#Bigbang snaps

[tatsuyawindow]

[ineffabletargtowers]

Avy Jorrāelan

HOTD Big Bang Teaser!

Warnings: NSFW, angst, fluff, smut, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, arguing, body worship (but nothing NSFW in this teaser!)

Final work will feature fantastic art by @the-common-cowgirl 💚

“I do not wish for you to leave,” Aemond began.  You scoffed. “So, you merely push me away at every opportunity for sport?”  He swallowed hard, trying to think of how to explain why he had tried so hard to keep you at arm’s length. But how could he say that he was terrified of letting himself love you? “I can’t be weak,” he said thinly. “Love is a weakness, and it turns the sharpest man into a fool.”  To his shock, you rolled your eyes. “Please, husband. You do not know love! You cannot even stomach looking at me or liking me, much less loving me!” You placed both of your palms on his chest and gently pushed, sending him staggering away from you in surprise. “All I ever did was try to be kind to you! I loved you and accepted you while you scorned me and pushed me away.”  Aemond took a frantic step forward, trying to reach out and touch you. “I-we were only supposed to be together because of duty! I wasn’t supposed to–” “There you are again with your precious duty,” you snapped. “Duty must come first, so it squashes any affection you have for anything but your own ambition! You can’t love me, because it would make you weak!”

Coming to @hotd-bigbang in Autumn 2024!

[lostelfwriting]

Bury Me with a Rose, We Both Have Thorns (Prologue)

Rating: Explicit

AO3 Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Death & Dream, Dream & Hob, Dream/Hob Gadling

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Death of the Endless, Hob Gadling, Jessamy, Matthew, Corinthian, Lucienne

Additional Tags: NO Major Character Death, Hanahaki Disease, Terminal Illnesses, Thoughts about death and dying, Decaying Health, Refusing Treatment, Strong Language, Unrequited Love, Enemies to ?, Past Minor Characters Death(s), Protective Death of the Endless, Doctor Human!Death of the Endless, Alternate Universe - Human, Tattoo Artist Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Flower Shop Owner Hob Gadling, Blood, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word count: 32k

I'm posting the whole work here on the 1st of March, but I strongly reccommend you read it on AO3, where I will be posting one chapter per day. Either way, click Read More or go to AO3 to read the Prologue!

Written for the event @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang. With beautiful art by @five-and-dimes!

It is a slow day at the studio, so while he is waiting for his next appointment, Dream is – like he does almost all of his free time – sketching new tattoo designs to add to his portfolio and listening to music loud enough to completely shut out his own thoughts. He is sketching a snake, having no doubt that it will catch someone’s eye. There is always someone who wants a tattoo of a snake. He pauses to look at his progress and ends up snorting in disbelief.

The drawing is truly a snake, but the reptile is weaving among the stems of flowers instead of a dead branch like Dream had intended. And they are ugly flowers at that. He is pretty sure that he gave a pot of those flowers to his secondary school teacher, who always called him Murphy, even though he hated that nickname. He can’t resist snapping a picture of the flowers with his phone and trying to look up what they are, but once he finds the name – cyclamen – he refuses to look up their meaning. It would surely be something stupid, like forbidden love, or maybe hopelessness.

Even the snake’s scales seem to actually be made of flower petals, and Dream rolls his eyes as he flips the page of his sketchbook. The downside to trying to tune his mind out is that he doesn’t notice when his subconsciousness begins to interfere with his process, and it has led to many flowery paintings in the past months. With a sigh, he starts copying the usable parts of the design onto another page until an insistent thought makes him pause mid-movement.

Just a few weeks ago, he would have been furious if this had happened. He used to tear those ruined sketches to pieces and then go outside into the late winter chill and glare at every passing person who dared to look his way. He wished they all felt as bad as he did, and most of all, his neighbour with his shop opposite Dream’s studio, with its bright, flowery logo.

Today’s drawing incident feels like just a small inconvenience. He feels zero anger, though he might still opt to destroy the sketch later, just for the miniscule satisfaction that the action will bring him. Or maybe he will keep it. Pin it to the wall next to his bed and look at it every night. He will look at the ugly flowers and realise with wry amusement and aching hollowness that he has finally accepted his fate.

He, Morpheus Endeles, is going to die.

He thinks about it and waits for anger or grief to appear, but they don’t. Good. He was getting sick of the self-pity. It has been months since he noticed the first symptom – the occasional cough – as something seemed to tickle his throat, easily blamed on a bit of dust. And then, a bit later, when he lay awake late at night and everything around him was quiet, he heard the soft rustle of leaves as he breathed. He didn’t need a doctor to tell him that he had the Hanahaki Disease. He tears the ruined sketch out and shreds it into tiny pieces, enjoying the bit of satisfaction that it brings him. Maybe he is still harbouring some badly suppressed anger. He doesn’t need a fortune teller to tell him that he has no chance of getting affection from the person he hopelessly loves. Because it is his neighbour, the owner of The White Rose, Robert Gadling, a straight man who rightfully dislikes Dream.

+*+*+*+*+

Cyclamen: resignation and good-bye

[ripdragonbeans]

Big Bang 2024 Teaser

Do You Believe In Fate?

