#River will never catch a break but I for one support that

[countessrivers]

Say more about the weird violent sexual attraction River inspires in the people he meets, please

With pleasure.

You see, it's all about, to start with, Spider, and his psychosexual obsession with River (RIP king, you are missed). It's about Spider ruining River's life again and again even when no one is forcing his hand. It's about the bitchiness and pettiness and Spider bringing up what River does with his dick during work hours. It's about those fucking faces he makes when River throws him up against a filing cabinet. He wanted River to fuck him so bad it made him look stupid (and also ruin River's life. and also in a roundabout way kind of got him killed. But you could also blame that on him being a dick. Again, RIP).

It's all about Spider concocting an elaborate plan to first, get River to angrily threaten and toss him up against things some more, all while playing mind games, second, get the shit beat out of River, and third, stage a public humiliation scene where he reveals everything while his colleagues ooooo and laugh and clap along AND WHERE he both talks about the size of his penis and tells River to quit the service and instead go do porn on OnlyFans.

Also why are the Chieftan bros so into this? They don't know River, they have no stake in this. But see, that's just the effect River Cartwright has on people.

It's all about Duffy telling River he'd like to watch him get eaten feet first by pigs. Like, that's weird. That's violent. That's fucked up. Stansted and the Code September barely had any impact on Duffy, so why is he so angry? Why does he care so much? Why is he spending his time fantasising about elaborate ways for River to die? (see above)

It's all about the repeated threats of violence and Duffy calling him 'sunshine' as he and the dogs toss him into a car to be taken to a locked cell under the Park where Duffy will proceed to beat the shit out of an unarmed River while bringing up River's daddy issues. Which, he apparently knows about. And is apparently thinking about a more than 0 amount. Which is of course is normal and not weird.

It's all about Hobbs wanting to watch River humiliate himself in front of a crowd of recruits. It's all about Hobbs telling River he wants a recording of River humiliating himself in front of a crowd of recruits because he's going to jerk off to it, with an implication that he's worn out his old material which I guess may or may not have also involved River. And it's all about Hobbs then joining in with Duffy to beat the shit out of an unarmed River in a locked cell under the Park.

It's also all about the three of them in said locked cell talking a lot about River's dick and balls and potential lack thereof, while they beat the shit out of him.

It's all about how in the books Patrice kidnaps River, wrecks his shit, and then tells people passing by not to worry, his boyfriend is just having a panic attack because he gets claustrophobic on the tube. It's all about Patrice sitting down next to River, putting his arm around him to keep up the charade and whispering to him how easy it is/would be to hurt him. It's all about Patrice, later, kissing River on the cheek, telling him they'll talk soon, and then going off to murder his grandfather and Slough House colleagues.

(and it's, you know, a little bit about River doing the tossing of Spider up against things and getting one over on Hobbs and egging Duffy on while refusing to fight back and bringing up personal things that conflict with Patrice's brainwashed child soldier conditioning and I guess just in general being a beautiful, bitchy, blond man constantly getting into trouble)

[dewdropdinosaur]

Our Mom

LUCIFER x (F) READER Part One Summary: You like Lucifer and he likes you. One problem though: what will your 'kids' think? Based off an comment from @river-ride Warnings: NONE OMG!!! My lovelies, thank you so much for the support on my last Lucifer fic. Y'all are amazing! Remember, requests are open for lots of fandoms etc. Thank you so much for all of y'alls love and I appreacite you. For now, enjoy more Lucifer my dears!!

In the bustling corridors of the Hazbin Hotel, where the damned sought refuge from the fiery depths of Hell, Y/N was a beacon of warmth and solace. She was more than just a resident; she was a pillar of support, a confidante, and a pseudo-mother figure to many within those crimson walls.

Among those she touched was Lucifer, the charming and enigmatic ruler of Hell, who found himself inexplicably drawn to her gentle kindness and unwavering compassion. Yet, despite the undeniable spark between them, neither dared to voice the truth lingering in their hearts. Despite being quite close after the battle with Heaven and the rebuilding of the Hotel, neither party could seem to bring themselves to speak their feelings. 

On one hand, Y/N feared two things: that Lucifer could never like a lowly sinner like her and that since she was a pseudo-mother to all of the hotel’s residents…dating the King of Hell may cause a few setbacks in relationships that she desperately did not want. Y/N loved each and every resident in the Hotel, an older demon herself who never had the chance to have her own, everyone under the crimson fading roof became like a child to her. She adored Angel’s compassion even in the midst of despair, she loved playing cards with Husk(who definitely didn’t let her win to see that small smile of hers), time spent chatting and planning with Charlie was always a blast, and yes…even time with Alastor listening to old jazz tunes had found its place in the grand scheme of things. So, her feelings for Lucifer would have to be put on hold indefinitely for this arrangement not to break.

On the other hand, Lucifer the King of Hell himself was a wreck. Every time he saw Y/N, her smile, the way she carried herself with compassion but still headstrong it made his knees buckle and he could have sworn he was back in Heaven. She was like an angel, ironically so. He fully knew of her past, her sins. Yet, she was so willing to help and assist others at a shot of redemption she knew she could never have struck a chord within the lonely ruler of the Underworld. 

However, one fateful evening, as the residents gathered in the grand hall for their routine meeting, tensions simmered beneath the surface. Charlie, along with Husk, Angel Dust, and Alastor, had grown wary of Lucifer's aloof demeanor towards Y/N. They knew of the unspoken affection that brewed between the two, and they were determined to push the devil to confront his feelings(or perishing for daring to even look at Y/N was another option considered by some…ahem…Alastor and the beloved Sassy Narrator) 

As the meeting progressed, Charlie cleared her throat, catching everyone's attention. "It has come to our attention," she began, exchanging knowing glances with the others, "that certain... feelings may be harbored within our midst."

Husk smirked, Angel winked mischievously, and Alastor's grip tightened, his eyes glinting with murderous amusement.

Lucifer's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he let out a breathy chuckle, sensing a trap. "And what feelings might those be, my dear? I surely hope no animosity has been brewing."

Charlie gestured subtly to Y/N, who stood by the sidelines, her gaze fixed on her ‘children’ around her. 

"Feelings of a... romantic nature, perhaps?" Charlie smiled but her eyes were nervous. She knew her father well enough that it was indeed time to move on from Lillith and Y/N was no better candidate, doing a better job than Lillith herself ever did. But what if she was wrong and her father really had no interest in her ‘new’ mother. Or the other way around?

A collective murmur swept through the room as the residents exchanged curious glances. Y/N's cheeks flushed crimson, and Lucifer felt a strange warmth spread through his chest at the mention of romance.

Clearing his throat, Alastor leaned forward, his grin widening into a smirk. "Now, now, Lucifer, don't be shy. We all know how dear Y/N is to you. Why, if anything were to happen to her, well..."

The implication hung heavy in the air, and Lucifer's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you threatening me, Alastor?"

Alastor chuckled nonchalantly, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement as he waved his hands in a circular motion around his cane which made ominous shadows appear around Lucifer’s chair. 

"Merely stating the obvious. After all, we wouldn't want anything untoward to happen to our dear Y/N now, would we?"

The tension in the room was palpable as Lucifer's jaw clenched, his gaze flickering between Y/N and the others. Husk flicked his claws open, Angel smirked with a glinting knife in hand, and even Vaggie tilted her head to gesture to her angelic spear. All of them were in agreement… ‘hurt our mom and you will wish you got to die a second time.’ 

 Sensing his inner turmoil, Y/N stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm.

"Lucifer, you don't have to listen to them. Whatever you feel, whatever we feel, it's... it's our choice." 

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as Lucifer met her gaze, his expression softening with an unspoken understanding.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, he stepped forward, his hand reaching out to cup Y/N's cheek tenderly. "Perhaps... perhaps there is truth in what they say," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But know this, my dear Y/N: I would move mountains to keep you safe, to cherish you, for as long as you'll have me."

A soft smile tugged at Y/N's lips as she leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with a newfound sense of courage and hope. "Then let's face whatever comes together," she whispered, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

And as the residents of the Hazbin Hotel looked on, witnessing the delicate dance of love and redemption unfolding before them, they knew that no matter the trials that lay ahead, Y/N and Lucifer would weather the storm together, bound by a love that transcended even the depths of Hell itself. 

And even if something did ever happen…well they would kill the King himself without a second thought and Lucifer knew it. 

[hornyjorny]

following the river

summary: almost a frame-by-frame fanfic of river's scene in-game, but better :3 ish!! an- guys i am so fucking sorry i haven't posted in fucking AGES i've been absolutely dogged with work n shit and i'm depressed as fuck. anyway. here's to my loyal river fans (all twelve of us) hashtag justice for river ward ive literally spent months on this for no reason warnings- smut (18+ mdni), cowgirl, first time, you're both nervous as fuck, multiple positions, switch!v, switch!river, fucking the police, johnny ment, oral (f receiving and very brief lol), missionary, mild angst with cavity-inducing sweetness at the end, river and v are very much in love, cuddles

wc: 9.2k

If you had told yourself you’d be spending the night with an NCPD badge a month ago, you woulda’ laughed in your very own fuckin’ face. But between those heated kisses and those soft, hushed whispers, River Ward leads you by the hand into the silence of his bedroom— and it all feels far too unreal. 

But the truth is, reality is a bitch. And now here you are, tangled in a contradiction of your own making. Guess you misunderstood the whole “FUCK THE POLICE” thing. 

He oughtta be chasing you down, not holding you close. But fuck, this whole situation with River is just so thrilling, and it’s absolutely undeniable that he’s more than just some badge. 

There’s kindness, there’s goodness in him that transcends that old, dumbass uniform he used to wear. Night City may be bleeding, and Johnny Silverhand may be a relentless presence in your head, but River offers something more—a promise of a future beyond the consistent chaos as he leads you into the quietness of the trailer. 

To be honest, you’re not sure if you’re entirely in love with River— sure, you’re attracted, and sure, your heart beats a million times faster when he’s around, and sure, you think about him all the fucking time, but shit, you don’t know love. But fuck, whether you deserve it or not, there’s just something about him, you don’t know what feels… safe. 

River represents something you’ve never really had: hope. The hope for a promise of an actual future— a real-ass life. Not just surviving but living— happily, at that. 

And for tonight, that’s enough.

Never before have you encountered someone as gentle, as fucking sweet as River. His kindness, his sincerity, it's like a lifeline amid chaos. But with each tender moment, each stolen kiss, you can't shake the gnawing feeling of guilt eating away at you. Oh, how you don’t want to feel this way, but here you are regardless, falling and falling for River, and allowing yourself to embrace the sensation of being vulnerable in more ways than one. And oh— is it such a bad time to catch feelings; your time on this earth is limited. 

You’re a merc, one with a ticking timebomb of a narcissistic rockerboy lodged into your head, just waiting to take over your body, waiting for you to finally kick the bucket so he can take control. You’re not exactly girlfriend material. You’re neither beautiful nor are you admirable. You are tired. You are bruised.

You're a mercenary, a killer by trade, and here you are, falling for a cop—a man dedicated to upholding the law you so often break.  

You know you should push River away, distance yourself before it's too late. But goddamn it, you can't bring yourself to do it. 

It’s almost funny, you think. Funny to have found a love oh-so-precious—oh-so beautiful, only to have it ripped away from you by a little piece of plastic nestled in your skull. River’s warmth, his unwavering support, it's all both a blessing and a curse. You desperately want to hold onto this love, to cherish every moment you have left, but the knowledge that your time is running out gnaws at your very soul. 

You sigh. Fuck, you know you can’t think about this now— you know it’s best to enjoy the moment rather than to trouble yourself with the moral implications of it all right now. You’ll destroy yourself otherwise. 

And little do you know, but River’s thoughts are mirroring your own. He's fucking scared, terrified of the way you've woven yourself into the fabric of his life. As a detective, he's seen the darkest corners of Night City, the horrors that lurk in the shadows. But when it comes to you, he's lost, unsure of how to navigate the maze of emotions that swirl within him.

You're the very embodiment of everything he's sworn to protect the city against. And yet, he can't help but fall for you. Behind the walls you've erected to shield yourself from the world, he sees the vulnerability, the genuine warmth that draws him to you like a moth to a flame. But there's a part of him that fears the truth, that fears what he might discover if he delves too deep into your world. And as you stand together in the silence of the night, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but wonder if this fragile bubble of happiness is destined to burst, leaving nothing but broken pieces in its wake.

The linoleum floor creaks beneath your steps as River leads you further, navigating the narrow hallway. Anxiety continues to brew within him—shit, he just hopes you like him back.

He hopes his choice is right. He hopes he made the right choice by bringing you around.

But all of the chaos, all the fear building within, completely evaporates away when his eyes finally meet yours, his anxiety dissipating into nothingness. Tonight, all he wants is for the two of you to be one, where nothing in the world matters. It makes everything else seem so distant and minuscule, and that, oh, it’s the closest thing to heaven that he’s ever known.

Nothin’ else matters—except for the moment.

River pauses at one of the entryways, silently gesturing to his niece and nephew, sleeping peacefully. You understand what he’s communicating to you immediately.

You two need to be quiet tonight.

Tonight is the perfect time to forget that you’re a mercenary and he’s a cop. No badges, no guns, no uniforms—and no parasitic rockstar in your head, either. Just you and him.

So you nod your head in acknowledgment as you ease past the kids and follow him into the silence of his bedroom. Your stomach flutters in your chest; oh, fuck, you feel like a couple of giddy-ass teenagers. 

You’re relentless, in all the right ways. Your desperation to feel River, to kiss him— it’s intoxicating. Once the door clicks shut, you immediately rise up on your tippy-toes with zero hesitation to press your lips against his; you could do nothing else. 

Fucking finally. 

One kiss, and you know you’re addicted to the taste of his lips on your own. You know then, that nothing else could give you such a natural high. You must confess, that your thoughts are impure, and the fire is burning within your bones. Shit, it excites you so much, just the idea of riding him absolutely senseless— you’re gonna fuck away his entire moral compass by the end of the night. 

It’s as your lips press together, with all the desire arousal, and heat you have to offer, a wave of cruel exhaustion washes over you as River embraces you, finally making its way to the forefront of your mind. His warmth almost feels like a blanket, of sorts, soft and comforting.

A soft pleased hum escapes River’s lips as he presses himself against you, moving his hands to grip the back of your head tightly, returning your kiss with the same raw passion. His arms are wrapped around your waist, his body pressing against yours— fuck, it feels so nice to be held by a body that feels like home. 

And for once, it's not Johnny who takes over your thoughts, but River. You need him—now. The heat of his lips on yours is fucking intense. It's like everything else in the city fades away, and for once, even Johnny’s presence is just a distant buzz in your mind.

And all there is, that's all that matters—River, you, and the rest warmth of his lips pressed against yours.

Your fingers claw at the fabric of his tank top, holding onto him tightly as you kiss him with every ounce of passion that’s been building up within you for entirely too long. You’ve wanted this—you’ve fucking needed this, needed to feel the warmth of another in a world so dauntingly cold. 

Every breath feels new, every sensation is amplified, and all you can focus on is River. River, River, River. He’s real, and you feel him like never before. He’s yours, and you’re his. 

Your breath is getting shorter, and your thoughts are being consumed with just one word: more. More, more, more. You need to feel his love. 

How good it feels to have something real. And fuck, is it nice to have something else on your mind except for your impending and unavoidable death. No Johnny, no Arasaka, no Relic. Just you. Just him. Just two desperate people wanting desperately to cling to the idea of feeling alive for just one night.

You practically moan into his mouth as you lean back, letting his strong, secure arms wrap around your body. You press your body up into his, craving his warmth, craving his presence, craving him. It’s like you’re slipping into a deep trance-like state, one where all that matters in this very instant is River, this one fucking detective, this one stupid badge. 

“River,” you whine quietly. “I need you.”

The words slip out before you even have time to stop them, the sound of them leaving your ears ringing. 

Fuck, does he feel like the luckiest person alive when you utter those little words, the sound of them barely audible against the city’s distant hum? For such a tough merc, you sound so cute—so needy, that it makes his heart jump in his chest. It’s such an unexpected, quick change for you, and you swear you catch his mechanical eye shining a little brighter as his rough hands graze against your hips. His body presses tightly against yours, lowering his voice to a whisper that makes your tummy flutter.  

“Shhh… I know ya do, V…” 

The words feel so foreign slipping from his lips, but god, he can’t help it.  River leans even closer to you until you can feel the warm breath of his body tingling inside your ear—his lips press up against your neck softly, trailing little wet kisses up and down the sensitive skin there. 

“Just let go…” 

River whispers again, moving his hand down your back and caressing the skin that he can feel through the thin fabric of your shirt. His lips flutter up and down along your neck, nibbling gently on your skin. Rough, calloused hands trace down your body, before pulling your hips to his so there’s no space between you. 

River’s voice turns deep; husky. 

“Just let go of everything but me…” 

After all, he’s done for the city, for the world, no one has ever wanted him in such a way that they wanted him, not just his title, his body, but the person behind the piercing glow of his mechanical eye. 

River’s ganic hand trails gingerly up and down your torso, his fingers playing gently with the fabric of your shirt as his lips press against your neck. The delicate sensation sends ripples of pleasure through your core— fuck— you’re getting wet. 

His words trigger an immediate response from you. Excitedly, you push back against him as you moan quietly in his ear, fingers digging into the fabric of his red tank top— breath halting in your chest, growing shorter and more agitated. You raise on your tippy toes, attempting to return the favor by kissing his neck. 

As you push yourself forward, pressing yourself against him, pushing a hand behind his neck, your fingers grip tight along the back of his neck. Slowly, you brace one hand on his chest, your thumb rubbing along the hard muscle that hides below his shirt, your other hand falling to fidget with the neckline of his tank.  

You can feel it— he’s muscular; he’s strong and hard. He’s aboutta be all yours, and the thought alone makes you feel weak, weak in the knees with how hot he is.

When you’re slipping your hands below his shirt to feel the skin beneath, River’s steadiness finally falters. Unknowingly, he backs up into his desk, causing an empty beer bottle to topple over— crashing to the floor in the silence of the trailer.

