#lance archer fanfiction

[calamity-queen]

I want to write a “Scotty Doesn’t Know” inspired fic with Giovanni. That being said, who should be “Scotty?”

[ao3feed-supercorp]

The Grandson of Ra's al Ghul: Arrowverse Fanfiction

by GuardianOfTheDragonknight

This is the story of the grandson of Ra's al Ghul, and he is not who you think he is. A story of an OC of mine and some more OC's. When Lee Raatko, the adoptive son of Nyssa Raatko, finds out the League of Assassins seems to be returning, him and his friends fight them to bring them down along with a new Ra's al Ghul, or the man Lee called grandfather. Lee has to face many people from his past to deal with this. Including a certain aunt of his.

Words: 30252, Chapters: 13/23, Language: English

Fandoms: Arrowverse - Fandom

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: Other

Characters: Lee Raatko, Nyssa Raatko, Nyssa al Ghul, Sara Lance, Ava Sharpe, Wally West, Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor

Relationships: Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Additional Tags: arrowverse, archers, The League of Assassins - Freeform, Nyssa - Freeform

from AO3 works tagged 'Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor' https://ift.tt/GC1hU8g via IFTTT https://ift.tt/GC1hU8g

[naritaren]

count down to the end and we're headed there faster

Rating: Explicit. Pairing: El Phantasmo/Lance Archer Tags/Warnings: brat taming, choking, slapping, bondage, fucking, pwp Word Count: 1575 Links: AO3 Notes: I saw Lance manhandle elp and there are too many of you enablers out there. As always, it's under the cut.

Lance’s hand gripped the bottle of beer tightly, the sweat from the bottle cooling his hand. He wanted to be anywhere but in this dingy bar with an annoying El Phantasmo crowding his space. 

“Why am I here with you?” Lance muttered as El Phantasmo slammed into him for the upteenth time. 

“So I figured that if I showed you my favorite bar you won’t come at me anymore. I’m still sore from that slam.” 

Lance didn’t realize El Phantasmo heard him. He raised an eyebrow as he turned to the other man. Phantasmo had a smirk on his face and elbowed Lance. 

“Get me another beer and I’ll consider it Phantasmo.”

“Well I’ll do my best. Might do better if you called me my actual name.” 

“Considering your ring name sucks, sure.” A smirk crept on to Lance’s face. 

“Excuse you!? One, El Phantasmo is an awesome name. Two, you can call me Riley.”

Lance took the last swig of the beer he was holding. He placed the empty bottle on the bar and stepped off the barstool. Riley stepped back, the smirk back on his face. 

“Riley. Yeah, that is better.”

Lanced watched as Riley stepped forward and reached his arm around Lance. The arm against his side made him realize how long it had been since he actually got laid. He shivered and shifted a bit so they weren’t touching. 

“Two beers please” Riley said in clunky Japanese. The bartender gave him a nod and took the money off the bar. Lance turned around and looked down at Riley, who was grinning and had a glint in his eye. 

“You said to get you another one so I figured I’d play nice and get it.” Riley handed the beer that had arrived to Lance, winking as he did so. 

“What do you mean ‘play nice’?” Lance drew in a breath and fixed his stare into Riley as if he was trying to read the other man’s mind. 

“Dude, you’re flagging right now. You know I’m not that young right?”

Lance’s eyes widened. He forgot that he actually put his bandanas in his pocket when he left the hotel room. 

“Plus. You seem like you’d be fun to play with.” The twinkle had returned to Riley’s eye, posing a challenge to Lance. 

“Fine. But we play by my rules.” 

“We’ll see about that.” Riley took a swig off his beer, winking at Lance again. He wandered off towards the pool table. Lance grabbed his beer and chugged it down. It had been a while since he had to deal with a brat, but he figured he could get into the swing of it again. 

Lance slid up behind Riley, snaking his arm around the waist of the man. 

“We’re going to go to my room now. It’s a short walk. You think you can behave long enough to do that?” Lance muttered in Riley’s ear. He felt Riley tilt his head up with a grin on his face. 

“I think I can manage.” 

The pair left the dingy bar, Lance guiding Riley down the street. No one stopped to look at the two men on the street and Lance was grateful for that. He heard Riley giggle next to him. 

“How much did you have to drink?” Lance wanted to make sure that the lines weren’t going to be crossed. 

“Oh just two beers. I’m good. Unless you think you can’t handle me?” 

Lance wanted to slap Riley silly at this point. The brat side of Riley was starting to seep through the facade more and more and he wasn’t ready. 

The pair walked into the lobby of the hotel they were staying in and headed straight for Lance’s room. He had gotten lucky and was on the first floor. Usually he was higher up, but right now he wasn’t going to complain. He slid out his keycard and swiped the door open. Riley followed him into the room and plopped down on the bed. 

Riley started to prattle on about the matches and other wrestling things while Lance started to grab things from his bag. He badly wished he brought a ball gag because Riley would not shut up. He knew that he was mouthy during matches, but good lord it seems to be all of the time. 

Lance grabbed a bandana and stepped in front of Riley. 

“You talk too much.” Lance paused, debating on if he should gag the man or shove his cock down his throat just to shut him up. 

“Then shut me up.” Riley countered back, earning a slap across the face for his mouthy comment. 

“Oh, that’s just not going to shut me up. People do that to me all day. Gotta get more creative.” 

Lance rolled his eyes and unzipped his pants, pulling them down just enough to free his cock. 