TW: blood, bodily harm, creampie, p in v, profanity

N/A - no sexual content in the snippet

Aegon snapped. “Let us see our brother!”  “Aegon!” cried Alicent. “Aegon, please, everything is going to be okay,” you tried to comfort him. The lady coughed. “As I said, you’re going to have to wait. He was taken in for emergency surgery.” Alicent’s face lost all color. “But, he’s alive, yes?” “He should be fine.” The lady’s eyes softened. “Take a seat, it might be a long wait.” “Thank you,” Alicent nodded her head. You grabbed Aegon’s hand and took him aside to some chairs in a corner. Once you got to them, Aegon yanked his hand out of yours. “Aegon, what’s going on?” “What’s going on? My brother is in a freaking surgery because I couldn’t keep the ball away from our side. That’s what’s going on.” “It isn’t your fault he got hurt. He’s a goalie, he knows the risks.” “That risk shouldn’t be losing an eye, you know that.” “It was Luke. You know it was. He shouldn’t have slide tackled like that. It’s illegal.” “Yeah, and look where that got him. Luke isn’t the one facing the consequences,” Aegon spat. “Instead, it’s my little brother!” You tackled Aegon in a hug and held him tight. His breathing, once rapid, slowed down. You felt his arms slowly circle around you, as though he was scared to do so. One deep breath. Aegon lowered his head to your shoulder and you felt his shudder. He was crying.

Coming to @hotd-bigbang in Autumn '24!

Lovely to be revealed artwork by @emilykaldwen

[mckiwi]

McKiwi's Fic Recs

(Stephen Strange / Tony Stark)

These are all completed. Some are multi chapter. Most have very little smut, if any at all, so if you like that kind of stuff, you’re on your own. AUs are included. If I felt the characterizations were too off, it’s not here. If grammar was unacceptable, it’s not on this list. All of these have Stephen as a main character. These are organized by word count and genre. I've tried to include a little bit of (almost) everything. If you have any suggestions, feel free to reblog with those.

Blue indicates registered users only

REC LIST UNDER CUT

"Daydream" by InkDippedFingertips: [1052 words / Hurt/Comfort] It wouldn't be easy at all, Tony thought, to walk away.

"Say A Slow Goodbye" by InkDippedFingertips: [1086 words / Angst] No more suffering.

“The Truth” by ironstrangle: [1368 words / Hurt/Comfort] Wong is relieved when Stephen Strange gets hit with a truth spell. He'll finally tell Tony what's going on, right? Little does he know, that's not the only confession he makes.

"Do No Harm" by thedevildinosaur: [4691 words / Canon Divergence] Stephen Strange is a doctor. Stephen saved the universe. He is not the kind of man who ruthlessly kills his enemies. Tony can say that with confidence, because he knows Stephen Strange even better than he knows himself.

"Lost and Found" by flyingonfeatherlesswings: [12976 words / Canon Divergence] Stephen finds himself back on the streets after the new Sorcerer Supreme, Karl Mordo, decides that Strange breaking the natural law cannot be forgiven. For the IronStrange Midsummer BigBang.

"A Hard Man Humble" by Anonymous: [15282 words / Hurt/Comfort] “A loop like Titan?” Tony’s sensors are instantly on alert, hand in the air. Looking at different timelines, future after future after future that would now never come to pass. Enough to break a man, or his mind, if Thanos and his minions didn’t. That much devastation and death. “Red alert?” “No,” says Strange in a distant tone, caught in some memory. “It’s me. Stuck on the wrong track.” He snaps out of it. “It threw me towards –” You.

“Arriving Somewhere (But Not Here)” by Imagined: [15817 words / Alternate Universe] “It wasn’t so bad,” Stephen says. “I thought you hated it there?” “Parts of it, maybe. Not everything.” Wong slowly nods. A lamp flickers above their heads; with a snap of his fingers, Stephen brightens it again. The yellowish light seems all the more pronounced for it, casting shadows over Wong’s face. “I don’t regret that I never got the invitation to Ilvermorny,” Wong says eventually. “I would’ve wanted one at the time, I think. But that is what the Sanctum is for. It catches those who fall through the cracks - the unwanted and unseen of the magical world. They would’ve taught me things that would take a lifetime to unlearn. I see that in you, too.” Or: When he is twelve, Stephen Strange gets an invitation letter to the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This is only the start of a life spent studying and defying one kind of magic - the one that Stephen seems to belong to, and yet cannot make his own. That is, the road to becoming the Sorcerer Supreme is a long and meandering one.

“Survivors of the Wreck of Time” by amethyst-noir: [16199 words / Hurt/Comfort] Stephen had been in love with Tony Stark for so long, and through so many different timelines, that the feeling had become a fixed part of his being, something that was just there, fully intertwined with his very soul. Something that was treasured, something that gave him strength and comfort when he needed it, something he held close to his heart without even consciously being aware of it. (Sometimes a timeline has to bend and twist to make things that are supposed to be happen.)

“We’re Not In Kansas?” by Catxtopia: [17448 words / Alternate Universe] It was turning out to be a relatively lovely end to a hectic day. So naturally the universe had to throw a wrench in there somewhere. Said wrench came in the form of a strange flying object shooting out of the sky. (Or: Iron Man 3 AU, where Tony crash lands in Nebraska and meets a small town doctor by the name of Stephen Strange)

“If You Want Blood (You’ve Got It)” by twobettafish: [19290 words / Alternate Universe] Mystical threats always need to be dealt with, even if doing so requires Tony Stark's help. (Sometimes, though, those threats can be kind of stupid.)

