her gaze was filled with a heat that both terrified him and brought him to the state where he felt like throwing himself at her, pulling her skirt up and taking her like a whore, wanting nothing more than to fill her with his seed.

"– may I kiss you, my Prince? –" She asked in a trembling voice, being formal at the same time, afraid to frustrate him, not knowing what behaviour he expected of her.

He couldn't answer anything – his hands simply caught her suddenly at the waist and pulled her closer so that her body slammed against his, her sweet moan echoing in his throat as he sank into her fleshy, luscious lips with a sigh of relief.

He murmured as her fingers stroked his jaw and neck, and her lips responded tentatively to his caress, showering him with lazy, deep, loud kisses. He felt her whole body tremble as the tip of his tongue ran invitingly over her upper lip, her hands clenched on his shoulders as if she were struggling with herself.

Something between a groan and a murmur escaped his lips when he felt her slick tongue come out to meet his in a slow, wet lick.

He clasped his hands in her hair and on the material of her gown, pressing his completely hard erection against her stomach, ready to take her here, in this place, on the grass, under the sun.

However, as soon as he grabbed the ribbon tying her dress at the back, she pulled away from him and shook her head, breathing loudly, her cheeks pink with emotion, her lips puffy and glistening from his caresses, her gaze filled with nothing but desire and lust.

"– no – please, lēkia – it's only three more days –" She muttered pleadingly, and he pressed his lips together, feeling rejected.

"– don't I even deserve the embrace of your arms? – to be able to snuggle against your breasts, to experience solace now that sleep does not find me at night? –" He almost wailed, filled with grief and frustration, thinking with shame that he had acted like a small child.

He saw her swallow hard, surprised, all red with shame at his words.

"– I'll let you – I'll let you touch and cuddle against my breasts – if you promise not to take me –" She mumbled, and he nodded, desperate.

She held out her hand to him, and he grasped it, moving behind her through the grass between the trees – he blinked, surprised, when she lay down under one of them in such a place that they were covered by shrubbery on all sides, and even if someone had passed that way, he would not have noticed their lying silhouettes.

"– come –" She whispered, reaching her hands into the back of her gown, loosening its entire structure so that it slid off her shoulders.

He knelt down in front of her, feeling the aggressive pounding of his heart and the painful pulsing of his manhood as his fingers slid the material even lower, finally exposing what he so desperately craved.

She moaned far too loudly when he leaned in suddenly and his lips clamped greedily around her hard nipple, beginning to suck, his other hand closing on her other breast, so wonderfully warm and soft under his fingers.

He sighed with delight and murmured as her familiar, safe arms cuddled him into her chest and he settled comfortably between her thighs.

"– I miss you –" He muttered like a little boy, releasing her nipple from his mouth with a quiet plop, feeling ashamed that he was letting her see his vulnerability – he nuzzled his cheek against her firm bosom, watching enthralled as his fingers squeezed and played with her other plump, lovely breast.

He closed his eyes as she leaned in and placed a tender, long kiss on the top of his head, stroking his hair and back with her hands.

"– I miss you too – try to sleep and rest, brother –" She whispered, and he snorted, shaking his head.

"– with this in my hands – I'd sooner die of tension than fall asleep –" He grunted, on the other hand pleased and fulfilled to feel her so intimately again, to be able to breathe for a moment and find the peace he so desperately needed.

Despite how confidently he said it, in the end the slow, gentle rhythm in which she stroked his body made his eyelids grow heavier and heavier, and when he finally closed them, he fell into a peaceful, deep slumber amidst the rustling of trees and grass, enveloped by her wonderful scent.

They spent every afternoon like this until their wedding day.

On the day of their nuptials, he was tense – he feared an attack from Dragonstone just as much as that his brother would want to call it all off at the last moment.

Some part of him didn't believe that it could work out for them – that there was a future in which he could get what he wanted without making a sacrifice for it for once.

He had to pay for everything with blood.

He shuddered, startled, when, while his servants were helping him put on his emerald tunic, the door to his chamber opened and his mother stepped in.

"Leave us." He said coldly, and the boys bowed and left them alone.