Fuck. 

For a brief moment, panic seizes over your entire being. Shit. Your heart pounds in your chest, shit, shit, shit— what if you woke everyone up with the crash? What if he’s upset with you for pulling such a gonk move, fuckin’ shoving him into his desk? What about the mess? 

You swear you’re doomed. 

But to your surprise, River's expression softens, a hint of amusement dancing in his mechanical stare. Was his amn fault for being so clumsy, anyway. 

When the warmth of his lips caress yours, you feel a deep wave of relief. Thank fuck— you think to yourself as you realize that your actions didn’t cause all hell to break loose. 

Instead, he’s too amused by your excitement, and that only serves to turn you on all the more. Hell— River finds it adorable how badly you want him. He can deal with the mess later. He’s too lost in you, too lost in the tide of passion to give a shit. Instead, his focus is entirely on you, and all rational thought is overshadowed. 

His hands find their way to either side of your face, his touch gentle yet possessive, as if he's determined to memorize every curve and contour of your face. River stops, an urgent whisper, his voice barely above a breathy murmur. 

“You've got me. Don't let go. Don't let this moment, this feeling—this feeling of you and me, don't let it end.”  

But before you can even process the full weight of River’s words, his lips crash into yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless. It’s like a tidal wave, consuming you with its intensity, and you find yourself melting into his embrace without hesitation. You’re safe. 

In turn, you respond eagerly, matching his passion with your own, hands roaming freely across his back, pulling him closer with every passing moment. River hums to himself when your smooth lips part upon the brush of his tongue against you— feeling just right. You feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins, fueling that consuming lust that just keeps on burning brighter and hotter in your lower tummy. 

You guide his strong hands, urging him to explore every inch of your being, to revel in the depths of your desire as you surrender yourself completely to the intoxicating bliss of the moment. You need him. The feeling of his sends shivers down your spine, you realize that this—this connection, this unspoken bond—is what you've been searching for all along. In River's arms, you find solace. In his kiss, you find passion. And in that little bit of love between you, you find home.

Like you, River’s mind has started to go hazy, his body filled with heat as he pulls you in tighter, desperate to feel everything at once. 

The embrace of your lips turns heated, desperate, his teeth brushing against your bottom lip. Shit, he can’t believe you’re allowing him to touch you like this— he feels like the luckiest fucker in the world. The heat rising in his body is nothing short of intense, it feels so right. 

But he needs more. 

River pulls away to break the kiss, his gaze slides across your body, admiring you silently, taking note of every little curve, burning through you, silently admitting how lucky he is. Oh, how he never realized desire could be so engulfing until this moment, with you staring right up into his eyes with a vulnerability he cannot ignore. It makes him feel fuckin’ stupid— like he could live in this moment forever. 

His movements are slow and deliberate. It's enough to send your heart pumping, your chest heaving, your breath coming in short gasps. When you meet his steely gaze, it feels like his mechanical eye is bearing into your soul. 

River moves a palm up to cup your cheek lovingly, before nodding his head in the direction of his bed— a silent command. You immediately know what he’s attempting to communicate. You know what comes next. 

And you’re just dying to see it through. 

A little rush of pure excitement overtakes you as you rush to the bed, while River turns around for a brief moment. Without a second thought, without any semblance of hesitation, you’re immediately beginning to fumble with the straps of your gear, allowing it to fall all to the ground. Every movement of yours feels like a wave of electric pulsing through your body, a rush of adrenaline that leaves you panting— leaving your mind blurry with need. 

While he’s got his back turned, you rip off your sweats, letting them fall to the ground. Immediately after, you’re ripping off the thin tank you’re wearing, slipping your bra right off with it, fully exposing your bare chest to the coolness of the night air. A little excited shiver runs down your spine, your nipples perking up and stiffening as a result of the temperature drop. 

And before you know it, you’re almost naked— wearing nothing but a soaked, think pair of panties, wanting him, needing to have him—not Johnny, but River, just River…

You catch the soft mechanical glow of his eye in the mirror on the closet door. For a brief moment, your breath catches in your throat. 

The glow in the reflection dims as he stares. Your heart beats so fast you feel dizzy from the rush. You know he’s watching you just as you’re watching him. And without saying a word, you both know what you want— he finally turns around. 

Fuck—you, the most dangerous mercenary in the whole fuckin’ city, is laying before this dumbass detective, wearing nothing but your panties. And oh, you’re so helplessly wet over some cop to the point where you can already feel the moisture soaking through them. You can’t control yourself, you can’t control the way your fingers keep on trailing lower, beginning to push away the dampened strip of fabric in between your legs. 

A breath breaks from your mouth as you toss your panties aside. It’s sudden, a bit of a surprise even. But you’re done wasting time. The air feels cold on your exposed cunt, but fuck, you don’t care—besides, the heat he’s making you feel is enough to keep ya’ warm. 

Gently, your lips tremble with each passing moment... your body is fuckin’ craving him more and more with every moment that passes with him staring directly at your messy pussy. You can’t take it. You allow yourself to be completely vulnerable, your arms trailing behind you as he draws near. Your eyes flutter as you anticipate him being near, letting him take you completely... letting him take you in.

River’s eyes are locked onto your body— he’s in shock. Fuck. Jesus Christ, every second you’re up looking at him with pathetic, needy eyes makes his cock tremble in his pants. Both of River’s eyes, amber and mechanical pierce through you, just craving you in ways he's never craved fuckin’ anyone. And oh, you love the euphoric burning feeling that rises in your tummy when you feel him stare. A little blush settles across your face, you feel some wetness slide down from your aching cunt. You arch your back a little as River approaches you. 

Fuck. You can’t wait. You reach out, pulling your fingers tight around his hips as you pull him down to the bed with you. You can't wait another second to be with him and you pull him down with you on the bed. Before he can even process what’s happening, you’re beginning to lift his tanktop, and by Christ, you’re not disappointed when you finally reveal what’s underneath. 

You’re not religious, but in the darkness of his bedroom, you’ve found something holy. Immediately, your eyes trail down, taking note of every little freckle and scar that litters his tan skin. Fuck— he’s perfect. You press your lips against his chest, trailing little wet kisses down his body... each kiss burning into both of you, each kiss driving you both that much closer to desperation. You’re unaware of the self-restraint he's exercising to keep himself from pushing you onto the bed and just fucking you right then and there. River’s working every ounce of self-control he has as you trail your lips down his chest, letting each kiss linger just enough to tease him. 

In the dark room, you worship him with your touch, with a love that’s so undoubtedly wrong. 

Your eyes drift up to his, and it’s over for you both. Gently, you slide your hands slooowly down River’s torso, making him squirm as your hand trails lower and lower, fingers beginning to move to slowly undo his pants. And fuck, It takes him every little bit of lasting resistance and strength he has to let you touch without intervening. 

But shit— you aren’t gonna let River off that easy, no fucking way. You’re gonna fuckin’ savor this—every second of it all. Your lips trail down his clothed thigh with a subtle grin, wrapping your fingers around the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down inch by inch. He wants you to pull them off immediately but you're going slow, savoring every little cute expression he’s pulling, savoring the way he bites into his lip, hard. 

 River’s getting more and more frustrated by the second but damn you're just enjoying the thrill of it all, watching your most favorite detective bend to your whims like an obedient, well-trained dog. You're teasing him and savoring each and every second of it, every little moment of him letting out pathetic heavy sighs, every moment of his cock straining against the fabric of his jeans. 

But you’re growing impatient. 

You begin to tug at his waistband, attempting to pull his jeans down his thighs with a not-so-secret smug-ass grin. You’ve got him wrapped around your fuckin’ finger, you feel confident—you’re gonna fuck the badge outta him— you’re gonna ride him till the goddamn sun rises. 

But when his cock springs free from the confines of his pants, your ego is absolutely fucking wiped. He’s fucking huge. 

Prominent veins run up the side of the thick shaft throbbing with pure anticipation. Your eyes trail up to the leaky, swollen tip where little beads of precum threaten to spill. Pure perfection. Everything about your actions up until now has been so confident and so sure, so controlled and so certain you could handle anything. But now that he's here— that he's out, free, and soooo clearly ready for you — you feel an intense wave of doubt. 

You're the best, most badass fuckin’ merc in all of Night City—and yet here you are, with his dick in front of your face and you're speechless. River’s enjoying how you're staring at him, your eyes fixated on his shaft. Secretly, he loves the brief sense of control this is giving him, even with you on top. Fuck, it does good for his ego. 

By Christ— he finds your reaction to his size nothing short of fucking adorable. River gives a sharp inhale through his teeth and his lips curve into a mischievous smile, his ego swelling with the realization that he's a lot more than you expected...and he loves it. He knows all the right words to say, all the right tones to take, and he knows exactly how to play with you, right down to the way you're staring at him. 

Nonetheless, you set your thoughts aside as you mount the detective’s strong bronze thighs, his eyes locking onto yours.

You briefly question your safety as you tenderly wrap your fingers around the base of his thick shaft, feeling him jolt beneath you. 

But it's okay. You've got this. You can do this. You take a deep breath and try to ignore the size, your hands still stroking him gently, your touch sending shivers of anticipation up and down his body…

His hand wraps around your thigh in silent reassurance, a giant grasp that feels like it was molded entirely for you to fit perfectly into it; and the other falls to your hip, slowly tracing a path across your bare skin. The little gesture sends you fucking wild. River needs you to be comfortable. 

You press the tip of his cock against your dripping entrance, a little shiver runs through you when River stifles a groan underneath. 

This all feels so right, this all feels so real, and River wants you to know that. He wants to take all of your fears and worries away, to show you that he's got you, and he's here for you. And when you take your first tentative slide onto him, the tip entering you, River’s jaw hangs agape, a little squeak leaving your lips as the thick head enters you. 

You both recognize the need to be silent, and so for now the only sounds in the room are the soft moans and subtle whimpers coming from River's mouth as he's pressed against you...as you're pressed against him, two bodies entwined, one in the other. Nothing else exists at this very moment but this feeling... the intense, overwhelming feeling of his heavy cock throbbing inside of your tight walls. And oh, does the thought of making this dumbass detective whimper and struggle beneath you motivate you all the more. 

When you finally sink down, filling yourself to the brim, a cute little gasp! is forced from your parted saliva-coated lips. River’s stretching you out so so nicely— it’s a sweet type of burn. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip hard, biting back a pathetic moan as your eyes scrunch shut.

 A low growl escapes River’s lips as you suddenly take him whole in one go. 

Your wet walls constrict and clench around him, your achy, needy clit pressing against his groin. Oh fuck, it’s hard for him not to start moving his hips, to just start thrusting into your pathetic mess of a pussy without mercy. But no, he’s waiting for you, waiting for you to guide the speed. This is your night, it’s River’s chance to show how much he fuckin’ adores you. 

He's big— and you know you need to take it slow at first. But fuck, you’re not gonna stop, not now, not ever, not when he’s looking up at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes upon— it’s sending little waves of euphoric bliss throughout your entire body.  

River watches you take another deep breath before you begin to raise your hips again, pumping yourself full despite the stretch. 

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. You continue this rhythm slowly, taking your own sweet time to thoroughly feel each inch of his sweet cock rubbing against your soaked walls. 

In, out. In, out. You continue this rhythm. 

You work through that burn— you work through the pain of the stretch. Take your own sweet time, inhaling, exhaling, breathing in between each movement, each wave of pleasure that ripples through your body with each bounce. Soon, you no longer feel the pain that comes with each slide down; you’ve melded to the shape of his cock. 

Shit, he underestimated you. 

River’s breathing heavily now, huffing and biting into his lip—as he takes his time, taking care of you. And the moment he finds your rhythm, he won't be letting up even for a second, he’s gonna make you suffer just the damn same. 

But when you begin to speed up your pace, suddenly slamming your hips down into him, you’ve got him locked. 

Then and there, River swears he’s in fucking heaven.

You’re so tight— so fucking soft… so fucking heavenly, that he can’t do anything except look up at you and purely just admire as you struggle to take him—as he himself struggles to keep up with the pace of your hips. 

River’s pussywhipped already, turning his head to the side to hide the adorable little faces he’s pulling. 

But fuck, you’re not gonna let that happen. 

“Look at me,” you whisper into the silence of the night. You force his jaw upwards, wrapping your hands around his throat. “Only me, Riv.”

River’s caught off guard by your sudden display of dominance; but oh, how he loves it regardless. ‘Looks like his little mercenary finally gained the courage to take control,’ he thinks to himself. 

You catch a little mischievous glimmer in his mechanical eye, shining into the darkness. He’s enjoying this, you can tell. 

You stare into his gaze for just a brief moment; almost mesmerized, before suddenly pulling his face to yours and kissing him fiercely, your tongue slipping into his mouth. 

River’s strong grip on your thigh releases as his body begins to tremble underneath you; it all just feels too fucking good. It’s all too too much, the intensity of your hips rocking back and forth, the way you’re squeezing him and bouncing on his dick like it’s nothing compared to before. 

He knows you’re a merc, knows you’re a tough girl. You’re V— you don’t take shit from anyone, you take the reigns no matter what; he shoulda’ expected this from you. But oh, how he loves being bested by his lil’ merc. 

River’s eyes roll back as he holds you tightly to him, his hands moving up to your lower back and supporting you, he’s lost all self-control, and can’t stop what's about to happen as his breath grows heavier, lips parting. You’re fucking wet, clenching so so tight around him—he can’t help the groan that juuusst barely escapes his lips…

But luckily for you, you cover his mouth just in time, your body still moving with such intensity.  You're taking total control here, not letting him make a sound. You cover his mouth before he has the chance to protest, silencing him in an almost aggressive, dominating way, your breath hot against his lips.

At this moment, the detective is yours. Every muscle in his body belongs to you and every beat of his heart is for you. River is yours, he needs you, and when you cover his mouth, you can feel the rush going through his throat as it contracts with an effort to muffle any sound he might unintentionally let slip as your hips refuse to relent. 

The feeling of control that you've been so desperately seeking is finally yours, all yours, your hands are on the wheel— and you’re the one sending this poor fucker into a tailspin of pleasure and lust. River feels so much better than you possibly could’ve imagined, and shit, you’ve finally accomplished your goal to fuck him senseless, leaving him a complete and utter mess in your control — a mess that feels so good, as you keep pumping against him, feeling him inside you.

Every movement you make is met with his equally intense counter-response, his cock beginning to throb. Fuck. He’s close. 

But River’s not going to let you get ahead of him— nuh-fucking-uh. He’s had enough of your teasing; he can’t take it anymore— he’s not about to let himself cum before you, not when there’s so much fun still left to be had. He’ll drive himself to the edge— and he’ll take you with him. 

Strong hands take hold of your hips, hammering his hips into your sweet, messy cunt at the pace he desires. Just like that, all the control in your hands, all that dominance, and power beforehand, is gone in an instant. 

He wants to let you ride him, he really does. Wants to let you take control— but fuck, it’s not enough. He needs more, not just to ride, but to have you in his arms, and in return, you let him take control and show you exactly how he feels for you. 

And so you give up your control, giving up your dominance, allowing River to manhandle you into position, guiding you to the edge of the bed. Your breath catches in your chest as River trails his lips down to your collarbone and slowly reaches down to latch onto your nipple. You dig your teeth into your lip as he suckles at it tenderly, keeping your reaction a secret as you try to keep it together. Inside of you, you feel your tummy flutter with adrenaline as your heart rate picks up.

He knows you’re enjoying this, but oh, he’s got other plans for you. 

With strong yet gentle hands, he’s hoisting you up into his arms. His amber eye meets yours, and he’s gazing at you like you’re the most precious thing in the whole world. He lifts you, and you let yourself go limp in his hold— you know you’re safe, after all. 

You bury your head into his neck, pressing tight against him as you cling like your life depends on it. Everything feels so good when you’re in River’s arms when he loosens his grip to trail a path of wet kisses down the center of your chest. The way he feels so warm and safe makes you feel like the whole world isn’t crumbling down on you— instead, it feels like you can finally rest. 

Honestly, it’s just entirely him that makes you feel this way. He’s a stark contrast to any of your past lovers; a genuine shining light in a world so filled to the brim with darkness, a genuine positive change compared to the ways apparent in all of your exes.

Shit, you know Johnny’s gonna hate you even more for this, but you know you love this— you love River. 

Before you can think about it for any longer than you already have, he’s cutting your thoughts short to pull you to your feet, pinning you against the cool glass of his bedroom window. 

Fuck, you’re adorable to him. River just can’t help but slide his palms up against your soft skin, all the way up to cup at your titties, cupping them softly in each hand.

You let out a sharp gasp as he slips in, a deep inhale following quickly after— his hips pressing into your ass. You feel the heat of his breath against your neck as you cling to the cool glass of the window. You want him close, you want to feel him all against you. Your thoughts fill with nothing but him, and his cock begins to roll into you again, forcing a pathetic little squeak out of you. 

But there’s a sudden thought that pops into your head— shit, what if someone sees this, sees you, pressed against the window, getting your insides rearranged like there’s no tomorrow? Fuck.  

Shit, you feel more vulnerable than ever with River pressing himself into you, hands locked around your waist, his breath hot and heavy in your ear as he drives himself deeper into your sopping cunt. Him, the detective, fucking the brains outta’ a dangerous lil’ merc like you. Shit, it’s so thrilling that the thoughts in your head disappear entirely, and you're completely overcome with the sensation of his thick member moving in and out of you.

God damn. Your breath becomes shallow and your chest is rising and falling with every hard press of his hips into your ass. You're literally pressed against the glass with your face to the window, your eyes beginning to close. 

Even though your brain screams for common sense, your body craves otherwise. 

Oh god, you love this. Fuck your common sense. Fuck whatever Johnny has to say about it— you’ll deal with him later. 

You feel like you're falling into a trance, drowning in pleasure. Every thrust fills you with more and more heat and waves of pleasure, overwhelming your body and leaving you feeling like you're drifting away into nothingness.