"theme of wonder" by graveltotempo: [23889 words / Alternate Universe] When Thanos, the Mad Titan, breached the walls of the Underworld, in a bid to kill Hades and make Persephone his own, the King and Queen of the Dead cast a spell. A spell of time and souls, so that their love would be everlasting and so that they never would be without one another. So that their soul and immortal spirit would continue to reincarnate into different human bodies for cycles to come, and so that they could always find each other, not matter when or where. And for centuries, through the fall of Alexandria and the Salem Witch Trials, through the rise of the Ottoman reign and the fall of the Roman Empire, it works. Until Persephone wakes alone in a cave, surrounded by ash, smoke and sand, and Hades wakes alone in Kamar Taj, drenched in water and with blood on his sheets. Both alone. And as the Infinity Stones start popping up around them again, and the oddness of this cycle continues, they know that the reckoning is approaching, that the end is near. That the Mad Titan is once more at their door.

"Sometimes Goodbye is a Second Chance" by Aelaer: [37524 words / Canon Divergence] In 2018, the world almost ended. The world almost ended on a surprisingly frequent basis, Stephen had discovered in the last two years. But this time, this time the solution seemed just as bad as the problem itself with five years lost and so much suffering in the interim and the years after. So Stephen pushed himself farther than he ever had before to see if he could find something else: a solution that was less cruel, less harmful, less impacting to both Earth and the universe as a whole. He found it sometime after approximately 22.3 million futures.

“Stop-Loss” by twenty3: [41363 words / Canon Divergence] Tony Stark killed himself on a Monday morning. Peter Parker found his body. Stephen Strange was the first person he called. After the devastating loss, Stephen makes a decision. To use the time stone. To go back and fix things. To fix Tony before he can make the same choice to end his life. It doesn't work. So he tries again. And again. And again. It was his fault the world had lost him. It wasn't going to be his fault it stayed that way.

"A bargain with a dragon" by Mermaid_in_space: [46992 words / Alternate Universe] In a time of need, only one Tony Stark would be stupid enough to strike a bargain with a dragon, to ensure the future safety of his father's kingdom. Little does he know that the prize will be the one thing he treasures most. A Prince!Tony Stark / Dragon!Stephen Strange fantasy AU

“By the End of Today” by Imagined: [53835 words / Canon Divergence] For Stephen, Thursday doesn’t end. He is stuck reliving the same day and over again. This by itself is already something of an issue, especially with the Time Stone destroyed and well, and Stephen having little to no clue as to who is behind it, and why he’s the only one who can remember what is going on. Unfortunately, there is no easy way to destroy time loops. Surrounded by people unaware of the situation, Stephen has to navigate his friendships and feelings to hunt down the cause of the green light that keeps restarting the loop, and put an end to the endless Thursdays. It might’ve been a little less complicated, had Tony Stark not been connected to the time loop.

“14,000,605 Pieces of a Soul” by CookieCloud: [57371 words / Hurt/Comfort] After the Snap has been reversed (and everyone survived), Tony's life isn't working out as planned. Things with Pepper are not going well and the Avengers are still split up. Also there is the small problem of Tony's judgement being clouded by the effect of Wanda's mind spell. At the same time, Stephen is struggling to come to terms with all of the futures he experienced in the time stone. And that's already without the spiritual effects they've had on him. But maybe, they can help each other.

"A Crown of Thorn and Shadows" by Golden_Asp: [58465 words / Alternate Universe] Anthony Stark, King of Blood and Darkness, ruler of the Unseelie court, did not expect to find Prince Stephen Strange of the Seelie chained up in his torture chamber, cold iron being driven into his hands. Stephen Strange, a Seelie healer, never dreamed of finding himself in the court of nightmares, being cared for by the king that the Seelie called a monster. They must work together to find the traitors in two Faerie courts that have not spoken in over six hundred years and reclaim Stephen's memories before the courts descend into war once more.

"Time After Time" by lantia4ever: [64186 words / Alternate Universe] Months after dealing with Dormammu, the Time Stone offers Stephen a deal – it will fix his hands so he can once again be a doctor. For a price. A balance. It's everything Stephen could ever wish for and the price is laughably insignificant - so he accepts. After all, what could he possibly ever love more than becoming a doctor again? Written for the IronStrange BigBang 2019 \o/

"...and dance by the light of the moon" by atypicalsnowman: [69972 words / Hurt/Comfort] Stephen was in trouble. Big trouble. The kind of trouble that even Tony with his nearly limitless resources couldn't get him out of. He's never been a praying man, but they need a miracle. He’s not sure about God, but Thor always said wonderful things about his mother. At this point, Stephen needs a goddess’ intervention, so Tony sends up a prayer and hopes. The good news is, Frigga hears Tony’s prayer and decides Stephen needs the help of a guardian angel. The bad news is the angel she sends is Loki.

"Looks Like Bending Time" by FriendlyNeighborhoodFangirls: [74899 words / Alternate Universe] The dawn sings in Stephen Strange’s ears when he is born. The dawn and the fields and the souls of his mother and father and the watch his sister buys him on his ninth birthday—it all sings, countless melodies written into the universe. There are songs and there is the boy, and there seems to be no way to separate one from the other. Stephen listens and pretends he cannot, and he lives in safety as a surgeon and a success. But he can only hide from the unknown for so long. The search for answers leads him into a dance of spies and realms and conspiracy, side-by-side and saving a man with a song like a falcon spreading its wings. There is a watch and a suit of impossible armor and a lurking serpent seeking power from the shadows. And always, there is the song. What is silence, really?

"Time-Lost" by Bravehardt, Foxglove_Fiction: [107078 / Alternate Universe] Reoccurring nightmares kept Tony up at night; dreams of those closest to him dying over and over again in an endless cycle - haunting him and depriving him of sleep. Reaching his breaking point, Tony consults Stephen to help rid himself of these nightmares. It seems as though Stephen might be closer to Tony than he initially thought - or hoped and the barriers between patient and doctor relationship are starting to blur. Neither of them could have predicted that some of the dreams they have both been subject to are more than simple dreams but possibly fragments of memories from a life long passed.

