#i will keep this fandom alive with my own two hands i swear to god and that’s a threat!

[btwn2lungs]

i keep seeing posts saying “goodbye!” and “this was a lot of fun!” where are you going??? we need to sit in this shit for at least 6 more months!

pull out your art supplies and keyboards because it’s not over yet!

[rubypasha1]

I’m going to be honest and say I had some bad experiences in the Transformers fandom. I wrote fics for it, admittedly very bad but they were my first. Had to learn somewhere. Thing is I enjoyed the writing, actually I loved it and it made me realize my passion for writing fiction.

But that didn’t stop the bad experiences. Mostly people. I won’t go into detail but for the love of god please don’t ask or encourage a 12 year old, who has clearly stated they are one, to write smut. And don’t send them very explicit, dead dove do not eat fics without at least staying “hey, there’s some messed up stuff in here so just be warned” instead of “Here’s some inspiration!” And constantly asking when smut will be written.

I swear Ao3 saved my creativity. I pretty completely left Wattpad after that, didn’t touch transformers content again till recently this year.

And I’ve made a decision. I’m going to write a transformers fic. Not now, only next year it’s my last year of school and stuff is hectic. But I’m going to write it. To prove to myself I can write a good transformers fic with good characterization. And a reader or oc that has a bit more depth.

Anywho, @ss-shitstorm fic “Breaking Bread” heavily inspired me and actually was the reason I got back into the Ttansforemrs fandom. I highly recommend it it’s one of my new top favorites and has a terrifying attention to detail. Great characterization, hilarious reader insert that’s basically a very stressed out certain magical princess who’s got a knack for science and baking. And a crazy dog. And sassy bird. Who likes Fluttershy. It’s amazing.

Did I mention there’s actual science stuff in it? Stochiometry my nemesis.

And it’s got me thinking about making my own. Maybe more of an oc fic but still written like ny other reader ones.

I’m thinking of doing one where a human is put in a cybertronian body, TFP universe. They have basic knowledge of TFP, watched it but couldn’t remember everything. But they knew enough. Definitely enough o know that cybertron being alive was before the war.

They’re placed in a cybertronian body before the deception uprising. Still around the time where Functionisin ruled and they were in a kind of ‘presenter’/‘video camera’ alt mode.

Except they have anxiety, often freeze up with a panic enduring lack of social skills driven from their natural personality and the fact they’re a human soul shoved into a metal body. Completely alone and forced to adapt to a society that bases value on an alt mode.

The were an artist while human and over time through constant stress and a lack of familiarity with materials on cybertronian, they loose their love of painting and creating art.

But it’s reignited. They find a underground club where mecs and Femmas of many alt modes come together to anonymously submit art ranging from poetry to music and more. And that’s when they find it, a piece of writing that captures their soul. Something so deep and beautiful they feel their own spark reigniting, and they try their hand at creating again. Even if small.

They keep going to the club, building up courage to place art pieces on view. They don’t get much attention, except for a mech who seems curious and stands beside them as they pick apart every little detail.

They talk for a bit. Share a few critics, nothing too crazy. Turns out he’s the one who wrote that lovely piece of writing that inspired them. They turn around, gasping and thanking him for creating something so inspiring-

Megatron stands before them.

Or rather, Megatronus.

The gladiator had just begun his days of battle in the arena but the end was inevitable, the reader knew who he was and fled in terror leaving a confused (and proud, it felt good to know his words inspired at least one person) Megatronus behind.

Readers in a panic, but it doesn’t end there. Their ‘job’ forces them to begin recording the gladiator fights, particularly the rising star Megatronus leading to the eventual meet up of the two again.

But it doesn’t stop there. Soundwave came soon after and, shockingly enough, Ratchet after some unfortunate events (who is far flirtier and leaves the reader thinking “Oh my god he’s so smooth but whyyyyy”)

And it gets worse. Megatronus clearly wishes to se ether atrworks, one of the few along with Soundwave who sees something more than just a waste of time or hobby.

A relationship is formed, tentive on the readers side. They see him and Soundwave less and less like the terrifying deceptions they would become but rather who stood before them. Mechs bashed by a cruel system, they’re creativity forced to writher in their sparks painfully, smothered by a need to fight for the entertainment of others or die by the claws of the system.

They care about them, they eventually realise in horror. And on an unfortunate night they broke down and revealed to Soundwave a horrible truth. War was coming, and they knew what he would become. What All of them would. They beg him, plead to not take things too far. Life was precious, organic or not and taking those of innocents . . .

Soundwave was an outlier himself, but he remained somewhat skeptical. It wa shard to not belive them, the raw emotions they displayed showcased fear and he was good at reading others frames.

The little cybertronian was odd, but intriguing. A friend he had grown to care for, to wish to protect as his closest companion Megatronus insisted, over time. But if there was truth to their words they must know things that could endanger all of cybertron. Soundwave didn’t see himself as a activist nor rebellious but even he couldn’t deny the waters were churning.

Things happen, yada yada yada, reader gets kidnapped and put into stasis just as the war starts and wakes up many years later to the face of a human child se knew very well from a certain TV series.

All out panic ensures

OR, the other fic idea:

Human wakes up as a vehicon . Says “nope”, tries to get away and accidentally becomes the leader of a vehicon rights movement.

The autobots it’s are confused, the decepticons are angry and the reader just wants to get some dogs or cats dammit.

Of course, a dog does gain interest in them. And by that I mean a terrifying metal dragon who decides this trembling little con would be the perfect way to help him attain details on how to resurrect his kin.

He is very mistaken. Reader can’t even be in the same room as one of the deception lieutenants without rattling like a tin can.

Honestly don’t know if it would be a Soundwave or Megatron x reader. Definitely will be friendship developing there. Maybe both? I’m a sucker for tall dark and creepy guys who have a soft spot for tiny

Second idea is just all the vehicons lining up to get names form reader. All very human ones. . “Bill” “John” Matthew” Thomas” “My names already Steve” “Jenny” “Bucket”

And Reader is just stressing cause they’re not running a rebellion or anything. They’re running a daycare for a bunch of guys who do not care about their own safety and lives at all and she constantly has to tell them, no you cannot go to the Autobits the will shoot you on site. No, wanting to sacrifice yourself isn’t a good idea- CANDICE GET AWAY FROM THE FRAGGING WRECKER GOD DAMMIT DO NONE OF YOH UAVE ANY WILL TO LIVE?

Chaos ensures

[starstofillmydream]

Unpopular opinion on Commander Cody?

Hi anon! Thank you for the question! 😊

Okay, I can see this ruffling some feathers, so if you don't agree with my opinion, that's okay! I just want things to stay civil, even if people disagree 😅

My unpopular opinion of Commander Cody is twofold: 1) the "sunshine commander" narrative needs to go, and 2) Cody needs to be separated from Obi-Wan's character.

(1) The "sunshine commander" narrative needs to go.

I've talked about this before, but I'm sick of seeing Cody being characterized as "the sunshine." It's inaccurate and a tired assessment. Just because the fandom assumes the sunrise is painted on his armor doesn't mean we should automatically ascribe him to "sunshine" traits—you have to think about the connotations. In media, personifying characters as "the sun" and personifying characters as "the sunshine" are two completely different projects. A character personified as "the sun" has steadfastness and strength/power—after all, the sun leads the day. But it also burns and is dangerous. A character personified as "the sunshine" is cheery, upbeat, quirky, optimistic/idealistic, and sometimes, ditzy. Because Cody clearly doesn't fall under the latter, it would be more fitting to characterize him as a "sun" character (if you're even going to do that at all, because honestly, it's not even necessary. Categorizing clones as stock characters/characters in a trope minimizes the individuality and complexity they try so hard to establish, since you're only attributing them to one personality trait). Cody is a marshal commander—he leads a third of the Grand Army of the Republic under Kenobi, and for good reason. He's calm and collected under pressure; extremely intelligent, especially in military strategy/tactics; has insane combat skills, both with a blaster and hand-to-hand; he's stern and disciplined in order to keep his men alive; and he's diplomatic and has a sound moral compass. Most clones, including Cody, have a jaded outlook on life because of all they experienced during the war, both in combat and out of combat (e.g., Cody's hesitance to believe Rex that Echo was alive in TCW S7E1). There is nothing cheery, upbeat, quirky, optimistic/idealistic, ditzy, and thus sunshine-y, about the guy. He's not frolicking in a field of flowers and stopping to smell the roses—he's a soldier, a highly-trained and cunning one at that. So stop diminishing that core part of him just to fit an inaccurate narrative.

(2) Cody needs to be separated from Obi-Wan's character.

I swear, I can't see a sentence with Cody's name in it without Obi-Wan being in there too. Let Cody live his own life on his own terms without his general encroaching on it! There is so much more to Cody as a person than being Obi-Wan's shadow, and thank God for the writers of TBB S2E3 for showing that so clearly (I know people love to bring up the fact Cody frowned when Crosshair mentioned the Jedi being traitors and that Cody's negotiation skills with Tawni Ames came from Obi-Wan being "the negotiator" and all...but what if...and stay with me...Cody did that all on his own? You know, because he's one of the most brilliant minds in the Republic's military?). It hurts me so much to see Cody cast aside as a side-kick (or romantic interest, which I'm not personally a fan of. Cody would not be desperate enough to be in love with his general. Come on now. The man has standards, and disrupting the military hierarchy is a little icky, in my opinion. The power dynamics will always be off, whether people want to recognize that or not.)—I listed a whole bunch of canon attributes above that people seem to conveniently forget. People in the fandom are very selective as to which clones they give grace and which clones they do not. Cody is one of the clones they do not, as well as Bly, Crosshair, and Dogma, to name a few. But, what blows my mind is that clones like Fox—who only get a few minutes of screen time in the entire Clone Wars series—are given complex personalities, fanon-created faces, and ships with multiple people while Cody, who is the first live-action named clone we meet, is completely dependent on Obi-Wan. It's such a strange phenomenon.

That was long-winded, sorry anon 😅

Hang out with me ask game!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 316: We've Had One, Yes, But What About Second Explosion

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all “[powers up like whoa because it’s time to end the fight]”, and he saved Overhaul from getting not-shot, and then smashed up Nagant’s arm with the power of his new rechargeable super knees. Nagant was all “yoooo this kid is crazy strong whaaaat, it’s like he’s some kind of protagonist or something.” Deku was all “I AM A PROTAGONIST, ACTUALLY, DO YOU WANT TO JOIN FORCES AND FIGHT BAD GUYS WITH ME?” Nagant was all “ah shit why the hell no -- ” and then AFO was all “SURPRISE” and everyone was all “?!?!?!” and AFO was all “TIME TO EXPLODE NOW” and made Nagant explode because he’s an absolute fucking dick. And then Hawks showed up, because Horikoshi just wanted to stuff as many plot points as humanly possible into a single chapter I guess.

Today on BnHA: Hawks is all “good job giving motivational shounen redemption speeches Deku but I’ll take it from here” and screams very earnestly right in Nagant’s face until she finally wakes up. Nagant is all “oh hey it’s my successor, you seem surprisingly unfucked-up from your own HPSC tenure, how did you manage that?” Hawks is all “fandom is going to love hearing this one, but basically it’s because I’m very upbeat and also I had the world’s best role model Endeavor to look up to,” and I swear this man stirs the pot on purpose, but damn it I still love him so damn much. Overhaul is all “HELLO AGAIN, JUST A REMINDER THAT, THE BOSS!!” and Deku is all “MAYBE TAKE TWO SECONDS TO REFLECT ON HOW YOU TORTURED A LITTLE GIRL,” which, thank you, lol. Nagant is all “btw AFO’s hiding in a house in the woods”, and so Deku and the gang go to the house in the woods. Video recording!AFO is all “hi I’m AFO welcome to Jackass” and blows up the house. Sometimes I wonder if this manga is just a weird dream.

I am once again reading the Bean version because I think it was actually the best out of all three translations last week. and that is surprisingly including Viz’s. “faux” is not nearly as entertaining as “knockoff”, and also I have literally no idea why Caleb thought Deku was saying the Third’s lines lol

oh hey, Endeavor’s here too! not that you’d ever be able to tell from this first panel lmao

glad you received All Might’s call, mysterious unidentified glowing smudge

oh snap he says he’s weaker in the rain. is that why AFO told Nagant to attack then?? except that as we discussed the other day, I believe that AFO fully intended for Nagant to lose the fight, so him giving her info that would give her an advantage doesn’t really fit in with that. maybe he wanted Deku to be separated from Endeavor and the rest for maximum angst, though

btw Deku’s eyes are unsurprisingly back to the new normal here

alas, the angst continues. I say, pretending like I’m not totally eating it up each and every week and writing essay after essay about it lol

anyway so apparently Hawks can’t actually fly lmao. he was just yeeting himself with style

for some reason this is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen omfg. wave to Hawks, kids! say “bye, Hawks!”

j/k of course Deku is catching them. -- except???

wow so he was just running on fumes there at the end. well, good to know there is actually a limit to his shenanigans, particularly regarding this new “knockoff” 100% OFA. it will definitely not alleviate any of the discourse, but it’s good for my own peace of mind because it’s solid confirmation that he still needs his pals in order to win this thing

anyway, but on to the rest of this conversation, which is basically Deku deducing what we all deduced last week -- AFO implanted some sort of trap into Nagant when he gave her Air Walk. though I’d still like to get the actual details from AFO and/or Horikoshi, because this was particularly wild even by quirk standards lol

omgggggg

she still has a face after all!! so it’s confirmed, Horikoshi has no idea what “blowing up” actually means. we might have guessed, based on what happened to Toga in the MVA arc, and also based on everything Katsuki does ever, but shhh

so now Hawks is all “NAGANT PLEASE WAKE UP, IF I SHOUT MY NAME AT YOU WILL THAT DO THE TRICK”

this is actually kind of touching though because even though we all know (or most of us acknowledge at any rate) that Hawks is a pretty caring person, it’s rare to see him actually panic over someone’s welfare like this

oh shit Horikoshi is really doubling down on it

I wonder how much Hawks knew about what really happened between Nagant and the HPSC. regardless, he probably sees her as a kindred spirit of sorts, and I’m more than happy for Deku to pass the redemption torch onto him now that he’s on the scene. like no offense Deku but they actually know each other and stuff lol

DAMMIT NAGANT CAN’T YOU SEE HOW LOUD HE IS YELLING

apparently being freed from his HPSC shackles has finally given Hawks the space to embrace his own inner shounen protagonist. is there anything more shounen than trying to motivationally scream someone awake when they’re lying in your arms inches from death?? 100% guaranteed to work

!!! IS THIS NAGANT’S POV OMG

SO SHE IS ALIVE. THANK GOD. Horikoshi doesn’t want to meet with my emotional distress lawyer today after all

love how she’s all “just gonna stir up the weekly Hawks Discourse pot here by implying that he probably committed a lot of Atrocities just like I did, so now people can get all hopped up about that, even though there’s no evidence he’s ever killed anyone aside from that one horrible ‘damned-if-you-do...’ situation with Twice.” no one asked for your provocative speculation young lady!! trust me Nagant, our rabbles don’t need the rousing lol

but nice save there with the “so how are your eyes so untainted” well you see it’s because even when he was following the HPSC’s orders he always went to great lengths never to go against his own moral compass. which just to be clear was incredibly difficult, and led to a ton of pain and suffering on his part, because the life of a spy is basically just one impossible situation after another. but in spite of that he never stopped trying to do his best to help people. I don’t really know where this tangent came from or is leading to, lol, but anyway p.s.a. I love Hawks a lot and he’s a good kid dammit

oh shit??!?

how is the League always able to swing all these fancy forest mansions. where do they find them. how many do they have

so Deku’s dropping them -- very roughly, not sure if he was reacting to finally getting AFO’s location, or if his energy really is giving out -- and now Nagant’s saying that AFO hired other villains as well. well of course he did. gotta keep chipping away at OFA’s ninth successor little by little

now Nagant is asking Hawks how he’s able to keep making “that” face. I assume she’s again talking about the fact that he somehow didn’t let the HPSC wear down his spirit

oh my god???

thanks for stuffing this chapter to the brim with good nutritional Hawks Feels, Horikoshi. what a good. he just keeps on trudging forward undeterred no matter what bullshit comes his way. what a steadfast little guy. I WILL PROTECT YOU FROM DISCOURSE MY SWEET SUNSHINE

lmaoooo

“SPOTTED THIS DUDE JUST CHILLING OUT THERE ON THE ROOF WITH NO ARMS, SEEMED PRETTY SUS” good job Endeavor

anyway so you don’t really need me to tell you that Overhaul is immediately starting in with the “BUT THE BOSS WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME TO THE BOSS YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD TAKE ME TO THE BOSS” stuff again. but I will go ahead and tell you anyway. so yeah. he’s doing that

OMG YOU GUYS LOOK AT DEKU’S “of all the fucking assholes to just randomly drop in on my life once again why did it have to be you” FACE THOUGH, OMG

fun fact, if you go back to chapters 124 through 160, there was an entire story arc where Overhaul imprisoned and tortured a little girl. yeah, I know!! suuuuuuuuper evil. anyways just an interesting little anecdote for you all that’s somewhat relevant to the current situation

OMG, YES. FUCK YES, DEKU

THEN WHAT ABOUT SPARING ONE FOR HER!!! YES!!! EXACTLY!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, SOMEONE GETS IT

HERE’S THE PANEL OF DEKU SAYING THE EXACT SAME THING I’M SAYING LOL

(ETA: so apparently there’s some discourse about this because some people are interpreting this as Deku saying “you should apologize to Eri”, which would obviously be a terrible idea even if Overhaul actually wanted to do that, because Eri shouldn’t ever have to see him again. however I just want to point out that there is a HUGE difference between saying “it would be nice if you could direct that feeling of regret/being sorry towards Eri as well”, vs saying “you should also apologize to her.” all Deku is doing is rightfully pointing out that Overhaul has hurt way more people than just his boss, and if he really is remorseful, then he should extend those feelings of remorse to Eri and the rest as well. it’s not a directive to take any specific action, and I’m 1000% sure no one at U.A. would let Overhaul within 100 miles of Eri ever again.

tl;dr “try feeling remorse sometime” =/= “do you want me to fly you over to U.A. right now to surprise the little girl you traumatized”, lol.)

[slings an arm around Deku’s shoulders] you’re a good kid. I like you. I don’t know if I tell you that enough, but it’s true

meanwhile here is Overhaul’s “spare... a thought... for Eri...???????” face sigh

the struggle is real y’all

(ETA: and that’s... the last we ever saw of Overhaul, I guess? well all right then. I assume Deku will make good on his promise, so we know he’ll get that little bit of closure before going back to jail or whatever, and I confess I’m more than fine with leaving the rest of it open-ended, especially given his character’s history. I think this was pretty generous all things considered.)

lmao holy shit

All Might what did you do to those tiki torch guys?? did you thrash them. did you give ‘em those hands. did you deliver their own asses to them complete with a sticker reminding them Amazon Prime Day is on June 21. we missed out goddammit

so Endeavor, who wasn’t the one he was asking, is telling him that they captured (well let’s be real, Deku captured, give the credit where it’s due) Nagant and Overhaul. and so I guess they’re going to take Nagant to the ER now

fire is no one’s weakness

-- oh my GOD I scrolled down and audibly gasped

[is politely but firmly approached and asked to remove my arm from Deku’s shoulder by the physical manifestation of all this Dekuangst] “we’re sorry, he’s not allowed to have visitors right now” oh shit, my bad. [goes to stand behind a police barricade]

lmao what. did you run out of room on the previous page

what an exaggerated fade to black lmao

-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I actually can’t see what he’s reacting to so maybe I’m just seriously jumping the gun here lol, but THE HELL WITH IT. the next panel appears to be a cut to Haibori Forest, so I’m just gonna go ahead and declare that Deku ran off on his own all wounded to go have more Dekuangst, just like I manifested. now go call Katsuki goddammit

[scrolls three more inches down] oh

yeah so like I said, Deku is walking very slowly a few feet in front of Endeavor, who’s telling him to wait up. yep. we’ve all gotta be so careful to not just jump to conclusions. I know we’re excited but still

anyway, so! welcome back to Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods (ARE YOU GUYS DATING) and Edgeshot! have fun walking into this obvious trap lol

dammit Deku why are you so determined to tempt fate

[monkey puppet meme faces]

OH MY GOD THIS IS PURE GRADE-A CHEESY COMIC BOOK VILLAIN 101 SHIT AND I’M HERE FOR IT

that’s such a weird way of clapping who claps like that

unlike certain other people who shan’t be named, AFO doesn’t feel the need to inexplicably take his shirt off when recording sinister villain monologues. I think we’re all pretty grateful for that

high fives to everyone who called it!! yep yep

anyway so this whole scene has major booby-trap vibes, which I’m enjoying immensely even though I don’t think anything is really going to come of it lol. probably just another long-winded AFO Speech. but wouldn’t it be funny if like the ceiling started lowering down to try and squish Deku afterwards lol

(ETA: well the explosion was still pretty funny too ngl.)

ffff

[“Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies]

anyway so yeah. he’s just hitting up all of his usual villain talking points. we get it, you’re so smart and you see right through the thin veneers of society and people who don’t conform are left to fend for themselves and labeled as villains and history is written by the victors, and blah blah blah dude are you just jumping randomly from one soundbyte to another lol. literally what are you talking about. what does this have to do with you blowing up Nagant

-- holy shit??

