#she will live with hartley forever

[raynbow-shimmer]

In Which, Moon is Hartley's Favorite Rat

Hartley had many rats over the years, but out of them all, Moon had to be his favorite. Her red eyes and soft pink nose matched all the other rats in the testing cages, but there was something about her personality that drew Hartly toward her specifically. She was quick to notice things and ever so playful.

Hartley had already smuggled Moon out of Star Labs before the explosion, much to Harrison’s delight. Before he was ousted, he was indeed, Harrison’s Guy after all. And anything that delighted Hartley delighted Harrison. Moon was given the best setup Hartley could throw his money at. A huge cage, all the toys and chews he could find, and even a little rat car that Moon loved to drive around. “Stimulation is important for rats,” he would tell himself each time he brought home a new willow stick. He sometimes even brought her to work with him, unbeknownst to his cohorts. She never caused a fuss.

When Hartley was ousted from Star Labs, he lost everything. But not Moon. Moon was always there. She was getting older though, he knew. It would be time to say goodbye soon. Rats have such short lifespans. But then the accelerator went off and metahumans started popping up. The world went crazy and time flew by. But Moon didn’t die. She didn’t die and she didn’t die and she didn’t die. His best friend lived.

Hartley was confused at first. Rats definitely did not live more than 4 years, especially lab rats. But 4 years came, then 5, then 6. His best friend still greeted him every morning with enthusiasm and energy. It took some work, gathering up the supplies for a metahuman…metarat analysis. And sure enough, the gene was there. Moon was indeed a metarat. Her cells hadn’t aged a day. She was there, she was living and breathing. She was his friend, destined to live another day in spite of everything else that was going on around him.

Hatley loved his best friend. He did. And no one else seemed to quite understand it. Not David. Not the Star Labs crew. No one understood. Except for one person. Jerrie. His younger sister Jerrie. With all her wide-eyed glee and quiet love.

The first time Jerrie met Moon, she flapped her arms in unrestrained joy. Moon was sooooo small and sooooo cute. Jerrie could not get enough of her. And that brought Hartley joy. Jerrie immediately gave Moon a special sign name that only the two of them would know. More treats and toys followed Jerrie’s introduction to Moon. Moon was a spoiled rat. And Moon liked it that way.

Moon had one special friend. Someone who understood her most. It was Hartley. The man who had saved her. The man who had loved her most. And so if she got the honor of being his best friend, she would take it. After all, she knew what he was saying. All his fears and worries. All his highs and lows. Hartley spoke and Moon listened. If only she could speak back. But for now, she was content to be the first of The Piper’s rats.

[randomahhbrainrot]

Personas in the Woods: Social Links - Overview

Rather than forming relationships with characters that represent specific arcana in their lives and personal struggles, the Social Links in PitW would instead be a formative experience for Mae herself.

For example, with Gregg as the Magician Arcana, his Social Link won't involve Mae helping him through the struggle of immaturity, but rather Gregg showing Mae that they can't stay kids who break light poles forever. Just like in the original NitW, Gregg's route involves Mae realizing that Gregg and Angus are planning on moving on, and that they can't stay the same immature kids anymore.

Mae, being a deeply flawed individual herself, will be the one subject to change and learning through her Social Links, essentially taking on every arcana herself until the ending, when she would receive The World, and her final arcana.

That isn't to say that the person related to the Social Link can't grow themselves too, but this won't just be like the other games where the protagonist only watches/helps the person.

The Social Links are as follows (and are subject to change at any time):

The Fool - The Mysterious Janitor

The Magician - Gregg Lee

The Priestess - Pastor K.

The Empress - Candy Borowski (Mae's mom)

The Emperor - Angus Delaney

The Heirophant - Stan Borowski (Mae's dad)

The Lovers - Sadie, the saxophone player

The Chariot - Jen, Gregg's cousin

Justice - Saleem, the violin player

The Hermit - Lori Meyers

Fortune - Danny, the man with the zombie resume

Strength - Molly Borowski (Mae's aunt)

The Hanged Man - Bruce, the homeless drifter

Death - The Deep Hollow Hollerers

Temperance - Selma Ann Forester (Selmers)

The Devil - Steve Scriggins

The Tower - Germ Warfare/Jeremy Warton

The Star - Mr. Chazokov

The Moon - Casey Hartley

The Sun - Beatrice Santello

Judgement - Mae's investigation of the Black Goat cult

[inky-snowdrop]

Two Pairs of Star-Crossed Lovers

A Life Is Strange and Until Dawn Oneshot/Poem

Pairings: Chloe Price/Max Caulfield (Pricefield), Chris Hartley/Josh Washington (Climbing Class)

Rating: T (13+)

(canon typical violence)

Originally Posted on Ao3: May 16th, 2019

🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers

See the butterfly drift away with the breeze,

It’s wings beating lightly and without a sound,

Causally and lazily making it’s way out of their view.

Amongst the broken bottles and sweet grass,

Strewn out against the snow and wooden totems,

They laugh and flash toothy grins,

The tiny insect quickly forgotten as the sun begins to set.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers

Share a past prior to the events that have yet to unfold,

Becoming friends,

Accomplices to each other’s crimes,

As children, no less.

Blue permeates the soul’s of these children;

Two the color of the purest sky reflecting the bay’s water.

The others, an indigo darkness shrouded by fog and smoke

Hidden high in the mountains.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

Guardians of the light in the human spirit

And the darkness in the human soul.

Two within the past,

Changing what could not be changed

And visiting planes of reality not yet discovered nor explored by humankind.

Magic, the most pure and yet deadly kind, is their ally.

Two predicting the future,

Choices that seem small and insignificant

Carving into the lives of every person upon the accursed land.

Not magic, oh no.

Curses linger near, always watching, always listening.

Ghosting across the physical and mental worlds like a disease ready to take hold.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

From across the harbor and into the town,

Filled with a sticky heat and the smell of fire making love to the Earth,

Comes a celestial being and her magnificent gifts.

Powerful is she,

Auburn hair angular and good,

Time and space lingering upon her fingers.

She knows not how this power came to be hers,

And yet it still chose her.

Her other,

For there is always another,

Is a fallen angel,

Giant wings of butterfly blue growing from her spine and drifting into her hair to ravage wildly about her pale face.

They, the chosen and her angel, embody the world of the past,

Bravely trusting Fate herself to bring their dreams of being together to the light of day.

Sadly, Fate tends to have a sense of humor.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

Hailing from the frost lands of the North,

Where it is not uncommon for men, women, and children to betray their human nature,

A puppeteer watches quietly from the shadows as his trap has been laid.

Revenge plays heavily upon his string pulled mind,

Smile charming and deceiving, eyes shining and full of suffering,

None can see behind the laughs;

None can see the hatred that boils within.

Mistake number one.

The other,

Trusting and naive,

Hopelessly in love though destiny dictates otherwise,

Can read through the strings and gauze of his partener like one might read a book.

A ghost of his former body,

Sorrow binding and chaining him down to the Earth as he desperately claws for breath though he cannot give up hope;

He must never rest.

For what friend (what partener) would he be if he abandoned the puppeteer now?

Mistake number two.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

Each trapped forever,

In a never ending cycle of

What is,

What was, and

What will be.

Or, perhaps the most daunting of all,

What COULD be.

All four trapped in a web of their own design,

The vibrant azule wings that once held the aloft ripped and mangled at their feet.

All four embracing the storm that howls and shrieks at them,

Faces flushed from fear of the unknown and voices hoarse from screaming back at the wild rain and snow.

All four bonding through a love created in the innocence of childhood that was cultivated and fed as they aged;

The effects of their death-marked love not only echoing about their bedrooms with sighs and gasps, but also out into other places and other realities that go on forever.

All four sharing an early grave;

Hair wet and lips cracked and bleeding;

A concussed head and crushed limbs, if not completely ripped from their original homes.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

Destinies changing as rapidly as the wind changes course.

And as the storm dies, the screeching lowering to a hum during the afterglow of it’s rage,

It takes with it the souls of two of the children, their bodies physically broken or mutated beyond repair

And it takes the remaining children’s spirits, leaving them behind sobbing and hallowed remains of the people they used to be.

Forever craving,

Forever yearning,

Forever alone.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers

Await the beat of the butterfly’s wings

As the sun begins to rise,

Praying that the storm that will soon follow will not be their last.

And,

If it is,

Try to find solace in each other’s arms

One last time.

🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦

🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀

[kitkatt0430]

Season 6.5 Flash AU

So the universe is rebooted and Iris is now married to Eddie. Which is fine because she was married to Eddie pre-reboot too. Barry, however, was dating Hartley. Barry had an engagement ring he was planning to give Hartley if they survived crisis since, well, he didn't want to pull a Xander Harris and make Hartley think he was only proposing because he thought they were all gonna die.

But the universe reboots and... Hartley's just gone. No Hartley. No hidden ring. Barry lives somewhere else entirely. It's hell. And then in trying to find Hartley - because of course he does, immediately, hello? That's his boyfriend/love of his life, of course Barry's looking for him to fix things... only...