[pinkscaped]

can we get some info on myrah plz? 🤞🏾

"I never said she wasn't talented. I just said she wasn't good."

Said during an AllTalkMe episode between her and former Allume member Bora, Myrah would openly criticize their former member Sooah, who she had publicly feuded with for years at this point.

"I never said she wasn't talented. I just said she wasn't good." Bora laughs into her microphone at Myrah's deadpanned statement before turning away, covering her mouth. Myrah, with one hand out and wrist limp, chuckles like she doesn't get the joke before looking at the camera, the video zooming in on her.

"What? It's the truth."

"Yawn! Next."

Most of these are from AllTalkMe, but this was a reaction to her and Bora getting an ad for a DeepDive music video which she instantly skipped. Later, Myrah would admit to not even knowing who DeepDive was, saying: "I don't listen to boy groups. I barely listen to Kpop."

"Well, if I owned a company, I would also a slut. Who wouldn't?"

She said this during an Instagram live when someone asked for her thoughts on the Angelico vs. Baebi trial. She'd also go on to say...

"Yeah, totally on her side. I'll be honest, she could've beaten his ass, and I would still be on her side. Sue men if you can."

"Sue men." Would soon become a popular term used on Twitter primarily. She would then go on to make a tank top with the phrase on it, putting it for sale on her merch store where it would sell out in 30 minutes.

"We kiss sometimes."

Immortalized by a fan-taken video during Paris Fashion Week 2018, Myrah was signing autographs for fans waiting for her outside the building. Waiting patiently and holding her Metallic Birkin 25 was her boyfriend of two years, Gong Yoo. When asked by an unknowing reporter if they were together, Myrah would laugh and tell him: "We kiss sometimes." With a shrug.

"Sometimes I wanted to rip your hair out and shake you until you got what I was saying, but you always meant the world to me, you know? That's true love to me. We're in love."

Said during the fifth-anniversary episode of AllTalkMe between Myrah and Bora. The pair reminisced on their time together and their friendship. Bora, who would be quietly crying during this spill, would sniffle and nod before giving Myrah a simple finger heart then bursting into tears. Myrah would burst out in laughter, dabbing her eyes as tears would slip out.

"Just fucking do your job. Your job is to sing and dance. Sing and dance!"

Known to run her generation like the navy, this iconic quote would be shouted during a rather tense practice session that was filmed for the Allume documentary. Myeah would actually yell this at member Sora and surprisingly not Sooah, who she would later go on to snap at for missing a beat.

"Stop asking us about groups we're not in. We don't care."

Myrah would interrupt an interviewer when they would start to ask her about BigBang. In her defense, this was the fourth boy group the interviewer had asked the girls about, and Myrah was over it.

"Why would I have children? I'm too hot and successful to take care of a child. Be serious."

Another iconic quote from an Instagram live stream. Ever since Myrah turned 30, she's been constantly asked if and when she'll become a mother. Though she's been mothering since 2000, Myrah has stated multiple times she has no plans to actually birth a child and will continue to focus on her career until she dies.

"Never date an idol. Idols don't last unless you're me but-"

This piece of advice was given to a viewer of AllTalkMe during their call-in segment, which has since been discontinued. Due to her inflections and quickness, this was one of the first clips of Myrah to go viral. Plus, Bora's reaction of bursting out into laughter, hitting the desk, and falling over in her chair was the cherry on top.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

You might have noticed that my BigBang still hasn't been posted, but that doesn't mean I haven't been working on it, just like my wonderful artists @mcdadarts and @m00n-arin have. I would like to give you a small teaser before the posting date on February 15th...

My Steddie Corpse Bride drabble seemed to get people interested in more. I heard you and because of that, I proudly announce that my BigBang fanfiction is...

With This Ring

(an excerpt from the first chapter, very reminescent of the drabble I posted over a year ago)

Steve wandered further and further into the forest, kicking at decayed wood and fallen leaves, his mood sour. “You want vows, I’ll give you some,” he muttered and grasped the wedding ring in his hand so tightly it made an imprint into his skin. 

He stomped on a rotten branch, snapping it in half. 

“With this hand, I will punch my father’s perfectly shaved face and get arrested, maybe that would postpone the stupid wedding for a day or two.” 

His foot slipped on a wet patch of moss and he stomped on it in retribution. 

“Your cup will never empty because if you ever marry into my family, alcoholism is the way to go, baby, and wine might not be enough to get through a single dinner with my parents, do you like vodka? You will need vodka.” 

Steve’s suit got caught on a thorny bush and he swore, sending a bunch of nearby crows into a complaining match. He could relate. 

“With this candle, I will set fire to our marriage certificate and set you free, at least for two days or so before our parents bribe someone to re-issue it on a fireproof paper.” 

With that last word, he slipped on moss once again and barely kept his balance, only stopping against a stump of an old oak tree. He remembered spending careless summer afternoons there, in the small clearing with Eddie, laughing and humming tunes that his mind refused to forget. The same ones he still played whenever he could, gripping the memory tight and not letting it go. Eddie might have been gone, but his melodies would stay with Steve forever, no matter how dramatic that sounded. 

The old oak tree used to be a place of comfort for him and Steve really needed some comfort. Uncaring whether his suit trousers would survive the damp and overgrown seating, he slumped down and closed his eyes, sighing. It really felt like his life was over before it had even begun. 

He finally opened his palm to look at the ring, turning it in his fingers. It looked beautiful in the setting sun, gleaming and reflecting the dying rays of light. Such a small thing. Such a commitment. 