The Dowager Queen approached him with an uncertain step, looking down at her hands, his heart pounded harder in hope, begging for her blessing and at least one tender look.

Her eyes finally lifted to his, and her hand touched his arm, stroking it in a gesture of comfort.

"I wish you, my son, to find with your future wife only the peace and understanding as I experienced at your late father's side." She said softly, and he swallowed hard, feeling discomfort in his stomach.

"You didn't love him. And I don't want my marriage to look like yours. Quite the opposite." He said coolly, pulling away from her, disappointed and dismayed that she was telling him what she thought she needed to say, rather than being honest with him.

Alicent sighed, as if his words and reaction caused her pain.

"We did not always agree, it is true. But our King was a good man, just as my son is." She said finally, and he grinned under his breath as he stood with his back to her, running his fingertips over the top of his table.

"If I remember correctly, he cut open the womb of his beloved wife while she was still alive. While I lost my eye, he cared more for the good name of his first-born daughter than for my suffering or your humiliation. I also know that he did not arouse your desire, for after Daeron's birth you spent each night in separate chambers." He said lightly as he walked over to the window, looking at the servants busying themselves, hanging ornaments and fresh flowers in the courtyard of the keep.

He wondered if his bride regretted her decision.

The thought that he would finally spend that evening sunk deep into her body filled him with fervent desire, and his mind drifted away from his mother and her attempts to salvage the image of his father in his mind.

"No one is perfect. Your father wasn't either. But I respected him and held deep affection for him." She replied finally, and he only hummed, losing the urge for her to give him anything.

Her tenderness, her warm word, her motherly gaze.

He was sick of begging on his knees for her to give him something that was real.

He had to create something like that himself with the woman he had snatched from the gods and made his own.

The tension in his muscles intensified as he stepped into the Great Sept and climbed up the stone steps to the top, standing next to the Septon – the sight of the crowd that had gathered in the temple and the knowledge that everyone's eyes were on him made him feel small and vulnerable.

What if he misspoke the words of his oath?

What if the cloak he had thrown over her shoulders slipped off?

What if she humiliated him in front of everyone, shouting in his face that she despised him?

He swallowed hard and looked to the side, feeling his heart pounding hard as cheers and loud conversations sounded outside the gates – he knew this meant her carriage had arrived and indeed, he saw his grandfather come out to meet her.

He felt his lips part involuntarily in disbelief as she and Otto walked into the temple – holding her hand in that of his grandfather's she walked with her head held high in a beautiful gown composed of blues and browns, from a distance he could see the sparkle of sapphire stones in her necklace and in her hair.

A sigh and pain squeezed his throat at the thought that, contrary to what he had thought, she had not taken on green, the colour of his faction, but his colour, blue, something only he could understand, her personal expression of affection and devotion, a wordless assurance of her fidelity and of what she desired.

He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself, feeling himself tremble all over with nerves and excitement as she slowly climbed the steps to the top, standing at last before him, looking more beautiful than ever, all flushed with emotion.

He longed to touch her hand or her face, longed to feel the softness of her body, to speak the words of his vows with his nose nestled in her warm cheek.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." Said the Septon loudly – he blinked and looked at him, snapped out of his reverie by the realisation that this was it.

He grunted, trying to remain calm, and turned away, nodding at his uncle, extending his hand to him.

It was only when he threw the cloak bearing his family crest over her shoulders that he understood why this tradition had been upheld for centuries – there was something about this protective gesture, of a husband surrounding his wife with a cloth to protect her from the cold and danger, while also being a symbol of the fact that now what would be would overshadow what was, and his house would become her home.

He swallowed hard, thinking with tenderness that they would now truly become a family.

Their shared lie before the eyes of the gods had become truth.

"We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder." The Septon said, and he held out his hand, doing his best not to show how much it was quivering.

He felt relief when she looked at him, when her fingers touched his skin, in her gaze at once terror and warmth, the certainty of a feeling he feared was merely a figment of his imagination, her way of subduing him.

And yet, he could see it exactly in the depths of her beautiful dark eyes.

