#don't worry about where they got the cat

[dykeyaoi]

the ID was really long so I put it in the alt text

every couple of middle schoolers has to have a kinda bad YouTube channel for awhile

[arsonforcharlie]

pigeon got a little shirt!

it's difficult to tell whether she likes it though. I assume she's thrilled.

[auroraknux]

My wishes/predictions for the Mario movie:

Wholesome brotherly moments with Mario and Luigi

Mario worrying about Luigi

An acceptable amount of Luigi screentime/Luigi having his own little adventure

Mario and Luigi reunion hug

Mario and Peach shipteasing

Romantic scene in the fire flower field

Mario and Peach almost kiss but Toad interrupts them

Bowser villain song

Luigi sings (Charlie Day can sing from what I've heard)

Koopa Troopa does the NSMB dance

If Peach gets captured, I want it to be after an epic fight with Bowser or his minions

Peach being cool in general

But also being nice

Please at least let her actually use the halberd

Luigi's Mansion reference/Luigi encounters Boos

Mario rides a Yoshi

Mario accidentally drops Yoshi into a gap when making a jump. He freaks out, then it turns out the fall wasn't that long and Yoshi is fine

Mario "loses a life"/the 1-Up mushroom is incorporated in some way (maybe in the climax?)

Mr. L cameo or reference (highly unlikely)

Beanbean Kingdom or Prince Peasley mention (definitely not happening)

Bowser Jr. is at least mentioned

References to the RPGs

An explanation for why Peach is the only human in the Mushroom Kingdom (not likely but would be cool)

Mario, Luigi, Peach, and Toad all beat Bowser together (or at the very least, Mario and Luigi)

References to the old cartoons (we already got a Super Show ref in that one leaked poster)

The king penguin gets dropped off of/dangled over a cliff

Someone says "The princess is in another castle"

Acknowledgement of Mario and Luigi being twins

Mario says "So long, King Bowser!" when defeating him/Mario defeats Bowser by picking him up by the tail and throwing him

Peach kisses Mario at the end

Rosalina is acknowledged, or her existence is hinted at (one of the McDonalds toys was a Luma, so it seems likely)

In the climax, Bowser uses the Power Stars, and it turns him invincible

I saw people suggest that the blue shelled Paratroopa might attack Mario's kart during the Rainbow Road scene (I think this would be very funny)

Blue shelled Paratroopa is going to play a significant role

A scene where everyone is cheering "Mario! Mario!" and then it cuts to Luigi screaming "MARIOOOOOOO!" as he's running away from something

Ultimately, whatever we get, I just want a movie that's cute and fun. And so far, I'm very hopeful about that.

[twilit-tragedy]

god fucking damn my life, bro. I find a couple of ants in my room and immediately freak out. I start feeling shit crawling on me and turn on a flashlight to go look for some hidden source, already hyperventilating. And then I remember I woke up late and didn't take my morning meds. Girl, we have a balcony and my mom keeps plants there. Calm the fuck down. You like having the window open. It's FINE. It's just ants.

Last weekend I skipped my morning meds two days in a row cuz I woke up late and I feared sertraline insomnia - which, yes, in hindsight was a bad idea - and on Sunday I had a full meltdown. Granted, also period-related, but god fucking damn it. I tore my whole room apart. I couldn't vacuum under my bed easily because of my desk's placement so I decided I was going to move furniture around and reorganize my room. On a Sunday afternoon, in the summer and with tendonitis. All cuz I saw some ants and couldn't verify with my own two eyes every corner of the room. And because I couldn't physically move the wardrobe and bookcase, I guess I took out my anxiety with the remaining furniture. And god fucking damn it, here I am again a week later.

I keep finding ants (3) running on my desk all of a sudden while I'm SITTING THERE and have no idea ("no idea") where they're coming from (engage the phone flashlight routine). I moved this bitch AWAY from the window and they're fucking HUNTING me or smth (it's 35ºC out, girl). I hate my life. And I hate that any suggestion of bugs makes me start feeling shit on my skin that isn't there. Dumb fucking brain. Anyway I need sleep and to take my sertraline asap or else.

[cursedthingsshallwrite]

Unslaad prt 3 [wip]

“-and then Dov dove into the hole.”

Rhaenyra attempted to curb her laughter but couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped, hand out to accept Prince Lucerys’ help down from her stallion.

“After which Lucerys laughed so hard he tripped over a rock and fell into the hole with me” Dov bowed under Lucerys’ attempt to swipe at them. “He tried to climb out on his own for almost a full hour before he gave up and let me carry him out.”

What fortitude Rhaenyra was able to drag together was subsequently destroyed in less than three sentences as she clutched her stomach and let out a full-belly laugh. Surprising a large majority of the staff secretly bustling about the Red Keep as they paused to watch the Realm’s Delight quickly redden in embarrassment. She cleared her throat and ruthlessly attempted to cull the flush in her cheeks.

She watched as King and Prince exchanged looks again, one outright smiling while the other was doing his best to keep his lips flat.

“I apologize, I don’t know what came over me.” Rhaenyra straightened where she stood, in this moment she represented the Targaryens, and therefore needed to-

“Laughter is the best medicine in existence, you need not say your apologies where no offence was taken” King Dovahkiin said softly, then louder “besides, it’s good to know that I wasn’t the only one to find the moment humorous. Lucerys keeps trying to convince anyone who would listen that the ‘Dov dove’ is hilarious. Which I will say again Lucerys, a joke is not funny if it needs an explanation.”

Lucerys scowled “the pun is hilarious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

King Dovahkiin, in their infinite grace and courtly presence, stuck out their tongue at the Prince and blew a raspberry.

Rhaenyra didn’t laugh this time, but she did crack a smile at the antics.

She wondered if this was what was like to have siblings.

-

Despite the levity, and the surprising rapport two royals from Dremvothkrif built with the servants, the grand dinner arranged for Rhaenyra’s official announcement as heir to the Throne was a tense affair. Officially now, the Princess of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra sat with her father and Prince Lucerys – while King Dovahkiin was sat next to her father’s remaining side. Decidedly pushing out Otto Hightower and Daemon.

She could feel her uncle’s stare like a weight upon her brow, but somehow, she didn’t quite feel the need to return the stare, not with Prince Lucerys’ oddities set before her like a particularly interesting puzzle. The Prince had no issues dining; indeed, his table manners were impeccable and his voice polite and actually riveting as he described some of the places that were safe for people in the Shadow Lands. Certainly, she could tell there was much he was hiding, but the very way he seemed to poignantly avoid speaking of it seemed to be a quiet message to keep away from the topic without lying to her outright.

She appreciated it, the older she got the more times she’s had to sift through the lies of the court even when she was still her father’s cupbearer. “now I must ask Prince Lucerys-“ she watched as another servant delivered a plate of carefully arranged cooked vegetables and fruits, adornments of which were clearly picked off another dish before being delivered to the Prince. “-why are you receiving so many of these odd dishes?”

Prince Lucerys swallowed before glancing around and leaning towards her, Rhaenyra leaning forward just a little closer so the younger of the Septums wouldn’t have to speak any louder than a whisper.

“Dov can’t stomach vegetables” he said quietly “and usually they prefer to eat meat raw, product of having lived in the Shadowlands for so long and they don’t really have enough Valyrian blood to counter it. We didn’t want to be rude so I just try to eat what I can while Dov quickly sends over the things they can’t eat.”

“Oh” Rhaenyra looked around “I can have the servants send it away.”

Lucerys seemed to wince before smoothing his expression once more, smiling at a passing servant who quickly emptied another plate of vegetables into his. “We can’t waste food, much of Dremvothkrif’s traditions stand on being the most efficient as possible with the resources we have so throwing out otherwise perfectly fine food is looked down on, but Dov just really doesn’t like it on a personal level, bad experience with it. Normally we would host a feast with the rest of the town but…”

Rhaenyra nodded sympathetically, “Of course, would you feel better if I merely had the servants off-duty take what they can and perhaps pass out the rest?”

Lucerys smiled gratefully “that would be wonderful if you can – but ah, if anyone questions it, please place the blame on me. We appreciate you being so accommodating. I don’t want you to have to go through any ire because of it.”

“You are our guests, and of the blood of Old Valyria, it is the least we can do” Rhaenyra rested her hand on his shoulder briefly before signaling for one of her maids to whisper the order. Lucerys in the meantime did a wonderful job distracting several nobles from interrupting her, regaling stories of storms and mountains that spewed fire. It wasn’t long before she could divert her own attention to the on-going conversation between her father and the King of Dremvothkrif; listening intently as King Viserys asked questions of Dremvothkrif and the Shadowlands.

“I apologize if I come off as rude Dovahkiin” King Viserys said “but I am personally intrigued by your name, it does not seem Valyrian in origin.”