“With this ring, I wish someone like you could be mine,” whispered Steve and hung his head down. 

He would have been content sitting in the woods much longer, but several things happened that foiled his plan. 

First, the birds stopped singing and the woods became eerily quiet. 

Second, a strong gust of wind threw several fallen leaves into Steve’s face, obscuring his vision. 

And third – a hand grasped Steve’s ankle and started pulling. 

Steve yelped and tried to run, get away from that icy touch, but to no avail - the grasp of the hand, yep, definitely a hand, not a root or anything, remained firm, although he distantly noticed some of its joints cracking, as if they were finally getting some movement after a long period of stiffness. 

Steve’s escape attempt had him yanked back, spinning around and then everything was a whirl of thick tree crowns, growing shadows and cowing of crows – and then his back hit the forest floor and everything went dark. 

When he came to, he immediately wished he’d remained unconscious for just a little longer. 

The pressure on his ankle was gone, but only because the hand found something better to do – digging. It started removing the soil around and soon another one joined it, loosening the soil…and disappearing into the ground. 

A thud from underneath. The crows were louder and louder, flapping their wings and flying in circles over the clearing. 

Another thud, roots cracking, the whole tree stump shaking and tilting back. 

And with the third one, the roots snapped and those hands were back, but with them a head of messy dark hair, pale skin covered in mud, sticks and patches of moss, faded black clothes and a chain belt, a belt that Steve knew too well, this had to be his punishment, had to be a sign because he still tried to pretend that he hadn’t known from the second the hand with all those gaudy thick rings touched him, but now he couldn’t pretend any longer, the long fingers pushed back all those dirtied strands of hair and Steve was met with the deep eyes that haunted his dreams, the best and the worst ones. Only in those dreams, the eyes had a spark of life in them, the desire to exist, to fight. 

These had none of it. Not anymore. 

Crawling away from the horrifying sight, Steve hissed as something in his ankle snapped and with unexpected clarity, he remembered his recent half-baked plan to break his own leg. Finally, something going according to plan, he thought and felt a hysterical urge to laugh. 

The figure spat out a mouthful of dirt and wiped his face, throwing his head back and letting out a dry, humorless laugh. His skin had a blue tint but, and Steve couldn’t comprehend why his brain would focus on that instead of the actual reanimated corpse in front of him, was surprisingly well-preserved. It would have been a wonderful Halloween costume and maybe others would have doubted, assumed that it was a prank, a sick joke, but Steve saw the undisturbed moss, the unnatural movements of those once graceful limbs, and knew. 

What used to be Eddie leaned down, the clearing quiet except for cracking of joints and Steve’s uneven breathing, and picked up something shiny, something that caught the last ray of the setting sun before shadows enveloped both of them, the living and the dead. It was a ring – the ring that Steve must have dropped right before he fainted. 

“Eddie-“ Steve whispered and he wanted to say so much, ask even more, but the words wouldn’t leave his lips. He just stared at his former friend and the ring he was holding. 

Eddie’s pale lips spread into a wide smile, his dirtied teeth on display. “That for me, Harrington?” he asked, cocking his head to the side as he examined the ring. His voice was rough, parched. “I expected at least one date first, perhaps a dinner. And the ring isn’t really my style. But,” he sighed with theatricality so familiar that it made Steve’s heart ache, “beggars can’t be choosers. Well then, King Steven the first of the House of Harrington…” 

Steve couldn’t speak. He just watched as Eddie slipped the wedding band onto his ring finger. 

“I do.”

The full fic will begin posting on 15th of February, unless the world ends. Or something.

[cerebrocentric-bullet]

An illustration of @spacecoats's fic "A Useless Study" done for this year's @tf-bigbang!

“It isn’t disarmament, it’s dismemberment,” Ratchet snaps, pushing away from the table to stand.  “Integrated weapons systems are an important part of Decepticon anatomy.  They can’t just be removed without serious systems-wide consequences—not to mention neurotrauma. You’re going to have to relocate to Darkmount if you want to start maiming prisoners in the infirmary.”

[pagesinmylife]

“Would you shut it?” Harry finally snapped. He was lying on his bed, reading a textbook for class. “Oh so he can hear me,” Riddle said. “I was beginning to wonder.” “Why are you here? I killed you. Are you a ghost?”  “Obviously.” “Then go haunt someone else.” Riddle scowled. “I can’t.” “Sure you can. Why don’t you scare the Dursleys while you’re here? Or go find Draco Malfoy. I bet you could make him scream like a girl.” “You can’t be this dense. I refuse to believe the boy who defeated me is so oblivious to his surroundings that he hasn’t noticed other people’s reactions to me.” “What reactions?” “Exactly.” Riddle stood by Harry’s bed, towering over the other boy. His arms were crossed across his chest which was still clad in a Slytherin uniform. “No one else seems to be able to see me.”

Go read my submission to the Tomarry BigBang- Lovely Bitter Water

[xoxoladyaz]

Steddie Bigbang #177: Infernally Yours is HERE!

Finally, after months of work I am SO HAPPY to start publishing my contribution to @steddiebang, a post-Season 3 AU in which Hopper doesn't go to Russia, the Byers family stays in Hawkins, and Steve Harrington finally agrees to play DnD with Hellfire. Chapters 1 and 2 are up today, chapters 3 and 4 will go up on the 9th, and the last two chapters (and the epilogue) will be posted on the 16th.

Here's the link to the story on Ao3 and a preview below :) I can't wait to see what you all think!