He pressed his lips together as the priest wrapped their hands several times with a long, wide, bright ribbon, symbolically entwining their fates with each other for eternity.

Are they about to hear the dragon's roar, to learn that Daemon and Rhaenyra have seized the opportunity, their nuptials to burn King's Landing?

This, her by his side, her body and her gaze meant only for him for the rest of his days could not become true.

"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words." The Septon said, and he swallowed with difficulty, feeling his lips dry with emotion.

They looked at each other before opening their mouths, the words leaving his throat seeming to come out of him without the participation of his will.

"Father,

Smith,

Warrior,

Mother,

Maiden,

Crone,

Stranger

I am hers | I am his

and she is mine | and he is mine

from this day, until the end of my days."

He stared at her dully, waiting for the ground to part, for him to hear screams or someone's defiance, for some guard to run into the Sept, shouting that they had been attacked.

But only silence answered him.

She was his wife.

This thought, the fact that in front of witnesses they had spoken aloud the words of this vow, that the whole Kingdom had heard and seen it with their own eyes, that neither his brother nor anyone else could undo what had happened anymore, made him cup her rosy cheek in his hand, leaning over her.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love." He whispered only to sink a moment later into the sweet wetness of her full lips, her innocent sigh of delight making his manhood throb softly in his breeches.

He broke the kiss and pulled away, looking closely at her beautiful, bright face – she blinked and smiled, so tenderly and sweetly that he felt the corners of his mouth lift upwards too, in something that was not a grimace but an expression of his genuine happiness.

They were married.

They returned to the Red Keep on horseback, upright and proud, surrounded by hundreds of guards – no one, however, thought to curse or attack them – his grandfather's trick had worked, and the food he had distributed to the smallfolk before their nuptials had made them shower them with flowers.

They did not look at each other during their journey, however, he felt her presence beside him and that was enough for him.

When they reached the courtyard of the Red Keep he jumped off his mount and approached her mare, dismissing the guard, extending his hands to her, wanting to help her get down on the ground. She welcomed his hands reaching out towards her with a sweet smile, leaning on his shoulders, jumping directly into his arms.

He managed to place a quick little kiss on her warm cheek from which she blushed, looking up at him happily, placing her hand on his.

They stepped into the Throne Room first, followed by all the guests. He remembered little of his grandfather's toast and the words of the Lords who, one by one, stood before their table, wishing them happiness and prosperity.

He merely nodded, stunned and tired, dreaming only of escaping with her to his chamber and sinking between her warm thighs.

He looked at her as he felt the fingers of her hand, extended towards him on the armrest, brush his in the air – he hummed under his breath and his knuckles ran over her soft skin in a gesture of reciprocation.

In keeping with his grandfather's desire, the servants tasted everything before it was served on their plates – still, when the wine was finally poured for him and his wife, he surprised her by taking her cup from her hand, taking the first sip from it.

It was sweet and tasted as usual, so he handed the goblet back to her – her look of affection and gratitude told him what she thought of what he had done and how she intended to reward him later.

He swallowed hard and took another sip of wine, this time from his own goblet, feeling that his erection was all swollen, throbbing with lust in his breeches.

He craved her so badly.

They all raised their gazes upwards when a guard stood in the doorway, a drop of cold sweat ran down his back at the thought that they had been attacked after all.

"King Aegon Targaryen, the Second of His Name. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." He called out, and he and everyone around him froze.

Aegon stepped with difficulty, with one hand supporting himself on his staff, the other having thrown over the neck of Larys Strong, who was careful not to let his brother fall.

That fucking viper, he thought.

The burnt part of his brother's face was covered by the golden mask his father had worn towards the end of his life – their resemblance, their raked silhouette struck him so much that he simply sat and looked.

"– stand up – stand up, you fool –" Otto hissed and jerked him – he rose immediately from his seat, and with him his wife and all the others gathered.

His mother ran up to his brother, asking loudly how he could get out of bed while he was in such a state, whose idea it was to strain his weak body, but Aegon did not even look at her, his gaze fixed on him.

"Put a chair for His Grace right next to mine. My brother wishes to dine with us." He ordered loudly, feeling like he was a small child again, his heart pounding like mad with terror.