Barry learns about Roderick and how when his lightning combined with Hartley's sonic tech, it sent Roderick into an out of phase state that was incredibly painful and was 'solved' by putting him into stasis like sleeping beauty. Hartley is still in love with this guy and, understandably, loathes Barry over it.

And Barry's heartbroken, resolves to just... stay away from Hartley. Of course then the Godspeed problem happens and the only person who can help??? is Hartley.

Things play out similar to canon, but weirder because of course Barry is making it weirder. Hartley is like 'is the Flash a little homophobic or...' and Cisco is just like 'no he's bi but he lost his boyfriend recently just back the fuck off' like a good bestie. And naturally Hartley uses his super-eavesdropping powers and learns that he! is the boyfriend! the Flash just lost.

He is reeling from the revelation and still winds up saving Barry's life while trying to figure out what the actual fuck is he supposed to do about what he knows. Pretend he doesn't? Does he go back to his life with his newly woken up boyfriend that he's spent five years pining for and just... pretend not to know the Flash is in love with him?

Like, of course he's not ditching Roderick. He's spent five years waiting for Roderick and he'd have spent his whole life waiting for Roderick if he had to, but... he cannot pretend that he didn't hear that.

So he tells Roderick, figuring they'll just... steer clear of the Flash from now on, it won't be weird right???

Roderick - I mean we could avoid him for forever, it'd probably be pretty easy to do so. Or, and I am being serious, we could just... seduce him and have a polyamorous relationship with him?

Hartley - I've spent five years hating him over what happened to you.

Roderick - Yeah, but it was really all three of our faults and you don't hate you or me over it, right?

Hartley - ... I don't hate you over it.

Roderick - Okay so self loathing issues to work on helping you get over. Alrighty, good to know. So do we want another hot guy in this relationship or what?

And thus operation Seduce the Flash is go.

Naturally they smack face first into the problem that is Barry Allen's true super power, the power of obliviousness.

[coldflash-corner]

Worldbuilding/Etc: My Soulmate AU [1]

-My asks are open, so feel free to send asks if you want me to make a post abt something specific in this AU, whether mentioned in this post or otherwise

-In a reincarnation scenario, soulmates can change. In the case of Kendra and Carter, theirs have never changed before, so in most lives they believed that theirs could never actually change. This is wrong. Kendra's soulmate is not Carter Hall

-Connected to above: It is so extremely rare that people don't even think it's possible in some areas, but sometimes someone can have a soulmate but not be their soulmate. Which can be an interesting time for everyone involved, especially if there are romantic feelings in the mix

-Mick Rory does not currently have a soulmate, and has no memories of every having one. He has oft thought fire to be his soulmate, in a way, because watching the flames makes him feel warm, like there are flames under his skin

-^^in a synesthesia way not a horny way. Please do not be weird about the fire, I'm just a little guy (/lh)

-People can sometimes get a new soulmate after theirs died, but it's not overly common in the mortal communities. Much more common in the immortal circles

-Soulmates of time travelers can use heartbeat and what they know of their partner to figure out if they're talking to the version of their partner who is synced with their part of the timeline, or if they're from the past/future

-Having multiple soulmates simultaneously is possible, and can make some things confusing/fun

-Iris and Eddie are soulmates, but they took forever to tell each other their suspicions bc they didn't want to look like they were moving too fast or pressuring the other into anything

-The author of this AU keeps trying to give Barry 2 platonic soulmates on top of his soulmateship with Snart, but is actively choosing not to even when their brain is pouting about it

-Caitlin's soulmate is Ronnie Raymond. She's had... a time.

-Lisa had a soulmate, who she met when she was fifteen and they were dating until she was 16. This was another girl her same age, who lived in her neighborhood. Unfortunately, she died when they were 16, and Lisa took a while to come even close to recovering from that

-Lisa is especially attracted to Cisco because she thinks he also does not have a soulmate. He... technically does... but they aren't together right now and there doesn't seem to be any future plans of them being together, so he has forced the possibility out of his mind and pretends he doesn't have one

-Mark and Clyde Mardon are an example of platonic soulmates who are siblings

-Joe's soulmate was not his wife and he knows who they are, but he firmly Does Not Talk About Them. Iris and Barry both firmly know that topic is Completely Off Limits and never bring it up

-Hartley hasn't knowingly met his soulmate yet. They're still alive! So maybe one day they'll meet

-Fun Fact: Hartley once thought that his soulmate might be Dr. Wells, because the man seemed to have an eerie ability to track his emotions, but eventually realized that was wishful thinking and that this was definitely not the case

-Barry knew he and Snart were soulmates before Snart knew Barry Allen was the Flash. He didn't know how to approach this, so this led to him just turning Golden Retriever energy to 11 and hoping for the best

-Time travel and dramatically changed timelines can alter soulmate connections ^-^

-People are more likely to be soulmates with people in their general region than otherwise, but it is rarely possible to have a soulmate across the world

-There are "Find My Soulmate" apps where people can be like "Hey I had a panic attack at this time and it lasted for x minutes, did anyone feel that?" or "Hi! I play soccer, has anyone had elevated soulmate heart rate consistently on these days and times as if said soulmate is engaging in physical activity?" and other such things

-Sometimes when a person on a sports team meets a person through those apps who almost CERTAINLY is soulmates with a member of their sports team, they all run experiments together to make sure it's the right one

-If a time or dimension traveler without a soulmate time/dimension travels, there is a small chance they can become soulmates with a non-soulmate-haver in the area. Which can make things fun and spicy for everyone involved!

-Eobard Thawne had a soulmate in his future, but he killed them because the bitch got ISSUUEESS

-^^He was always on the lookout for that telltale heartbeat, in case the time travel fuckery gave him a new soulmate. It never did. But there was someone that he had wished, for sometime, that he would be given that connection with. It's so much better for the other person that it never did. (It couldn't have, really, bc their soulmate was still alive technically, but it's Really Good that it didn't nonetheless)

-Joe had really really wanted Iris and Barry to be soulmates, ever since they were little kids. And he didn't completely handle it well when he learned, without a shadow of a doubt, that they were not.

[critical-quoter]

September Books

(We're just going to continue this set up of my books read. It's so much easier and I'm so lazy.)

Read Me - Lauren Connolly ⭐⭐⭐⭐ The Ex I'd Love to Hate - Nadia Lee ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Distance - Luna Mason ⭐⭐⭐ Detonate - Luna Mason ⭐⭐ The Court the Fae Forgot - Eden Beck ⭐⭐⭐⭐ The Heir the Fae Forgot - Eden Beck ⭐⭐ Psycho Shifters - Jasmine Mas ⭐⭐⭐ The Viridian Priestess - Katarina Calandra ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Ruin and Roses - Deanna Ortega ⭐⭐ Burn for Jack - Aiden Pierce ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Nora's Kraken - Leigh Miller ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ The Never King - Nikki St. Crowe ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ The Dark One - Nikki St. Crowe ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Their Vicious Darling - Nikki St. Crowe ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ The Fae Princes - Nikki St. Crowe ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ The Brightest Light of Sunshine - Lisina Coney ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Finding You - Lena Hendrix ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ The Book of G - Lily Archer ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ River of Shadows - Karina Halle ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Crown of Crimson - Karina Halle ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Disgrace - Brittainy C. Cherry ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ City of Thorns - C. N. Crawford ⭐⭐⭐ The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue - V. E. Schwab ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Thieves and Monsters - Clio Evans ⭐⭐⭐ No Saint - Ria Wilde ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Furbidden Attraction - R. O'Leary ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Between Commitment and Betrayal - Shain Rose ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Cold-Hearted King - L. M. Dalgleish ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Shattered Vows - Shain Rose ⭐⭐⭐ Power of Five - Alex Lidell ⭐⭐ The Unwanted Marriage - Catharina Maura ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Irreplaceable - Jenna Hartley ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Captive of Wolves - Eva Chase ⭐⭐ The Darkest Note - Nelia Alarcon ⭐ Rouge - Greer Rivers ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Divine Rivals - Rebecca Ross ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ My True Love - Melissa Foster ⭐⭐⭐⭐ You Only Love Once - Emily James ⭐ Captured - Rosa Lee ⭐ Contempt - A. Zavarelli ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Nights of Iron and Ink - Shannon Durey ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Contractually Yours - Nadia Lee ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Long Live - V. B. Lacey ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Owned by the Italian Mafia Don - Rosalie Rose ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Fifth Avenue Fling - Rosa Lucas ⭐⭐⭐ When She Falls - Gabrielle Sands ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Luck - Daisy Allen ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Limits - Susie Tate ⭐⭐⭐ Inevitable - Kelly Kelsey ⭐⭐ Loner - Harloe Rae ⭐⭐⭐⭐ The Taste of Revenge - Veronica Lancet ⭐⭐⭐ The Foiled Plan - Veronica Lancet ⭐⭐⭐ Nomad's Bride - Rachel Cade ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Forever After All - Catharina Maura ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ The Devil's Bargain - Carin Hart ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Dirty Truths - Brittanee Nicole ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Extra Dirty - Brittanee Nicole ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ An Inconvenient Marriage - A. K. MacBride ⭐⭐⭐ Unperfect - Susie Tate ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Unworthy - Susie Tate ⭐⭐⭐ And Then Came You - M. L. Broome ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Flawless - Elsie Silver ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Heartless - Elsie Silver ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Powerless - Elsie Silver ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Wicked Beautiful Lies - L. A. Ferro ⭐⭐⭐ Fractured Freedom - Shain Rose ⭐⭐⭐⭐