“It isn’t” Dovahkiin confirmed, choking down a well-cooked piece of hog as quickly and as politely as they could manage given the circumstances. “it is a Septum tradition actually, usually the child receives a title of sort for their deeds in the traditional tongue made up of words in the Dragon Tongue. Dovah kiin, in my case, can be translated roughly into Dragon born. My personal name is kept secret save for family unfortunately I am unable to share it. It is the opposite for Lucerys as he is of Valyrian blood, and therefore it is his Septum name that is kept personal.”

“Of course of course, I do hope you can forgive my curiosity. I have always been somewhat of a scholar, and remorse the fact that the Targaryen clan had managed to save all but the barest hints of its literature and culture” King Viserys smiled, tired and weary. Reminding Lucerys of the King the man would become in a few years’ time. “I’m glad that Dremvothkrif was so open to reconnecting, I swear to you Dovahkiin that you and yours will be treated as close as family during your stay. Ah, I have noticed you have not drunken any wine, is it perhaps not to your taste?”

Dov winced “I apologize, it is a habit of mine not to drink any liquid that is inebriating. The surroundings of what is livable on Dremvothkrif is rife with danger and beasts seeking to reclaim and expand their own territory, so I am amongst the first to respond to attacks of the like. The largest one we had was a Hydra that would have almost destroyed Graolerin a few months ago had it not been for our paranoia. I am sure the wine is very delicious.”

Rhaenyra glanced towards Lucerys and noticed that he too had not partaken in a drop of wine. Interesting.

“A hydra?” King Viserys asked, intrigued.

“A three headed beast; one head spews acid, another of flammable gas, and the third lights the gas. Furthermore, they are known for their accelerated healing and cutting off one head merely rapidly guarantees growth of two more. We try not to kill any if we do not have to, as they are the natural hunters of the dragons that call the Shadowlands home. Though they are thankfully not as dangerous when still in their fledgling ages – they usually have only the three or five heads – thereby making it easier pierce the body through to the heart.”

“That sounds…” Viserys winced “gruesome.”

“Indeed” Dov laughed “I’ve many scars to prove their danger, but thankfully as much as they are territorial, many of the established Hydras keep to their own. It is the young ones that tend to press against the boarders on the rare occasion.”

“Then, a toast to you then King Dovahkiin” King Viserys presented his cup before Dovahkiin, standing and addressing the other guests now that attention has been called for. “May my daughter’s reign be a wonderful one when she comes of age and may yours be many years still, so that the Westeros and Dremvothkrif would stand together, as allies in this harsh world. To new beginnings!”

Dovakiin politely toasted with their cup before setting it down, a boisterous chorus of echoes repeated after the King.

Talks continued, with Princess Rhaenyra and King Viserys both taking in tribute from the other Lords for her official ascension as heiress to the throne. It was around the time of the party winding down and people beginning to drunkenly find their way back to their rooms when Dovahkiin spoke again in regards to a matter outside of sharing knowledge and history.

“I believe it would be about time to present gifts of our own” Dovahkiin said, a smile quirked on their lips.

“Oh?” King Viserys looked on as two servants came forward.

“Thank you Edward, Arthur” Rhaenyra’s eyes snapped to the King of Dremvothkrif as they greeted the servants by name. Rising from their seat to walk around and help support this massive square shape covered in a black silk. Daemon had moved up the tables by then, sliding closer with a drink in his hand to the scene while the guests that remained sober lingered in interest. Whispered gossip of this new ally coming to such an event without bearing tribute suddenly halted in the face of evidence otherwise.

Dovahkiin snatched black silk off, revealing what was underneath.

Rhaenyra allowed herself to gape before forcibly shutting her jaw closed.

Presented in a beautiful frame of dragon glass and a clear pane of glass was a map of delicate detail. Carefully drawn specs presented mountains and forests and rivers while washes of ink seemed to make each little detail rise up from the parchment. The map had some age, slightly yellow with time and slight scuffs at the edges where it must have been torn slightly in some places – it would have been an insult had the work of the map not been so fine.

Even the Shadowlands, normally a jagged blob of ink on any map, was beautifully rendered and revealed a mountainous landscape with slightly darker swirls that appeared like smoke.

“I will freely admit that Dremvothkrif has not been as isolated as we would like people to think” Dovahkiin explained with a mischievous quirk on their lips. “For the past ten years we have been sending teams of explorers to assess a large majority of the known world and record them to the best of their ability, to expand on the knowledge gathered generations ago closer to the founding of Dremvothkrif and the arrival of the survivors of the Doom. This is the most complete result of our labor for now. I hope you don’t mind the lack of lettering, it is the master copy and therefore I wasn’t to add any locations until the information recorded was certain.”

Daemon was the one who spoke this time. “You made this?”

If Dovahkiin was surprised by the sudden new voice, they did not show. “I did, sort of? It’s really just a culmination of the work my people did once they returned home. But having a hand in the creation of a gift is a type of tradition in Dremvothkrif. To show one’s regard and sincerity, the gift is usually of one’s own creation. Although admittedly-“ they reached out for one of the bags held by the servants and pulled out several very old set of books covered with a deep colored leather, as well as one in black that seemed very different from the others. “this one is a bit of a cheat, it’s merely my copy of some of the books we were able to save from Old Valyria, and my own findings regarding some of the translation work.”

Dovahkiin walked over, presenting the books to Daemon, drawing Viserys’ eyes, and barely held together hysteria as it was the first time in a very very long time the older had seen his usually mercurial brother flush and in awe as he carefully reached out for the books as if they were his own children. Which might actually not be too far off actually, considering the history of Old Valyria and anything to do with the Targaryen motherland was something of a precious hobby both brothers shared.

Rhaenyra just stared unashamed, though she herself was taken aback by the gravity of what her family had just been given, what can she say? Her uncle was quite fetching in that shade of red.

“And finally, to the Princess of Dragon Stone and Realm’s Delight, to Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen” the Dovahkiin reached into a different bag, this one subtly glowing before fading back into the fabric, quicker than the eyes could catch. Dov presented a beautiful set of leather armor that gleaned with iridescent scales complete with a pair of trousers, gauntlets, and boots.

Instead of allowing the servants or maids to take it away, Dovahkiin presented the armor to Rhaenyra directly, not letting go until Rhaenyra clutched the armor between her hands. Surprised at the lightness of it all, and watching the scales shift in a rainbow of color under the light. It was then that Dovahkiin allowed others to take the gauntlets and boots, all of which seemed to be a hybrid of some sort of thick black material that seemed almost wood in texture, only select parts of it being lined with this strange leather. It was well made, and definitely created with her growth in mind – the armor having several carefully tucked and hidden straps for the ultimate ease of adjustment.

However, there was also a sword.

Bladed at one edge, it was a stretch of sword that seemed to be forged to almost look like an odd tree branch, twisted until coming to a delicate bend that met with a straight line at the back of the sword. The hilt was curved at the end with a gold pommel that had just enough space to rest a pinky within the bend, closer inspection would reveal the fine filigree carved into tiny details but not enough to make the sword particularly unwieldy. Near the tang of the blade was a sprinkle of what seemed to be rubies that shined in twinkles under the firelight, almost giving the sword a glow of its own. It would be long for her age, but in time the length would be comfortable.

Lucerys, who could recognize an enchanted weapon when he saw one, knew it fucking glowed.

The rest remained in awed blissful ignorance.

“Normally, I would have the intended wielder name the weapons I make” Dov said, voice seemingly carried by nothing more than the hush that overcame the party. “So I hope the Princess would pardon me for naming it before I would ask, the name of the blade is thus: Yolvey, the Fang of Flames. May it protect you well Princess.”

Dovahkiin manipulated the sword with nimble fingers, the metal singing as it cut through the air until they held it in front of them. The flat of the blade comfortably in the middle of their face. 

Suddenly it wasn’t just a King presenting gifts, suddenly it was something else. Something more. Something otherworldly, although there was only one person in the entire room who could figure out why.

The Laat Dovahkiin closed their eyes and placed a reverent kiss on the flat of it, the blade seeming to hum before settling – before Dovahkiin walked around to kneel on one knee before Rhaenyra, blade presented forth.

With shaking fingers, Rhaenyra accepted the sword, the handle warming pleasantly under her hands – and in her mind’s eye a voice whispered beneath her subconscious.

‘Master.’ Whispered the sword.

Now given life.

^0~0^

“It might have been too much, was it too much?” Dovahkiin asked, pacing the room.

“What exactly did you enchant her sword with?” Lucerys hissed “it glowed.”

“Oh you know, if she cuts it with the right motivation it may or may not make the victim burst into flames.”

“...Dov.”

“I thought it would be useful! Plus! Dragon rider, flaming sword? I couldn’t just give her a regular sword, what was I going to do? Make the thing poison whoever it cuts? That’s so boring.”

“It sets people on fire Dov.”

Dov huffed crossing their arms. “I was an adventurer too you know, before I took an arrow to the knee.”

“But did you have to do that whole ceremony? I think my Step-Father, Mother, and grandfather might have fallen in love at the same time for a short time and I am very uncomfortable with that fact” Lucerys said, partially joking, just to see the abject look of horror on the old dragon’s face.