Your vision blurs and the sounds slowly fade into the background. River is everything, your entire world, and right now the only thing you can concentrate on is his body and how good he makes you feel— he’s stretching out your cunt fucking delightfully. It feels like you're drowning in pleasure and you love it, absolutely love this feeling of complete submission to him. Normally, you’d fucking never let somebody, anybody, do this to you. 

But River Ward is the exception. 

You love the feeling of his breath on your neck, the soft, warm comfort it gives you, like a blanket wrapping itself against you. Your body relaxes as he gently moves his hands along your ribs, his gentle touch sending a shiver of excitement down your body. Then you hear his voice, a whisper that makes your toes curl with the touch. 

River’s attention is set on suppressing his little groans of pleasure by lowering his head to your shoulder, biting down gently. Shit, you’re almost too much to handle, he notes your breathlessness and sense of being soo overwhelmed- he can tell you’re ready for anything and everything from this moment on. Your walls constrict tightly around him, arousal fluids spilling from your hole with each mean thrust. 

Your breath is heavy and unfocused. River’s touch is perfectly balanced between soft and rough, squeezing your waist as his other hand digs into your breast, hips still deliciously rolling into you, still deliciously fucking you. 

You can't even remember the last time you've felt this.. good. 

Despite the burn of the stretch of his cock, you steady your legs back, rocking your ass back against him to match the pace of his thrusts. 

River’s eyes shoot open when he feels your tight cunt starting to move up and down his length again, this time without his influence. Both his intimidating gaze and his large hands immediately fall to the fat of your ass as a groan rips out from his throat. 

He’s just enjoying the show as his pretty needy little merc attempts to get herself off. It’s cute— pathetic, the way you take him whole, the way you’re desperate for more.  

You feel the cool press of his metal hand against the back of your neck, using you as leverage to pump his hot cock in and out.  

Your lips curl against the force of your teeth, the heat of your breath fogging against the glass, legs beginning to violently shake under the weight of his thrusts. 

Both hands move to grab your plush thighs with a tight grip, your breathless sighs and tight cunt squeezing around him let him know just how much you really need him. 

You wanna moan. You wanna whine out his name, you wanna beg for more— but you can't. Not this time. So, you bite into your lip hard, your open palms set on the glass of the window briefly curling into fists. Instead of submitting to yourself, you focus on the brightness of neon lights and towering buildings right before your eyes, you focus on the way his hands dig into the soft flesh of your hips, driving deep inside. 

But it’s all too much for you. 

"Fuck, V, you're good…” His voice is hot as it trails down your neck and along your jawline. Gentle hands begin to trail down your thighs, fingers tracing along your skin. Oh, it’s heavenly. 

River’s eyes open when he doesn’t hear you respond past weak, breathy little sighs. A teasing remark sits on his tongue, his lips curling into a smirk, but his throat goes parched the moment his eyes trail all the way down to where his large, swollen cock disappeared in and out of you, just stretching you oh-so-well. 

You look utterly and completely debauched in the reflection of the glass, eyes closed, cheek pressed up against the window, your mouth slightly agape, lips reddened and bruised from rough kisses. River finds the way your chest heaves and the way you let out broken whines oh-so-adorable, as his eyes trail down to the plethora of lovebites and hickies left strewn across your chest. At this point, you’re far too fucked-out to think. 

Before you can even process what’s going on, River’s slipping himself out of you, making you let out a soft, yet audible little defeated whine. “Hey, hey…” Big arms lock around your waist, pulling you gently down onto the soft mattress below.  “Stay with me, V…” 

His voice is hot and hoarse right now— but fuck, you’d be damned if you didn’t find him to be so fuckin’ sweet— so fuckin’ adorable in the way he talks dirty to you— so damn possessive, yet so soft and tender at the same time. The sweet burn of lust ignites deeper within your stomach as you refuse to lose sight of his gaze. You nod your head; you follow his orders obediently. The feeling of being vulnerable like this for him feels so... right, so natural. 

When your glassy eyes flicker up to meet his stare, his heart flutters a little in his chest. You look so so desperate, it’s beautiful. 

River swears he’s truly gone feral. It’s all too much— your cute little face, your quiet whimpers, wet pathetic pussy so in need of being fucking destroyed… god. He can’t handle it anymore. 

He drops to his knees on the bed— it feels natural, it feels right. Your breath halts a little in your chest, your pulse quickening when the detective begins to lower his head in between your thighs. 

The world around you spins as your cunt squeezes around nothing. His rough fingertips grace over your clit, and you can’t hold back the little moan that escapes your lips. But he’s focused on something different— his cybernetic eyes are locked onto your cunt— your folds are soaked, your arousal coating your inner thighs in little tendrils.

“Wan’it?” 

You nod again. Like an obedient dog. 

River grins, mechanical eye gleaming in the darkness mischievously as his metal hand helps his cock press against your entrance. Something about his gravelly words made your cunt clench around nothing, making you drip onto his sheets below. His tip brushes against your sensitive sloppy folds, before he nudges your clit with his cockhead, drawing out the cutest little gasp from your lips. River chuckles at your reaction— fuck, you’re goddamn adorable. He uses his free ganic hand to caress your cheek, looking down at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen. 

The feeling of his palm pressed against you is soothing, comforting even. You nuzzle into his touch instinctively. 

It’s all a sweet, tender moment before River begins folding your legs up to your shoulders. You don’t have a second to think back on it before his thighs spread wider beneath you, the girth of his large cock sliding in deep, pressing thickly against your fluttering walls. 

Fuck. You almost lose yourself, then— lips falling agape, nails biting into the curvature of his bicep as his hips press flush with your own. You want to moan. You wanna cry out— so so fucking bad. 

But you know you can’t. 

Shit, River swears he could bust on the spot from the way you pathetically look at him, pupils blown and watery, eyes halfway shut. “Awh,” he whispers near silently before he braces himself and pulling your hips up to his waist, leaving your back arched gorgeously. You feel completely full again. 

His hips are finally still, giving you both a moment to recuperate. This time around, your cunt clenches down extra tight, your body seeming extra sensitive. He can read your reactions like a book— and he’s enjoying every little cute reaction he’s pulling out of you. 

River hums to himself, before straightening back again. He pulls out all the way— till just his aching tip is left throbbing inside of you. 

And all you can do is watch when he rocks back in and out again and again as if testing how deep he’s claimed his pretty little killer.  

But with a muddled mind and blurry eyes, you’re more focused on how he’s moving, the way his body moves back and forth inside you, claiming you. Your instincts kick in as this strong man overpowers you and takes control of you most dangerously, but you accept it all. Just the feeling of his hands on your hips, his touch all over you as you look at him...fuck, you feel complete. You’re a dangerous merc in her prime, and yet here you are, fucked absolutely dumb by River Ward. Fuck, old man’s got some goddamn stamina, it’s impressive. 

But secretly, he’s not sure if he can take it anymore— the pace of his hips falter for a second. Fuckkkkk. He grasps onto the meat of your thighs, his hips beginning to falter, slow down; his thighs beginning to tremble.

The overstimulation that comes with dragging his cock in and out of your tight pussy might just be the catalyst for him. He uses his remaining strength to hold himself deep inside of his lil’ merc, relishing the way you dig your nails into the curve of his bicep as he fucks into you steadfastly. 

Now, it's you who's not sure if you can take it anymore. You can feel his hips slowing down, his grip on you faltering as he struggles to pull himself together. Your nails dig into his arms, digging deeper each time you feel that familiar feeling building up within you. Your thighs start trembling as your entire body is quaking underneath his...it's about to be all over for you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to control yourself like he had when you were trying to lure him deeper into you, but the build-up of pressure inside of you is too much to contain...it's beginning to spill over as the tension between you two builds up even higher. Your eyes continue to flutter with each slide in, and you’re panting at the burning euphoric release beginning to bubble in your chest. It’s all too much for you— far too much. 

River’s dick knocks against your plushy walls over and over again, making your breaths ragged and short, making you spew out little high-pitched hoarse sighs as he claims you as his own after waiting for sooo long. 

Every thrust inside of you has you trembling, panting, trembling again—your body can't take this anymore, the build-up is beginning to turn into a burst within you. You close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly as this burning euphoric release inside of you is simply too much....too much for you to handle. Your entire body feels like it's boiling over, the pressure inside of you reaching an all-time high. 

The pressure building up in your tummy is too much to handle. You’ve resisted your orgasm, you’ve fought it, but suddenly the need for release becomes too difficult to hold back. Your body jolts up and you press your chest against him as you release, panting and whimpering as the pressure inside you is finally releasing. Finally, you cum, coating River’s cock in a ring of opaque white liquid. 

The feeling of relief spreads through your entire body as you release, feeling your body tense and shudder with your inner pleasure flowing out of you as you moan out his name and you feel his grip tightening the harder that you bite into his arm, holding back from saying anymore even though you know you can’t keep it in anymore. Your lips quiver with anticipation as you feel the build-up of pleasure rise inside of you, and it’s so hard not to just explode but you hold back as he thrusts faster inside you.

His hands are shaky under the weight of your trembling thighs, underneath the weight of your explosive climax. His thrusts slow down to a halt, both his mechanical and ganic hands gripping your waist tight. 

Deliberately, he slides himself all the way out, making you feel every inch of his cock down to the last vein, before slamming himself back inside one last time. 

No longer can he stand the feeling of holding back— he needs to cum. 

Every pump of his hips is accompanied by a short shudder and an exhale of your name as he’s losing himself to you, to the grip and clutch of your nails digging deeper into his arms. You know he’s close. And oh, is every little sign of his oncoming orgasm so so heavenly— the way his cock noticeably throbs within your constricting, gummy, tight walls—  the way he’s allowing the occasional whimper to slip from his parted lips.

Your entire body’s trembling and quaking as he pulls away from you, both in the act of withdrawal and the satisfaction of fulfilling what he’s sought after for so long now. You’re breathless from his touch, quivering in your body, your eyes unable to focus on anything but the sight of him biting his lip…he's so so close to cumming— it’s all so damn delicious. 

His mechanical hand presses into your thigh, the heat of his grip burning deep against your skin as he strokes his length, his breath shallow as he looks down at you, his eyes focused. River’s metal hand grips meanly into your thigh as his ganic’ one strokes his length, biting down hard into his lip to suppress himself.  

Instead of gazing back into his eyes, you’re gazing down at his glistening dick as he finally cums— the liquid is thick, warm, and milky, all splattering onto your lower stomach. 

The feel of his release all over you leaves you gasping as reality sets in. Once the heat disappears and the sensation finally dies down, you’re left with a whole new wave of emotions that you haven’t ever experienced before. Your body is still shaking from the release, and his breath is heavy as he looks down at you. You two are a mess. 

River lays down there next to you, panting heavily as he stares over at you. His breathing is quick and heavy, and he's completely out of breath from the entire night, but he's smiling slightly, a look in his eyes that seems almost...relieved and content. You can’t help but to just admire how fuckin’ adorable he is before he reaches over to brush your hair aside, wiping the sweat from your forehead. 

River’s soft with you— in your line of work, there’s no room for this much tenderness. You melt underneath his touch, a satisfied little sigh escaping you as your eyes flutter shut. You’re finally feeling comfortable enough to relax with him, to let your guard down and allow yourself to be a little soft with him. You feel at ease with him— finally at peace with not having to constantly be on high alert. You can relax.

But River’s all too aware of the mess he’s left you with. Gently, he lowers himself to you, softly murmuring in your ear. 

 “Just one sec, V… gotta get you cleaned up.”

As he stands, you're left helpless and vulnerable. The warmth of his touch is gone, replaced by a chill that leaves you feeling a little empty. Rivers' footsteps echo in the silent space between you as you lie there, alone in your thoughts.

The intimacy between the two of you may have faded, but the lingering after-effects remain. Your body is still trembling from the release, and your mind is clouded with the remnants of ecstasy. You’re left feeling vulnerable and exposed. A mess. 

As River's footsteps echo through the room, you feel helpless and weak. Your body has been taken by him, and you’re left behind. To be cleaned up. You're his.

When he returns, he has a soft, warm towel in one hand, and one of his tanktops in the other. He places the tank top down on the bed right next to you. River's hand reaches out and starts to gently wipe down your body with the cloth, working to clean up the mess left behind. His touch is gentle, tender, and caring. You appreciate his efforts to clean up the mess he's left you with.

You feel like a mess, his mess. His hands are gentle and meticulous as he cleans you up, his touch different from the rough grip you felt during the night. His soft touch is comforting, reassuring, and so at odds with the intensity of the night. Yet, at the same time, it shows the other side of the intense man you know so well. The delicate one, hidden from the world.

He’s not squeezing or gripping tightly— just gently wiping you down, making sure not to squeeze too hard as he does his best to get you clean. His touch is tender he begins wiping you down, making sure to avoid the more sensitive areas like your inner thighs, and before making his way up with the soft cloth. 

You feel yourself close to slipping away into a deep sleep, only for his warm voice to pull you back into the present.

“Hey…V,” River murmurs softly. “Got a shirt for you…” He’s grinning as he holds up a crumpled-up tank top he had set aside earlier— a small grin forming around your lips as you see the words “FUCK THE POLICE” printed across the front.

”Figured you’d like it…” he chuckles faintly, holding it up for you to take.

Despite your exhaustion, a little giggle leaves your lips at the sight of the printing on the front. Fuck, he’s adorable. River’s smile is contagious, filling you with a type of fondness you haven’t experienced in a long goddamn time. You graciously accept the shirt, sliding it over your head, a soft sigh escaping you as it settles over your frame. The fabric is soft, and it keeps you covered from the coolness of the night air. It’s a little big on you, but you like it that way— it’s comfy, and you’re beyond grateful for the little gesture. 

River slides into bed next to you, remaining silent as he watches settle. His eyes wander up and down your body, appreciating the way the fabric of his shirt hangs loosely around your frame. He likes the look, and it’s cute. It’s not something he’s used to, but the sight of you like this— it’s endearing to him.

You can feel the exhaustion creeping in, settling into your bones after the long day's events. As he watches you settle in, you can sense his silent appreciation and affection, his gaze tracing the lines of your body with a softness you haven't often encountered.

"Thanks for tonight," River murmurs, his voice filled with gratitude and a hint of weariness as a yawn interrupts his words. He briefly presses a little kiss to your forehead, before rolling over. "Goodnight, V."

His words linger in the air, carrying a sense of appreciation and tenderness that touches your heart. With a soft smile, you reply, "Goodnight, River…" before snuggling closer to him, seeking his warmth as the chill of the night settles in around you.

The two of you lay there, entangled in the silence of your first night together. All you can hear is the sound of his breath against your throat, the silent rustle of his sheets, and the faint thrum of his heart. You feel so safe, so warm, so loved in his arms. River radiates a sense of peace within you, one that you hadn't felt on your own. And with him comes a feeling of protection, a feeling of belonging.

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do - Part 6

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

🥰So another part to this series, thank you so much for all your support and encouragement! It means the world ♥️ and as I take your feedback seriously, I can assure you Tommy will be looking for a housekeeper substitute 🤭

Word count: 3,138

Y/N prayed silently her dress would close, Ada suggested getting it slightly loose at certain places just in case, because overnight, her belly was showing and most of her clothes wouldn’t fit anymore. It was funny because it only looked as if she was bloated but it was enough for a zipper to break.

“You ready?” Polly asked just as she knocked on the door, stepping in right away. As usual, she looked so elegant in her attire.

“Her dress is beautiful Mrs. Gray.” Y/N’s grandma pointed out making Y/N blush, she then turned to Polly. “And you look stunning.”

Polly nodded acknowledging her compliment.

“I can’t believe I’m wearing this gown.” Y/N stated staring at her reflection in the mirror, she looked like a completely different person with her hair up in a simple but elegant hairstyle, make up in just the right places, accenting her features, and the dress fit like a glove. She had never had a dress like this.

“You need something else though.” Her grandma suggested, she looked beautiful in her attire too, the Shelby family were too kind to extend an invitation for her.

Opening her bag, Y/N frowned confused by what she meant, she had everything already.

“Your grandfather gave me these when we got married.” From a velvet pouch, she produced a pair of gorgeous diamond studs.

“I think these will look beautiful.” Polly encouraged, feeling a swept of love by the exchange.

Y/N on the other hand felt lost for words, to some it might be a small detail, but to her, the sentimental value it’s what weighted the most.

“These are meant to be wear on occasions like this, right?” She asked holding one of the earrings for her granddaughter while she hooked the other one.

“Looks like you’re all set then… let’s welcome the guests.” Polly added taking grandma’s purse to help her. “Everything’s going accordingly so far.”

The music filled the big room, people were dancing happily, champagne flowing, staff filling empty cups with booze and plates with appetizers. Y/N felt particularly mesmerized by the chandeliers catching the light beautifully and reflecting all around as if it was dancing as well.

Tommy insisted the party should take place in Arrow House, said it would be a good excuse to do a grand opening, so she immediately got busy to have everything ready. The place oozed luxury everywhere she looked, the most important names in the country RSVP’ed faster than she thought. Never in her wildest dreams she imagined how it would turn out, she spent so much time choosing flowers for the center pieces, napkins colors to go with the tablecloths, tableware as well as the menu, days of hard work paying off finally on this night and for a brief instant, she allowed herself to feel proud because she took care meticulously of everything.

“I’ll be back in a minute, need an ashtray.” Polly announced and took grandma by the arm to chat for a while.

Y/N was taking everything in, still not fully believing it was a reality.

“Johnny, get everyone in the kitchen.” He instructed. “Five minu-“ words got caught up in his throat as he took a double look to his left and found Y/N standing by herself next to the staircase.

Her hair was pinned up, framing her face so it was fully on display instead of hiding, the dress made her look gorgeous but the cherry on top was the glowing emanating from within her heart, pregnancy was suiting her well. He then noticed she opened and closed the handbag nervously.

She wasn’t the same girl that used to run with him a race at an open fiel until they reached the river. He let her win so many times… yet that girl was somehow still in her.

He had never seen her like that before. She was more beautiful than he imagined.

But as soon as the thought entered his mind, Tommy kicked himself mentally. He shouldn’t think of her that way.

