#[[ and he's still shocked that he managed to say it all xD ]]

[countlessrealities]

Kisses under the mistletoe

@technodromes sent: 💗 : my muse mentions that they want to be kissed under a mistletoe (for Bishop & SR)

Holidays were always a weird time for Rick. His family had never really celebrated them outside the religious aspect, something he had never cared about. He had celebrated his fist, "real" Christmas with Diane and her parents, in his late teen years, back in a time that now felt like it belonged to another life. They had kept up the tradition during their marriage and she had always invited him over even after they had divorced.

All in all, he had some good memories linked to the day, but he also had quite a few that weren't as pleasant. The first year he had spent it at Beth's, they had reconnected was just one example. He still marvelled that Nora hadn't ended up literally kicking him out, considering what fight had broken out between the two of them. At least Summer had loved her present.

Then there had been the odd years he had chosen to spend Christmas on the Citadel, to make sure that AR did more than just getting drunk and throwing around lewd holiday-related insults until he managed to start a brawl. His best friend always insisted on getting wasted, and he had gotten the guard intoxicated too more than once, but at least no fighting had ever been involved.

Also, he had to admit that, since the election of their new president, the Citadel had always looked great during that time of the year, with all the lights and decoration and the massive tree set up in the middle of the main square. The view from the top of the highest buildings was beautiful and it almost made him feel like the city-state could be a great place to live.

Those last two things were the reason why he had decided to man up and invite Bishop over to this relatively calm but still fun party AR had roped him into joining. Deep down, Rick suspected that it was mostly a ploy to keep him busy, so that he wouldn't be there to stop him from doing whatever he had planned for a certain Commander they both knew.

The thought almost caused SR to sigh, but he held the urge back, choosing instead to focus his attention back on his friend. He had been scheming a little too, so he couldn't really judge the black market dealer as much as he usually did. Not without sounding like a hypocrite, at least.

"I-I hope all this isn't too confusing for you," he spoke up, after having swallowed a mouthful of the liquor he had been sipping. He wasn't planning on getting drunk, but he had figured that he could use a dose of liquid courage. "M-Most of the shit you see is stuff from Earth, b-but apparently someone had the bright idea t-to mix it up with alien traditions and...I-I won't lie. I-I have no idea of what that is supposed to be."

He pointed with his thumb an oddly shaped...something that had been put in one of the corners of the terrace. His guess was that it was some sort of decoration, with how brightly it was shining, but it was also made of what had felt like solid good when he had got to poke at it. Plus, there was a Santa hat casually tossed on top of it, which only furthered the confusion.

"B-But I hope that you...w-well, that you like the place. U-Usually the Citadel is never festive, s-so...I thought that you should see it like this too."

What he didn't say was that he was hoping that this would allure the Utrom to spend more of the holidays with him. He did have a guest room in his flat, even if that was another thing he hadn't mentioned yet.

"An-And speaking of traditions, t-there's a funny one I should tell you about..."

His voice trailed off and he gulped quietly, resisting the temptation of downing the rest of the contents of his glass. He knew that he couldn't have managed to be smooth about this, but he wanted at least not to show how nervous he was.

"Y-You see that plant up there? T-The, uh, mistletoe?" He made himself go on, nodding towards the bunch of white berries and green leaves that was hanging from one of the light wires. There were a few sprinkled here and there, just waiting to catch two unaware people underneath them.

"B-Back on Earth, i-if you and someone else end up under it at the same y-you're supposed to...to kiss. I-It's considered a well-liked romantic clichéd."

He wasn't sounding to lame, right? Or, even worse, too desperate?

"I-I did it once. T-The, uh, under the mistletoe kiss, I mean. B-Back when Diane, my ex-wife, and I were still dating. W-We were at this party our college had organised an-and she tricked me so she could catch underneath one of those things. I-I was embarrassed as hell, b-but...it's a nice memory."

Clearing his throat, he allowed himself another sip of liquor as a reward for having gotten this far without running away, before forcing himself to stare right at Bishop as he spoke the next, crucial words.

"I-I've been thinking...I-It would be nice to do it again. W-With the right person, i-if they wanted to try it out." He could do it, just one more sentence. "An-And since you like learning about Earth stuff, I-I thought that we could...you know. K-Kill two birds with one stone maybe?"

[tenaciousbouquetearthquake]

Shall I tell you how many Nazis I killed today?, pt1

I originally posted this on ao3, but I'm posting here just to see what happens and because I haven't been on tumblr in like three years since my last fandom got too toxic to stay in and I have no idea who's on here anymore/what people are into. Except Destial because apparently that's trending and I completely support that. XD

Read it on ao3 / Check out the story’s masterlist

You're a medic on the Maid Honor during the mission to rescue Appleyard. You and Anders *may* have developed a bit reputation in the short time you've been together. The guys are 100% done with accidentally walking in on the two of you. Contains some mild smut.

Every time Anders Lassen smiles, it does things to you. In fact, it does a lot of things to you, although whether it makes you go cold with fear or hot with excitement depends entirely on if he has a weapon in his hands and is covered in blood or not. 

It’s better when he’s covered in Nazi blood and has a weapon in his hands. That’s when you know that Anders is doing well—he comes back from a mission with a nary a scratch, a quiver without any arrows left, a thoroughly used blade, and covered in a truly disturbing amount of blood…but he’ll be smiling, a particular smile meant only for you as he walks in your space on the boat and leans idly against the wall.

The sight of him is always a bit of a shock when you glance up from where you’ve been surveying your medical supplies. He’s too big for this space, always, and it’s not just his physical size. Anders Lassen is too big a personality, too strong a presence, for any room to contain. “I return to you victorious, min skat ,” Anders says in that low, soft voice of his, arms crossed in a way that showcases the well-developed muscles in his arms. He does it on purpose, knowing the way your eyes are drawn to them each time, a subtle form of preening meant just for you. “Shall I tell you how many Nazis I killed today?”

Your eyes stray slowly from those muscular arms to the broad width of his shoulders, moving gradually toward his tanned face as one side of his lips quirk up into a hint of a smirk. You try not to notice it, and when that doesn’t work, you try not to let it affect you—even though it does. God , how it does. “Oh? Are you keeping count now?” You continue to pat your hands dry with the cloth you’re using, having just reassessed all the medical supplies you brought with you on the boat. “When did you have the time to do that? I thought this was a rescue mission, after all.”

His smirk grows a little bigger as he watches you, humming a low sound before he pushes off from the wall and takes a rather large, predatory step toward you. “Yes, but…that doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun, does it?” He takes another step, his smirk altering into the hint of a grin when he sees you twitch ever so slightly in response, as if you’re preparing to run. “You’re not afraid of me, are you, Y/N?” Another step, his intense gaze focused entirely on you as you force yourself to stand still—although this is as much prey behavior as running away would be. “I only want to have a little fun with you.” Another step, and this time he’s so close that he does force you backward, pressing your body against the wall as Anders towers over you. If he wasn’t already predatory enough, he leans forward and rests his palms on either side of your face, his heavy arms pinning you in place as he invades your personal space. “Do you not like to have fun, min skat?”

It's hard to concentrate with him so close, even when he’s not looking his best, and Anders Lassen covered in blood after what was probably a massacre isn’t exactly your favorite look on him. You find yourself licking your lips softly, teeth scraping over the bottom lip, and force yourself to take a deep breath as you look up at him, trying to buy yourself a few extra seconds before you respond. “I like to have fun,” you reply, surprised that you’ve managed to keep your voice steady. “At appropriate times and in appropriate places.” You silently cringe when you say it, simultaneously aware that you’re the team medic and that Appleyard is going to require your attention, and Lassen’s body is so very, very close to your own.

Anders feigns being hurt, looking crestfallen at the rejection, still pressing into your space, and with each passing second you grow intensely more aware of other details—the blood soaked into the collar of his shirt, the faint beating of his pulse on his neck, the shallow cut above his eyebrow.

The sheer weight of his body in front of you, the heat of him. Heavy and oppressive and so fucking hot that your body instinctively clenches in response, every inch of your skin aware of his presence. He tilts his head forward, nearly resting it against your forehead as his eyes close and he takes a deep breath to breathe in the scent of you. Then those chocolate brown eyes open again and his gaze fixes on you, and it’s all you can do to remind yourself to breathe.

“Are you sure you don’t want to play with me, Y/N?” Anders says, his voice low enough that the words are meant only for you, and the sound of that voice just makes it all worse. “I even brought you a present.” His body presses against yours a little more now, letting you feel the hard lines of him against you. “A Nazi heart. I cut it out myself. I thought I might give it to you as a token of affection.”

“Yo—” you stumble over the words, pausing to clear your throat and breathe before you continue. Anders looks at you with a mixture of amusement and pure male satisfaction. “You brought me a Nazi heart?”

Anders hums for a moment, tilting his head as if in consideration. “Yes,” he says with a sigh and a small shake of his head. “But now that I’m here, I think I might give you mine instead.” He adjusts his weight above you as he moves one of his hands from beside your head, his bloody hand coming to cup your chin, tilting your head back for him as he leans in ever closer, his thumb tracing small circles near your mouth. “Ja, I like that idea much better.”

If Anders is the predator and you’re the prey, then Lord help you. You’re about to be devoured and not even care. In fact, you silently welcome it as he claims your lips with his own, chapped with the midday heat but delicious as hell as your lips part for him and his body presses fully against yours and you can feel yourself melt under the hard ridges of him, gentle but demanding and growing even more intense when he feels you respond. There are a thousand reasons why you shouldn’t have come on this mission—the violence, the danger, the lack of combat training.

The fact that every time you and Lassen come within ten feet of each other, you can’t seem to keep your hands off each other.

You don’t even notice when Anders moves his other hand and it comes to rest at your waist, or when it begins to hike up underneath your shirt, the heat of his palm trailing over your bare midriff as your body instinctively arches into his touch. You’re not even aware of how far this interaction between the two of you has gone until you faintly hear Freddy groaning from across the room, accompanied just as enthusiastically by Gus.

“Bloody hell, not again.” Freddy’s voice is all exasperation, as if he’s witnessed this scene far too often and isn’t in a hurry to see it again. “We leave you two alone for five minutes and you’re already trying to tear her clothes off. Can’t you at least wait until after the mission is over?”

Anders pulls back from you, just a little, and lets out a low growl at the interruption. You’d probably be amused, if you weren’t still feeling drunk on the kiss—and the feeling of Anders’s hands on you. “I was simply reporting back to the medic for a check-up,” Anders says with ease, the muscles in his arms visibly tensing as he forces himself to take a step back from you.

“Listen, Lassen,” Gus says, escorting in an injured Appleyard, who appears just as put off by this scene as the rest of them. “I understand that the two of you are—” Gus pauses, reaching up to scratch at his beard awkwardly as he glances between you and Anders and you move to adjust your clothes back to normal, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Well, the two of you. But given the circumstances—”

“What circumstances?” Anders asks innocently, as if he hadn’t just been caught feeling you up and firmly about to try and fuck you against the wall.

“You just cut a man’s heart out,” Freddy declares in response, gesturing toward Anders as he helps Appleyard further into the room. “You’re still covered in his blood!”

“Oh?” Anders glances down at himself and acts surprised before he shrugs and looks back at them. “It’s just a little dirt,” he says. “These Nazis, they don’t keep their camps very clean, do they?”

Gus lets out a heavy sigh as he and Freddy help Appleyard move past you and Anders towards one of the beds, although Freddy does shake his head at Anders. “There’s something seriously wrong with you, chap,” he tells Anders.

Anders takes the comment in stride. “Ja, I know,” he says. “Why do you think I came to the sick bay?”

At night is when you see the other side of him, the other smiles that make your blood run cold with a kind of fear that you didn’t even know you could experience. Nighttime at sea can be nearly pitch-black and it never stops being disorienting when you wake to a gently rocking boat and the sound of waves outside, but none of the usual sounds of life. There are no crickets chirping gently outside, no distant voices of people coming or going in the next apartment, or the sounds of war in the background.

No bombs dropping from overhead, the impact of it rocking the ground in a hard concussion that knocks your feet out from you and the air from your lungs. At home, you’d spend these hours crouched under a table, knees to your chest, listening to the building around you shake and feeling yourself go quietly numb in self-preservation until the onslaught was over. It would be minutes, sometimes hours, before you felt yourself slip from that mental retreat, the sounds of someone crying in the next apartment and the smell of smoke slowly bleeding into your consciousness. At sea, there are none of these things.

At sea, you’d think there wasn’t a war on at all.

But wars are not only made up of physical confrontations, and a family you loved desperately isn’t the only kind of casualty.

Anders isn’t in bed. It’s the first full thought that you have when you come fully awake, the blanket still tucked in neatly around you as you cradle his pillow to your chest, surrounded entirely by the scent of Anders Lassen—a mixture of soap, sweat, and something woodsy and distinctly him , as if part of him really was wild, a beast made man. You shove the pillow away and push yourself up in the bunk, looking around for him in the dark and not finding him. It’s disconcerting enough to wake up at sea, but to wake up without Lassen—that’s something else entirely. You’re unsettled as you shove the blankets aside and quietly tiptoe out of the bunk, finger combing your hair back from your face and feeling around for Anders’s spare coat. It takes a little effort to get past the other bunks without disturbing them, even as Freddy, who’s supposed to be on watch, snores loudly enough to wake them all.