Aegon was brought to his seat by the guards – he himself held him down as he nearly fell over, panting heavily, pale and shivering all over from exertion. His brother exhaled loudly as he finally collapsed into his chair, and he and the rest of the room also took their seats.

"I have come to personally congratulate my brother and my cousin." Aegon said loudly, breathing hard, his words echoing through the chamber. "Though I must admit that their marriage comes as a surprise to me."

He stared dully at his plate, wanting to disappear, to melt into the ground, to not exist, feeling that his heart was about to leap out of his chest.

"However, the Kingdom cannot be left without an heir – I, because of my condition, will beget neither son nor daughter, so we must rely on my brother and his strong seed. I hope that on this night, I, as well as the rest of the court, will witness how the future Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms will be begotten." He said, lifting his wine cup – no one responded to his toast, but Aegon did not seem to mind – he drank the entire contents of it in a strangle.

That night, I, as well as the rest of the court, will witness how the future King of the Seven Kingdoms will be begotten.

"No." He hissed, their mother, trying to change his mind, took Aegon's hand in hers.

"My son, that's not appropriate, that's…"

"It is the King's command." His brother replied, not even looking at them – Otto leaned towards him from the other side, trying to intervene.

"Your Grace, I am not a supporter of this tradition myself – it is not conducive to neither marital intimacy nor the said begetting of offspring." He said, and Aegon laughed out loud.

"I don't care, you old fool."

Standing in his chamber in the company of his grandfather, Aegon, his friends, the would-be members of the Kingsguard, and the few Lords his brother had forced to watch this pathetic spectacle, he felt tears under his eyelids, even though his face was stony.

He had the impression that everything inside him froze while he looked towards the three-door screen, behind which Lysa was helping his wife undo her gown.

He thanked the gods that his mother left the chamber, unable to look at it.

He wondered whether, if he fell to his knees before his brother and begged him for forgiveness, he would take pity on them.

He shuddered, snapped out of his reverie, panicked and terrified when her beautiful, girlish figure clad only in a thin, snow-white nightgown came out from behind the screen, her long hair loose, her gaze fixed on him gentle and warm.

He swallowed hard as she reached her hand out to him, walking over to his bed – the sight of her not being as terrified as he was, of her not crying gave him strength – he moved towards her, and when he finally stood in front of her, she sidestepped him and walked over to the pillars of the bed, untying the curtains, pulling them all the way open so that they covered what was to happen behind them.

She wanted to give them a bit of privacy, he thought with gratitude.

"No. We must see that Prince Aemond has done his duty." Said Aegon, their grandfather, however, immediately protested.

"Looking at the bare bodies of someone other than one's spouse is a sin, Your Grace, and we will not be sanctioning such practices in this keep." He said in a voice cold and final, and his brother fell silent.

He felt some kind of relief when at last the silhouettes around them disappeared behind the cream curtains, indistinct and distant, seeming to him to be only a bad dream.

His wife, his hāedar approached him with an expression on her face as if she was ready for battle, and as soon as her hand brushed his jaw, his nose sunk into her warm, soft cheek, his arms embraced her at the waist, seeking refuge.

"Don't give him the satisfaction. Make it so you peak as soon as possible and don't worry about me. I've been wet for you for days and I'll take you inside me with ease." She whispered tenderly, and he felt his manhood pulsate hard, a pleasant shiver running along his spine, giving him hope.

She was on his side.

She had strength and courage when he lacked it.

His wife.

"Come." She whispered further, undoing his belt and the fastenings of his tunic with quiet clicks, while he pulled at the ties of her nightgown in one gentle motion, loosening the whole material, which slipped from her shoulders.

In some natural, affectionate reflex, they began to kiss – her puffy lips were wonderfully sweet and familiar, warm and moist, her saliva melting on his tongue.

He felt a pleasant warmth in his heart and the fact that his erection grew hard at the sight of her naked body, reminding himself of the tension he had felt for days.

He thought that by the fact that it had been so long since he had experienced fulfilment, a few sure thrusts deep into her warm flesh should allow him to do his duty and end it.