[”Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies MORE?????]

LOL WHAT

BRO. WHAT IS WITH YOU. DON’T YOU KNOW HOW TO LAY ANY OTHER KIND OF FUCKING TRAP GOOD LORD

“YOU’RE NEXT” THE CALLBACK?? THE PARALLELS?? THOUGH WHEN ALL MIGHT POINTED HE MADE IT LOOK WAY COOLER. AFO’S POINTING JUST LOOKS LIKE SMOKEY THE BEAR

HAS ANYONE CHECKED IN ON KAMUI WOODS I HEAR HE IS WEAK TO FIRE?? THE ONLY ONE WHO IS, APPARENTLY

r.i.p. to this particular forest mansion. don’t worry they have a ton of backups

remember last week when I said maybe AFO thinks explosions are gauche. well never mind. he fucking loves explosions

anyway so that’s the end of BnHA, everyone. hope you enjoyed. it was a good ride while it lasted. see you all, good luck in your travels

[flusteredloser]

subzero - beverly marsh x fem!reader

it fandom week: huddling for warmth

content warnings: mentions of intoxication, smoking, swearing, fire, harmless threats, inhaler abuse, enemies to lovers, also i’m making bev tall bc i love tall gals word count: 3k

at the ripe age of ten years old, you knew you wanted to become a mother. the appeal of bouncing children in your lap, tucking them into bed, and the empowering feeling of calming tantrums down was something you naively believed was your destiny.  now, ten-year-old you was never wrong, you knew that. but what you didn’t expect was for your dream to come true at eighteen, stuck mothering six drunken teenage sons during a hailstorm’s power outage.

“edward. kaspbrak. i swear to god, if you do not go to sleep right now i will knock you out with your own inhaler.”

eddie groans at your words, still teeter-tottering towards the mattress. richie was already in bed, practically dead for a past half-hour. 

thankfully, he didn’t wake up from his comatose state when eddie gracefully slammed headfirst into the bed. you held your breath as the bed shook under eddie’s weight. drunken eddie was already a nightmare, what more, an even worse nightmare when catalysed with richie’s antics.  mike was slightly more useful. after throwing up in almost every sink in the house, he helped carry a very tipsy ben up the stairs and they were now both unconscious down the hall. bill wasn't exactly a disturbance, but he was incredibly determined to show us that he could play the piano right now if asked, that his skills were only heightened after dark. (the fact that bill had never touched a piano in his life, or that bev's apartment didn't even have a piano wasn't stopping him). bev was taking care of them in the other room, and based on the muffled conversation, was still trying to coax bill to sleep.  you and bev being the losers’ designated sober pair for tonight was the worst idea that had ever occurred to anyone. ever. the eight of you agreed. if you needed something done, you’d never leave the two of you to do it together.  but stan had explained that the rotation required the two of you to pair up tonight, no matter what. you didn’t quite understand the necessity of it but in all honesty, you’d rather put up with bev’s clownery than upset stan further.   speaking of, you glance at the lump on the floor, peacefully swaddled and engulfed in the massive duvet. you should probably check on stan’s breathing later. 

now, though, you still had one child left.

hearing the sound of an air pump go off from the bed, you walk back to eddie.

“but i’m so cold and i’m not even tired,” said eddie, his inhaler still jammed in his mouth.

“eddie, the power will be back in no time, and if you keep pumping that shit in your mouth, you’re never going to feel tired,” you sigh, taking the aspirator away.

“no, but seriously.” eddie continues, his eyes filled with sleep-deprived mania. “i swear, i’m like wide awake, i don’t even need sleep right now, it’s technically the morning and nO WHAT THE HELL-”

clutching the pump in your hand, you watch the white vapour shoot against eddie’s face. nothing but eddie’s exasperated coughing filled the room.

“i told you, i’m not afraid to use this.”

“i thought...you said...you were going to...knock me out with it,” eddie questioned between coughs.

you narrow your eyes at him, “you keep this up and i will knock you with it.” 

“wow, you really are gonna make a great mother someday.”  you let out a deep groan, turning to see where the new voice came from. leaning against the doorframe with a lit cigarette between her fingers was bev in all her smug glory. 

“you know, after dealing with kaspbrak tonight, he makes you look like an angel,” you roll your eyes.

“hey!” you hear a muffled voice from under the blanket. 

“go to sleep, pretty boy,” bev chuckles, some smoke escaping with her laugh, “i know it’s hard after seeing her troll face but you have to try.”

you rolled your eyes again at the two giggles in the room, shuffling around the bed, carefully stepping around stan’s body. you continue to walk past bev and into the hall. 

the house was silent. no one lived here anymore but bev since you guys graduated, and since mr. marsh stopped residing here, the apartment had an almost peaceful quality.

walking past the guest room, you grin at the sight of mike, ben, and bill entwined together on the floor. oh, how much tamer this group would’ve been compared to the menaces next door. 

you snatch your backpack from the living room sofa and dug through the pockets anxiously. searching against the walls of your bag and still finding nothing, you began to feel more and more nervous. “fucking hell, where is it,” you whisper. at this rate, you weren’t sure if the thumping in your ears was from the sound of sharp hail hitting the windows or your heart beating in your throat. you stand up in a deeper panic, aggressively patting your pockets up and down.

“you know, as entertaining as this is to watch, i almost feel bad.” 

“bev..." you sigh. "i am not in the mood."

“why? too busy looking for your pack of camels?” you hear the sound of a familiar cardboard flap opening, “personally, i’m more of a marlboro girl but i mean, these work too.”

you spin around and storm up to bev, snatching the lit cigarette from her lips. “that’s mine?”

she smirks, “you left your backpack open, it was practically an invitation.” 

“an invitation for you to go through my shit?” you hissed, dangling the ignited end near her face.

she snatched her cig back and mockingly dangling it back near your face, “yeah, a formal invitation for me to smoke off this monstrosity of a temperature. what do you want, an apology too? i can write you one asap, let me find bill’s notebook-”

taking the cig back once more, you snap. "you’re such an ass, bev.”

she grins, following closely behind you. she could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and she secretly hoped you’d accidentally stop in your tracks so she could run into you. in the name of transferring body heat and what not. shaking off these thoughts that were hijacking her brain, she makes a kissy sound, “c’mon, you know you love it.”

“mmhm sure, bev. because i’m really into girls stealing my shit.”

pinching the flame from the cig and dumping it in the tray, she leads the both of you into the supply closet. she chuckles as she leans against the doorway, leaving you feeling trapped in the tight room. you knew she was laughing because you insisted on going in first and now that you were the one having to get the stuff, but you didn’t quite register that the things you needed was on the top shelf. up high stood a high stack of blankets. and they looked like they could singlehandedly cure the subzero temperature. 

clearly, you must have been looking up at the blankets for a moment too long because bev gave up and leaned forwards to grab the stack. the sensation of her flushed against your back was enough to make you dizzy, not to mention how absolutely warm she was. and of course... it was bev. 

bev. the girl who you rolled your eyes at every day, the girl who taunts you at any given minute, the girl you would, and had, risked your life for. you guys never talk about neibolt, but sometimes you catch yourself thinking of what could have happened if it went south. if you hadn’t grabbed her in time, and if you didn’t switch places just before pennywise launched at you...  absentmindedly tracing the scar down your stomach, you think of the absolute lack of regret you feel to this day. you always had this joke that you wanted to kill her, but how much of that was true?

“darling, did the cold already go and rot your brain?” bev faux-pouts, “not that there was much to begin with, but i’m still worried.” the stack of blankets was now under her arms with one stretched out as she began to wrap it around herself.

never mind. sometimes you did want to kill her. 

by habit, you went on your tip toes in order to get to bev’s face, but she was already crouched a couple inches from your face. trying to keep your racing heart under wraps, you choke out a semi-convincing “don’t make me murder you, beverly.”

she grins back your serious face. "aww no, i couldn’t let you do that. the knives and other weapons are also stored up there.” she teases, slinging her arm around your shoulder and dragging you to deliver the blankets to the boys. 

"oh, fuck off." you shove bev's arm off of you and walked back into richie, eddie, and stan's room. true to your word, you kneeled down to the floor and gently rolled stan’s head towards you. placing your two fingers against his pulse point, you giggle to yourself at the absurd action. if it wasn’t already obvious that he was indeed alive, he groans under you, but you shush him in time. lightly stroking his curls, you whisper. "i’m just checking up on you, stan,” placing the second blanket onto him. he groaned back.

quietly tip-toeing towards the bed, you tossed the other blanket over richie and eddie. “i swear, these guys would be dead already without us.” you laugh to yourself. 

a dim light flickers from the living room and casts a light across the hall. you shut the door behind you as you leave, going into the living room to see bev on the sofa, engulfed in her own large fleece blanket. the only thing peeking out was her face and hands as her she alternated flickering her lighter's warmth on her fingers. 

without thinking, you plop by her on the sofa. “whatcha doing there, you pyro?”

“it’s getting so fucking cold,” bev half-heartedly jokes. you can see her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, but her voice was so contradictingly soft it made your heart melt.

you extended your open hand to her and she stared at it. “blood oath part two? promise to never be sober again during a powercut?”

“i wish, and shut up. don’t play dumb with me, beverly.”

you notice the slightest tinge in her cheeks as she places her hand along with her lighter in yours. you immediately recoil at her freezing fingertips and the lighter clatters to the ground. bev rolls her eyes and shifts away, “first you want to hold my hand, secondly you’re acting like i have fucking HIV.”

“firstly, smartass, i’d still hold your hand if you had HIV-”

“aww-”

“because it’s a blood-borne pathogen so unless you bleed or shit or lactate on my hand, i’m safe.”

bev’s face scrunches up. “how romantic.”

“now shut it and give me your hand already.” you say, placing your palm out for her again.

now bev is the one rolling her eyes at you for a change. she gives you her hand, much slower this time though, careful not to have you pull away again. not having you pull away? why was this something she was considering? 

immediately, bev felt the heat from your skin radiate against hers’, instantly igniting her skin in goosebumps. she instinctively gave you her other hand and you take with a soft smile. 

“now...why the hell are you built like a goddamn radiator.” bev grumbled, rubbing her hands together under yours.

“well, i don’t see you complaining, do i?” you raise your eyebrows.

“i’m not mad...it’s just that it’s not like you need it,” bev says between chuckles, “you’re like five feet tall. not exactly a lot of surface area to heat up.”

“you’re such a dick, bev. you’re losing your hand-holding privileges,” you side-eye, pulling your warm fingers away.

she gasped, “oh, don’t you dare.”

“yes, i do. it’s not like i’m dying to feel your freezing hands on me, bev.” you desperately try to make the statement sound as sarcastic as you can, but it ends up coming out much shakier than expected. 

even in the dark, you can see the glint of bev’s mischievous grin. “oh really? you don’t want to feel my freezing hands?” “is that a trick question?” you sigh exasperatedly, “because if you as much as-”

suddenly, you feel bev’s ice-cold fingers press against the skin on your ribcage and you immediately squeal. you clamp your hand over your mouth at the scare, you try and contain the others sounds that escape you as she further presses her freezing hands against your warm skin. scrambling away from her grasp, you slap the back of her head.

“you stop that right now or i will leave you on your own porch to freeze,” you threaten through gritted teeth.

“mmhm, like you would.” she teases, continuing to press the pads of her still-cold fingertips into your stomach. 

you felt your heart rate rise significantly, to the point that you were sure that your unknown warmness was actually due to bev making the blood pump 10x more than normal. every braincell swimming inside your head was on the brink of short-circuiting at the feeling of bev’s hands dancing along the edge of your bra. what the hell is she thinking?

after a couple more rounds of her threatening to freeze your midriff and you threatening to crack open a window, you both surrender and allow her keep her hands clasped between yours, resting atop your chest.

“are you not getting any warmer?” you groan, forcing yourself to snap out of your own feelings. 

“hey, you’re the hot-pack here. do you think i’m feeling any warmer?” she goes back to press her freezing palms against your stomach.

“no, no, no, do not do that again.”

bev sighs, “then what the hell am i supposed to do?” she sits upright and tightens the blanket around her head. shifting away from you, she shivers her way back into the other end of the sofa. “i’m dressed in triple the layers you are, moved around way more than you have, i’m even wearing this gigantic fleece eyesore-”

“oh for fuck’s sake just come back here.” you roll your eyes.

bev moves about an inch closer. 

you feel your heart constrict in your chest and you let yourself say it before you could think it any further, “i said, come here.” you lift one of your arms and gesture for her to come closer. scooting your body near to the end of the sofa, it was clear that the space you made was so she could easily crawl in next to you.

“are- are you... you want me to-”

you’re sure your whole face has gone red. bev she already can’t stand you so why not just make it even more awkward, huh? you bit your tongue gently, calming yourself down. if bev didn’t know that you offered to cuddle with her just because you could, then that was her fault for being so daft. you sigh, resuming back into your deadpan state. “yeah, i can’t listen to another minute of your whinging.”

“no, i heard you, i just-” she stammers, looking equally red herself. you feel a huge tiny sense of pride as you realised you’ve rendered bev speechless. beverly marsh. speechless.  

“what are you waiting for?” you tease, “a formal invitation?” 

having the upper hand for once was refreshing, if not thrilling. being the one to tease her and watch her become flustered was something you wish could happen more often. 

bev’s face breaks out in the softest smile you’ve ever seen. she slowly makes her way over to you, shifting her body close to yours without touching you yet. “is that too much to ask for? a formal invitation?” you let out an unexpected genuine laugh at her silliness and bev giggles in unison. this was different than your default laughter made of semi-amusement and sarcasm. she rests her weight against you, her cheek gently pressing into your collarbone. her fingertips resume their spot against the flushed skin of your stomach and your own cheeks turn red again. there wasn’t a functional reason for her to do that anymore.

“stop that before i regret this, bev.”

“there’s no way in hell you regret this.” she grins, followed by the faintest whisper of an “i sure don’t.”

you were about to reply and perhaps mention how you’d be okay with her falling asleep in your arms, that you could tolerate such juvenile behaviour. you know, in the name of public health and safety, but bev beats you to it.

“just let me warm up here for ten minutes, alright. then you can let go and i’ll sleep on my side right after,” she rushes out.

that wasn’t how you thought it was going to know. your heart sinks slightly at her words but you try not to take it personally. what else could you do? it was almost like a wake-up call, reminding the both of you that this wasn’t normal for you and bev. 

after a minute or so, you found yourself absentmindedly weaving your fingers through bev’s auburn hair, gently combing it with your hands like you did earlier with stan. “you have such soft hair,” you whisper against her hair. 

you hear her mumble against the blanket indistinguishably and you find yourself closing your eyes at the vibrations of her voice against you. if only bev wanted to stay here like this and this feeling between the two of you could last more than the next ten minutes. you let your eyelids drift down momentarily, and you smile at the thought.

just a couple minutes later, your mind jolts back awake, and your heart sinks at the thought of having to wake her up so she could move to her side of the sofa and sleep. you reach over to feel the ends of her hair between your fingers again, grounding yourself to this feeling one last time before bev had to wake up. once you peel your eyes open however, you immediately shut them against the bright light shining at you. was richie planning on abducting y’all in the middle of the night again? gently prying your eyes open for the second time, you notice the light is shining from the window. you sigh in relief.

wait. the window? 

your eyes shoot open fully. the hail had stopped. and it’s day time. 

snapping your head down to bev, you take in her figure still fit snugly into your side. her free arm rests across your chest, her legs were entwined with yours. ...and her electric blue eyes stare right into you. your heart instantly jumps into your throat as you scramble for excuses, fuck, anything that would keep you from explaining yourself.

instead, she shifts her body upwards so she’s fit even tighter against your side,  placing her face into the crook of your neck. her lips were right at your pulse point, sending your mind spiralling at the thought that she could probably feel how fast your heart was beating right now. her lips move against your skin, saying something barely above a whisper.

“you tell anyone about this and i’ll fucking end you.”

[mrsalwayswrite]

Magic and Firelight (Ivar x reader)

Oh God. you know how I said I never write smut....apparently I lied. I blame this entire thing on @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom​ and @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ for encouraging this. All. Their. Faults. 

This one-shot was inspired by the moodboard created by the ever-lovely @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom​ for a challenge. In the challenge she had to use Ivar, MagicAU and Licking....so I made sure to incorporate those themes into this written one-shot.  

Also this does not fit anywhere in the Vikings timeline because I want everyone alive and marginally happy, ok? So everyone lives in Kattegat but think season 5a Ivar. 

Warnings: SMUT, unexpected feels, like one swear word. 

Words: 4200

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​ @evelynshelby​ @pomegranates-and-blood​ 

reminder: not my moodboard. this entire, glorious thing belongs to @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom​ who was kind enough to let me use it.

  Revelry filled the air, coating everything in the Great Hall like a fresh snowfall. The feast was well underway. The smell of roasted meat and ale rose steadily into the air, along with the laughter and cheers of those still in attendance. A contest of strength just finished, the loser ending up with blood dripping from his nose, tainting his teeth, as he laughed uproariously. 

 A joyous shout shot through the hall. The signal of the next form of entertainment. Fists pounded on the tables in delight, a few exclamations arising amongst the sound. All noise ceased when a slow drumbeat began, like the echo of a steady heart. It sunk into the skin, traveling to the chest until one's heartbeat matched in echo. 

 Ivar shifted in his seat near the base of the thrones. They both sat empty behind him, his mother having retired long ago, and Ragnar at a nearby table with Floki and a few others, laughing with a flushed face and ale horn in hand. Glancing around his table, he could see the wild excitement in his brothers' eyes…. for they all knew what came next. 

 As the drumbeat started to increase, the first of the swirling dancers emerged. Their bodies covered in thin fabric that teased as much as it covered, leaving one longing for a glimpse only to be denied as she continued her provocative movements. The six beautiful women moved through the tables like swans gliding through water, each step, each sway of their hips graceful and in tune with the beat.

 "Who are they?" Ivar asked gruffly. These women were not the normal entertainment at a feast. Nor did he did not recognize any of them. 

 "They came with a trader from the Mediterranean." Ubbe answered, never removing his eyes from the dancers. "He petitioned with father yesterday to allow them the chance to entertain us in the way of their people…. or something along those lines."

 "Remind me to ask that trader where they are specifically from, because I know where I am going to explore next." Hvitserk stated with a smirk. 

 Ubbe bumped shoulders with Hvitserk, an unspoken agreement in the action. 

 Ivar rolled his eyes at their antics and turned his gaze back to the dancers…. Only to freeze when one locked eyes with him. 

 She stood across the fire, the flames appeared to lick and dance upon her skin. Every curve, each dip of her luxurious body highlighted in the flickering light. Her hair hung long, swaying with each movement, its own form of enticement. It was those eyes though, that held him spellbound to her. Large, luminous orbs that seemed to peer into his soul, that stole the very breath from his lungs. All he could do was stare as she danced. Each movement was pure elegance and seduction. The whole time those mesmerizing eyes kept him spellbound, oblivious to all but her. With her eyes locked on him, it felt she danced only for him. Each twirl of her body, each shake of her barely clad hips, her hands tracing patterns in the air, it all felt like a dance to entrance him. To maintain his attention. To rile up his blood and desire for her. To make him yearn for her with his whole body and soul. 

 When she finally released him from her gaze to spin away, he gasped in a lungful of air. Not realizing until now how he had forgotten to breathe while watching her, so enthralled by her, even air became unnecessary. 

 "You alright, Ivar?"

 The raven-haired Ragnarsson looked at Hvitserk, noticing the smile that teased the corners of his mouth. 

 "This is the closest he's seen a naked woman besides Margrethe and we all know how that went." Sigurd snarked, bringing his cup of ale to his lips. 

 "Shut up before I rip your tongue out and feed it to the flames." He snarled at his curly-haired brother. Fury stirred in the hollow of his chest like a wild animal threatening to tear apart its cage. 

 Ubbe smacked the table. "Enough. Both of you."

 The table quieted as their focus returned to the dancers. Eyes searching the hall, a slow-growing panic simmered in Ivar's gut as he could not see her. The other five dancers spun and twirled about, their bodies an example of art in motion. 

 Without warning, the gentle touch of a hand on his shoulder caused his head to whip to the side, ready to demand blood from the one with the audacity to touch him…. Only to be met with those eyes that made him flustered and hot all over. 

 With her touches tender, she trailed her hand from his shoulder up his neck to cup the side of his face. Even if the need arose, he would be unable to remove himself from her sensual touch and her penetrating gaze, bewitched by her to remain still. Never before had he felt so exposed to someone. Even the times when he broke bones and had to be carried like a child, humiliation ripping into his skin. Now he felt undone as she beheld him, consumed by her with just a look. If the other dancers were art, then she, this divine beauty beside him, was a masterpiece, crafted by the gods themselves.