You find Anders above deck, his form visible in the moonlight as he handles some of the spare rope, winding and unwinding it around his arm as if in ritual, the movements slow and precise. You can see the moment he realizes that you’re there, the subtle pause, the slight tilt of his head as if he can hear you. Then he keeps going, silently working the rope as you cross the deck to him, shaking his head the closer you get and clicking his tongue. “ Tsk, tsk, tsk . Shouldn’t you be sleeping, elskede? Safe in your bed.” He heaves a dramatic sigh as you come next to him, aware now of his bare chest in the moonlight, the subtle curves of his body as he glances at you. “It’s dangerous to be above deck, all alone, in the middle of the night.”

You pull his coat closed around you and stare at him for a long moment in feigned consideration, tiptoeing around him silently and feeling his gaze on you with every step you take. “Is it, though? It seems rather quiet up here to me. A bit boring, really.” You move around him in a slow circle, appearing as if the two of you have changed places and you’re now the predator while Anders is the prey. “Frankly, I think a little danger would be exciting.”

“You would like some danger?” Anders sounds intrigued as he watches you silently pace around him, your movements slow and relaxed. “You’re not happy with the peace and quiet?”

You shrug, glancing at him, giving him your best unconcerned look. “I like peace and quiet just fine,” you say, sounding bored, pacing softly around him. He doesn’t turn to follow you as you loop behind him, but you can tell from the tension in his shoulders and his back, and the way his head angles in your direction, that he’s aware of your every move. “It’s just that sometimes, when it gets too quiet, I have this irresistible urge to…” You deliberately let your words trail off as you pace behind him, coming out the other side and to the front of him again, still only faintly glancing at him.

You can hear the curiosity and interest as Anders gladly takes the bait, prompting you for more. “You get an urge to what?”

You sigh as if it can’t be helped, moving again, his gaze now firmly following you as you move. “I have this irresistible urge to find a tall, incredibly handsome Danish man and have my wicked ways with him.”

Anders has a small grin when he responds, his voice filled with humor. His gaze only leaves you in the brief moments when you cross behind him to come back out the other side. “So, you want to have your wicked ways with a tall, handsome Danish man.”

You hum in acknowledgement before adding, “Ravish him completely.” You slowly pace in front of him again, although now you decide to play with him a little, pulling the front of his coat open enough to show him a hint of your curves beneath your shirt, letting your hips sway enough to draw his gaze slowly downward.

“I never knew you were interested in such things.” There’s still humor in his voice, but now there’s something else, too—something dark and hungry. “Tell me, what exactly would you do to ravish this man?”

You’re moving to cross behind him again. You can see the muscles in his back and arms growing more taut and when you’re near enough to his side and his head is craning to follow your steps, you give in to the need to reach out and touch him, a gentle ghosting of your fingertips over his arm and trailing softly over his the tight muscles of his back. You hear his breath catch for a fraction of a second as your hand moves lower, skimming softly enough over that one spot where he’s particularly sensitive that it’s more the shifting of the air near his skin, more the anticipation of touch, than anything else. “I think,” you drawl, keeping your touch low on his body as you cross around his other side to the front again. “The first thing I would do is to make him sit for me.” You’re slower now as you move in front of him, your touch against his skin becoming a little more greedy as your hand skims against his waist, the first real skin on skin contact you’ve made. “I’d probably tie him to a chair, make sure that he’s completely helpless for me so that I can touch him however I want to.”

Anders’s lips twitch at the idea of him being completely helpless, but you can see the look in his eyes clearly enough, even in the dark above deck. Wolfish. Hungry. Alert. You drag an open palm over his stomach, letting your hand slip gently under the waistband of his trousers, feeling him clench at that first initial touch before his body relaxes into the touch. “And how,” Anders prompts when you don’t immediately continue, his voice heavy with lust, “would you want to touch him?”

You’re passing around him again, but you’ve been moving in smaller and smaller circles with each new pass, now so close to him that you let the sleeve of your coat brush his arm, your hand never leaving his body. He doesn’t turn his head to track your movements now, barely even moving at all, seemingly content to just let you touch him. You lick at lips that are suddenly dry, the air between the two of you so warm that the coat is suddenly hot, too hot . “First, I would run my hands over his body and feel every inch of him.” You can hear the change in your own voice at your arousal, your skin too sensitive as your nipples pebble against your shirt, heat pooling between your thighs. “I’d follow all the cords of his muscle,” you tell him, letting your palm follow the lines and cords of his body underneath it, feeling his body tense and hot as he forces himself to take slow, steady breaths. “And I'd find all the places where he’s sensitive,” you pause and deliberately ghost your fingers over that spot on his back, near his left hip, hearing his breath hitch as he stands deathly still for you, “and all the ways I can touch him to make him shiver.” Anders is still, so very still, as you move around him now. “And when I've decided that he’s ready…” You're around his front, circling around him again. “And he can't take me touching him anymore…” You pause behind him, leaning your body flush against his back so he can feel the shape of you through his coat, and standing on your toes to lean close to his neck. You let your nose brush against him before gently licking a hot stripe on his neck near his ear. “ I would use my mouth instead .”

Anders trembles–all six feet of him, the bear of a man, the Danish hammer, practically a modern day viking–fucking trembles at you whispering in his ear and the feel of your tongue on his skin, your breath hot. So fucking hot that you're burning up in the coat, that Anders’s body is a giant furnace, that the night air is like ice against your face but you're not aware of it because your body is on fire with need. You swallow against your own desire, your own need to stop teasing him and just let Anders take you right there, and instead press one kiss, then another, on his neck. You nuzzle there for a long moment before moving onto his shoulder and letting your teeth scrape over him in a small, sucking kiss. He’s so tense underneath you, so taut that you'd think he might snap, but god– god –how you want him to snap.

To lose all his control…to be the one to make him lose control. You could get drunk on that power alone.

You rest your body against his back, angled enough to his side that you can reach around him and slip a hand into the band of his trousers. Anders practically growls as your hand explores the vee of his chest, moving gently over his hip, teasing slowly toward his cock. He’s already hard when you touch him, the first hint of your fingers on his cock making him audibly pant as you tease near the base. “I would make him wait a very long time,” you say against his shoulder, letting the hot wet of your breath settle there, “before I open his trousers and touch his cock like this.” You stroke over the hard length of him, straining against the material of his pants, teasing your fingers over the tip as you feel his body practically vibrating against you. “But when I do…” You ease your hand around him, drawing it back up the shaft as you hear him bite back a moan. “I'd take him in my mouth…” Another long stroke upward. His back is straight against your chest and you'd swear you could feel his heart pounding as you touch him. “And I’d taste him as long as I want to…” You pause to let him feel your tongue against his skin again, tasting sweat and the salt of the sea air on him, drawing the moment out to let him imagine your tongue on his cock. “And I wouldn't let him cum until he begged me for it.”

You're about to continue the torture, to stroke your hand down the underside of his cock, teasing his balls softly before stroking downward, when you're surprised a hand gripping your wrist. You almost jump in surprise at the sudden contact, the break in the scene, the strength of his hand around your wrist as he keeps you in an unforgiving hold. You glance up at Anders to see his jaw hard and his nostrils flared as he swallows and tries to maintain his control. “It's not nice to tease, min skat.” His voice is a growl, eyes closed tightly. Seconds from breaking.

“You tease me all the time,” you reply, letting him feel you smirk against his shoulder. “My turn is long overdue. Don't you think?”

Anders doesn't let go of your hand and for a brief moment, you think that he's not going to let you continue, but when he doesn't move you away from him, either, you decide to try again. You move carefully to his front, meeting his dark gaze and holding it as you slowly put a hand to his chest and begin to push him back. Anders doesn't fight you, letting you direct his heavy body back slowly, one small step at a time, his hand never leaving your wrist and your hand never leaving his chest. It's like a dance, the two of you moving with a slow precision until the back of his legs meet a trunk of supplies and you stop pushing him. The two of you stand still, gazing at each other, as you wait to see what happens next, if Anders will let this little scene continue or not.

His thumb begins to move gently against your wrist, circling your pulse point. “No ropes, elskede,” Anders says, his voice barely audible. “No restraints.”

There’s silence between you two for what feels like an eternity, even though it must only be a few minutes. Waves rock the boat gently, a soft breeze caresses overheated skin. A look, an understanding, passes between you and Anders. Because restraints aren’t safe above the deck, when he’s meant to be keeping watch—to be keeping you safe. 

Because you don’t know the whole story, but just as you have your demons, Anders has his, too.

You bite your bottom lip and shrug. “I don’t need to tie you up to have you at my mercy.”

A quirk of his lips, slipping into a smirk. You can see the way the humor and warmth reaches his eyes, even in the darkness. His grip on your wrist tightens imperceptibly, his thumb pausing on your pulse, on the very beating of your heart—a heart that belongs entirely to him. The water sounds like the blood rushing in your ears, quiet and deafening all at once. “Ja,” he agrees then. “That is true.”

Reluctantly, Anders lets go of your wrist. 

Reluctantly, you pull your hand from his pants, but it’s only a temporary retreat. Anders doesn’t resist, not even a little, when you gently push him backwards and he sits down on the trunk, his back rigid as he gazes at you. He waits patiently, watching you with an intensity that sends a fresh wave of heat through your body where you’re standing in front of him, moving to undo his pants. You pull his cock free, watching his lips part as he exhales a moan at the touch of your hand and the cool night air. His body responds without any conscious thought as you grip him tightly and begin to move your hand up and down, stroking his cock with long, even motions that leave him nearly panting. 

You’re about to get on your knees when Anders breaks the scene once more, taking hold of your shoulder, although his grip is less firm this time. “No.”

Your eyebrows go up as you pause, your body frozen. “No?” You half wonder what you’ve done wrong, if there’s some unknown line that you’ve somehow crossed, but Anders shakes his head with a small smile, something surprisingly soft and tender, given the circumstances. 

“I want you.”

God. God above . Have there ever been three more beautiful words in the English language? Have there ever been three more perfect words, more exciting or fulfilling words, than those?

You don’t think so. How could anything else possibly compare to the sound of Anders Lassen saying that he wants you?

“I thought I was in charge.” Not that you’ll complain, not really. Being with Anders is being with Anders, no matter what form it takes.

Then Anders says something even more surprising, even more beautiful or enticing. “Please, Y/N. Let me have you.” 

Please . Let me have you .

You’re too stunned to respond immediately, and just when you’re about to recover, just when you’re about to try and rewrite this little script you’d figured out in your head when you woke up without Anders in your bed and found him restlessly adjusting the ropes above deck, Anders continues being Anders…perfect, beautiful, strong, and knows how to play you like a fucking violin, Anders Lassen. “Have pity on a poor, weak Danish man like myself,” he says, mouth turning up into that smartass grin of his, the one you’re never certain if you want to kiss or slap off of him. “ Ravish me .”

You try, really fucking try , not to laugh at the ridiculousness of your own words. Of the whole scenario, really. Poor, weak Anders Lassen. Conquered by you . At your mercy. Being ravished on the deck of a boat with four other men on board, sleeping, while you travel to a Nazi infested destination on a mission to save England and…and…

Well. “I suppose,” you begin, drawing the words out, making a show of pretending to consider his request, “you did beg for mercy.” You watch as Anders nods enthusiastically.

“Ja, yes. Mercy.”

“And what kind of person would I be if I ignored such heartfelt pleas as those?” You move to shrug out of his coat, letting it fall to the floor and leaving you in only the big nightshirt you’d worn to bed earlier. 

“Not a very good one,” Anders answers you. His hands come to rest on your thighs, just above the knees, but as with all things with Anders, nothing is ever static for very long. He’s feeling up the length of your thighs before you’re even positioned where you want to be, cupping the curves of your ass with his big palms and finding the edges of your panties. “Not a very good one at all.”

“And you do owe me for that little scene you made earlier.” You nearly jump when you feel Anders’s hands slipping under the sides of your panties and beginning to tug them down. “When you knew the others were coming and still pinned me to the wall.”

“ Oh .” It sounds like a moan when Anders makes the sound, letting your panties fall to the floor and gently nudging your legs apart. “Yes. That was very bad of me.” You gasp when you feel his big, warm hand between your thighs, cupping your cunt with a possessiveness that’s impossible to ignore. “I should’ve finished what I started instead of making you wait for me to take you.” He strokes over you softly, petting your folds in an easy move that leaves you leaning forward against him as he plays with your cunt. “I definitely deserve to be punished for that one.” He explores your slit for a long moment, burying a finger inside of you as your hands close tightly over his shoulders and you lean into his neck, his mouth at your ear now. “Would you like to punish me, Y/N?” He nips at the shell of your ear as he moves to stroke wet fingers over your clit and your mouth opens to moan but no sound comes out. “Would you like to make me finish what I started earlier and have me fuck you right here, for anyone to see?”

It’s a twist. Suddenly, Anders is in control again, but it doesn’t matter. Not when he’s touching you like that. Not when his voice is that deep and low in your ear. Not when he’s saying what he’s saying.

