#hot fanfic

[vibestillax]

ECSTASY

Mafia!Colby Brock x Gn!Reader

A/n:the latest poll it was with this fanfic,here ya go mates

Summary: colby sees you at a club,what will he do?…

LISTEN TO THIS WHILE READING!

You stood in the back of the club, watching as Colby and his men worked the room. Everyone knew not to mess with him.. – he was the most powerful mafia boss in the city. And Colby, he was the leader…

As his eyes scanned the crowd, they landed on you and a sly smile spread across his face. He made his way over to you, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

'Hey, sweetheart,' he said, his voice low and dangerous. 'What's a pretty little thing like you doing all alone?'

You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement at his words. He was everything you were warned to stay away from, but you couldn't resist him. 'Just enjoying the show,' you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. 'Well, how about you come with me and I'll show you an even better one?' he offered, holding out his hand.

Without hesitation, you took his hand and let him lead you through the crowd. As you walked, his touch sent electricity through your body, and you knew this was the beginning of something dangerous.

Colby led you to a private room, his men keeping watch outside. Inside, the atmosphere was charged with desire. He slammed you against the wall, his lips attacking yours hungrily. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands exploring his body.

In between kisses, he whispered his desires to you, his words both intimidating and enticing. You couldn't resist him – he was like a drug, and you were quickly becoming addicted.

As he pushed you down onto the couch, he took control, both of your bodies and your mind. You surrendered to him, giving into the ecstasy that he promised. Every touch, every kiss, every word from his lips sent you into a frenzy.

You didn't care about the danger, the consequences, or the fact that you were falling for someone so wrong. All you wanted was to be his – his sweetheart, his everything. And as he claimed you in the most primal way, you knew you would do anything for him.

When it was over, you lay there, breathing heavily, bodies entwined. As you looked up at him, you saw something in his eyes that scared you – he had a hold on you that you couldn't escape.

But you didn't want to escape. You wanted to stay in this moment, with him, forever. You were willing to be his puppet, his toy, his everything. And as he leaned down and kissed your forehead, you couldn't help but whisper those three dangerous (?) words I love you

He smiled down at you, a hint of darkness in his gaze. 'Finally I caught my sweetheart,' he said, his voice a mixture of satisfaction and possessiveness. 'You're mine now.'

And you knew that no matter what happened, no matter how dangerous and crazy this love was, you were going to stay by his side. You were meant to be his sweetheart, his everything, to infinity.

[lynnmatthewswrites]

The New Girl at Hogwarts: Chapter One- The Move

Authors Note: Hiya! I started writing this because I couldn’t see myself in so many fanfiction protagonists! I love the Harry Potter series and really relate to Hermione and Luna, who were so proudly not submitting to stupid things like pink and girly stuff! This fic is a love letter to the quirky girls and the girls who love Hogwarts! I also thought id include a gay character for gay rights! Sorry if there r any typos I tried my best.(LMK if you want a Y/N ver)

Sarah Lynn Clampitt wasn’t like a lot of girls she knew. Sarah Lynn didn’t like Taylor Swift or Lana Del Rey. Her favorite band was Panic! at The Disco, or maybe Paramore, though they were so underground most of her friends had never heard of them. Sarah Lynn didn’t care about short skirts and being girly, and much preferred hanging with the boys and getting dirty over lip gloss and glitter. She was also a witch, and went to Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Of course, that was until her rich father died tragically, and she had to move in with her mom’s sister in England. (her mom died when she was a baby in a tragic accident and it was really sad)

Sarah Lynn would miss Ilvermony, even though she was sort of unpopular- all the other girls liked Taylor Swift and the Eras Tour and the Barbie movie, while Sarah Lynn hung out with boys- and the boys liked her, but still! Sarah Lynn sighed, looked out of the airplane window, and shed a single tear, missing her dad and her friends from New York. But they didn’t matter anymore. She was going to Hogwarts, and things were gonna be different! She put in her wired earbuds (airpods are stupid) and started playing one of her favorite songs- “House of Memories” by Panic! at the Disco. (AN: most people have never heard of this song but def check it out! it’s super good) She really liked P!ATD, even though Brandon Urine had collabed with stupid taylor swift. 

Sarah Lynn realized she had fallen asleep on the plane, and they were now landing in London. She pulled her golden blonde hair into a messy bun and pulled down her baggy t-shirt and walked off the plane with her backpack. Her aunt had texted her that she would pick her up at the airport, but Sarah Lynn had just now realized her aunt’s appearance was a total mystery to her. She walked off the plane and into the airport, where she began to read the names on signs- John, Craig, Angie, Bob, Robert, Bobby, Bob, until she saw a sign that made her freeze. It was a pink, glittery sign, with hello kitty and my little ponies on it. Even more terrifying was what it read. Sarah Lynn. THIS was her aunt? Sarah Lynn looked up to see a bleach blonde, lip-gloss wearing, stanley-cup-having woman. “Hi sweetie! I’m your aunt Jessica!” Sarah Lynn was terrified. Who was this woman? How was she even related to Sarah Lynn’s beautiful mother(who died when she was a baby)

“Hi Aunt Jessica?” Sarah Lynn grimaced. 

“C’mon sweetie! Let’s get to Kings Cross!”

So the pair climbed in to Aunt Jessica’s cramped and cluttered mini, which Aunt Jessica wasn’t an adept driver of, and drove to King’s Cross, where Sarah Lynn climbed out of the car, thanked Aunt Jessica, and walked off to platform 9 and ¾. When Lynn got on the train an old man with black hair stopped her. 

“Are you Sarah Lynn Clampitt?” he asked. 

“Yes” I said.

“Well, you’re new, so you have to go to the transfer student cabin!” he yelled, pulling Sarah Lynn by her arm to the back of the train into a cell-like chamber filled with moldy bread. 

“No! Help!” Sarah Lynn screamed, banging on the door, but to no avail. Eventually she fell asleep in the cold cell, and when she woke up… she was at Hogwarts!

She was ushered inside, where she was led up to the sorting ceremony with the first years. Wow she thought. Cool. When she was pushed up onto the stage, everyone looked at her confused- she was fifteen, not eleven! Sarah Lynn blushed, before going “Erm- awko taco!” and then everyone laughed and clapped. Dumbedore put the hat on Sarah Lynn’s hat and it didnt even hesitate, just yelled GRIFFYNDOR!! so Sarah Lynn went to sit at the Gryffindor table. 

She sat next to a girl with curly hair, a ginger boy, and a boy with glasses. “Hi! I’m Sarah Lynn Clampitt. Can I sit here?”

“Of course!” The curly haired girl said. “My name is Hermione Grager, and these are Ron Weasley and Harry Potter.”

“Nice to meet you” Harry said “Where are you from?”

“Im from Ilvermony in New York. But then my dad died, and my mom died when I was a baby.”

“Im so sorry” Ron said. 

“It's ok. I’m just happy to be here!” Sarah responded

“You seem really cool for a girl. Girls are so much drama.” Hemione vocated.

“Oh my god you too! I hate Taylor Swift.”

“I hate her too. I hate her I hate her I hate her. What type of music do you like?” 

“I love Panic! at the Disco and Paramore- you’ve probably never heard of them.”