 Waves of jealousy rolled off his brothers, crashing against him like stormy waves on a beach but for once, he did not care. His eyes stayed glued to her, hypnotized by her very presence. 

 Suddenly he found himself facing her, unable to remember when he turned away from the table. She stood between his brace-clad legs, gazing down at him. Her fingers traced over his cheek, only to land at his mouth. Her thumb rubbed his bottom lip, encouraging his lips to part. Unable to resist her, he obliged, lips parting slightly. She made no further move, either to draw away or closer. His heart beat rapidly with excitement and mischief. A streak of wicked intent made his lips curl slightly, giving him away. His leather-bound hands reached out for her thighs; the soft skin almost foreign beneath his calloused-hardened fingers. In the same instant, he nipped at her thumb, still lingering on his bottom lip. Then he waited for her reaction with an impish smirk.  

 She chuckled, a sultry, honeyed sound that flowed straight to his useless cock and made him shiver in delight. 

 Never removing her eyes from his, she reached down to grab one of his hands on her exposed thighs. Then torturously slow, she guided it up the contours of her body, his hand caressing her hip, up her stomach and between her full breasts until his hand was at her mouth. Without waiting, she encouraged two of his fingers within. As her tongue swiped and sucked on his fingers like they were a tasty treat, Ivar lost all ability to think or resist. His hand still on her, gripped her thigh to ground himself, to confirm this was not a dream. 

 Women never paid attention to him, never looked at him with lust. After the latest raid in England where he proved his prowess in strategy and as a warrior, less women looked at him with disgust.

 But never this. 

 Never had one put him under a spell that made him want to sell his soul to possess her. Never had he seen desire darken a woman's eyes as they beheld him. Never had his own body and mind reacted with such a carnal, animalistic instinct. 

 He pulled his fingers from her mouth and dropped his hand to curl around her throat with just the slightest pressure. "Are you a thrall?"

 "No." She answered in a breathy tone, that only intensified his growing lust. Then she leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear, those barely contained breasts almost in his face. "Do with me what you want, Ivar the Boneless. I am yours tonight."

 Whatever previous desire bubbled in his veins exploded at hearing her alluring whisper. A guttural groan lodged in his throat. The hunger for her reached an all-consuming, feverish pitch. Without a word, he pushed himself to his feet, slipping the crutch under his arm. "Come."

 He half expected her to laugh and walk away but instead, she traced a hand down the tunic over his torso with a purr of pleasure. Then when she looked up at him coyly once more, he was halfway to throwing her onto the table behind him to ravish her right there. 

 She silently followed him back to his room. The whole walk his mind raged, both in desire and fear. He knew he could not pleasure her as a man but this ethereal creature that followed him deserved to be worshipped. And she had chosen him tonight. Out of all those in the hall, including his brothers…. she chose him. 

 He vowed to make sure she did not regret it. 

 He dismissed his personal thrall as they walked in, pleased to see the fire lit in the small hearth and furs laid out before it. The door closed, echoing in the room. Once alone, he moved over to sit on a nearby stool, leaning his crutch on the wall behind him. 

 She watched the fire, standing in the middle of his room. Her clothing appeared almost translucent in this light, a way of directing and guiding the eye along her perfect body. 

 "Take off your clothes." He commanded in a husky tone. 

 With a seductive wink back at him, she tugged on the few ties keeping the minimal clothing on her flawless body. In a moment, everything pooled at her feet….and he damn near swallowed his tongue. Bare before him, he was convinced there was nothing more stunning, more gorgeous than her. She put every sunset to shame, every spring flower, every star to grace the night sky, nothing could ever compare to her. 

 "Dance for me, my beauty." 

 A beguiling smile on her lips, she watched him for a moment. Then she began to move. A slow sway of her hips, hands trailing up her body to rise above her head. 

 There was no force that could tear his gaze away from her. When she danced in the Great Hall, he had been memorized…. but now, it would be sinful to remove his eyes from her graceful form. The circular motion of her hips, her hands tracing the curves of her body, the heavy-lidded eyes that watched him. He wanted nothing more than to sit at her feet for eternity and watch her dance. To worship at her altar and bestow her with gifts from the Aesir. 

 Then she began to spin slowly, allowing him to see all of her, a music leading her that only she was aware of. At one point, she squatted down and slowly rose, only to snap her hips up in a way that made him audibly growl. His hands were clenched in his lap, desperate to touch her, to replace her hands with his as they caressed her body. 

 Finally he could stand it no longer, this enchanting, sensual dance that made his blood boil ceaselessly with desire. 

 He swallowed thickly, mouth dry. "Go by the fire." He demanded. 

 If she was confused by his command, she said nothing. Turning around she sashayed over to the furs laid in front of the small hearth in his room. His eyes greedily drunk in the curves of her body as she moved. She laid down on the pile of furs before the hearth, unashamed in her nudity. With the colors of the flames and shadows painted across her body, she appeared ethereal. Something only for the gods to view. Perfection at its purest form.

 Sitting on the stool, he quickly worked the straps of his braces, never taking his eyes off her. Unwilling to miss her glory for even a moment. She laid on her side, gaze on him. One hand propped her head up while the other skimmed those curves highlighted by the flames. 

 Once freed, he crawled over to her like the predator he was. Hunger and domination with each placement of his hands and shift of his shoulders. There was no doubt who was in control. His fierce gaze never removed from her, keeping her pinned with the same strength as if ropes held her down. As he approached, she silently rolled onto her back, an intensity in those eyes as they watched him and a kittenish smile on her lips. With that, he crawled up her body until he hovered over her, blanketing her perfect form. Then he waited. Staring down at her, he was shocked once again that she chose him. That she currently lay beneath, pliant to his touch and commands. It was a powerful and dark sensation. To have this control, this power over her….to have her at his mercy. A more rapturous feeling than killing Christian priests or obliterating any army. 

 "Ivar…." She sighed out, tracing the line of his jaw with her finger. "Don't keep me waiting."

 A crooked grin grew on his face. Here lay this Valkyrie, this goddess, this divine creature beneath him, begging for him. Without wasting a moment, his mouth descended on her skin, his arms holding himself just above her. He placed open-mouth kisses along her chest, loving the soft sounds of pleasure it drew from her. His tongue traced the curve of her breasts, paying special attention to the tattoo of a flower between them. Suddenly he drew one of her nipples into his mouth, causing her back to arch. Her hand flew up to grip his braids, as he sucked and licked the bud until it was hard and peaked, then he switched to the other side to repeat his ministrations. 

 "Ivar…." She moaned, tugging on his braids, hips rolling beneath them. 

 "Shhhh…. soon." He nipped at the side of her breast, pleased with the heat that flared in her eyes. "We go at my pace…. and I plan on taking my time."

 Slowly he slithered his way down her body, his tongue leading the way over her soft skin. There was nowhere he did not worship with his mouth, nowhere safe that his tongue did not covetously explore. By the time he was done with her, his mouth and tongue intimately knew every inch of her and the erotic sounds those spots drew from her lips. With a long swipe of his tongue starting at her sternum, he trailed it down between her breasts to her belly only to end at the top of her womanhood. 

 He glanced up from between her legs, the scent of her arousal a beacon for him to follow. She laid there, bathed in flames, coated in his saliva, chest rising and falling like the waves of the seas, with her eyes closed and mouth partly open. Never had he witnessed anything more magnificent. 

 "Still with me, my beauty?"

 Her eyes fluttered open to peek at him, a tantalizing smile on her lips. "Always."

 With that, he dove into her. His mouth feasted on the juices coming from her womanhood. It was nothing like he expected. She tasted sweeter than honey, stronger than ale. He continued to lap and lick her, wanting more, needing more of her taste. For he swore, this was the nectar of the gods. A sweet ambrosia not meant for mortal men. 

 Her cries of pleasure doubled his resolve to ravish her with his tongue. To bring her such pleasure that she would always remember him. He flicked at her clit with his tongue, watching her keen to the ceiling above. Her hips rolled as he sucked at her folds with reckless abandon. 

 Each mewl and cry from her mouth, made him feel like a god. Each chanting of his name seemed to strengthen his body to continue. Even as he laid on the floor, propped up on his elbows, her legs over his shoulders, he felt no pain. As if her ecstasy flowed back into him. Instead of the constant ache of pain from his legs that clawed at his mind ceaselessly, for once it was silenced. All he was aware of…. was her. As if she invaded his body and possessed his mind. 

 If he was to die now, with her cries of pleasure filling his ears, he knew Odin would still allow him into Valhalla. For to bring this celestial being pleasure must be akin to the glory of battle. His blood roared in his ears, forcing him to continue, desperate for more. Her taste on his tongue was a craving he never knew he had until now. In the cradle of her thighs was his new favorite place to exist. 

 When she peaked, when her pleasure overwhelmed her and his name was screamed into the very heavens above, he greedily ate away at her, drinking everything down and still yearning for more. He licked at her womanhood through the aftershocks, her taste and scent all his senses wanted to know. 

 Once satisfied, he peered up at her, expecting to see her blissed-out, eyes closed and immobile. Instead what he witnessed made him freeze, unable to move.

 She observed him with eyes that glowed like two full moons on the darkest of nights. 

 Where once he had been the predator, intent on devouring her, adamant to possess her…. now he understood. He was the prey. He was the one caught in the spider's web. He was the one now owned by her alone. Those glowing eyes entranced him, preventing him from looking away, sealing his mouth shut to call out. Unable to do anything but gawk at her in a bewildered, longing awe. 

 Slowly she leaned up, staring at him. He could not remember moving. All his mind could fathom were those eyes…. those glowing orbs that he swore had seen Valhalla, that galaxies swirled amidst, that stole his soul and branded her mark on him. When he next blinked, he was sitting, with her straddling his lap, in all her exquisite, naked glory. Her eyes beheld him with softness, her hands a gentle weight on his shoulders, even her bare breasts pressed against his chest, all of it alluded a power that could only be answered with reverence. 

 "Who…. are you?" He stuttered out. 

 She smiled; a captivating thing that made him want to worship her again but also sink his teeth into her bottom lip. "I have been called many things throughout my life. But tonight, those names do not matter. Tonight, I am simply y/n…. Tonight, I am here for you."

 "Y/n?"

 She purred as if the name stoked a fire within her. "Yes, my valiant warrior." Her hand tangled in his braids again, almost guiding his head to the side as her plump lips skimmed his jawline. "I have heard your prayers, seen your cries. I cannot give you your legs but I will give you what I can."

 A quake raced up his spine. "What?"

 "Shhhh…. surrender to me." 

 Hesitantly, she pressed her lips to his, as if giving him time to pull away. Instead, he felt a jolt shoot through him. He groaned, opening his mouth, allowing her to take control. He had thought her taste as he lapped greedily at her core was ambrosia, but her mouth…. oh, the taste of her mouth was both death and life combined. Something so intoxicating and potent, it stole the very breath from his lungs while a vitality bleed into his veins simultaneously.  Her mouth held him prisoner, a melding of their lips and tongues that scorched him in every way deliciously possible. 

 "Do you feel it?" She whispered, before delving into his mouth again with an even greater need. 

 And he did. By this point, his legs should be screaming at him, especially with her weight on his thighs. Instead there was no pain, no ache. Only blissful tingles danced on his nerves and a fire stirred in his belly. 

 He wrenched his mouth from hers, eyes wide and panting as he gawked at her. 

 "I cannot heal you," she quietly said, eyes still glowing, "but I can take some of your pain in exchange for the pleasure you gave me."

 Unexpected tears welled in his eyes. Pain, his constant companion since birth, now was barely a blip on his mental radar. He dropped his head to her chest, overwhelmed by the lessened pain and bliss coursing through his veins. As he thought about it, as he feasted on her, every lick, every caress of his tongue against her, pain drained from his body like slow droplets of water. It was only now he noticed, so caught up in her exquisite taste, that he easily could become drunk on and never wish to be sober again. 

 She spoke against his ear, authority and power ringing in each word. "Hear my words, Ivar the Boneless. Your fame will live on for generations. You will not be forgotten, in this life or the next. This is my final gift that I give you."

 She drew his face back to hers, pressing her lips to his in a fiery, desperate kiss. Her words, her touch, her taste, everything felt seared into the very marrow of his bones. A burst of white light and ecstasy flooded through him, making him wonder for a second if he died. 

 When he opened his eyes, mind hazy as if intoxicated, it was to find himself alone. Frantic, he looked around. Yet there was nothing to show of her presence. Not even her discarded clothes lay on the floor anymore. 

 "No….no, no, no." He mumbled, refusing to believe she was gone…. but there was no denying the truth. Yet even as he sat there, tears still slipping down his cheeks, he could feel her presence with the absence of pain. He could still taste her on his tongue. Strength and vitality flowed through his crippled body in ways he had never felt before. 

 He was unsure how long he sat there before a quick knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. It opened to reveal Hvitserk who cautiously stepped in, eyes scanning the room. 

 "You alright, brother?"

 Ivar wondered at the stupid question then realized he must be referring to the evidence of tears still staining his cheeks. Hastily he wiped them away on his sleeve. "What are you doing here?"

 "We thought we heard something…. I came to check on you." He tilted his head and scanned the room once again. "Where is she?"

 Ivar turned his face to the fire, without answering. How could he explain all that just occurred without sounding mad? That a glorious being chose him, used him for her pleasure and then gave him priceless gifts. No, no one would believe that. This was a memory, a present for him alone to cherish. 

 "You know if you need advice with pleasuring a woman, I am more than willing to help. They do call me the love guru." Hvitserk chuckled but immediately silenced at the stony glare Ivar sent his way. "Um, right. Well, I'll head back out." He started to walk away but stopped at Ivar's call. 

 "Wait!" When Hvitserk turned back around, Ivar swallowed thickly then continued. "What…. what color are my eyes?"

 The flaxen-haired brother moved closer. "Um, blue…. a vibrant blue…. they almost look like they are glowing but with a veil over them. I've never seen them like that before. Are you feeling alright? Do you want help getting to your bed?"

 Ivar smiled longingly, his chest squeezing at his brother's words. "No….no, I feel… I feel great, Hvitty."

 "Um, sure. Do you need anything?"

 "No, you can go back out to the feast."

 "Okay, good night, Ivar."

 Ivar did not answer, only just hearing the door closing as turned back to face the dancing flames. His mind drifted to thinking about her, his beauty. 

 Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something nestled between the furs. Carefully he maneuvered himself over to gently grab it, curiosity pushing him forward despite caution. Cradling it in his hand like a priceless treasure, he now could see what it was; a pendant, only the size of his thumb, but it was in the color and shape of a full moon and an etching that matched the tattoo of the flower between her breasts. 

 "Y/n." He whispered, as if prompted by something to say her name. To his surprise, the pendant glowed faintly for a moment, so reminiscent of her eyes before dulling back. 

 "Thank you." He slipped his necklace off with Thor's hammer and added the pendant. Once back on his neck, he lifted the pendant and kissed it, only to stifle a moan as the faintest hints of her taste tingled on his lips. 

 Feeling euphoric, he laid back on the pile of furs, pressing the pendant to his lips. He closed his eyes, trying to remember every moment with her. He prayed that he could see her once again, either in this life or in Valhalla. For he knew, there would never be another like her. He had no idea who or what she was, only the name she gave him. A name that would be branded upon his heart and soul for all eternity. 

[imagines-by-rose]

Turning Point

Hello again! Have some angst, on the house ;)

Fandom: Kingsman

Pairing: Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Genre: Angst w/Happy Ending

Warnings: Mentions of Blood

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eggsy was running at full tilt through the foggy streets, the echoes of y/n’s anguished screams carried to him over the hard brick. Freezing rain pelted relentlessly against him and formed dark, icy pools at the foot of the surrounding buildings that seemed to loom, stifling, over him from all sides. He heard her shriek his name and was unable to ease his growing panic.

He stumbled on the slick cobblestone when he barreled around the corner, and when he righted himself he was met with blinding police lights, a pile of rubble where his house once stood, and y/n, fighting with all she had to run toward the ruined home against the restraint of two EMTs. An ambulance was parked nearby at the ready.

“NOO! Please! You have to let me find him, please!”

Eggsy weaved untouched through the police blockade. “Y/N!”

She stilled at his call and turned to him in disbelief. Her eyes were wild, and if it weren’t for the rain her hot tears would have left heavy tracks down her reddened cheeks. She doubled over with wracked sobs and fell hard onto her knees.

The EMTs relaxed their hold on her and y/n reached out to Eggsy, desperate. When he finally made it to her she clung to him, white knuckles stark against the dark fabric of his coat. He dropped down to her, holding her as close as he possibly could.

“I’m here, love. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Y/n’s voice strained through broken sobs, her words muffled in the fabric of his shirt. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” The mantra fell like a prayer from her lips.

“You’re alive.”

Suddenly it dawned on him. She thought he’d been inside. That he’d been killed. His stomach wrenched when he realized what she must have gone through.

“Oh God, baby, I’m so sorry.” He tightened his grip when she shuddered against him, and he brought a comforting hand to her head. “Shh. Oh, y/n. It’s alright, love. I’m here. It’s okay. I’m okay. I wasn’t home, it’s okay.”

One of the EMTs gestured to him. “Oi. You this Eggsy bloke she’s been on about?”

Eggsy looked up and nodded, y/n’s head still buried in the crook of his neck.

“You mind helpin’ me with her? Been completely mental since she woke up, tryin’ to get back in that bloody house an’ all. She needs to get to a hospital. She’s in shock.”

Eggsy lightly gripped y/n’s arms and pulled away to look her over. His chest seized when he noticed dark streaks of blood dripping down her temple. “What? Baby, you’re hurt. The hell were you thinking running out like that? We’re getting you to a hospital, okay?”

Her face twisted in sorrow. “But you were inside. They said nobody could’ve made it out alive. I couldn’t let them leave without trying to find you -- I wouldn’t just abandon you like that!”

Eggsy tightened his throat, fighting his own emotions. He would deal with them later. Right now he just needed her in that ambulance.

He rubbed his hand in soothing motions down her arm. “I know, love, I know. But I’m here now, yeah? You don’t have to wait anymore. Let the medics help you, sweetheart. They know what to do. Please, baby.”

She lowered her head back onto his shoulder, her energy fading with her adrenaline.

“Will you stay with me?” She whispered, exhausted.

Eggsy looked to the EMT for an answer.

“You can ride in the cab with her, but you can’t interfere, yeah? You’ll have to let us work.”

“Of course.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eggsy sat in the waiting room, anxiously watching the clock. Two hours, fourteen minutes, and thirty-seven seconds later, a doctor came to see him.

She looked around the waiting room. “Mr. Unwin?”

Eggsy practically shot out of his seat. “Is y/n okay? What happened to her?”

“Y/n will recover just fine, Mr. Unwin. As for what happened, we believe she was walking home when the explosion occurred.” She looked over her clipboard. “She’s suffered a concussion, bruised ribs, laceration to her temple…” she returned her gaze to his. “We’re going to keep her overnight for evaluation in case any complications occur, but you can rest assured, Mr. Unwin; she’s going to be alright.”

Eggsy nearly regretted asking when he heard y/n’s injuries, but the news that she would recover was a welcome relief. “Can I see her?”

“Yes. She needs a calm environment, so don’t do anything to make her excited, alright?”

Eggsy gave her a hurried noise of agreement as he made his way down the hall.

The doctor smiled, offering a friendly “She’s in room 3102, by the way!” before Eggsy was out of earshot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n was awake when he entered the room, gauze bandages wrapped near her hairline. She was sitting upright, seemingly calm compared to the state she was in when Eggsy last saw her, but her puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks didn’t go unnoticed.

He was at her bedside in an instant, all but crushing his lips to hers. He brought a careful hand to her face, wary of her injuries. She laid her hand over his and gave it a small squeeze.

He rested his forehead gently against hers when they parted, his eyes closed in relief. “Hi, baby. How you feeling?”

“I’m fine, bub. Just a little cut is all.”

Eggsy pulled away, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. Y/n didn’t let go of his hand. “Your bandages say different, sweetheart.”

She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I just can’t believe you’re here. You’re okay.”

His brow creased. “Of course it matters, y/n. Why didn’t you go with the EMTs when they told you to?” He tried to keep his voice calm, not wanting her to mistake his fear for anger. “What if your injuries had been worse, love?”

Y/n kept quiet, looking at their entwined hands.

Eggsy sighed. “I need to know that you’re okay, y/n. I need to know that even if I’m not, you will be.”

Her eyes tightened when she looked at him. Her voice lowered in what he thought may be anger, but he wasn’t sure.

“What do you mean, ‘even if you’re not?’” It sounded more like a command than a question.

He took a moment to choose his words, drawing a long breath through his nose. When his gaze returned to her his eyes were steeled. “This is going to sound ridiculous, but the tailor shop isn’t just a tailor shop. It's a front. I work for an organization much like MI6 called Kingsman.”

Y/n’s eyes narrowed, skeptical. “So you’re…an agent.”

“Yes. And I’m not going to lie to you about this, y/n. That missile was meant for me. I just happened to not be home, and I’m so glad you weren’t either. But this…” he shook his head, biting his lip, “this was too close. I can’t-- I won’t sacrifice your safety because of my job.”