“ Should I make you scream so the others can hear us? ”

In the end, it’s easy— far too easy —for Anders to make you come undone. His finger on your clit, his voice in your ear, one hand slipping under your nightshirt and trailing up your chest, to the underside of your breast, skimming over a sensitive nipple, hot to the touch and too cold from the breeze. A complete sensory overload that’s unyielding and all-consuming.

“ You’re so wet for me, allerkæreste. ”

It’s harder and harder to concentrate. Too much—it’s just far too much. You’re sinking against Anders, as if you were two halves of one being, as if your body just realized that you’ve always belonged there and it never wants to be parted from him again. His hand cups your breast, squeezes, teasing the nipple. He plays with your clit, merciless in his touch. Your fingers dig into his shoulders.

Anders doesn’t fucking care.

He never does.

“ Do you know how badly I want you right now? ” His nose nuzzles against your face, his eyelashes tickling your cheek. Your body becomes liquid. “ Du betyder så meget for mig .”

You don’t scream when you cum. You barely make any noise at all. As much as Anders likes to tease you, he knows you’re not that comfortable with the others knowing—and hearing—so much of your private time together. But you do practically fall into his lap, your legs trembling and too unsteady to keep yourself upright. You do look up at Anders to see him gazing down at you with that smartass grin of his, looking for all the world like the cat that ate the canary, like he just said some ultimate truth that you’re not privy to because you don’t speak Danish and this little game that you started no longer belongs to you.

Which, to be completely fair, is true. Whatever Anders said, you’ll never know—you don’t speak Danish and he doesn’t give you the chance to ask before he’s nudging you onto his lap, opening your legs to straddle his waist. By the time he’s tugging at your nightshirt and you’re pulling it over your head to discard alongside the rest of your clothes, the question of whatever he said is so far from your mind that if you ever try to bring it up again, Anders will probably just feign ignorance. 

And you may have started this game between you, but it belongs to Anders as his hands move over your now naked body, covered in goosebumps from the cool air and arousal. In fact, you have no chance whatsoever to recover the game as his big hands close around your hips and he helps you adjust on his lap, angling yourself into the right position above his cock so that inch by delicious inch, you can sink down onto him. In the haze of pleasure that quickly envelopes you, one thing is absolutely clear.

You belong to Anders Lassen, body and soul. Whatever becomes of you two on this ridiculous mission, in this impossible war, in a life that’s sure to be filled with heartbreak, Anders will always be your true north. Nothing will ever change that.

“ Fuck .” It’s a guttural moan of a word that’s so uncharacteristic for Anders that you can’t help but laugh, burying your face in his neck and stroking his chest with your hands. “Are you laughing at me?” Anders tries to sound threatening, but in the context of the moment, it drags another round of laughter from you as you shake your head. “You shouldn’t laugh at the Danish Hammer, you know. It’s not a wis—”

You can’t help yourself, cutting his words off with a kiss and holding onto his shoulders for dear life as you start to move against him, grinding your hips against his and sliding your body to fill yourself up with his cock again, and again, and again . It’s everything, that feeling of him inside of you. His hands on your hips as you rock against him. Your hands as you move to cup his face and stop the kiss so that you can look at him, just look at him as you take him there, on the deck, in the darkness.

You may not understand Danish, but you know that look. The one that’s reserved only for you, that says everything necessary without Anders having to utter a single word. 

He can own the game. He can have whatever he wants. Anything—and you’ll gladly give it.

But a perfect moment, by definition, can only last for a moment. Eventually, it has to end. You feel your body clenching around him, your toes curling, and Anders can tell how close you are. When your movements start to slow, the rhythm of your bodies moving with each other starts to slip, his hands grip your hips more tightly and those bulky arms of his start to pick up the slack, pushing you effortlessly closer and closer to the edge. You’re vaguely aware of someone panting, of soft moans and whimpers that sound like you. Your forehead falls against Anders’s and your eyes drift closed, and just as the climax starts to hit you, just as your mouth is falling open with what would surely be an embarrassingly loud noise that would reach down into the cabin where the others are sleeping, Anders kisses you and drowns out the sound.

Although you doubt anything could’ve silenced the noise he makes when he cums inside you. The two of you are going to hear about this endlessly tomorrow.

Which is just fine with you, because tomorrow is not tonight, and tonight, you can wrap your arms around Anders’s neck and settle into his lap with his coat around you while the two of you keep watch. You’re leaning against his chest and half watching the night sky, trying not to feel the tug of sleep as you look back at him. There’s been something about Anders today, something that’s been bothering him. You could tell when he came back to the boat earlier.

You could see it when you came above deck.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” The question is greeted only by the night air and the crest of waves against the side of the boat. Anders stills when he hears it, but he doesn’t reply, choosing instead to close his coat around you more tightly and pull your body closer to his. He shakes his head and glances down at you from the corner of his eyes.

“It’s time to sleep, min skat.” His lips quirk up into that smirk. God, how you love that smirk. “I know that you’re tired.”

You are tired. Your eyes are heavy. You were exhausted by the time you climbed into bed with Anders earlier and you fell into an easy sleep beside him within minutes, disturbed only by sensing that he was no longer beside you. Whatever energy you’d managed to recover is completely spent after what just happened.

“Did you really cut a man’s heart out?” The question is out before you can stop it, impossibly small against the great weight of the sea and the war and the heaviness you recognize in Anders’s shoulders, as if the entire world were resting there. The smirk disappears so quickly as Anders’s face darkens that you’d almost wonder if it had ever been there at all, if a man filled with the sort of torment and pain you see then could be capable of such a light expression.

It feels like hours before he finally responds, barely loud enough to be heard over the water. “Yes.”

You reach up and stroke your knuckles over his cheek, your thumb on his chin. “Why would you do that?”

There’s no answer, just a smile so grim that it chills you to the bone, a new sense of fear so deep in your soul that you can’t even put words to it. That you’re not ready to think about or acknowledge at all. Then the smile slips and Anders just looks tired, so fucking tired.

You fall asleep in his arms, listening to the sound of the waves, the creaking of wood as the boat rocks gently, the steady sound of Anders breathing. He doesn’t answer you. You don’t demand an answer. 

Maybe some questions just don’t have any answers.

Sometime in the night, however, Anders does look down at you and whisper to your sleeping form. “ Du giver mig lyst til at være en bedre mand .” But even if you could hear it, you don’t speak Danish, and Anders isn’t ready to say the words in English. 

He’s not sure if he ever will be.

[creedslove]

I've got one:

Established relationship between Javier Peña and f!reader

She's looking for some Halloween stuff and finds some Javi's porn magazines with some girls wearing costumes (can be cheerleader, cat or anything interesting that you think).

She doesn't say a thing and wears it to a party that Connie and Steve are throwing. Javier will be INSANE, reader provoking him all kinds of things, quickie at the party and then Javier punishes her REALLY FUCKING GOOD (overstimulation).

Javier Peña x f!reader

A/N: bestie it's been two days and I'm still barking like a bitch in heat over this request honestly I'm so tired of being Javier Peña's slut (actually I'm not xD)

• you were sure there were still Halloween props from the year before as you went through the boxes in the small storage room in his apartment

• you couldn't complain, Javi was very organized and unlike most male apartments, his was always neat and it was easy to find stuff and you clearly remembered asking him to put away the stuff you both had used the year before

• Connie and Steve had planned on throwing a Halloween party and even if Javier resisted putting on a costume, you always liked to dress up

• so fumbling across the room to find your stuff, you stomped on a box you didn't remember seeing before

• so you opened it to find what was inside

"oh Javi..."

• you mumbled to yourself the moment you found his stash of porn magazines; you knew Javi enjoyed sex, but it hadn't really crossed your mind he could enjoy porn until that moment and just then you realized how naive you really were

• you were caught by your curiosity and you decided to take a closer look at the magazines, feeling a mix of embarrassment, amusement and shock as you learned more about your boyfriend's hidden kinks

• you were relieved he was just into good old fashion cheesy porn and nothing gross or bizarre, but you couldn't help noticing he had many different issues of magazines starring a certain... Well, model... Wearing nothing but a slutty kitten costume and it made you realize that maybe Javi way into it

• as you went through magazine after magazine you had a brilliant idea and suddenly the Halloween props you were after didn't matter any longer, after all, you had just found out your ideal costume for the party

• you had memorized pretty well the colors and fabrics you would need for the costume and it was fairly easy for you to find it: one trip to the sex shop downtown and you managed to find it all

• the second step of your plan was actually pretty simple: you would tell Javi to go straight to the party so you would meet him there by giving him some shitty excuse saying you'd work until late

• because you just knew you wouldn't be able to leave your apartment if he saw you in that outfit before the party: either for being too turned on or just straight up jealous of you

• so when Javi got to the party, it was fairly crowded and he hadn't even taken his leather jacket and sunglasses off he was just checking things out and looking for you, hoping you wouldn't take too long to arrive and therefore you both wouldn't have to spend too long at the party

• he had nothing against parties, but he could think of several more interesting activities to do with you than to stand there among other people he didn't really care about

• he grabbed a drink and greeted some people, thinking of going after you at your shared apartment when he stopped dead on his tracks at the sight of you

• Javi took off his sunglasses and squinted his eyes, wanting to see if you were really looking like that or if he was just hallucinating

• but there you were: standing the sexiest he's ever seen in a slutty kitten costume, exactly like all those porn magazines that kept him company during lonely times

• he walked to you without a single word, gripping your arm and pulling you to him, your bodies bumping into each other's

"what is this about? This costume?"

• he asks and places his hand on his waist and looks at you, his breathing was accelerated and he looked around not wanting anyone taking peeks at you

• you chuckled and wrapped your arms around his shoulder, caressing his cheek and pecking his lips so slightly, just a faint kiss

"well, I found some inspiration in your closet, you didn't like it?"

• you frowned disappointed but he shook his head, pulling you closer

"you shouldn't have done that, not in front of everyone, you wanted to be my kitten? You should've done it for me only"

• you smirked, the way he was clearly bothered and agitated sent a pool of arousal down your core as the sexy costume made you feel so bold and confident, you simply took your hand to his crotch, catching him by surprise as you squeezed him making Javi jump with the shock and surprise

"Yeah? And how mad at me are you exactly?"

"I'll show you how mad I am"

• Javi dragged you to the bathroom, locking the two of you up and making sure to shove his fingers into your panties; he rubbed and teased you, fingering your tight pussy, seeing how wet you were for him and kissing and nibbling your neck

• it didn't take very long for Javi to lift your ridiculously short skirt and move your panties to the side, getting his cock out and rubbing himself in front of you, before getting into you and loving how you tightened around him

• his hand over your mouth so he would muffle your sounds of moans and plead as he fucked you fast and intensely

• he released his load into you, not letting you cum, as he wanted you so worked up for him

• then, he helped you clean up and sent you to the party, where you couldn't stay longer, as you were so needy for his touch

• you begged him to go home, and he agreed, seeing you were at the right point where he wanted you to be: begging for his cock

• you both went back to your apartment and spent the night together, Javier making all of his dirtiest kitten fantasies coming true

____

[raspberry-dounut]

hihihi idk if requests are open but please more fizzmodeus stuff I've read the other one like 10 times already please they're taking over my brain 😭😭😭🙏/nf

PINKY PROMISES (FIZZAROLLI/ASMODEUS)

[TW: mention of kidnapping and that jazz that happened in the episode… and also, this is a tickle fic, so if this made its way into the main tags somehow, then I suggest you don’t read it if you’re not into that stuff XD]

“You know I worry about you…”

"I know,” The demon said curtly “I know, but Oz- I’m tough! I’m fine, really! It’s just a few scrapes…”

Fizzarolli didn't bother to stop his embrace and instead just leaned on him, taking a moment to enjoy the contact and soak up some of that warmth. His bones ached- and the lie he was telling himself was already fraying at the edges. He was nowhere near fine.

“I understand that but—“ Asmodeus attempted to bite his tongue, feathers prickling upwards with a suppressed hiss; he was irate. “Y-You’re… You’re not immortal, Fizzarolli!!”

The demon’s gaze shifted to his partner, curious if he'd managed to get under the sin’s tough skin. He knew the bigger demon was right- he wasn’t immortal. Even as he spoke, he grimaced as he tried to move his shoulder; it sent a sharp pain through his bones, as if something was broken. He groaned, his body not allowing him to ignore the ache for much longer.

“You’re so reckless, Fizz! I—“ Asmodeus let a sigh escape his lips, exasperation easing into his shoulders as he gestured around himself. “You frustrate me sometimes!”

Squinting at him, Fizzarolli tried to follow his thinking, unsure of whatever point he was trying to make before he commented hesitantly as the silence dragged on “um… Can I go now?”

“FIZZ!!” he finally snapped which prompted Fizzarolli to withdraw his claws. Asmodeus plopping himself onto the edge of the bed without a loud creak, arms crossed.

“Do you have any idea what happened to you?! Were you not present at your own kidnapping?!” He asked with venom, words dripping with grief and guilt. “I- I could’ve lost you!! What would I have done if you’d died, huh?! Do you think I would have just… moved on?!”