66 total books read for September 2023

[elle-stuart]

✦ DANIELLE CAMPBELL, CIS WOMAN, SHE / HER ✦ ELEANOR STUART the TWENTY-SEVEN year old has been in Hidehill for ENTIRE LIFE and was a STRANGER to Miyeon Kang, the murder victim. Whispers on the streets are that the OWNER OF BLOOMING TRAILS who lives in HARTLEY AVENUE are said to be WELCOMING and PESSIMISTIC but I guess we’ll find out for ourselves. { ASPEN, 28, PST, SHE/HER. }

CHARACTER BASICS:

FULL NAME: Eleanor James Stuart

NICKNAME(S): Elle, Ellie

AGE: Twenty-Seven

GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Female, She/Her

FACECLAIM: Danielle Campbell

EYE COLOR: Grey/Blue

HAIR COLOR: Brown

HEIGHT: 5′6″

DOB: April 17th

OCCUPATION: Owner of Blooming Trails Floral Shop

HOMETOWN: Hidehill

CHARACTER INFO:

Eleanor prefers to go by Ellie, her full name being far too formal for her daily life. 

Eleanor’s parents are divorced and have been since she was a small girl. She lived with her mother in Hidehill growing up, but was a quiet child who mostly kept to herself and was reading books. 

Her mother’s family is a wealthy old money family who have lived in the area forever. The pressure to be this ‘perfect’ daughter was overwhelming once Ellie reaching high school, that’s when she asked to go live with her father in Florida. 

She attended high school in Florida for 3 years before returning to Hidehill for her senior year because her father took a job overseas. 

After graduation she attended college in the area, getting a degree in business management. 

She’d often travel to Europe to visit her father. 

Ellie always loved flowers and gardening. She had a knack for making beautiful arrangements for her own house and decided to make that her career. 

Her mother helped her purchase a small shop in Hide Square where she spent months working on making it look exactly how she wanted. Welcoming, bright and joyful. 

Even though she is now a business owner in the community she tries her best to stay out of the drama of the smalltown. 

Lately she’s been trying more and more to have a social life outside of her work. Reconnecting with old friends from her school years, and making new friends. 

To strangers and people who don’t know Ellie, she comes off as a quiet nice girl but get to know her and she has a sharp tongue and quick wit that can rival the best of them. 

MORE COMING SOON. 

[joyffree]

Derek’s world is about to change forever—again.

Mistletoe in the City A Steamy New Adult Holiday Romance by Amber Daulton

After his father’s stroke, Derek Weston dropped out of college and returned home to help his parents with the family business, Oak Landing Apartments. Now living on the premises as the groundskeeper and handyman, he never expected the girl he’d secretly crushed on in high school to move into a unit right before Christmas or stir up desires he thought long gone.

Krista Hartley needs a fresh start away from her overbearing parents, but falling for the tattooed hottie who ignored her back in school wasn’t in the plans. Despite old hurts, Derek’s hot kisses and strong arms offer the shelter she craves.

When another woman sets her sight on Derek and drives a wedge between him and Krista, they’ll have to decide if their relationship is real, or just a winter fling.

@amberdaulton @AmberDaulton1 @amberdaulton5

[vinceviralfreak]

Title: Blood and Glory: The Battle of London

Chapter 1: The Awakening

In the heart of London, a sinister presence lurked beneath the shadows. A coven of powerful female vampires had taken residence in the city, preying on innocent souls under the cover of darkness. Their reign of terror had gone unnoticed for far too long, until a group of extraordinary women stepped into the ring to challenge their malevolent rule.

Chapter 2: The Call to Arms

Amidst the chaos, a renowned wrestling promoter named Victoria "Vixen" Hartley sensed an opportunity to showcase the strength and resilience of women. She gathered a team of fierce and skilled female wrestlers from around the world, each with their own unique abilities and fighting styles. Together, they formed the "Vixens of Steel," a force to be reckoned with.

Chapter 3: The Training Ground

Under Victoria's guidance, the Vixens of Steel underwent rigorous training to prepare for their ultimate showdown against the vampires. They honed their combat skills, both in the ring and out, learning ancient techniques and arming themselves with silver-infused weapons. Their determination and unity grew stronger with each passing day.

Chapter 4: The Battle Begins

As the sun set over London, the Vixens of Steel ventured into the vampire-infested streets. The city was eerily quiet, save for the distant sound of their adversaries' hissing and growling. The first clash was brutal, as the vampires, with their supernatural strength and speed, proved to be formidable opponents. But the Vixens fought back with unwavering resolve, using their wrestling prowess to outmaneuver their foes.

Chapter 5: The Unleashing of Powers

As the battle raged on, the Vixens of Steel tapped into their hidden potential. One wrestler, known as "Phoenix," discovered her ability to control fire, engulfing the vampires in flames. Another, "Shadowcat," possessed the power to become invisible, striking her enemies with deadly precision. The vampires, taken aback by these unexpected powers, struggled to maintain their dominance.

Chapter 6: The Final Showdown

The Vixens of Steel pushed deeper into the vampire lair, determined to eradicate the evil that plagued London. They faced the coven's leader, a seductive and powerful vampire queen named Lilith. With her hypnotic gaze and lethal fangs, Lilith proved to be the most formidable adversary yet. But the Vixens fought with unparalleled bravery, refusing to back down.

Chapter 7: Triumph and Redemption

In a climactic battle, the Vixens of Steel managed to defeat Lilith, severing her hold over London. The city was finally free from the clutches of darkness. The women wrestlers had not only proven their physical prowess but also their indomitable spirit and unwavering unity. They had become true heroes, inspiring women around the world to embrace their strength and fight for what they believed in.

Epilogue: A New Era

With the vampires vanquished, the Vixens of Steel returned to the wrestling ring, their fame and reputation skyrocketing. They continued to inspire and empower women, proving that they were more than just entertainers. The battle against the vampires had forever changed their lives, and they vowed to use their newfound platform to champion the cause of equality and justice.

And so, the legend of the Vixens of Steel lived on, reminding the world that women could be both warriors and heroes, capable of overcoming any obstacle that stood in their way.

[sadiegauthierrp]

Meet Sadie

✦ ANNE HATHAWAY, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER ✦ SADIE GAUTHIER the FOURTY year old has been in Hidehill for TEN YEARS. Whispers on the streets are that the OWNER OF BLOOMING TRAILS who lives in HARTLEY AVENUE  are said to be AMBITIOUS and OBSESSIVE but I guess we’ll find out for ourselves. { MANDY, 36, PST, SHE/HER }

full name: sadie louise gauthier gender and pronouns: cisfemale she/her age and dob: 40, November 12 1982 residence: hartley avenue time living in hidehill: 10 years occupation: owner of blooming trails faceclaim: Anne Hathaway positive attributes: ambitious, independent, protective negative attributes: obsessive, perfectionist, recovering alcoholic

BACKGROUND

The most consistant praise throughout Sadie's childhood was that she was such a well tempered, happy child. It seemed as if anger were an emotion she simply couldn't hold onto for more than a few fleeting moments. She slept through the night the day her parent's brought her home from the hospital, seemed to skip the terrible twos and threes stages that everyone warned about. Even the hormonal preteen and teen stages had been shockingly easy, growing pains and first heartbreaks lead to soft tears and her pouring her heart out to a safe place. But she was never angry. Tired yes, anxious, sad, lonely, annoyed...but never that anger that roiled in your belly, that made your body temperature rise. Her truest true love was botany, she was only five when her mother began letting her take control of the garden, her green thumb having made itself known. She could save a plant moments away from demise, could coax buds out of the most stubborn soil.

In college she met Levi, who seemed to be as unable to hold onto anger as she was. He was the epitome of a golden retreiver boyfriend, in school to become a veterinarian. The kindest, most genuine soul she'd ever known. They'd only been twenty-three when they got engaged, but Sadie had been so sure down to her bones that he was her forever person. Forever shattered three days before Thanksgiving, when the phone rang and ruined every future she'd ever hoped for. An attempted mugging, once of so many in New York City...but this one had ended with a knife slicing through arteries...with Levi's blood staining the sidewalk well before an ambulance could get there.