“Eggsy, I swear to God if you even think about leaving me because of some macho bullshit like duty or honor I will--”

He cut her off with a dry laugh. “No, no, I’m not leaving. I would never leave you, love. But we’re going to have to live differently from now on. We’ll have to be more careful; set up some ground rules and safewords. But that’s selfish of me. I shouldn’t just-- I can’t presume to know what you want. That’s why I have to ask,” he lowered his head slightly, lips drawn and eyes careful, “would you rather live a normal life,” his voice quieted, “or stay with me?”

He was doing his best to remain stoic, y/n knew. But she didn’t miss the tension in his jaw, or the nearly imperceptible twitch in his brow. He was scared. Scared she’d choose normalcy over him.

As if.

“Is that even a question? Of course I’m staying with you, Eggsy.”

“And you know what you’re agreeing to? This life isn’t easy, love. This won’t be the last attack on--”

“I don’t care about that. I love you, you know. You and JB died in front of me today, as far as I knew.”

Eggsy winced. Y/n brought her free hand to his jaw, prompting him to meet her gaze. “But now you’ve come back to me. You’re here.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I’m spending the rest of my life with you, no matter what.”

She slid her hand behind his neck and pulled him to her, their lips crashing together once again. Eggsy’s tongue flicked across her lips which she parted eagerly. He brought his hands to her face, smoothing his thumbs over her tear-stained cheeks. Her breath hitched when he moved to kiss down her jaw to her neck, where he sucked on the tender skin. She whined when he pulled away, her lips unconsciously trailing after him.

He rested his head on her shoulder, breathless. “I know, ‘m sorry, love. But we can’t have you getting too worked up, yeah? Doctor’s orders.”

Y’n leaned back with a huff. “You’re such a fucking tease, Unwin. You know that?”

He laughed, pressing a sweet kiss to her shoulder. “You’re right, I’m the absolute worst. Just think of it as motivation to get better, yeah? We’ve got a wild ride ahead of us, love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[magniloquent-raven]

I love your trans-billy! I need more <3

AW OMG IM SO FLATTERED!! it was just a little vent fic tbh, but i have been wanting to write more trans billy because the fandom needs more of it, so here is a part two!

(read part one here)

(i do get into billy’s childhood a little bit in this part, so cw: child abuse mentions)

--

seems like billy's whole damn life is just a series of stupid choices and him dealing with the consequences of his own impulsiveness.

started young and never stopped. when he was six he chopped off all his hair in the school bathroom right before class photos. didn't even consider what would happen when he walked out of that room, he just felt wrong and wanted to fix it.

he had to walk around for months with a patchy hack-job because neil refused to pay to get it fixed. his mom said she'd try to make it better but billy wouldn't let her touch it. he was afraid she'd try to make him pretty again. undo all his hard work.

after that it was easier to sneak into groups of boys unnoticed, like the kids three streets down who were always playing basketball in the empty parking lot. they'd turned him away before, took one look at him and sneered that a girl couldn't keep up.

but after he put on a pair of too-big cargo shorts he stole off the neighbours clothes' line, and a t-shirt he'd hacked the sleeves off of, with his newly shorn hair all they did was make fun of him for looking poor. but they let him play.

months later, they hadn't caught on, even though his hair was growing out, and he wore the same clothes every time he saw them. he was starting to get nervous about being discovered.

what he didn't expect was neil discovering him first.

it was the first time his dad really hit him. more than just grabbing his arm, or shoving him a little. the first time he left scars.

he said if billy wanted to act like a boy, he'd get taught like one.

and life was a constant battle after that. even when he had his mother in his corner, it was usually a losing one. after she left there was barely any point in fighting at all, but he could never seem to stop entirely.

not when this was, according to his father's standards, what it takes to be a man.

but in trying to prove himself, he ended up in some fucked up places.

on the floor in his bedroom, his back torn open and the sharp crack of a belt ringing in his ears, still refusing to admit that tearing up the dress his nana made him wasn't an accident.

under the bleachers, blowing a guy who called him a dyke one too many times. then leaving him with his pants down and a broken nose 'cause he wouldn't stop trying for more than that.

waking up in a hospital bed, eighteen years old and wondering why he's still alive. being told it's a miracle. being told he was heroic. saved some little girl. got his name in the paper.

four months later taking a bus to chicago, picking out a new name on the way and never looking back.

and he might be living a whole new life here, but that doesn't mean he left all his stupid back in california.

it's been a week since he spent an afternoon half-conscious in steve's arms, and things have been disturbingly normal between them. steve hasn't asked any weird questions, or commented on billy being pathetic and needy, or acted like things have changed.

they haven't talked about any of it, and it's making billy nervous.

he's not sure what he thought would happen when he asked steve to hold him, to stay, he wasn't thinking at all, really, so now he's gotta deal with that.

problem is, he hasn't been dealing well. he's been dodging steve's calls. he's been jumpy, freezing up when steve comes anywhere near him.

which, he's come to notice, he does a lot. always sitting next to billy when they hang out in groups, always brushing past a little closer than necessary when he slips by him to leave the room.

and now. steve's insinuated himself into billy's evening, showing up unannounced with beer and a blindingly cheerful grin, sitting next thigh-to-thigh on the lumpy love-seat. and. billy's grinding his teeth. pretending to pay attention to the tv and not steve's warm leg pressed to his knee.

touching steve has always been a special kind of glorious agony, but now. now it's all that and week-old memories of soft lips brushing his forehead, remembering what it was like to wake up in his arms, feeling dizzy with warmth and want and...

steve's knee shifts, presses firmer against his, and billy can't take it anymore.

"alright, that's it!" he's on his feet, fists balled at his side, steve blinking up at him with his big dumb precious doe-eyes, and he trembles like an indignant cat. "the hell is up with you, harrington?" he snaps, pointing an accusing finger.

steve stares at him, mouth agape. "...um. nothing?" his cheeks are pink, and billy wants so badly to kiss him 'til he blushes everywhere.

he swallows hard, and crosses his arms. "c'mon, man, don't lie to me. it's been a week—" his voice falters, but he sets his jaw, tilts his chin like a challenge.

when he woke up that night, steve drooling on his shoulder, arm securely around his waist, he panicked. he shoved steve off of him, and they spent the next twenty minutes in tense, awkward silence while billy cleaned up and ignored steve. steve, who stayed, ordered a pizza, payed for it, and then left without eating a single slice.

and then.

nothing.

for a goddamn week. hanging out like nothing happened.

"i—" steve chokes on air, breaking eye-contact. "i mean. i didn't think you—" he's sinking in on himself, retreating into the couch, his gaze wandering the room listlessly. billy would feel bad if he wasn't so amped up on nervous energy, thrumming with adrenaline, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "i'm sorry."

billy blinks. "you're sorry."

"yeah?" steve glances at him, but only for a second before he ducks his head. he picks at his nails, frowning at his own hands in his lap. "i...i can go, i...sorry if i made things weird."

"if you...made things...weird," billy repeats, slowly. like it'll make any more sense coming from his own mouth.

it doesn't.

he deflates a little. steve looks up at him, expression pinched, bemused.

"are you just gonna repeat everything i say, or...?"

"harrington, i swear to god," billy grits out, "start making sense, or fuck off."

at least billy understands what's happening when guys sneer and leave after they find out the only dick they'll ever get from him is made of silicone. this clusterfuck is just...hurting his brain.

steve opens and closes his mouth soundlessly. "um..." he runs a restless hand through his hair. "i thought...you know...i got a little too, um. affectionate. last week. and you seemed so freaked out when you woke up, i...figured we could just, like, move on. act like nothing happened. 'cause it'd be easier?"

"what."

"but clearly that wasn't it—" he cuts himself off, and sags, groaning, head falling into his hands. "shit, i'm an idiot. billy, i'm so dumb, i'm so sorry. you were worried about how i'd react to. um." he pauses. gestures towards billy's crotch. "right?"

billy flushes. "i wasn't—can you stop pointing at it, jesus christ. i wasn't worried. i was just..." he trails off and bites his lip. shifts his weight around awkwardly. he's usually so much better at thinking on his feet, but fucking hell is he so off-balance right now. too thrown off to even come up with a little white lie.  

steve drops his hand, looking sheepish. "look, i...you never said anything, so i didn't mention it either. i'm not...it isn't any of my business if you don't want it to be."

"...do you want it to be?" billy's heart is in his mouth as he says it, pulse stuttering, tripping over itself.

"i—" steve's eyes widen. they stare at each other for a beat. the moment stretches, the drone of the tv in the background the only noise in the apartment. "are you asking what i think you're asking? because i don't want to assume and—" he trails off with a strangled noise when billy steps forward and climbs into his lap.

he's barely touching him, knees brushing his hips, sitting mid-thigh, keeping his hands to himself. but it still feels...intimate. steve's gaze heavy on him, inches away. knowing that if he put his hand on steve's chest he'd feel his heart racing.

"i'm asking," billy says quietly.

he sees this kiss coming and yet he still doesn't expect it. doesn't expect to be touched so softly, his face cradled like something precious. doesn't expect the way his stomach swoops, heart clenching, tense for a second before something warm blooms in his chest.

when he curls his fingers into the front of steve's shirt he does, in fact, feel his heart racing.

[bebepac]

Substitute Queen (Happy Birthday Queen Walton!)

This is a special edition of Fast Forward for my friend @queenwalton as she enjoys this series I've created a lot and it is her birthday! (Well a day early!)

I'm pretty sure you have been following along with me since I started writing on the fandom a little over a year ago. Thank you for your friendship and support. I hear from you after every chapter I post and I love it. Also thank you for being my trustworthy reader of infinite snippets. I hope you have an absolutely wonderful birthday my friend. 🥰🥰🥰🥰❤❤❤

A/N:  Thanks @dcbbw​ for bouncing some ideas around with me, and giving me a few to make this birthday fic even better.  Thank you girl.  

Summary:  Riley and Liam go on their first vacation alone since the events of Ellie’s kidnapping.  Maxwell and Taylor take care of all the children.  Maxwell throws a “Baby” Beaumont Bash.

Original Post Date: 03/24/21 at 11:55AM EST

The Book:  TRH and Beyond

Pairing: Liam x Riley  / Maxwell x Taylor 

Warnings:  None other than hilarious fluff

Word Count: 2425

Song inspiration for this chapter: Baby Shark (Trap Music Remix) 

I don’t own rights to this hilarious music.  

Liam saw Riley standing  in the study with her back turned to him.  The King of Cordonia shifted seamlessly into stealth mode as he crept silently into the study, surprising his Queen by pouncing on her like a lion, grabbing her and slipping his arms around her waist, and sensually planting a soft kiss to the sensitive skin on her neck.  He gently rubbed himself against her.  

“Take a break for a little while my love.”

He felt her body tense up.

“EEEWWWWW GROSS!!! NOT YOUR WIFE!!!  OOOOH GOD!!!!!!! NOT YOUR WIFE!!! PUT THAT THING AWAY!!!!!!  YOU HAVE FOUR KIDS!?!?!?!?!?  AREN’T YOU GUYS TIRED OF DOING THAT?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?”

Liam quickly recoiled from her.   Liam looked genuinely horrified when she turned to face him.

“I’m so sorry Taylor.  From behind, I swear I couldn’t…I mean I didn’t…..”  

“Bleh!!!! Don’t finish that sentence!!!!!!

Riley walked in the room seeing Taylor and Liam visibly uncomfortable.

“What did I miss?”  

“I need a bath!!!  Your husband thought I was you.  Apparently we look the same from behind.”  

Riley glanced at Taylor.  “I mean…. He’s really not completely wrong Tay.  Now that you had the twins, we really do.”  

Taylor scowled.  

“And that right there is why no one will mistake us for each other from the front.  Your scowl face.”

“Well this is a sufficiently awkward conversation, so I’m going to go, especially after I’ve completely embarrassed myself. Riley when you’re finished, please come by my study.”  Liam still had a flush on his cheeks and ears.

“For real, put that thing away Liam, it’s barely lunch time.”  Taylor grumbled.

“I will be there.”  She winked at him.  

Liam’s smile returned.  

“Can one of you keep it in your pants please?  You two are like horny teenagers.”  

“I’m okay with that.”  They both said in unison smiling at each other.  Liam left the room.

“Are you going away for your wedding anniversary?”

“We probably should, but we have our date nights, and we can always sneak some time alone now that the kids are a little older, now that everyone is potty trained and not on the boob anymore.  God I missed my boobs being mine, and now that they are again, of course they look like a dumpster fire after breastfeeding four kids.”  

“Well that’s one hell of a bra then.”

“Who are you telling? They would be dragging the floor otherwise.”

Taylor laughed.  

“Please don’t do that visual to our body.”

“It is our body right?”  

Riley and Taylor giggled.  

“You two should go away alone.  You two never get adult time… And I don’t mean just for that.  You two apparently get more than enough adult time for that.” 

“Tay, it’s just that we haven’t really been away from the kids.  Anywhere we go, we travel as a family.  I feel safer that way, so does Liam.”  

“Because of me right?”  

“Tay….”

“It is.  The last time you two tried to go on vacation was when I took Ellie, and you haven’t been apart from them a day since.  It’s my fault you two are afraid to be away from your children."

“Taylor, Liam and I have forgiven you for that, a long time ago.  We know that you’re not the same person you once were.”

“Prove it, you two take a trip, and it’s a trip you two desperately deserve. I promise the palace will be still standing when you get back.”

Taylor smiled at Riley.

“Please let me do this for the two of you. It’s been one thing after another, and you guys deserve a vacation. Let me and Max take care of the kids.”

“Tay… you do realize that would be your two barely crawling plus my four.  You two would be taking care of six children.”  

“And your kids are pretty self sufficient.  They can feed themselves.”  

“You’ll need some reinforcements, Tay. For real.  I’ll call Drake and Hana to help.”  

“I really think Max and I can handle it.”

“Tay…”  

“Riley, we got this.”

*^*^*^*^* Taylor and Maxwell *^*^*^*^*

“You volunteered us for WHAT?!?!?!?!?”

“Oh come on Max, they’re just kids.”

“Yeah, and we’ve been lucky to keep the two of ours alive so far.  We’re going to be outnumbered Softie. There’s going to be six of them and two of us. You have put them at an unfair advantage.”  

Taylor laughed.

“This is not a war Maxwell.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a war.”

A week later,  Riley and Liam were preparing to leave for their first vacation alone, since they had children.  

Riley kissed and hugged each child.

“Now you kids behave for Auntie Taylor and Uncle Maxwell.  I’m counting on you Miss Crown Princess for a report when I return. You know you’re first in command Ellie.”

Ellie stood up straight and squared her shoulders.  “I promise Daddy, we’ll all be good.”

Ellie gave a little salute.

Liam gave one back.

“As you were, my princess.”

Riley, still kneeling, smoothed down Liberty’s little curls.  Her little lip was already trembling.  

“Mommy loves you baby.”  She kissed her little cheeks.  

“Are you ready to leave My Love?”  

Riley stood up nodding.   Liam reached out her hand for hers.  

They started to walk towards the SUV.  

“Mama.”  

Liam felt Riley stop.  

“It’s okay My Love we can do this.”  

Riley’s eyes were quickly filling with tears.

Riley resumed her stride.

“Dada?”

The little inflection of a question in Liberty’s voice made Liam stop dead in his tracks. His grip tightening on Riley’s hand.  Liam took a deep shaky breath.

"Don't look back Liam, you know we won't leave if we do."

Bastien and Nico could see how the King and Queen were struggling to leave their children.

“Your Majesties, come this way.”  Bastien called out to them gently.

Both the King and Queen were in tears hearing their youngest burst into tears at the sight of them leaving, as they climbed into  the black SUV.

“It’s okay.  They’ll be fine Riley. They have reinforcements.”

“Taylor wouldn’t let me call Drake or Hana.”  

Liam hit a button on his phone. He put the phone on speaker.

“What’s your location?”  

“Already inside the palace.”  

“Olivia?”  

“And you fully understand the plan?”

“Let your tiny humans drive Taylor and Maxwell insane?”

“NO!!!!”

“I know the plan Liam! Not be seen and keep a watch on them, and only appear if they need help with the children. “

“Yes. Thank you Liv.”  

“I do this because we’re friends Riley.”  

“Liberty has a set of lungs on her, she hasn’t stopped crying since you two left.  I’m sure she’ll be fine.”  

“Thank you Liv.”  

“They’ll be fine, i’ll be watching. Enjoy your vacation already.”  

“Where are we headed? Since you wouldn’t disclose a location to me, I literally packed for everything including plagues and fire rain.”  

“For some fun in the sun on our own private beach.”

“Good thing I packed a bathing suit.”  

“You won’t be needing it.”  

Riley smacked Liam’s arm as he waggled his eyebrows at her.

*^*^*^*^*^* Meanwhile back at the Palace *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

“C’mon Libby it’s okay.   Mommy and Daddy will be back.”  

Taylor picked her up, rocking her in her arms.  

“Shhhhhh… it’s okay Libby.   Auntie Taylor is here, so is Uncle Max.”

Libby’s cries subsided a little but not significantly.

“Can I try?”  Ellie asked.

Ellie crossed her eyes and made a funny face at Libby causing her to break out into a fit of giggles.  

“We’re evening out the odds.  Three on three, I like those odds better Taylor.  We might actually survive this. They will listen to one of their own.  Ellie is like our super agent spy.”

By the end of day one both Taylor and Maxwell were exhausted, tending to and chasing around six children.  At least their two were relatively easy to catch, as they were barely mobile.

“Why did I think the children being self-sufficient was going to be a good thing?  I’ve never been this tired in my life.”  

“Is this what we have to look forward to when they’re older?”  

"Seems like it."

^*^*^*^* Liam and Riley *^*^*^*

“My Love?”  

“Yes Dear?”  

“You don’t have to cut up my food for me.”  

Riley had absentmindedly cut up Liam’s chicken into very small child bite size pieces. She had also ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead.

“Oh!  I didn’t even realize.”

Liam smiled at her, running his fingers through his hair.  “We’ve been parents for so long, it’s been a long time since you and I have been truly alone.”  

“You know what I want to do after dinner?” Riley inquired.

Liam raised his eyebrow with an intrigued smirk.  

“I think I might have an idea of exactly what you want to do.”  

Liam and Riley went to sleep after dinner.  Both stretched out in the bed.  Both had covers, and no kids arms, legs, feet, or hair  in their face.

Every night was like that Liam and Riley got the most sleep they had, had in years…. Well after other adult activities. Liam had even turned off his alarm living in the moment with Riley.

*^*^* Baby Beaumont Bash *^*^*^*

Taylor was feeding the girls when she heard loud thumping music. Taylor could hear jingling. Taylor glanced up, seeing the chandelier above her head was thumping to the beat of the music. Thank goodness the twins were used to Maxwell's antics, and Lily and Violet were sleeping right through it. She put Violet back in the crib and walked down the hall. The closer she got to the east wing ballroom the music got louder.

Taylor pulled the doors open to the ballroom, smoke bubbled down the hall.

There were multi colored blinking lights, a disco ball spinning from the ceiling and a snack table full of candy, sweets and soda.

Maxwell had a DJ station set up  playing a song on an endless loop, bobbing his head to the music with his headphones on.

And Riley's kids hopped up on kiddie cocaine (aka sugar) dancing and flailing around in what Taylor could only think to describe as a kiddie rave.

"Is that….. a trap remix of baby shark?"

"Heck yeah it is."

And the kids were loving it.

Maxwell let the music keep playing and he had a bottle of champagne in one hand calling Ellie and Adam over to him. He had a sword in his right.

"Adam you hold the bottle."

"You are not giving them champagne Maxwell! They're children!"

"I'm shocked at you Softie. What kind of Uncle do you think I am? It's just sparkling apple cider. Okay Ellie, you get the sword because you're the oldest. And what you want to do is slice just like I'm showing you. Oh, and don't kill your brother, that would be bad."

"I don't think Daddy would let us do this Uncle Maxwell." Ellie said wearily.

"Heck no he wouldn't.  Well not with Maxwell teaching you. If anyone is going to teach the crown princess to slice anything while someone else is holding it, it's going to be me."

Olivia appeared walking out of the shadows of an alcove.

"Have you been here the whole week?"

"Of course! You know Liam and Riley. And these kids are never going to fall asleep, if we don't have them dance the sugar out."

"I've got just the thing.”

 Max cranked up the music.

*^*^*^*^* Liam and Riley *^*^*^*^*

"Liam I miss them."

"We'll be home to see them by noon tomorrow."

"Liam I know you miss them too, log into Crown Cam, so we can see them."

Riley sat next to Liam as he logged into Crown Cam.

As they went to each room they noticed none of the children were in their beds.

"It's past their bedtime."

"Did you really think Max and Taylor would get all kids to bed on time?"

"No but…."

They clicked on each room, until they got to the ballroom on the east wing.

Both gasped at the scene. Liam clicked the button enabling the cameras to pick up sound in the room.

Both looked at each other, seeing their kids wildly dancing and flailing about. Libby was excitedly jumping up and down with a glow stick while Olivia sang on stage.

"Is Olivia really singing and rapping to Let It Go?!?"