He was comforted by this and by the tenderness of her hands, by the way her fingers stroked his hair and neck, pulling off his tunic, his shirt and his breeches, allowing them both to finally remain completely bare.

As she lay on the bed on her back and gave him one, comforting, sweet smile, reaching out her hand to him, he just lay on top of her, looking at her face for a moment, their hands stroking their cheeks tenderly.

"– forgive me –" He whispered in trembling voice, wanting her to know that he was furious that they'd been forced into this, that like her he'd imagined it completely different, that as much as he'd wanted this, he hadn't been able to protect them.

He was afraid that if he resisted his brother, he would take revenge on him, or worse, on her.

"– shhh – put it inside me – make me whole again –" She gasped softly and they both sighed as she spread her thighs in front of him, her hand gently grasping his throbbing erection, directing it to her small slit.

They kissed tenderly, their naked bodies pressed against each other as he slid between her dripping walls with a soft, slow push of his hips – her cunt, true to her word was wonderfully wet and warm, offering him no resistance.

The thought that even if he didn't give her fulfilment, he wouldn't cause her pain either was comforting to him.

He thought he would make it all up to her later.

She moaned softly as he nestled his face against her cheek and began to thrust into her fleshy, throbbing core, the quiet slapping of their naked bodies against each other, her familiar arms, her wonderful scent, her sweet sounds made a pleasant wave of heat surge through his loins, making him completely hard.

He breathed a sigh of relief, thinking only of how long he had waited for this, imagining that he had taken her in the royal gardens on the grass, that she had been unable to resist him despite her determination.

"– hāedar –" He gasped as he felt her fingers clench tighter on his back, sliding down to his buttocks, her hips rolling in response to his increasingly aggressive stabs, her whimpers vulnerable and filled with pleasure as he hit her sweet spot again and again.

"– yes – yes, lēkia, right here –" She mumbled softly into his ear, and he restrained himself with difficulty not to moan, chasing his peak with the loud clicks of her little cunt.

He was so, so close, he thought with relief.

"– woof, woof – what's that supposed to mean? – I was hoping you'd demonstrate to us how the hound fucks –" He heard his brother's amused voice and froze, feeling his whole body tense up, the pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen turned into a cool wave of humiliation that ran along his back.

"– Your Grace – it's not dignified –" He heard the frustrated voice of their grandfather on the other side.

He felt himself begin to quiver, his lips parted in horror as he felt his erection become half-hard again, unsure what to do, hot tears of despair and shame gathered under his eyelids.

He sighed as he felt her hands simply press his face into the crook of her neck, giving him shelter, her lips placing warm, gentle kisses on his head, her fingers combing through his hair.

He just wanted to fall asleep in her embrace and never wake up again.

"– I'm just worried about my cousin and whether she'll experience pleasure – both she and I know how selfish my brother is – what he's capable of doing to get what he wants –" Aegon said, making heavy, burning tears run down his cheeks one by one, his eyebrows arching in pain as her arms hugged him tighter to her body, wanting to protect him from what was happening.

"– do you trust me? –" She asked so quietly that only he was able to hear her.

He swallowed hard, choking on his own tears, trying not to make a sound.

Did he trust her?

He wished he did.

He nodded and felt her arms push him away, as if she was trying to force him to change position, finally turning him onto his back, sitting on top of him with his soft manhood inside her – she leaned over him, pressing her palms to the sides of his face as if she just wanted to cup his cheeks, while doing it so hard that he stopped hearing anything.

His heart pounded harder when he heard his brother's voice again, but as if from afar, unable to understand the words he had spoken – his wife kissed his forehead and then brushed her lips gently against his, lazily rolling her hips back and forth, teasing him.

His hands rose to her body, to her back, her waist and her hair, stroking her bare skin as if it were something delicate and precious, her sweet breasts pressed against his torso.

Her insides were wonderfully warm, her lips moist and full, her gaze tenderly fixed on his – her thumbs stroked his cheeks, but her hands stayed in the same position, keeping him from listening to what was happening around them.