Sadie finally knew anger. An anger that ate pits into her spirit, that felt like it was rearranging her very bones. She'd always been a one glass of wine with dinner woman, but now she was wine...tequila...vodka slipped into her orange juice at work. Functioning sober hurt too badly and so she just stopped doing it. It took two years for the people around her to start realizing she was in trouble, to start fighting for her in a way she was not willing to fight for herself. At the time she hated them for it, wanted them to let her drink herself into oblivion. But when her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, she finally went to rehab. It was a deal she made with god. Don't let her mother die and Sadie would be the best damn recovered alcoholic, the picture perfect of a person coming back from the edge. And damned if her mother didn't make it to remission a year later.

A relapse hit Sadie shortly after, and it took another year for her to admit she needed to go back to rehab. At 30 she realized that maintaining sobriety in New York was not a realistic option for her. She couldn't keep healing when she felt like she was living in the empty imprint of the life she was supposed to have with Levi. It didn't make sense...why Nashville of all places called her. Or maybe it did make sense...that the little town of hidehill, chugging along trying to shake off the darkness of it's past history would feel like the right place for her to reclaim a new future for herself. Blooming Trails became her pride and joy as she set up shop in the town, which was truly beginning to put itself on the map again when she was first settling in.

If she'd known that darkness and death was going to turn out to be inescapable maybe she would have just let the liquor have her. But these days she clings to the obsessive need to be the perfect recovered alcoholic no matter how badly the world around her is burning down.

[coloradohq]

WELCOME TO DENVER, ella! you’ve been accepted as connor hartley (JAMIE DORNAN)! please have your account sent in within 24 hours; don’t forget your CHECKLIST!

ELLA, 25, CST; SHE/HER. | if you’re hearing LIVE FOREVER by OASIS playing, you have to know CONNOR HARTLEY (HE/HIM; CIS MALE) is near by! the THIRTY-SIX year old SPORTS AGENT has been in denver for, like, A MONTH. they’re known to be quite IMPETUOUS, but being RESILIENT seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble JAMIE DORNAN. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those PILE OF UNREAD BOOKS, SCREAMING TO THE TV WHILE WATCHING SPORTS AND TAKING UNEXPECTED ROADTRIPS vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the DOWNTOWN DISTRICT long enough!

[authortiffanycarby]

Now live! Claus and Effect (Claus for Christmas/Celebration Series, Book One) by Chloe James mybook.to/GetClausandEffect Ho ho ho? More like bah humbug. I’m not a fan of Christmas – I have reasons – and my sister knows this. She, however, doesn’t suffer the same affliction. It’s her favorite holiday and she always goes overboard. This year, though, her Santa is sick and she’s scrambling to find a replacement. When she can’t, she looks to me. Knowing I can’t deny her anything, I agree to put on the red suit and a cheerful smile with the mantra that it’s only for a few hours. Then I meet Mena Hartley, the Mrs. to my Mr., and what had initially felt like forever now doesn’t seem long enough. It's the most wonderful time of the year! At least, in my opinion. And yes, the fact I get to participate in the annual celebration, namely playing the wife to the leader of the elves, is a huge part of that. Turner Mitchell, the man tasked with playing my husband? I'll consider him a bonus. Multiple authors are bringing you sweet, clean Christmas romance books to fill you up with holiday cheer! √ Christmas √ Love √ Joy √ Family √ Lots of romance https://www.instagram.com/p/CmzZtEwv1GQ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[miidnighters]

Hartley will never get enough of the way he looks at her - would never dream of calling him pathetic for giving her this, if the pleased sound she lets out when he lifts her is anything to go by. The feeling is intoxicating - Hartley could live in this moment forever.

After, when they're sweaty and sated (and sated, and sated), Hartley lays curned into his side, not bothering to pull up a blanket and shameless in her nakedness. She draws idle patterns on the skin of his chest, watching the slow rise and fall of his breathing.

A stifled groan. Her lips are so goddamn soft, so warm, so insistent. She wants him? Well, she has him already: loyal, pliant, pathetic, willing to obey and to heel. ❛ Y—yeah? ❜ Her forwardness shouldn't shock him by now, but she still manages to find ways to constantly sneak past his guard. ❛ Yeah, ❜ he tries again, more confident, though he's swallowing hard with eyes locked on hers. It might be a struggle to initiate, but he can at least do this: fulfill a request, follow a command. So he sweeps her legs into his arms, has her tucked against his chest within the space of one, measured breath, and offers the barest hint of a grin. And then he's stepping through the door, clicking it shut with the heel of one boot.

[geekcavepodcast]

Spotify Announces New Audio Series “Harley Quinn & The Joker: Sound Mind”

The second Spotify / DC / Warner Bros. audio series is all about renowned psychologist Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Harley Quinn & The Joker: Sound Mind is developed, written, and directed by Eli Horowitz. Matthew Derby and Rachel Khong will also contribute to the script. Christina Ricci stars as Harley with Billy Magnussen as the Joker and Justin Hartley as Batman. Realm will handle physical production on the audio series.

Harley Quinn & The Joker: Sound Mind is an original story told from Harley’s perspective. “When listeners meet Harley, she’s still Dr. Harleen Quinzel, a gifted psychologist at Arkham Asylum in Gotham City determined to help the patients her colleagues have written off. But her dad is sick and in need of an expensive life-saving operation Harleen can’t afford. So, when she meets “Patient J,” a unique criminal who seems to have a strange power over everyone but her, Harleen makes a fateful decision: to use her relationship with J to get what she needs, leading both of them down a dangerous path that will change their lives forever.” (DC Comics)

[captainsimagines]

hunting the fates || two

Summary: When the repercussions of giving up your Immortality come back to haunt you, a journey to Hell seems to be the only solution. With the help of your friends, both old and new, you set out on a journey to destroy the three Fates who have messed with your life long enough. There you discover that your power extends further than you ever thought possible, as does the Winter Soldier’s.

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x (Fem) POC Enhanced Reader; Sam Wilson x Female Original Character

Trope(s): Fantasy/Mythology/Horror; Soulmates/Mates; Angst/Fluff/Smut; Bisexual! Bucky Barnes; Multiple POV’s

Based on the Song(s): ‘Power’ by Isak Danielson ; ‘Breakfast’ by Dove Cameron ; ‘Darkside’ by Neoni ; ‘Bow - Slowed’ by Reyn Hartley

AO3 Link

Warnings: mention of infertility; strong language; sexual tension; mentions of slavery and curses; inaccurate Greek mythology; slow build-up to more extreme plot (lol)

Word Count: 4,960+

Author’s Note: Slow world building, but it picks up tremendously after this chapter! Don’t worry! Sorry about no Hades this chapter. I miss him too lol xxMoni

~

Sam wandered, and wandered, turned right, and wandered some more.

He wasn’t armed with anything remotely dangerous—when Bucky called he dropped the television remote and sprinted the whole way to the restaurant. The second he threw open the doors, however, he had realized he forgot the shield. And his wings. And a gun.

So Sam made do with what was provided to him in his extravagant suite, taking a hanger from the closet—closets, really—and pulling the metal cord from inside. Bending and twisting it into what Sam would embarrassingly compare to a shank, he now held it firm in his right hand while his left carried a candle in its holder. He immediately regretted asking you for book recommendations from the 19th century all those months ago, because now he can’t stop comparing himself to Jane fucking Eyre.

He just hopes he doesn’t run into Hades’s estranged, tormented wife along the way.

The hallways were decorated with some of the most beautiful artwork Sam had ever seen. Pieces that rivaled the greats, pieces that were from the greats—all in a Renaissance or Baroque style. Which made sense considering the Renaissance era focused heavily on Greek and Roman mythology.

On his fourth right turn, however, Sam stopped to behold a painting that was unlike the others. Not as vibrant, not as large, not as commanding. A simple piece, but one Sam believed was hidden between all the rest on purpose.

The painting depicted a woman with striking red hair that could easily be mistaken for orange, tied back but allowed to run wild. Although her gaze was solemn, it wasn’t entirely pitiful. Something else shined in her eyes, curiosity and patience perhaps. She held a single pomegranate, and with the other hand held her own wrist.

Sam had passed dozens of paintings depicting war, love, and peace. And in all of those, not one depicted Hades’s other half. Where was Persephone? Thor had mentioned that this current Hades had been sitting on the throne for over six hundred years, which meant there was someone before him. But don’t Gods live forever? And if not, is this Hades the offspring of the Hades before him?

A theory clicked: Maybe Persephone has just not been born yet. And since the physical descriptors for each Hades have been spot-on with the dark blue eyes, pale skin, and blue fire, maybe the next Persephone is a red-head.

“I told you the locks were on the inside, Birdling.”

Sam jumped and stumbled backward, the hand holding the shank reaching up to clench at his shirt. “Fuck!”

Elva rolled her eyes but turned to the portrait of Persephone. With her arms crossed, she joked, “There are so many red-heads down here in Hell, and Hades has been through them all.”

Sam rubbed at his chest, huffing gently. “Like…Through them, through them?”

Elva shrugged. “He’s a sexual being. Of course he’s fucked them all.”

Sam grunted, looking at her and down the hallway he supposed she came from. When she reached up to swipe the hair from her face, Sam took note of the chain bracelets. Anger simmered in the pit of his stomach and he found himself asking, “Has he touched you?”