“I’ve never heard of them ever!” Ron said gingerly

“They’re super good. I love Brandon Urine, even though he made a song with stupid taylor.”

The group all ewwed in unison. Just then a boy in a Charli XCX shirt sat down by Harry. Harry exclaimed “Hi Neville!”

“Hey ddady!” Neville remarked svltrily. “Snatch my wig and i oop lets roide lavender lamborgini roll up in a blue bikini- whos the new girl??”

“That’s Lynn. She’s cool.” Harry dictated. “She’s from America.”

“Oh America the land of Beyonce werk slay queen girlboss!!” Neville announced. “That’s so mother of you.”

“I hate Beyonce. She’s basic.” Sarah Lynn remarked. “You seem cool though.”

“Oh Em Gee, how can you sin upon mother girlboss? That’s so not cool I T G I R L U know I am that girl of you!” Neville sobbed.

“He’s a little sensitive.” Hermoine remarked as Neville ran of sobbing. “But he’s cool sometimes.”

“Huh.” Sarah intoned, before Dumbledore started talking. “Welcome students? My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the headmaster of this school. This year, we’ve welcomed dementors and also fortune-telling because Voldemort is on the rise. Anyway, enjoy the feast!” dumbledore exclaimed as delicious food appeared before everyone- it looked like everyone got to eat their favorite food! Sarah gasped as chicken nuggets magically appeared before her. Sarah Lynn loved chicken nuggets.

“Oh my god I love chicken nuggets. Oh my god.” Sarah Lynn cried.

“Me too girl!” Hermine attributed.

“I’d be late to my wedding and just run in like SORRY I WAS GETTING CHICKIE NUGGIES!” Sarah quipped.

Sarah Lynn and Herione cheersed each other with their chicken nuggets, looking out on the other girls eating their salads and protein shakes, rolling their eyes. Stupid iceberg lettuce and croutons. Sarah Lynn felt very happy, like she’d finally found her place. A girl who was also not like other girls. Two new boys she could be one of. She was excited to learn the in and out of Hogwarts- and then she saw him. 

[captainswanapproved]

An Indecent Proposal- Chapter 10

A03,Prologue, Chapter 1,Chapter 2,Chapter 3, Chapter 4,Chapter 5,Chapter 6,Interlude,Chapter 7,Chapter 8, Chapter 9

Daemon x Rhaenyra Multichapter AU:

Daemon leaves Rhaenyra at her wedding feast. Rhaenyra marries Laenor. After a year of trying to do their duty and produce an heir, Rhaenyra writes to Daemon.

She needs a true Targaryen heir.

It only needs to be an arrangement of business, she says. And it would result in Daemon’s child one day taking the Iron Throne.

Daemon accepts the proposal and returns to court.

Only, ventures like these are never simple. As much as they would wish to, Daemon and Rhaenyra cannot let go of the past, or the feelings they once had for each other.

“The Hand would like to see you, Your Grace,” Ser Harrold Westerling said.

Viserys nodded. He was currently fine tuning his model of old Valyria, but he always made time to speak with his Hand. Viserys gestured for his new cup bearer to pour the wine. He was a young boy from Dragonstone.  “He may enter.”

The boy brought poured two cups of a fine Dornish Red.

Otto Hightower entered looking livid.

“What is the matter, Otto?”

“Prince Daemon has been disparaging the Queen and your children in King’s Landing. He was heard giving a toast to countless whores and lickspittles, proclaiming Princess Rhaenyra’s children as true Targaryens, and calling your children ‘filthy half-breeds’. This cannot stand. He must be punished.”

“Did you hear the toast yourself,” Viserys asked.

“I did not, Your Grace. It was reported to me by the White Worm.”

Viserys was aware of this informant, but he was also aware that Lady Misery, as the White Worm was also called, was an old paramour of his brother’s. He could easily see the woman wishing to discredit Daemon.

Daemon had matured since his return to court. He was no longer the man who had delivered the infamous Heir for a Day insult. Nor was he the cad who had tried to seduce Rhaenyra. Now Daemon was her staunchest supporter. He had shown his responsibility in his position on the small council. Viserys would not entertain hearsay about his brother, even when reported by his loyal Hand.

“Mysaria has no love for Prince Daemon,” Viserys said. “Should I hear my brother disparaging my queen and children with my own ears, I shall reprimand him.”

“You cannot be serious, Your Grace. There are whispers that your children are illegitimate because of their lack of dragons. This treasonous gossip is encouraged by Prince Daemon. It is disgraceful.”

“There are more rumors than truths swirling in King’s Landing, but Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond are my children. That is what matters. And, if the small folk speculate on their legitimacy, what does it matter? They are not in line to inherit the throne. They will be princes and princess of the realm, make fine marriages, and live in comfort for all of their days.”

Otto scowled. “Aegon should be your heir, Your Grace. It is tradition. The Lords of Westeros will not support a woman taking the Iron Throne.”

“Careful, Otto. I have heard all you have to say on this matter many times before. I grow weary of this argument. Rhaenyra is my heir. And now she has an heir of her own.”

“And what of the legitimacy of her heirs. Do you not find it odd that Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor were unable to conceive for their first year of marriage, and yet, shortly after Prince Daemon arrived at court, Princess Rhaenyra became pregnant.”

“A mere coincidence. And there are many couples that do not conceive within their first year of marriage. Aemma and I did not.”

“Your Grace, we all have heard the rumors of Ser Laenor’s preferences. That, coupled with the fact that Prince Daemon once seduced the princess in an effort to seize the throne, makes for very suspicious circumstances. Who is to say that the Princess has not been seduced again, that those twins belong not to Ser Laenor, but to Prince Daemon?”

Viserys narrowed his eyes. “You care treading very close to speaking treason, Otto. I will not tolerate accusations against my daughter. Princess Alyssa and Prince Jacaerys bear a strong resemblance to Ser Laenor. Prince Daemon has changed his ways. He has proven his loyalty to the Crown. I believe you are allowing an old rivalry to cloud your judgement.”

“And you are allowing your love for your family to cloud yours,” Otto spat.

“I have warned you twice today, Otto. Speak against my Rhaenyra or Daemon again without just cause and I will remove your pin.”

Otto Hightower was many things, but a complete fool he was not. He bowed and departed, slamming the door as le left the chamber.

The wine his cupbearer had poured was still untouched, but now Viserys had the urge to drink both goblets. He dismissed the boy and took to his bed with the wine.

***

His name was Aemon. Daemon was certain that the boy from Dragonstone had Targaryen blood. It was why Daemon had brought him to court and installed him as Viserys’s cupbearer after receiving information from Maester Gerardys. They boy had been grateful, had promised to do anything for him in return. So Daemon chose to use him as a spy.

He was not spying on his brother, per se. It was more that he was spying on those who sought audiences with the king, which often included people who could be conspiring against Rhaenyra.

Daemon was reading a torturous set of outdated laws when the boy appeared. Daemon had taught his spies the various secret passageways through the red keep. They were much like little birds, flitting through the castle and singing songs of secrets.

“My Prince, the Hand just had an audience with the king.”

Daemon set down the scroll, giving the boy his full attention. “And what was the topic of this discussion?”

“Well. . .”