Listen. Steve Harrington knew that he had some sins to pay for, okay? He was kind of a stuck-up shit for most of high school and while he didn’t go out of his way to, like, ruin anybody’s day – cough, cough, Tommy Hagan – he also didn’t really reach out to anyone who needed help either. He’d led on a lot of girls before Nance, too, and if judging by the fact that the only girls he dated these days wanted a good time and not a long time, well, he had some work to do on the whole “relationship” and “finding everlasting love” front. But he’s done the work to be better! Granted, a lot of the work consisted of him getting beaten up and/or tortured by other people while protecting a group of unthankful little shitheads, but it’s still progress. And, not to brag, but he got Robin Buckley as a best friend out of the whole thing, so really, Steve Harrington’s not doing so bad on the whole “redemption” thing, thank you.

So why, why does the universe continue to torment him?

“ – and that’s when Lorcan Fairwood used Horde Breaker to fire into the pack of gnolls, dealing five points of damage to Kazar, the gnoll pack leader, and then Eddie said - ”

“Dingus,” Robin hissed, knocking her elbow into Steve’s and dislodging him from his thoughts. “Get Dingus Junior to knock-it-off with this dork talk before I knock him into the recent returns.”

Groaning, Steve rubbed his palms against his dry eyes and braced for impact. “We got it, Henderson, Munson’s the best thing to ever happen to Dorks and Demons - ”

“ – Dungeons and Dragons, Steve, I know that you know that’s what it’s called - ”

“ – and as much as I like hanging out with you, dude, these multi-hour play-by-plays aren’t convincing me that this nerd shit is, like, fun or whatever,” he finished with a sigh. Robin shot him an exasperated but grateful look and then slid her newest stack of freshly rewound returns his way.

“Shelving time, doinkus.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolled his eyes and reached for the stack.

Dustin snorted and kicked at the front of his desk, which, the attitude on this kid, seriously. “Guess Eddie was right.” 

Steve froze. What the hell does that mean?

“What the hell does that mean?”

Dustin snorted again before spinning to face Steve, his hands falling to his hips. “Eddie said says that jocks only care about other jocks. And jock stuff.”

“Hey, okay, first of all, there’s only one of us that’s actually saved your life multiple times and it’s not Eddie Munson, so jot that down,” Steve snapped, dropping the tapes back onto the counter (and ignoring Robin’s yelp as they tumbled everywhere). “And second, just because we don’t have the same interests doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, man. That’s a shit thing to say.”

Henderson folded inward, his eyes dropping towards the ground and voice losing its normal intensity. “Sorry, Steve.”

“And third – look, Henderson,” Steve sighed at Dustin’s drooping. (Look, he was a little shithead with the biggest ego in every room, but he was Steve’s little shithead and he hated to see him upset – even when it was his own fault.) “Maybe it isn’t like, totally boring in the moment or whatever, but getting a two-hour play by play after your game every Saturday isn’t doing a whole lot to convince me, man.”

“Well,” Dustin perked up slightly and cleared his throat, “we’re always looking for new members - ”

“Nope, no way.”

“Steve,” Henderson’s whining was out in full force now, “it would be so much fun! You wouldn’t even have to do that much work; I could help you get started and - ”

“No.”

“ – seriously, I can make you a character sheet so fast, and our party could really use another fighter anyways - ”

“No, Henderson!”

“ – besides, we haven’t gotten to hang out with you as much now that school started, and you know that Will’s having a hard time because everyone keeps calling him ‘Zombie Boy’ and he would be so excited to have you playing with us - ”

Shit, he’s pulling out the Zombie Boy card. Shit, shit, shit.

“Henderson - ”

“ – and, you know, I totally believe you and everything but Mike is pretty convinced that you’re still an asshole, especially with everything Eddie’s said, and this could be your chance to prove him wrong!” Dustin finished emphatically, his chest puffing with exertion.

Steve shot an exasperated look over the top of the Horror section towards Robin, who was pouting in mock-agreement with Dustin.

Traitor.

Sighing, Steve shoved Friday the 13th onto the shelf and dropped his gaze towards Dustin. “One game.”

Dustin let out a loud whoop, hopping in place and punching wildly at the air. “YES!”

“Just one game, Henderson, that’s it.”

“I’LL TAKE IT!” Letting out an even louder victory cry, Dustin raced for the door. “I’m going to get working on your character sheet right now – Wednesday, 3:30 in the drama room,” Dustin said, whirling around to point at Steve. “You’ll be there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there.”

“YES! Don’t worry Steve, you won’t regret this!” Dustin beamed and then he was out the door, disappearing into the October sun.

[tatsuyawindow]

[legendtrainer]

Preview of my @tf-bigbang fic! It's a Skystar and then command trine/Skyfire fic set in a no war university and royalty AU, because why the heck not.

I got to work with the absolutely delightful @cumjunxendura , I can't wait for everyone to see his art!! ^^ Really wanted to write something happier than what I normally do, and while it edged slightly darker than I intended (I was aiming for 100% fluff), I ended up getting ~90% fluff instead. It also uh. got out of my control lengthwise and uh may or may not be over 60k. and there may or may not be ~2k of sequel already in another document. oops! Full text under the readmore

“Don’t even think about it you horny little kreemzek,” Starscream snapped, though lacking heat, as he slipped off Skyfire. He helped the shuttle upright with an proffered hand and a pulse of his antigravs.

Skywarp exhausted and stuck out his glossa, but continued over with a sway in his step.

In purposefully terrible Iaconian, thick with the musical tones of a Vosnian accent he said, “Well, are you not quite the impressive flier, hmm? We could have to try it out sometime.”