“Are you planning to give someone a heart attack?” He joked and took a few long strides to be at her side.

“I’m nervous,” she chuckled, “I’m the one having a heart attack.”

Turning around to face him, she felt her mouth going dry, the blue suit was a fabulous choice. It wasn’t traditional, but when she saw it at the tailor’s shop she knew Tommy had to wear it to the event and since she got a blank cheque, she added it to the account. He was so bloody handsome, but she thought that he looked even more that night. There, with a cocked smile and proud shining in his crystal eyes…

They stood there holding each other’s gazes, the people in the background fading away…

Until Johnny Dogs interrupted them.

“The boys are on their way Tom.” He nodded at Y/N. “Are we going, yeah?”

Tommy gave Y/N another look and she encouraged him with a smile to go.

He started to walk away, but then stopped abruptly and turning around he spoke; “Y/N you did an amazing job, thank you.”

Reaching his expectations was all Y/N wanted to achieve, to make him proud of her work. It was the way she knew in retribution to thank him for every little thing he did.

“And Johnny? Y/N told me she counted the paintings ey?” Tommy turned to give her wink. “So you better tell your kin they can’t steal anything or they’ll have to deal with a very pissed Y/N.”

Y/N gasped, of course she didn’t count the paintings. An evident blush covered her face and neck and she started shaking her head in embarrassment.

“Hey! That’s not true.” She tried to keep her manners, but her mind went back to when they were teenagers and her grandma discovered the two of them sneaking into the kitchen to get a slice of the pie she had baked and Tommy blamed it all on Y/N, the worst part is that her grandma believed him and scolded her granddaughter when it had been Tommy’s idea in the first place.

“Where are they, ey?” Tommy asked impatiently a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“I’m telling you now, we got lost,” announced Arthur. “You really need to do a map, Thomas.”

“Right, boys you’re all here.” Tommy started in a warning tone.

The blinders gathered around him in a circle.

“Tonight it’s a fucking very important day, we’re celebrating the Arrow House grand opening.”

“Yeah, and you said there’d be no bloody uniforms.” Interrupted John.

Tommy shot him a death stare. “Nevertheless… nevertheless, John… despite the bad blood, I’ll have none of it on my carpet.”

They were part of the guest list.

He made a pause and looked around to his men. “Now, for Y/N’s sake, nothing will go wrong. She has worked so fucking hard for everything you see tonight and the Shelby Institute. And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything…”

“Tom?” Once more, John interrupted his brother.

“What?”

“What about snow?” Asked Isiah.

John replied something that Tommy couldn’t understand, but he felt his blood start boiling by their silly attitude.

“No, no, no.” He stood in front of the young blinder. “No cocaine.” Then pointing at his face, he repeated; “no cocaine. No sports.” He then moved to point at John. “No telling fortunes. No racing.” Walking back towards Finn, he continued. “No fucking sucking petrol of their fucking cars.”

He hated to admit it out loud, but he was nervous to. He wanted to fit in, he needed to blend in among the richest and more powerful people, to be one of them. To prove everybody that he had been able to claim a stair that was only reserved for those who were born in a crib made of gold.

Meanwhile, upstairs Y/N attended several guests, listening to the stories they were sharing about how much it would mean to them to donate and give back to the community. Some of them, Y/N learned were important politicians who wanted to show a good image to help them gain voters, others members of the aristocracy just wanted to show their wealthy off. Whatever reason they had, Y/N was excited to see some of the cheques they were writing right there for the institution, additional to a monthly donation they promised.

Finding Tommy among the guests, Y/N approached him to ask him if she could save the cheques in his office.

“Can we see this later?” He relief not even sending a glance in her direction, his eyes were fixed like daggers in someone.

As he moved around like a gazelle, about to chase his pry, Y/N noticed a group of women eating him with their eyes, looking him up and down, seizing his frame, biting their lips, probably wondering how would it feel to be with him….

Y/N felt like she was out of place, she shook her head and decided to ask Ada instead where she should keep the documents. She then excused herself for a moment, feeling like the happy bubble had been popped given Tommy’s cold attitude. He was never like this, he had never left her talking alone before, but he had been a bit off the last couple of days.

For some unknown reason.

Perhaps she had been creating a fantasy in her mind, yes he was a good man, but he also had an explosive temper when he wanted to, he snapped at people at the slightest provocation. Why would he treat her differently? Just because a she was pregnant?

A knock on the door disturbed the peace she just found, and without waiting to be asked to come inside, Tommy called her name.

“Y/N you’re needed downstairs.” Tommy informed her, but he knew her too damn well. When Ada told him that Y/N was taking a minute on her own, he knew she wasn’t comfortable about something.

“What happened?” He asked patiently. She shook her head, not wanting to make a scene. “Hey, hey.. come here.”

It was everything, her pregnancy, her nerves, the bloody hormones, mood swings, worry to make everything perfect… him.

“I hope you don’t take personally what happened earlier, I was looking for someone that wasn’t invited.” Tommy explained.

Y/N looked at him tentatively. She walked into the en-suite bathroom to wet a cloth and press it into the back of her neck, careful enough to not get a stain in the dress, he followed her steps and took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. The familiarity and comfort between them was too personal.

“Is this why you’ve been acting distant the last couple of days?”

With a sigh, he nodded. “Yes, I act like this when I’m scared.”

Y/N turned around pondering into his words, giving him time and space to speak on his own terms.

“I need to make sure you’re away from this business. I don’t want you to get involved at all. Do you understand?”

“Tommy what’s happening?” It all made sense to her now, the secret phone calls, the late night drives, his mood.

“The less you know, the better.” He cleared his throat. “Promise me you won’t make something stupid.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, he was the one always making the bad decisions she wanted to say instead.

“You won’t get involved.” He was firm about his statement.

“Only if you promise to be safe.” Y/N retorted.

“I’ll try my best.” A soft smile played on his lips.

She mirrored the smile and followed him outside, to join their guest one more time.

“Mr. Shelby! This is a wonderful party.” Mrs. Lewis praised, she was the wife of a former major, a bit extravagant, she loved to show off. “And a beautiful house.”

“I appreciate your words. But all the credit goes to Y/N.”

“So the old wives tale is real huh? That babies come with a bunch of blessings.” She squinted her eyes happily at Y/N’s baby bump, then looked back at Tommy. “Congratulations! I wish this baby nothing but the best.”

Y/N opened her mouth to correct her, and clarify that Tommy wasn’t the father. But Tommy cut her out.

“Thanks, hopefully you’ll be able to help us with the fundraising.”

“I’ll tell family and friends, you can count on that Mr. Shelby.”

As the woman disappeared, Y/N turned her face around to look at him.

“Let people talk, they’re going to do it anyways.” He stated, then as a waiter passed by, he took a glass of whiskey from the tray. “Rule number two; never reveal the truth when they can barely deal with a half truth.”

“What’s number one?”

“Oh, I’d tell you… but then I’d have to kill you and I’d be kind of sad you know?” He winked at her and elegantly strode towards where the music band was playing to grab the microphone.

“Good evening everyone, thank you for joining us tonight. As some of you may know, the Shelby Foundation Institute will open doors in a couple of weeks, we’re sure with this project we’ll be able to help many many children in need, grant them the education their parents can’t afford and a safe environment to learn and develop the abilities that’ll will help them in a near future.” A round of applauses filled the room and Tommy thanked the guest with a small nod. “Your contribution is highly appreciated, it will allow us to complement and provide everything that’s needed. I can assure you, your money will be well spent and we’re more than open to welcome you any time at the Institution.” His eyes started moving across the room. “Last but not least, I’d like to thank to the responsible of this project, the one who since day one showed a genuine interest and despite the doors that were closed in her face, she never backed down until this was a reality. Y/N thank you for everything you’ve done.” Raising his glass in her direction, he recognized her effort and compromise.

Blushing from getting all the attention towards her momentarily, she started biting her lip.

When Tommy started walking, people over to the side, making something similar to a human wall and leaving a space free for him to walk until he reached Y/N.

“Dance with me?”

The gesture took her by surprise, but soon Tommy’s arm wrapped around her waist and he started swaying to the beat of the music.

“Everything is perfect, thank you for taking care of every little thing.” He admitted with a very rare smile.

Carefully to not make Y/N dizzy, Tommy spun her around, following the music beats.

“Thank you for taking us in.” Y/N replied as a wide smile spread on her lips.

Feeling like nothing she could say or do was enough to thank Tommy. She’d be in debt with him for the rest of her life.

“You’ve nothing to-” he started to say but she cut him off.

“I do, every single time I blink, I feel so grateful to have you in my life.”

Tommy gave her hand a squeeze. “If things were different… wouldn’t you do the same?”

“Yes.” She admitted in a heartbeat.

“Then this better be the last time you thank me.” He raised an eyebrow as a warning, but his eyes remained giving her a gentle look. “I know you’d do the same thing for me.”

One more careful spin and the piece was done. A round of applause filled the room and the background noises brought them back to reality.

“I’ve to go, stay here, stay safe.” Tommy stated. “You know what to do in case something bad happens.”

He had already showed her where to hide in case anyone broke into Arrow House. It wasn’t his favorite outcome, but he had assured her it was for the best of she was prepared. Luckily he hadn’t show her how to use a weapon, but she knew the day might be closer than she thought.

“Tommy…” her heart started hammering her ribcage, she could feel it in her ears too. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

The look of worry he found in her eyes made him fight the lump in his throat. If something happened to him, what would she do? Who would protect her? Who’d look after her and the baby?

“Will do. This is the last ilegal business, you know I want to make it right.”

Clearing his throat, he looked around finding Arthur giving him a nod, they were ready to go.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He assured her once more.

As a different music started to play, Y/N went on to search for her grandmother.

Meanwhile, downstairs Lizzie was crying and smocking in such a bad shape after having a word with Michael about Angel, she started shouting when she heard what they did to his restaurant, she was fuming.

“Miss Stark can I help you?” Mary asked, smoothing her apron.

“Do you’ve a gun? So I can shoot someone?” Lizzie wiped her nose.

“No ma’am.” Mary took a step closer. “May I ask what happened?”

“The Shelbys blew my boyfriend’s restaurant so he couldn’t come to the party.” She tried to smooth the black mascara under her eyes.

And she started to whine and bent into the maid all she knew about the stupid rivalry between the Shelby’s and the Changretta’s.

Mary ignored Lizzie’s past, she only knew she was her master’s secretary, so she felt naturally bad for the green-eyed woman.

“I don’t get it, Thomas gets to have the little happy family with Y/N and also dictate who am I able to be involved with.”

“But they aren’t a family, the baby isn’t Mr. Shelby’s.” Mary dropped an unexpected bomb.

Lizzie stared at her in disbelief, her jaw dropping.

“Are you sure?”

“The motives of why he keeps her under his protection are unknown to me, but he isn’t the father of that baby.” The housekeeper assured her.

Lizzie nodded automatically, processing the news and thinking how this piece of information changed a lot of things.

“So Y/N is a little slut after all.” She mumbled to herself, planning in her mind a couple of ideas that would tear down that facade of integrity and good morals Y/N carried around like a crown. A woman’s reputation meant much more than anything.

And of course, it didn’t match the wealthy people standards.

Master list

TYSM for reading! Remember your feedback feeds a writer’s soul 🥰✨

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[soulc-hilde]

Game Shakers / Ch. 1

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

Pairing: Eminem x Black!Fem!OC [King]

Warning(s): Cursing, drug abuse, racial discrimination, sexual assault

Summary: 2000s seemed to be quite the highlight between the fashion and the rise of pop culture. Seemingly the new faces of shock value, rapper Marshall Mathers and rockstar King Woods seem to find a common ground amongst the unnecessary bullshit.

2019 - Interview

"I understand that you're not the type to talk about your personal life, especially your relationship. If you could, how would you describe meeting your wife and her band?"

Marshall bites his lip in thought for a moment. He nods, agreeing with the idea, "meeting her? It was funny as hell. What I thought about her and the girls? They're hardcore, even to this day."

1999 - Vans Warped Tour

Fame was a peculiar bitch and for some odd reason, she continued to bless King and the girls. One of the greatest gifts they received was the privilege to be a part of the infamous pop-punk music festival, Vans Warped Tour. 

Following a lineup of bands who were as new as them while others were considered veterans in the industry. Not to forget, there were even a couple of non-alternative artists joining the fun. 

Playing the main stage, their hit song 'Down with the Sickness' received great reception as the crowd beautifully replicated King's belches. If there was one thing that made the girls wanna break face on stage was the obvious diversity in the crowd that screamed for them.

The amount of women, especially ones who resembled King and Tink. It was clear that the band's presence in the genre was creating a positive change that only a handful of minority artists tried to achieve. Reaching the end of their stage, they played 'You Spin Me Round'.

As usual the girls explored outside of their marked spots, interacting with the fans. King would let the crowd scream the lyrics into the mic with a smile, Harley erratically swung her head until she was dizzy, Maliyah was strumming from the top of the stereos while security watched with intensity, Iris was spraying the crowd and crew with water, and Tink was crowd surfing with the confetti filled balls. 

Unbeknownst to them, a nearly petrified Marshall watched from the side of the stage where he was guided to wait for his moment to walk on stage. Beside him stood Deshaun, who couldn't hold back his laugh. 

"Well shit, Doody," the taller man smiles. "How the hell are we gonna beat that? I ain't never seen some shit like that before."

Marshall shakes his head, "I feel sick." He tries to run off only to be stopped by his best friend. Deshaun shakes his head, "no, the fuck you're not. Come on, man, we've been waiting for this. You ain't that kid who'd choke up anymore, you're the shit, Doody."

Their eyes catch sight of the sweat drenched woman come off stage, however, King was sporting an open wound on her eyebrow as dots of blood decorate her eye. Despite the obvious mix of worry and confusion on her members' faces, the leader walked with a grin.

As they went to walk past Marshall and Deshaun, the blond couldn't help his curiosity. "Aye," he calls out, "are you okay?" 

The girls turn to look at him, just now realizing he was there. King nods, "yeah. If anything, this just a regular day for us." 

"You bleed on a regular?" Marshall raises an eyebrow. King laughs, "not so much that. I'm really clumsy and the hardcore scene doesn't make it any better."

Deshaun joins in, "we just saw. That was one hell of a show y'all put on, never seen some shit like that." Maliyah cheeses, "just you wait, getting caught up with the crowd is a lot easier than it seems."

Iris leans over King's shoulder, "are y'all new here? I don't think I've seen your faces before." Her Canadian accent was clear and thicker than a Snickers.

"Yeah, I'm Eminem, but you can call me Marshall and this is my hype man, Proof. We're rappers," the bleach blond introduces, gnawing on a piece of gum.

Tink raises an eyebrow, "oh so y'all some new, new faces." Marshall shrugs, "somethin' like that." Deshaun waves him off, "don't mind him, y'all. He gets a little on the fence when speaking about rapping, white boy and all."

"Why? You don't gotta act all like that," King shakes her head. "If there's anyone who really understands, it's us. Despite the bullshit you get for being white, man, go ahead and shove your foot up their asses."

Before Marshall could respond, a small smile peaking across his face, a yell interrupts them. "King?! Girls?! What the fucking Hell?" 

They all turn around to see a tall, bodybuilder like man runs over the group. At first, Marshall tenses, impulsively judging him to be King's boyfriend. 

Harley pulls a 'whoopsie' expression, "let's go to the principal office, kids." King laughs, explaining to the boys, "that's Theo, he's our manager/big brother. He's only 34, but we've caused all his hair to fall out in a matter of three months."

Marshall snorts, quickly looking away. In the meantime, the group of five walk over to the stressed out Theo in hopes of deescalating his heartbeat. Deshaun pulls Marshall to the stage after a technician gestures for them. 

"Let's go, Doody," he smirks. "We can find the hottie with the tats later." 

2019 - Interview

"Wait, cause I remember that day, too," King laughs. "The first time I met The Eminem, I nearly scared the shit out of him."

The interviewer laughs, clapping his hands. "So, the late 90s-early 2000s was the peak era for both of your careers. How did you guys socialize being a part of two different genres, different entourages?"

King rubs the palm of her hands, "well... that's a good question cause we've both had a lot going on at the time. For the remaining of the Warped Tour, we hung out, but afterwards, we relied on calling each other."

"Wasn't he also with Kim at this point, as well? How did you take the idea of him being taken?" 

"Yes, they were together. I believe, that was the first time that they got married," King nods. "However, at the time, I never really cared or saw him in a romantic or sexual way."

"Really? Why?"

She shrugs, "it's simple, really. As the girls and I were starting our career in a vulnerable spot, we were more focused on trying to appease the public and our fans than we were trying to build a social life in the industry."

"Like, Iris and Tink had their sweethearts riding hard for them whereas Maliyah was stressing over the well-being of her family, and Harley and I were just focused on being the best we could be."

"And by 'vulnerable spot' in your career, what do you mean by that?"

King raises her hand, showing off the tatted backside, "Tink and I are black, Maliyah's Mexican with indigenous roots, Harley is mixed with Vietnamese and it shows in her features, and Iris is a woman pursuing a career in alternative metal."

She continues, "despite how open the alternative culture is supposed to be, it is very white male dominated and we were taking a risk at pursuing our dreams. Hell, our record label was taking a huge fucking risk with us."

1999 - MTV VMAs

It just seemed as if gifts just keep giving this year. The girls were nominated for a few awards and given an opportunity to perform on the VMA stage. 

Working with an amazing, family-like team, the girls had faith in being styled as a group without looking uncoordinated. King was dressed in a black, lace corset that stopped at her midriff paired with skinny, ripped black jeans, black leather fur-lined trench coat and matching buckled platform boots.

Maliyah was in a long, tight dramatic mermaid dress with a trail that was lined with black fur. The right side consisted of a slit that showed off her thick, platform heels designed with lunar and solar gold markings. Tink was in a one shoulder laced corset with black skinny jeans and heeled boots.

Harley dawned a simple black tank with a leather fur-lined trench that dusted the back of her knees paired with black denim bellbottoms and pointed heeled boots. Iris wore a black lace bodice silk gown that ended at her knees paired with furry sandal heels.