“I-I’m sorry…” Fizzarolli hung his head in shame, his eyes filling with tears. He was already in enough pain, but now his heart hurt just as much. “I didn’t think- I thought it would pan out better, I… there a bunch of different factors, and I… there was a lot on my mind, I met an old… I got distracted and I—“

Words failed him as he croaked helplessly. He knew he'd been stupid, he didn't have to be told. He could have died, and all Asmodeus would have been left with were a bunch of distant memories.

He couldn’t say anything, his head was low, and he was focused on keeping the tears back. Even so, he felt a soft hand on his shoulder.

“Just listen to me next time, please.” His voice was soothing, as comforting as his eyes. He pulled the demon close, so that they were curled together on the bed as he pressed his lips against the top of his partner’s head. “You’re not as invincible as you think- I know you overestimate yourself, but please; think rationally sometimes!”

“…does this mean I’m not in trouble?”

Asmodeus laughed “No. You’re still getting punished.”

"Punished? For what?!" Fizz pulled away to face Asmodeus head-on, eyebrows shooting upwards, and his expression was one that was caught in a loop of shock and confusion. “What’re you gonna do, ground me?! Just wait until I get my lawyer on this!”

“That was the first thing on my mind,” The rooster said in a joking tone, his voice still stern but there was a smirk on his face that grew with Fizzarolli's reply. It was as if he’d expected this kind of response, or something akin to it. Feathered paws moved to rest idly on the demon’s scarred belly, and that was hint enough.

"Oh no. You can't be serious." He protested, a small whine forming on his lips that he quickly attempted (and failed) to disguise.

“Hmmm? I’m sure you’ll learn your lesson this way~ and I don’t see it fit to use any sort of ‘force’ on you.” The larger demon said, with a playful wink as he grabbed Fizz’s wrists with one hand and pinned them swiftly but gently down to the mattress. He could only snicker and offer Fizzarolli a shit-eating grin as his fingertips danced up and down his sides.

“Nohahahahaa!! That’s no fair!!” He squealed out and recoiled back- it was a flurry of giggles as Fizz’s own body betrayed him and gave his partner the reaction he knew he wanted.

“Hmmmm? You’re laughing too much, darling. You might wanna speak up~”

“Y-yohou're being so meeheeheean!!” He squealed and turned over. “You-!! I’m gohohohohoanna fucking kihihihihill you—“

It was an empty promise, meant more to prompt Asmodeus than to reflect on himself.

“Mhm~ I’m sure you will.” Asmodeus giggled, feathered beak nuzzling into his partner’s tummy, which made him buck instinctively.

“I’m- I'm sorreeeheeheeheehee!!”

“Sorry for what, hmmm?”

“Fohohohor- for doubting you-!!”

“And you promise to let me send an escort to at least check on you?” Asmodeus asked, mock-thought in his expression as he tapped his fluffy chin.

“Yehehehees, yes! Anything!!” Fizz squeaked as his partner squeezed his hips.

“Hmmm… Good, good! I think you’ve learnt your lesson.” And with that, he finally let up his tickle attack.

He chuckled, watching the tension leave Fizzarolli in an instant. After giving his partner a moment to catch his breath- he turned over, his long plait of feathers coming to rest alongside Fizz's chest while his beak gave him an affectionate peck.

"I hope that taught you a lesson about running off on your own.” Asmodeus said, nuzzling his beak into him. “Next time I won’t be so merciful~”

He winked- a clear indication that to Fizz of where his mind was at. They were content to lay with together as their bodies slowly cooled after the stress-filled night.

“I know- I promise I won’t do it again! I’ll listen to you more.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

[sealixirfairytales]

So… He's from our world, around the victorian area… or so it seems.

Bram is around 16 or 19, nobody is sure of his age. He's actually born in twisted Wonderland and more importantly, in the Island of Woe, as his parents are both STYX's scientists.

But as a baby, only a month old, his parents remarked he seemed to absorb blot around him, like if he was a human magistone. Scared, they sealed any magic in him through some experiment for some time before throwing him into a random experimental portal because even with sealed magic, he was absorbing blot, just slower. Bram appeared in our world, right into the sea. (reason why he absorbe blot at the very end of this post)

But Bram actually is blessed with an incredible luck so as a little baby of barely 6 months, he survived by miracle and ended up on a flourished jungle island, untouched by humans.

He have been found by a female tiger. The "ruler" of the island, kind off. Thanks to his luck blessing, she decided to adopt him instead of eating him. So she raised him.

Bram is then totally wild and never saw another human. The closest were the monkeys… but as "a tiger" he just ate them. Bram's "father" didn't wanted him and tried to eat him, but his mother killed him to protect her cub. The large scar on his torso is due to his "father" attack.

Of course lots of other accidents. The bite on his thigh is from a crocodile. The large scar on his calf is because he felt and got this place pierced by a branche. He have cuts, bites and scratches kind of everywhere.

He also have a dark "scar" in his back, but it's actually the seal of his magic.

Bram love pretty colors and since he have seen parrots decorating their plumage with leaves or other feathers, he's doing the same by putting pretty flowers in his hairs. He loves flowers. DO NOT touch his flowers. He will bite.

Also, of course, he live completely naked and walking on all four

When he was around 11, his mom died. She wasn't killed. She was just already 17 (tigers lives usually between 10 and 15 years old, some rare case have been observed where they lived up to 26) So Bram lived alone since.

And suddenly… the mirror summoned him in another world…or more like back to his original world…

here come the day he's summoned to Twisted wonderland.

No need to say, he was shocked.

Need to know, in his head, he is a tiger. His mother just said he's "a little different" but he's "still a tiger".

So, I base it more like the manga for his arrival. He get out of the coffin when everyone is already here. And by himself. And without the ceremonial robe. So in his case, he's still naked.

I think you can imagine, when he woke up locked in a box, he panicked, and hit and struggled until he managed to open the lid of the coffin. When he see all the students and staff around him -human- he step back and hiss… yep, he will just act like a cat… more dangerous.

The staff try to calm him but nothing work. Until, recognizing how he act, Trein have the good idea to send Lucius. Bram can talk to animal. Howver, the animal language the mages use to talk to animal too don't work with Bram.

So thanks to Lucius, they learn that the naked kid in front of them think he's a tiger because he have been raised by one. After some tribulation, seing all the scars and how he act, the staff refuse to just send him back (and the mirror say he can't, anyway). Crewel decide to adopt him. And since I ship crewel and Crowley, Crowley adopt him too.

With Lucius help they slowly makes him understand they're not going to hurt him and Crewel manage to get him and carry him. Bram snuggle into his coat, reminding him of his mother fur, and purr. Lucius translate, saying the purr correspond to "mom" and Crewel just accept his fate XD

When he sees Grim, Bram try to hunt him, even catch him in his mouth XD Thanks the seven, the staff manage to makes him let go. Sam's little shadow friend bring a whole ham for Bram instead.

So they try to dress him… have you tried to dress a cat? No need to say, they can't. They just managed to pass him a boxer and a shirt barely buttoned. (the image)

Of course he also can't talk, he growl and hiss. First thing he will try to say will be his name, like "brrrr…. rraa… bbrrmmm… nrrr…. bbraaam".

Slowly, he start saying some words and even try to walk on two legs. then, you know the story… with some changes, of course. Crowley is "Da" and Crewel is "Ma"

About the overblots…. well he just jump on the phantom and bite it. And that's what he do in every fight, tiger style XD