Thundercracker looked like he was about to combust in embarrassment, and Skyfire just stared, his clear blue optics wide and enthralled and his mouth slightly agape.

Skywarp grabbed each trinemate with a jet black hand, pulling them towards him. His painted talons danced up and down the leading edges of their wings, making them shudder before moving to tug Skyfire towards him by one massive elevon. The shuttle leaned closer, and Starscream knew he could practically feel the sharp optics of the entire trine on him. He wanted Skyfire to take this seriously, to know that he would be an addition to a complete trine, of equal standing and importance but different by nature of the timing. He would have to grow into the established relationship and overcome the societal disdain of his position. He would need to think hard about if he’d be capable of communicating and existing in that framework.

That wasn’t even mentioning the… everything else.

“We do have a full trine, but we feel we can make space for one more… please think about it?”

Skywarp slipped back, and Skyfire seemed drawn into the space where Starscream’s trinemate had been. The purple seeker’s hands slipped back around the waists of his two trinemates with a smile Starscream knew from personal experience would stick in Skyfire’s mind like a virus.

[mrthology]

Walking Backward Into My Own Myth

"You should have ascended years ago," Zeus said without preamble, looking down at Percy. The other Olympians, even his father, remained silent, watching the proceedings with uncharacteristic solemnity. 

"I said no years ago," Percy snapped, rage making his voice tremble and hands shake. "I didn't want to be a God then, and I want to even less now. I've seen how horrible eternity is." 

"You would defy the fates themselves?" Athena asked softly, leaning forwards with narrowed eyes. She looked more godly than Percy had ever seen her, to the point where it was nearly unbearable to look at her face. Percy did so nevertheless, glaring at the Goddess he's lost almost all respect for. 

"You had children die today," he snapped, desperate to return to Camp. "Annabeth could still die—hasn't she done enough?" 

———

Or, Percy keeps living the same horrible day over and over and over again, regardless of what he does. Eventually, something will have to give. Percy just isn't sure what.

For the @pjo-hoo-bigbang!! thank you to @intermediateills and @cassecorrea for the amazing art!!

[eatyoursparkout]

Finally popping in with my preview for the @tf-bigbang ! Ever wondered what would happen if The Scavengers were thrown into the plot of John Carpenter's The Thing? If you like body horror, terrible jokes and angst, this one's for you 😤

Keep an eye out for the amazing illustrations that @ju5t777 did for this fic ✨I'm sooo excited for you to see what they've cooked up 👀

(Open image new tab for clearer viewing. Full text under the cut)

“So?” asked Crossbed, shifting from side to side. “What are we looking at?”

Spinister didn’t reply immediately. Krok watched, mildly repulsed, as he got a firm grip on one of the thing’s insectoid legs and snapped it at the lowest joint. He placed the bristly, hooked end of the leg down on a metal tray, and then wrapped his hand around the base. When he pulled, it unrooted itself with an unpleasant squelch. Bloody wires and viscous goo stretched from the joint, as though reluctant to relinquish the limb.

“This,” Spinister said, holding the leg aloft for them all to see, “is not a dog.”

“What gave it away?” asked Apex snidely. If he was trying to hide his fear, he was doing a poor job of it. Arms crossed, his fingers maintained a death-grip on his own plating.

Spinister looked at him as though he were slow. “The exoskeleton.”

Krok glanced again at the twisted facsimile of a turbohound. The plating seemed—bloated, somehow. Like the mass of wires and whatever else that lay underneath was straining against the metal, eager to spill out. His optics paused on its chassis, where a crispy medpatch still clung halfheartedly to the armour.

“But it was the dog,” Krok said, tamping down his revulsion. “The one that we took in.”

“Maybe at some point,” replied Copper. “Not anymore.”

Behind him, Spinister had put the leg down and was prodding the remains with the blunt end of a laser scalpel. He muttered something under his breath—something that sounded suspiciously like: Who are you? Who do you work for?

“So what happened to it, then?”

“The same thing that I suspect happened to one of the dogs in the kennel.” Copper's voice was grimmer than Krok had heard it thus far. “Spinister, would you mind making a vertical incision below the chest?”

Spinister stopped poking the corpse. He deftly spun the scalpel around to the business end and reactivated the blade.

There was a horrible sizzle as the laser evaporated the liquids it came into contact with. Still more oozed out around the steaming incision. It was the right colour for energon, but too thick. It coated everything it touched in a slimy film.

Spinister put the scalpel away and then unceremoniously shoved both of his hands into the hole he’d made. The plating, like the other corpse’s, was unsettlingly leathery, and gave way beneath his rummaging. There was another sickening squelch—a wet sucking noise that continued as he felt around inside the cavity. Around the room, an answering chorus of disgust.

“Hey loser,” said Misfire, nudging Fulcrum. “Hear that? That’s what good valve sounds l—”

“Don’t,” said Fulcrum. His expression was pinched, exasperation and queasiness warring on the planes of his face. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

bigbang fic reveal 🥰 i’ll be working with @hellfiredemon & @steves-strapcollection

can’t wait to share everything with you in october :)

excerpt under the cut

February, 1996

Eddie rushes off the stage, sweat dripping down his back, practically high on the adrenaline of a great show. Someone shoves a towel into his hands and he wipes at his face, dragging the coarse fabric across his skin. Nights like this were exactly what he’d dreamed of back in Hawkins when he used to lay on a splintered picnic table and stare up at the stars. When he and Gareth and Jeff would talk about their music and where they were going and where they’d end up. They used to talk about nights at the Garden, the sold out shows and the stadium lights, crowds screaming their own words right back at them.