He took a swig from a privately acquired pitcher of wine in front of his seat at Dovahkiin’s fireplace. They had given them what looked like the near best damn room in the entirety of the keep, he was fairly certain this room had been reserved for one of his siblings at one point, but he couldn’t really figure out if it was him or Jace.

“It’s Skyrim tradition” Dovahkiin defended weakly, suddenly meek “you can’t gift an enchanted weapon like that without blessing it, I had to. Besides, your family is too young for me Drog.”

“I don’t think that’s what did it Dov.” Drog made a vague motion with his hands, deliberately referring to all of Dovahkiin. “It’s…this. Being around you can be very intense very quickly.”

“Huh.”

Lucerys blinked, moving away from his drink for the moment. “You know I meant that as a joke right?”

“No, you aren’t as wrong as you may think” Dov’s fingers twitched, a chair dragging itself from the side closer than what would have been advisable to the open fireplace before crashing in. “I just didn’t expect them to be influenced by my presence to such a degree, I hadn’t realized it would be different here.”

Dov paused before turning to the blazing fire, reaching out and arranging the wood so that they were neatly stacked. Expression contemplative before taking back their hand and patting out what cloth managed to catch on fire. “I just didn’t expect the level of magic seeped into their bones; I could hardly tell them apart from the Dov that laid within that pit.”

Lucerys leaned forward “And I’m only learning this now? What do you mean you have an influence?”

Dovahkiin shrugged. “I don’t know the exact nature of it, I only know that my presence has an effect on living creatures. They kept my body the same, so I’m uncertain if it is something they added, or it is simply a result of my age. Could also be my magic or the souls of the Dov I carry. It could even be whatever magic Old Valyria had used to bond riders to wyverns. The only thing I know of for certain is that most Dov recognize me, perhaps on some level, that bond they share with their wyverns might give them more insight than most would have normally. And when we met…”

“Arrax had died” Lucerys muttered, taking a bigger gulp straight from the wine pitcher. “And I was dead.”

Dov tilted their head to rest on their shoulder, knee tucked into the seat. “Are you going to sleep?”

“No.”

“Me neither.” Dov drummed their fingers against the arm of the chair. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Lucerys straightened “trouble?”

“Not sure yet” they said softly “I just know it’s coming.”

“Yeah” Lucerys whispered, holding the pitcher close “I feel something too. Storm. Big one.”

“Mn.”

They sat in silence for the rest of the night.

-

The Targaryens that called the Red Keep home perked up as a maid came in and curtseyed before them at their breakfast.

She bowed apologetically “I’m sorry your Majesty, my Lady, my Lord. Neither their highness King Dovahkiin nor Prince Lucerys were in their rooms.”

Rhaenyra frowned “did they leave any note as to where they were going?”

Thunder ominously rolled throughout the town, shuddering through the Red Keep.

“No my lady, but I did inquire to some of the morning hands and they said they had both sped out of the room near sunrise in a most urgent manner.”

Then another ran through the door, one of the watchmen stationed around the city walls, a younger recruit by the look of him as he bowed before the royal family hastily. Stopping short of crashing into the dining hall completely by the King’s guard “T-the guests- the Prince-“

“Take a breath boy” Daemon commanded “speak clearly.”

The watchman took a deep breath, lungs audibly wheezing as he did so before straightening to the young man’s full height. “At twilight his highness Prince Lucerys and the King Dovahkiin had run out and jumped off the wall.”

Rhaenyra nearly dropped her utensils. “Excuse me?”

“Something had sped past the walls and caught them, we weren’t entirely sure what to do save for raising the alarm but King Dovahkiin- they said not to and to call up however many able-bodied maester we could rouse to the wall. He- After an hour Prince Lucerys delivered two crewmembers who seemed on the verge of death. Another hour later two more. As far as we gathered, lightning had struck the main mast during the night and the combination with the storm had capsized their ship before they could make it to harbor.” The watchman took another breath “Just a few minutes ago I was ordered to report and request linen wraps to dress wounds.”

“Has the Prince returned?” King Viserys demanded.

“We saw something at a distance, but I had been sent off before it was confirmed Sire.”

Daemon rose to his feet “what the actual fuck is with these royals-“

“Daemon” King Viserys sighed.

“You can’t argue against their oddness brother” Daemon moved to walk out the door “I’m going to figure out what the fuck happened – you, get the linens that were requested.”

“Yes my Lord.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Rhaenyra” King Viserys sighed.

“You placed our guests under my responsibility Father, if they are still out there, I should be among the first to fly out for their return.”

“…very well” King Viserys grumbled “but come straight here after, I want to know what happened.”

“Yes father.”

-

“What in the fuck.”

Rhaenyra agreed.

“Move out of the fucking way.” The King of Dremvothkrif yelled.

Maesters and guards scrambled out of the way as the bird-like dragon dipped down in slow circles. Prince Lucerys sat behind the reigns by himself.

Which meant that King Dovahkiin was was hanging by the dragon’s talons. Daemon would be impressed if he wasn’t so damn distracted by the makeshift sling that was holding one man aloft in the dragon’s grip, a series of clothes tied in complicated knots that looked like they came out of a hodgepodge of rope, cloth, and what seemed to be two shirts that made up the handle of this strange looking sling.

The King landed on the stone wall without so much as a pause, reaching out to catch the bottom of the sling.

“Bo mulhaan.”

Daemon could feel his body freeze before he could wonder what happened, yet something in his mind whispered, ‘not you’.

Exchanging glances with Rhaenyra confirmed that she had felt the same thing.

Yet above them, the feathered dragon Rhaenyra had faced managed to hover just until Dovahkiin was able to catch whoever remained in the sling, setting them down gently onto the floor. Impressive considering whoever the man was laid wider than the foreign King was tall.

“Hi lost dreh” Dovahkiin yelled up.

“Mindoraan” Lucerys called out.

Riiziizul screeched before turning to land, Prince Lucerys leaping from the seat to land into a roll.

“Where are those fucking linens?!” Dovahkiin hissed.

“Here!” One Maester’s apprentice sped past Daemon and Rhaenyra, who stood in watch as the two royals seemed to command the chaos to heel in an admittedly admirable fashion. To the point where almost everyone present for the storm seemed to skip over their presence.

“Fascinating.” Rhaenyra muttered under her breath.

Daemon tilted his head in her direction without moving his eyes away from the scene before him.

“It’s as if they’re in battle” Rhaenyra continued “but what are they fighting?”

Daemon glanced at some of the rescued men that seemed to have glanced the touch of the Stranger. Some passed out with their wounds but breathing. Others awake and encouraging their fellows to stay awake, the few still standing was up to their necks deep in the chaos alongside everyone else. Whether motivated by the adrenaline running through their veins or the energy dragged out of them by the foreign royalties who told them to move or be moved was anyone’s guess.

There was a maniac energy in their eyes, a frenzied movement to each command with each moment of running from one injured man to another. Screamed or yelled or snarled over the thunderous storm and flashing lightning. Uncaring of wet clothes, uncaring of wet stones and the sweat that mixed with the cold rain. There were grim expressions on all the maesters of the like that Daemon had seen very few of; whatever this battle was, you’d think that everyone was racing to snatch away each and every soul from the Stranger.

“The hell are you two standing around for?!” Dovahkiin barked at them “help me hold this man down so I can set his shoulder back!”

Daemon moved forward before he realized he was doing it, and he swore he was going to get to the bottom of why that is.

As soon as he finished with whatever this tyrannical king wanted him to do.

Unbeknownst to any party, Lucerys was in a crisis.

The frantic chaos of a team of maesters, his stepfather and his own mother was bizarrely familiar. Even with the crazy old dragon ordering them around and somehow getting the two most stubborn people he’s ever known to take orders from someone who wasn’t each other or his grandfather.

Ignoring the storm was second nature to him now, ignoring the hair sticking down to his head and the wet fabric that clung to his form and made his entire body heat amongst the chill. He worked quickly and efficiently as he could afford, cleaning and wrapping wounds and carefully assessing and noting down any major injuries he could find. The years had taught him to be a passible healer, but he wasn’t quite good enough to fix every single thing.

As the storm slowly began to pass over King’s Landing, sunlight filtered through. Rain petering into a soft drizzle that washed some of the blood away into the crack of the stone walls. He wiped and cleaned and bandaged as he could, checked and double checked to make sure the man was breathing and the lungs were clear of water. Attempting to avoid looking at this man’s face as best he could until he could avoid it no longer.

High cheekbones. A handsome face with a sharp jawline that was showing just the slightest hint of beard, wet and long blond hair curled from the humid storm, one eye shut from exertion. Another that was no longer there.

‘How’ he thought, half hysterical ‘how are you here?! Why?!’

He felt someone nudge him at the edge of his mind, Dovahkiin, sensing his ongoing conflict. Pushing him back from the brink with a firm but gentle shove.