Daemon would have snapped at anyone else, but this boy was so small, and his silver hair was similar to Viserys’s, and the eyes, they closely resembled Rhaenyra’s. Daemon dug in his pockets and produced a wrapped sweet that he knew the boy favored.

The boy took the sweet and swallowed it greedily. Then he said, “Forgive me, my Prince, but it concerned you and the Princess.”

Aemon related the particulars of all he had heard.

Daemon was not surprised that Mysaria was reporting to Otto Hightower. He would be sure to offer her a higher price, and if he could not, he would silence her forever.

He was, however, surprised to hear that Viserys had defended him. After years of distance, the breach between brothers was closing. Daemon had always defended Viserys to those who might speak against him, but the king had not repaid that fraternal courtesy. Until now, apparently.

“The Hand may be a threat to the twins, My Prince, if he thinks they are illegitimate.”

“He is a snake. Tell me, Aemon, do you know how to kill a snake?”

The boy thought for a moment before saying, “You cut its head off?”

Daemon grinned and gave the boy another sweet. “Yes. Unfortunately, in the case of Otto Hightower, we cannot be quite so literal, yet. But there may be something else we can do.”

Daemon quickly composed a letter, mimicking the style of Mysaria, which he had seen often. He sealed the letter only to break the seal a moment later. Then he handed it to the boy. “Leave this somewhere for the king to find, and you will have more sweets.”

“Yes, my Prince, right away!” The boy scurried off and Daemon, his chest swelling with pride at his own brilliance, took caution to the wind and decided to call on Rhaenyra in the middle of the day. It would be some weeks before her could make love to her again, but at the very least, he could kiss her until she was trembling with want in his arms.

***

Alyssa fussed as Rhaenyra wrapped her in a blanket, but as soon as the babe was in her arms again she fell silent. Rhaenyra kissed Alyssa’s downy hair. Little Jace, as she had decided to call him, was already sleeping soundly. Neither babe was disturbed when the tapestry rustled and Daemon appeared.

Rhaenyra was surprised to see him, but it did not follow that the surprise was unwelcome. He had taken to sharing her bed with her in the nights since she had given birth. They did nothing more than kiss and hold each other, as she still had weeks of recovery before they could resume their bedroom endeavors.

It was the crumbling of this final barrier that gave her peace of mind. It was true that they could not marry, but gone was the notion that their relationship was merely a political arrangement. He was her other half, her twin flame. And she loved him more now than she ever had as a younger girl.

Rhaenyra set Alyssa down beside her scarlet egg. It was beginning to crack, as was Jace’s. There was no telling when they would hatch, but it was an auspicious sign.

“What is the matter?” Rhaenyra asked. It was unusual for him to come to her during the day.

Daemon simply took her in his arms and kissed her soundly. She uttered a stifled moan and leaned into him.

After several blissful moments, Daemon said, “The Hand has been careless today. I intend to use it against him.”

Rhaenyra asked him to elaborate. Daemon led her to the settee and pulled her into his lap. One hand buried itself in her curls and he explained what he had learned from his spy, and the steps he had taken against Otto.

When he finished, Rhaenyra kissed him, long, and hard, and deep until she was splayed on top of him, his hard length pressing against her inner thigh. How she wished she could have him now.

Daemon looked at her, his eyes sparkling. “If that is how you respond to my political scheming, I shall do it far more often, Princess.”

Rhaenyra swatted him playfully. “You are brilliant,” Rhaenyra said, kissing him again. “My father is sure to dismiss him.”

“Inspired by the whispers brought to me by my spies. Mysaria is not the only one who trades in secrets.” Daemon said.

“And what will you do to Mysaria?” Rhaenyra asked. She was not threatened by the whore, not really, but they did not need someone reporting Daemon’s interactions with the smallfolk to the Greens.

“Bribery or murder seems like the best choice,” Daemon said.

Rhaenyra knew she ought not to encourage such vices, but she loved how Daemon was willing to do anything in his defense of her and their children. “I would rather be rid of her,” Rhaenyra said.

Daemon nipped at her bottom lip. “If that is your wish, it will be done,” Daemon said. “We will install someone loyal to us in her place.”

***

After dinner, Viserys returned to his chambers. He had not visited his wife today. She had been ill most of the day, but the maesters had assured him of the babe’s good health. Alicent was strong. Viserys knew she would give him another healthy son or daughter. In truth, he hoped for a daughter. He loved his sons, but he did not think they would make honorable men. They were spoiled and foul while little Helaena was almost as sweet as Rhaenyra has been as a girl.

Something peculiar caught his eye, a folded piece of parchment peeking out from a small table.

The seal was broken, and the letter was addressed to Otto Hightower.

My Lord Hand,

You asked me once if I have been sharing the Prince’s bed. In truth, I have not. He has taken a different lover, one with silver hair and a royal title. I always knew he would try to seduce the Princess Rhaenyra again.

I cannot speak to the parentage of the twins, but I heard from the Prince’s own lips that Ser Laenor’s interests were not in his marriage bed.

Would you have me dispose of the twins? Bastards or not, they are a threat to your daughter and grandchildren.  One of my girls could do it. Tears of Lys will leave no trace, and she still has the bottle you bade us to use on the Princess.

I will await your answer.

The White Worm

Viserys threw the treasonous letter on the table. He would not believe the slander against his brother and daughter, but this letter put into sharp relief the true nature of his loyal hand. Viserys called for Ser Harrold

The knight appeared alarmed. “Bring me Otto Hightower. Immediately.”

Ser Harrold returned with Otto nearly a half an hour later.

“Apologies for the delay, Your Grace, the Lord Hand was indisposed. I sent the girl back to Lady Misery.”

“This is the girl to whom you gave the Tears of Lys?” Viserys raged.

Otto did not even have the sense to look ashamed. “I do not have the pleasure of understanding you, Your Grace.”

“Perhaps this will refresh your memory then,” Viserys said, forcing the letter into Otto’s hands.

Otto Hightower’s brow furrowed as he read the letter and then, for the briefest moment, Viserys thought he saw a trace of fear. His faithful hand, however, tore the letter down the middle. “This letter is meant to deceive you, Your Grace. I would never threaten the life of your heir.”

“Would you not?” Viserys asked, his voice cold. “Today you questioned my daughter’s honor and the legitimacy of her children. You have a close working relationship with your White Worm. And, ever since Aegon was born, you have tried to convince me to name him heir in Rhaenyra’s place. I cannot believe I have been so blind. Ser Harrold, remove his pin.”

Ser Harrold obeyed and removed the badge of the Hand of the King.

“Your ambitions have corrupted your service. I can no longer trust you. You will return to Oldtown on the morrow. And if you ever return, you will lose your head.”

“What of my daughter?” Otto asked, his voice low.

“I must believe her to be innocent of this.”

“And who do you expect can take my place? If you appoint Prince Daemon to be your Hand, the realm will fall to ruin.”

“The Small Council is no longer any of your concern. And my brother has proven himself to be the more honorable and loyal man. Say another word against him, and I will have your tongue. Get out of my sight.”

Ser Harrold seized Otto’s arm and forced him from the room.

Then he made his way to Daemon’s chambers. It was early yet. Daemon would not be abed.

***

Daemon stepped out of the copper tub and dressed quickly after a maid informed him that the king awaited him in his solar.