Elva turned to him and snorted. “I would hope not. He is my uncle.”

Sam, ignoring the way his stomach settled way too quickly from her response, lifted an eyebrow. “We’re talking about Greek mythology here. Zeus literally married and fucked his own sister.”

“Yes, well, the Hades I know isn’t as demented.”

Sam continued to stare at the chains. Whether Elva noticed his gaze or not, she didn’t comment. Was she a slave? She acted way too casual around him, around the palace, around Hades himself. He didn’t order her around, nor did he attach a leash between the rings of metal. Besides, slaves weren’t usually given a sword and an opportunity to speak.

“Where were you heading?” Elva asked, following him down the hallway as he continued on.

Sam lifted the candle higher, checking the ceilings for spider-webs or loose demons. Banishing demons from his mind, Sam focused on the spider-web portion of his worries. Would Shortcake’s message get back to Peter? How much time had passed from the portal to now?

At least Sam knows Peter will keep Alpine fed. And when he, Shortcake, and Bucky aren’t home soon, Peter will contact Margot, Berenice, and Thor immediately.

“I was just getting to know my surroundings.”

Elva hummed, unconvinced. “You won’t find an escape route, you know. There are tunnels underneath this palace even I wouldn’t dare map.”

“Good to know.” He didn’t pay her a glance as he spoke. He could feel her beside him, anyway. Her golden hair bounced and her leathers made the barest of noise. It was the sword at her hip that clanged each time the steel locket of the scabbard hit her belt. As if noticing it, Elva placed her hand on the sword’s pommel, holding it still.

“Why aren’t your friends with you?”

Sam turned into another hallway, nearly barreling into Elva as she stepped in front of him. He glanced down at her, noticing her close proximity, meeting her eyes.

Those red, red eyes.

Was she a vampire? She was an Immortal, but her teeth were normal. Plus, she hadn’t tried sinking her teeth into his neck yet. Everything else about her screamed soldier. A woman who took pleasure in wielding that sword, and driving it through flesh.

“You are staring.”

Sam flushed, and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’ve never met anyone with such interesting eyes.”

Elva gave him a small, downward smile. “A backhanded compliment.”

Sam quickly recovered, “I’ve never met anyone with red eyes.”

“Oh? You’ve never met a Blood Elementalist?”

“Up until a few months ago, I hadn’t realized I met an Earth one.”

“Ah,” Elva sighed. “I guess there’s an explanation. Elementalists of all kinds have gone into hiding more recently. Demons prowl your human lands more often than you think.”

Sam shuddered. “Don’t remind me.” Then, playing it casual by continuing down the hallway, he asked, “What is it that a Blood Elementalist like you can do?”

Elva followed him, her expression one of subdued displeasure. “I have not been able to wield my powers for seven hundred years.”

That made Sam halt his steps. “Seven hundred?”

She raised her wrists.

Sam clenched his jaw tight. Looking across both sides of the hallway, he stepped forward and silently declared, “If I find a way out of here…come with us.”

Elva studied his face slowly, her fiery eyes moving from left to right and downward. Scrunching her eyebrows, Elva asked, “What is it that you’re thinking?”

“That Hades has you trapped here, restraining your power, and forcing you to be his right-hand.”

Elva shook her head, as if his words were intrusive. “Hades is not my captor. His father was.”

“He hasn’t released you—”

“Because he cannot.”

Sam waited, taking the time to study her face as well. Her creamy skin was the slightest bit tanned, her lips were more pink than red, and her neck contained one mole—one brown mole that rightfully disturbed the expanse of clear skin.

“I am the offspring of the current Poseidon and a Blood Elementalist. Therefore, I am his niece. But Hades’s father had not yet been killed, and he is the one who enslaved me for daring to point a sword at him. He did not order the Fates to curse me—they did it themselves.”

Sam rolled it over in his head as quickly as he could. If he didn’t solve the order of those words in the next five seconds with Elva staring directly into his soul, he might never recover.

This current Hades had a father, but he was not the brother of the current Poseidon.

This current Hades is related to the current Poseidon. They’re brothers. Without the same father?

Elva is Poseidon’s daughter. Hades is her uncle.

One more time—

“Did you think I was his slave?”

Sam’s lips thinned as he blushed. “In all honesty, I could have thought worse.”

Elva’s lips twitched in amusement, and her red eyes flashed gold for a quick second. But Sam caught it, and he swore the flecks resembled confetti.

Elva turned, looking over her shoulder as she instructed, “Follow me, Birdling. If you want to know the palace, then the palace shall know you.”

Armed with his makeshift knife and a permanent embarrassed pit in his stomach, Sam did as he was told.

~

     “Oh! He could be exploring the catacombs! Or the Styx—everyone wants to see the Styx! Maybe the Prison of Demons—”

Bucky choked on a breath. “Sam’s an idiot but he’s not that much of an idiot to willingly go there.”

Bucky’s right. Sam wouldn’t stray too far without knowing how to return to his room. And when Bucky calls him an idiot, it’s more a term of endearment than anything else.

But this.

Sam was a complete idiot for this.

“I think we’ll stick with the places closest to his room, Wenrel. Thank you,” you said softly, smiling at the water sprite ahead of you. She had leapt from your shoulder a while ago and has been skipping along the red carpet of the hallway instead, guiding you and Bucky. Bucky made sure to keep his steps in time with yours, especially when Wenrel whipped around once and Bucky nearly stepped on her.

“The library is close by! But Maxwell’s probably down there sulking and he’s no fun when he’s sulking.”

“Sulking over what?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know this time. He usually tells me everything.”

“You and Maxwell are friends?”

Wenrel nodded, and hopped onto the nearest stair railing. “He’s my bestest friend!” And with that, she slid all the way to the bottom.

“She’s really cute,” Bucky whispered to you as he watched Wenrel flip and land on a table against the wall. But the water sprite proved to have way more advanced hearing than you thought.

“Don’t call me cute!” Wenrel ordered before you even had the chance to respond to Bucky.

Bucky’s cheeks reddened. “Sorry.”

“I know my size is cute and I sound high-pitched, but I was once her size!” She wagged a tiny finger toward you.

“Then…Why are you—”

“Tiny?” Wenrel finished. “It all ties back to those damned Fates! I was a full-sized water nymph, but when I refused Poseidon's advances, he asked the Fates to place a curse on me so no man could ever touch me again!”

“Poseidon?” Bucky stuttered, amazed.

“Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, yes. Before your time, before Maxwell’s, before my Hades even took the throne.”

My Hades.

Wenrel huffed, swiping at her face. Her hand looked as if it touched real skin however, as if she was truly tangible. She ringed her arm back and gathered her floating hair into a ponytail, holding it tight over her shoulder. “I’m going to Maxwell in the library. Maybe Sammy’s there. You’re welcome to follow.”

Wenrel hopped to the floor and ran down the hall, her elvish feet meeting the ground as if on lily pads.

Bucky scrunched his nose. “I think I offended her.”

“I think you did.”

Bucky snorted, wiping his face with his metal hand. “Do you want to follow her?”

You shrugged. “Sam loves libraries, but he loves mystery more.”

“Books contain mystery.”

“Not the kind he can find on his own trail.”

You and Bucky traveled through the palace on light feet, studying your surroundings and joking along the way.

Can’t Hades choose one damn theme?

I think the theme is Gothic-chic. Or medieval.

To very distinct things, Goddess.

And—

The night crew look happy. How many rooms do you think the palace has?

…Thirty.

Wha—? Buckingham Palace has 52 bedrooms alone, James!

It was a rough estimate.

Which led to the conversation you were having now as you pointed out yet another bedroom during the tour. “I think that’s twenty so far. And we haven’t even climbed down a flight of stairs.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. He had turned the safety back on his gun and was currently twirling it around his metal fingers. “Whatever. You think they’re occupied?”

“Dare you to knock.”

“And come face to face with Apollo himself? You dream, Shortcake.”

You squinted, smiling as you bit down on your bottom lip. “Does Apollo get it going for you?”

“You know what gets me going,” Bucky mumbled, still not meeting your gaze.

Something greedy swooped in your stomach. What in the world was happening? It took you six months to even want to try something serious with Bucky, six months of casual flirting that led nowhere, six months of guilt and shame.

Every time you had thought of Bucky in a certain way, guilt only grew. And not because it was some kind of betrayal to Ari—because it totally wasn’t—but because you still hadn’t found a heartbeat. Neither Sam or Bucky have mentioned it, but Peter has.

The two of you had been watching television together, relaxed in the quiet space, when Peter turned to you with a scrunched forehead and a stunted breath. He listened, listened, and realized.

Sam couldn’t possibly know, but Bucky? Can’t his advanced hearing pick it up?

So whenever these feelings of pure, unadulterated lust came rushing, you felt shameful that it would lead nowhere emotionally. You feel deeply for Bucky. Of course you do. What you felt for Ari was endless, and what you currently feel for Bucky is ethereal.

“I don’t know much,” you commented, scanning your surroundings to avoid looking Bucky in the eye.