Posing for the paparazzi, they each posed accordingly. King and Harley simply stared down the lens while Iris and Tink grinned like the perfect celebrities and Maliyah showed off a smirk. Moving on, a journalist calls the girls over in hopes for an interview.

"Hello, girls," the woman smiles over her mic. "You all look so beautiful, today. What's the inspiration and who's responsible?" 

Maliyah answers, "we simply just went off of who we are and what fits. Now, who's responsible will have to be our amazing team known as Hoodwinkle. They just really know how to balance alternative looks with street looks."

"Well, you ladies look amazing," the reporter nods. "So, I just wanted you a couple of questions, if you don't mind. First one, how are you feeling tonight since you're nominated in four categories?"

Harley shrugs, "we wanna feel confident, but in reality, we're practically shitting our pants." The others nod, laughing. Iris adds, "I can't lie, I don't think any of us prepared a speech just in case."

King waves her off, "at least it'll be authentic if we win." The reporter laughs, nodding, "true. Next one, are there any artists that you've been waiting to see?"

Tink claps her hands, "Ms. Lauryn Hill." The girls nod in agreement. King adds on, "Smash Mouth. Our boys, Blink-182. Who else?" Iris chimes in, "and TLC."

Harley snaps her fingers, accidentally snagging King's nose ring. "Oh, my bad," she laughs at the playful side-eye. "Isn't there a newbie performing tonight? His name sounds like some damn skittles or some."

"Eminem?" The reporter asks. The drummer nods, "yeah. We met the kid a couple months back during Warped Tour, he's cool as hell." 

King and the others nod in excitement. "Oh, yeah," the leader laughs. "Add his tiny ass to the list, that's our boy." The reporter laughs, hoping to receive a story from the new information.

"So, you guys said that you met the rapper just recently, right?" She rhetorically asks. "What's he like? Is he as vulgar as his lyrics? How does he treat you since you're women?"

Immediately, the energy shifts as the girls take noticeable step from the journalist and her camera guy. Harley, Iris, and Tink shake their heads walking off whereas Maliyah tries to drag an agitated King with them. 

"First off, he's a cool ass guy who just wants to make music. Everyone is entitled to their own creative space, that's why things like songwriting and comic books aren't taught in school. They're considered creative works," King retorts. 

"And he's a gentleman who doesn't take bullshit, so piss off." She finally states, moving along with Maliyah. The reporter shrinks back in shock, not expecting a woman to come to his defense publicly. 

Taglist: @slytherinroyalty16

Series Masterlist

[vipernoir]

Snowflake

Little Lukanette fic! Inspired by the ‘snow’ from @lukacouffaineappreciation 7daysofLuka for Christmas!!! 🎅 I had a lot of fun writing this :)

Marinette is feeling stress from her everyday life of being ladybug, and with the stress of the holidays coming up she seeks out some comfort from a certain blue haired boy

Bittersweet Luka x Mari ~ post breakup

Why had she agreed to do it? She had enough to deal with right now. As if being Ladybug and secretly saving the city every other night wasn’t enough, she’d promised to bake Christmas macarons for her schools bake sale. Then she had promised Alya she would take her little sisters so see Santa tomorrow so she could see the last movie showing with Nino. On top of all of that she’d now promised Rose she would design and make an elaborate, angelic dress for the upcoming winter dance. It was a lot.

She was an overly helpful person, she’d always been this way. Saying yes was just a second nature for her, and she wasn’t very good at disappointing people. Her plate was always full, then once she’d eaten away at some of the responsibilities and the plate seemed a little easier to eat, it just kept overflowing.

Christmas was only seven days away and in typical Marinette fashion she hadn’t got a single present for anyone, well other then Adrien but she had his next 30 christmases sorted. They were just friends now, good friends too, Marinette never thought her feelings for Adrien could be platonic but here she was. Maybe she could regift some of the old Adrien gifts? After all she had still to buy a gift for her parents, a gift for Alya, as well as the secret Santa she was doing with her friends! Master Fu! Tikki!?

Marinette sank down on the stone cold bench by the river, shivering a bit as she did so. Paris seemed colder this winter than it had been any other. The cold air was thick, and glittery with frost, even with all the layers of clothing Marinette had on it was still freezing. Her thoughts outweighed the cold though, she was too busy worrying about everything to notice how red her nose and cheeks had become. Her eyes were too busy swirling with anxiety she hadn’t noticed the light frost falling on her eyelashes. Her mind wondered to him, and how much regret she had for the way things ended between them. She missed Luka, and with all her heart she still loved him, but she couldn’t bear the extra responsibility of loving him, it was too dangerous for them both. She was so deep in thought she hadn’t even noticed when someone sat down on the bench next to her.

“Hello Marinette.”

His voice took her by surprise, she jumped back startled, which caused him to cover his mouth, stifling a giggle.

“Luka! Sorry I didn’t even notice you. I was just ….”

“Overthinking?” Luka said smiling, shuffling a little closer to Marinette.

“Was it that obvious?” Marinette looked down, trying to hide her eyes, knowing full well Luka could read them like a book

“Your Marinette, you’re always worrying. You can talk to me about it you know.”

Marinette looked away, she always told Luka her problems, it seemed like a regular thing now to the point she was starting to feel guilty. Every time she went on crazy and rambling Luka just sat there, supportively listening and taking in her each and every word.

“Don’t feel bad about it, you’re my friend Marinette, one of my most dear friends. I’ll always listen to you.”

Marinette signed, knowing Luka genuinely wanted to hear her worries, “ I’m just getting so tired of it all Luka. Every second of my time is accounted for, and I can’t catch a break. There’s things that I have to do and things I’ve promised to do, and they’re all combining into one giant time consuming lump and I feel breathless. I think sitting on this bench is the first moment I’ve had to myself for weeks.”

“You’re a busy girl Marinette, you always seem to be rushing off to do something…important.” Marinette sunk down the bench, feeling guilty remembering all the times she’d made excuses during the dates she and Luka had been on, all of times she had to transform to ladybug and abandon her friends on liberty. After all she was the reason they’d broken up, and had make Luka so sad. “You have to take time for yourself, the holidays are stressful enough time for anyone. You’re an amazing girl Marinette, and you shouldn’t overwork yourself. You need to find the right balance, you can’t press every piano key down at once, it’s impossible, you’ve got to select what notes to play at the right time, and don’t play too fast or your fingers will ache.”

She giggled at his musical euphemism “Thank you Luka. You always cheer me up.”

“Anytime Marinette, I’ll always be here for you, even if it’s just as friends.”

Marinette paused, wondering if she should say what she wanted too, “I…I‘m still really sorry about that Luka, how things ended up. I didn’t want things to be that way, I don’t even think I wanted things to end at all. It was just all too much.”

She looked at his eyes, they were showing nothing but calmness and compassion for her. Luka was good at reading people but he was even better at hiding his own emotions. Marinette knew how much pain Luka hid, and she knew that pain was inflicted by herself. Luka put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, resting it on top of her pink, knitted scarf.

“I understand Marinette, and it’s okay.”

“No Luka it’s not okay! I didn’t want -!” Her voice trailed off and she could feel cold tears prickling in her eyes, the icy wind making it harder for the tears to stay dormant. Her hands instinctively covered her face, and she turned away in embarrassment.

“Marinette you don’t have to hide yourself, you’re beautiful even when you cry.” Luka whispered, slinking his fingers between hers and pulling them from her face before pulling her into a hug. “I’m here for you always, and I’ll put your feelings before my own because I know you need it. You’ve made it perfectly clear that I can’t know the truth, and as much as I want to know I respect that you can’t tell me. The little things that pile up on top though, they’re okay to tell me aren’t they?”

Marinette sniffled, throwing her arms around Luka returning the hug, “I’m always using you for advice and I can give you nothing in return.”

“But you do give me something Marinette, you give me your smile.” Marinette’s blueberry eyes met Luka’s, she had to admit his sweet words did bring a smile to her face, she didn’t consider it payment for all he did for her, but she still couldn’t stop her lips from spreading at his words. “It’s getting cold out, do you want me to walk you home?”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine, it’s not a far walk, but I think my dad said he can pick me up in his tour bus”

Marinette nodded and stood from the bench, and Luka followed suit. The glazed over path made Marinette stumble back, she was about to fall to the floor when a warm pair of arms grabbed her from behind, and set her back to her feet. “Thank you Luka, I didn’t realise how slippery it had gotten.”

“No problem Marinette, it’s just a shame it’s only icy and there’s been no snow.”

“Yeah I agree. Even though it’s the coldest winter we’ve had for years there’s still been no snow, Christmas doesn’t feel right without it.”

“Yeah, even when it does snow it doesn’t last long.”

“It’s honestly so pretty when it snows, I love how beautiful the city looks in snowfall I wish it would last forever.”

“That’s a nice wish Marinette, I don’t think it can snow forever but if I could wish for anything this Christmas I’d hope for some snow this winter for you, if it would make you happy.”

“That’s really sweet Luka.” She smiled at him.

“Actually I think I’m being a little selfish with it too…” Marinette cocked her head confused by what he meant. How could Luka ever be selfish? “I’m wishing for snow to see you smile, but mostly I think I’d like to see how radiant you look as the snowflakes float down behind you.”

Marinette just laughed, Luka always seeming so perfect. The two walked slowly through the slippy streets, looking at the twinkling decorations that lit up Paris. After a couple of more close falls from Marinette slipping, Luka took her hand firmly, arching his own arm as a support beam. Marinette blushed but said nothing, stealing glances at Luka when he wasn’t looking.

He looked so handsome in the crisp night, his soft, fluffy hair looked like a galaxy against the night. His eyes so brilliant blue, so full of the Christmas wonder. She hated being a superhero sometimes, she just wanted to be a normal girl who could have a normal boyfriend and do normal couple things.

“You’re overthinking again Mari.” Luka smirked, side eyeing her

“Sorry aha, I was kinda just trailing off from the world again.”

“Talk to me.”

“I just wish I was normal..”

“You’re not normal though, and that’s what’s so special about you. You have a tune that no one else can play. Everything about you is extraordinary. You’re like a beautiful, winter snowflake, each snowflake that falls is different yet every one is individually beautiful , and the more layers that form the more stunning you become.”

“You always know what to say Luka.” Marinettes cheeked turned crimson, now matching with her frozen cheeks and Rudolph nose. “Do…do you really think I’m as beautiful as a snowflake?”

Luka’s eyes darted up to the blackening sky and he smiled softly, turning his gaze to meet Marinette’s. “As beautiful as the ones falling from the sky.”

“What do-“ she started, before Luka span her round to see the first snow fall. Majestic white droplets dancing down to the ground, swirling around the landscape of the city, each droplet of snow that fell complimented the dazzling lights that decorated Paris.

“Looks like you got your wish.” Luka said smiling

“It’s so beautiful!” Marinette exclaimed running out towards the snow covered grass in the park, twirling about in the snow fall. Snow fell on her bluebell hair, and covered her shoulders.

“I got my wish too.” Marinette turned to look at him. He was stood watching her intently with such a loving gaze in his eyes, just pure adoration. Watching her excitement prancing about the snowy night, it was the highlight of his whole year.

“Merry Christmas Luka.” Marinette said pulling him into a snow covered hug.

Luka pulled her in deeper, planting a light kiss of her forehead. “Merry Christmas, Marinette.”

[whistleclangen]

Moon 3, Part 1.5

Flarepaw and Rainpaw make their way cautiously across Whistleclan territory towards where the old Whistleclan camp is located. Neither of them wants to be headed in this direction. It’s been three moons since disaster struck Whistleclan, but none of the three remaining members have any desire to return to the place where they watched their clanmates die. Luckily, they shouldn’t have to, they’re just… passing closer to that part of their territory than they have in a while.

They are making the journey to the Glowing Tides, Whistleclan’s Starclan meetingplace, for Rainpaw’s healer apprentice ceremony. Rainpaw is supposed to commune with Starclan and seek their guidance on how to move forward as a healer apprentice without a mentor. And Flarepaw… well Flarepaw is just tagging along for moral support and protection from the many potential threats that lurk in this area of the territory. 

It’s early evening, the sun setting low over the top of the cliffs above the beach that makes up most of Whistleclan territory. The ceremony has to happen when it’s fully dark out, but Flarepaw would rather travel at night as little as possible. He is supposed to be keeping Rainpaw safe after all. 

Their walk has been silent so far, but now they’ve reached the abandoned twoleg nest, marking the start of the easiest path up the cliffs. Flarepaw gestures with his head and Rainpaw follows him up the slope. They pass the waterfall and start moving into the forest. Rainpaw looks around in awe at this part of the territory, and Flarepaw remembers that she’s never actually been here before. Their flight from the old camp had been along the beach, not the top of the cliffs. This is the first time Rainpaw has seen this many trees at once.

“Whoaa, I didn’t know we had a whole forest on our territory!” Rainpaw breaks the silence between them.

“Well, Thicketclan has most of it on their territory, but yes we do have a section of forest allocated to us.”

“How come you never told me? I was so worried about having to gather herbs out on the beach. I don’t even know what kinds of herbs grow on the beach!” After a pause, she adds more quietly, “I guess I don’t really know what kinds of herbs grow in the forest either… That’s why I’m going to need to learn!”

Flarepaw is charmed and reassured by the younger apprentice’s enthusiasm. He’d been worried that she’d be more, well, worried at the prospect of learning to be a healer without a proper mentor. But he knows she has the guidance of Starclan on her side, and from watching her grow up, he knows that she can do anything she puts her mind to.

“We’re almost there,” Flarepaw lets Rainpaw know. “We just need to cross the river again up ahead.” Flarepaw catches a whiff of the Thicketclan border and reminds himself that this is the first time that Rainpaw will smell the other clans’ scents. He glances over to see her wrinkle her nose.

“What in Starclan’s name is that smell?” She asks Flarepaw, affronted by the assault on her senses. 

“That would be Thicketclan scent mostly, mixed with a bit of Heatherclan and Bluffclan too. We’re about to enter neutral territory, which means all the clans’ scents will intermingle.”

“Wow, I know you sometimes joke about how bad the other clans smell, but I didn’t realize you meant it so… literally.”

Finally, after crossing the river once more, the two apprentices reach the mouth of a yawning tunnel into the ground, the entrance to the Echocave where the clans conduct their full moon Gatherings. Flarepaw had only been to one gathering before the fall of Whistleclan, but still, it feels weird to see the Echocave so empty. He leads Rainpaw down into the earth and after a pause, she follows. The cave isn’t all that dark really, despite the late hour. The hole in the cave ceiling lets in enough starlight to see by, although the moon is closer to waning than waxing. It’s certainly no darker than the caves the call home. And then, they reach the mouth of the cave where the Glowing Tides can be reached. 

Flarepaw pads to a stop near the entrance and gestures at it with his plume of a tail. “Well, there it is. Briarstar said that no one is supposed to go in there except for healers and clan leaders, so I don’t think I should go in with you, but, well, good luck in there. I’ll be out here if you need anything…” Flarepaw trails off a little awkwardly, not sure what to say to someone who is most likely about to see the ghosts of their dead clanmates.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Rainpaw says quietly, leaning her head against Flarepaw for a moment. “I always feel safer with you around.” She smiles up at him–and since when is she almost at eye level with him, when did she grow up that much. 

Rainpaw turns to pad down the tunnel towards the Glowing Tides, but before she leaves the Echocave, Flarepaw calls, “Wait! Uh, if you see, well. If you see, y’know. Just.” He can’t find the words. “Just, say hi from me, ok?”

Rainkit feels tears beginning to well in her eyes, but she smiles at him again, sadder this time, and says, “Of course I will.”

[seeminglyranch87]

Taylor & Travis Timeline

November 2023 - part 1

November 1 - New Heights Podcast episode 61 airs.

Jason appears dressed up as King Triton however Travis neglects to dress up or share photos of a Halloween costume to fans disappointment. The brothers react to people dressing up in their likeness including musician Jax who portrays Taylor putting Travis on the map despite him being an accomplished athlete (x)

“She put me on the map, right there in the video.” “That’s so good, man,” Travis continued with a smile on his face. “God damn, that was golden. Hats off. That was well done. You get a round of applause for that one, I enjoyed that.”

Travis also includes Taylor in the Kelce clan as they sum up their Halloween show… “it's a Kelce Halloween”

November 3 - Travis questioned at Chiefs media conference ahead of game in Germany on Sunday

Asked in reference to Taylor: "What is the latest status and are you in love?" A team mate comments "spice it up... " Travis answers "The latest status is I got to see her last week. That's the latest status right there."

Travis is asked again if he is in love? He replies

"Im going to keep my personal relationship personal" (x 12:54)

When asked about if Taylor will be in attendance at the game Travis answers

“When I mention — or everyone knows — she’s at the game, the Vegas [line] and over-under on my catches goes up and down, The spread goes up and down. So I don’t want to mess with any of that stuff, I’m just going to keep that to myself.” 

Travis nicely avoids answering the question but mentions Taylor's attendance affects his game performance and stats.

Taylor pictured dining in NYC with Phoebe Bridgers

November 4 - Taylor is out in NYC with Selena Gomez, Sophie Turner, Cara Delevigne, Gigi Hadid, Brittany Mahomes and other NFL Chiefs WAG's at Bond St Sushi and later Zero Bond.

November 5 - Chiefs v Miami Dolphins, Frankfurt Stadium, Germany. Chiefs defeat Dolphins 21 - 14. Travis becomes the new all time leading receiver in franchise history.

Note Taylor liked this IG post below by People - we love a supportive girlfriend.

Taylor remains in NYC and watched the game from her apartment with Brittany and friends (x). Some of whom are seen leaving after the game.

1989 (TV) debuts at No.1 on Billboard 200!!! This is a re-recorded album!

Nothing like a celebrity couple breaking records ❤️‍🔥!