Lucerys bit his bottom lip as he carefully brushed away the damp near silver locks from his current charge’s face, fingers gently sinking beneath to assess any damage to the skull – and finding only one spot that was slightly beginning to swell. The coldness of the rain had halted some of the progress, but he could tell based on the size and location that he would be unconscious for some time.

No blood from there though, which he supposed was good.

“-ire? Sire? Does this man require anything” one Maester asked.

He shook his head “head injury and some minor bruising, he should be fine once he gets dried off and warmed. Are there any others who need assistance?”

“No sire” the maester glanced in a direction that drew Lucerys’ eye. Towards Dovahkiin who was hovering over someone’s leg, expression blank before twisting the foot back from its odd position and ignoring the howling screams of its owner. Daemon at the other side holding the man down while Rhaenyra’s brow furrowed in concentration to focus on their instruction, wrapping the splint as evenly as she could in such.

“Any dead?” Lucerys asked, startling the maester, counting the heads – what brief glances he was able to take of their ship had informed him that there should’ve been at least thirty crew members, it was a little over the number.

“N-no sire, all of them are alive, if not awake.” The maester bowed “I-I admit I haven’t- this is-“

Lucerys turned back to face the maester, rather young, maybe not quite a maester but an apprentice of one – or just someone who was misfortunate enough to have enough knowledge in the matters of medicine and healing to be dragged along with Dovahkiin’s orders.

“-why sire?” he was asked.

Lucerys blinked before shrugging. “They needed help. So we helped.”

“But they are- they’re just-“ the man tried and failed to continue his sentence, but the message was clear enough to understand. ‘They’re just sailors’, these men were just regular people. Why is it that a King and a Prince would try so hard to save them? Lucerys himself hadn’t quite realized that it probably was odd that a King and a Prince were trying so hard to forcibly drag a couple of sailors to the land of the living with so much vigor. That was just how things were in Dremvothkrif; he hadn’t realized it was so odd.

Lucerys whipped the water running down his face, the sun beginning to warm the rocks below as the whole world seemed to calm. Seemed to take a breath, a moment of respite from the chaos of the storm.

“I’m not sure” Lucerys said honestly “we just wanted to.”

He watched as Dovahkiin turned on their side to lie on the wet stone, heaving, just before laughing and yelling something into the sky in a language Lucerys had never heard before.

He laughed regardless.  

Daemon and Rhaenyra, wet and damp with dirt clinging to fancy silken cloth – sat near them, looking on incredulously.

-

“How soon are they leaving?” Daemon hissed.

Viserys looked up to find both his brother soaked to the bone and his daughter nowhere in sight, giving leave for the King to stare daggers at his brother in question.

“Do you know what we saw when we got to the wall?” Daemon paced in front of his brother’s desk “that Prince Lucerys flying in on a feathered dragon with the King dangling off its foot.”

King Viserys frowned “what for? That dragon seemed perfectly fine flying with the two of them.”

“They were transporting some injured man” Daemon hair flew into his face as he gestured “and then proceeded to order the rest of us around like we were some sort of pack dogs and the worse part is I followed, Rhaenyra and I just fell in line like a couple of pups and I cannot figure out how.”

King Viserys expression morphed, as if the sheer idea that either Daemon or Rhaenyra would just allow themselves to be ordered around without fuss was the true horror in the entire situation.

“We can’t just send them away merely because their presence is…unsettling” King Viserys motioned towards the pile of books “they gave us anecdotal literature from Old Valyria, never mind the map and the armor. These records and books provide a clearer image of Old Valyria than we’ve ever hand in the past few centuries after Aegon the Conqueror – and this-“ he lifted up the dictionary “has been the key to understand all of it.”

Daemon sighed, dragging over a nearby chair and crashing into it. “…I don’t like it Viserys. They’re too…strange.”

King Viserys snorted “you sound like every other preacher of the seven Daemon, are you sure your coin isn’t teetering?”

At Daemon’s continued silence, King Viserys paused in his reading to really look at his brother. Watching the younger’s expression twitch every now and then, no doubt going through plan after plan after plan.

“What is this really about Daemon?” he asked softly. “I’ve spoken little with King Dovahkiin, they seem kind.” He kept an eye on his brother’s expression – tracking every twitch and minute shift of expression with an expert eye. It could have been a number of things, but as much as he wished it wasn’t the case, it has been a very long while since either of them had really sat down to talk much about anything these days.

Especially after Aemma passed.

“I don’t trust that power they wield, and I don’t trust they won’t use it to burn us to the ground.” Daemon’s fingers tended to twitch a little when he was restless, drumming against his thighs or against the arm of the chair if he wasn’t up and moving around. If Viserys remembered their childhood correctly, the number of tutors who failed to train the habit out of it couldn’t be counted on both hands.

“Have we given them reason to?” Viserys rose a brow.

“…no.”

“Do we plan on giving them a reason?”

“…no.”

Viserys nodded, leaning back into his chair. “I spoke with the maids in charge of seeing to their needs.”

“And?” Daemon snapped.

Ignoring this, Viserys continued “she said that Prince Lucerys requested a pitcher of wine and entered the room after King Dovahkiin. Inside there was no noise save for the sound of conversation, the context of which we have no idea of. She did hear, however, that they were worried for an oncoming storm.”

Daemon frowned.

“Then, two hours before sunrise, when the morning servants were beginning their duties. Both ran out of their rooms as if the Stranger himself was at their heels. Ser Westerling told me that Dovahkiin bellowed loud enough that he thought a dragon was attacking the keep. They jumped off the ledge and onto the dragon just as soon as she appeared” Viserys let that sit for a little while longer while he poured himself something to drink. “Their ways of dragon riding is mysterious Daemon, even Rhaenyra couldn’t make heads or tales of it. Only that King Dovahkiin and Prince Lucerys of Dremvothkrif spoke, and the dragon responded to it. Which means a quite a few things.”

Daemon inched closer, head tilted sideways in curiosity.

“They have an entirely different way of dragon riding, one that could not have come from Old Valyria – but they do hail from the Shadowlands” Viserys nodded to the hand drawn map encased in a frame of dragon glass, now hanging in his office. “My guess is that much of both their behaviors stem from the dangers living in such a place entails.”

“Which is..?” Daemon drawled.

“One simpler, but more brutal than ours brother. I do not think Dovahkiin was attempting to make their accolades impressive when they described Hydras, there wasn’t any attached story of some grand battle against one of the creatures. It was condensed, informative. As if I was simply being told how to get to an inn faster through a shortcut. It means that the Septum clan most likely rose to power from sheer strength and home advantage, rather than cunning. They are dragons that happen to be resting Daemon, give them no threat and they will have no reason to retaliate.” Viserys took a drink before setting it down, a smile faint on his lips. “It’s honestly rather refreshing not needing to worry about political interests or manners of the court. I can feel safe knowing that if my daughter ever were to find herself in trouble with them around, they’d sooner more likely rip heads off the one responsible than see how they will make themselves heroes in my eyes and the eyes of Rhaenyra.”

After another moment of silence, Viserys sighed and turned to stare at Daemon amidst his brother’s obsession with preparing for every little moment of potential betrayal. Not that he blamed him too much for it, after the announcement of Viserys’ ascension to King, his brother had grown twice as weary when the whispers began of Viserys being ill fit for the throne. Too soft, too cautious, not daring enough. A scholar rather than a warrior. Daemon apparently took it upon himself to be the extreme version of what everyone wanted if only to counter-balance his brother and make Viserys seem the obvious better choice.

It isn’t’ that Viserys was ungrateful for it, but he mourned the man Daemon could have been if he didn’t have to lean into his extremes.

“It isn’t wrong that you’re so weary Daemon, but I truly believe they don’t wish to pose any threat to us so long as we do not give them any reason to. If you so wish, spend time with Prince Lucerys if King Dovahkiin is too influential for your liking. I know Rhaenyra has a soft spot for the boy.”

“She what?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh stop embarrassing yourself, it’s unbecoming of you. When I asked of Prince Lucerys’ marital status, his King said in no uncertain terms that any offer of marriage to the Prince of Dremvothkrif will be declined or ignored and rudely rejected if I so much as breathed such a request. They said, and I am repeating in verbatim: ‘My brother is uninterested in such prospects’ and changed the subject. Not that you would have known considering how hard you were staring at Rhaenyra and the Prince as they talked.”

“What the- no marriage alliances? How the fuck do they maintain peace between families?”

King Viserys shrugged “When I tried to ask, all they said was ‘I tell them to cut it out, and if they don’t I drag the ones pushing the argument and throw them into the sea to cool off’.”

Daemon snickered despite himself, “if only it were so easy.”

“Yes well, I imagine there’s a very good reason they made Dovahkiin King in a land known to be the home of dragons and what other man-eating creatures also live there for a very good reason.” King Viserys frowned “I only worry that I don’t know the extent of that power. Is it magic? Is it simply strength? Resourcefulness? Perhaps all those things combined in certain combinations – I am unsure. And we won’t know unless they remain as guests for a while longer.”