Olivia's Rap

Liam nodded, watching the scene for a few more moments before slowly closing his laptop.

"I'm sure there is a perfectly good explanation for all of this."

*^*^*^*^*^* kiddie rave *^*^*^*^*

Taylor danced with the kids while Max continued at his DJ station.

"Olivia can flow, can you believe it Max?!?"

"OLIVIA!!!!! LANGUAGE!!!!!!! THEY'RE CHILDREN!!!!" Maxwell screamed.

"Are you serious with me right now?!? Language?"

Olivia rolled her eyes in complete annoyance.

"Of all the things you've done, LANGUAGE is your hard stop? You gave the crown princess a SWORD to slice a bottle out of her younger brother's hands, and instructed her not to kill him. That's entirely okay, but CURSING is where you draw the line in the sand? Seriously Maxwell?"

Both Taylor and Olivia glared at Maxwell for a few moments in confusion.

"Liv keep going!!! We have to tire them out!!!"

Olivia resumed her rap battle….with herself.

Within an hour it looked like a crime scene in the ballroom. Children were passed out everywhere.  

Taylor picked up a sleeping Ellie, Olivia, grabbed Adam, and Maxwell carried Jaiden and Liberty upstairs to their beds.  

"They need baths, their faces and hands are dirty with crumbs and sweets."

"We'll give them baths in the morning, before Liam and Riley get back." Maxwell was confident they could get it done.

They didn't. They all slept in instead.

When Liam and Riley arrived back at the palace, they didn't know what to expect.

They saw their kids, all lined up wearing yesterday's clothes, dirty faces, and wild chaotic hair, looking like they had their own kiddie walks of shame.  But each child had a huge smile on their face.

Liam walked up to Ellie.

"Your report my Crown Princess?"

"Daddy! I sliced a bottle top off a bottle while Adam held it."

"And I didn't die!" Adam screamed confidently.

"We had fun!" Jaiden exclaimed.

"Daddy did you know Auntie Liv is a gangsta rapper?" Ellie's voice sounded like she was in complete awe.

"Yes My Princess, we saw."

Olivia turned pale, then she knowingly nodded. "I should have known you two would access Crown Cam."

Riley turned to Maxwell.

"So you threw a Beaumont Bash…. for our children?"  Riley asked.

"Of course, gotta train them up right!! Little Blossom!"

"Sure, they're a little dirty, but at least the palace is still standing, what else would you expect from the Substitute Queen?" Taylor commented with a smirk.

Happy birthday! I hope you enjoyed this!

Tagging the comments

[withoneheadlight]

life has been a bit crazy for me so I haven’t been around but I’m glad to see that the upside down kiss fic is circulating back around bc it lives rent free in my mind constantly and I am whORE KNEE 😩

nsfw! anon

(I hope you’ve seen well I miss u :((( )

NSFW!ANON I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU I MISS YOUUUUUU!!!!! Holy shit this is the nicest surprise!!!!!! 💖💖💖🌟💖🌟💖🌟💖🌟💖 Wish your life were at least a bit less crazy :(. Mine's been a bit crazy too. Weird and busy. Haven't been letting me much time for fandom and i miss it so, SO FUCKING much. 

And <3<3<3, haha yep! i’ve got a soft spot for that fic too bc i had so much fun writing it, and it’s even funnier on my mind idk xD. i’m so happy people likes it. Those gifs are like a harringrove inspiration charm i swear! Maybe you’ve already seen it but @warheadache added this amazing ar to it and 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉.

also!! i know it doesn’t look like it but i’ve got a couple things for you on the works and i’m closer to finish them!! at my snail pace but yk, 

a few excerpts bc i want to give them to you so baaaaaadddDDDDDD:

(I'm sure you'll recognize the working titles :P)

| n s f w ahead |

~

| boots |

And it’s been more than three years. More than three years of holes on his body and holes on his veins and stitches and tubes and pills and pain under every scar and unsteady steps and pulling together a pile of dirty rubble. More than one of Steve, Steve, Steve. Of coming back in busts and flickers. Enough gasoline left to light a spark. Too empty still to start a fire.

Except―

He’s going through his old stuff, one day. Cold outside. Late January. Chill fogging the windows. Daylight pouring to the edges of the sky like red-hot steel on the other side.

Billy’s on the floor. The contents of the two plastic bags collecting dust at the bottom of his closet since he moved in here now scattered all around. Cassettes and crumpled papers and tampered books and stupid memorabilia and. His old tight jeans. His leather jackets. His light-blue denim one, with the blood-red goodbye kiss of somebody whose cheek he remembers touching, whose face he can’t remember anymore.

And Billy doesn’t hear him coming, but one moment he’s not, the next Steve’s crouching by his side, leaning against him, too lightly for it to be in need of balance.

“God, Hargrove” he huffs, picks Billy’s favorite shirt out of the pile “Am I remembering this one right?”

Billy bites in a smile. Swallows down some bitterness.

“You are”

Steve nods, mouth twisting into a grin, a brow rising. Glances down at what Billy’s holding (on to) between his hands.

“And oooh. Those boots”

Still dirty. More dark brownish than black. One of the few things he got back from the hospital. His pendant being the only one he ever put back on.

“Yeah”

“Thinking ‘bout using any of these again?” Steve gives the shirt a light shake, the dark-red fabric dragging on the wooden floor.

Last time Billy wore it, he burned hole in it. A stray ember fell from his joint, right under the left pocket. Tiny enough to pass mostly unseen but―

For a closer look, it was ruined.

Two days later, the Mind-Flyer dragged him into the basement of Brimborn Steel Works.

Billy digs his fingers into the dry leather before they can start shaking.

“I don’t―” Takes in a big gulp of air “―know. Don’t know if they’ll fit anymore” It feels like nothing.

Because, he doesn’t mean only his body. Means it all. Because he’s alivealivealive, like some kind of inevitability. Alive like a form of inertia.

Alive because that’s all he had left. Got’s left. The only thing he could. Can. Do.

But,

But

“Uhmm” Steve exhales. Looks right into his eyes and it feels like he’s looking deeper. And it’s not the first time, not the first time Billy wonders, how much he knows, and how he knows it. Wonders what he might be seeing, what his instinct might be saying for him to―lower down his voice, eat away almost every single one of the scarce millimeters keeping their mouths from touching “Maybe the boots, then” his hair tickling Billy as it falls over his forehead, the feeling of it so intimate it seems illicit “Only, the boots”.

And those words. Those words. Taste like gasoline on Billy’s mouth, make the flame almost catch. Hot. As they feel over the rabbiting pulse of his jugular. Ad there shouldn’t be any empty space left between them when Steve moves even closer, his lips brushing a path of raw tenderness over Billy’s cheek, trailing sideways, air turning flammable and unstable, unbreathable when he says, “You’d look―” Voice hoarse. Shaky. Breath warm down the curve of Billy’s neck. Fingertips burning as a branding mark over his solar plexus “Hot as fuck”

Trading a grenade for Billy’s fast-beating heart.

And then― he’s getting up. Going away. Closing the door behind him. Leaving Billy one pull away from the detonation.

And Billy.

It’s been more than year since he moved. More than a year of SteveSteveSteve. Of coming back in busts and flickers. Enough gasoline left to light a spark. Too empty still to start a fire.

But Billy wants it, this kind of inevitability. Not inertia. No survival. Not that something living doesn’t really feels like. He wants Steve to release that bomb he just dropped inside of his body. Left Billy unmade. Shape him back together with his own two hands.

So he gets up. Wired-up and breathless. Anticipation beading on the surface of his skin. Thinks about of all those times alive felt like something reachable. That almost-touch sensation. Static singing on his fingertips: loving arms closing around his ocean-cold skin. The rumbling of the sea caught up on the shell of his ribcage. Max's crazy laugh like a hammer to his bones. The Camaro cooking the soles of his feet, speed making his head spin through a wormhole and out into the infinite. His knuckles cracking against the skin of another, finding bone. The metallic tang of blood flooding down the back of his tongue.

Love and fire and rage and―

He takes all his clothes off. They don’t feel like they fit, either. Socks. Sweats. Hoodie. T-Shirt. Takes a deep breath when the pendant bumps against the naked skin of his chest.

Puts his boots on.

Does the only thing he’s ever known.

“Steve!” he shouts. Pulse spiking up fast. Trying to beat a way out of his body “Can you come back in here?”

Skyrocketing, when Steve shouts back.

“Going!”

And then is the door clicking open. Billy’s lungs freezing in the middle of a breath. Steve’s eyes looking almost black as they catch the shadows. Sun falling down the reality of the other side.

And in a darkness like that, it’s only them what remains. Them, and the way they are looking at each other.

And Billy feels alive. Like falling. Feet slippin’ on the razor’s edge.

"Billy" breathes out Steve. Shoulder perched on the frame. Fingers tightening around the handle "Fuck, Billy I―"

“Yeah?”

Alive. Like a form of gravity when―

Steve comes forward. To him. Careful. Careful. Footsteps creaking on the wooden floor. Lashes falling down as his eyes drift. Swallows. Comes closer and closer still.

And then.

Their chest are brushing and their hands are almost touching and it's not even an inch but Billy has to look up even with his stupid boots on and,

“You said―”

Steve breathes in. Cuts Billy’s breath off his lungs.

Between them, there’s no room for anything that’s not the way they’re not touching.

“I know what I said”

The air, sparks, sizzles, becomes the memory of a thunderstorm and. The tips of Steve’s fingers make his hairs stand on end. High voltage. Spark over the inside of his wrist. The faded blue of his veins. And Billy shivers. Feels like that second of stasis before the rupture. Static calm and then― the ocean breaks.

And then Steve says,

“I wanna see it. That fire in you” and his fingers tickle across the hidden tenderness on the inside Billy’s elbow. Nails grazing their way up to his shoulder, detouring to contour the crest of his clavicle, slide down the trough, spreading as they follow the shape of Billy’s neck, thumb fitting into the corner of his lips and “C’mon.” smiling, smiling. Eyes creasing at the sides, lashes catching the few last strings of light. Wicked and sweet and devastating “Show me who’s that Billy Hargrove everybody's been telling me so much about”

~

| stick | tw: object insertion |

It’s thrilling, this secret, depraved game they play. Feels like it's forbidden. Leaves a sweet, honey-thick aftertaste.

And Billy is so. So curious. Can’t stop asking Steve to tell him “How it feels babe. I want to know how good it feels. God you look like it's hitting you just right” and Steve tells him. Steve fucks himself down into whatever thing Billy is holding for him, never touching himself until he’s almost there, wanting to ride that sole sensation right up until the very end. Shivering. Shaking. Breaking a sweat. The words coming ragged out of his open mouth. “Cold” or “Weird” or “Like. Too much–ah. Too much” and “Soft, God, Billy so soft” and–

“Why don’t you try it yourself?”

And Billy its so, so curious.

Billy does.

Rails himself for Steve to watch, slicked up with lube and dripping. With a rolling pin. A cucumber. Almost a whole box of wooden colored pencils, stuffed inside his ass one by one. With “ohgodgodgod”  the handle of Steve’s fucking nailed bat. Lets Steve holds whatever thing he chooses for him “C’mon, babe. C’mon. Treat it good. Swallow it as deep as you can. Take it like you would take my cock”

And life in Hawkins gets boring after the first, second, fourth, seventh yearly round. Steve takes that office work. Billy gets a permanent spot in the garage. If he gets real lucky, somebody takes him an interesting car from time to time. But sometimes Steve looks at Billy with dark, liquid eyes. Says “Ok enough”. His voice harsh. Rasped. Losing balance at the edge of what he’s able to restrain himself. Sounding as if he’s jealous of those things jamming the insides if Billy’s ass. Takes out Billy’s been writhing around. Fucks him hard. Fuck him deep. Fucks him so good there are tears in Billy’s eyes by the time he comes. Fallen apart and sobbing.

&

Steve’s driving. One hand on the wheel. One hand on the shift. The cool air of the night coming in shorts through the rolled-down window. On the radio, Ted Nugent’s making his guitar whine, the strings arching into the touch of his fingertips, asking for more more more, ‘Here I come again now baby. Like a dog in heat’

Steve’s long fingers flex over the knob, winter-cold white under reddened knuckles. He shifts from third to fourth with a smooth press and lets go of the clutch, and the Camaro sighs, settles. Steve makes her calm. Steve tames her. Where Billy makes her growl and kick Steve drives her like a lover, whispers to her with all his body I’m gonna fuck you so slow. We got all night, baby. Steve treats her right. Runs those fingers up and down the metallic rod of the shift and Billy gets hard. One second from zero to sixty.

His cock pulses, pulses. Fills up whole. The sudden rush of heat traveling up, up. Presses against the walls of his throat. Billy wants to feel the head of Steve’s cock against his bell. Wants Steve to make him choke on him.

Steve brakes. Clutches. Reduces. The Camaro moans, needy. Steve soothes her, caresses it with a soft brush of his thumb along the speed patter Shh, baby sshhh. Just hold a little bit longer. I promise I will let you come.

Billy feels himself twitch, spit out precum. The inside of his pants feels damp, appetizing. He lets his hips slide, rock.

The knob is real leather. Silver pattern ingrained over black. Seams carefully sew out on the surface as a touch of style.

Billy replaced it a few months ago, the old one too damaged by use. Worn out.

This one curves slightly forward.

It would hit just right.

Steve's eyes are alight, framed in the light reflected from the rearview mirror, a dramatic take out of an old Noir.

Except the brown shines full color. Alive.

Billy puts his hand over Steve’s on the knob, spreads his fingers around his.

Grips him hard.

“Hey, babe. Have you ever thought about it?”

“Mmm? About what?”

“About riding my car”

Steve huffs. Chuckles.

“I am driving your car”

“Yeah” Billy caresses the side of Steve’s hand with his thumb, a lagged reflection of his gesture. Thinks about how pretty Steve’s lips would look around that leather, mouth open wide “Don’t mean it like that”

&

Billy has to take a deep, shaky breath, thinking it's a miracle they ever get as far as they plan, that Steve Harrington's mere existence doesn't make him come just by looking at him.

Not all their games get to the finish line. But this, God, Billy wants this one to.

"Ah-ah" he shakes his head, smirks, keeps the stakes high "But if you hop on I'll let you eat my mouth"

“Mmmm. I don’t know”

Steve twists his lips, considering, looks like he’s willing to take his sweet time deciding, staying just like this, idly rocking on his lap, keeping Billy hooked in this scarce feeling, this almost kissing between their cocks.

And Billy––Uff. Billy it’s too revved-up, can’t take it any fucking second more.

Grabs Steve’s asscheeks. Lifts him up.

“Billy what the—ohfuck” It doesn't go in. ‘Course it doesn’t. When Billy lets Steve’s weight drop just a slight bit. It bumps. Slips. Wet and obscene. Rips a breathless thing of a sound out of his throat. But then Steve’s arms wrap around his neck. Bracing himself so Billy can take a hold of it, line himself up. And then yeah yeah. He barely has to rub the head against Steve’s slippery hole and his cock slides in. Eaaasy. All the way. Into Steve’s warmth. Tight. Tight. Tight. And–

“Ohfuck. OhfuckOh”

The air coming in from the window is cool, bristling, but it feels like nothing when Steve lets out a chocked cry. Fucks himself. Fast. Rough. Face buried into the crook of Billy’s neck. Breath blooming hot, hot. Teeth on his pulse.

“Shhhh, baby, shhh” Billy takes his face between his hands, pushes him carefully backwards. Waits ‘till Steve’s eyes slowly find focus on his, still rocking, still― “Hey. You gotta stop. You hear me?” Steve takes a deep breath, exhales long and shaky. It takes all of him to slow down, Billy knows, but he does. Thighs twitching. Cock weeping. Smearing over Billy’s belly where his t-shit has hitched up.

Billy brushes his hair back from his forehead. Tangled and damp and gorgeous.

Kisses him light and sweet.

“We’re close, baby. We’re really, really close. But you gotta stop so I can open you up real good ok?”

Steve nods, eyes glossy, lips bitten and Billy feels overwhelmed, feels like burning under the hard sun. They’re both hanging by the thinnest of threads, Billy can feel it, can see it in the blown-out dark of Steve’s eyes. They’re riding pleasure at point break, time holding its breath for them. This is his favorite part of the game. A little too much, just a little too much. ‘Till one of them loses it. ‘Till one of them melts on the other’s hands. Hard and thick.

And God, Billy has never been one not to push his luck.

He takes two fingers up to Steve’s lips, runs the tips over the tender skin inside. Thinks about how they don’t look bitten enough, swollen enough. About how he’s gonna have to fix that.

“I’m gonna put these two inside. Will you get them ready for me?” Steve’s Smile twitches up, canines showing. It’s a two-men-con. But they play as much against the other as they play together. So Steve swallows both fingers. All the way in one go. Eyes falling shut. Eats them wet and messy. Deepthroats. Rumbles. Ass clenching, pulsing around Billy’s cock. And Billy is only a short breath of self-control away from spending himself inside him like a fucking rookie.

It’s boring, small-town life, really. Except–

“Good boy,” he says, making his fingers pop out of Steve’s mouth, satisfaction tastier than honey at the mean glare it grants him. But it softens, that glare, Steve’s eyelids flutter, open-mouthed and blissed, when Billy brushes the head of his cock with his knuckles, haft teasing, half relieving, keeping Steve in the tightrope with him.

“I’m getting a bit impatient in here, Hargrove” he says, only managing to make his voice sound half annoyed about it. Bit Billy is too, impatient. So drags his fingers down, pads tracing the taut shape of Steve’s cock, his balls, and down. Presses. Softly. Rubs the stretched-out flesh of his hole. Dips just the tips. Press. Press. And–

“AhfuckBilly–Ah.Mmmmh”

It’s tight. Steve’s ass clenches around him, squeezes him in. It’s a heady feeling, having him like this, senses overrunning. He’s intoxicated. High on the painful scratch of Steve’s nails when he grabs his jaw to kiss him open-mouthed and harsh. The helpless way he chokes off a sob when Billy makes his fingers curl, rubs him good and,

“I’m ready, Billy. I’m ready. BillyBillyplease. I can’t take it anymore. Please, baby. I’m ready” he’s gasping, breathless, barely taking in the heated up air they share.

“Hey. C’mon. C’mon. Just a little more, ok?. A little more and I’ll let you swallow it all in. That knob. All the way down your ass. No space left for anything else" he licks the words all along Steve’s neck, his ear. Rubs his lips over the damp roots of his hair. Cock pushing. Fingers working. When Steve sits on the stick. Billy wants him right over the edge “Gonna cum so hard you’re gonna be begging me to let you ride her again”

~

yup! hope you like them! i really really REALLY want to finish them for you.

Fingers crossed I get to see you again soon my dear nsfw!anon 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

[iliumheightnights]

Remembrance | Robb Stark x Male Reader

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Pairing: Robb Stark x Male Reader

Summary: (M/N) finds Robb alive after thinking he was dead. 

A.K.A, an alternate universe where Robb survives the red wedding somehow.

…

“King Robb and Lady Catelyn are dead! Killed by the Frey’s at the twins!”

(M/N) stopped as he heard those words. Not just two days had passed since he had left his love to deal with Theon. He had been worried about leaving Robb, but the man assured him he would be okay. He should have trusted his instinct. Now Robb was dead and he wasn’t there to protect him...at the least to die with him.

When they arrived at Winterfell they found that the ironborn had all been killed or captured and the Boltons now held it as their keep. (M/N) couldn’t believe it, there was practically nothing left for the Starks. He knew that if he tried to retake Winterfell he and his forces would die. He ordered his forces to fall back and then disbanded the war party. “Return to your keeps, swear loyalty to the Boltons,when I find Bran,Rickon, Arya or Sansa...be prepared to retake Winterfell.”

…

It had been months since the events of the red wedding happened. (M/N) was haunted by the visions of Robb. He couldn’t remember if he told him that he loved him before he had left. That was the part that (M/N) worried about the most. He didn’t want the last thing he said to Robb to be awful or an argument.

It was a common occurrence for him to see Robb in his dreams whenever he went to sleep. Robb would be standing there like any other day and smile at him with that stupid grin. (M/N) would try to get to him but before he could reach him Robb would look like he had just been stabbed and would fall just out of (M/N)’s reach. And those were the good nights.

Sometimes when he would be travelling he would believe that he had seen his lover standing in the treeline, or sometimes he would think he was among the crowd of people. It was never true. He couldn’t seem to get it through his head that Robb was gone, the king of the north was dead. He thought about what Robb would say if he could see him now. He’d laugh at him for being so weak, for not being able to move on. 

No. Robb wouldn’t think that at all. Robb would apologize for worrying him, apologize for leaving so soon. He would tell him how much he loved him and how they’d meet again. (M/N) knew that's what Robb would really say. He saw how broken his love was after his father was killed in kings landing, he’d never judge (M/N) for grieving.

Sometimes (M/N) hated the fact that he was alive. Why was he still breathing when Robb and most of the Starks were dead or missing? Missing. He had to find the Stark kids, that’s the least he could do for Robb, Ned and Catelyn. So that became his next mission, he knew that Sansa was being held by the lannisters. Bran had been at Winterfell with Rickon if anything Osha and Hodor would protect them both. Arya was what concerned (M/N), the lannisters said they had her...but he knew they were lying. Arya couldn’t be captured by anyone.