Daemon could not imagine what his brother wanted. Viserys was not known for swift action. Daemon expected the seeds he had sown with his forged letter would not yield harvest for another few days at least.

Life, however, was full of surprises.

When Daemon entered his solar, he found his brother standing before the fire, his hand in the flames. “I have been a fool,” he said without preamble. “For years I put my faith in someone who was not a true dragon. My family has suffered for this mistake. Aemma, Rhaenyra, and most of all, you, my little brother, have suffered because of my folly.”

“What are you talking about?” Daemon asked, even though he might be able to guess.

“Otto Hightower is no longer the Hand of the King.” Viserys showed him the letter and Daemon read it, feigning surprise.

Viserys closed the distance between them. “He is a threat to Rhaenyra. He will return to Oldtown tomorrow and I find myself in need of a new Hand. Will you take the badge, Brother? I should have given it to you years ago.”

“I will, Viserys. The blood of the dragon runs thick. What of the queen? Will she be returning with her father?”

“No. Alicent is innocent in all of this, I am sure of it. She has my loyalty and I will not set her aside for the sins of her father. But Otto Hightower no longer has a place in King’s Landing.”

“You should remove his head,” Daemon said.

“I am not a tyrant, Daemon. He will return to Oldtown in disgrace. If there is further treachery discovered, then I will put him to the sword.”

Viserys was weak, but Daemon had not expected the letter to lead to Otto Hightower’s execution. Having him sent back to Oldtown was more than Daemon had expected. It would be enough for now.

Viserys took his silence for approval and placed the pin through Daemon’s doublet. “Together we will ensure that Rhaenyra inherits a thriving realm. I know I can trust you in this office. You have proven your loyalty to our family a hundred times over. I am sorry I failed to see it sooner.”

“It is never too late, Brother,” Daemon said. He could not forgive Viserys for everything, but no matter what, he loved his elder brother, and would proudly die for him.

Then Viserys embraced him, and Daemon was overwhelmed by a strong feeling of belonging that had been absent since his brother had taken the throne.

***

Otto Hightower stormed into his daughter’s chambers. His temper was only further stoked by the fact that Ser Criston Cole was sitting in his daughter’s bed in only his shirtsleeves.

“Get dressed and get out,” Otto demanded.

Ser Criston did as he was told.

“Are you mad, Alicent? You are carrying your fourth child. You are the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and you are dallying with a disgraced Kingsguard.”

“What does it matter to you who shares my bed? I have given the king three children, just as you demanded all those years ago.”

“And if you have a bastard who bears no resemblance to the king, you will taint the rest of your children. Do not tell me that the child you carry belongs to Cole.”

“It does,” Alicent said. “But we have devised a plan. If Rhaenyra can be so brazen without consequence, then so can I.”

“A plan? Have you lost your senses? I will no longer be here to protect you.”

“What do you mean?” Alicent asked.

“We have been thwarted by that whoreson Daemon Targaryen. He must have his own spies. And my White Worm is a traitorous cunt.” Otto sat at the foot of his daughter’s bed and explained the situation. He was gratified at Alicent’s look of horror.

“Father, I cannot outmaneuver the Blacks without you. I am not clever or cunning enough.”

“You will have to be, otherwise your life and those of your children will be forfeit. We play and ugly game. And you must prove that you are capable of playing. Bed your knight if you must. You will need every capable sword you can muster. But take your moon tea after you have delivered your child. Viserys is blind to the truth. If you can convince him the child is his, he will not suspect your infidelity.”

“I will make you proud, Father. I swear it,” Alicent declared, though not looking utterly convinced.

But it was too late. Otto would be bound for Oldtown by morning.

But first he would give orders for a certain White Worm to be crushed.

***

All was quiet as Mysaria stepped outside of her establishment. It was the hour of the Wolf and most of the city was sleeping. Even her patrons were sleeping with whores draped over them.

A hooded figure approached.

“My establishment is closed for the evening,” Mysaria said.

The stranger said nothing. A gloved hand seized her by the throat, forcing her against the rough stone wall. She struggled but it was of no use. The steel of the dagger was cool against her skin, and then it was embedded in her abdomen. The man stepped away and she fell to her knees.

Her assailant ran.

As Mysaria slipped into endless oblivion she wondered if the hooded stranger belonged to the Greens or the Blacks.

***

The hooded figure continued his way to the dragon pit. The queen was only a few moons away from giving birth. The assassin slipped into the dwelling that housed a score of dragon keepers. A torch and a flask of oil and he made quick work of setting the place ablaze.

Voices shouted as the flames were seen and the hooded figure slipped into the shadows.

While the keepers were distracted, he found his quarry. The golden dragon egg gleamed in the open warmer.

He pressed the egg against his side, concealing it with his cloak.

The hood slipped as the thief made his way to the docks. Criston Cole would hide the egg in Dorne until his beloved queen had given birth. And then his son or daughter would claim the hatchling.

He would do everything he could to ensure a victory for the Greens.

[thisistoji]

TITS

credit: wanko

[watcher0033]

Y’all, the Archive admins are made up of VOLUNTEERS. And they have been working for 12-13 HOURS STRAIGHT.

I better not hear any complaints when donation period comes around. OR ELSE.

cosplay by @woahchriswoah on Twitter

EDIT: How do we show appreciation to the volunteers? For me reading these deep dives on OTW issues u guys apparently it's been said multiple times that one of their objective statements is to have paid staff for ao3 and there's a surplus of donations they haven't used up or the other community solutions that needs to address. For those more financially literate feel free to analyze, snipe me or add to the discussion etc. linked here by deepa. They’re cool and these yearly analysis they did aint no joke.

But Seriously what can we do for these volunteers? The probable burn out from this entire fiasco would be no joke. @ao3org

[asjeontrw]

Credits to @My_onenon1y on Twitter

@asjeontrw

[pachimation]

the past vs the present vs hat guy

[c0eu4]

Charles speaking dirty in french🤭🤭🤭🤭

CL16 | Dirty boy ♡

Summary: Y/n keeps bothering her boyfriend until he gives in and shows her how to be a good girl.

Warning: dirty talk, smut, no protect sex, dom!Charles, sub!reader, mean!Charles, handcuffs, a bit of hitting (soft)

A/N: enjoy<3

Translation: mon amour= my love | Chéri.e= darling

MASTERLIST requests are open

She sits on his lap, her hand passing through his brown hair. ''Mon amour, I'm trying to work.'' If there are two things that the young woman loves, it's annoying her boyfriend when he's trying to work and his horribly sexy French accent.

She kisses his cheek, her other hand running over his abs through his t-shirt. He feels a shiver down his spine, but doesn't give in to temptation. ''Chérie, please.''

She doesn't listen to him and kiss the crook of his neck, nibbing it softly. His hand found its way to her waist, rubbing it softly. ''Don't you want to take a break?'' She let her hand go under his t-shirt, using her fingerstip to touch his abs.

He sighs, from pleasure? Annoying? She does not know but she doesn't care. Her hand under his t-shirt keeps going up, her mouth continuing to stimulate his neck by leaving a few red marks and lovebites.

He didn't push her away, trying to focus on the computer screen in front of him. He begins to feel tight in his pants, her ass wiggling against him and her fingertips tracing the vertical line of his abs.