“Mm,” Bucky hummed. He stored his gun back into his belt when a group of night servants turned down the hallway. They all gave you kind smiles, some even verbally greeting you. All you could manage was a small wave. Once they were out of earshot, Bucky said, “One night surely isn’t enough to know what I like, is it?”

Even if you had never seen it before, it was obvious the bright light coming from the giant, cracked open doors hinted at the library. Doors from floor to ceiling, heavy and intimidating. They were entirely black except for the elaborate gold art depicting two women, heads bowed and facing each other. You could hear low voices from within, probably Maxwell and Wenrel.

You snorted softly, chuckling afterward. “Your game is a little weak there, James.”

The air is knocked from your lungs when your back hits the wall. Bucky’s metal hand cradled the back of your head, a shield, perhaps the one place he protects now from unconscious instinct.

“Shortcake…Goddess,” Bucky breathed, his lips parting near your neck. Hot air immediately incited goosebumps along your skin. “What do you want me to do?”

“Huh?” Your voice was nearly high-pitched, embarrassing. Bucky Barnes had never shoved you against a wall before. He shoved you into a mattress—but a wall with his thigh between yours, his flesh hand squeezing your waist? This was the tension the two of you should have explored before jumping into bed together. Tension Bucky Barnes had decided he wanted to start now, in Hell, in the middle of a damn hallway.

“What—” He squeezed your waist tighter, lips now hovering dangerously close to where your pulse should be. Gently, he bit down. “Do you want me to do to you?”

The whimper you released was involuntary. Your hips moved on their own accord, making you grind down on the muscle of his thigh. Bucky chuckled deeply and glanced down, watching the way that made you grind again.

“I—” you choked. Bucky licked the area of your neck he bit, then kissed it.

“Don’t think for one minute that I haven’t thought about your legs around my waist again. Or those hands on my body. Or your taste, your noises, your tight, wet—”

“Bucky…”

“Hmm?”

Dragging your hands up his neck, you gripped the hair at the base and pulled him back. Meeting his eyes, you whispered, “I don’t know what I want right now.”

Bucky stilled, a low groan caught in his throat. If you didn’t know any better, you would say Bucky was disappointed. But it’s a groan laced with desire, desire that had been brewing for months, and was no way judgmental.

And before you could explain to Bucky you meant that you didn’t know what you wanted right now, the answer to his question, Bucky extracted himself from you. The loss of his heat almost made you cry out.

“Okay,” Bucky sighed, a smirk on his lovely face. “But Goddess, know this. When you do know, it better include me behind you, in front of a mirror, so you can never unsee it.”

Then he turned, the half bun on his head bouncing with each step.

~

    Maxwell’s eyes were burning. Words upon words flooded his sore vision, their meanings compounded. In fact, he may have forgotten how to form words altogether. These were letters. Pure, meaningless letters.

In his past life, when the threat of death was a mere fact of life itself, he had worked as a printer. Conducting research, drawing, bookkeeping. This type of work was not foreign, but it was time-consuming. It was kind of shitty for Hades to not offer him a different role down here, but Maxwell always had a knack for changing dirt into gold.

As for what he was currently researching… Well, he tried not to let the lack of information discourage him.

Infertility was not a grave issue amongst the Gods. Every book he had opened told him just that, that it wasn’t much of a problem at all. Practically nonexistent.

So that posed the question: How were the Fates able to curse a God with it?

The books didn’t reveal much. Stories about Gods themselves who cursed humans, but not vice versa. Nor did any God curse another God with it. Maxwell would argue, however, that Athena basically cursed Medusa out of disgusting jealousy.

One thing was a repetitive occurrence in his reading. All Gods were tied to life and death—the ability to create life, and the ability to incite death. So Maxwell’s only theory is that your powers already fulfill its use. With a flick of your wrist, you create life. With the same flick, you take it away.

To reverse a curse would be to enlist the expertise of someone who had way more experience with curses than he.

Maxwell raised his eyes from the book in front of him, focusing on the wall as he also strained his ears. His lips twitched in response, and he prepared himself as the footsteps grew closer. He waited, waited—

“Throw it, Darling, and we’ll see what happens when you ruin my eyeliner.”

Wenrel released a loud hmpf as she collected her waterball back within herself. She stomped her little feet across the tables until she came upon his. Sidestepping the books and all his half-eaten pastries, she sat on the only empty plate available.

Maxwell raised his teacup to his mouth as Wenrel complained, “I can’t seem to ever sneak up on you. It isn’t fair.”

“I can hear you splashing from a mile away.”

“Liar.”

He doesn’t tell Wenrel she’ll most likely never sneak up on him, that for some odd reason, he can feel her presence in any room in the palace.

“How does the new skin feel?” she asked, picking at the strawberry tart Maxwell had only bit into once. She popped a few crumbs into her mouth.

Maxwell shrugged. “Fifty years I lived with that shit. Now I can’t remember the feeling at all.”

He won’t miss it. He did not miss the spikes protruding from his skin, skin that was both his and not. Not for one second did he miss it. He doesn’t miss being mistaken for a goblin, or a demon, or a nymph. He doesn’t miss countless lovers avoiding his arms or his shins, his hands and his stomach.

His curse was lifted. Now he vowed to help his Goddess with hers.

“That sounds lovely.”

“It is.” Then with a frown, Maxwell continued, “I haven’t found anything yet, Darling. I’m sorry.”

Ever since Hades assigned him this job, he’s been trying to find a reversal for Wenrel’s curse too. He had met her when she was already this size. He had taken one look at her and sighed, enveloped in her, in whatever she was. They clicked, everything clicked, and they’ve been friends ever since.

Perhaps his only friend.

Wenrel sighed, crossing her legs and leaning back on one elbow. She continued to eat crumbs. “Don’t apologize. I doubt I’ll ever be myself again.”

“I didn’t think I would, and now look at me.”

“You’re the same ol’ Maxwell to me,” she said, smiling. But that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.  “So…How’s Titiana?”

Maxwell rolled his eyes at the change in subject. “Not seeing her anymore.”

“Of course you’re not.”

“She went back to her husband.”

Wenrel yelped, finally throwing that waterball at his shoulder. It splashed lightly, droplets wetting his left cheek. “Scoundrel!”

“The one and only.” Another waterball. “Hey—She was the one who cheated!”

“You encouraged it!”

“Darling, if you would have seen the way her mouth wrapped around my—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll tell Hades you held me over a flame.” He immediately shut his mouth. Wenrel was like a daughter to Hades, and Gods help any man who crossed her. “Good boy.”

Maxwell grumbled, shifting in his chair. She always called him that, and it did things to him. Things that shouldn’t be happening. “Don’t call me that.”

Wenrel scoffed, “Don’t make everything so sexual.”

He brushed off the comment. Instead, he looked down at the book laid open in front of him. He couldn't remember what he was reading before Wenrel interrupted. “I’ll keep looking, Wen. I’ve just added our new resident Goddess’s favor to the list, so.”

“Ah. The infertility curse.”

Maxwell nodded. “Bruce Banner’s medical examination showed no internal damage. The curse is the blockage. Break the curse, break the blockage.”

“Curses. Our most annoying foes,” Wenrel fussed, crossing her arms.

“And you? When we break your curse—” Because there was no if, “Will you miss being like this?”

She looked at him, shaking her head, persistent. “No. I miss when people could touch me. And I them.”

Maxwell flinched as she said it. He always bragged about his exploits, about the amount of skin people allowed him to touch, to lick, to explore. To live without such a touch, such a beautiful shared thing, was quite unimaginable. Sure, Wenrel can touch others—to hang onto them, to hit them, to shoot them with waterballs. But she couldn’t touch them. And yet, Wenrel has been living without it for several hundred years. He’s never asked her if she was intimately touched before. The thought always made him…protective.

He opened his mouth, about to lift the conversation and steer it back to something less serious, when voices interrupted his thoughts. He and Wenrel snapped their necks in opposite directions. Only to find his Goddess and the Winter Soldier entering the library from the entrance, and Sam and Elva entering from the back rooms.

~

    “Are you kidding me, Samuel?” Bucky scolded, extending his arms out in that obvious what the fuck motion. You giggled next to him.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Uh-oh. My full name.”

“You’re damn right I’m using your full name. What the hell were you thinking about leaving your room to wander around alone without backup?”

Elva tilted her head, confused. “He was not alone. I was with him.”

Bucky tried his best to smile at her. “No offense, but you could have killed him.”

You interrupted, gripping Bucky’s shoulder in a silent order to stop talking. “Or you could have stumbled across something dangerous, Sam.”

“All I found were paintings and Elva. And I haven’t even explored every floor of this place yet.”

Bucky nodded, agreeing with Sam’s statement the backhanded way. “Not tonight you won’t.”

“Getting a little up my ass there, Buck.”

“I don’t want to be anywhere near your ass, Sam.”

Maxwell threw his arms in the air, Wenrel now on his left shoulder. She conducted the same motion with her own arms. “Welcome, all! To the Underworld library.”