So that’s what (M/N) had been doing now. Searching for the lost Stark Girl. He had looked everywhere, From king's landing to even casterly rock. Everywhere he looked he didn’t find her. His search finally brought him to one place he was hoping to avoid. The Twins. Of course, he couldn’t just go around asking for a missing Stark. They’d have his head before he even thought of escape. His best chance of finding out if she was here would be to sneak into the dungeons.

Sneaking into the dungeons was no easy feat, for some people. For (M/N) all he had to do was kill a guard and take their uniform. Maybe it wouldn’t work for say the Lannisters, but for the Frey’s they were too stuck up to truly notice that he didn’t belong. He approached the dungeon and spoke to the guard. “You lucky Bastard. Lord Frey says you get to go have fun with the others, I get stuck guarding the pigs tonight.” The guard laughed and handed him the keys before he started walking away. “Sucks for you! Imma go find a nice woman to bed.” (M/N) rolled his eyes and waited for the guard’s footsteps to quiet. Once the coast was clear, he turned and entered the dungeon.

The cells were mostly empty, probably because Walder Frey liked to execute his prisoners rather than waste food on them. The few cages that did have prisoners looked like they had been there for a while, but no sign of Arya so far. Then (M/N) caught his breath as he took in the sight of someone he didn’t think he’d see ever again. “No...it can’t be. Robb?” He stepped closer to the cell and the man inside looked up. The man’s eyes widened and quickly stood up rushing to him. “(M/N)! By the gods what are you doing here?” (M/N) felt Robb’s hands grab his own on the bars. He actually felt him. He was real, he was alive. He looked exactly like he had, but with more messy hair and beard. “How are you...nevermind. Let’s get you out of here.” (M/N) quickly unlocked the cell and was engulfed in a hug by Robb. “Oh gods...It’s so good to see you. I thought I’d never see you again.” (M/N) hugged him back but quickly let go. “I thought the same, we’ll talk later but now we have to go. Here.” He handed Robb a cloak from the wall. Must have been left by another guard. The man quickly put it on. “So what’s the plan?” Robb asked. “You follow my lead.” He gripped Robb’s shoulder and began walking out of the keep. (M/N) quickly checked the hallway and was glad to see it still empty. “We’ll go through the secret entrance. That’s how I got in here.” Getting out of the Twins was surprisingly just as easy as getting in. They never expected someone to come and steal the king in the north.

(M/N) and Robb made it back to where (M/N) had left his horse. “Okay you’re up first, we need to go.” (M/N) quickly undressed from the Frey uniform and got back into his regular outfit. He grinned as he caught Robb watching him. He helped Robb onto the horse and followed soon after. “Okay let’s get out of here before they realize you’re missing.” (M/N) wrapped his arms around Robb’s body and grabbed the reins. The two booked it as far from the Twins and the Freys as they could.

As they rode it seemed to be too quiet. “What happened to you? I thought you were dead?” Robb stiffed a bit. “I thought I was. I had been shot multiple times and stabbed, but somehow...not enough to kill me. Walder Frey wanted to use me as a hostage in case the North retaliated...but I can see that isn’t going to happen anytime soon.” (M/N) let out a huffed, forced laugh. “North’s in a large civil war right now. No one’s saving anyone anytime soon dear...I heard they sewed Grey wind’s head onto your body. I’m guessing it was some other poor sap?” Robb nodded. It got quiet again. “I’m sorry about your mom Robb. She was a strong woman and I’m sure she’s watching over you with your father right now.” Robb didn’t say anything but leaned back into (M/N). They were quiet the rest of the ride.

They rode on for another day and only stopped to rest when they were sure they were far enough not to be followed. They arrived at an old hut, it seemed to be worn down by the weather. “Here, this looks abandoned. We can rest in here for the night.” (M/N) jumped off the horse and helped Robb down. “I’m fine, I’m fine. You don’t need to coddle me.” (M/N) tied up the horse. “Oh I think I do. I thought you were dead for months. I don’t want you out of my sight again.”

The inside of the hut was at least still stable. The roof didn’t look like it was about to collapse so that was the most important thing. (M/N) started a small fire in the fireplace and pulled out his pack. He took out a knife and threw it towards Robb. “Here. Get yourself cleaned up. Looking more like a wildling now.” Robb laughed and took the knife. “You wish.” Robb was going to start but stopped as he had an idea. “Why don’t you help me?” He wiggled his eyebrows at his love.

(M/N) sighed but grabbed the knife and began shaving him. He kept his hands steady as he worked his magic. “I’ve missed this...well not shaving you but just getting to feel you. I never thought I’d get to do this again. Glad I was wrong.” Robb smiled and rubbed (M/N)’s arm. “I’m glad you were wrong too.” (M//N) finished shaving Robb and cut his hair down back to the length it was at before the red wedding. The two looked into each other's eyes and leaned in. (M/N) felt Robb’s lips on his and pressed deeper. It had been so long and he almost forgot what his love felt like. 

The two broke apart and cuddled together in front of the fireplace. “So what happens now? I can unite the houses and rally them against the Boltons and Freys.” Robb said but (M/N) only shook his head. “I can’t see that going well. The red wedding killed many of your loyal men and the survivors won’t easily come back just yet. Perhaps you and I should figure out how to save Sansa or to find Arya or Bran and Rickon.” Robb frowned. “We’ll find them, I want them to be safe. Protected. But I also want my family home back. Those Boltons-” (M/N) interrupted him. “Will pay for what they’ve done. But there’s nothing we can do right now. For now just try and relax and we’ll come up with a plan tomorrow. For now…” He let his fingers move across Robb’s chest. 

“Let’s make up for lost time.”

[927roses-and-stuff]

Miracles in Gotham: Chapter 7: A Brewing Storm

A/N: So, with Season 4 of Miraculous Ladybug officially starting, this is a reminder that this fanfic is non-compliant with any events after Season 3, even with the added lore in canon. I know this is also a crossover so that’s to be expected, but because this fic is also dealing with Miraculous lore, I feel the need to put this up. Please don’t comment about canon disproving any of the material here, because I am already fully aware of the fact. I don’t really care for the show anymore, and the only thing keeping me in the fandom are the fanworks. Like many in the Maribat fandom, I discovered the more vast lore of DC through this, so there is a mix-up of canon from different worlds/universes (e.g. Young Justice, New 52, and Prime Earth), I just don’t care enough to discern which wiki I’m getting my info from.

That said, thank you to everyone who is taking the time to read this fic, and I hope that you like it. An extra thank you to everyone who has given this a kudos, bookmarked, and/or commented. I appreciate you all so much.

Also, shout out to jackmand1, Sp8cefluff and BenRG who commented on ways to open the box (getting Bunnyx to get the tablet before Hawkmoth, and asking the box to open), which is all mentioned in Marinette’s diary entry.

If you want to see more, follow: #miraclesingotham or ask to be added to the tag list.

Tag list: : @northernbluetongue @zerotosiki @spicybelladonna @my-name-is-michell @legendaryneckjudgestudent @lokiifriggasonn @iloontjeboontje

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Dear Diary,

There’s still no luck with the Miracle Box. After we tried Chat’s idea of dropping it from the Louvre using the chew toy as a pressure point, we tried hitting it with our weapons (didn’t even make a dent!), Chat asked the box to “please open don’t close up on us like my dad did” (we had a talk about that but he didn’t want to delve too much into it, and it didn’t work), the kwami tried phasing through it (thank god kwami don’t get concussions), and we even tried contacting Bunnyx, but goodness knows where she is and after Chat Blanc, I didn’t really want to see her anyway. We gave up sometime in the early morning, and now it’s shoved in one of my luggage carts, ready to bring to Gotham tomorrow. I hope it doesn’t trigger any of the airport security.

In better news, it’s been a few days since Chat and I officially introduced our new Ladybug and Bee to the scene. For the most part, I think they’re doing well- better than I did when I first started, anyway. It took a bit of time for Luka and Kagami to get used to the new set up, but Chat and I were there to help them, so it wasn’t too bad. Luka, or Bleu Acier, took a while to get used to the yoyo (who knew Luka had a fear of heights?), but he’s gotten used to it...after we had to convince him he wasn’t going to splat into the pavement or anything like that. Kagami, who decided on the name Shūyō, had to adjust to short-range fighting and not using Venom too soon, but she managed to navigate the top and cause a lot of damage to the akumas that we dealt with in the last few days. I think Hawkmoth has some idea that Bustier’s class is on the move because we’ve had an akuma attack every day so far. I’m hoping it’s just Hawkmoth becoming more desperate, although hopefully Bleu Acier and Shūyō threw him off a little bit. As of right now, I’m using the Snake Miraculous as Couleuvre, so it’ll be easier to-

One moment, Marinette had been settled comfortably in her chaise, and the next, a large crash through her bedroom walls threw her across the room, her back hitting the wall hard enough that she felt pain upon impact. When the world around her gained focus, she spotted a large woman-like figure in front of the hole in her wall cackling. The woman’s glassy skin that was translucent, yet she could also see a muddled reflection of her own face. Upon her head she wore a heavy silver crown adorned with gems that was reminiscent of her skin and a white, flowy dress that trailed behind her from the waist. In her hand was an open contact mirror that contained no reflection except for her own blue-bell eyes.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng! I am Mistress Mirage! Soon, I will show you the darkest parts of yourself, the secrets you hide behind your so-called truths!” she bellowed, her voice echoing in Marinette’s ears. In the background, she could barely hear her parents’ muffled screams and bangs against her bedroom door.

“Who-” she hissed, trying to balance herself and stand up. “What did I do to you?”

As far as she knew, she hadn’t angered anyone in the last hour she had been home for lunch.

Mistress Mirage zoomed towards her, her face shoved near into hers, her burning cold fingers choked her. Marinette backed into the wall, grabbing onto Mirage’s marble wrists, a pain shooting up her spine. Marinette could only struggle in place, her legs kicking listlessly, as the glassy, bright green emeralds Mistress Mirage had for eyes stared into her very being. The longer she stared into the empty gems, trying .

“Your weaknesses, your darkest secrets will be mine, Dupain-Cheng.”

Her voice, tinkled within Marinette’s mind, and she watched as the woman’s glassy skin shifted and soon she was faced with a kaleidoscope version of herself, blue sapphires glinting harshly, her breaths now ragged and shallow.

“Wha-” Marinette tried taking a deep breath, but Mirage’s fingers tightened their hold. “Why?” she managed to weakly choke out.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Mirage’s voice, no longer bellowing nor echoing, but now a whisper right in her ears, sounding eerily like her own. “That you aren’t enough? That you will never be enough?”

Marinette shook her head, trying to ignore the voice as it taunted her endlessly.

“What are you hiding, Marinette?”

“Why do you hide from the world?”

“How pathetic. You claim to hate liars,” Marinette felt Mirage’s fingers tighten around her. “But aren’t you a liar too?”

Tears stung the corner of her eyes. She didn’t know what was going on- Mistress Mirage wasn’t saying anything incriminating. If it were any other situation, she could brush off these accusations, but as Mirage continued to taunt her in her voice, doubts and fears, both new and old, she usually ignored were brought to the forefront of her mind.

‘I’ll fail as a Guardian- I’m not enough.

I’m abandoning my city to find a man who might not even be alive.

Chat Noir will never trust me again.

My parents want to send me away.

Why doesn’t Alya believe me?

Alya would’ve made a better Ladybug.

If Tikki could see me now she’d be disappointed.

What a failure I turned out to be.

“What a failure you turned out to be.”

Mistress Mirage’s emerald eyes glinted gleefully, a wide smile cracking into the glassy expanse of her skin. Her voice echoed Marinette’s thoughts and Marinette repeated her words as much as she could, her breathing becoming more shallow. Mistress Mirage couldn’t actually read any of Marinette’s secrets, however, she could read her psyche, a doubtful, anxious little thing, and she only said out loud what Marinette had already been telling herself to make her putty into Mirage’s hands. A neon violet butterfly appeared over her face, reminding her of her duty to get the Miraculous.

But for now, she had Marinette in her grasp. Once Marinette was in her trance, shaking slightly and mumbling nonsense as tears streaked down her cheeks, Mirage grabbed her and headed to the Trocadero, when three figures- black, steel blue and honey yellow- surrounded her in the middle of the street. The two new heroes stiffened at the sight of the girl in her arms. Chat snarled at Mistress Mirage.

“Marinette!” Chat yelled, rushing forward with his baton at Mistress Mirage. “What are you doing with her?!”

Mistress Mirage smirked. “If you want her, you’ll have to give me your Miraculous.”

She leapt out of the way only to stumble beside Shūyō who held her yellow top- flatter than Queen Bee’s with a long, black handle- the tip poised to the side of Mirage’s ribcage.

Before Shūyō could enact Venom however, Mirage turned and kicked the bee heroine away from her, holding out her compact mirror, creating a wall of mirrors that trapped Shūyō on the other side. She rearranged Marinette in her arms, ignoring the silent struggles of the bee thumping against the mirrored walls and swearing at her.

Chat Noir extended his baton towards Mistress Mirage. However, she jumped and landed on top of the baton, sending Chat sprawling through the air. Bleu Acier attacked at the same time. Mirage was quick and held out her compact to the two heroes, entrapping them in their own mirror dimension. The butterfly outline appeared again, and Mirage set off. She had special plans for Marinette.

Within the mirror dimension, Bleu and Chat were trying to navigate their way around crystallized walls which reflected everything around them. They had tried to find Shūyō, only to realize she was a reflection, then had almost been driven over by a car that had then disappeared.

“What is all this?” Chat muttered, nudging his surroundings. “It’s like, some of it are just reflections, but some of it is real.”

Bleu Acier nodded. “The reflections have to come from somewhere, so the real objects and people are in here somewhere.” He looked up and pointed a little ways forward. “Look, you can see our reflections.”

“Hope they’re getting my good side,” Chat quipped. “We have to get Shūyō and Marinette soon.”

Bleu Acier blinked, as he caught his yoyo when it hadn’t rebounded against a wall. “Do you know her personally?” He asked. He hadn’t been aware of Marinette’s close relationship with the Parisian heroes.

Chat gave a stiff nod. “She’s worked with Ladybug and I a few times. I met her when we fought Evillustrator.”

“So, do you and Ladybug often have civilians fight for you?” Bleu frowned. He scanned the area, and turned left.

“Only when we really need to,” Chat scoffed. “It’s not ideal, but it’s just me and m’Lady and sometimes we need help.”

Bleu could sense a resonating low, flat tone emanating from Chat. “That’s horrible. You guys look like you’re still kids.” Chat shrugged in response. As they walked onwards, investigating every inch of the way, Bleu noticed a figure dressed in a black and yellow-patterned fencing uniform, wearing a striped domino mask, thumping against a transparent wall. “Chat, look.”

Cat’s eyes widened at the sight. “Shūyō!” he yelled and rushed forward, only to be trapped in a corner with several reflections of the bug-themed heroine. Chat’s breath quickened. “Shūyō! Can you hear us?!”

Shūyō’ perked up and looked around. “I can! But where are you?” She shouted, her voice vibrating through the air.

“Shit.” Chat stared at his hand, before clenching it and turning towards Bleu. “I think we might need that Lucky Charm now.”

He nodded. “Lucky Charm!”

A bright red object with black spots dropped from the sky followed a series of chimes. Bleu Acier’s eyes widened as he held up the wind chime, eight hollow tubes ringing against the slapper in between, the clear, steady ringing piercing all around them. The wind chime was half the size of his torso, so fortunately, it was lighter than it looked.

It was a curious thing Ladybug had noted, that most of Bleu Acier’s Lucky Charms were sound or music-related.

“Well, this blows. You going to chime a pretty tune there, Bleu?”

He held back a chuckle. In the week he and Shūyō had been working with Chat and Ladybug, he had grown to appreciate Chat’s humour and the jaunty tune he associated with them.

“Maybe,” he said. Raising his voice, he addressed Shūyō. “Can you hear this?!” He asked, shaking the wind chime from its hanger.

They could see Shūyō’s reflection moving around, her eyes closed in concentration. “Sort of!” she answered, echoing slightly. “Are we able to use Chat Noir’s Cataclysm?!”

Bleu stared at Chat who was staring at his hand in deep thought. “Probably! We just need to make sure I’m not using Cataclysm on something real!”

“Maybe it is not my place to say as your junior, but this is not the time for hesitation!” Shūyō yelled back.

A beep echoed in Bleu’s ears. “We should hurry. I only have four minutes.”

Chat nodded. “Alright!” He looked around, scanning nearby walls until he found a reflection of himself- a sure way to make sure he hit the mirror. “Cataclysm!”

The walls around them crumbled in seconds, revealing the world around them. Chat smirked, and they scouted for Shūyō who met them in the middle.

“Why did you not use Cataclysm in the first place?” Shūyō asked, when they reconvened.

“I didn’t want to accidentally use it on the wrong thing,” he said, flexing his fingers. “Come on, we have less than five minutes. Don’t use Venom until you receive my signal.”

Shūyō nodded.

Chat turned to Bleu Acier and pointed to the wind chime. “Keep that on you and look out for opportunities.” He turned around and headed off. “Let’s go!”

In the end, Mistress Mirage was defeated quickly. In their absence, she had grown arrogant, and the three heroes found several clones of Mistress Mirage atop the Palais de Chaillot, a crowd having gathered at the bottom. Each clone had a Marinette bound in front of them, at the edge of the roof, standing listlessly. Despite this, Mistress Mirage was not prepared for the ambush of the three heroes. Bleu’s wind chimes were used as a distraction for the real Mistress Mirage while Chat and Shūyō attacked from behind.

“Shūyō! Use it now!” Chat yelled, as he grabbed Marinette and set her down on the ground below, and allowed the paramedics to deal with her.

“Venom,” Shūyō muttered. She dropped beneath Mirage and her top, stabbing her opponent beneath her ribcage. “Gotcha.”

Mistress Mirage froze mid-air, one leg in the air and both hands outstretched. Chat’s eyes widened when he didn’t see her holding the akumatized object. Chat pounced back onto the roof, ignoring the second beep from his ring. He noticed the satin sash that was wrapped around her waist.

“Shūyō, the akumatized object is the mirror she carries around. It should be in her sash,” he said, his cheeks tinged pink. “Can you- uh-?”

Shūyō nodded. “I do not understand your need for modesty at such a time, but it is commended.”

Chat’s cheeks reddened further. “It’s just polite! I don’t want to be touching anyone without their consent!”

Shūyō took out the compact mirror that had been tucked into the sash just above her left hip. She tossed it to Bleu Acier who quickly broke it and captured the akuma.

“It’s just the principle of it!” Chat squawked as the trail of tiny red ladybugs flowed throughout Parisian skies.

She snorted. “I understand. I was just teasing.” She turned to nod at Bleu then at Chat. “You two are close to de-transforming. I will bring both victims home.” Shūyō then grabbed Lila, who had been the akuma and was now disoriented, and jumped down to retrieve Marinette.

When Marinette had woken up from the akuma attack, she had been escorted home by Shūyō, who had fussed over any injuries she may have gotten before eventually leaving with a pack of honey macarons. Marinette smiled. Chat had made a good choice with Kagami. After, she had endured cuddles and hugs from her parents who were now even more determined to get her out of Paris.

Later that evening, after reassuring her parents and making sure the kwami were okay. She headed off to patrol where she had to answer for her absence, and where Chat had regaled how they did. Marinette smiled, knowing she made the right choice. After the patrol, which had been less of a patrol and more of a small goodbye ceremony, she returned home and recorded the events in her diary, slowly anticipating the trip.

The next day, she had just made it to the airport an hour before boarding. Everyone had gone through the usual airport processes and she was the last to arrive with her passport and airplane tickets in her carry-on shoulder bag. When she arrived to the waiting area where her friends were (with Adrien’s bodyguard nearby playing on his phone), she was met with a lot of mixed reactions.

Alya had rushed over and hugged her, frantically asking if she was okay. Several classmates had joined her, like Rose, Juleka and Mylene. She hugged them back and reassured them that she was alright, and wasn’t going to jump off roofs anytime soon (though she didn’t remember that from yesterday anyway). They then moved on and Alya asked her a question that stopped her in her tracks.

“Why were you arguing with Lila yesterday, anyway?” Alya asked, leading the two of them to sit down.

Marinetter furrowed her eyebrows and frowned. “What are you on about? I’m not talking to Lila at all.”

Alya frowned. “She told us that’s why she was akumatized yesterday. Apparently you called the mirror she got from Bruce Wayne as a birthday gift, fake.”

Marinette forced herself to not roll her eyes. “What? Why would I care about anything like that? She’s lying!”

Alya frowned even more. “Lila said you’d probably say that. Why can’t you two just get along?”

“Alya, you’re the one that believes Lila has a lying illness. Why don’t you believe me when I say she’s lying and that I didn’t even see her at all yesterday outside of class?” Marinette tensed. How petty did Lila think she was? How petty was Lila?