His hand which was on her waist goes down to caress her ass, squeezing it softly. ''T'as envie que je te baise hein?'' you want me to fuck you, huh?

She doesn't understand what he said but can't help and moan softly against his soft skin. He grabs her jaw and forces her head up to kiss her. She moans into the kiss and Charles takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, caressing the inside of her cheeks.

She removes his headphone and places it on the desk, running her hand through his hair. He picks her up and moves her into the bedroom, dropping her on the bed. ''Qu'est ce que je vais faire de toi?'' What am I going to do with you?

She feels the excitement build even more in her body, his accent completely turning her brain. ''Tu es si irrésistible..'' You're so irresistible.

He removes his t-shirt, finally revealing his abs that she loves to caress so much. ''Take off all of your clothes.'' His voice was firm yet sweet. She listens to him and takes off her clothes, revealing her underwear to him. ''I said all of your clothes.'' She can't help but blush, even though Charles has seen her naked so many times.

She takes off her last clothes and watches him rummage through the drawer of his nightstand.

''Is it ok if I tie your wrist to the bed?'' She bit her lower lips. ''Yes. You can do whatever you want with me, my love.''

Charles smirks, taking off two handcuffs from the drawer, deftly tying one end around one of her wrist, securing it to the headboard. He repeated this process with her other wrist, leaving her bound and vulnerable in front of him.

He takes his time to take off his pants and joins her in bed, getting on top of her and one of his hands already trailing between her thighs. ''Je parie que tu es toute mouillée, mh?'' I bet you're soaking, mh?

She whines, wanting him to touch her. ''Please.. Charlie..'' He chuckles, his cold hand touching her inner thighs. She can't help but move her hips to try and show him her impatience. His fingers move up slowly and he slides one finger between her wet folds. ''Toute mouillée et rien que pour moi.'' All wet and only for me.

She closes her eyes, trying to move her hands but can't. Her head fell back against the pillow with a long moan of his name when she felt his lips against her bundle of nerves.

She can't help but squirm with pleasure as he continues to stimulate her with his tongue. And just as she was about to cum, Charles suddenly stopped and moved his kisses back to her stomach.

''What the hell Charles!'' she shouted, frustrated. He laughs, kissing her ribs. His laugh is deep and dark, almost frightening.

He rubs himself against her wet fold, making her moan deeply. He can feel the wet through his boxer and it turns him so much on. ''Putain Y/n tu vas me faire jouir juste parce que t'es autant mouillée.'' Damn Y/n you're gonna make me cum just because of your wetness.

''Charles..I need you!'' She whines, shaking violently under him. He doesn't wait longer and takes off his boxer and thrust roughly into her tight and wet cunt.

''Merde.. t'es si serré..'' shit.. you're so tight..

He doesn't wait any longer to almost pull out and go back in roughly.

''Tu la prends si bien.'' You take it so well.

If he keeps talking like that, she'll probably cum faster than expected.

''Oh oui, t'es si bonne.. ma pute..'' Oh yes, you're so good.. my whore..

''Ch-Charles!'' She moaned loudly before cumming hardly around his cock. Charles takes it upon himself and holds back from cumming as he feels her walls tightening around his cock. He speeds up his movements, his hips hitting hers with a sensual sound of flesh smacking and a wet sound.

His hand hits the side of her thigh. ''Dit moi que tu m'appartient.'' Tell me you're mine.

She doesn't understand what he says and moans loudly, not having time to recover from her orgasm.

Charles hit her thigh a second time, this time leaving a red mark of his hand. ''Dit moi que you're mine!''

Her back arches a second time, her eyes filling with tears. ''I-I'm yours !'' He moaned loudly, but kept holding himself. ''En Français.'' in French.

The feeling is almost unbreathable and she can barely find her breath. ''Je..J-je appartiens.'' She managed to moan, with her sensual English accent.

''Putain oui..Bonne fille.. Mon jouet baisable préféré..'' Fuck yes.. good girl.. my favorite fucktoy..

Charles redoubles his efforts, showing his breathing and dumbbell physique in his thrusts. The room is filled with their moans. One of Charles' hands finds its way between her legs, playing with her clit.

She doesn't wait any longer to come brutally a second time, tears leave her eyes to roll down her cheeks.

''Oh oui.. serre moi fort..'' Oh yes.. tight me hard..

Charles continues to thrust inside her until he reaches his own climax, his hot seed feeling her up perfectly.

''Ah! Putain! Y/n! T'es trop bonne!'' Ah! Fuck! Y/n! You're too good!

He crashes into her, still being careful not to hurt her. After a few minutes of catching their breath, he pulls out of her with a wet noise and one last moan leaves her lips.

He unties her hands, massaging her wrist to relieve it. ''Ça va, mon chat?'' All good, my cat?

She turns around and hugs him tightly, nuzzling her head into his neck. ''That was great. As usual.''

He can't help but smirk, his hands rubbing her back. ''Je sais que t'aime bien quand je suis méchant avec toi..'' I know you like it when I'm mean with you..

One of his hand goes lower and gently strokes her red thigh. She kisses his neck, already nibbing on it again.

''Ready for round two?''

[kakushino]

The Queen

Ryomen Sukuna x F! Reader

He never orders you around - rather, he requests.

Tags: slight gore, suggestive, fem reader, true form Sukuna Word count: 1,7k

Masterlist

AN: Fanart used in banner made by the amazing @innaillus - be sure to check out their divine fanart Written as a Secret Santa's gift for @zoyakuna - Merry (early) Christmas! (and pls stop slandering Giyuu, it's causing me undue stress)

There was little to amuse you in your secluded throne room underground. 

Correction - there had been little to amuse you out of your throne room, so you had retreated back into your palace - and even then, was it a palace, when there were no servants, no great halls, no music, and no consort?

Just you - the Supreme Sovereign - and your throne made of roots and vines. 

Which made it odd to hear a sound echo in your chamber. You feared nothing, no one, and your heart remained steady, not a beat out of place, your eyes closed as you rested from lifetimes of exhaustion.

“Who goes there?” you called out, not moving from your reclined position. 

You were it to him, the holy grail of his searching - the Queen of Curses. Your name was feared enough that it had been scratched out from all written sources, the feats accredited to you terrifying… yet thrilling to Sukuna. He had needed to meet you, though he knew not why… A deep hunger for companionship, another who could stand at his level, who could reign with him from his Shrine, a craving so consuming he nearly went mad with his searching. 

And he did find you, though hardly in the condition he thought he would.

“This is what You have become? The cynosure of all mortals reduced to a wretch.” 

The voice was rough, forceful - distinctly male - though the tone held a hint of remorse and confusion. “All beauty is short-lived,” was all you said, a slight irritation churning your stomach for the first time in - decades, centuries, millenia? Who knows?

“Not for curses. We are eternal.” You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, and intense. It lashed out at your own, but like water parting around a blade, yours did too, accepting and redirecting the angry force, dispersing it, and eventually absorbing it. It was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being suffocated under the weight of the world, a drop of water quenching a soul-deep thirst in the desert of life.

You opened your eyes and sat up properly as you studied him.

The man - curse - was tall, broad, and regal. A king would be a title befitting his posture. His hair was a light color you could hardly make out in the darkness of your abode. The dark marks adorning his face stood out starkly against his skin, as did the shape of the disfigured flesh on the right side of his face. Four gleaming eyes were focused on you, four arms relaxed at his sides.