Another thing… he will keep picking flower and put it im his hair but also try to put it in others hair. It's his love language.

~~~~

Now, about the fact he absorbe blot. It's due to his signature spell. I got that idea with a dream about another MC (Xia, from my horror short story "The orphanage) but it fit Bram too.

So here is his signature spell :

"From the shadows to my call, gather and empower my rise; Abyssal Maw!"

"Abyssal Maw" makes him enter into a controlled overblot, where he still have his mind clear and can command the phantom (see the phantom as the Horned king). Due to that, instead of creating blot when he use magic, he is using blot. He absorbe blot around him because for him blot is like a fuel, not a waste. Since it was way too OP (I mean… most of signature spell are kind of OP, did you see Malleus'??) I had to makes some adjustement compared to the original dream.

So, when he don't get enough blot, he will feel weak and tired. Like if you haven't eat or sleep for days. And there is also a problem if he absorb too much.

Nope, he won't enter into a real overblot if he absorbe too much blot… but he will end up in a drunken-like stat. Will be really cuddle and completely out. Not able to think or react, dizzy and will totally faint after a while. That can be really dangerous if he's into a battle.

Of course he will be able later to control his blot absorption, but that will take time. And obviously, he absorbe a lot of blot during the other's overblot. Slowly, because his magic is sealed.

But all this is only if they find a way to break the seal.

[melkyt]

Been crying alot about the idea of the immortality surgery in the context of LawLu.

The vibes are immaculate for the angst xd

Say the side effect of the immortality surgery is that while Luffy exists forever, Law's soul is tied to his existence.

Say maybe Luffy's death was not some dramatic thing that happened in battle, no, he just used up the last of his life force by using the gears too often, and it presented itself as a disease sometime in his late twenties.

Law has gotten used to having him around, having a semblance of a family together, picking up orphan kids here and there. Luffy still goes on adventures and travels the world, but he always comes back.

Then he stops going out as he gets sick, on some days he can't even get out of bed.

Law hates watching the man he loves, the man who burns so brightly wither away. So despite his promise, Law can't do it. He does the surgery.

Luffy finds him in the garden, seemingly asleep, peaceful, and gone. His heart shatters and it takes weeks for him to recover, but eventually, he manages to keep going, as he has things to keep going for. Their children, his crew.

He does not know that he is immortal, and does not know what Law did until everyone starts dying around him.

Luffy slowly breaks as he loses everything, everyone he loves. It's when the last of his mortal friends dies, Zoro, who was determined to not go before Luffy, not to leave him alone.

That is when Luffy decides that he has had enough life. That he wants to be with everyone again. Brook once told him that immortality can be a curse. It's worse. Brook is still alive and they sometimes talk, the only thing that keeps Luffy's sanity together as the years pass and stop having any meaning.

He travels the world, looking for a way to break the curse, learning more than he has in years of adventure, still keeping his smile and finding joy but it gets harder, the more things seem to repeat. The world begins to feel small, and sometimes he still imagines Law or his crew being around. The hallucinations do not make life easier.

So when he sees a man who looks and sounds exactly like Law on the island where Law was once born. He brushes it off as another hallucination. "Can't get enough of me, huh Traffy? It's the third time this week" He sighs, running a finger over the rim of his glass.

The man just stares in something akin to shock. He blinks as if not quite believing his eyes.

Luffy tilts his head. The hallucinations usually have some witty rebuke. They don't just stare.

"Luffy?" The man's voice is shaky, he stumbles back, breath coming in quick huffs. "How did I..." Law grabs his head as a splitting headache brings memories with it.

It's Luffy's turn to stare in disbelief. It's been hundreds of years, he may come by the place once in awhile, this is the island where Law was born, its familiar, the little things that never change but he never expected to see the man again. "Don't joke like that" Voice low, a threat on his lips. "Traffy's dead"

"I, yes." The man's knuckles are white around his whiskey glass. "I was... I do... How am I here Luffy?

"If you're fake, I'm gonna kill you" Luffy gingerly approaches, poking the man on the arm. "My hallucinations usually don't feel like nothing"

"Hallucinations? Are there side effects to the surgery?" Law gets over some of his confusion, placing his hands on either side of Luffy's face, feeling his pulse. It beats like a drum, as it has since he awakened Nika. "Weird but normal for you"

Luffy chuckles "Only Traffy would go all doctor mode right now" he wraps both arms around Law, "I'm not letting you go this time." Now that's a promise he will not let either of them break, no matter what.

Luffy uses his willpower and gear 5 to keep Law alive out of determination and to spite whatever force tries to take him.

[thelunarfairy]

The active Hanako and the passive Amane

One of the things I noticed while paying attention to Hanako is how hard he tries to hide his reactions when he is more passive.

So you ask me, what do you mean, passive?

The active Hanako, the one who flirts with Nene as if it were something silly, not so important, a joke that makes him feel considerably confident, even if he gets dumped.

He's in control here, and he believes so little that his flirtations will have an effect that when it actually happens he's shocked.

Then we have Amane, the passive. The one who receives the flirting, who doesn't know exactly how to act, who gets nervous, who blushes and tries at all times to contain himself and hide. He weakens a lot when she takes active action, when she suddenly kisses him, or tells him that she likes him.

Look at the clearest example of this

here she kisses him on the cheek, we can see her face is still red

here he takes the action, he kisses her, there is no red face here.

He holds back so much that I wonder how much he can take, how much longer will he hold back to be honest?

He holds back from kissing her (something he avoided a few times even though he had the chance), he holds back from confessing that he's jealous directly, he holds back from saying that he likes her in the same way. It's as if he's tied down by his own pride.

Or fear, shame

It's cute how she can destabilize him like that XD

I know that he hides his feelings not only out of shame, but because he is aware that their relationship is very difficult to happen, he is a ghost and a murderer, whose guilt makes him believe that he does not deserve to receive love, to be happy at all. side of the person you love, even if you really want it. He believes he doesn't deserve it (even though there is a possibility of them being together)

But for someone who held back so much, he couldn't hold back any longer… the kiss finally came

and....

What is wrong with me?

I love how he manages to show the intensity with which he likes her, through his look, his touch, his attitudes, everything about him screams how much he likes her, how much he desires her.

It seems that he can no longer betray his heart as much as he used to. There will still be a moment when he can no longer hold back and will tell her everything honestly, we just don't know when.

[poisonedprose]

Hi!

I recently found your blog and I have to say that I really love it.

It's impressive to me the way you manage to capture the words in the stories you've created, I really would love to have the skill you have but I suck at writing xd.

I also checked on your profile that you have open requests, I wanted to request a Su Hyeok story from "All of us Are Dead", since I saw the character I was literally crushed and to my surprise there isn't much material about him here on Tumblr, it could be something romantic when they are on the rooftop of the school after escaping the music room and Su-Hyeok wants to talk to Y/N and ends up proposing, it's a scenario I've had in my mind for a while and I would really look forward to you writing it.

Obviously no pressure or anything like that, take as much time as you need, I hope you're well and thank you for the good time I have reading what you write. ❤️❤️

₊˚✧ marry had a little lamb

su-hyeok lee x gn!reader

warnings: none that i can think of

masterlist

AN: youre so sweet :(( it really means so much to me so i hope you like this ! ily /p (and im so sorry for such a long wait! i wasn't feeling very well this week but i hope the wait was worth it)<;3

You were still trying to catch your breath when Su-hyeok pulled you to the side. "Are you okay?" He asked with concern written all over his face. "Yeah, I mean, I think so." You smiled to try and ease his worries. His eyes quickly scanned over your body to make sure there were no visible bite marks.

"I'm fine, I promise." You take his face in your hands, your eyes meeting each other's gaze. He nodded, but he still scanned every last inch of you that was visible to him. "Sorry, sorry. I just.." He trailed off, his mind racing and his eyes wandering to the group who seemed to just be standing around. He turned back to you, a glimmering look in his eyes.

You looked up at him. "You just.." You encourage him, trying to get to the very center of his mind. He licked his lips before reaching his hand into his back pocket. You cock your head slightly, confused at to what he could possibly be reaching into his pocket for. He glances at the group one more time before pulling a little black box out of his pocket.

"I know this probably isn't the best place to do this and I don't really have anything to say planned but I just really really love you, Y/N. And when we get out of all this I want to be your husband." He opened the box, revealing a ring inside. You were shocked, your words running dry. You examined the ring in the box, looking back up at Su-hyeok with visible shock.

Even in these horrid times, he still finds a way to make a smile creep onto your face. "Oh, my god." You gasp quietly, mostly to yourself. "Whaddya say? Wanna be stuck with me forever?" He smiled and you couldn't say no. "Yes, a thousand times, yes!" He smiles at your responses and takes the ring out of the box and places it on your finger. You take a second to admire the ring before wrapping Su-hyeok in your arms.

You laughed in your head at his choice of place and time but it made it even more special in it's own sick way. "I love you." You whispered in his ear and he couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of joy that filled his chest when the words left your tongue. "I love you." He returned the phrase, leaving a kiss on your temple. "What are you guys doing over there?" Dae-su calls out forcing you both to break the hug. You can't help but giggle at the annoyed look on Su-hyeok's face.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎┊ㅤㅤ 🌾 ㅤㅤ ﾟㅤㅤ ┊

[lorifragolina]

Fleabags

I got a row in the @harringrovesummerbingo card! it's the first I wrote when I hadn't plan the others but I deferred the edit until now :) I'm just patting my back because I am editing surpisingly quick XD

Title: Fleabags

Square & Prompt: A1 "Wet towel"

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3794

Major Tags: WARNING IMPLICIT VIOLENCE,Harringrove, cats, rough sex, abusive home, twisted personality

Summary: Billy and Steve rescue a litter of kittens together. They softened Billy and make Steve feel in love. But Neil Hagrove's hand puts a shadow over them, making Billy hurt and cry, and making Steve taking steps to solve the situation. With fire and iron, if needed.

Read on AO3

Steve saw Billy run into the locker room and take a towel from the towel rack, so he followed him outside, too curious to miss it. 

He looked around and saw Billy at the side of the road, kneeling on the ground, and he got nearer. Billy was wrapping the towel carefully around a skinny, ruffled cat, and the towel was stained red. The little cat was bleeding from the mouth and the nose.

“What happened?” Steve knelt at Billy’s side. Billy's hands were shivering, and his voice was broken. 

“A car hit him, I just heard the brakes…”

The cat appeared seriously injured. He wasn’t moving and his breath was short and heavy. Billy was shocked. 

“Let's take him to the vet, come on,” Steve grabbed Billy’s arm. Suddenly, Billy raised a hand and listened.

A feeble weeping came from the side of the road. Steve kept the cat in the towel and Billy went searching in the short bushes.

“Shit!” he cursed, and Steve went to look: there was a carton box, wet and dirty, and four little kittens inside, crying out loud calling their mom. Their mom was laying half dead in the towel not far away.

Steve looked at Billy, but Billy kept his head low. Steve could see his upper lip trembling and his eyes taking a bitter, sad crease looking at those little things, the eyes still half closed and so unsure on their little paws.

Steve grabbed Billy’s arm again and shook him. 

“Come on, we have to go to the doctor with them, I’ll drive”.

Billy seemed reviving, and nodded. He passed a hand on his face and took the box with special care.

Steve drove to the vet and Billy kept comforting the cat mom on his knees during the road. 

“Come on, baby, your kittens are here, come on, be strong, we’re almost there”.

They sat while the vet took a look at the injured cat, lying rigid and suffering on the white towel; they tried to give her a shot touching her back, her paws, but all was useless. 

“The cat is dying, she has internal bleeding and she’s really weak to face a surgery,” said the doctor, and Billy whined. 

“But the kittens?” 

The doctor took one of the babies, red striped like the mother. “Well they can’t eat alone for the moment… they need the bottle every four or six hours”.

“I’ll do it”, said Billy vivaciously. He was pale and tired, but his look was sharp.

“We’ll do it,” nodded Steve, and Billy opened his mouth in surprise.

The vet gave them some milk for the babies and showed them how to feed them with a syringe, then they had to say goodbye to the mom. 

Billy took his wallet and counted some bills, concerned.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay,” said Steve.

“No,” Billy finally took every bill in the wallet and gave it to the doctor. “I can pay,” he said, stubborn, putting the empty wallet back in the pocket. 

Steve didn’t insist, but when they stopped at the supermarket to buy some necessary supplies, he played when Billy wasn’t looking. 

“Will you take them to your house?” asked Steve, a little doubtful, recalling some of the talks of the kids about Max’s house.

Billy hesitated. He got out of Steve’s car in the school parking lot and carefully put the box on the passenger seat.

“I… I don’t know. I can’t take them in the house… but I will manage somehow".

“We can take them in my house,” suggested Steve.

“You already did enough, there’s no need”.

“You can’t keep them in the car or outdoors,” he insisted.

Billy sighed, then nodded reluctantly. He followed Steve to his mansion and waited at the gate with the box in his arms. 

“Here,” Steve made way. “My mother wouldn’t let them in the house but they can stay in the shed, nobody uses it,” Steve opened a little metal door in a sort of storehouse. “They’ll be fine here”.

“But I have to take care of them”

“We both can take care of them,” said Steve diplomatically. “Anyway you can enter from the backyard, the door isn’t closed”.

Billy placed the box in a sheltered corner. Steve took all the things they bought and they set a comfortable home for the babies. Billy cleaned them and petted them a little, giving them some more food, until they finally curled up warmly together and fell asleep. 

“Poor babies without your mummy,” he whispered, covering them, in a low voice, convinced that Steve didn’t hear him. 

“They’ll need the next feed at 4 am…” he said then.

“I can take care of it”.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here”.

“You can rest,” insisted Steve.

“I’ll take care,” growled Billy, and Steve shooked his head for the fucking stubbornness. 

“Ok, whatever”.

Billy went home, and Steve closed the garage looking at the Camaro going away raising a dust cloud. He didn’t think he would ever say that side of Billy.

“Fleabags'' was the collective name Billy gave to all the four kittens; they were too little to think to definitive names, he said, and probably he didn’t want to growing fond; too late, thought Steve, because he was always on time even in the night to feed, clean and comfort the babies. Steve tried to wake up to help him, but he always found Billy already there with the kittens on him, smiling and baby talking with them. The four fleabags cried a lot for their dimensions, and their little claws were sharp and pointy, but Billy was very attached to them, he was determined not to let them die. It was a little difficult to conciliate the feed hours with the school, but they took turns and somehow they could do it. The kittens opened their eyes completely and started to crawl more confidently in the box and try to jump out, so they changed the box with a bigger one and stayed large minutes looking at their little brats, jammed. 