A pleasant shiver ran down his spine again as the tip of her slick tongue slid invitingly between his lips, licking him in a way from which his cock pulsed aggressively inside her.

She moaned, feeling it, rocking her hips with quiet clicks of her moisture – he bent his legs at the knees, responding to her movements with tentative thrusts, feeling her walls growing tighter again, a quiet sigh escaped his throat as his hands clamped down on her firm breasts.

"– yes – yes, just like that, my sweet husband –" He heard her voice, her face pressed against his neck as her spine curved into the letter s, allowing him to admire the shape of her plump buttocks.

He clamped his hands on them, imposing a fast, rough pace on her, panting hard, trying not to think or be, only to take what was familiar and desired, what he had waited so long for.

He pulled himself up and sat down, wanting to feel her from a different angle, and she put her arms around his head, again covering his ears – he heard them both moan loudly as he began to thrust into her anew, his face snuggled between her beloved, soft breasts, making him feel at home.

"– Aemond – ah, g-gods, yes, yes, yes –" He heard her whimper, her thirsty, leaking cunt soaking him completely every time he slammed into her again and again, opening her violently on the fattest part of his cock, all throbbing with pain.

He was wonderfully close, he knew that – he looked at her, at her beautiful, sweet face, and she kissed him so tenderly and softly that tears ran down his cheeks – he felt the familiar tightness in his stones and breathed a sigh of relief as, with his groan of pleasure, his seed finally spilled inside her, her fleshy walls giving him a few more squeezes, sucking his spend deep inside her.

He heard her breathe a sigh of relief as she placed small, soft kisses on his hair, as if to tell him wordlessly that she was proud of him.

As her hands stroked his head and back, he heard someone's slow footsteps and hisses of pain – he exhaled loudly as the door to his chamber opened and those gathered began to leave.

And then there was silence.

"– are we alone? –" He muttered at last and felt her kiss the top of his head, cuddling him into her body.

"– yes, my love –" She whispered and wanted to say something else, but she didn't, because he burst out in a loud, childish sob.

He snuggled into her, choking on his own tears, feeling them flow and flow and flow, unable to stop it – he heard her hush him tenderly, pressing his face between her breasts, hearing how much he was suffering, how humiliated and weak he felt.

"– shhh – I know – you were so brave –" She whispered, and he wept loudly, thinking that he wasn't a man, that surely she herself would now look at him with pity.

"– forgive me –" He mumbled wearily, and in response her lips kissed his forehead, sweaty from exertion and stress.

"– I have nothing to forgive you for – the King put us in an impossible position, we couldn't behave any other way – your task was much more difficult – a woman can just lie down and wait it out, but it is the man who must desire her despite what is happening around him – Aegon wanted to humiliate you but he failed – calm down, brother, breathe – there is nothing more he can do to us –" She said and he just listened to her, panting hard, needing her words, her reassurances like air.

"– he did it again – mocked me again –" He blurted out with difficulty.

"– he heard that what you were doing to me gave me pleasure, and that's why he said all those awful things – he is jealous, brother, because he knows that no woman will ever desire him again – that it is your children who will sit on the Iron Throne –" She said tenderly and he swallowed hard.

"– ours –" He corrected her and heard her smile, stroking his head tenderly.

"– ours –" She hummed and he nestled closer to her, brushing her bare back with his fingers, his soft erection still deep inside her.

He didn't want to slid it out of her yet, because he felt safe in her warm, fleshy body.

"– I ruined our wedding night – I didn't give you fulfillment –" He whispered, and she shook her head.

"– we both know that our wedding night was the night before you flew out to Rook's Rest – that's when I lost my maidenhood and became yours – my fulfillment can wait, just as you patiently waited for me for many days –" She said softly, and for some reason he felt relief.

He sniffed with his nose and let her go when he felt her wanting to get up from his lap, gently sliding his warm, soft manhood out of her – he immediately turned away from her and lay on his side, curling up so that he lifted his knees almost under his chin, embracing his legs with his arms.

He was not a man or a lover, he was nobody, he thought, whooping with tears again, unable to calm down.

Woof, woof.