November 8 - New Heights ep. 63 airs. Jason and Travis hint that Travis is heading to Argentina to support Taylor during his bye week (x 35:05)

“Got anything you’re looking forward to going to?” Jason enquired of Travis. Travis responded, “No, not really. I might just say f**k it and just go somewhere nice, I don’t know. My skin’s getting real pale so I gotta go somewhere sunny.” "Some place south? south of the equator?" Jason asked. “Close to the equator” replied Travis "South of the equator?" Jason questioned with a cheeky grin.

Sources confirm that Travis is indeed joining Taylor on tour in South America via People.com (x)

Taylor is named Apple Music's Artist of the Year for 2023

Taylor Swift arrives in Argentina to begin the South American leg of The Eras Tour. She heads straight to the stadium to rehearse.

November 9 - The Eras Tour, Estadio River Plate, Buenos Aires, Argentina

Taylor debuts a stunning new Lover era pink costume, including leotard, boots and jacket.

The Very First Night (guitar) & Labyrinth (piano). Our girl is falling in LOVE again.

Travis Kelce attends the 15 & the Mahomies Foundation Gala charity event in KC. Taylor donated an item to be auctioned off in support of the cause.

November 10 - The Eras Tour, Estadio River Plate, Buenos Aires, Argentina is postponed to Nov 12 due to bad weather .

Taylor receives 6 Grammy nominations for the 66th Grammy Awards! (x) ✨ Album of the Year - Midnights ✨ Record of the Year - Anti Hero ✨ Song of the Year - Anti Hero ✨ Best Pop Solo Performance - Anti Hero ✨ Best Pop Duo/Group Performance - Karma ✨ Best Pop Vocal Album - Midnights

Aaron Dessner and Jack Antonoff post to IG congratulating Taylor on her nominations as collaborators on Midnights.

The Messenger release an article (x)

Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce Are ‘Fully Dating’ and Relationship Is Already ‘Serious’: Source (Exclusive)

"It is serious between Taylor and Travis," a source told The Messenger of the whirlwind romance between the pair. "They are fully dating and in a relationship."  The source continued that "neither of them expected them to move quickly, but they have been inseparable since they first connected. They see each other as much as they can during this busy season." "When they are not together, they are constantly FaceTiming and texting," the source added. "Friends around them think it is very cute and they are a great match. Taylor is having a lot of fun with the wives and girlfriends in the league. Brittany Mahomes has welcomed her with open arms and has really been the ring leader merging Taylor, her friends and the girl groups together." "It is a new era for Taylor and she is loving this season of her life," the source continued. "It is very different from her normal group of friends but they have all been having a great time going to the games and bonding together. Taylor has really had an open mind to this new world, and the girls think she's really enjoyable to be around."

Travis Kelce arrives in Argentina. Travis and Taylor dine with Scott Swift at Elena Restaurant, Four Seasons Hotel Buenos Aires . Travis and Taylor and are seen holding hands as they leave the restaurant. (x)(x)(x)

November 11 - The Eras Tour, Estadio River Plate, Buenos Aires, Argentina

Is It Over Now?/Out of the Woods (Guitar) & End Game (Piano)

Travis was in attendance and Taylor lived up to expectation and made sure we knew she had a new love in her life!

Highlights of the evening:

Travis joining in with the crowd singing "Ole Ole Ole Ole Taylor" and Scott Swift filming him (x)

Travis dancing and singing along all evening

Scott Swift wearing a Chiefs lanyard

Taylor turning to look at Travis during "Lover"

Taylor pointing to Travis singing "That's my man" during "Willow".

Taylor pointing to Travis singing "cause you know I love the players, and you love the game" during "Blank Space"

Taylor choosing to sing "End Game" - obviously with Travis in mind and red and yellow light up bracelets during the acoustic section (x)

Taylor singing "Karma is the guy on the Chiefs, coming straight home to me" complete with a little giggle during the final song "Karma" (x)

Travis' cute response to Taylor changing the lyrics in Karma (x)

Travis hyping up the crowd while waiting for Taylor to exit the stage.

Taylor running over to hug and kiss a smiling Travis backstage after the show (x) (x)

November 12- The Eras Tour, Estadio River Plate, Buenos Aires, Argentina (rescheduled show, see Nov 10).

Sl*t (piano) & Better Than Revenge (guitar)

Travis flew out earlier in the day in preparation to return to training in the USA

Taylor flew out immediately after show still in her Midnights costume.

November 13 - Taylor photographed out with Gracie Abrams in NYC

November 15 - New Heights Ep 64 airs Travis and Jason Kelce chat about their bye week and discuss what Travis got up to in Argentina, south of the equator (x 42:20).

Our bestie Jason draws out what we are all wondering about...

"Sounds like a labyrinth of issues" says Jason.

Oh Travis, she is falling in love with you, and Jason saw the Argentina Night 1 acoustic performance of Labyrinth too.

Referencing the lyric change in Karma;

"How does it feel to officially be 'The guy on the Chiefs'?" Jason teased Travis on the podcast. With a laugh, Travis said that he had "no clue" Taylor planned to mention him during her show. "Well, I might have had a little bit of a clue," he then admitted. "But definitely when I heard it come out of her mouth, [it] still shocked me."  "Yeah, you could tell in the video," Jason responded.  "I was like, 'Oh shh! She really said that,'" Travis marveled. 

When Jason notes that Scott Swift is wearing a Chiefs lanyard at the Eras Tour Night 3 he asks...

"What are we doing, Scott? You're gonna let this man's devilish good looks and relationship with your daughter sway you from a lifetime of fandom, Scott? Ridiculous."  Travis further explained, "I might have persuaded him at dinner the night before. When I met him." 

Travis commenting on the first Eras Tour he has attended as Taylor's boyfriend..

"The show was even more electric knowing that I had a little bit more to enjoy," he said of watching her perform in Argentina. "Taylor absolutely ripped it. She killed it and it looked like she was having some fun up there." 

We love to see the support Travis is showing to our little Indie artist.

We are to expect to see Taylor and Travis spending time together during the Eras tour break according to ET sources (x)

"Taylor has a two-month break in her tour, taking December and January off, and the couple is planning to spend more time together" during that time.

ET reports (x)

Donna and Ed Kelce, and Andrea and Scott Swift are expected to meet for the first time on Monday as the Philadelphia Eagles and Kansas City Chiefs face off for Monday Night Football.

We can expect to see Taylor at the November 20 game too.

Go to previous update -> October 2023 Part 2

Go to next update -> November 2023 Part 2

Return to timeline

[veiwryn]

spill the radioactive waste (tea) on the ezekiel plotline!

While I'm still plotting and rewriting the early changes (Aka Egypt and Japan), I would love to share some of the early Ezekiel plot.

Here's some passages I wrote in my notes.

Heather makes sure the stick would never go to Ezekiel. Out of everyone, she knows him the least, and there was no way she'd trust him with anything. Whether she keeps it or not—where it would go to Leshawna instead—the stick won't be lost. They won't lose a member.

The queen b might make a comment or two about Ezekiel's capability, mentioning he was the first to be voted off and how Zeke wasn't liked. It'd be out loud, either when the team first gets the stick or by the river. Regardless, it feeds into Ezekiel's insecurities���despite Lindsay coming to his defense—and Alejandro takes this opportunity to plot. If Ezekiel was vulnerable, he could have a man inside the enemy's line, find a way to take his largest threats down.

Ezekiel, from what we can infer before his departure in s3, is someone who craves support from his peers. And while he may have Lindsay (and Beth, had she participated and was on his team), it isn't enough. Almost everyone else couldn't care less about him and he hasn't been able to prove himself as someone capable. He wants to contribute to the team, and he's desperate. That's what catches Alejandro's attention. An outlier in a strong group, someone whom he could easily manipulate due to his eagerness to please.

Although Lindsay is still around, she needs to be taken care of. And with Tyler not being on his team, it makes the task easier to do.

Ezekiel unintentionally becomes Alejandro's pawn, believing the charmer wants to genuinely help him build a reputation. Although I'll explore that as I continue to rewrite the rest of the season.

This is also Alejandro's way of messing around with other teams without doing something directly. It helps him remain undercover for now as no one would think twice about Ezekiel's actions, and he's less likely to be caught red-handed by his team.

Will Ezekiel be the downfall for Team Victory, or will he break free from manipulation? Only time will tell!

[kilibaggins]

Hello! I would like to request bilbo/kili where kili gets a little protective/possesive of bilbo during the journey from the other dwarves. maybe with a little bit of bilbo having to calm kili down from trying not to fight the other dwarves when kili thinks one of them hurt bilbo accidentally somehow(dwarves forgetting their strength over bilbo). hope this finds you well and i cant wait to see what you write if you choose to do this :)

Important To Me | Kili X Bilbo

kili x bilbo baggins

A/N: I hope you like this! i love kili x bilbo so i was really happy to get this request going and im sorry it took a little bit! let me know if you want any more fics i will happily write them !! my requests are open <3 also i just realized i never went through and edited kili's name so for this one there's no accent mark over the i !! sorry about that <3

Warnings: confrontation, accidental harm, yelling, but i promise it's fluffy and there's no actual yelling between kili and bilbo.

Words: 1493

Might Post on Wattpad in the future !

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

Bilbo has noticed a few… Peculier changes in Kili. More irritable with the other dwarves, and more likely to jump into danger, it's like Kili has started getting… Protective.

It started with the trolls, which everyone might see as just a regular bit of protectiveness. Bilbo saw it as that, at first. It was just Kili stepping in to save him, there was nothing off about it.

No, the changes really started happening that night, When Kili gently took his arm and started touching it to check for bruises. Oin had offered to step in and do it but Kili snapped that he could do it just fine.

That was weird enough, yes, but then it got stranger. He started yelling at the other dwarves for every little thing around Bilbo.

Bilbo isn't easily breakable. He's had his fair share of roughhousing when he was younger, he's been hurt more times than he can count, and especially more than your average Hobbit, but even so being around these 13 dwarves can do a number on him.

They don't know their own strength. They push and punch and hug too tightly, and overall it's a painful experience for poor Bilbo who can't seem to catch a break from it all now that he's an official member of the company and has been accepted.

Kili will see this and react… Angrily? Bilbo doesn't understand it and he can't bring himself to ask because what if Kili stops caring? He likes the idea of someone caring for him, and that's why the dwarves including him in things makes him happy.

It's a regular day, they've made camp in some forest that Bilbo can't tell the difference from the last one they were in, and they're sitting by the fire.

Dwalin, in the heat of the moment and while laughing, slams his hand down on Bilbo's shoulder, and Bilbo winces. It's not even that bad, not really, but Bilbo still winces. Dwalin is quick to notice and move his hand and gruffs out a small apology, but apparently to Kili that isn't enough.

Kili quickly gets up and starts to yell, which leads Dwalin to yell, which leads to the other dwarves yelling, and Bilbo quickly gets up and stands between Dwalin and Kili.

"Kili, Kili! Hey, hey, I'm fine!" Bilbo says, putting his hand on the dwarf's chest. Kili is glaring over at Dwalin, Dwalin! Dwalin of all people! For accidentally hurting the Hobbit. It's not as if it's his fault, Dwalin just doesn't know his own strength when it comes to the burglar. Bilbo puts his hand on Kili's chest and pushes him away gently. The look on Kili's face morphing from anger at Dwalin to a little bit of hurt as he moves away from Bilbo and storms off is enough to make Bilbo feel bad for some reason. He huffs and mutters out an apology to Dwalin.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what has gotten into him." Bilbo rambles, talking with his hands. Dwalin though, isn't angry when Bilbo looks up. He just has a small knowing smirk on his face.

"You really don't see it?" Dwalin says, tilting his head slightly. Bilbo throws his arms out in confusion and Dwalin nods to where Kili ran off. "Talk to him."

Bilbo huffs a bit, fixing his jacket. He turns from Dwalin and walks off in the direction Kili went.

Admittedly, he should have thought this through a bit more. He's not good with tracking or finding his way in forests, so as soon as he makes it a bit too far out to hear the other dwarves being rambunxious he realizes he won't find his way back without the beautiful dwarf he's looking for. Bilbo grumbles to himself as he continues to walk and he makes his way to a small stream. It's beautiful, of course. Colorful rocks underneath the water, probably there for years slowly being eaten away at by the flowing water. Bilbo finds Kili sitting at the edge of it, his knees bent up and his arms crossed on top.

It's a sight, for sure. Kili with his hair lying on his shoulders sitting in front of a stream. It's a picture Bilbo would be happy to draw one day.

Bilbo makes his way closer, obviously tripping over stones because he can't be safe for the life of him. Kili doesn't look over when he approaches for a second and Bilbo worries if he speaks up he'll scare the dwarf, but then Kili starts to speak.

"Are you alright?"

Bilbo sighs softly and sits next to him. His shoulder is a bit sore from Dwalin earlier, but other than that he's fine.

"Yes," Bilbo says insistently. "I'm fine. I have been."

Kili stays silent for a while, just staring at the stream. He looks like a kicked puppy.

"I do not understand," Bilbo admits, huffing to himself as he turns from Kili and looks to the water. "I don't understand why you're upset."

"… I just want you to be okay," Kili says softly, looking over at him. Bilbo shakes his head and fiddles with the handkerchief that Kili found him.

"I am," Bilbo says again. Kili looks slightly frustrated again. "You don't have to worry about me so much."

"Yes, I do." Kili snaps, and then instantly deflates. He groans and covers his face. "I'm sorry."

Bilbo watches him for a moment and thinks about Dwalin's questioning earlier.

"Why? Why have you been acting like this? Dwalin is not the only one you've threatened in the past few days. Oin wanted to check a cut of mine and you practically pushed him away. You even snapped at Thorin. The King. Your uncle. What is going on?"

"I- I want you to be okay," Kili says again, and when he sees Bilbo go to argue he speaks again, "I NEED you to be okay."

Bilbo stops for a moment and looks down at the ground. Kili turns to him this time, gesturing with his hands for a second before talking.

"You are… So important. You don't-" Kili laughs, "You don't see it. You don't see how important you are or how much I care and It drives me wild! The trolls capture you, hurt you, and all you do after is apologize to us! Apologize to us? We're the ones who got you in that mess, to begin with! You get hurt by Dwalin and your first instinct is to let it go and you don't care about yourself! What happens when someone threatens to kill you and you just sit back and let it happen and then you die and you leave me-"

Bilbo looks at him in shock, floored by the rant but especially the last part. He goes to speak but Kili interrupts him again.

"You are… You're…" Kili doesn't know how to proceed and deflates. "You're you. That's why I'm worried because you're you and we- I need you. I-I love you."

Bilbo doesn't know what to say. He must look ridiculous with his mouth gaping and a confused look on his face, his eyes teary. He can't force a sentence out as he lets out a harsh breath. He instead reaches forward and takes the dwarf's hand. Kili holds Bilbo's hand and for a moment the only sounds in the forest are the wind blowing through the trees, and the water flowing next to them.

"You can't…" Bilbo says, confused. Kili… The nephew of the rightful king under the mountain. He's royalty. He's a part of something much greater than himself, there is no way that Kili loves him.

"I do," Kili says quietly. he turns from Bilbo and shakes his head. "I understand if you do not feel the same, but all I ask is that you understand why I am protective of you. I love you, and to me, you're more important than any piece of gold in that mountain."

"I love you too, Kili… But you can't fight your own kin for me." Bilbo says gently. Kili sighs and nods and affirmative. Bilbo smiles and leans forward. "Now, I'm not sure what Dwarves do when they admit their feelings but Hobbits have a fun way of doing so."

Kili's bashful look turns to a smirk.

"What did you have in mind, burglar?" Kili teases, leaning closer.

"Oh, shut it you fool." Bilbo laughs, rolling his eyes. He leans forward and kisses him quickly before pulling back. He abruptly stands and gestures around them. "Now, I have no clue where we are. Guide me, adventurer."

Kili beams up at him and he gets up, and they make their way through the forest.

They have a lot to work out, a lot of people to talk to, a King (and most importantly uncle to confess to), but for now they have each other. and oh, that's the best adventure Bilbo could have asked for.

[kookaburra1701]

WIP Wheneversday - Nostos

tagged by @dirty-bosmer @mareenavee @paraparadigm @gilgamish and @changelingsandothernonsense

I am tagging @greyborn2 and @thana-topsy mainly because I've been screaming in Discord about my new OC so they get tags too. Also Khemor would likely have never existed in his final form without the absolutely inspiring works by @greyborn2 featuring Kesh gra-Bruma.

I just want everyone to know, this is all @mareenavee's fault. An "innocent" question about what Borgakh's ideal future would look like after Aristeia is done and suddenly 48 hours later I'm writing a sequel when I haven't even finished the second chapter???? I am a clown. This is me putting on my big red shoes and big red nose and honking a silly horn and squirting a flower all over my massive WIP pile.

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Rating: T (blood and violence, mushy stuff [kissin' not viscera])

Category: M/F

Genre(s): Romance

Main characters: Borgakh the Steel Heart, Khemor gro-Skaven (Male orc LDB)

Summary: Khemor gro-Skaven, Thane of Eastmarch and The Pale, Last Dragonborn, Vanquisher of Alduin, Confidant of the High King of Skyrim, and disgraced former Magus of the College of Whispers thought that after he defeated Alduin, he would not have to worry about anything more dangerous than a papercut for the rest of his life. When Jarl of the Pale asks him to investigate the destruction of the Hall of the Vigilants, it sets off a chain of events that ultimately leads him to wash up at the feet of the woman of his dreams. But what can a crippled conjuration mage-scholar half again her age possibly offer to a future Shield-Wife?

The pain was blinding. Khemor's knees buckled, and Borgakh made a noise of fear and started forward as if to catch him but Serana was faster, her shoulder under his arm, one knee bracing his leg.

"No, keep your hands on it!" Khemor hissed through gritted teeth. Borgakh's hands tightened over his, pressing them into the soul gem.

Magicka burned its way down his arms, dammed behind his palms, searching for a way into the rough, uncut gem.

There it is! All soul gems had a natural entry point, almost always obliterated in the process of faceting them. But if you had a natural, uncut gem, and the talent and patience to find the entry point, the soul would flow into it effortlessly, like a river finding the sea.