Daemon groaned “so you want me to hang around the boy for information.”

“I am certain they’re more genuine than most of the people in this kingdom Daemon” Viserys deadpanned “but I like the fact that we know virtually nothing about them just as much as you do. I will pursue the thread with King Dovahkiin, can I trust you and Rhaenyra will figure something out with the Prince? And no, you cannot deliberately humiliate him or pick fights with him.”

Daemon sighed but nodded. “Fine. You really are lucky I love you, you know that?”

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s more of a curse than a boon” King Viserys muttered to himself.

Daemon scowled.

“Yes yes, love you too, now get your wet ass off my furniture.”

[Previous]                                                                                                       [Next]

[slipper007]

Cannot wait to move back to college

[medicinemane]

If only there were a cranberry bog near me, I could probably go there and be like "listen... I actively like spiders... you should hire me", and then maybe I could get a nice job with the benefit of working collaboratively with spiders if I understand things correctly

[beaversatemygrandma]

The weirdest damn response to my online job has been so far from my grandma. I told her I was doing chat AI training. (I feel like a traitor, I Know. But it pays decently and I GOT A REMOTE JOB.) And she was just "the government is going to be taken over by AI. Be careful in that job." And I was just so damn out of it because I had just been an hour and a half into mindless shit with the AI being rude to me that I just stared at her for a solid ten seconds before even saying anything. And it was only a long, quiet "no..." Idk if she took that as a surprised "No way" or a "no, grandma why"

It was a "No, grandma. why." My older family members need to get off facebook. It's not good for them.

[inkskinned]

it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)

i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.

i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.

i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.

in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.

i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.

i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.

my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.

i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.

i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.

it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.

almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.

i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.

i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.

write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.

[celestialprincesse]

Giggly, fluffy, post deployment sex w/ Simon 🥴🫶 I don't know what possessed me to write this, but it's here I guess

like baaaaarely nsfw but still, mdni💕

"S' - Got the - zoomies." You pant, giggling breathlessly as Simon stills from where he'd been plunging into you, a confused brow raised, prompting you to explain yourself as you lay laughing beneath his massive torso.

"The fuck is a zoomie? S'that like a drug or some shite? Are you on drugs?" Suddenly he's massively concerned, always so worried about everything that could possibly harm you in any way. It also doesn't help that his phone is some ancient brick that's survived countless falls, literal gunfights, and his day-to-day life, which is a miracle in itself.

The perplexed look on his face only serves to make you laugh further, gripping your stomach as you wheeze incoherently, babbling about how he's so old, and that the stone age called. Meanwhile, he gives you a little slap on the ass, just to attempt to regain the reins on the situation and save himself the embarrassment.

"Zoomies are like - like cats!" You heave, still clutching your stomach, unable to stop the way you howl with laughter at your normally stoic boyfriend, blushing like an idiot, burying his face against your clavicle.

"I don't - I'm not going to ask." He sighs in faux disappointment, unable to hide the way his heart warms at seeing your bright smile, hearing you laugh after having been away for so long.

"M'kay." You agree, laugh dying down slightly, leaving you with a tummy ache. "Sorry, carry on."

[lovelessbachelor]

Feeling like Black & White by Ghost RN (the vocaloid producer)

[ddejavvu]

Hi, i hope youre doing well ☺️

Could i request another part to animagus cat reader where reader cuddles with Remus during winter instead of Sirius because its cold and he runs warmer?? Like he'll be in the common room reading in an arm chair while reader catnaps on his lap while being pet and Sirius tells him to stop stealing his gf and James is jealous/whiny that he doesnt get to have cat snuggles.

part 1 / part 2

--

Despite the two blankets layered in an inviting nest on Sirius's lap, Remus is the warmest person in the room. The fire crackes on its logs, offering scorching heat, but what you seek is gentle warmth, and you've found it between Remus's sweater and his undershirt. You're splayed over his chest much like a baby would be, your paws stretched out against his shoulders and your head pressed face-first into his chest. His sweater is tight enough that it holds you in place, and you don't have to worry about falling. It means that you're able to fully relax, and Sirius can hear your rampant purring from where he sits on the couch with a sour scowl on his face.

"If you just wore warmer clothes, you wouldn't be pissy right now," Remus muses, not bothering to grace the man with a glance away from his novel, "She only likes me 'cause my sweater is warm."

That's not entirely true. While Remus does tend to dress for comfort, and Sirius for style, Remus runs naturally hotter than your boyfriend. You don't have the heart to tell him that, though, so you mewl in agreement to Remus's statement.

"Sweaters are dumb," Sirius spits, and no one bothers to mention that he has a small collection of them for the snowy days on the grounds, "I look better in leather."

"Your loss," Remus shrugs, and to add insult to injury, reaches up to scratch a spot behind your ears that only makes your purring louder.

"This is bullshit," Sirius finally huffs, breaking his facade of gloomy indifference, "Prongs, get over here."

James, all too eager to help out his friend and soak up affection to boot, has no problem tipping over sideways to lay in Sirius's lap.

But the man lifts James's head out of his lap by his curls, "No, no, no, not James. Prongs."

"You want me to-?" James asks, but doesn't dare finish, because the prospect of transforming right in the common room sends a shiver of mischief down his spine that he'd be a fool to question, "On it."

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah," Sirius nods, sneering haughtily at Remus, "You're not the only one that's good for a cuddle, Moony. Look at this," He gushes, as James begins his transformation, skin giving way to tight, short fur and enormous antlers that nearly grate against the stone walls around you.

"Oh, he's a perfect fit." Remus nods resignedly, content to continue rubbing at your ears rather than chastise his friends for trying to fit a stag on a loveseat, "Yeah, that'll work nicely- ooh, careful Sirius, almost got stabbed there."

Sirius dodges a prong off of James's antlers, taking them in his hands and holding James's head steady as the oversized buck folds his knobbly knees into Sirius's lap. The back two can't make it, but James fits them clumsily onto the cushion, maintaining his balance out of dramatic willpower rather than the laws of physics.

You decide once they settle that they're no longer in need of your attention, so you turn your head back towards Remus and burrow your face back into his warm chest. You feel it shake with mirth beneath you, presumably at an overdramatized reaction from the two boys opposite you, but you can't bring yourself to care; sleep is at the forefront of your brain in this form.

"Yeah, get real cozy!" Sirius insists, calling so that you can hear him through Remus's thick sweater and beneath the weight of his hand on your ears, "Whatever! We're cozy over here, too, 'never been more comfortable- ah! Prongs, watch the hooves!"

[zealouswitchwerewolf]

DP AU where the box ghost is actually someone from the future that came back as a ghost to try and warn Danny before all the major battles. The problem is that ghosts are mostly ruled by emotions and since he isn't directly connected to all the battles as they happened, his memories get fuzzy at best so whenever he warns Danny, it's either because there's about to be a world ending event or because someone's cat got stuck on a tree (and anything in between)

So when Danny joins the JL as Phantom they ask him about his rogue gallery. He tells them all about the ancients he fought and skulker and the GIW, even his parents, though he only says they were mad scientists with a huge bias.

And then, after he tells them about the "plasmius incident" they ask whether he thinks Vlad is the one that's caused him most trouble and Danny goes quiet for a bit and looks thoughtful for way too long before saying in a quiet voice "no, that's actually the box ghost. He's always warning me about something. It's terrifying"

The JL are concerned. What could be worse than all the Eldritch terrors Danny has described? They try to ask for details but whenever they bring the topic, Danny gets this lost stare and goes silent until they change the topic or snap him out of it. It's kind of unsettling. So they leave it be. Even Batman doesn't push it (he would rather not traumatize the kid more, thank you very much, he's also wondering if he can adopt someone that's technically dead, asking for a friend).

And then the box ghost shows up at the watchtower. They all come running when they hear the ominous "Beware". Batman activates all the alerts. Boxy just throws a box at him, then leaves. Batman calls for a meeting, most of the heroes were already in the watchtower anyway, he describes the incident to phantom.

Danny: ah, that was just his way of saying hi. I guess he wants to start haunting you too. Should be fun :)

Batman: hn

The JL: ?!?

Danny: Don't worry, I'll ask him to be nicer next time :)

Flash: was that... Supposed to be terrifying? He just threw a box, right?

Danny: 🤷🏻‍♀️

[cu7ie]

ა˚₊﹕take your time. ⊹

cw: virgin reader, gn!reader, don't even ask me what dimension this miguel is from. miguel being a good partner, unintentional teasing, reader is just shy! an: first miguel fic! woo!!! totally dedicated to @buttress atp

You still can't look at him.

-

You've been dating Miguel for months at this point. You're not moved in together (yet), but see each other as often as possible, spending nights in his apartment, folded under his arm and leg tucked between his.

He's very familiar with you, perhaps more so than you are him. Knows what you look like when you're positively elated, seen those so hard smiles that afterward you're complaining your cheeks hurt. 