Steve looked at the secret, tender smile Billy gave the babies, and once or twice he caught his look and his smile too. They didn’t talk much, but Billy appeared more relaxed at his side, now that they were sharing that task and that secret.

Steve’s parents came home and Steve kept his mouth shut about the garage, then after a couple of weeks they went away again.

The kitten kept growing and became louder and fluffier, and really clinged to Billy; Steve felt a little jump of his heart when he saw Billy smile and make faces to the babies.

One time, they sat side by side with a cat each, while the other two were wandering near them. Billy raised the kitty, kissing him sweetly on the pink little nose, and he crossed Steve’s eyes looking at him, charmed. Billy stopped smiling, incapable of taking off his own look, and Steve put a hand on his tight, getting closer. He closed his eyes, reaching Billy’s lips, but Billy made a little noise and flinched a little. 

Steve stopped, and looked again to him; Billy gulped, sighed and nodded imperceptibly. His eyes were glossy and sad, he was shivering a little and blinking.

It wasn’t a rejection, otherwise he would mock and insult Steve loudly, it was more a “I would, but I can’t” look, a mix of fear and sadness that made Steve’s heart sink. 

They didn’t talk about that and they had never talked about Billy’s house, but Steve suddenly understood some of Billy’s erratic behavior lately. He would say he was sorry but he wouldn't ruin the feeble  friendship they were building with difficulty. 

Billy went away that night without a word, and the next day all returned to normal, apparently; but Steve kept looking at him furtively and noticing some little, sweet things that drew him more to Billy

Then, a night Billy didn’t come; Steve waited a little at the window and then went himself to attend to the kittens; he put some kitten food in a bowl and they ate by themself for the first time. He was thrilled to share that milestone with Billy, and he stayed an hour with them, but Billy didn’t appear. It was strange for him, but maybe he had just overslept.

Steve was about to go to bed when he heard the Camaro parking in the back; he looked from the window and saw Billy opening the gate, walking not really straight, and he gasped when Billy passed under the street light; he could see his face bleeding, a dark circle around one eye and bruises on his neck.

“Shit,” he shivered, and took a wet towel going to the garage. 

He found Billy sitting against the wall with two cats in his lap, hiding his face and sobbing.

Billy jumped when he heard the door opening, and he lowered his head trying to wipe the tears; Steve sighed seeing the cuts in his face and the dried blood and the bruises, but the worst thing was he looked defeated and desperate.

“Billy…” he whispered, kneeling at his side, gently passing the towel on the cuts. Billy whined and moved his head. “What’s happened?” Steve found himself hoping he just had a random fistfight out there, rather than thinking about the reality. Billy’s face started swelling up and the beat appeared more savage than at the beginning.

“Billy,” whispered Steve again. “Shit…” he glimpsed the bruises under his shirt, the marks on his chest, like the mark of a boot in his ribs. “Who did…” he said, but Billy cried again and he shot up. 

He felt stupid, stupid and inattentive, because he realized it wasn’t the first time he saw bruised like those on Billy’s face and body, but he never paid really attention, thinking he deserved it in some fight or, if sometimes he thought he could be abused at home, he only checked if Max was wounded too, but never really took care of Billy.

Steve took the cats, already fed and attended, and raised a hand to Billy, helping him stand up and pushing him gently into the house. Billy kept crying quietly and Steve clenched his fists, trying to calm down his boiling blood.

“I just came home a little late,” babbled Billy after a while, and Steve instinctively hugged him, provoking another fit of tears.

“It’s ok, Billy, don’t worry… you can stay here. I’ll take care of… this”.

Billy nodded, but he released Stevs hug, curling in an armchair. Steve sat on the sofa at his side and they fell asleep after a while, without touching each other. 

The cats had definitely learnt to eat alone, but Billy kept going to check them in the evening after dinner, when he could sneak out of his house; Steve always looked at him with certain concern, worried about the scars that were slowly fading on his face.

The next Friday, he saw Billy leant to the Camaro, in the arcade parking lot, smoking nervously while waiting for Max. He was jumping from one foot to the other and grumbling, knowing that it was getting late. When Max came out of the place with the boys, Steve stopped them to talk about the plans they had for the weekend. He saw the same worry in Max, who was looking furtively at a fuming Billy waiting for her, but he kept talking with her until Billy started screaming.

“Max! Max, for Christ’s sake! Come on!”

Steve knew they had a curfew, even in summer, and the consequences of breaking it, but he walked MAx to Billy, putting on a friendly face.

“We’re just talking, Hargrove. Do you have plans for the weekend? You can join us if you want”.

Billy threw away his cig and looked at Steve with a mix of rage and panic. Max entered the car, but Steve stayed in his way a minute more.

“I fucking need to go, Harrington,” he growled, and Steve smiled, raising his hand. 

Billy screeched the wheels, while Steve kept smiling and took his car too, going in the opposite direction.

“Stupid shitty Harrington,” whined Billy, looking at the clock. They were so fucking late and Max was panicking too. She grabbed the handle while Billy speeded up insanely, going through a couple lights and cursing

Obviously he didn’t see the police car hiding behind a curve, and he cried when he saw the light and the siren.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grabbed the steering wheel, and Max cried softly.

Hopper knocked on his windowpane and Billy smiled. “Problems, officer?”

“Come with me.” Billy whined loudly, following the sheriff to the police station.

They were so dead. Neal didn’t care if they were late for a flat wheel or an accident, and he would be really pissed when he’d know the police stopped him again for speeding.

“Officer, please, can you just give me the fine and let us go?”, said Billy after a while, after Hopper lectured him once again about driving dangerously. They were late, now, so late, and Max was whining and fidgeting in her chair. It was friday and she was afraid of being grounded all the weekend, Neal would be so satisfied to punish them… 

Hopper took the phone. “She’s a minor and I have to call her parents”.

Being late would be bad, but if Neal would answer a call from the police, he would beat him to a pulp. Billy looked at the clock, at that hour his father was surely at home.

He looked Hopper waiting at the phone, scared, but he hung up after a while. Susan was in her night shift and if Neal still wasn’t at home, maybe they still had a little opportunity.

“I’m an adult, officer, and she’s my sister, so please, just fine me and…”

The telephone rang. Hopper answered, then he sent the call in his office, closing the door. Billy considered if they could run away, but Hopper was looking at them through the window, concerned.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said then, pushing them in the car. He drove until the old road near the mill; Callahan was already there with the light flashing, near the ambulance. 

“Stay in the car!” ordered Hopper, and they could see a thin wisp of smoke and the firemen around a burnt car. It appeared completely destroyed and black, and the smell of gas and kerosene filled the air. 

Hopper was looking at his car, shaking his head. He opened the door. 

“You, come on. No, you stay,” he closed the door on Max’s nose. 

Billy got near and could look better at the bone of the car. Hopper prevented him from getting near the driver window and dragged him to the back.

“Do you know this car?”

Billy felt his head spin, and he grasped Hopper unintentionally. 

“It’s my father's plate…” he said, before fainting in the sheriff’s arms.

He didn’t really remember what happened after that. Hopper took them home, someone called Susan and they waited for her at home. 

She took the news surprisingly calmly, but she pointed at Billy, whispering to the agents. 

“Witness said your husband left work at 5.30, and… the kids were with me at that moment”.

Billy clenched his fists. He couldn’t realize well what’d happened, but Neal’s car had a hit in the back and he eavesdropped that the body had the head smashed before burning, so it wasn’t an accident. He was hurted that Susan could think he had something to do with that, so when she and Max went to a friend to sleep, he didn’t go with them.

“You can sleep at home now, but please, come tomorrow morning to the station,” said Hopper. “Ehi,” he grabbed his arm. “Don’t worry. You’re not suspected of anything, never mind what she said, she’s shocked”.

Billy sat on his bed, alone, in a trance, looking at the void. Then took his jacket, still smelling of gas and burnt, and left the house.

Steve heard him open the garage’s door. He found him standing on the door, looking in the void, breathing really low, pale, smelling awfully and shocked.

“Billy? What’s the matter?”

Steve tried to get near him, and Billy oddly noticed he was freshly showered, smelling of soap and shampoo.

“My… father…” he whispered, incapable of finding the words. “He… had… an accident”.

“Oh? And how is he?”

“He… he’s gone,” Billy’s voice was almost inaudible. 

“Oh. Oh, shit. Come on, come with me”.

Steve grabbed him gently and dragged him into the house.

It was hot inside, Billy felt the smell of smoke and kerosene but it was stuck in his clothes and in his nose, and saw that the chimney had been recently used, so probably Steve had used some starter… It was odd how his brain was registering stupid things trying not to think of the “big” thing.

“How do you feel?” said Steve,  handling him a glass of water.

“Free,” said Billy suddenly. 

Steve nodded. “Indeed you’re free”.

Billy looked away and saw a piece of fabric in the chimney, but he was too confused to think. 

Steve had a grin on his face. “People like him have to burn in hell”.

Billy smiled a little too. He knew he had to feel sorry for his father’s death, but he couldn’t. He was shaking. 

He was free. No more curfew. No more beating. No more insults. No more… he clenched his fists again and cried. The tears ran on his face slowly, almost quietly, without a whine. 

Steve took him in his arms and hugged him. Then he took his face in his hands and dried his tears. 

Billy, finally, nodded, and closed the distance between them, kissing him, shily at first, then deeply and then again ferally, that time crying out loud, devouring Steve’s mouth, pressing all his body against his. 

He was free. He felt free. He was free and excited and… euphoric and Steve laughed out loud, throwing away their shirts.

He grabbed Billy’s belt and dragged him up the stairs, on his bed. He opened Billy’s pants and whined while taking them away. He undressed himself too and grinned their hard cocks together. 

“No,” said Billy. “No foreplay, Steve,” he urged, with a harsh, broken voice. 

Steve had a ferocious grin on his face when he lubed Billy’s ass with two fingers, and groaned wildly when he placed his tip on Billy’s rim.

“Fuck me, please, now,” begged Billy, turning on his stomack and Steve fucked him.

Billy felt he was broken in two in pain. Steve’s dick was ripping him apart, raw and barely lubed. He felt every inch of his skin tearing, Steve’s cock rummaging in his guts, while his body tried to resist and push him away.

It was painful. It was wild. 

He was free. 

He felt everything in his body and he wanted to cry and scream, he pressed his face on the pillow to bear the pain. Steve kept thrusting at his back, fucking him, and it was… it was the first time he felt his body really his’. He had fucked multiple men in motel beds or cars and everytime he thought if his father could smell his queerness, could feel he had a man inside, and he wasn’t free. He had always been in danger, but… not that time. While he was suffering for Steve inside him, he was… completely free. His body was nobody else’s, he was so grounded and conscious of it he felt almost dizzy.

Steve reached his dick and pumped it, murmuring obscenities at his ear. Billy was crying but Steve made him hard again, hitting his prostate and his dick at the same time. 

“Cum for me, baby, let me feel how you do it…” Steve purred in his ear, and Billy couldn’t resist. He came in Steve’s hand and passed away, and regained consciousness when Steve grabbed his hips and broke him with the last pushes, coming inside him. 

He couldn't open his eyes when Steve came out of him, and he felt his cum dripping on his own legs. 

“We need… to check the cats,” he whispered.

“They’re fine,” answered Steve.

“No, we need to check…”

Steve pushed him on the bed with a hand, firmly, almost hurting him. Billy opened his eyes wide.

Steve let him go. “Ok, if you want”.

The cats were sleeping with the full belly, they ate by themselves, but Billy lightly touched them as he wanted to check they were still alive. Steve’s cum kept running on his legs when they returned to the house, making him sure it was real. The smell of fuel he kept smelling made him a little sick. It was stronger in the house, and he felt uncomfortable in his clothes. 

“Let’s go to bed again”, Steve gently took Billy’s hand when he looked at the chimney.

Billy followed him and lied again on the bed. Steve took him again, and again, with and without foreplay, wildly, ignoring his whining of pain and his tears. Billy felt he was maneuvering and manipulateing his body, moving him and taking him, marking him with his fingers, his teeth, his cum, but it wasn’t a torture like before, like with his father. 

When Steve finished, he left Billy spreaded and leaking on the bed, barely awake. He went down to the living room, he made sure the fire in the chimney had burned all his clothes, soaked in blood and kerosene, then cleaned the ashes and buried them under the roses in the garden. 

He took a last look at the car, it had a dent on the front but he managed to hit a garbage container in front of the party, earlier that afternoon in the arcade parking lot, before going to chase Neil Hargrove’s car.

He knew Hopper’s habit to hide near the road late in the afternoon to catch kids speeding, and knew that if Billy had been late he would push the gas, creating an alibi for him.

He checked the trunk just to be sure, although he left the kegs near the car after setting it on fire, and he threw the iron bar in the lake. 

He nodded, everything was fine, finally.

He returned to the bedroom, and gently passed a wet towel on Billy’s tortured body, cleaning the sweat, the drool and the cum. Billy whined, incapable of opening his eyes.

“Shh, baby, quiet, rest, baby,” he chanted a little, taking his place at Billy’s side, caressing his body under the sheets. 

“You’re free now”.

[fantomette22]

Lady Maria vs Keeper of the Old Lords

In the depth of the pthumerian's tombs, Lady Maria always feared to encounter an adversary with the ability to control fire.

Not just a common foe with a mere fire paper no, but a being capable of channelling their own energy or blood to ignite a blade, a pyromancer. The protectors of the old lords or of the antics kings and queens of their people.

She always had fascination yet a grand fear for them. People aren't sure why a fearless warrior like her would be so destabilised at their evocation or when rumours to have seen one would went to her ear.

But in the end, she managed to overcome one of her biggest fear. She faced the fire and ash warrior and save her companions!

She took a decision. She won't let herself be hold back by this part of herself and scare her so much, anymore.

A few headcanons :

Yes I headcanon Maria is born a pyromancer. The first since about her grand grand grand (grand?) parents. Her blood is very powerful for offensive use. (Way more powerful than a normal human trying to used a Chikage as well, for exemple). So yes she could ignite her blood from her living under certains extreme conditions.

She never really learnt how to control it/how to make it take fire on demand properly and she didn't wished too (plus if she can't control it her family isn't gonna ask her to used it!). She don't want to use her own blood as a weapon, as a mean to hurt people. She don't like this and she almost feel like a monster or a weapon with such abilities.

Still, she was quite curious about the legends of the pyromancers protector of the great ones. Compared than the "shadows" of the queen she should have become.