The pain faded as the flow of magicka -- the flow of his soul-- was released into the stone. It left behind an acute weariness, and despite Serana's support Khemor sank to his knees. Borgakh still clasped his hands around the soul gem, and he looked up into her eyes.

The naked fear they held was so alien to him in the context of her features that he almost reached out automatically to touch her face, to reassure her. But she was not concerned with herself, she was fearful for him. And there was no reassurance he could give that he would be alright.

"Khemor, that's enough," Serana's voice cut through the spell Borgakh's eyes had held him in. He cut off the flow of magicka into the stone. A chill had settled in his chest, as if cold hands were gripping his heart. But as he withdrew from the stone, leaving it cradled in Borgakh's hands, the sharpness of the cold diminished, as if he was huddled next to a small fire in a snowstorm.

"Oh!" she said in surprise. "It's...warm. It's like a heartbeat."

Khemor reached up, and covered her hands with his own, he looked into her face beseechingly. "You hold my heart and soul in your hands, Borgakh the Steel-Heart. Please," his voice dropped into a husky whisper. "Please don't let them break." He pushed the stone against her chest. "Keep them safe."

The kindness and determination in her face as she nodded sent another bloom of fleeting warmth that forced the chill farther away from his heart.

The hardness of the flagstones against his shins brought Khemor back to himself, and the fact that he was on his knees, gripping Borgakh's hands, staring into her eyes and begging her to take care of his heart. He forced himself to release her, and accepted Serana's assistance to rise shakily to his feet.

Leaning on his staff, Khemor faced the swirling, violet abyss that yawned below them, the steps leading into it like a narrow tongue inviting him into the maw of Oblivion. He could not meet Borgakh's eyes, but as she carefully opened her gambeson and placed the now-glowing soul gem into an inner pocket, next to her heart, a peace settled over him. No matter what awaited him on the other side of the portal, his soul was with Borgakh.

As he placed his foot upon the threshold of the steps, a hand gripped his arm. Khemor didn't turn, but reached up to cover it with his own.

"Return safely to me, Khemor gro-Skaven."

Khemor said nothing, but took Borgakh's hand in his and with a final squeeze shared between them, let her fingers slip from his as he descended the stairs into the realm of the Ideal Masters.

[sabraeal]

to all the ghost still standing in this room, Chapter 2

[Read on AO3]

Written for @kirayaykimura for her birthday! Starting this got pushed back SO MANY TIMES due to bingo, and so when I finally got to it and asked if she had a last minute change in request...she finally admitted she wanted more liliwon 🤣 It’s been a nice little break from the months of frantic obiyuki writing!

A king must act decisively. Kyesook had told him that, back when they were simply Yuhon’s heir and the boy his supporters had trusted to mold him. Barely six years his senior, he’d given his lessons with all the airs of a priest reciting a sacred truths. But a king must also be cautious. And above all else-- even now his expectations weigh heavy on him --he must be in control.

Control, ha. Soowon marvels at the trembling wrist in his grip; at the thick, mottled skin now streaked by the pale band of his fingers, silvered like long-healed scars instead of shackles. A pulse throbs against his fingertips, slippery with rage and thwarted wrath, but there’s no fear in his eyes, no sense of how close he’s come to death.

Not yet, at least.

“As much as the lady might annoy...”  His grip tightens, just a hair, but his tone never strays from pointed civility. “Striking a woman is unnecessary.”

“Annoy?” Ah, of course. A man’s fist might quiver inches from the delicate bridge of An Lili’s nose, but that’s the stone that change’s the river’s course. “This man shakes a poor woman down in the middle of the streets, but I’m annoying for trying to--”

“Shake her down?” The man’s eyes bulge in their sockets, no longer a blade but a bullfrog belching its complaints to a ripple that’s splashed too close. “This girl is getting in the way of my business--”

“Your illegal business.” Lili surges toward him, heedless of the danger she so narrowly avoided. “I don’t think Kouren is going around, letting men like you issue permits--”

If she keeps this up, she might well win this argument by default, if only because the man’s died of apoplexy. “What do you know if it, you little--”

“I think you will find--” it’s in his softest, most dulcet tones that Soowon speaks, smile stretching his lips like a rack does a skin “--that denying this young woman’s wishes might cause more problems for you than it solves.”

He might be slender where this man is meaty, calm where he seethes, but when Soowon looms head and shoulders over him, bones groaning in his grasp, the man finally recognizes him the same way a rabbit recognizes a fox in the brush: as the superior being that cradles both his life and his death in its grip.

One that squeezes a little tighter as he says, “I speak, of course, from experience.”

Those bulging eyes no longer fix to Lili, no; they swing back to him, trembling like the rest of his squat body. Soowon, for his part, tries to find no pleasure in it. He fails of course. Ah, what his old minder might make of this mess? Nothing that would earn that man’s sparing praise, that’s for certain.

“F-fine then.” That man’s lips may flap but all that falls from them is this false bravado, useless save as a salve to his own pride. “Guess she can have her way, if it’s so important to her.”

“How kind.” Soowon’s grip springs open, sudden as a trap. The man stumbles, catching himself on his back foot. “Your graciousness will not be forgotten.”

There’s a threat in those soft words, hidden beneath the cushion of civility. A cleverer scoundrel would take it, a lesson learned about what a fair man might hide behind his sweet smile, but this one-- this one cradles his wrist against his chest and spits, “But if she gets in my way again...”

It is the work of a single step to slide between them, to break the furious path of his glare.

“That won’t be a problem. Or at least--” his voice drops to his chest, eyes falling open from their squint “--you better hope it is not.”

He’s impossible, that’s the problem here. When Lili left camp-- hours ago now, coaxing the most biddable mare in their entourage with the dried fruits she smuggled into her skirts during breakfast-- Soowon had still been in his tent. Sleeping, she assumed, or sulking if he couldn’t bring himself to have regular, basic needs like all the rest of those lesser mortals. He was still supposed to be doing that now, only inside that terrible darkened cage that passed for a palanquin.

And instead he’s-- he’s here. Haunting her heroic moment. Just swooping in and handling things when she definitely didn’t ask him to. Sure, he’s got that scumbag already scurrying into the gutters where he belongs, but he’s stooped over the woman too, wearing that stupid smile of his, the kind he squints into so no one notices it doesn’t reach his eyes.

A slender hand slips out from beneath the gleaming white of his robe, and oh, he’s stealing her rescue, too! Here she is, the one who bothered to step in to begin with, but that poor woman is all eyes for that beanpole, flushed and stammering as he guides her to her feet. Which is something Lili would have been happy to do, as soon as her own legs quit trembling. Just a few minutes and she would have been the one to gallantly offer her hand, the one to dust off the woman’s dirty knees. But instead--

Instead it’s Soowon fussing over her, offering with his stupid voice-- not even his real one, but the one he uses to come off as gentle and inoffensive, for all the good it does him-- to take her home. And it’s to him she clings even as her she insists he’s done enough.

Shameless, that’s what he is. Doesn’t even bother to look sorry when he finally glances her way either. Oh no, for her, he’s smug. Bastard.

Well, he’s not going to have the satisfaction of floating over here and pulling that angel act on her, oh no. Lili storms over to him first, legs stronger with every stomp, and demands, “What on earth are you doing here?”

Oh, he smiles and simpers for all the smallfolk, playing benevolent savior, but for her-- for her there’s no squint, no pretense that he’s doing anything but looking down on her when he says, “Saving you, it seems.”

“You?” It’s stupid that he’s so tall; if he’s going to be so obnoxious, she should at least be able to put her hands around his throat without having to jump. “Saving me?”

It’s ridiculous. Absurd, even. And worse yet, terrible, because if she’s being generous-- which she shouldn’t be; he doesn’t deserve it-- it might even be true.

That insufferable smile widens when he reaches out for her, and she means to duck, to sidestep, to do something if only to keep him from acting whatever way he likes, but--

But she’s frozen instead, breath caught up in her lungs as his fingers graze past her ears, disrupting the flyaway hairs that always gather just there no matter what Tetora does. A shiver traces down her spine, trembling her already weak knees, and it’s-- it’s nothing. Only that he never gets this close to anyone, not on purpose, so it feels...different. Weird.

That is, until her hood tumbles over her eyes, leaving her with only slash of his smirk in her vision. “Yes. Like always.”

She wrestles with the fabric until it sits properly back from her face, sputtering and spitting but never quite forming words. Always. The gall of him. “Where’s your babysitter?”

His eyebrows lift, two elegant questions over the still seas of his eyes. “Where is yours?”

Lili scowls; it’s not until her palms prickle that she even realizes she’s clenched her fists. “I don’t need one! I can take care of myself just fine.”

He doesn’t even bother to open his mouth, just pointedly glances at where she’d stood, too stupid to see a punch coming, and-- and--

“I can!” A hit like that would hardly kill her. “But now that you’re here, Joodoh is going to be tearing across the whole countryside to find--”

Funny, she wouldn’t have though his spindly hands it could fit so perfectly over her mouth. Or that his grip could bite so harshly into her wrist.

She glares up at him, ready to give him a piece of her mind, muffled or not, and finds a smile that is all teeth.

“Why don’t we move this discussion to a more amenable location?” he asks, and oh, it’s phrased like a suggestion, but every twitch of his eyes says, you’re making a scene.

Ha. If he thinks this is a scene, she’d be happy to show him what it looks like when she does a whole production--

Until she follows the quick flick of his eyes, gaze quickly drawn to the gleam of pauldrons, to the tooled leather insignia branded across the chest of more than a few men now lingering at the edge of the market, watching them. 

With a quick catch of her breath, his hand peels away. “Come.” He tugs at her wrist. “This way.”

“All right.” Lili slips like water from his fingers, one moment solid under his grip, and the next idling behind him in the alley, arms-crossed. “What are you doing here, really?”

Ah well, it’s fine enough; he hadn’t thought she would allow him to lead her this far from the market, let alone to somewhere properly secluded. “I might ask you the same thing.”

“Ugh, yeah you could,” she huffs, hands flailing wildly beside her already listing hood. “Or you could just answer the question like a normal person!”

He blinks at her, stymied. That’s hardly a standard he’s ever been expected to aspire to. Exceptional, certainly; superior might as well go without saying; but normal...?

“Fine!” Her head flings back with a groan, and ah, that explains how it keeps falling. “I’m here because Lady Lili only gets to see flower gardens and tapestries and maybe a decorative pond or two. And that’s fine or whatever, but Yona isn’t going to care about whether or not the castle’s lilies are growing well this year. For that matter, neither do I!”

His mouth opens, only to find that there’s nothing to say. “Ah...hm.”

“And also you’re horrible to travel with,” she continues, quite unnecessarily. “That’s a big part of it.”

“Well.” There’s a half dozen idiosyncrasies he could lay at her door as well, a litany of habits that could make even the most pious of the priesthood rethink temperance, but what comes out is a stilted, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“So...there.” Her fluttering hands finally perch on her hips, ready to take flight with a single shift in the wind of her moods. “Your turn now.”

It would be simple to answer; he had prepared a response to that very question before he even left camp. Not the truth-- no one liked that, no matter what they said-- but the sort of regal humility expected of a cousin to the crown. I wanted to see the people of this land with my own two eyes, he would say, gaze fixed to the middle distance, properly melancholic. The care my cousin shows our people has taught me to seek its like wherever I go.

But as pretty as the words are, as melodic a cadence as he had composed to cradle them, it feels...inadequate. Lili may not speak to him with eloquence, but she is earnest, the way he had once been with...

Ah. An uncomfortable thought.

“The last time I was here, I came with an army at my back.” An invader, hoping to subdue a weakened rival with an application of suitable force. “I have to admit I was...curious. About what may remain after...everything.”

About what they might say about King Soowon, the man who failed where Princess Yona flew. Ah, Empress Yona, now.

The answer had been surprisingly little. He’s not sure what would have been worse: for his name being synonymous as their oppressor, or the fact that his gambit left so little mark that few remember it.

“It’s so different now, isn’t it?” The tightness around Lili’s eyes eases, the whole of her face softening as she skims the streets. “There’s scars where Kai and the nadai carved them, but...”

“I expected more,” he agrees. “A testament to Kouren’s leadership.”

“Oh?” One of her narrow brows quirk, too interested. “Is that so? Do you find that an attractive trait in an ally, or--?”

“Don’t start,” he grumbles, tucking his hands into his sleeves. “It’s insulting enough that Yona has tried to dress this up as a...a diplomatic mission, I don’t need this from you too.”

“But it is a diplomatic mission.” For once he wishes An Lili was a better liar; then he wouldn’t have to suffer her subterfuge. “Kouka has to send someone to the coronation, and who better than Yona’s own cousin, a--”

“An usurper and kin-killer.” His teeth ache as he strains his well-earned titles through them. “And though my lovely cousin would never admit it, I am a superfluous and inconvenient member of the royal family. She might well have spared me her mercy and killed me instead, the reception might have been kinder.”

For all that it’s true, Lili scowls at him, as if he’s a disappointment. “Yona has spent the past two years trying to involve you in every aspect of Kouka’s governance. She made you the Sky Advisor! You can’t really think sending you here to--”

“Woo a queen who has every reason to hate me?” For all her hot air, Lili deflates. Ah, so they had not thought he would figure out this portion of their plan until it was already well underway. “Yona would never be so rude as to suggest it outright, but I’m sure it would put her most at ease if I found Xing so diverting I never return to Kouka.”

Lili unleashes a groan so weary it practically creaks. “She would like you to be happy, instead of just...haunting your end of the castle and finding new ways to make yourself miserable.”

“Haunting.”

Her sharp little finger stings where it prods his chest. “You’ve spooked several servants, mister. Surprising we can still get people to go clean down that way when they’re all spun up about restless spirits wandering the halls.”

Soowon smooths the dimple she leaves in the fabric. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“You said it, Yona’s too nice to tell you the stuff you need to hear.” Her mouth gives an insufferable little twist. “Like that you need to go out and get some fresh air.”

“And you’re...not.” It’s not a question. He has met her, after all. It’s one of the most tolerable things about her.

One of her slim shoulders lift, unconcerned. “Someone has to.”

“How...” He lets a few possibilities roll around on his tongue, savoring each one. “Considerate.”

“Listen, if you’re so concerned about why Yona chose you for this party--” her tone implies heavily that he shouldn’t be “--you’re a royal, like you said. It’s an honor for people to host you. Fussing over you makes them feel important. And the fact that Yona’s letting them do it makes her seem magnanimous.”

His eyes narrow. “I see. And the fact that I am the highest ranking unattached member of the imperial court...”

“Fine,” she sighs. “Yeah, if by some cosmic coincidence you somehow fell wildly in love with one of Yona’s staunchest allies and the strongest queen of her vassal countries, I’m sure she wouldn’t be mad about it.”

The only queen of her vassal countries. His breath whistles out through his nose. At least it’s a more flattering option than Mei-nyan. “How optimistic of her, considering how the last time I was in Xing, its first princess was calling for my head.”

“That’s Yona for you. Now...” Lili cranes her neck, peering around his side to-- ah, to his pockets. “Are those rice cakes?”

Ha. He had quite forgotten those were there. “Is there a reason you are asking?”

A grin splits her face as she threads her arm through his, all teeth. “Because if you’re going to show me around this place, you’re gonna have to share them.”

[cryptic-paw]

The Harlequinade’s Beginning

I came expecting to deal with the insane.

I never thought I’d become one.

“Dr. Harleen Quinzel?”

“Call me Harley; everyone does.”

I’ve always been fascinated with the human mind

And the most colorful are those of the insane.

I walk and hear a tune, a haunting tune that at the same time

Sounds like it could be heard at a carnival.

I pass. He winks. I stop and look and blush.

Who is he? What secrets does he hold?

His looks are interesting, almost comical.

His face like snow, his hair like a trimmed hedge, his smile like a running red river.

“Be careful,” she warns me.

“He’s dangerous,” she tells me.

“The most difficult mind to crack,” she says.

Really? Interesting, very interesting.

In my office, all new and cleaned, waiting for an inhabitant, me.

Something is waiting for me on my desk,

Catches my eye glittering in the moonlight.

A rose.

A simple, single, red rose.

From J. From J? But how? J must mean him.

I’ll discover his meaning at the source.

I go back. I go back and see him, J, the one who made me blush.

“How did this get into my office? You must’ve gotten out of your cell.

I’ll alert the guards, you know.”

“If you didn’t care, you would have done so long ago,” he says.

He’s right. Can he see into my eyes? Into my soul?

No one has been able to do that before.

It makes me edgy, uncertain, paranoid even, but touched.

“Harley Quinzel,” he says in a silky voice, as smooth as clear waters.

“Mix it up a bit, and you get Harley Quinn!”

“Like the clown character, I know. I’ve heard it before.”

It wasn’t the first time and certainly wasn’t the last.

I didn’t have time to be mocked, made fun of, so I started to walk away.

He called after me, “Wait!”

So I heard him out, and I’m glad I did.

“You’re someone who I feel like I can relate to,

someone I could share my secrets with.”

And that was all it took, all it ever took, for me to become intrigued.

How could I say no

to the opportunity to unscramble the most challenging mind in the asylum?

Was it just because of that? Maybe...maybe not.

The sessions were slow and long, and I remained professional.

Bit by bit, story by story, he chipped away at me.

His tales made me laugh so hard that I cried.

Others made me shed a tear out of pity.

He told me of a caped hero dressed in black who always foiled his plots and plans.

In time, I came to hate the dark hero, too.

Every story, he would come in and interrupt my angel from having his fun.

He had such a rough childhood, and all he wanted was to have fun, enjoy himself.

As much as I’d hate to admit it,

I had fallen in love with my patient.

“Do you think that’s crazy?” I said to him.

“Not at all. You’re a woman of business, and you just needed to unwind and have a good time.”

He and I had switched places, and I was so blinded in love that I didn’t realize how he had craftily wrapped me around his finger.

“Thanks, Doc,” I said,

“Anytime.”

Night vanished and morning came and the first thing I noticed was that he was gone, escaped, all alone in the world and vulnerable to harm.