He's seen utter devastation, too. You'd mourned the loss of your dear departed cat in his arms, sobbing and snotty and cloyingly tender. Must've cried all the water out of your body that day, soaked the whole front of his shirt (the one time he chose to wear white) before dying off into the most pitiful whine. You'd grown too small to support yourself.

So he helped.  Reassured you gently with the strokes of his hand along your back, getting you water, making sure you ate, spending the night at your house …

And you two have been dating for a while now. You've seen his highs and lows too.

Hardly this kind of low though. 

-

He's seen you naked before. Not enough for this lifetime, but definitely on more than one occasion. 

You're still so bashful.

When he joins you in the shower you can barely meet his eye, washing the front of his chest tentatively while he gently massages shampoo into your hair.

You get flustered when he catches you changing, covering your chest with your shorts and risking a friction burn with how fast you force your jeans past your thighs. 

Your affections usually stop at kissing. It's clear to him you're interested, but you always seem unsure to start. You're a little self conscious, nervous about the space between you two - and right when it starts feeling better than just good, you pull away. 

It's kind of like edging, bordering on torture, but Miguel knows how to be patient. 

Eventually, you come back to him.

-

Before he found himself two fingers deep in you, you had ask him to fuck you once before. 

Almost verbatim.

"Fuck me."

and, regardless of the fact that his cock jumps a little as you whisper it so close to his lips, 

It sounds so strange falling from your lips like that. Abrupt and sudden like a clap of thunder in the dead of night, and his eyebrows shoot up - as quick as residual lightning.

Maybe the look on his face was what faltered you. The way his pupils constrict then dilate like he's really looking at you, into your depth, and probing for your intention with a breathy, "You sure?" 

And you nod, a little slow.

"Y-yeah. Certain."  Miguel arches his brow skeptically, lips quirking into a half-smirk as he turns his body to face you, his head leaning to the side as he looks you up and down slow enough to make you second guess. "Of course, Cariño - as you wish." And admittedly he's a little cruel, enjoys the way you curl in on yourself, imagines the heat burrowing into the apples of your cheeks, watching your breath catch in your chest as you stare him down. The moment lingers.

"Show me then."  He props his arm onto the couch as his posture relaxes, his expression no greater than his polite smile, which still feels goading, in a way. "Show me how badly you want me to fuck you." 

He knows right away you got a little too facey. You're a shih tzu glaring down a rottweiler and you've forgotten how to bark. It always gets caught up in you, desire tangled up in a net of worry, doubt. Can see it in your eyes, the way your lip dips down before you tuck it beneath a tooth, the aura of your gaze becoming more shadowed, more sensual.

"I'll… I'll show you."

"Mhm. 'Course you will." 

Your finger hops up a little. You don't know where to put your hands so his thighs serve as a placeholder as you push yourself into his lap, the supple flesh of your lips meeting his, and,

 ooh, his chapstick is lemon flavored.

Your kiss is so dear to him. It's dainty, lightens his heart because you're too shy for tongue kisses at first. 

Or maybe you just don't know how. Still,

You slowly build yourself up to it that night.

Cautiously, your mouth parts a little more, ushered into a new sensation as your tongue maps out the roof of his mouth, the ridges of his teeth, slowly feeling him rise to the occasion, raising your chin and humming pleasantly into your mouth. Your eyes fluttered shut, your arms coming up to wrap around the back of a pleasantly surprised Miguel's neck, and he moves to settle you in his lap.

Miguel's skin feels smooth to the touch.

He’s moved you to the bedroom, urged you to wrap your legs around his hips as he took the liberty of digging his fingers into your soft ass, irritatingly thin shorts keeping him from getting to feel you for real. You're convincing him well enough so far, your skin rippling hot wrought iron left in the sun, and the burn on his skin is delicious - so when he's ready to eat,

When he's spreading you out on the bed and has your shorts around your thighs,

He notices you're not looking. Your breaths are shaky and fast, eyes welded shut, cheek turned and smushing into your pillow. You're still apart from the light tremble in your thighs, your legs dangling over the side of the bed as he adjusts his position on his knees, face partially curtained by your thighs as his arms curl up under them to tug your sex closer to his waiting lips.

"Ay." He gives your leg a healthy shake, jolting you out of your stupor. "Still want me to fuck you?" There's amusement bleeding into him again, but his eye is measured, patient. You blink an eye open, look down at him, his head between your legs,

The predatory, slow lick of his lips makes your hair stand on end, and you buck up, propping yourself up on shaky elbows. “Miguel…” 

“Hm?” He breathes so close to you that blood doesn’t know where to rush, to your head or between your legs. The dull throb of arousal that lances through you excites and terrifies, a nervous whine wheedling its way from between your lips, makes MIguel stop again. He feels your knees shake a little, still only one eye open. 

On the inside, budding frustration. There are two wolves - the desire to be cool, calm, and reassuring clashes with its twin, the overwhelming desire to have what he wants and do as he pleases. He sighs, and represses the second urge.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really.” You breathe in good for once, a relieved sigh as he pulls your underwear back up and pats your thigh, maintaining a pleasant expression while on the inside the mourns what should have been, imagines the feeling of you stretched around his cock - the tightness of your warmth, fucking in and out of you and hearing you squeal as he rolls his hips, adjusts his pace.

Tucks his fantasy away till it's only remnant is the hard-on he's trying to will away as you beckon him to join you under the sheets.

But he’s patient above all. Joins you on the bed and holds you close, burrowing his head into your shoulder as your wrap your arms around his back, 

And he leaves it alone.

-

'Could blue balls kill a man?'

He's not proud of his Google search history -

But it's been a couple weeks since he managed to get that far with you, and his hand hasn't been cutting it for a while now. And Miguel can sure as hell pretend he's not feeling as carnal as he is - that the chip on his shoulder is his increasing responsibility at Alchemax, the diminishing of his free time, lack of sleep …

But he feels no rage more potent than after he's came into his hand for the 5th time in two days, holding a shirt or a pair of your underwear up to his nose and huffing like it's paint. He's never been a junkie, but sometimes he's shaking he's so mad, that there's not more of you, enough of you, none of the soft, real parts of you.

And it's not your fault. You'll be ready when you're ready, and he just has to accept he might not make it to see that day.

But fast forward to right before bed that night. Yellow lampshade that turns the warm light dim, moonlight pressing through murky clouds and filtering into the window above the bed you two share. 

You still take showers together, but now you linger behind to wash properly while he settles into his normal routine, playing with his balls and turning his head into your pillow. 

He sighs to the sound of the creaking door, dripping water falling softly to the floor as you, towel wrapped around your naked body, step closer toward the bed.

You move from the front of the room, to the foot of the bed, til you're hovering over his side of the bed, this look in your eye like you've made up your mind about something. "What?" He flicks his head up, drowsy but not yet asleep.

"I think m'ready." Miguel blinks the tired out of his eyes and looks up, confused.

"What? Whaddaya mean you're ready?" 

"I mean," the towel falls, and he sees your bare body - your skin still dewy from your shower, glistening in the light. "I'm ready to fuck you. For real this time."

"Oh? So you're fucking me now?" He sizes you up a second, before you're crawling over him, straddling his hips as your bare intimates are flush against his groin, your butt pressing softly into his cock as he gets a half chub, not wanting to fully commit yet, but you're not letting up …

And that's how he got here. Two crooked fingers deep, up to the second knuckle, scissoring your hole open and hearing all these new noises - ones he's never had the chance to hear until now. You're accepting of his touch, but seem unwilling to fully express how bad he's got you - your wrist folded over your mouth, every moan sludging itself in your throat because you won't let it be free. You won't let him hear it.

Your back’s on the bed and he’s laying on his side next to you, over top of you, and he has the perfect view of your cute face and ditzy expression, your eyes pinched shut as you mutter something behind your hand, cut short as he curves his finger inside. “Miguel!”

“What is it querido? I’m a little busy here…”  Two fingers deep and you’re not as resistant as he’s expecting, so he feeds you a third promptly and it does not go unmissed how you clamp down on him tighter, your shuddering groan so lewd it almost beats the rational thought of preparing you out of his head. 

The only thing keeping him from mounting you then and there is your inexperience. Laid bare for him in this moment, he rubs his erection against your side brazenly, distinctly unashamed with letting you know how badly he wants you.

“Have you been touching yourself, carino? You’ve been preparing yourself for me?” You inhale shakily, and Miguel slows his pace so you don't have an excuse, any reason to not answer. You're so adorable when you're embarrassed. A little wetness in your eye, and usually you get all pouty like you might cry,

But he's doing something alien to you, pressing up into your sensitive walls, eliciting a brand new reaction he's sure he quite likes. 

You sniffle and answer slow. "A little… I was j-just practicing!" Your voice pitches up again, and instead of making his way further in, or adding a fourth finger, he stops. 

So abruptly you whine, arch your back in irritation and only then do you look at him, see the shadows that have settled over his face,

and isn't he feeling a might slick, having reduced you to jerking limbs and whimpering and moaning in what felt like a few minutes, though he doesn't have it in him to feel smug. 