“She did get akumatized yesterday. Her story matches the events,” Alya said. “Marinette, you’re my best friend. That’s why I want to know why you did what you did.”

Marinette snorted. “And I’m telling you, I didn’t do anything. Is this what the whole class believes? That I’m so shallow that I would akumatize Lila over something as trivial as a mirror?”

Alya blanched. “No, of course not. We’re just saying you two had an argument and Lila got upset enough to turn into an akuma. We’re not saying it was intentional on your part or anything.”

She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Look, my version of events is that I went home for lunch, was in my bedroom, got attacked by the akuma, and was out for it until that Bee hero Shūyō brought me home. Believe what you want, but don’t expect me to apologize to Lila for something I didn’t do.”

Marinette stood up and was about to go before she was stopped by Alya grabbing her wrist. She looked back and watched as Alya looked down at her clenched fist, biting her lip.

“I,” Alya sighed. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but I’m not saying I don’t believe Lila either. Either way, both of you were the victims yesterday. I’m sorry I was asking you stuff like that.”

Marinette frowned and sat back down. She wasn’t sure what was happening between her and Alya. Alya had been spending more time with Lila, even ending up as her seatmate on the plane and her roommate for the hotel. It made Marinette uncomfortable that they were becoming so close, considering who Lila was. But, Alya was a good person- she just wanted her friends to get along, and it’s not like she could force Alya to cut off her other friendships, even if it was to manipulative lying rats like Lila. That had to be on Alya’s terms. All Marinette could do was be there for her and hope she’d return the sentiment.

She forced a smile. “You’re forgiven.” Alya looked up and smiled, reaching out to hug her. “Now, let’s hang out for a bit before we’re stuck in a plane for twelve hours.”

Alya smiled back. “Yeah! By the way, did you hear that Jagged Stone knows Bruce Wayne?”

And just like that, they had spent the rest of the hour waiting to board the place. The plane that would take them to whatever was awaiting them in Gotham City.

A/N: So that's the end to the first arc I guess, if I intentionally have arcs lol. The rest of this fanfic will be in Gotham. Thank you again for joining me this far and I hope you continue to read it!

Other notes: Bleu Acier is based on the Steelblue Ladybird, with Bleu Acier meaning Steel Blue. Shūyō has three meanings in Japanese, but here, it’s used to mean self-discipline (because that’s something I associate with bees and hard workers). Couleuvre is just another way to say snake in French because Marinette sucks at names.

P.S. I don't hate Alya. In fact, I think we often brush over the fact that Alya is fiercely loyal and in the show, doesn't have all the facts so she's not too suspicious of Lila.

[azroazizah]

Want you to know you are a gift that I am grateful to have found to keep a touchstone couple like SoMa alive for people like me that miss them. I was wondering, what’s your top recommended fanfic for SoMa, your own work included?

sjgsvjkdsjkd stop you’ll kill me with diabetes, pls, I beg you

this list is sacrilegiously short, bc I only list what’s currently been on my mind lmao, a complete list may follow at a later date. so here we go, in no specific order:

Red Eyes Bleed Green by Bitter November. (M). A mangaverse fic where Soul is the absolute dumbest boy with negative self-esteem. Good thing Maka tries her hardest to drill into his thick skull that he's the only one she wants. Featuring shipper Wes. God, I love that man.

Stereo Hearts by Bitter November. (M). Soul has everything going for him to woo Maka. Mood music, cheesy serenade, romantic gift, witch's death curse-say what! Bitty writes so much interesting and hilarious SoMa. Check other fics as well and you’re not gonna be disappointed.

Bare Feet & Cowboy Boots by khaleesimaka. (M). In which Maka Albarn went to be one of the candidates to win the heart of Cowboy Bachelor Soul Evans. All Liz’s fault. She's certainly not going to catch the case of feelings, of course. wdym

Dragon by Odat. (M). Dragon!Soul. Who purrs and schedules his naps. Absolute delight.

How to Train Your Soul by Poisoned Scarlet. (M). Also Dragon!Soul, with Maka as his rider. A++

Blind Faith by Poisoned Scarlet. (T). Housewife Soul in a biker wardrobe caring for this tiny little blind girl? Hell yeah.

the delta sun burns bright and violet by Poisoned Scarlet. (M). Mermaid!Maka. Someone really should teach her how to use curses. Or to wear clothes. Poor Soul.

Cloudburst by Poisoned Scarlet. (T). Grumpy Cat Soul. Maka really had no idea that her cat was a human. A very attractive human.

Someday by Poisoned Scarlet. (M). Warlock Soul and his ‘angel’ lover. You heard me mention Scarlet a whole lot. Yes. All she’s written was pure gold and unicorn tears. She has like a hundred of SoMa fics. Read all of them. Five stars.

Steady Hands, Steady Hearts by TooOceanBlue. (T). Canonverse fic. Bruh, I live and breathe in Evans Family Headcanons and how Maka reacts to them and their relationship with Soul, and this one is the kind of Evans family I love the most.

We Just Don't Give it a Name by Aedien. (K). This. Absolutely what I thought how mangaverse SoMa relationship is. A+++

Amplify by Marsh of Sleep. (M). In which Soul and Maka realizes there’s a psychic link between their souls.

Lodestar by Marsh of Sleep. (M). Cowboy AU. Hooooo boy, this is one of the first SE fics I've ever read and it constantly returns to my mind every other day.

If Only Tonight We Could Sleep by Marsh of Sleep. (M). Zombie Apocalypse AU. sometimes poetic and sometimes heartbreaking. Often both. “Soul?”.......... “Speaking.” God I love those two lines far too much

Quantum Entanglement by Marsh of Sleep. (M). In which Soul find his main tank is actually a girl. A very cute girl who cosplays. I. Absolutely. Can’t. Keep. A. Straight. Face. I really love how Marsh write character interactions and dynamics. She makes a very adorable Soul (he gives his family cute nicknames like Matriach or Firstborn, what a dork). Actually just go read all of her fics. They’re gold. No. Platinum.

Count to Eight by infantblue. (M). In which Maka was dragged into another timeline where she'd died on the Moon and find her beloved partner broken beyond recognition. An evil fic. A very evil fic. Pls don't read if you still want your heart whole. (jk, read it and cry with me as we curse Chloe together)

One Damn Thing After Another by metisket. Mangaverse, from Soul’s point of view. If you want to peek inside of the snarkiest, the darkest, the most anxious, the dumbest pining idiot in existence, read this.

The Exception Clause by Lisp. (T). In which Maka Albarn refuses to lose a bet, and Soul Evans makes a surprisingly good fake-boyfriend. I like their dynamics a lot.

Two of Us by Professor Maka. (T). A mangaverse fic featuring the Evans family. Perfect set of Fake Dating (fake marriage?) and Mutual Pining.

Touch Cats Shut Up by makapedia. (T). Fruits Basket AU. With Soul as the cat. Angst, check. Fluff, check. Stubborn Maka, check. Completely adorable Soul, check. Kid as Edward Cullen, check. lmao

Poor Unfortunate Soul by makapedia. (M). In which Soul is a terrible incubus. No, not just terrible. Absolutely dreadful. At least until he meets a certain pigtailed girl. Kat makes very fluffy and adorable Souls, I swear. Read her other fics too!!

ALSO I FOUND ANOTHER LIST OF AUTHORS AND I ABSOLUTELY AGREE WITH THIS PLS CHECK EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. 100000/10 WOULD RECOMMEND!!!

I, uh, I haven’t written that much fanfic, really, well, I have, but that’s just my 276927494 opened-but-ignored wip documents speaking. My betas and the discord people I annoy on daily basis might murder me bc I have a shamefully big unfinished WIP list planned lmao, no guys I promise I’m working on it,but uhh, if you wanna read what I’ve published so far then... uh....

A Winter Solstice. (M). Easily my favorite work so far. Fullmetal Alchemist AU. In which Maka Albarn, a second generation state alchemist, stumbled across Soul, a lonely Ishvalan boy who could transmute himself into a scythe, among the ruins of Death City.

Those Unspoken Things. (T). SoMa Week 2019 collection

Love is in the Air! (kill it, please!). (T). Valentine fluffshots.

So yeah, I plan to write more, and finish what I started wwwwww, bc what’s life without constantly making two dorks kissing each other?

Anyway, thank you for asking!! I’m a bab in this fandom so I haven’t consumed that much food yet, I’m so sorry this is too blasphemously few. I certainly forgot lots but everyone is welcomed to add more! (actually, pls add more, I need to have more ways to destroy my sleep schedule)

[firelxdykatara]

hello!! i just wanted to ask- i wanna do an ouat rewatch bc CAPTAIN SWANN but its pretty long and i honestly dont care for the other characters/how badly the overall writing was handled.. which are your favourite captain swan eps? anything them centered and i think ill just skip around to rewatch their romance as they did invent romance 😭😭 ty in advance <3

they absolutely did invent romance, you are right about that and i love them so much

UHMMMM as far as my favorite CS eps, here’s a roadmap of what I personally consider key eps in their journey (some of this is from memory but I haven’t done a full rewatch in a while so i’m going through the episode list as a refresher)

2x06: Tallahassee--this is a must-watch ep for any CS fan, and I really think this is the episode that sparked the fire that CS would become as a fandom. It has everything--flirtatious banter, all kinds of tension, deliberate parallels drawn between Emma and Killian’s pasts, as well as their first meeting being intercut with her relationship with Neal (which serves, especially in hindsight, to highlight just how sketchy that relationship was, and why she couldn’t bring herself to trust Killian--because the last time she felt this way about anyone, it ended horribly)

2x08 and 2x09: Into the Deep and Queen of Hearts--these episodes cover the race to the portal between Emma&co and Hook/Cora and while they don’t do a ton for CS as a relationship since they’re still enemies at this point, it lays great foundation for their future relationship development. Plus, sexy swordfight, Hook going out of his way to save Aurora’s heart--he may be a pirate, but he has standards ok--and Emma realizing Cora can’t remove her heart without her permission? Poetic Cinema

2x11: The Outsider--more of a Killian-centric episode, it shows a lot of Killian at his worst but it’s necessary for his overall character arc and I genuinely love looking back and seeing just how far he managed to come, to the point of eventually even letting go of his (very understandable) grudge against Rumplestiltskin.

2x12: In the Name of the Brother--am I including this purely for Emma&Hook banter in the hospital, and Killian saying ‘hey beautiful’ when he’s lying on the road because he just got hit by a fucking car? You bet I am. Also, go to youtube and look up ‘ouat season two deleted scene jello’, because it’s beautiful and there was a tremendous outcry in the fandom when we realized it had been cut from the episode lmao (It’s also the episode that made me start shipping Frankenwolf, which I’m still sad never went anywhere, but they had a lot of potential and great chemistry.)

2x22: And Straight On Till Morning--A few of the episodes in between have some fun minor interactions and flashbacks (and I always approve of episodes where Killian gets one up on Rumple, so 2x15 is fun for me if i ignore all the Neal bits) but the finale is where we finally get a glimpse of who Killian could be beyond his need for revenge. He didn’t have to come back, he didn’t have to bring back the bean and help the town--but he did.

Season 3a: there’s a lot of really good stuff here for Hook and Emma that is interwoven between the A plots of other episodes. I think, as far as half-season arcs go, it’s one of the best (and everything after 4a bombed hard, but I digress) But there are a few episodes that stand out if you don’t want to watch the whole season. (I recommend starting with the premier though, it was a really solid season starter overall.)

3x05: Good Form--this is the culmination of David’s poisoned-by-dreamshade arc, and is also Peak Captain Charming Bromance. Hook not only keeping David’s secret, but doing everything he can to help save him??? Poetic cinema. It also provides some crucial Killian backstory, showing how he lost his brother to the very same dreamshade. Plus, the character development--Pan offers Killian a chance to escape the island with Emma if he kills David, and instead, he saves him, refusing the deal and damn the consequences. Also also? The first CS kiss which drove the fandom WILD.

3X06: Ariel--not only to I love OUaT’s take on Ariel, but this episode has the infamous Echo Cave scene, which involves a lot of feelsy confessions and Killian being the one to tell everyone that Neal is alive and helping Emma save him despite his own growing feelings for her.....IT’S JUST A LOT AND I LOVE IT.

3x07: Dark Hallow--oh man, I’d forgotten about this episode, but it has Killian and Neal fighting over Emma, which may sound eye-roll worthy, but Emma is allowed to tear them a new one about it and it’s one of the few times she’s allowed to actually???? put her own feelings first so I have to include it here on spec

3x11 and 3x12: Going Home and New York City Serenade--these mark the end of 3a and start of 3b respectively, and it has some amazing shit like Killian vowing never to forget Emma and Emma smiling as she replies, “Good.” And then she and Henry are in New York with their memories completely altered, but Killian shows up because Storybrooke is back and in jeopardy, and he helps Emma get back to her family and her home and, much later, Emma finds out he sold the Jolly Roger to be able to do it and it’s just. It’s beautiful ok.

3x17: The Jolly Roger--there’s honestly not a whole lot in the back half of season 3 (until the CS movie) but of course anything named for Hook is a must-watch, and this is where we get the iconic line I swear on Emma Swan--which is Killian saying he’s in love with her before he even realizes it. We also find out just what he did to Ariel, and his attempts to make amends are what lead to Zelena being able to curse him, so it’s great from a character perspective as well.

The next four episodes round out the end of the season, and there’s a lot of great stuff in them--Hook refusing to get Emma to kiss him, but Emma feeling like she can’t trust him because he didn’t tell her about the curse to begin with, and then kissing him anyway to save his life regardless of the consequences.... but the only ones that are absolutely necessary are the final two episodes.

They are colloquially termed ‘The Captain Swan Movie’ for a reason, after all.

Killian and Emma essentially have an entire Time Travel adventure all to themselves, where they accidentally ruin her parents first meeting and have to fix it so that she’ll even be born, Emma finally getting into the storybook, the pair of them dancing at a ball, Killian rushing to save Emma only for her to get out of the cell herself, because “The only one who saves me is me.” Killian saying “I would go to the ends of the world for her... or time.” Finally fixing the timeline and making it back to Storybrooke and Killian feeling like he doesn’t deserve a place at the table so he doesn’t go inside, but Emma comes out to him anyway and finds out he gave up the Jolly Roger for her, the true start to their relationship...... IM CRYING JUST THINKING ABOUT IT I’M SORRY.

I personally really enjoyed 4a, the Frozen arc was one of the last good half-season arcs of the show, but a lot of people disliked it so it’s really up to interpretation. I don’t have as many Intense Opinions on this season (except hating almost everything about 4b and the queens of darkness arc), but I will say the episodes with good Killian/CS moments are 4x02 (Emma nearly freezes to death, Killian is desperate to save her, Captain Charming teamwork, my heart hurts), 4x04 (Emma asks Killian out on a real date, he tries to get his real hand back from Gold, things go massively awry and he winds up back under Gold’s thumb), 4x08 (Killian tries to save Emma from Gold’s plans), 4x11 (the 4a finale is just great in general), and then..... it cannot be overstated how much I hate season 4b, but 4x15 is the Killian-centric ep where his past with Ursula is revealed and he makes amends to her in order to get her to leave the QoD alliance and it’s great character stuff for him, and then there’s the season 4 finale.

Both parts are worth watching, if only because Deckhand Coward Hook still being a braver, more heroic man than ‘Hero Rumplestiltskin’ warms the very cockles of my heart, and of course the second part of the finale has him helping Henry to save Emma and it’s beautiful and also Emma watches him die for her and it is angsty as FUCK but gods I love it. Here’s where it gets tricky, though--my recommendation is, turn the episode off right after Emma finds Killian back in the present day of Storybrooke and they reunite.

Just turn off the episode there and skip right ahead to the s6 musical episode (Emma and Killian’s wedding ep) and pretend they got married and none of seasons 5 or 6 ever happened. >.> (Although I will say certain parts of the Underworld arc were incredibly feelsy despite how much I overall hated the season: 5x11 (the 5a finale, Killian as the dark one STILL being a better man than rumple, we love to see it), 5x15 (I am not immune to Brothers Jones feelings ok), 5x20 (emma literally takes a True Love Test trying to find a way to save killian, you don’t get more romantic than that--also Killian telling Emma to promise she won’t put her armor back up just because she lost him again??? my HEART), 5x21 (Hook does what he can from the Underworld anyway and zeus sends him back to Emma, they really just said ‘today I will invent romance’ and then Did That)

And then, yeah, just skip to the wedding. It’s beautiful, I enjoyed the music, personally, though I know musical episodes are hit or miss with most people. And if you turn it off when the last musical number starts (after the wedding ceremony, I believe) you can pretend it was the end of the show! =DDD

.....Oh my god I just rambled for years. I HOPE YOU FIND THIS USEFUL, ANON. I 100% support a CS-centered rewatch, their episodes were consistently some of the best across the entire series, and they are truly one of my favorite romances of all time.

[songofsoma]

Watch of the Faithful

31 days of wayhaven // day 9: fight

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles pairing: ava du mortain x cecilia beck words: 2,733 rating: general

part 1 // part 2

read on ao3

“She’s lucky to even be alive.”

The words rocked Ava to her core when Elidor spoke.

Hands flew out to grip anything to keep her grounded. The edge of a side table was the unfortunate victim to her white-knuckle grip. She could see the fae’s lips move as he continued to speak with Agent Beck and the rest of the unit, but all Ava could hear was the blood rushing in her ears.

“…internal bleeding from cracked ribs and head trauma from the impact against the wall. I’ve given her something to put her into a temporary coma to allow her body to heal.” 

Elidor hesitates for a moment before continuing. “If the demon infesting her hadn’t been keeping her body going, she would’ve died” His voice seemed pained at the thought.

Ava came crashing back to reality and slowly turned to face Morgan who was already backing away.

She held her hands up defensively, her face twisted into a scowl. “She was trying to kill us.”

“Did you have to hit her so hard, Morgan?” It was Farah who snapped, golden eyes still glossy from tears. “Didn’t you hear what he just said, you almost killed my best friend!”

Morgan flinched, her stony gaze faltering. “Listen, it’s not my fault demon Cece was a bitch.”

A snarl ripped from Ava’s lips as she stalked forward.

There was no stopping her. She was a freight train compared to the others, even Nat would’ve been useless at halting her.

Large hands gripped Morgan’s upper arms, slamming her back against the wall. She could practically feel the others flinch from the cracking sound of the wall.

“You have made it clear you do not care for Cecilia plenty of times. But this is unacceptable.” She was in her face. The fierceness of Ava’s attitude was enough to catch the other vampire off-guard. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” She snapped, pulling herself together.

“You almost took her away from us, from me. I swear to you, Morgan, I would have never forgiven you if she had died.” Her voice cracked at the thought of the detective’s death. 

Morgan’s eyes were wide as Ava dropped her back to her feet. She turned away, unable to look at her any longer. A trembling hand ran across her forehead in attempts to soothe the anxieties bubbling inside her.

The room had fallen silent in the meantime, shock reverberating around the room.

“Ava?” A comforting touch fell on to her shoulder. She doesn’t even have to look to know it came from Nat.

“What it is?” She asked, a heavy sigh accompanying the question. She was tired, so tired, and was ready to be left alone.

“Why don’t you get some rest? I think Rebecca should have some time alone with Cece.”

She was right. Nat was always right.

Ava looked over her shoulder to observe the agent slumped against the wall. Her head was bowed, her sleek bob had been traded in for an unkempt mess of brunette waves that hid the sharp features of her face. Even if she had been told Cecilia had resembled Rook more—soft, rounded features, kind eyes, a dazzling smile that could charm anyone to their knees—Ava was still taken aback by the parallels between the two women.

She turned her attention to Nat. “I will in a few minutes.”

Catching the hint, she nodded, squeezing her shoulder before she left. Morgan had ducked out seconds after Ava had let her go, Farah following quickly to presumably give her a piece of her mind too, and Elidor had other patients that required his attention.

It left just Ava and Rebecca.

After a long moment of silence, Ava moved to stand in front of her superior, unsure of what to say.

“How could I not have realized sooner?” Rebecca finally muttered.

She pursed her lips. “None of us did.”

“You did.” Dark and tortured eyes met hers. “You knew.”

Ava said nothing. She only looked away with a furrowed brow.

“What kind of mother does not know when her own daughter is acting differently?” Her words were strangled from the fresh tears staining the russet skin of her face. “I swore to her I would make up for all those years I wasn’t there for her properly.” She shook her head, a humorless laugh following. “She said there was nothing to forgive me for, that she understood. You should’ve seen the way her eyes lit up when I asked her if she wanted to have lunch with me. I have never seen someone get so excited over lunch.”

She gave a knowing smile. “That sounds like her, yes.”

Rebecca shook her head. “I can’t keep failing her. Even with a heart as big as hers, I’m going to run out of chances. I’m going to lose my baby just like I did her father.”

Ava swallowed hard as she tried to choose her words carefully. There wasn’t a chance to respond.

Arms wrapped around her tightly as Rebecca’s cold professionalism cracked completely. This wasn’t Agent Beck, it was a tired and broken woman who was on the brink of losing it all.