I was frantic, emotional, on the edge of my seat, waiting for him to come home.

The day passed and night came again.

He returned, but not how I would’ve liked.

I pushed, shoved, elbowed my way through the other doctors to get to him.

Beside him was the ebony justice that he and I despised so much,

Who I loathed even more now that he brought my angel back in such a battered and beat-up state.

I caught him when he fell, held him, comforted him.

Then they dragged him away, away from me, away from my support, away from my love.

In despair, I visited him later after he had been bandaged up only to find him weakened and hurt.

I had to do something, had to make a stand, a change, a difference.

I was done looking back, back to the past.

The time to act was now, to do something I would never ever regret for the rest of my life.

I would give my angel his Harley Quinn.

The toy store had just the right items to break him loose.

The funniest toys were turned into the most deadly weapons.

The clerk soon found out as his unconscious body fell to the stone-hard floor.

As soon as I had nabbed that mask and costume,

Harleen Quinzel had died, and Harley Quinn was born.

Now back in Arkham, I felt changed.

No longer would I roam the halls as an inquisitive psychologist,

But as a deranged criminal.

Under the cover of night, I silently took out any guards in my path until I returned to his cell.

It was risky planting a bomb on the glass and I almost doubted myself if not for his face, the look of his glorious face.

Tick, tick, tick, BOOM!!!

He was awake when I appeared, my astounding introduction now revealed to the entire world seemingly by this very act.

“Knock, knock, Puddin’! Here’s your new and improved Harley Quinn!”

Not only did I act differently, I spoke differently, too.

No more business, no more professionalism, no more rules, just fun, fun, fun!

The car was ready to go and he laughed and laughed all the way out of there and with each chuckle came a surge of happiness within me.

This would be the start of my happily ever after.

[crypticpawpoems]

The Harlequinade's Beginning

I came expecting to deal with the insane.

I never thought I’d become one.

“Dr. Harleen Quinzel?”

“Call me Harley; everyone does.”

I’ve always been fascinated with the human mind

And the most colorful are those of the insane.

I walk and hear a tune, a haunting tune that at the same time

Sounds like it could be heard at a carnival.

I pass. He winks. I stop and look and blush.

Who is he? What secrets does he hold?

His looks are interesting, almost comical.

His face like snow, his hair like a trimmed hedge, his smile like a running red river.

“Be careful,” she warns me.

“He’s dangerous,” she tells me.

“The most difficult mind to crack,” she says.

Really? Interesting, very interesting.

In my office, all new and cleaned, waiting for an inhabitant, me.

Something is waiting for me on my desk,

Catches my eye glittering in the moonlight.

A rose.

A simple, single, red rose.

From J. From J? But how? J must mean him.

I’ll discover his meaning at the source.

I go back. I go back and see him, J, the one who made me blush.

“How did this get into my office? You must’ve gotten out of your cell.

I’ll alert the guards, you know.”

“If you didn’t care, you would have done so long ago,” he says.

He’s right. Can he see into my eyes? Into my soul?

No one has been able to do that before.

It makes me edgy, uncertain, paranoid even, but touched.

“Harley Quinzel,” he says in a silky voice, as smooth as clear waters.

“Mix it up a bit, and you get Harley Quinn!”

“Like the clown character, I know. I’ve heard it before.”

It wasn’t the first time and certainly wasn’t the last.

I didn’t have time to be mocked, made fun of, so I started to walk away.

He called after me, “Wait!”

So I heard him out, and I’m glad I did.

“You’re someone who I feel like I can relate to,

someone I could share my secrets with.”

And that was all it took, all it ever took, for me to become intrigued.

How could I say no

to the opportunity to unscramble the most challenging mind in the asylum?

Was it just because of that? Maybe...maybe not.

The sessions were slow and long, and I remained professional.

Bit by bit, story by story, he chipped away at me.

His tales made me laugh so hard that I cried.

Others made me shed a tear out of pity.

He told me of a caped hero dressed in black who always foiled his plots and plans.

In time, I came to hate the dark hero, too.

Every story, he would come in and interrupt my angel from having his fun.

He had such a rough childhood, and all he wanted was to have fun, enjoy himself.

As much as I’d hate to admit it,

I had fallen in love with my patient.

“Do you think that’s crazy?” I said to him.

“Not at all. You’re a woman of business, and you just needed to unwind and have a good time.”

He and I had switched places, and I was so blinded in love that I didn’t realize how he had craftily wrapped me around his finger.

“Thanks, Doc,” I said,

“Anytime.”

Night vanished and morning came and the first thing I noticed was that he was gone, escaped, all alone in the world and vulnerable to harm.

I was frantic, emotional, on the edge of my seat, waiting for him to come home.

The day passed and night came again.

He returned, but not how I would’ve liked.

I pushed, shoved, elbowed my way through the other doctors to get to him.

Beside him was the ebony justice that he and I despised so much,

Who I loathed even more now that he brought my angel back in such a battered and beat-up state.

I caught him when he fell, held him, comforted him.

Then they dragged him away, away from me, away from my support, away from my love.

In despair, I visited him later after he had been bandaged up only to find him weakened and hurt.

I had to do something, had to make a stand, a change, a difference.

I was done looking back, back to the past.

The time to act was now, to do something I would never ever regret for the rest of my life.

I would give my angel his Harley Quinn.

The toy store had just the right items to break him loose.

The funniest toys were turned into the most deadly weapons.

The clerk soon found out as his unconscious body fell to the stone-hard floor.

As soon as I had nabbed that mask and costume,

Harleen Quinzel had died, and Harley Quinn was born.

Now back in Arkham, I felt changed.

No longer would I roam the halls as an inquisitive psychologist,

But as a deranged criminal.

Under the cover of night, I silently took out any guards in my path until I returned to his cell.

It was risky planting a bomb on the glass and I almost doubted myself if not for his face, the look of his glorious face.

Tick, tick, tick, BOOM!!!

He was awake when I appeared, my astounding introduction now revealed to the entire world seemingly by this very act.

“Knock, knock, Puddin’! Here’s your new and improved Harley Quinn!”

Not only did I act differently, I spoke differently, too.

No more business, no more professionalism, no more rules, just fun, fun, fun!

The car was ready to go and he laughed and laughed all the way out of there and with each chuckle came a surge of happiness within me.

This would be the start of my happily ever after.

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

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[headoverheelss]

Chapter 4 The End

Shuri had no hope that this plan would work. They had stopped the proposals at one of the grandsons of the Merchant Tribe Elder Namwia.

She could see what the older elder woman had precisely planned. Ewando her grandson was a little bit older than Okoye. He was a nice man but in Shuri’s opinion did not match Okoye.

They witnessed the two talk for about two hours. It was beyond awkward but Namwia was smiling.

“Okoye, my grandson is a wonderful man and a match for what the future of Wakanda needs. Trust you would be wrong not to pick him.”

Okoye had a pained look on her face but Shuri could see that she was starting to relent.

The River Tribe Elder spoke, “so Okoye what is your choice?”

Okoye looked at M’Baku and Shuri then back at the man in front of her.

He wasn’t what she wanted but she was tired of playing this game. She took a deep breath.

“I-“

She didn’t finish her sentence as the doors were thrown open. Namor and Attuma walked their way to the middle of the room.

Shuri caught Namor’s eyes. Her fiancé gave her a wink. The Princess smiled to herself.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Namwia looked livid.

M’Baku gave a hearty laugh. Finally some fun during all of this for the King.

“K'uk'ulkan! What brings you to the surface? You know your wedding isn’t until the spring.”

Namor smiled, he had grown fond of the giant goofy man in front of him.

“Do not worry. I have that date seared into my brain but I come as the announcement of the Midnight Angel's marriage proposal hearings has reached the deepest parts of the ocean.”

M’Baku widened his eyes, “oh, is that so?”

Shuri looked over at Okoye but Okoye’s eyes were entirely focused on Attuma. The princess has known Okoye for a very long time. The warrior was able to mask many emotions but at this time Shuri saw as Okoye gripped the arms of her chair so tight that Shuri was afraid that it would break.

“Excuse me,” Namwia interrupted, repeating her question again “but what is the meaning of all of this?!”

Namor looked at Attuma who was busy staring at Okoye. He cleared his throat catching the attention of Attuma, without taking his eyes off Okoye, Attuma spoke loudly.

“I would like to ask for her hand in marriage.”

There was commotion the second Attuma finished his sentence. There was yelling from everybody.

“This will not do!”

“He is not of Wakandan blood!”

M’Baku had enough. This was starting to give him another headache.

“That is enough!” His shout bounced off the walls of the whole room.

“Now, these marriage proposals were never bounded to the walls of our land. We must hear what this man has to say.”

Attuma nodded his head giving M’Baku gratitude.

“Thank you, your majesty. I know this wasn’t what the people of Wakanda wanted but I promise that I would do my best to fight alongside Okoye for our two nations.”

Attuma looked at his beloved in front of him, “if she were to have me, I would make sure to love and cherish her. To always support her in everything she does and everything she will want to do. She would never want for everything. My devotion will always stay pure for she is my Sun and I will never stray far from her. If I don’t uphold these promises then she is free to leave whenever she pleases. No fight will come from me.”

Namor was never prouder of Attuma than at that moment.

M’baku looked at Okoye, “well Okoye what do you think?”

Namwia scoffed, “my king you can’t possibly-“

“Be quiet. The decision is hers to make.”

Everybody stared at Okoye. The warrior wanted nothing more than to kiss the man in front of her.

“Thank you elders for helping me in this process but I think my choice is clear.” She cleared her throat, “I think it’s always been clear.”

“I choose Attuma of Talokan as my final decision.”

Attuma smiled feeling relief flow through his body.

M’Baku laughed, “thank the heavens this is over. Now come everybody, let’s give these two some privacy.”

The elders begrudgingly walked out of the throne. Namor and Shuri stayed behind to chaperone.

“Well that was something wasn’t it.”

Namor walked closer to Shuri, “not as bad as ours though.”

Shuri laughed, grabbing Namor’s hand, “no never as bad as that but don’t you think we should be doing our job.”

Namor looked over at Attuma and Okoye. Now that the elders have left Okoye could be herself. Her walls dropped. She ran to Attuma who grabbed her instantly. There was laughter and eventually a kiss that sealed the deal for the two.

Namor looked back at Shuri, “as much as I would like to get revenge for all the times they interrupted us, I think that we should let them be for now.”

Shuri smiled, “yes, I’m afraid you are right. They deserve this.”

[aerodaltonimperial]

More please?

(have some emotional support horror blorbos)

He catches sight of her out of the corner of his eye, during a practiced fast-walk in the airport terminal en route to baggage claim. The sight trips him up, knees knocking together; one ankle slips behind his other leg and he almost tumbles forward. He stops, because he can’t figure out why she’d be sitting like she is when they’re at their final destination. She’s hunched over, arms around her torso and waist bent, hair falling over her knees in little waves.

Jack turns around, backtracks, and sits down in the seat next to her. “Hey,” he tries. It sounds about as pathetic out loud as it had in his head.

Anna doesn’t answer, but her arms tremble more, so he knows she heard him.

“Do you have checked luggage?” When she nods, he continues, “Do you want to go and get it together?”

Maybe he shouldn’t offer. Is that something exes should do? Is that something appropriate when you come out of the bitter post-break-up phase only under extreme duress, after trauma has wrapped its icy fingers around both your wrists to keep you joined, after you’ve both moved on a little, in the butterflies-in-your-stomach, gentle kisses sort of way? Fuck, Jack doesn’t know. He wishes he had a manual for this.

“Those people died,” Anna whispers, muffled a bit against her hands.

Jack doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just gums out a simple, “Yeah,” for lack of anything better.

“They died, but we got out,” she says.

“Don’t feel bad about that,” Jack tells her, with more sharpness than he intends. “Don’t feel bad for surviving; never that.”

Anna lifts her head. Her eyes are rimmed with purple bruises and a few black streaks where her mascara has been dragged across her skin. “Why did we get to live when they didn’t?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“We shouldn’t have—”

“Anna, don’t,” he interrupts. He’s pretty sure he knows what this is; isn’t there some kind of official term for this? Don’t soldiers get this sometimes? “We just did. We’re still alive. You can’t go down that road, you can’t start doubting everything.”

“How can I not?” she asks, finally bristling, a stroke of anger in her system. “We came out of an impossible situation alive and there’s no explanation as to why.”

“Sometimes there isn’t an explanation. Sometimes things just happen.”

She goes quiet, contemplative. Jack doesn’t really know if anything he’s said can possibly help. She’s so deep in her own doubts at this point, he’s probably not the right person to pull her out. Maybe Julia can talk to her, rationalize some things. It helps to know Anna’s got someone, actually—a tiny bridge over the river of their decidedly un-amicable split. The rage he’d felt for months is gone now, glossed over by everything that put his world in a harsh perspective.

Jack stands up and holds his hand out for her. “Let’s go.”

It doesn’t feel strange when she takes it. It doesn’t even feel strange when she keeps her fingers curled in his as they make their way down to baggage claim. Maybe, they can make their own rules on this. Maybe they can be friends now, now that life’s pulled the rug out from under their feet.

He gives Anna’s hand a little squeeze, hoping he can pass a little of whatever she needs on, and is relieved when she squeezes back.

“Let’s get dinner soon,” he says.

“Together?” she asks, and he understands what she means even if the word rings deceptively simple.

“Yeah. All of us.”

++

He used to find solace in the quiet, dark corners of the backstage corridors, back before…well, before. He used to like how calm things would feel without the fluorescent overhead lights beating down on him, and now—now it’s the shadows he fears, the unknown. Hook still wants a quiet place to unwind, though, so he moves slowly through the halls that are brightly lit and ignores the tiny off-shoots he would once have crept down. The end of this hallway sports one of the industrial stairwells: good lighting, few dark patches, and easy viewing both above and below.

It’s pretty fucked up how those are the sorts of things that Hook looks for now. He pushes the door open, though, and realizes he’s not the only one. He pauses for only a split-second before moving in and settling on the top step next to Darby’s seated form.

They make it for five minutes or so before Darby sighs, stretching one leg out in front of him so his combat boot scrapes against the cement. “It’s the dark, isn’t it.”

“Yeah.” It doesn’t even make sense, really; they’d been in the woods, not the shadows, but it’s the unknown that lives in the lack of light that feels the most dangerous. It’s the possibility that escape isn’t an option any more.

And here they are, the two people from their sorry little rag-tag band that, for whatever reason, had always been the primary targets.

“You sleep?” Hook asks.

“Like shit,” Darby replies.

Misery shared, it seems. Hook loops his arms over his knees, drawing them closer. A bit of dirt has smudged across the top of his sneaker, so he wipes it clean with his thumb. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Better.”

Hook thinks it’s a lie, but he isn’t going to push it. This is weird, and it isn’t. He doesn’t really like Darby. And the problem is, he’s pretty sure Jack does.

“If you hurt him,” Hook starts, slowly, rolling each word carefully over his tongue, “they’ll never find your body.”

Darby stares at him. “Are you giving me a shovel talk?”

“I’ll hurt you way worse than those things will.”

Another lie. Darby huffs out a little laugh, toeing at the ground. “Yeah. Alright.”

“He’s a good person,” Hook says.

Darby takes a long time to respond to that. “Yeah.”

“Good talk,” Hook says. At least thinking about that weirdness helped him forget, for a few moments, about the constant need to look over his shoulder at all times he carries around now. He sighs, dragging his hands down his face. What a clusterfuck. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I was just…well. You know. Trying to find a place. Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Darby replies. There’s no hesitation there. He stares at his boots and draws his tongue across his lip. “You can stay.”

“Okay.”

Hook stays. They sit in almost companionable silence until they can’t put off the return any longer, and then they head back to medical together. Hook wouldn’t call them friends, but he’s pretty sure they at least aren’t enemies any longer.

And at this point, he’ll take any win he can find.

++

“I’ll just be five minutes,” Julia says, and Brody nods. He doesn’t look over again, because he’s always been good about respecting her space and wishes. Julia slips out the door, and heads down into the basement.

There’s nothing down here but the janitor’s closets and the electrical rooms. Any room will serve fine, but she’d rather be comfortable, so she picks out one of the small rooms that houses the larger floor cleaning machines. Someone has put a chair up against the wall—she sits in it, crossing her legs. The threads hum.

She leaves the lights off, so the room is black.

Then she waits.

It doesn’t take long; he’s predictable like that. The air beside her chair shimmers, the air sizzling with the energy he brings, the kind of change that most people are oblivious to.

“Have they found him?” Julia asks.

“No,” Danhausen replies. “Danhausen gave the doctor the coordinates, but they haven’t.”

It’s the answer Julia expected, but didn’t wish to receive. She sighs. “They won’t, then; not there anyway. He won’t stick around an area now crawling with personnel.”

“None of them will.”

Julia taps her fingers against her thighs. She is off-balance; she doesn’t <i>like</i> being off-balance. She has worked very hard to steady her footing, and seeing it slip away is like a punch to the gut. “That’s three, then.”

“Two out of containment, and one…that never was.”

“It wasn’t just us,” she says, quietly. Even in the dark, she fears that someone could be listening in. The walls have ears, after all. “They weren’t just after us.”

Danhausen is silent for awhile. She has pressed on a bruise, a sore spot, and he always needs time to readjust after that. “No,” he finally admits. “They weren’t.”

“This could get dangerous.”

“Isn’t it already?” he shoots back.

“We may not be able to protect them. If it comes down to it, can you do what needs to be done with 049?”

Danhausen doesn’t hesitate this time. “Danhausen will split him open from navel to nose.”

“Good.” Julia nods. “We will need everyone.”

“Can they help?” he asks.

She considers this. There is a different type of strength in the others, one that isn’t threaded as magic in their veins, but it’s strength all the same. “Yes. They may not think they can, but they will.”

A pause. And then: “Julia. How are you?”

Her arm aches. The web remains as a tattoo, left behind and slightly bumpy. In the mornings, her sight is cloudy and she cannot find the right cords. But she says, “Yes.”

“You’re not a very good liar,” he chides.

“Only around you,” she says, and smiles.