Just hungry. 

"...Miguel." Barely a whisper. Only because it's you does he hear it. "Be gentle with me, please."

"Yeah." The single syllable is drawn out, curving into a growl, husky and deep unlike any noise a man ought to make.  "Right. Gentle."

[winterarmyy]

My Person

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: In which Sam's question forces Bucky to reveal his true feelings to his so called "friend", Y/N.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.2k++

Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, fluff, wee bit of angst, bucky is so adorable in this I WANT HIM SO BAD, also he is a bit feral. I feel like he can be more feral than this but you know, he doesn't wanna scare her away lol. This is just a result from surge of need so might not be too much of plot but I hope you enjoy your reading, anyway.

Inspiration: This post right here by @black-cat-2

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Sam took notice on every single crooks and corners as he followed Bucky's dragging footsteps from behind. It wasn't that he didn't want to help him but Bucky refused the offer right on the bat, saying that the serum will fix him up sooner or later.

The aftermath of their final battle with the flagsmasher was chaotic to say the least. With the splitting sides of public opinions of the new Captain America and the whispers about how the former winter soldier saved a bunch of civilian tonight had been the talk of the town.

But both Sam and Bucky decided not to think of it too much,  especially when both were exhausted from the fight. Not to mention Bucky was injured. Although Sam knew damn well that the soldier can managed himself to a hotel to rest for the night like he always does, but as a worried friend, or rather a babysitter some would say, he insisted to accompany Bucky all the way through.

And Bucky was not in the mood to argue; Sam is as equally stubborn as Steve used to be, so he let the man do whatever he wants.

It was clear Sam was suspicious of where the hell did this terminator brought him to, but mostly he was curious. He thought he would just accompany him to the nearest hotel but nope. After taking an Uber, the next thing he knew, Bucky was leading him into this apartment building, that was obviously not his.

"Last time I checked your apartment was in Brooklyn. When did you get a place here?" Sam asked as Bucky stopped at one of the identical looking doors.

"It's not mine" Bucky replied truthfully as he removed the glove from his fleshed hand and pressed his thumb at the top of the door handle.

Sam eyed him with a look on his face when he sassed at him, "Said the guy who is currently unlocking the doors with his fingerprint."

Bucky simply rolled his eyes before the chiming sound alerts that the door was unlocked. Bucky opened the door to let Sam inside before he himself got in after him. "Seriously, man. If I knew you can afford having two apartments I would've asked you to pay for tonight's dinner. That's the least you can do..." Sam's words died as his eyes scanned the apartment.

Whatever he was expecting the apartment to look like, it was far from it. He surely was not expecting the place to be fully decorated with complete set of furniture in every area of the room. Whether it is the living room area, or the huge kitchen that was also equipped with built-in oven.

Even with the lack of light, Sam could see the color pallette on the walls were definitely not what Bucky would go for. The sentimetal trinkets on the shelves, the sweet fragrant of the scented candles; everything was the very opposite of what Bucky's apartment in Brooklyn looks like, feels like.

This, it felt like home. Warm and inviting. Quiet and serene.

"You know what? I take that back. Whose house have you broke us into?" Sam asked, almost in awe rather than shocked, "I know for a fact that this ain't your house."

Bucky huffed a heavy breath as he remove his tactical gears, "I didn't say it was mine, remember? Or flying with the pigeons in the sky had made you forgot how to undertand human language?" there was an unfiltered sarcasm in his tone that didn't go unnoticed by Sam.

So obviously he got defensive and unknowingly increase his volume as he countered, "Woah woah, that was uncalled for. And for your information pigeons can't fly as fast a my wings, and rest assured that I--"

Bucky swiftly stomped towards him, eyes wide almost in anger, while his metal hand reached to cover Sam's mouth, "Can you shut the fuck up, she's probably asleep and your noisy ass will wake--"

"Bucky?" A tiny yet groggy voice interrupted the conversation causing both of them to turn their attention to the source. The figure peeped itself from the bedroom, her uncertainty made it that only half of her body was revealed through the doorway.

Her squinting eyes indicates how recent she was woken up from her sleep and Bucky flashed a quick glared at Sam for that. Sam simply shrug with his hands the air as a response. He was still confused who is this woman and why were they in her house.

Bucky's tight features softens as he called for her, "Hey, babydoll. What are you doing up?"

Recognizing that voice anywhere her feet made her way to him, "Heard some noises." She answered shortly as her knuckles find her eyes and rubbed it lightly. The closer she gets, the clearer Bucky can see the dark circles under her eyes, signifying how much she was lacking of sleep.

His heart squeeze a little at the sight, "M'sorry, sweetheart." it was as if their bodies were magnets that they naturally found each other. Bucky opened his arms wide for her to find her rightful place in his embrace.

"It's okay" she mumbled against his sturdy chest. "Welcome home." She continued.

You'd be surprise to know how much the former winter soldier absolutely adore the feeling of her lips moving against his skin. Even if it was blocked by the fabric of his shirt. It always felt good and he swore he could not get enough of it.

Bucky leaned down on top of her head, inhaling the strawberry yogurt scent of her shampooed hair, "Yes. I am home, indeed." His hugged got tighter, crushing her just enough to make those pretty little sounds slipped her from lips.

Strings of hushed moan kept purring in her throat when Bucky lightly swayed her from side to side; his fleshed hand drawing invisible circles on the back of her waist, while his metal hand gently squeeze the back of her neck.

If she let him pamper her more than this, they'd probably forget that Sam was in the room. Unabashedly had his mouth agape at the sight in front of him. He was not sure whether he wanted to look away or to continue staring because no amount of explanation will suffice to answer his questions.

Peeking from Bucky's shoulder, she smiled warmly as she finally acknowledge the unexpected guest, "You must be Sam. I've heard a lot about you."

She tried to wiggle an escape from Bucky arms, but it was no avail; he was not planning to let her go any time soon. She ended up dragging the enormous koala bear who was stuck on her back as she offered Sam a handshake, introducing herself.

"Good things I hope." Sam took her hand and lightly shake it as she replied, "Of course." As much as he wanted to keep his eye contact with her, it was extremely hard when the grumpy super soldier that he knew was basically melting in crook of her neck.

"I don't want to be rude but the two of you are..." Sam purposely left his words hanging, hoping that one of them would finish the sentence before he let out his assumption, however both of them remained silent. The woman was blinking at him confused, while Bucky was practically still drooling over the her.

"...Lovers?" Sam ended his sentence with an uncertain tone.

Both of them went rigid to the question but before Bucky could say anything, she answered first, "No!" She almost shouted, taking a deep breath before she rephrase her answer, "No. I mean yes. We're not... like that."

"So, you guys are friends then?" Sam quirked an eyebrow to her answer, and seeing Bucky's silence, he guessed that the super soldier might liked her more than just 'friends'.

"Yup, we are. We first met when Bucky was on the run from Hydra, before you guys found him. It's a long story, really." And by the time she explained the shorten version of their story, Bucky finally drifted his attention to Sam, a deep frown decorated his brows as he was mentally asking, "How much longer are you going to stand there? Get the fuck out."

Sam should be offended by his silent orders but considering he came in the middle of the night, uninvited, he realized that he should leave them be,"Then, let that be a reason for us to meet again. You can tell me all about this meet-cute of yours later. I don't want to keep you away from him any longer. Especially when he is staring daggers at me."

She lightly tapped on Bucky's arms, and quick frown at him followed after as she non-verbally asking him stop glaring at Sam. Needless to say, Sam removed himself from the scene after they, or rather she, bid him goodbye.

As soon as the doors closed, Bucky has her back pressed against the door, wasting no time than to capture her lips. A gasped from her made it easy for him to slip his tongue inside. He kissed her slow yet so hungrily as if he was starved of the taste of her sweet mouth against his.

Bucky broke the kiss momentarily just to whisper, "I missed you so much, babydoll." With his thigh in between her legs, he guided her clothed core to slowly hump against him. "Missed you, too." Her beautiful moans only encourage his cock to swell even more than it already was.

Breaking the kiss, Bucky let her catch a breath as his glazed eyes adored her soft features. He still remembered the day when he first met her.  When he escaped from Hydra's control, he was determined to keep his life down low. Don't attract to much attention, follow the schedule and stick to rules.

And his schedule was never interesting, it was always:

- write his journal entry

- find/do odd and non-permenant jobs for money

- grocery shopping and cooking

- watch the news

- and mostly just stay at home

Obviously, Bucky knows how to use the internet and all those modern devices that they have nowadays, but he never understand them; the 'social media' and the 'viral' things were never really appealing to him. So one day he decided to pay a visit to a small local library; hoping to find fimiliar solace in books instead.

What are the odds that both of them reach for the same book at the same time? After the multiple exchange of: 'Oh, I'm sorry, here take it.' 'No, you take.' 'No, please I insist.' They ended up meeting on a common ground; making a decision to sit down and read together. Turns out, spending a few hours with her at the library was the most peace he had since forever.