Eddie’s skin is buzzing. The air feels electric, like it could snap in two at any moment. He feels like he could fly, like he could take on a thousand demobats and survive. This is what he’s always wanted. This is where he was always meant to be.

He’s led back into the green room where he strips his shirt off and pulls on another one, one that’s not drenched in his own sweat. The crew generally handles packing up the stage and the equipment, but he doesn’t trust anyone with his sweetheart, the guitar he’d pulled from the demon dimension, the guitar that had saved his life, Dustin’s life… Steve’s life. He packs her away carefully, lovingly, with gentle fingers.

He’s ushered out of the venue and into the back seat of his waiting car, a big black SUV. The lights of New York City are blinding and the energy on the street makes his heart thrum in his chest. He never could have imagined that he’d really be doing this, that he’d really travel to places he’d only ever read about, places where people scream his name. 

The car pulls away from the curb, ready to transport him back to his expensive hotel room. He relaxes back into the leather seat.

He does his best to ignore the billboard with Steve Harrington’s handsome face looming over Times Square.

~*~

April, 1988

Steve pulls up outside the trailer after work. He’s decided he’s going to tell Eddie today. He’s going to tell Eddie he loves him. He doesn’t think he can hold it in anymore. He’s pretty sure Eddie loves him back. He thinks he can see it in the way Eddie looks at him when he thinks Steve isn’t looking. 

He pulls his key from the ignition and steps out of his car, brushing his sweaty palms on his jeans. He walks up the newly-built steps to the trailers front door. He’s barely able to knock at all before the door’s being wrenched open. Steve practically leaps back in surprise, but then he registers Eddie’s grinning face, Eddie’s pale hand reaching out to grab at the front of Steve’s shirt to pull him inside. 

Steve holds his hand against Eddie’s chest when Eddie moves in close, aiming for a kiss. “Wait, I have something to tell you,” he says, voice practically a whisper.

Eddie pulls back slightly. “Yeah?” He sounds nervous. “What’s wrong, Stevie?”

Steve swallows. “Nothing’s wrong.” He clears his throat, eyes darting to the side, stalling. He loves Eddie and he wants to say it, wants to tell him, to smile and laugh and whisper it against his skin. But he remembers the last time he’d said it to someone, how Nancy Wheeler had squeezed his heart to ruin in her tiny pink-polished fingers. He can’t bear the thought of Eddie doing that, too. Knows, somehow, that it’ll be worse than before. But he’s promised himself he’d say it, knows that Eddie deserves to hear it. He makes himself brave. “I just—I wanted to tell you that I… that I love you, Eddie.”

Eddie stills for a moment, frozen, pinned by Steve’s words. His hand comes up to grip Steve’s chin in his fingers. He forces Steve to look at him. “Really?” His voice comes out so breathless, like he can’t believe what Steve has said. Steve can feel Eddie’s breath against his lips, wants to feel it like this always.

Steve nods. “Yeah, really.” A smile spreads across Eddie’s face, slow and wide and bright, and Steve is helpless to fight it. His heart beats fast in his chest. He smiles back at Eddie.

“Never been loved before,” Eddie whispers, moving in close, lips brushing over Steve’s.

Me neither, Steve thinks, but doesn’t say. He knows better. Eddie finally kisses him then, a brush of lips before he licks his way into Steve’s mouth. Steve almost forgets that Eddie doesn’t say it back.

~*~

It’s been a week since Steve had told Eddie that he loved him. Steve has said it a few times since, at the end of phone calls, as he’s leaving the trailer for work in the morning, when he drives the kids to Hellfire and drops a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head. It feels good to say it, to mean it, all desire and want and affection rolled up in three little words, but it doesn’t escape Steve’s notice that he’s the only one saying it.

Steve isn’t stupid, despite what his friends might say when they tease him. He’s good at reading people and he knows himself better than anyone. He knows that he falls too hard too fast, knows that it can be intimidating or scary or off-putting for some people. He knows that’s a large part of what drove Nancy away. But Eddie is different. Steve has never felt the way he feels when he’s around Eddie. Eddie is so much himself, so affectionate and self-assured, that Steve thinks they’re on the same page. He doesn’t blame Eddie at all for not saying it back. He loves Eddie enough for both of them right now. Eddie will get there, Steve knows he will. He just has to be patient, wait it out. Love him so good that Eddie can’t hep but love him back.

So Steve isn’t necessarily worried, not like he had been with Nancy when she hadn’t said it back. When she couldn’t say it back. They were young and they were stupid. Steve had grown since then, had figured out who he was, to a certain degree. He knew not to pressure someone into loving him now, knew that it was almost impossible. People either loved you or they didn’t. There was nothing Steve could do to make it true. 

If anything, saying I love you to Eddie had been an objectively good thing. Eddie hadn’t said it back, but it was as if, by saying it, vocalizing the feeling, Steve had made it real and Eddie had responded in kind. Steve can’t remember the last time he’d been kissed so much, the last time he’d been touched and held safe. This was a good thing, Steve thinks, believes, knows, deep down in the bones of his heart. It is always a good thing, to love someone. Steve knows that to be true. He believes that with everything he has. Even if it’s someone who doesn’t love him back, someone who can’t love him back. Loving is always an objective good. 

It was enough to want, to care for, to love, even if he wasn’t loved in return.. Steve had convinced himself a long time ago that he didn’t always need it returned. 

A month after he tells Eddie he loves him for the first time, Steve stands outside the trailer with Wayne and watches Eddie Munson leave Hawkins behind for good.