This man was fascinating, and beautiful; he could easily sway the hearts of humans, bring them to their knees. Too bad you were not human.

“Join me, your Majesty.” Despite the wording, it was a plea. How odd. 

“Who are you to ask anything of me?” You blinked slowly. You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, intense, … defensive, lonely. It enticed you, spoke to you in a language you understood all too well. It wasn’t in your nature to deny an honest request.

“Ryomen Sukuna, your Majesty,” he introduced himself. There was a sense of pride in the way he spoke, as if his existence was created, carved out, into the world by his own hands.

Perhaps Ryomen Sukuna would be the cure to your continued boredom. 

You stood up from your throne, your figure hardly atrophied as your cursed energy kept you in peak form. The roots and vines retreated into the cave walls, leaving no trace of your royal seat, the chamber empty again for centuries to come.

“Very well.”

Living with Sukuna was hardly boring. Each day, you felt your apathy falling away as you spent time with the King of Curses, until you smiled freely in his presence. The day you realized he softened you to this degree came all too suddenly.

His cruelty to humans who sought to undermine him was but a flimsy curtain of who he truly was. Like a displeased cat, claws exposed, he scratched up those daring to approach him, but with you -

With you he was as playful and borderline affectionate as the tabby you used to feed back in your human days. It warmed your heart, and your cheeks, to feel his eyes on your figure. It made you feel unsteady on your feet. It made you question who was the ruler of the other, who held the power over the other; the power imbalance slowly became a balance - your energy dimmed by the way he could play you like a puppet.

All these feelings weaved together and knotted around your heart, snaring you in a complex web too tight to escape, exposing your throat to him like a delicacy to be gorged upon.

Only if you let him know, that is.

You somehow felt that a man like him wouldn’t settle, and more importantly, he was a man; just another one of the hordes who wanted a demure consort, you could bet. You were not a dainty flower he likely sought; you were a weed - growing strong despite the harshest of conditions, clawing out a place for your existence where there had been none before. The Curse of Curses.

So you buried those feelings like a female buried herself under layers of junihitoe - though you refused to wear that monstrosity despite the latest fashion in Japan, as all the fabric was too heavy for comfort. You made do with the yukata you stole from Sukuna’s wardrobe. It was definitely not because it smelled like him. 

You kept away from the humans and the ruling in his Shrine, spending time with Uraume, him, or alone in the gardens - until you could not. He’d left you in charge of his Kingdom when he had business to do. 

Human men were deplorable, thinking you were just a weak curse to be manipulated and slandered. You didn’t raise your voice at all, yet it shut everyone up in the hall - save for one local lord thinking himself too mighty to listen. No amount of flattery would have kept him alive after that. A wave of your hand made vines grow out of his guts - burrowing through his flesh as easily as tearing paper apart; sweet-smelling white flowers bloomed from the mess of red-coated plant matter in the middle of the chamber. 

You sat in Sukuna’s throne of bones, regal and untouchable.

That was how he found you - presiding over his subjects like the Goddess you were, and bloody Spring sprouted in front of him, rubies glinting upon the stone floors like a grotesque decoration. 

At first, he had wanted to study you - the Queen of Curses, the Supreme Sovereign, older than him, wiser, more powerful. Forgotten, yet not forgotten enough for him not to find any sources mentioning your title. He had been curious about you, and then he became curious about the feelings you evoked in him. Your presence in his home converted from an adornment into an emollient to him, smoothing the rough edges and softening the spikes of his defenses against you, yet you remained the centerpiece of his attention, even when you weren’t in his presence. He found himself thinking about you in all his waking moments.

“Everyone, out.”

He could not hide his devotion to you if he tried now - it had grown roots in his soul and fed off of his life-force, yet strengthened it twice as much. His heart was set ablaze every time he laid eyes upon your form, the blood in his veins searing hot, branding him from the inside - a slave to you forevermore.

And so he knelt at your feet, the bottom two of his arms supporting him as he leaned forward, his top pair carefully reaching for your foot and raising it to his face.

The King of Curses kissed your ankle, closing his eyes in silent worship to his Goddess, his World. 

“Your Majesty,” he greeted you in a whisper, his lips caressing your skin.

Your eyes grew soft as you studied him, your posture proud but your expression fond. “Sukuna.”

Wet, hot tongue darted out to taste your skin, making you jolt and tear your leg from his grasp with pursed lips. The tabby was particularly impertinent today.

“You have no respect for your Queen, do you?” 

“On the contrary, I hold all the respect for you.” His smirk was mischievous, he knew as well as you did neither of you were serious about this. Just a harmless teasing, if a bit skewed. 

You used your foot to lightly push against his chest to tip him over onto his back - which he let you do, for he could have as easily resisted. Even falling down, he looked graceful. It made you feel warm inside your ribcage as you pushed a joyous smile down.

Sukuna turned the fall into a backwards roll, ending up on his knees again.

“At least you know your place - on your knees before me…”

“I-” he licked his lips, “I would gladly be on my knees for you all day, Your Majesty.”

Oh? It was your turn to give him a smile full of mischief as he slowly moved back to you. You remained silent.

“Has a cat got your tongue?” 

Sukuna shuffled forward on his knees, his top pair of arms resting on the bones of his throne as he came even closer. Palms trailing to your thighs and covering them with his hands - an easy feat with his size. 

You could do naught but marvel at the contrast of your limbs and his - each powerful and deadly in their own right, each in a different way. There was no tremor of fear in your muscles, only anticipation, even while he lightly spread your legs to fit his torso between them as you lounged on his throne.

“Let me feast on your nectar.” His voice, smooth like silk, a plea rather than an order, the nuance of his tone telling all you needed to know. He appeared unreadable to others, but he was as exposed and vulnerable as a newborn babe to you at this moment.

Even so, your lips parted in surprise at his request for you didn’t expect him to say it out loud at last. “Forward, aren’t you?”

His carmine eyes - all four of them - focused on yours with an intensity you were only just getting used to with him. Sukuna said nothing as he waited for your response.

The devil didn’t bargain, after all.

“Very well… Show me how you would worship your Queen, my King.”

dividers by the divine @benkeibear

network: @enchantedforest-network

[velvetwilde]

Who the fuck he think he is to be this damn hot?

[solarsturniolo]

can you do texts with bf!chris please?

Texts with Bf!Chris

Warnings: cursing / sexual innuendos / i think that’s pretty much it

Tags: @flowerxbunnie @mattslolita @mattsbratt69 @oversturn @simplysturn @soursturniolo @megamett44-lover @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @plasticferal @cupidsword @liz-stxrn @sturniolosreads @sturnioloskies @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @matthemunch44 @nonamegirlxsturniolo @chrizz333 @sturniolopowers @mattsleftnipple03 @worldlxvlys @hearts4chris @tillies33ssss @janiellasblog @creamoncreamoncream2 @breeloveschris @meg-sturniolo @ellie-luvsfics @mattsfavwh3re @lustfulslxt @braindead4l @xtravrgnoliveoil @ghostlythinggoingaround @taekwite @rootbeerworshiper @querenciasturniolo @whicked-hazlatwhore @lacysturniolo @sara2233445 @junnniiieee07 @m4ttslvr @sturnioloblogs @missriddle03 @mqttittude @miloisdone1 @bewtyschooldropout @lovelybrokenheal @itzdarling

[sailorholly]

Appetizer

Summary: A night out with the team takes a delicious turn.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ only. Minors DNI.