Bucky had a strict routine and rules. But the moment she asked him if he want to spend more time with her while she was there, he was ready to break all of it. And he did; for 7 days straight.

She was his first sense of freedom. His first choice in life.

Though, back then he was on a run, for presumably a lifetime, while she was on business trip for a week. So, they lost contact after that, especially when Bucky was running around with the Avengers and fighting aliens, but fate seemed to be on their side when they were reunited again in New York.

It's a miracle that she even recognized him. Little did he knew, he wasn't the only one who got hooked on the first few hours of that reading session had.

Though, he was extremely grateful that she reach out the moment she recognized him; no hesitant, no doubt. Just a confident and cheerful shout of his name in middle of the park that he walks through everyday.

The first thing that came out from her mouth after calling out his name was a compliment of his new hair cut and how she can see his beautiful eyes more clearer now. And that alone had made Bucky absolutely red in blush.

Weeks after that, she often joined him with his daily walk, making it their routine instead of just his. And months into this newly founded 'friendship', they found solace in each other's arms, comfort in each other's touch, and this quickly become their new favourite activity to do together.

Though none of them ever actually discuss their status but their body language suggest that they are more than just friends.

Especially with the way Bucky was rubbing the tip of his leaking cock on her clit; so desperate yet so gentle. Just like how he always does when he makes love to her. But, tonight he felt different. Maybe he was just needy or maybe it was the way she admit that they were not lovers when Sam asked about their relationship.

It was true. But, it felt so wrong.

"Am I just a friend to you, doll? Bucky leaned forward, his forehead met hers, his hot breath tickling her skin.

His tongue briefly passed in between his lips as he spreads her legs further, revealing her dripping cunt for his display, "Do your friends touch you like this, hmm?" His husky whisper as he rubbed his hardened length in between her slit, brushing against her clit.

"Do your friends kiss you all over like me?" She moaned breathily, as he bit and kiss the softness of her breasts; easily leaving his marks as if she was his to claim.

And without any warning, his cock slammed straight into her hole, stretching the walls to his size causing her to yelp in painful pleasure. Bucky let out a satisfied groan as the tightness of her around him, "Do your friends fuck this tight little pussy with their cock like me?"

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from pulling and pushing his hips to meet hers, his fingertips was practically digging into the flesh of her hips, moving her in time with his thrusts, "What am I to you, baby?" Honestly, it was hard for her to form complete thoughts, let alone reply to his question when he was fucking her so good.

Gone was the gentleman she knew for the past years, the koala bear that she spent hours on the couch cuddling to a movie marathon with. Now, there was only this feral beast, hungry for pleasure, insatiable to devour her whole body and soul.

Each roll of his hips pushed her further from her sober thoughts, focusing only on the wild look on his face, his huge body hunched over hers, his throbbing cock kissing her cervix. Any answer she was trying to convey was lost at the tip of her tongue; there were just the mewling mess, as she fell apart underneath him, compliant to his every thrust as his cock ramming within her. "Tell me. Come on, now. Use your words."

Bucky was almost losing his mind, from how bad he wanted to cum and how stubborn she was for not answering his questions. He pushed her legs up and wide as his thrust punctuated to his words,  "What. Am. I. To. You?"

It took her a couple of long moans at his roughness, before she could utter a single word, the only correct answer to his question, "Mine."

He groaned approvingly, pulling back just enough to slide his metal between their bodies. "I'm yours?" Those hard, cold fingers that she loved so much was quick to find her clit. She was already sensitive from all the friction of his rutting, and now was he relentlessly assaulting the swollen nub, "Then, does that make you mine as well huh, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Bucky. You're mine. And I'm yours. All yours. Pleasee"

Her back arches off the bed, toes curling tight as her nails dug into his skin and across his back; To have some kind of a leverage to hold as the overwhelming pleasure surged through her body.

"Yeah, that's right, babygirl. You're mine and mine alone. Mine to love, mine to fuck. Yes?" Bucky taunted her with both his words and the way he rutted into her wet pussy, as if he himself was not close to the egde.

The sound of skin to skin clashing intertwined with the sounds of her pussy squelching around his cock, his girth kept pounding straight into her sweet spot to the point that only lewd whimpers of plead were spewing out of her lips, "Yes, yes yes. Oh Bucky please,, fuck,, I'm cumming!"

"Cum, sweetheart. Let me feel that tight little pussy of mine cum around my cock" He hummed approvingly as he picked a deeper and harsher pace, causing her mouth to fall wide open and her eyes screwed shut as she felt her whole body shook as she came. "Yeah,, that's it, doll. That's my girl. fuckkk,, feels so good baby, gonna make me cum inside you if you keep choking me like that."

"Please, Bucky?" A breathy moan of his name passed her lips as she her walls spasm with need. Bucky groan to the sensation, he was sure that her pussy was already full of his precum, considering how it has been leaking inside her for so long, "Want my cum in you, pretty girl?"

Batting her eyes through her lashes, she stared up at him, pleading., "Need it, please."

"Oh fuck, you got it, sweetheart." Throwing his head back in pleasure, shutting his eyes solely to focus of the feeling of her wet and tight cunt, Bucky's pace quicken as he chased his high, "Hmmm,, fuckk,, gonna stuff you full. You'll leaking for days, babydoll. Then, I'm gonna keep filling you until you can't live without my cum inside your pussy."

Hearing such dirty confessiom only triggers her to near orgasm, "Yess pleasee i want it. Need it, bucky." Surely enough she came again when he hit that special spot inside her.

"Ahh,, fuck ahhh,, I'm cumming shit pussy so good m'cumming fuckkkk", Bucky couldn’t even stop himself from rutting in and out of her sweet pussy as his cock pulsed, especially when her cunt was sucking him in deeper.

His head fall down to watch his cock disappear inside her before squeezing it shut again when the white spurt of cum shoots against her walls. His jaw was loose as his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape to allow his loud groans contaminated the silenced room.

His thick endless cum warm her insides and the honeyed moans hanging off her lips to its own accord as Bucky hunched over her frame, pressing his face in crook of her neck, breathing heavily as she was. After awhile, a broken sound of his voice stopped the silence, "Do you really mean it?"

He refused to look at her in the eyes, afraid of the rejection that might come his way but she proved him wrong by holding him by his cheeks, leading his eyes to align with hers,

"Bucky. You, my dear, are my bestfriend; you are my heart, you are my person. And there is no one in this world that I'd rather spend my whole life with besides you." Her words was nothing but the truth and Bucky knew that.

His heart swelled with joy yet he didn't know how to express it other than, "I love you, doll..." there was pause as if he was gathering the pieces of his soul to offer it to her, "...So much."

And she accepted it with her whole heart, "I love you too, Bucky."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I was gone for awhile but never too long. Hope you enjoy this little drabble 👀

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 29

Dont get him wrong, Danny had some big feelings about finding out his mom had cheated on his dad. He had even bigger feeling about the divorce and the whole shipping him off to live with his bio dad.

He wasn't going to lie. The new school was actually really nice and he had made friends quickly, though at first it was tough to weed out the ones who just wanted to get close to the Wayne family name and not him as a person. He didn't get to chat with Tucker and Sam a whole lot due to thier schedules but he and Jazz always made time for eachother.

His life had surprisingly taken a massive upturn. Vlad had been arrested soon after Danny warned the Waynes about him, making Danny believe either his dad it felt wierd calling him that but da-Jack made it perfectly clear he should never call him that was Batmans sugar daddy or somthing or maybe the Waynes got kidnapped so much that the bats bugged the whole place. Danny hoped not, he had done a whole karaoke thing with Jazz during thier video call the other night and he really didn't want anyone to hear thier shared cat screeching.

Jazz was super happy to learn Danny had joined the Volleyball team and Astronomy club. He used to play Volleyball in middle school and played defense a lot. He was even the best on the team but he stopped playing after one too many times of his parents forgetting to show up or causing a ruckus whenever they thought a ghost was nearby.

But it was better now

The portals were shut down by the bats. The GIW where expertly obliterated from existence. His parents are getting court mandated mental help. There are no more ghosts. No more ghost hunters.

And no need for Phantom

Danny doesn't think he's ever felt this free. He could go out to eat with friends with his way too big allowance that his...dad gives him and he didn't have to worry about having to ditch them to go fight a bad guy. He could eat dinner with a family who was a little awkward but surprisingly open to him and the food was delicious and didn't attack him. He could actually sleep at night and feel safe doing it. His siblings liked spending time with him and getting to learn anout him and thier "bonus sister" Jazz.

He had no reason to use his powers.

Until the grandfather clock he was walking past swung open like a door and he locked eyes with Nightwing coming out of it. They just stared at eachother before Danny just said, "I don't want to know which one your dating. Just know I have a bat and im willing to use it in the most ungodly of ways." And walked back to his room.

He wouldn't be a superhero, but he was willing to be a supervillian to protect his new family. Or in this case make sure Nightwing, a rumored playboy, knew better than to go breaking hearts in this household.