Bucky fumed quietly, the rage building in his stomach. Sam could have gotten hurt. Whether he found Elva and she proved innocent or not, he could have gotten hurt. The very thing that almost took Sam away from him could have easily found him again tonight. Bucky turned and pointed directly at Maxwell. “And this fucker—“

“Woah! Woah! Okay,” you announced, stepping in the middle of the tiny square everybody had created. “Let’s all calm down.”

“Mr. Let me abandon the humans during dinner with fucking Hades over here!” Bucky continued, ignoring your squinted eyes.

“He told me to get started on research. I skipped on his orders,” Maxwell explained.

You gave Maxwell a small smile.

No. Nope. Maxwell shouldn’t be getting any of your smiles. And the fucker eats them up too, like he can’t get enough of them. “A knock on our doors to apologize and say goodnight would have been appreciated,” you told Maxwell.

Before Bucky could intervene, Maxwell responded, “Didn’t know you wanted me to tuck you in, Mother Earth.”

Wenrel giggled, pulling at Maxwell’s detached earlobe. “She is the Earth’s mother, and you’re flirting with her?”

“Like I haven’t flirted with other Gods and Goddesses before.”

“Trust me, Maxwell. We know,” Elva shot, looking disgusted. “We share a bedroom wall.”

Sam raised a hand, looking up at the massive bookcases that towered over everyone’s heads. Bucky hadn’t had a chance to marvel at the wondrous supply of reading material because of how heated he was, but he could spare a second.

White and black bookcases housing books with spines of all colors, all titles, all sizes. Perhaps a thirty-foot tall room, the ladders attached to the stacks were half of that. Some books were scattered and randomly placed on the desks, as if the librarians only worked at certain hours. Or maybe this was the purpose. The more cluttered a library looked, the more used it seemed to be.

But then that would make searching for certain titles an absolute nightmare.

Sam asked, “Can I get a tour of the library?”

“Can you get it in the morning?” Bucky countered.

“Okay!" you exclaimed, holding your arms up as a signal. “Sam, it’s the first night. James will not let me go to bed unless you follow us out. Maxwell, keep flirting. It helps my ego. James, you know I’ll help you drag him out by the ears, so don’t stress.”

Sam shook his head. “Nuh-uh. Not until Bucky apologizes to Elva for assuming she would outright kill me.”

“Anybody here can outright kill us,” you tried to reason.

“Yet, Elva’s been nothing but kind to us.”

Elva turned to Sam, an angry expression across her blushed face. “I do not need his apology.”

“Fuck shit, you’re getting it. Buck—“

“I’m sorry,” Bucky quickly obliged. Annoyance flashed through his eyes, but his apology was sincere. Bucky didn’t mean to villainize her. Especially since people still look at him and see a cold-blooded killer. “I’m just angry at the bird.”

Elva glared Bucky down, but her expression only lasted so long before Sam conceded to Bucky’s demands.

“I didn’t travel far,” Sam grumbled, bumping both your and Bucky’s shoulder when he passed in between. Without looking back, Sam called out, “I’ll share my location next time!”

“In Hell?” Bucky watched Sam go, shame immediately poisoning his veins. He didn’t mean to treat him like a child. But when either Bucky or Sam scold another, especially one another, it was exactly that.

“He should…he should be scared, no? He was the one ripped apart by a demon. He was the one who blasted in and needed to protect me from the portal. What is going on with him?” Bucky asked you, ignoring Maxwell’s soft goodnight behind him. “Curiosity killed the cat.”

You hummed, and took Bucky’s metal hand as you walked alongside him. “But satisfaction brought him back.”

~

   They weren’t home.

After his comment last night, Peter Parker fully expected the two lovebirds to book a hotel room and go at it. They could have left a note or a text, but it’s whatever.

But Sam? Sam didn’t mention going out last night, nor did he shoot Peter a text telling him to not wait up. Peter had just arrived back to the apartment with a very hungry Alpine clawing at his work boots. After feeding her, he found Sam’s bed still made and Bucky’s room empty. He found nothing in the apartment next door either.

“Sam?” Peter tried again, but it was pointless. He’d hear Sam’s heartbeat if he was anywhere near the apartment at least.

Peter busied himself with mail, breakfast, and TV before finally deciding to call. When Sam’s voicemail greeted him, he tried again. And again. And again. Then he called Margot, Sam’s personal assistant, but she hadn’t heard from him. She promised to track him down, but Peter was only half listening.

Something felt wrong. He could crawl along the side of every hotel building and peek into the windows in hopes of finding the whereabouts of at least two of his friends, but that would scar him for life. Plus, it felt a bit stalkerish.

It hasn’t even been a full day. Probably only twelve hours. Waiting a little bit longer could prove smart. Sam could walk into the apartment right now.

Yeah.

He’ll wait a little bit longer.

~

TAGLIST:  @fandoms-writings @hajmola-vs-aamchaska @natbarnes1917​ @howlermonkey69 @shirukitsune @sentimental-for-maneskin

[fitz-higgins]

How to Win a Friend While Lying to Your Mother

For a long time, Emma Hartley was the only person who found out about Monty and Henry’s relationship on her own. She was Henry’s acquaintance, although his formidable mother saw in her a future wife for him (“Tomes on obscure dialects from heaven knows where can’t sustain you forever, Henry!”). But, as it turned out, Emma had as little intention of marrying as Henry himself. She began a degree at London University, studying Classics, and dreamed of travelling the world and discovering ancient cities. Emma had only met Henry once when she was a teenager, having dropped by one of Mrs Higgins’s tea parties with her mother. He had already been busy with his first book then and so had little inclination to join their mothers’ idle chatter. But he had taken time to check if Emma was comfortable and that her cup and plate was never empty. It was silly, but it was this and his kind blue eyes that she remembered most from that meeting.

But how did she find out? Well, it all started – and happened – in June 1912, when she had no choice but to follow Mrs Higgins to New York. The latter was confident that her son didn’t have anyone worth knowing in the city. By that time, Henry, the most scandal-free creature in the world in his mother’s eyes, had already been sharing a lovely house with Monty.

They appeared on the doorstep of this lovely house far earlier than expected, with Mrs Higgins nearly breaking the doorbell while Henry and Monty were frantically dressing up. The early visit didn’t bother Mrs Higgins in the slightest: “A gentleman should always be prepared to receive visitors. Especially when it is own mother and her very charming guest.”

And so the gentleman’s mother and her, indeed, very charming guest, found themselves in the drawing room, soon joined by another gentleman living there. Who was, of course, a good friend and a former student of Henry’s and certainly not his secret lover. Monty’s charm didn’t quite work on Mrs Higgins, unlike Emma, and he had to go through an actual interview, as if Mrs Higgins was to decide if he was worthy of living with her son. His replies about his French name and Henry’s previous silence about him also didn’t seem to impress her, but she evidently decided to leave studying this peculiar specimen of a lodger for later. There was a more pressing matter: Henry’s marriage to Emma.

Alas, Emma’s attention was taken away by another resident of the house, Monty and Henry’s cat ‘Enery. Although Henry claimed they called him just Cat; he didn’t want to reveal ‘Enery’s real name, lest his mother asked too many questions.

“Yes, surprisingly, he seems to like the name,” Monty quickly supported his lover. “Right, Cat?” But “Cat” ignored his owner and went to rub his head against Emma’s dress. “He’s a little deaf, poor dear,” Monty explained, looking at ‘Enery with sympathy.

Mrs Higgins wasn’t pleased with it at first. “I’m not surprised Henry has decided to take a deaf cat,” she murmured, ignored by everyone. “At this rate, I’m surprised he hasn’t turned this house into an animal shelter.”

“Oh, we’ve only just moved!” Monty retorted in jest, stealing a soft look at Henry. “Personally, I find it very admirable. Surely, a care for such a creature as this poor fellow is a sign of a good man.”

This worked unexpectedly. Emma eagerly agreed with Monty, admiring Henry who flushed at this praise, and Mrs Higgins, seeing the young woman’s attention reverting to Henry, smiled in satisfaction, appreciating Monty’s comment.

Then followed more questioning that the two lovers could only improve with occasional, ostensibly accidental, touches of hands and discreet, careful looks and smiles. Eventually, Henry offered to go to Central Park, hoping to distract his mother. And so, with Henry pretending to court Emma, Monty pretending to be a mere friend, and ‘Enery unknowingly pretending to be hard of hearing, they set on their journey…

Central Park was where Emma made her discovery, although it happened gradually. Perhaps at first, it were some small signs she noticed, like Henry’s glances at Monty whenever they crossed a road, or Monty’s beaming as soon as he could get closer to Henry. Of course, it wasn’t unusual for good friends. 

But there were also certain phrases. As ‘Enery trotted happily on his leash, Henry noted “I figure that walking a cat doesn’t harm anyone at all, and as long as the cat consents to it as well, it shouldn’t be anyone’s business to interfere”. Looking back, Emma felt that he didn’t mean just walking the cat.