He pressed his lips together when he felt her soft body lay behind him, her breasts pressed against his back, her arms embracing his waist, stroking his musclar stomach – he closed his eyes as her mouth placed a moist, loud kiss on the back of his head.

"– iksan kesīr, valzȳrys (I'm here, husband) – aōha ābrazȳrys iksis ondoso aōha paktot (your wife is by your side) –" She whispered, and he exaled, gently taking her hands in his, entwining their fingers together.

He swallowed hard when he heard her open her mouth, her fingertips stroking his skin soothingly.

Sleep my baby on my bosom

Warm and cozy will it prove

Round thee mother’s arms are folding

In her heart a mother’s love

There shall no one come to harm thee

Naught shall ever break thy rest

Sleep my darling babe in quiet

Sleep on mother’s gentle breast.

He felt that this time it was a tears of emotion that ran down his hot cheeks – his chest was rising and falling in heavy breaths, hearing how warm and melodious her voice was.

He wasn't sure if his mother had ever sung lullabies to him, but the fact that she did it now to soothe and comfort him, made a wonderful, warm feeling spread through his heart.

He swallowed hard as silence fell around them – his thumb brushed the soft skin of her hand, only three pleading words leaving his mouth.

"Sing some more."

[s4ndb0xfung1]

The Shape/Michael A. Myers SFW & NSFW Headcanons MINORS DNI!!!!

Been working on some headcanons for Michael Myers for a while, he is such a lovely slasher I love him so much!. wish he would fill me up irl. also this is a completely Gender less headcanon so nobody will feel left out.

SFW Headcanons

Michael has ASPD because of that he struggles with understanding when you feel hurt by some of his actions, especially when it comes to dragging dirt into the newly cleaned house. or when he is covered in blood trying to lay beside you in your shared beds. But also when he is too rough with you, as well with breaking your stuff.

one time he hurt you really badly by hitting you in the face, when trying to move his mask, he didn't get why you were so upset at him, you cried a lot in your now shared bedroom. you had a dark black eye for over a week after the incident, and michael left you be for the first 3 days. After that he tried apologizing in his own way by spending time with you. 

you had to teach him “treat people like you want to be treated” something children learn young, but you had to remind yourself that Michael did not have a normal childhood nor normal interactions with other kids when he was young, and because of that took it easy with him the first month.

He learned pretty quickly how to behave around you.

Michael is like a cat and would leave dead creatures in your living room, this can be from dead animals like birds, wild turkeys and even one time a deer. The worst he had done was when he brought you a dead cow, you had to explain to him that he could not just steal farmers, animals.let alone a cow.

you had to force him to wash that gross mask, before you swore you could see green stink lines coming out of that gross thing.

he likes to bathe with you whether it be bathing in a bath or taking a shower together, he really likes to be close to you. not just that he likes it when you fuss over him, he likes it when you scrub his hair with the shampoo. or when you wash his body from soap, even when the bath is done and you put on lotion he will just watch you.

you tried getting him to try out the body lotion you have, but he doesn't really get WHY he should put it on and the sensation of being sticky after a bath really makes his skin crawl. He just puts it on his arms and T-Poses until it dries or he can handle the sensation.

originally he would walk around in his dirty overall all the time until you told him you would blend his mask if he did not just take it off to wash it as well as having to wear other clothes for once.

when you went out shopping clothes with him, it was kind of weird forcing him to try out clothes to make sure the shirts and pants where his size,

It took you 3 tries to get the right size for both shirt and pants, this absolute UNIT of a man could not even fit in a large or XL due to his height and density.

You wanted him to try on so.e sweatpants only to be flashed with his package. You quickly gave him an XXL, so he could actually sit in the parts without breaking them at the seams, as well to not flash any poor unsuspecting people.

After the shopping you decided to get some food from. The food court in the mall you went to. And discovered that Michael really liked spicy food even when you knew he hadn't built up the tolerance for it. You came to the conclusion he most likely likes the feeling of pain that comes with eating really spicy food.

You also realized that Michael really REALLY likes sugary stuff, you already knew he had a little sweet tooth due to your chocolate disappearing sometimes, but you never knew how much he actually loved sweets. It was to the point where you felt disgusted he could eat those sugar bombs.