She returned the gesture hesitantly. Rebecca was on the shorter side, not as small as Cecilia, but still at least four or five inches shorter than herself. 

“Thank you for taking care of her, Ava,” she whispered. “Please, please, be good to her.”

Ava felt her chest tighten. 

She wanted to say that she wished she could do better by her or that the girl deserved better, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it aloud. The internal fight of her selfish need for Cecilia and the desperation for her to have what she truly deserved was a war fought by tireless soldiers.

“Always.” That was what she finally settled on, ignoring the lump forming in her throat when she spoke. 

But it was true. So long as Cecilia would have her, Ava would be there.

***

For the next week, Ava spent the majority of her time in the tiny hospital room Cecilia had been set up in.

She sat beside the bed, watching over her every second she could until Elidor ushered her out of the room so he and the other staff could care for her. It was a daily occurrence, and still, Ava was disgruntled every time she was evicted.

Sometimes, Nat came and sat with her. She brought a few of Cecilia’s favorite novels to read aloud. “I read that it helps,” she had said to the curious gaze she was given.

Ava appreciated the company. It was lonely without the detective’s lively chatter.

Farah and Agent Beck frequented the room as well. From what Ava could tell, Farah and Morgan were still not on speaking terms. To be fair, she and Ava hadn’t spoken since either, but that was partly to Morgan avoiding the leader like she was a reckoning. She supposed she was in a way. 

When the fact was brought up, Nat predicted—quite tiredly—that everything would smooth over once Cecilia woke up. She also found out Morgan had popped in the few times Ava wasn’t there. 

But still, none of them were Cecilia.

It had been a week since she had seen those pretty brown eyes or witnessed rosy lips curl into a smile that never failed to weaken her knees. She wanted the warmth of her touch, the softness of her lips. Ava was starving for her.

Her mind had been running in circles since that night as she thought of all the ways she could have stopped it. The ways she could have saved her. But right now, all she wanted was for Cecilia to recover.

Elidor had given the notice that they would be waking her up today.

“It might take some time. She’ll wake up on her own.” He gave a sympathetic smile to the little group who had gathered, feeling the mood deflate in the room.

So once more, Ava stood guard over the sleeping figure of her lover. She acted as an impenetrable wall between Cecilia and the dangers of the outside world.

She had been lost in thought when Cecilia first awoke.

Ava hadn’t noticed the way her eyelashes fluttered or the way her toes and fingers curled as her body slowly began to wake up.

What caught her attention was the soft sigh as her eyelids finally slid open, groggy gaze searching the room, confusion written all over her face.

Ava took a bandaged hand between her own. “You’re awake,” she said dumbly.

Cecilia attempted to sit up. Ava hadn’t been quick enough to stop her before a cry of pain left her lips and she fell back against the bed, breathing ragged.

“Mea vita, you need to rest.” Her lips brushed over the rough bandages covering her knuckles. Cecilia’s grip tightened pathetically on her fingers.

“Ava—” she croaked, voice hoarse from lack of use.

Letting go of her hand, Ava stood to fetch her a glass of water to help soothe the dryness of her throat.

She helped the cup to dry, cracked lips, her other hand cradling the back of Cecilia’s head tenderly. She made a note to bring her the lip balm she favored later, feeling guilty for not doing so before.

After settling her back down gently, she pulled her chair closer to the bed. 

She smoothed down dark wisps of hair that were unruly from sleep. Purplish bruises were scattered over her face, deep shadows hanging under her eyes. A thick white bandage was wrapped around her forehead to cover the stitches she had received from her head wound. She was so beautiful even now, injured and under the fluorescent hospital lighting. It was one of her many talents.

Deep brown eyes shone with sudden tears. “Ava, I’m so sorry.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for, my love.” A soothing hand caressed her cheek, being careful of the discolored skin.

“What I did,” she shook her head, shifting so Ava’s hand was forced to fall away, “that is unforgivable. What I did to you and the others. Oh god, to Morgan.” She slumped further down, hiding her guilt as she wept.

“Cecilia, please,” Ava’s words were soft as she gently pulled her hands away to reveal her face once more. “It is not your fault. All that matters is the fact that you are okay.”

Plump lips rolled together as she thought, silent tears still slipping over her cheeks. Without thinking, Ava wiped them away, her touch a whisper against her skin.

“Is Morgan alright? It’s all blurred together in my mind. All I can remember is that I hurt her.”

Ava snorted, leaning back in her chair. “She’s fine. She heals.”

She took a few seconds to study her. “You’re mad at her. Why?”

Blonde brows shot up in shock. “Do you not remember her throwing you against the wall?”

“Kind of hard to forget.” She winced at the memory. “But I did deserve it.”

Ava stood up, beginning to pace the small length of the room. “Cecilia, she almost killed you.” It was becoming harder to stay calm.

“But she didn’t—”

“She could have!”

Cecilia’s lips hung open, unable to think of a response.

Ava’s chest was heaving and her fists were clenched. Her gaze was beginning to blur from tears. Not wanting Cecilia to witness the cracking of her stoic armor, she turned her head.

“Come here.”

She whipped around.

“Please,” Cecilia whispered, opening her arms.

Ava sat back on the previously abandoned chair, the top half of her slumping forward onto the bed. The comforting warmth of Cecilia’s embrace enveloped her even at the awkward angle she held her shoulders. Her forehead rested against her chest, her own arms sliding around her, being cautious not to jostle her. 

Cecilia grunted as she moved to press a soft kiss to the side of Ava’s head. She quickly settled back down before she could be scolded, opting to run her fingers through the tendrils of loose blonde hair that spilled on to the sheets.

“I will be fine,” she promised, the pad of her thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped her glacial gaze. “Besides, I have you looking after me. I think I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have such a hot nurse.”

A strained laugh left her as she sat up, enjoying the pleased grin on Cecilia’s lips. “I am sure Elidor will be overjoyed to hear such a compliment.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you, silly. I meant you. Elidor isn’t my type.”

“And I am?” Ava chuckled.

The air was sucked from her lungs when she noticed the shift in her gaze to full adoration. “You know you are,” Cecilia murmured, grabbing at the collar of her shirt to pull her closer, pressing a tender kiss to her lips.

The door crashed open, accompanied by a loud squeal. 

“I told you I heard voices!” Farah cried out happily.

Ava turned, quite irritably at the ruining of the moment, to see the young agent with an arm full of colorful balloons and flowers skip into the room. She had Nat in tow who seemed to be in charge of transporting an oversized teddy bear, but she seemed more than happy to be a part of it. Morgan trailed in after them. She had a small pink stuffed dog in her hands and an unsure look in her eyes.

Farah shoved everything she was holding into Morgan’s arms before rushing over to hug Cecilia who let out a small oof. 

“Oh shit!” She jumped back. “I’m sorry, I forgot. I’m just so glad you’re okay,” she said sheepishly, glancing over at Ava.

“It’s alright, really,” she assured her, reaching out to take her hand gratefully.

Farah smiled.

“You didn’t have to do this.” Cecilia gestured to where Nat was helping Morgan set down the various gifts they had brought.

“We wanted to.” Nat’s warm smile accompanied her words as she greeted the girl with a gentle hug. “It’s the least we could do.”

Farah was bouncing on her heels excitedly, pushing a tight curl out of her face before Cecilia patted the edge of the bed for her to sit. She did without a second thought, already talking a mile a minute.

Ava settled back into her seat, finally feeling like she was able to breathe again. 

She watched the detective carefully. The joy was overpowering the lingering exhaustion in her eyes. It wouldn’t be long before Ava would have to chase everyone out so she could rest.

Cecilia’s eyes suddenly looked around the room, landing on Morgan lurking in the corner. “I thought I saw you come in,” she said happily, clearly taking the vampire by surprise.

She seemed uncomfortable as she slinked over to the side of the bed, stiffly holding out the stuffed animal she had brought. “I’m sorry for, uh, throwing you against a wall and almost killing you.”

Ava stiffened, but amusement played on Cecilia’s face.

Cecilia grinned. “I knew you liked me.” She grabbed Morgan’s wrist, tugging her into a semi-forced hug, one that she eventually gave in to.

They had been allowed to stay for a bit longer. Elidor had come in to check on her a few times as well. He seemed just as relieved to see her awake as the rest of them did. Eventually, the rest of the team had been shooed out to allow Cecilia to rest. Ava had only been permitted to stay because it was quite clear she had no intention of going anywhere.

Ava had taken Farah’s spot on the edge of the bed, gently brushing hair away from her face. 

“Do you think these beds are too small for you to lay with me?” Cecilia murmured with a quiet smile.

She chuckled. “These beds are barely large enough for me alone, carissima.”

“Guess I’ll just have to beg Elidor to let me move back to my room tomorrow.” She yawned, nuzzling into Ava’s hand on her cheek.

Her heart clenched as she watched her. She didn’t dare to move until she was sure Cecilia had fallen asleep. And when she did, the farthest Ava went was to her post in the chair so she could stand watch over her darling once again.        

[sparkleofpizza]

The archer - Tim Drake x reader 4/?

Requested: no

Warnings: swearing, death, gore, fluff 

Taglist: @isthataladybag @the-fandom-ness @takoyakkun @caswinchester2000 

Summary: Y/n Queen will be living in the Wayne Manor for a while, and Dick Grayson decided to be the Cupid between her and his little brother Tim Drake.

Word count: 2.807

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Arrow after arrow was shot to the target glued to the wall. You kept going, practicing was a good thing to keep your mind off things and also clear your head. Sometimes it was good to just let your pent up feelings go with every arrow that left your quiver.

You haven’t been out on patrol since you moved to Gotham two months ago, all you did was sometimes spare with Jason - that was a rare occurrence now, he had one of his many fights with Bruce and has been avoiding the manor lately. That left you to practice archery on your own, not that you minded, it was good being alone for a while.

You could feel Damian’s eyes on you. You knew he had been keeping a close eye on you ever since they found out about the whole League of Assassins stuff. Even if you hadn’t heard what they were talking at the kitchen, you would’ve still found out he was suspicious of you, he didn’t know how to keep a low profile when giving you murderous glares or muttering under his breath - maybe he wasn’t trying to be subtle, maybe he wanted you to know he was keeping tabs on you. 

You didn’t mind him watching you, you just kept doing your thing at the batcave. You didn’t want to pick a fight with a twelve year old. 

“Hi.” Tim said, a smile on his face as he came to a stop beside you “I didn’t see you at breakfast today.”

“Good morning.” You nodded your head, not daring to look at him “I didn’t have breakfast today.”

He frowned “Why not?”

“So I could practice.”

He nodded his head, watching you do your thing. You looked beautiful, deadly and beautiful. He couldn’t help but admire you, you didn’t even seem to notice - at least he hoped you didn’t, he didn’t want to seem creep.

“Do you want to have breakfast with me?” He asked before he could think about it 

“I thought you already had breakfast.” You put your bow down to look at him 

He smiled sheepishly “I could never pass up the opportunity to drink more coffee and spend some time basking at your company.”

You felt heat spread through your cheeks. That was very smooth of him.

You nodded your head, agreeing to his idea of breakfast. You didn’t trust your voice to not betray you with your feelings for him if you spoke your agreement out loud.

You put your bow and arrows away, taking that time to gain control back of your emotions. This is Tim, the guy who doesn’t trust you enough to ask you questions about you himself - you had to remind yourself that. 

“I was thinking we could have breakfast at a cafe downtown.” He said, walking out of the cave with you “It is one of my favorite places, they have really good coffee.”

“Sure.” You smiled at him “I just need to get changed.”

Tim nodded, taking notice of your sports bra and leggings. He let his gaze linger on your body as you disappeared from his sight to go to your room to get dressed. 

After taking a quick shower and throwing on some clothes, and sunscreen on your face. You went down to meet Tim waiting for you.

You honestly had no idea what to expect from this breakfast with him. You were still weary of him after the conversation you overheard. You are still waiting for him to tell you, but apparently he wasn’t going to do so, and you are honestly disappointed.

Dating had always been a hard thing for you, considering your life and everything. You tried dating people you met at high school, but you couldn’t exactly say ‘hi, I can’t go on a date with you tonight because I am helping the Green Arrow fight a big threat to the city.’ Then again, most people were only interested in dating a Queen and not to exactly date you. And you also did try to date Connor, but it just didn’t work, you see each other too much as a family to have romantic feelings involved. 

And then you met Tim, and he was cute and sweet and pretty and soooo incredible. You really did think that maybe things would go right this time, but just like everyone else in your love life, he let you down. 

As you sat at the coffee shop, stirring your drink with a straw, you watched as Tim seemed way too nervous. He kept pushing his hair back and gripping on his cup.

“Are you ok?” You questioned, eyeing him suspiciously 

“Y-yeah. No.” He shook his head making you frown “There’s something you should know.” 

You nodded, motioning for him to keep talking. Whatever he was going to tell you, didn’t seem like it was a good thing. 

“I did something bad, something I really shouldn’t have done. And guilty has been eating me alive because I just can’t believe it I did it instead of taking to you.”

Oh. Oh. Oh. 

Is he going to tell you what you think he is going to tell you? 

"What did you do?" you asked quietly after a moment of silence 

Tim took a deep breath before looking into your eyes. It was now or never.

"After you told us about the League of Assassins thing, I realized I didn't know much about you, so instead of asking you what I wanted to know I looked you up and found out a lot of things about you. I am really sorry I treated you as some sort of criminal, it was not my intention and I realized that I shouldn't have done that the minute I finished doing it."

You kept quiet, processing his words. Although you already knew the truth, you are still trying to find out if he really means what he said. He didn't seem to be lying, and he does seemed very nervous to tell you that. 

"I already knew."

He blinked a few times, not fully comprehending what you had just said.

"I'm sorry, what?"

You smiled a little "I said I already knew what you did, Tim." you chuckled "I overheard you and your brothers talking in the kitchen."

"And you're not mad?" His eyes were wide, making him look adorable 

"Oh, I am more upset and disappointed than mad. I didn't say anything because I wanted to know if you were going to tell me, and I am glad you did."

He nodded his head, feeling a bit of relief, but also sad you are upset and disappointed with him. These are not good feelings. 

"I spent the last two week trying to find ways to tell you, none of them seemed good enough because what I did was really a shit action." He hesitantly grabbed your hand that was lying on top of the table, his cold fingers caressing your palm, making shivers go down your spine "I'm really sorry about what I did, y/n. And I totally understand if you don't want to talk to me anymore. I just need you to know that I am truly deeply sorry."

You smiled at him, squeezing his hand. Could this boy be more perfect? 

"It's ok, Timmy, I understand why you did what you did. In this line of work, you can't make mistakes, even if it means doubting people you shouldn't be doubting." You leaned over the table, pecking his cheek "I forgive you."

Tim seemed to be in a daze for a few seconds, processing your words and the kiss you just gave him. 

"Thank you. I don't know what I would do if you didn't want to talk to me anymore, I really like you."

His cheeks were tinted a dust pink and so were yours.

"I really like you, too."

To say you and Tim were living daydreaming after having admitted you two liked each other was an understatement. You were so happy that he liked you two that it didn't even occur to you that you said you liked each other and then did nothing about it. But Dick Grayson was having none of it.

"So you're telling me you told y/n that you like her and she said she likes you back, but you didn't kiss her or even asked her out on a proper date?" he had to refrain himself from yelling out in frustration 

He and Tim were standing together at a rooftop of an apartment building while on patrol. He asked his little brother how the two of you were doing, and although he was delighted to hear you both declared liking each other, he was very disappointed that was it. Nothing more happened.

"I was too busy making sure she didn't hate me after what I did." Tim shook his head, not believing his older brother was disappointed in him "I didn't know if I'd be rushing into things by kissing her after what I told her."

Dick nodded his head, heaving a sight "I know, I know. It is just that... Oh, there is so much sexual tension when you two are together, I just want you to kiss and be a happy sweet little couple together! Is that too much to ask?!"

The younger boy felt his cheeks heat up with what the other had said. There wasn't that obvious sexual tension between you two. Was there? Oh God, he hopes not, that would awkward for other people. Tim still remembers how he felt weird when Dick was pinning over Kori, the tension between them, the endless flirting and longing looks, it used to kill him to be in their presence with the Titans. He didn't want anyone to go trought what he did, and to know he was doing the same. The worst, or best, part was that he didn't even realize it because he was so enchanted by you that he didn't notice he was pinning over you that hard.

"I'll ask her to have dinner with me tomorrow." Tim settled with that, if you are still awake when he returns home from patrol then he will ask you out on a proper date, that's it 

"Good, and then I will help you prepare it!" the older boy grinned at his little brother

Before Tim could reply, telling him there was no need to do so, Jason cut their conversation short.

"Although, I love to hear about replacement's love life, there is still a job to be done." he said trough the coms "So if you could meet me that would be great. There is some fucked up shit here."

You didn't want to seem desperate, but you also couldn't help but stay awake waiting for Tim to return home after patrol. You had already talked for almost two hours on the phone with Connor, telling him everything that happened. Then you FaceTimed Oliver to see how his mission was doing, and proceeded to get very annoyed with the fact that he still refused to tell what the mission was, saying he would tell you everything once he gets back next week. 

You also tried sleeping, but you kept thinking about your brother's safety and then your thoughts would drift back to Tim and how you wished when you kissed his cheek, earlier today, that you had kissing him on the mouth instead. 

That left you wandering around the cave, telling Alfred you were just waiting for them to come back in case any of them were hurt and needed medical assistance. The butler knew you were just waiting for Tim to arrive, but didn't say anything, only gave you a knowing smile.

So when they all finally arrived home, you expected tired faces and sore muscles, not faces like they've seen ghosts. You frowned upon watching their expressions, did something happen? 

Bruce had a deep frown on his face and quickly dismissed Alfred when he asked him something. Damian went straight to the showers, Dick and Jason had lost looks on their faces, and Tim seemed deep in thought, almost missing the chair as he sat down to use the batcomputer, typing furiously in it. 

You bit your lower lip, it seemed like it had been a rough night. Thankfully none of them were hurt. 

"Hey." you said in a low tone, not really wanting to disturb Tim, but also wanting to give him some comfort "Everything alright?"

He turned to look at you, in his hurry to use the computer he didn't even took his mask off. You raised your hands, brushing some hair from his forehead, and then pulling the mask away from his face, reveling his blue eyes and deep bags. 

"Hi." he whispered, basking in your tender touch, you rubber his temple, trying to ease some tension "Just something that doesn't make sense."

You hummed, letting your hand go to his hair as you massaged his scalp with your fingernails. Tim closed his eyes, enjoining the sensation you were proportioning to him. He placed his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he smushed his face against your chest, listening to your heartbeat. After what he saw tonight, feeling your warmth and sweet touch were everything his needed. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" you questioned him, not wanting him to you trough this alone 

"It is not something nice, I'm not sure if..." you placed a kiss on top of his head and he almost melted against you "It is a really horrible thing to say, are you sure you want to know it?"

"Yes." you tilted his back so he could look you in the eyes "Tell me, you don't have to suffer alone." you kissed both of his cheeks 

Tim felt his insides burning, he wasn't used to so much affection. Of course, his brother Dick was a man of hugs, he loves to hug his brothers, but other than that, Tim is a pretty touch starved boy. He was almost sighing in contentment with your touch and kisses, he wanted nothing more than to just stay like this forever. 

"Ok." he pulled back from you, still keeping his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you down so you could sit on his thighs, he wanted to be able to look you in the eyes 

You smiled at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

So Tim proceeded to tell you what him and his family had seen tonight. The trail of bodies at the casino Jason asked them to meet him. All the blood and every single one of the people in there dead. How they all looked horribly, so many wounds, so many knives, arrows, bullets. It was honestly one of the worst things he had ever seen in his life - he was Red Robin and before that Robin, born and raised in Gotham, he had seen a lot of horrible things in his life, but what he saw tonight? It was absurd. 

All the time he was telling you the events, you kept a comforting hand on him, wether caressing his hair, or trailing patters on his arms. He was glad you were there, making him calm and come down from the high emotions he was feeling. 

"This sounds like something the League could do." you muttered

He shook his head "There was something off about that, it didn't look like the League of Assassins pattern."

"Maybe the League of Shadows?"

He shook his head again, staring at the computer screen across from you.

"Can you show me?" you asked, he frowned at you 

"I don't think you should see it, pretty bird. It really is horrible."

"Maybe I can help. Please."

He hesitantly pulled the pictures he took with his phone, showing the casino littered with bodies. Your small hands zoomed into the picture, watching it with close eye and disgust, it really was horrible. You were sure this would cloud your nightmares tonight. 

"I know this arrows." you said "Malcom Merlyn uses them."

"So you think this was a mercenary work?" he questioned, it did make a bit of sense, but it was so brutal the way they were killed

You shook your head. Still staring at the picture in front of you, a thousand of thoughts running trough your mind. Possibilites, theories, everything. You couldn't even bring yourself to conclude one thought before another came crashing down. 

Tim gripped at your hands before closing the picture. Staring at it would do you no good. He also didn't want to look at it anymore for now. 

You turned around to look at him, a frown adorning your face making him worry.

"Timmy, have you ever heard of the Ninth Circle?"