See my Masterlist Here

“Give me your panties.” Your boyfriend Spencer, commanded. He was different since he got out of prison. There was something dark about him now. You weren’t complaining. Sure, you missed the old Spencer, but now he was rougher with you.

The sex was good before, but now he didn’t treat you like a porcelain doll, afraid you would break even from the lightest touch. He was still sweet to you, but you would have to say the sex is better.

You look at him with wide eyes, reaching your hand under your dress to remove them. You place one hand on his forearm to steady yourself, pulling your feet out one at a time. You fold them, placing them in his outstretched hand. He puts them in his pocket, grabbing your hand before you leave to meet the rest of the team.

When you arrive, you take a seat next to Penelope. She beams as you settle in, telling you how beautiful you look. You order your drinks when the server stops by. Kristy, Matt’s wife is talking about their kids, but you stop listening when Spencer’s large hand caresses your thigh.

Your eyes meet his, he lifts an eyebrow at you. You turn back to the conversation, Spencer leans in, his hot breath tickling your ear, sending goosebumps down your arms. “I don’t want to hear a sound fall from those pretty lips. Do you understand?” You nod your head, breath caught in your throat.

“Alright love birds, get a room!” Penelope teases you. You smile and laugh, pretending you weren’t affected by Spencer’s words. You are suddenly thankful you chose a black dress, so nobody else would see your arousal flooding the fabric.

Spencer’s hand inches higher, so close to where you need him. You continue talking with the girls while Spencer talks about the case the team just solved with Luke and Rossi. You squirm, the anticipation making it hard to sit still. Spencer removes his hand, taking a sip from his drink.

You stifle a whine, pretending you have to cough. Spencer’s hand returns, higher than before. You wonder if he can feel your desire for him dripping down your thigh. Your silent question is answered when he rubs it into your soft skin. The heat from his hand makes you throb. If he would only move his hand a little to the left and put you out of your misery.

The server starts taking everyone’s orders starting with Penelope. She hands her menu to the smiling man, who acknowledges you. “For you, miss?” Spencer plunges two fingers inside you, and you can’t remember what you were going to order. You were lucky you didn’t cry out at the sudden intrusion.

The server smiles, but you can tell he is growing impatient. “I, umm.” You begin, but Spencer cuts you off. “She’ll have the steak medium rare.” He answers for you. You smile at him in appreciation as his slender fingers curl, hitting your g-spot.

You quickly grab your glass and bring it to your lips, trying to stay silent. His thumb slowly swirls your clit, and your vision goes blurry. You grab his arm, needing something to steady yourself. The server comes by with the appetizers for the table, giving you a sideways glance. For a brief second, you think he knows.

Any worries about that fade as quickly as they came while Spencer’s long fingers slide in and out of you. You’re silently praying that Penelope can’t hear the obscene squelching every time his fingers glide into you. She’s none the wiser, gushing to Tara about her latest date.

Spencer continues working you with slow strokes of his fingers, his thumb dragging across your clit in small movements. Your fingers dig into his leg under the table. You watch as he acts unaffected, eating the greasy appetizer with his free hand. You shouldn’t be this turned on in public, in front of your coworkers sitting right beside you.

The server returns with everyone’s meals as Spencer picks up his pace. He adds another finger, strumming your clit with his thumb. It’s an effort not to rock your hips into his hand when you are so close. His thumb works faster as he curls his long fingers once more, tipping you over the edge.

Your steak is placed in front of you, as your orgasm rips through you. You grip the table, needing to hold on. You’ve never came this hard in your life. “Are you alright, miss? Your face is flushed. Would you like some more water?”

“Y-yes please.” You manage to mumble as your pleasure fades. Everyone looks at you, Emily asks if you want her to go to the bathroom with you because you do look quite flushed. You refuse, blaming it on the restaurant being too hot.

After your refill of water, everyone starts to dig in. Spencer removes his hand from between your thighs, bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth. His tongue swirls around the tip of one of his fingers. “Mmm” he moans as your taste reaches his tongue. “If the main course is as delicious as the appetizer, I’ve found my new favorite restaurant.” He winks at you, wiping his hand on his napkin.

Tags

@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @wheredafandomat @cynbx @lover-of-books-and-tea @lamentis-10 @zzumkii @megharat-barnes-reid @anonymously-ominous @kats72 @vivian-555 @itzdarling @emarich7 @nomajdetective @aelinismyqueen @wildernessflora @academiareid @loz-3

[theonlymadmanonmars]

Hi hello hi. As an AroAce individual in a QPR who has no desire for a romantic or sexual relationship, I think shipping Alastor in QPRs is so so fun and people should do it more. I also think it works for a good amount if not all of the ships I've seen him in.

Alastor and Rosie: Hell yeah. They're already great friends and every interaction we've seen between them has been pure and adorable. Rosie Gently guiding Alastor through his identity because he isn't exactly up with the slang. Them going out for tea and human flesh Sunday afternoons. Them giving each other forehead kisses and holding hands platonically.

Alastor and Angle dust: Mhmm. Angle not really wanting Sex or romance after all he's been through. Angle respecting Alastor's identity and not pushing for anything more than friendship. Alastor not really liking Angle at first because of their differences, But tolerating him regardles. Alastor explaining to Angle that Romantic relationships don't have to involve Sex (I'm an Asexual Angle truther.) Angle offering Alastor a hug that Alastor reluctantly accepts. Them cuddling at night with a pinky Promise of nothing more.

Alastor and Vox: Go ahead. A fic about Alastor trying to Navigate exactly how he feels about Vox, Because when he died the term AroAce didn't exist, so he thinks it's romantic attraction, Maybe they kiss and Alastor is like "Ha! No!" Maybe that's why they had their falling out? Who knows.

Alastor and Lucifer: So So SO much Yes. (This is my personal favorite) The two of them hating each other, but putting up for each other for Charlie's sake. Slowly growing to actually tolerate and maybe even like being around the other. Exchanging snarky remarks in a more playful way. Alastor finding Lucifer sitting in a pile of ducks and despair and offering his hand to help him up and take him to the hotel. Never letting go of his hand. Fuck Enemies to Friends to Lovers I want an Enemies to Friends to Qpr arc goddamnit.

I do think it's okay to ship Alastor even outside of QPR's, BUT. If you do, don't just ignore Alastor's identity. AroAce people get far less representation than the rest of the LGBTQ+ community. I can think of one other canon Character off the top of my head. So it's not okay to erase the little rep we do get. In the end I think it's important to listen to what AroAce people have to say on the matter, it is our representation after all.

[thatrandomsarahchick]

DC x DP short

I'm picturing Danny moving to Gotham once he's an adult. He came out to his parents, and it went fine. More than fine. They listened to how he was struggling at school because he kept having to chase down the ghosts they let out by leaving the portal open. Jack was super proud of his son for being a ghost hunter even as a ghost, but Maddie understood his concern and set up some new protocols for the portal.