He wears the mask all the time. The only time he takes it off is when he is forced to clean the mask or when you want to take him out shopping.

Due to the fact you are far away from Haddonfield you don't have to fear that much that someone might recognize michael. tough people are kind of freaked out by him. mostly because he wears a black medical mask., but also due to him standing almost completely still behind you while waiting for you to choose the right cereal, and staring like a toddler when people get too close.

mentioning toddlers, Michael and toddlers would stare at each other. until you or the parent interfere, and tell them to stop. While Michael doesn't really show his emotions on his face, you swear he gets really proud when he wins the staring contest.when he is the one losing he pouts.

When you make food Michael will either stand at the end of the kitchen watching you, or sitting on the couch not doing anything. He likes to hear you work but he gets bored quickly if you are not paying attention to him.

He barely watches TV but when he does he gets absorbed into it, almost like a trance. His favorite show is “Too Cute” on Animal planet, not because he finds the animals interesting but because it calms him down for some reason. you like watching it with him.

you try to get him to watch TV shows and movies with him, which he does sit down and watch with you but he does not get that much into it, he just likes to watch it because it is with you. The same goes for music.

When he wants to relax he wears a T-shirt and sweatpants. He likes how soft they are. However, when he has to go to bed you get him some really soft pajamas. He doesn't wear them often because he forgets about them due to his relaxation clothes being just as soft for him. He puts them on when you 2 go to bed right after a bath, or when you have just changed the sheets. though that is because you tell him to.

NSFW Headcanons

Michael did masturbate a lot both when he was incarcerated, he would use it to pass time in the psych ward. He didn't really care that the staff could see him doing it through the cameras in his cell.

His dick is bigger than the average person, being 6,5 inches in length. however he is pretty girthy, and it points a little upwards, he is also circumcised. 

He had no idear of what he was doing when you two first started fucking. He was so bad you had to tell him how to insert his dick into you, and why he could not just ram it in, but had to ease it in.

you also had to educate him on how to use condoms, lube as well as how to make sex pleasurable for the both of you.

Michael is allergic to silicone based lube, and because of that he is also allergic to condoms as well. He is luckily not too allergic to them, only gives him itchiness in his crotch area. When it first happened you both had to wait with sex for a week. you had to continuously put some form of salve on his area, and you also had to continuesly stop him from trying to fuck you after touching him there. 

After that situation you looked out for anything containing silicone or latex based products.

when you two finally had fucked it open up the pandoras box for all the dirty things you two would get up and in to.

you have fucked on the kitchen table on the couch in the shower one time he fucked you against the door of the main intrance. most likely scaring you neighbors. but most of the time he prefers the bedroom, not the bed but the bedroom. it's a place where you two can be left alone so you both cannot get unwanted guests.

Here are some quick kinks Michael discovered with you and when.

He learned he likes to choke you, he learned that when you tried to get up after an orgasm but he wanted you to stay down. He took hold of your throat in one hand and pushed you down into the maddress, not enough to choke you out of breath but to hold you down. he had to stop what he was doing after hearing the loudest moan come out of you, he really liked having that effect over you while also having control.

Michael likes impact play, you were head down ass up position and was moving around, Michael got really angry. He smacked your ass really hard, making you squeal by both pain and surprise. He liked the way he could hurt you while you also feeling pleasurable. He really likes making you feel good.

a similar thing happened when he slapped your crotch hard, he really liked the way you moan and whine.

he likes to restrain you in some way or another, when fucking on the kitchen table he lifted you up, holding you close while roughly hitting your hips together. It was a cold day so having you close was really nice to him.

Some of his favorite positions are the ones where you are off the ground, he likes the fact  you are completely defenseless and at his mercy. it gives him a sense of power, especially over you.

He doesn't talk normally and neither in the bed, however you can hear deep breaths, small whimpers and moans as well a lot of growls, his voice is really deep and it almost gives a little vibration through you.

Michael is still too green when it comes to sex for you two to incorporate toys into your adventures. same with preferences when it comes to if he wants to come in or on you and where he would like to come on you.