She got along with Monty easily. Just a short talk alone with him, and she was already speaking of whether life would be easier were she a man and kicking pebbles – masterfully – into the lake with him while Mrs Higgins couldn’t see. Talking to him was liberating, in a way. Rather passionately, Emma said that she would like to not just vote, but also to be an explorer, to travel without a chaperone – and Monty told her of the women who already refuse to follow many rules of society and even live like men, one way or another.

They were interrupted by a loud “‘Enery, come back, you rascal!” It turned out Henry got tired of his mother lecturing him and so he “accidentally” let go of the leash when ‘Enery spotted a squirrel. What he hadn’t counted on, however, was how fast ‘Enery could run. And as the supposedly deaf cat refused to stop even after losing the sight of the squirrel, both Henry and Monty realised that he was heading to the lake. Problem was, just on their way to Central Park, Henry said that their cat hated water.

Monty’s rugby experience kicked in. Almost knocking down several passersby and receiving an angry bark from a terrier, he found himself running after Henry, shouting to him, absolutely forgetting about any caution, “He’s going into the lake!” But seconds later, Henry managed to step on ‘Enery’s leash and catch it. Ostensibly checking up on the cat, the two got a few moments alone and close to each other. Meanwhile Mrs Higgins couldn’t help noticing Henry’s surprising athleticism. She supposed he had taken exercise, and partly, she was correct.

Then came the most extraordinary incident. Just as Mrs Higgins was about to suggest heading for lunch somewhere, a seagull flew overhead and snapped the lady’s hat up. In stunned astonishment, everyone watched the bird fly off and then unceremoniously discard the hat which landed most inconveniently in the very middle of the lake. Clearly, animals were against this lovely company that day.

As Mrs Higgins stormed off to rescue her precious hat (or what was left of it), Henry followed, and Monty, hardly able to contain his laughter, was left alone with Emma. They decided to head to a summer café, looking like a proper couple. Monty had to tell that he didn’t have anyone which felt incredibly wrong to say. Emma was the first to learn about Monty’s plans to write short stories about a sophisticated cat – which indeed became a reality a few months later. Emma, in turn, complained about her university suddenly removing Plato’s Symposium from the curriculum for ladies – something Monty hasn’t read, but heard of a lot.

“But then, of course, me being me, I just borrowed the work from the library and set about reading it myself,” Emma confessed with a hint of pride and almost laughed again at her own stubbornness. This piqued Monty’s interest. That’s when he set his plan, which has been brewing for an hour, in motion.

Apologising to his absent lover, Monty began by explaining why Henry wouldn’t make a suitable husband for Emma: he was quite forgetful, too focused on his research, and Mrs Higgins’s plan could turn into a disaster for both Emma and Henry. He and Emma agreed that she would tell Mrs Higgins she wasn’t going to marry in the near future. That meant Henry would not be pestered anymore by his mother, and Monty was ready to hug Emma for this. The sun was shining, melting patrons’ ice creams, there was not a single cloud in the sky, and things were improving for the two lovers.

The second part of his plan began when Henry returned, with his mother (and her hat) nowhere to be seen as she returned to her hotel to recover from the shock. After drinking to friendship and non-marriage, Monty mentioned the Symposium, surprising Henry so much that he nearly choked on his lemonade, and asked Emma what she thought of what Henry called the unspeakable vice of the Greeks. “My philosophy has always been thus – and I think Mr Higgins expressed something similar when walking Cat here... as long as it doesn’t harm anyone and both parties consent to it, I don’t see why it should be anyone's business,” was her reply. 

Monty agreed eagerly. “So, if you met such a man, with this Greek vice, Emma, you wouldn’t be disgusted, or something like that?" he asked innocently between munching on a sandwich.

Emma considered this a moment. “No, I don’t think so. Besides, who knows I might have already met a gentleman of such inclinations without even being aware of it. And as you can see, I’m still the same jolly person I always am!”

Although it gave Monty even more hope, noting he had met quite a lot of men and women who preferred their own sex, he didn’t go further than that. Open-minded though Emma was, the two lovers still weren’t sure how she would react to their revelation.

But in the end, they didn’t have to say anything, for Emma realised it on her own. Partly, it was Monty’s enthusiasm during that talk of the Greek vice. But also it was the scene that occurred before they left the park.

Having retrieved the hat from the lake which, according to Henry, looked like an enormous pancake – a comparison that continued to make Monty laugh months after – it was decided to bring the pancake-hat back to Mrs Higgins although it had lost all of its hat features. Monty, however, sensing that his presence wouldn’t make things better, suggested he’d wait outside. Henry reacted to it harsher than Monty expected and marched to the exit with a glare and an impatient “Well, come on then!” Immediately hating himself for this, Monty rushed after him to apologise. This, as well as Henry’s slip-up about their bed (“Monty and I are becoming experts in teaching one another in b - I mean, on accents. Yes. Hmm. Everything about accents”), convinced Emma that the two were far more close than they tried to appear. When they entered the hotel’s elevator, the two men stood on either side of her, apparently thinking that being physically separated would lessen her suspicions, but it only confirmed them.

Mrs Higgins wasn’t in her best mood (was she ever?) when she greeted the three in her suite. She didn’t recognise her own hat that Henry presented to her with little hope and a lot of fear. Out of the corner of her eye, Emma spotted Monty leaning forward, almost biting his nails, and bit back a smile. 

“Maybe your cat can find a use for it, a bed perhaps.” Mrs Higgins offered, refusing the hat, and sighed. “Is this all, Henry? I hope you didn't drag everyone over here on account of this hat.”

At last, Monty couldn’t help himself: “If you aren't going to thank your son, then I suppose this is all…” After a rather intimidating “I beg your pardon?” from Mrs Higgins, he went on, “Henry was ready to go into the lake to get your hat, he took the trouble to find it and bring it to you, despite... how it looks. And all you’ve got to say to him is that you don’t need it and he can do with it whatever he wants. You could have at least thanked him for the trouble.”

Meanwhile, Henry felt like he needed to avert a war and stepped in between his lover and his mother. But their argument only grew more heated until Monty proved he knew Henry better than his own mother, and just in time, too, because Henry wished the earth would swallow him up. Seeing and sensing this, Monty attempted the last blow, “Do you know that Henry was a shy, ridiculed boy in school, and he even got a nickname after he was nearly punished?”

This last blow proved the winning one. “I- what?” Mrs Higgins looked at her son in surprise. “You didn’t tell me this.”

“Would it matter even if I did?” came Henry’s tired reply. It felt strange for Monty to be the one to relate this episode from his boyhood to his mother, but he greeted it with a sense of relief. Even of liberation. “You hardly listen. I’ve been trying to tell you my whole life what I want to do and what I don’t want to do to no avail. And well, I’ve had enough of it, Mother.” When Mrs Higgins said nothing, Henry turned to Emma. “Would you say we have an announcement to make, Miss Hartley?”

It wasn’t the kind of announcement Mrs Higgins was hoping for. Emma simply said that she couldn’t marry Henry, both because they were too similar, and because she had other plans.

“Indeed, and I would also venture to add that I’m considerably older than you, Emma, and therefore quite set in my ways.” Henry decided not to look over at Monty who looked vaguely amused at this. “No young lady wants to be saddled with such a tiresome suitor, I��m sure.”

With a laugh, Emma chimed in subtly, though the point was entirely lost upon Mrs Higgins: “Oh, no, Henry, I’m afraid you couldn’t make a woman happy as much as I can a man!” 

Monty was glad he wasn’t drinking tea at that moment. This gave him the clue he needed: Emma was certainly aware of the nature of their relationship. Both him and Henry addressed her thankful looks. It was there, in Mrs Higgins’s sitting room, that the three of them sealed their friendship forever more.

After consoling Mrs Higgins who retreated into her bedroom, Emma returned to the two lovers who were relieved and overjoyed – especially Henry. Receiving their thanks, she then explained how she found out about them. Monty was sure that Henry’s slip-ups were to blame, but, to his astonishment (and a bit of embarrassment), Emma said that his questions in the café made her suspicious, and their faces and body language showed her how much they meant to each other.

“Well, I felt that I could trust you!” Monty tried to explain with his sunny cheerfulness and nonchalance, although the tips of his ears were still blushing.

Taking pity on her friend, Emma took Monty’s hand in hers and then Henry’s in the other. “I’m so glad I earned your trust. You have no idea how happy it makes me to be of help to you both. And you know, although we’ve only known each other for half a day, I feel like we’ve been friends for years! Isn’t that strange?” Curious to see what his owners were doing in the centre of the room, their cat hopped off the sofa to join them. “Ah,” Emma declared, noticing the cat. “And this is... “Enery, I believe?” Yes, she had found this out on her own, too.

Monty laughed and picked the cat up. “Yes. And this is your mistake, Henry. He is no Cat. He is ‘Enery, a very sophisticated fellow who admires Strauss and sausages. And he does have a lot to tell, I suppose…”

And the three had a lot to discuss. Which they did, without pretending or hiding anything, and it was this very Emma Hartley who became Monty and Henry’s friend.