It now automatically closes after two minutes unless a specific command is put in by Danny to keep it open while he is in the Zone, and the shielding around it actually works to stop ghosts coming trig without hurting them now.

The shine of the mortal world has worn off for most of his regulars now, and those that come through have figured out compromises so they can still fulfil their obsessions without hurting others. The meta-protection act officially disbands the GIW, and Red Huntress is given a very thorough speaking to about personal bias and vendettas. She's not allowed back in the field until she comes to the realisation that ghosts are people too, and that she been the bad guy by hunting them the way she did. Phantom is officially recognised as a Hero, but he turns down working for any teams or joining the Big Leagues. He agrees to act as a back up though, in case of any world ending event.

By the time senior year rolls around, Danny has gotten his grades up enough that he can go to a pretty decent university if he wants to. He chooses Gotham University for his engineering degree because they're a feeder school for Wayne Enterprises, who in turn are a feeder company for working for the Justice League as a civilian engineer. Tucker also chooses GU for their tech program, while Sam elects not to go to university straight away.

Tucker and Danny move into an apartment right on the borders of Crime Alley and The Narrows. Tucker manages an impressive 4 months as a local hacker before Oracle notices him, but Danny only manages 3 weeks before he's spotted by a Bat.

He's lying down a foot above his building's roof, looking at the stars. It's a very rare cloudless night, and the power is out in his area. Poison Ivy had launched an attack earlier in the day that had taken cut the power lines, with her mutant plants feeding on the smog and pollution to get stronger.

Duke was up late, finishing the day shift by a quick loop of The Narrows, when he noticed a slightly glowing teenager(?) floating on one of the roofs. He takes note that the man isn't causing any harm and is just peacefully stargazing, before calling it in to Jason. He was technically supposed to be off the clock an hour ago, and besides, the building was on the Crime Alley side of this street. It's Jason's problem now.

Jason, on the other hand, is exhausted and just wants to have a quiet patrol before collapsing in bed. He hadn't been hit by Ivy's plants, but had taken a couple of tumbles while dodging them. He heads over to the address Duke gave him, to find the guy still floating there staring at the sky. He gets it, he does, he would float above the grime that coats Gotham rooftops if he could, but it's dangerous for a meta to be so unawares of his surroundings like this while obviously displaying his powers.

Danny, meanwhile, had clocked both of the vigilantes coming near him, but was really hoping that they would leave him alone. It had been a very long day for him. He'd finally managed to get to campus for his class, only to find that the place was covered in overgrown plants. He'd had to freeze a few to get into the building, and had then spent most of the afternoon in the library due to his class being cancelled. Unfortunately for him, his nearly finished assignment that he'd spent the day working on was eaten by one of the giant flowers on his way home. He'd been 'saved' by the stabby Robin, which had caused him to then also lose his laptop as they crashed to the rooftop a few streets over.

Thankfully, he had an amazing best friend in Tucker, who was doing his best to recover as much data as possible. On the downside, though, Tucker was mad at him for now having saved a backup of his files since they left Amity. He'd fled to the roof to escape his wrath, plans of bribes in the form of food running through his mind, when he'd caught sight of the Stars. Holy shit. It was so clear tonight!

He didn't even realise he'd begun to glow and float, too caught up in naming all of the stars and constellations he could see. His Obsession was feeling very satisfied tonight. Usually he had to invisibly fly above the cloud cover to see such a sight. Sure, the light pollution was still bad, but his mind was able to fill in the blanks across the sky.

The moment Jason landed on his roof, Danny heaved a great sigh. Damnit. The fun police were here. He wrenched his eyes from the sky, only to notice that - oh, shit - he was floating again. He fell to the roof with a light thump.

"Heeeyyy stranger, come here often?" Danny asked, as he rolled over to his side, propping his head up on his hand.

[thisistoji]

so cleaaan

credit: _skj003

[anothertimdrakestan]

Batboys Toxic Traits Headcanons

because no one is perfect, i wanted to get a little dirty with it and imagine what the boys are like when they're a little... too obsessed with you.

tw for romanticizing possessive, obsessive, jealous, aggressive actions haha xoxo

Jason Todd

- scary dog privileges wherever you go with jace, but he is ALL bite with one and only one warning bark.

- when a hand that isn't his brushes your thigh in a club, fingers get broken. when a cat caller thinks his compliment just has to be said to you, he most likely won't be able to speak again for weeks. And god forbid any villain try to use you as bait for jason, they've all learned if they value their life to never touch you. He's all for justice not vengeance until anyone tries to mess with you, then those words always get mixed up in his head.

- sometimes you cant even complain about people, they end up getting randomly harassed by a certain someone until they just move town

- jason is adamant as long as he's alive there won't be a problem of yours he can't solve with a little violence

- your biggest problem is that he struggles to let you have guy friends, obviously the ones he knows especially fellow heroes are more than fine, but he's been known to burst blood vessels when he sees you close and person with men he's never met

- he's proud of it too: "let another man try and touch y/n, it's been a slow night for me." or "i just don't get why you need him as a friend when you have me, myself, and i"

Tim Drake

- tim gets... obsessive.

- he tends to fall hard but with you he brought the house down with him

- before you were officially his he had hacked every security camera in the city to have eyes on you at any given moment

- both for your safety and his own maniacal flirting strategy: you admire shoes but frown at the price tag? tim's buying you the matching bag to go with the shoes he bought the second you looked at them.

- before you knew how insanely in love with you he was, you truly thought he was a mind reader

- well he kind of was, seeing as he scrolled through your search history every night to know which talking points to bring up with you

- once you finally fell for him and set some stronger boundaries he still occasionally found himself double checking your location when you weren't by his side, or lazily purchasing every item on your pinterest boards, he just can't help but dote on you

Damian Wayne

- damian doesn't really get close to people, but as always you were his exception

- however, this means his list of people to hang out with is extremely short, and he saw no problem in wanting to be around you wherever you went whenever he could

- like a kind of tall, dark, and brooding puppy, he quietly followed you everywhere, and when you strictly told him he couldn't follow along, you always noticed a perched shadow just a few building away

- eventually you got used to rolling over to damian coolly watching you sleep or patiently waiting to pick you up from your classes/job, happy just to walk you to your car

- just like jason, damian had a brutal and heartless style of problem-solving when it came to anyone giving you trouble

- too often you found yourself standing in between his rage a massive mistake whether it was nearly assaulting a friend of yours who tried to ask you out or threatening to buy out your entire workplace when you didn't get the promotion you wanted

- forever cooling his rage was worth having his adoration though, and you were happy to have your overbearing shadow follow you throughout your days

Dick Grayson

- for such a bubbly leader, dick often struggled with communication

- always used to bearing his problems alone youd spent too many nights tracking down your own boyfriend only to beg him to tell you what's wrong

- he never understood that you didn't always want to solve his problems, but hold his sadness or hurt with him

- it was the worst when he was upset with you, whether it was jealously or insecurity that crept into his mind

- he'd take off in a rush hoping you wouldn't notice but you always did, either hunting him down or simply waiting with open arms for him to come home

- it would take years to teach your traveling-circus-raised boyfriend that you weren't going anywhere, ever.

- but, this made for many heartfelt nights where he held you and promised you the world, as if you'd opened him up in a way no one else could, pulling forward the most magical and loving side of your sweet boy