Her abilities through her blood but it's is very similar to the shadows of Yharnam/beast possessed soul/keeper. Like the description said for the keepers they had to go through a ritual to obtain their power. But they are much older, those rituals take place before pthumerians crown themselves leaders.

Back at byrgenwerth the students gang did encounter a shadow of Yharnam once, during hm training we'll say. Everyone was fine in the end but Maria was quite shock and scared by the experience. It reminded her what she could become and the role her peers wanted her to have. A shadow.(= bodyguard who can do dirty work). Still, she even used her own blood to distract the shadow so they could run away, knowing maybe it would recognize her as not an enemy. Everyone found that a bit weird a t first but they figure that Maria do know some pthumerian/cainhurst rituals so that pass and almost no one suspect anything.

After she got her master degree at Byrgenwerth, she went to the East a couple of months to do a mission for Cainhurst. She got her Rakuyo over there as well. When she came back she got offered her hunter outfit and joined the hunter/ healing church. Not long after they went to Central Pthumeru...

Maria and a few hunter had to fight the beast possessed soul and again it scared her. Afterwards she understood she couldn't let her fear of pyromancer hold her back or people could be severely hurt.

So afterwards they discover the keeper of the old lords, Maria fought it and defeat it. She got injured and was quite destabilised but she made it. She was gift her chalice afterwards and got THE blood transfusion + a baptism + being officially a part of the hunter/church.

So besides her very close family (royal family include) nobody knows about her ability for a huge while. I think you can understand why.

Ok she did tell Gehrman accidentally. But there were more important things she told him at the same time too so he didn't pay that much attention to it on the moment. And after all, 'that you can make fire or not with your blood doesn't change who you are Maria!"

Laurence in the contrary kinda loose it when he learn about it XD he found it absolutely incredible! Compared to her. But he managed to tell her it wasn't a curse but a gift and it shows she must be special for the great ones! She did appreciate that.

I know the idea of Maria vs keeper of the old lords have already been done by a few people but it's just so good! I believe there's many possibility for a story! In term of action or even characters.

[feyhunter78]

Hey it’s me El! I have an apprentice one shot for Aemond. The reader is the apprentice painter who paints the portraits for them. The reader just finds Aemond to be a masterpiece and paints them all day in the too they were given. Aemond gets the wrong impression of them looking at him constantly and goes into their room when they aren’t there but finds their paintings of him. She walks in and explains saying she thinks he’s her muse and he’s beautiful. He gets flustered and doesn’t know what to do. Awkward flirting happens cause she hasn’t done everyone’s paintings yet. He visits her while she’s doing aegons and he teases the two of them saying of just kiss or fuck and get it over with! And stuff like that. They get awkward but later aemond kisses her and they agree to court

This is super cuteeee, and I decided to go soft with this one!!! To give everyone a break from the smut XD

The Painter and her Muse

Aemond didn’t understand why the court painter’s apprentice kept staring at him. His portrait was one of the first to be finished, mainly because he was the only one that could sit still for that long. But no matter what, if she and him were in the same room together he would always catch her staring at him, almost observing him.

At first, he wondered if perhaps she was an assassin. Then she tripped on the edge of the rug and dropped all her paintbrushes, not managing to catch a single one. So, he ruled that theory out quite quickly.

He soon came to the conclusion that she found him revolting, and could not stop herself from gazing upon the horror that was his disfigured face. After he caught her watching him outside in the garden, her eyes trailing over his form, he’d had enough.

He stormed into the painting studio, ready for a fight.

“Lady y/n, you must cease your staring, it is an insult. If you wish to gawk at the misfortune of others, I suggest the depth of the Fleabottom.”

Instead of a stammering, frightened woman, he finds canvas after canvas of his face staring back at him.

He walks around the room slowly, admiring the time and detail put into each one.

The door swings open, and he hears a shocked, “my prince?”

You’ve walked in on your worst nightmare. Prince Aemond, in the painting studio, looking at the portraits you painted of him, without his knowledge. “I—I can explain.” You stuttered out, rushing to pull the drapes over the paintings.

Aemond grabs your elbow. “Explain then.”

You keep your eyes on the floor as you begin. “You have inspired me, your beauty has breathed new life into my art, I know I should have asked, but I could not waste this burst of inspiration.”

Aemond tilted your chin up with one bent finger. “Are you implying that I am your…muse?”

You forced yourself to meet his eyes. “Yes, my prince. I am so sorry, if I’ve offended you, I will cease at once.”

Aemond’s good eye narrowed for a moment before he released you. “No, I am flattered actually, you have done a wonderful job of capturing my likeness.”

You smile brightly at him. “Truly? I worried that perhaps I had not captured the sharpness of your cheekbones well enough.”

Aemond looked at the nearest painting, it was one of him reading in the library, a calm and contented expression on his face. “They look quite sharp to me.”

You were beaming, and he had a hard time keeping his own smile from emerging.

“And then I told her, she could keep the tunic if she wanted it so badly, but I wanted an extra round in return. She got angry and kicked me out of the brothel, I was not even able to retrieve my tunic.” Aegon groaned, recounting you with his latest adventures.

You giggled as you continued painting. Aegon was your third to last portrait after him, you needed to paint ones of his children.

“That sounds quite harrowing, my prince.” You said, leaning to the side to glance at him again.

“Brother—oh, and Lady y/n.” Aemond’s voice filled the room and you turned instantly.

“Yes, Aemond?” Aegon said, taking this chance to stretch his arms.

“I came to ask you when the twins will have their portraits done. Mother wishes to get them new garments beforehand.”

Aegon tilted his head towards you. “Ask the painter.”

Aemond looked to you.

“The children’s portraits will be done after I finish Prince Aegon’s.” You told him.

“Hear that? Now leave, you are distracting her from her work.” Aegon said, as he resumed the position they’d agreed on.

Aemond stepped closer to you, admiring your work. “For having such a difficult subject, you have managed to create something quite magnificent.”

“I love you too, Aemond.” Aegon called, sticking his tongue out at him.

“The prince is not ugly, so it was not difficult.” You said.

Aegon let out a victorious laugh. “Perhaps she can paint you with both eyes. We’ll send that out and lure a bride here with it.”

You felt Aemond stiffen behind you.

“I think Prince Aemond is already very handsome with one eye, if he had two we might all die from the radiance of his beauty.” You said without thinking, cheeks heating up as the words slipped out.

“That’s very kind Lady y/n, especially from someone so beautiful herself.”

Aegon groaned. “Just fuck already, I do not wish to hear this drivel.”

You stepped away from Aemond, and he did the same. “My—my prince, it is not like that, I can assure you.” You said quickly, already fearing that rumors would spread. This was the death sentence of any court painter. Once you have been accused of an affair, your career was over.

“Aegon that is not the language to use in front of a lady.” Aemond chastised.

“So you do wish to fuck her?” Aegon prodded.

“No, because I am a man of honor who is able to curb his desires, unlike you.” Aemond shot back.

You didn’t let the thought of he did not say he would not bed you if honor was not an obstacle, linger in your mind. “Prince Aegon, please cease talking, I must finish this painting, and you move your whole body when you speak.”

Aegon did as you asked, but shot Aemond one more teasing look.

“I will leave you to your work then.” Aemond said, before leaving the room.

You bid him goodbye, and continued painting, your stomach in knots.

Later, you rushed to your door to answer the frantic knocking. Swinging it open, you took a step back in surprise to see Aemond standing before you.

“Prince Aemond?” You asked.

Aemond said nothing, his eye roaming your face.

“Is everything alright?” You tried again, hand still on the doorknob.

In a swift motion, Aemond bent down, cupped your face and kissed you. It was a staggering kiss, all your thoughts derailed as your senses focused in on him. Your hand gripped his tunic, using it and the door for support when he pulled away and brushed the pad of his thumb along your bottom lips.

“There are no rules that say a muse cannot kiss his artist, are there?”

You shook your head, stunned.

He chuckled and released your chin. “I wish to court you.”

“Okay…” You said, still returning to reality, the smell of parchment and leather still overwhelming your senses.

“Unless that is not your wish?” He asked hesitantly.

That brought you back into your body. “No, no, it is my wish, I would be honored if you were to court me. I would…very much like that.”

Aemond gave you one of his rare, true smiles. “Then I shall come collect you after breakfast?”

“That would be nice.” You said, still gripping his tunic.

“I shall see you then.” He said, as he gently unfurled your fingers and pressed a kiss to each one before he disappeared into the shadows. Leaving you standing there breathless and giddy.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010

[iamamythologicalcreature]

Six Sentence Sunday! The sequel!

So... Yes. I am still working on this little (I hope it's little) "What if Baz succeeded in stealing Simon's voice in 5th year?" fanfic of mine. Because. Um. I like the potential for angst? So much angst. Also other feelings. But for the purposes of today's little snippet: ANGST.

Since I missed last week (and might miss next week if I can't manage to write something new between now and then), you get 12 lines instead of 6! Also because the snippet wouldn't have worked so well cut in half.

You already know the premise of my fic, so this shouldn't come as too much of a shock: Baz did a bad thing, and he remembers it too well.

He didn’t start our would-be confrontation with any of his usual questions or accusations. He started with my name. "Baz—" That single utterance morphed into the most terrible sound I’d ever heard. Would ever hear. Snow choked on it, because it wouldn’t stop. It twisted and writhed in the air after clawing its way out of him. It became an unrecognizable, fading wail. Only I knew. I never stopped hearing my name. My name on Snow’s lips took forever to die. And as awful as that slow death had been, the silence that followed was a thousand times worse.

(Yeah. Canon divergence begins here. I did say I'm here for maximum angst XD)

Side note: Looking for brainstorming/writing buddies so I don't overwhelm the ones I already have. Ahem. If this story idea intrigues you and you'd like to let me babble at you a lot (I am happy to accept return babble if you also have a WIP), let me know. It's the only way I get anything done, apparently.

Bonus picture of my pile of notecards, mostly to prove I'm doing something, under the cut, along with tags!

(I am posting this at 7-ish am, then going to bed, so if you've posted already all you lovelies in other time zones, consider this a friendly wave hello! Will read stuff tonight!)

@nightimedreamersworld @cutestkilla @hushed-chorus @alleycat0306 @artsyunderstudy @aristocratic-otter @prettygoododds @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @supercutedinosaurs @martsonmars @fatalfangirl @thewholelemon @raenestee @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ic3-que3n @facewithoutheart @rimeswithpurple @erzbethluna @ebbpettier @ionlydrinkhotwater @whogaveyoupermission @theearlgreymage @philaet0s @scone-lover @youarenevertooold @whatevertheweather @brilla-brilla-estrellita

(Want tags? Don't want tags? LMK!)

[my-pjo-stuff]

hello there! as a fellow luke castellan defender, i would like to thank you for showing the ignorant pjo fans the obvious.

my question to u, however, is: what is your opinion on the movie!luke and the show!luke portrayals?? which do you think is more accurate, per say?

thanks!

Lmao no need! I do what I can XD I talked abt show Luke a couple times now, so bare with me if I keep myself a bit short on him.

I think he's the best part of the show and was done REALLY well! I even enjoy his "betrayal scene" in the show more than in the book ngl. I think you can really see the core of his character in the show- that being a scarred and hurt kid who was manipulated trying to do the right thing. Charlie did and excellent job portraying him, especially the emotions and the watery eyes during the betrayal were GREAT. The only thing I could even mildly have an issue with is the fact that show!Luke has black hair/brown eyes and not the book blond hair/blue eyes. But that's mostly because I generally prefer stuff to be accurate to the source material, and it's something I can easily overlook and be okay with if the adaption is still good overall. So yeah, love show!Luke so far. As for movie Luke....eh? Like, he isn't the worst. But he certainly isn't something I like???? To be quite honest- I think Jake Abel did a good job at playing the character! And movie!Luke certainly has his charms- I just don't really think he works as book!Luke. He's too goofy- if you get what I mean. In the beginning he isn't the caring older brother he's supposed to be- he's more silly cousin who get's into trouble with you. An integral part of Luke's character, in my opinion, really is that the guy is genuinely caring. He looks after younger kids! He excels as managing people around him and putting them at-ease. He cares about those around him to a great extend. It's important because that care is a core motivation of his character! he's angry, and hurt and easy to manipulate by Kronos because of his care for other people, and the way they suffer due to the gods. I think that is missing from movie!Luke. I also think his character is just...weird. Like, the SOM movie just ruined him. Because wdym he didn't have an established allyship with Kronos before reviving him!? Him being manipulated and just genuinely abused by Kronos is a HUGE thing! It also sort of ruins his reasons for staling the Master Bolt in TLT. All around Luke just looks like an idiot in the movies. I think he as a character would have been much better if he was a stand-alone original. And not the adaptation of book!Luke, because he did have potential! I have also heard that Luke is a very obvious traitor in the movies from other people as opposed to the books which- honestly idk? Like I don't think I can accurately judge how much a shock him turning bad was in the movies as I knew what was coming already. What I can say is that the scene itself loses all emotional momentum for me though, as Luke hasn't been NEARLY as well established and shown to be likable as he did in canon. Some of his lines are funny af tho.

[emptymanuscript]

When they say shelving stories isn't the end of things and that you can always come back, we mean it.

I did some extremely light editing work today, on a whim, for "In Shining Armor" which I wrote in 1993!

The file is so old that I had to download LibreOffice to even open the file and then convert it because Word considered the file format a threat (probably to their pocketbooks more than security but still...).

So, to go along with you can always come back, also remember to both back up and never throw any writing away. You do never know when you might need it.

Someone brought some of their old work in to writing group this week, mentioning it was one of their first things which they had been thinking about again but also that they felt bad about how bad it was. And I mentioned, hey, it's probably fantastic compared to my oldest stuff.

So then I was like, hey, I should dig out my equivalent piece.

And... Sheesh, it is BAD bad.

63 pages double spaced but still with 8 parts and 41 chapters. One is a prologue and I'm fairly certain the last 4 "chapters" are all epilogues, two with multiple brand new characters being introduced in them. You know, for all those epic sequels I was going to write.

Peter Jackson has got nothing on me.

I also managed a very graphic sex scene without ever describing the body of one of the participants. Must have cut that for the magazine back in the day. Highschoolers writing smut! Scandal! Outrage! Why, I never! It's all too shocking! For shaaaaame!!

But it is at least spelling and grammar checked now XD so that's an improvement.

I don't know if I can quite imagine what this story would look like if I tried to do it now. Definitely not the same amount of smut. Don't know if it would be more or less, though.

It's so cliched fantasy.

Evil Tyrant overlord, check.

Return of the long lost prince, check.

Cursed good sorceress, check.

The peasants are revolting AND they're rebelling, Check.

My god the accents >_< XD!, yes, spell check, I do wish to keep all the whadya means.

...Somehow the rebels have guns when everyone else has swords.

The evil good Wizard did it.

The Wizard's name is Marlin, not to be confused with Merlin.

Villain (and HOMG check his name) gets a final monologue. AFTER he has gotten a fatal stab wound and is bleeding fire.

"You may think you have won," Darius gurgled, "But this is only the beginning. I shall come again. When you least expect it, and when you are least prepared to handle it, I  Darius Lucifero shall return." With that the flames engulfed him, and his ashes were set to the winds.

Che-eck, PLEASE.

Ah, no, it was only THREE epilogues. That's fine then.

XD!!!

So, you know, don't get too down on your writing. Trust me, you will get better. And probably faster than me XD! I still give villains final monologues. I like villain monologues.

I may just like monologues XD.

[achaotichuman]

Okay but what are your thoughts on Tamlin purring, not the quiet kind of purring but like the loud and happy purr? I imagine him purring every time Lucien gives forehead kisses or andras ruffling his head XD

Yes yes yes yes! Thats all I can say, jk I will absolutely say more.

Why stop at purring? Lets go full cat mode! Tamlin hissing at Rhysand when he appears in the Spring Court. Tamlin just going full chaotic mode at three in the morning and just knocking stuff over left and right. Tamlin sitting at Lucien's door when its locked and pawing at it, while continuously calling out for Lucien to open up.

I'm just imagining, Andras getting back from border patrol, he's had a long day. He had to trap and kill a few dozen creatures, he's about to give the report to Tamlin's father. All he wants is a bath and his bed.

Then Tamlin comes bounding out, his green eyes alight with energy. He's holding something, Andras already knows the Prince wants to show him something. The other sentries are knocking off for the day, all of them are scattering, heading for their respective quarters. Andras stays rooted in place, watching as the Spring stops before him.

"Guess what!" Tamlin says, practically vibrating with excitement.

"You found a million dollars on the ground and you giving it to me." Andras says deadpan.

"No! Even better! I found-" Tamlin rifles in the satchel slung across his chest, eventually grinning when he seems to find it. Holding it up in front of Andras' eyes, Andras sees some kind of purple flower, specks of gold are emitting from it. He eyes it warily.

"Cool... what is it?"

Tamlin huffs, seemingly annoyed by Andras' lack of floristry knowledge, "This is the bloom from a cactus that only grows in Winter, Andras! And I found it growing in a cave in the side of the mountain near the tunnels! You know what this means! It means flora originally thought to only originate from certain Courts can grow in other places if given the correct conditions and time. We can experiment and maybe we can grow things here we normally get from imports from other Courts! It would make our Court so much more valuable as an ally!"

Andras had to admit even he was impressed by the prince's words. At the same time, he was exhausted. He still smiled, then he lifted a hand and placed it on Tamlin's head. Ruffling his golden hair.

Tamlin closed his eyes, grinning widely. A purring noise came from the back of his throat, a loud kind of happy sound that Andras felt vibrating in his hand.

"Well done, Tam. You did good." Andras said.

Then I'm also imagining.

A loud crash in the middle of the night, or morning? Lucien looks at the clock hanging on the wall opposite to him. Three in the morning, what the hell was that?

There's another loud crash and Lucien lunges out of bed. A snap of his fingers and clothes appeared on his body, he ran from the room and bolted down the stairs.

There was an incessant clanging, Lucien followed the noise until he was in the kitchen.

Throwing the door open, he shouted, "What is going on- Tamlin Kali Fairburn!"

Tamlin was on the floor, a metal pot on his head, several pans and other kitchen supplies scattered around him. He had one pot stuck on his right foot, and a sheepish look when he lifted the pot off his head.

"Morning Lucien." The High lord said, trying to ease the fire lord into not being too angry with him.

"What in the Mother's name are you doing?" Lucien hissed.

Tamlin shrugged, "I was getting water, then I found a pan on the stove so I went to put it away, then more fell out, then one thing led to another..."

Lucien looked at the dozens of cabinets wide open, all items removed from them and on the floor, "How did you even manage this?"

"I... I don't know." Even Tamlin looked shocked at his own destruction.

Lucien put his head in his hands, "Oh good Gods, you know what?! We'll clean it up tomorrow."

The Fox made quick strides for Tamlin and pull the metal pots off his head and feet. Then pulled him to stand, the tired High lord swayed on his feet. Lucien decided enough was enough. He picked Tamlin up, bridal style and walked out of the room. Tamlin just yawned and rested his head on Lucien's shoulder.

"I am quite tired." Tamlin mumbled, already half out of it.

Lucien sighed quietly, "Of course you are."

The Fox pressed a soft kiss to the centre of his High lord's forehead. Tamlin smiled in his sleep, and a deep purring noise escaped his throat. Loud and happy, like a cat asleep in his arms.

Those are the scenes I came up with! Thank you for the ask!

[sweetpeaches666]

How would the episode of “be afraid of the dark” wil turn out?

And what is dr.Victor’s story and headcanon in your au?

(But man, imagine sed and jason telling each other “don’t hurt that kid/ben because he is my son-…..wait what?!” At the same time. Realizing they share Ben. XD)

And yes, how would Ben’s interaction with dr.Victor will go? Like even, would sed and Jason tell dr.Victor about ben?

Sed and Jason tell each other about Ben without name-dropping him, so they're unaware that they both share the same son. When they meet up with Viktor, they tell him about Ben while still not realizing that he's the same kid.

Viktor is surprised to hear that they both have sons on Earth, but simply believes that those two mated with humans and only want their children to be safe. Viktor agrees that he won't harm their sons and will help them leave with their sons once this is all over.

It's only when they finally meet Ben again that it finally clicks they share him. Cue to Sed and Jason fighting Max so he won't stop them from taking Ben. Ben, in his Arburian Pelarota form, fights both of his fathers.

Natural, neither Sed nor Jason wants to hurt Ben because he's their child. They both ended up hating Max, believing that he turned Ben against them, despite the obvious reasons. Ben, however, refuses to let them near his grandfather.

Gwen uses a spell that teleported her and her family away from the battle. She tells Ben that they need to find out about the monster aliens' plans to stop them, which Ben agrees. Max now feels that Sed and Jason might be Ben's Thep Khufan and Loboan fathers. Max tells Ben to come back if any of them try to kidnap him again.

The scene on the ship goes almost the same, except that Jason tells Viktor not to hurt Ben because he's his son. Viktor is surprised to hear that since Ben could transform into any alien form. After Jason leaves, the scene after that also changes.

Ben tries to fight Viktor on his own, but the man easily stops him. Viktor reveals his past to Ben. Viktor grew up as a slave when his planet was still colonized by the Vladats. He watched as both his parents were drained of their life force and died right before his eyes. As he got older, Viktor studies as much as he could so he could rebel against the Vladats and revenge his parents. The time finally came when he joined the rebellion that was made up of his fellow Transylians, Thep Khufans, Loboans, and Ectonurites, all of which was led by Zs'Skayr's uncle, the previous High Ecto-Lord of Anur Phaetos.

After destroying Vladats, Viktor became the closest thing to a leader to his fellow Transylians. Shortly after that, he met Zs'Skayr, who became the new High Ecto-Lord and became a servant to him. Plus, he earned a good payment from Zs'Skayr.

After hearing Viktor's story, Ben felt a little sorry for the guy, but his sympathy ended in turning Earth into a mutant wasteland. Ben transforms into his Transylian form, basically looking like a little Viktor, causing Viktor to be shock a little before managing to tie up the boy.

The scene of Zs'Skayr coming to life changes a little. Ben is shocked to see Zs'Skayr being alive and turns into his Ectonurite form. Zs'Skayr is happy to see Ben and tries to take him while calling him son. Ben tried to run away and hide. He's scared that his Ectonurite father will succeed in taking him away from his family this time. Wishing that his grandfather is here.

Viktor in the meantime is confused since Jason told him that Ben is his son, but now Zs'Skayr is calling Ben his son as well. Ben calls Max and Gwen to tell them what's really going on. Max tells Ben to stay calm and find a way to get where he and Gwen are.

The scene of Sed fighting Max and Gwen changes here. Sed actually talks to both of them. Sed tells Max that once everything is done, Sed will take Ben back to his home planet Anur Khufos and they will be a family. Hearing that, Max fires back by saying that if Sed and the others win, Ben will hate them since his human family got turned into mutants by his Anur fathers before Max and Gwen managed to escape.

Sed takes a moment to rethink the plan. Not wanting to believe that Ben will hate him as much as Sed hates his father, Sed tries to think of a way of having Ben with him while making his son doesn't hate him.

Once Ben arrives at the space station, he immediately looks for his human family. However, he bumps into Sed, who instantly hugs him. Ben is of course confused and tries to get out of Sed's embrace, only for Sed to tighten his grip. Ben tries to transform into multiple aliens, but Sed refuses to let Ben go.

Sed tells Ben that he's his father. Ben is a little skeptical of this since the chance of Sed being his Thep Khufan father is not that high. But deep down, Ben wonders if this is true. Max and Gwen show up and push Sed back into the airlock.

Gwen asks Ben if he's alright. Ben tells his cousin about what Sed said to him. Max consoles Ben that no matter of he is related to, Ben is free to become what he wants to be. However, Zs'Skayr shows up and unlocks the airlock to let out Sed. Zs'Skayr and Sed force the Tennyson family to watch as their entire planet is getting corrupted.

Ben could feel his emotions taking over. His human parents and the animals on the farm are being turned into monsters by two of his supposedly alien fathers and he can't do anything about it. Ben shouts at both Zs'Skayr and Sed for hurting his home and that he hates them.

Hearing their shared son say that, Zs'Skayr and Sed stop for a moment. Zs'Skayr is surprised to feel pain from hearing that. Sed feels his heart being broken by the words from his son. Just before either of them could talk, Gwen takes off her spacesuit to use a spell on Sed to freeze while Max uses the sun ray gun that he have hidden on Zs'Skayr that burns him.

Max comforts Ben, telling the poor kid that everyone and everything will return to normal once they turn off the transmitter. Ben smiles a little, hoping that his human parents are alright. But Max finds out that he can't turn off the transmitter because the controls are locked. Zs'Skayr shows up and drags Max with him outside, saying he had enough of Max.

Ben tells Gwen that he'll help their grandfather and she needs to use one of her spells to turn off the transmitter. Outside, Zs'Skayr tells Max that the Tennyson family have been a pain in his side for years for getting between Zs'Skayr and his child. Max replies that his family has been trying to protect Ben from his fathers in case they only see Ben as a weapon rather than their child.

Zs'Skayr becomes irritated and is ready to tear off Max's suit when Ben shows up in his Ectonurite form and stops his Ectonurite father from killing his human grandfather. Ben begs Zs'Skayr to stop and just leave the planet. Zs'Skayr says that he'll agree to leave Earth and abandon his plans if Ben comes home with him.

Viktor shows up, along with his Null Void Projector, and tells Zs'Skayr that the plan is working. Seeing his entire planet getting corrupted, Ben agrees to leave with his Ectonurite father. Zs'Skayr lets Max go and places him in an airlock while telling Max not to be sad since he still has Gwen to care for. Zs'Skayr returns to Ben to carry him. Happy that he finally has his son with him.

Back with Gwen, much like in canon, she tries to cast a spell on the controls, but only to accidentally grow flowers on them. Sed soon becomes unfrozen and tries to attack Gwen. However, Sed is more conflicted about it. On one hand, Sed doesn't care if Gwen gets hurt since she's in the way of Zs'Skayr's plans. But on the other hand, Sed knows that Ben will hate him even more if he hurts his son's human cousin.

Gwen flushes Sed down the toilet like canon and hopes that Ben is doing alright. Sed manages to make it out okay and finds his way to Zs'Skayr and Viktor, along with Ben in Zs'Skayr's arms. Seeing Ben is with the others, Sed instantly goes to him and cuddles him, much to Ben's discomfort. Viktor is surprised to see Sed being so affectionate to this shape-shifter.

Viktor finally asks whose kid is this and why the three of them are so determined to take him back to the Anur System with them. Zs'Skayr reveals that Ben is the rumored "Child of DNA", and Ben is their son. Curiously, Zs'Skayr asks if Viktor has seen Ben in a Transylian form, to which Vikto replies with a yes.

Raising his suspicions, Zs'Skayr further asks Viktor if he ever met a female Chimera Sui Generis who took some of his DNA for whatever reason. Viktor replies again with a yes while getting confused as to why was his boss asking him these questions before it finally hits him that Ben is also his son. Ben simply groans since this means finds he has more villain dads in his life now.

But just before anyone can do or say anything, Max shows up in the shuttle like in the series. Zs'Skayr orders Viktor to stop Max, and Viktor follows without hesitation. Viktor looks at Ben before he deals with his son's human grandfather. Ben tries to protest to both of his fathers, but Sed takes him away from the scene, not wanting his son to see a fight between his family.

Ben transforms into his Thep Khufan form and tries to pull away from Sed. Seeing his grandfather in danger, Ben shouts out a big no before his Thep Khufan magic finally gets out of Sed's embrace. Confused about what just happened but knowing it's not important right now, Ben quickly tries to fly towards Max. Much like in the series, Max turns the shuttle around and makes Viktor crush the Corrodium ray, causing it to be destroyed and returning everything to normal.

Since the Corrodium ray was destroyed, the transmitter exploded with Jason receiving injuries but surviving the explosion. The crushing also accidentally caused Viktor's Null Void Projector to open a portal to the Null Void. Viktor and Sed are sucked into the portal while Ben watches in horror, as he didn't want them to be sent to a bad place.

The station is ready to explode and Ben runs back inside to help Gwen. When the two cousins reunited, Ben, who turns into his Ectonurite form, puts a spacesuit on her and is ejected into space with her. Luckily, Max shows up and pick the kids up.

Unlike in canon, Ben says that he wants to lay down and rest for the week, with Gwen saying that sounds nice while Max chuckles. However, Zs'Skayr ruins the moment by showing up and taking Ben. Zs'Skayr is disappointed that his plans to conquer the Earth are ruined, but is at least glad that he's able to take his son with him this time. But when Ben tries to break free, Zs'Skayr decides to gently knock his son out, a trick he learned from his own father.

Gwen apologizes to her cousin before shouting to Max while she opens the airlock and Max flies to the sun, destroying Zs'Skayr once again. Gwen immediately rushed to an unconscious Ben, relieved to see he was okay since he was still in his Ectonurite form.

The scenes after that changes. The shuttle is getting destroyed, but Gwen tries to use a spell to create a protective bubble surrounding her and her family. Seeing Ben still unconscious and how much he went through all day, Gwen creates a bubble around them at the last minute. Max is surprised but proud of her for saving them.

For the Anur aliens, Jason is found and healed by his people, Viktor and Sed get out of the Null Void with the help of Amun, much to Sed's annoyance, and Zs'Skayr is revived again by his people after the Tennysons left of what remains of the shuttle.