“Suck on it.” Riley grinned and adjusted his hair so that it wasn’t going to fall out while he got to work. 

“I mean….it’s nice and all. Would be a shame if I didn’t show you my awesome skills…”

Lance was getting impatient. He grabbed Riley by the throat and pulled him in closer. 

“Open. Up.” 

Riley opened his mouth and Lance fed his cock into the waiting mouth. He fucked in and out, not caring if he was too deep or not. Riley didn’t seem to mind, only gagging slightly. Lance felt Riley’s tongue move on the underside of his cock while he was face fucking him. 

Lance thought to himself about how at least Riley knew how to use that tongue that he didn’t seem to keep in his mouth. He shook his head and gripped Riley by the hair and started to go as deep as he could. He held back a moan as he got close. He didn’t want to come quite yet, so he pulled out. 

Lance looked down at the man who was grinning and covered in spit and drool. 

“Told you I was good at it.” Riley winked again and Lance slapped him again for good measure. 

“Stay still. I have a plan for you.” 

Lance walked over to the briefcase and grabbed a handful of bandanas. He quickly tied them together, leaving one untied. 

Lance stood in front of Riley again and maneuvered him so that he could gag him with the bandana. 

“There. You won’t be annoying anymore.” Riley groaned while gagged with the cloth. He started to shift backwards on the bed, trying to get out of Lance’s reach.

What Riley didn’t calculate was exactly how tall Lance was and how long his reach was. He was quickly grabbed by the ankles and pulled back to the edge of the bed. 

“Lay down flat and hold your arms up.” 

Riley debated not cooperating for a second and lifted his legs straight up instead. He grinned through the bandana in his mouth and Lance had clearly had enough. He grabbed one of the lengths of bandana tied together and tied his legs together with it. He then grabbed Riley’s arms and tied those together. 

Riley tried to scoot away again and felt the big hands grabbing his feet and hands to tie him together completely. 

Once Riley was hog tied, Lance grabbed the lube and slicked up a couple of fingers. He worked them into Riley quickly moving from one finger to a second. After working the two fingers for a bit, he pulled them out, eliciting a whine from Riley. 

Lance grabbed the condom he had set on the bed and rolled it onto his cock. He lined up with Riley’s hole and slid in. Taking a few seconds to let Riley adjust to the stretch and length. He then grabbed the tied legs of Riley as leverage and started to fuck in and out of him. 

Lance shifted his angle a bit, aiming for Riley’s prostate as he pushed Riley’s legs down a bit. He looked down at Riley’s face, tears streaming down. He was moaning around the bandana in his mouth, begging to be touched. 

Lance sped up, feeling his climax starting to happen. He fucked into Riley deeper until he felt himself coming. He slowly fucked in and out while he started to soften and wrapped his hand around Riley’s dick. He stroked a few times and had the other man coming quickly. 

Lance pulled out and tied off the condom, tossing it into the trash. He quickly undid the makeshift ropes and scooped Riley up onto the bed. He tossed the man a bottle of water and told him to drink up. 

“I’m going to clean us up. Drink the whole thing and eat those chips on the nightstand.” 

Lance headed to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth that he had gotten wet. He went back to the bed and cleaned the man up. He watched as Riley’s face turn back to a healthy pink. 

“We should do this again. You know, since we’re here for a couple of months.” 

Lance playfully swatted the man on the leg. 

“We’ll see.” 

Riley closed his eyes and leaned back. He didn’t plan on going back to his room and Lance seemed fine with that idea. 

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Riley said, content and relaxed. 

Lance pulled the covers up on the two and turned the TV on and thought to himself about how it could be fun to keep this brat around. 

[inastrangerskiss]

this was different

Lance Archer x Reader

content warning: tooth rotting fluff, call your dentist before reading

summary: Lance wasn't the monster he appeared to be

This was different.

You had never met someone like Lance. When you first saw him you were admittedly frightened. He was a solid foot and a half taller than you with a look on his face that was nothing if not full of malice. He had been frustratedly trying to scan something at the self check out at the grocery store so you offered to help, smoothing out the barcode just enough for him to move on with his day.

“Come here often?” He had asked with a cheesy grin on his face.

There was something about the way the smile melted any residual anger from his face that made your heart skip a beat. His eyes softened as he looked from you to the credit card machine. He waited at the door while you checked out, pretending to read his receipt over and over. Every time you saw him, still standing in place, his brows furrowed, you laughed. He walked with you to your car and made sure you put the eggs in a place that would ensure their security for the ride back to yours. You asked for his number but he said he’d like to get coffee with you first. He said it was better that way, that you’d be able to contact him only if you decided you wanted to.

That first date lasted longer than you had expected it to. Coffee became lunch, a walk in the park became him walking you home after grabbing dinner from a little place you knew on the corner. He stood with you at your door, unsure what to do with the moment. He took your hand in his so gently you almost didn’t feel it as his fingers stretched out between yours. They took up the space with a comforting knowledge as if your hands had known each other long before the two of you had met, as if your palms had clasped together a thousand times before this evening. With a feather light touch he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. He leaned down as you went up on tip toes, his lips meeting yours and for a moment you could’ve sworn you had known him in a past life.

And days continued like this. You met him whenever you had two consecutive seconds to spare. If he was in the area for lunch you’d hurry to his location. If he was free to meet you after work he’d sit with you on your couch until the last possible second when he’d kiss you goodbye and promise to see you as soon as he could. If you needed to mount a shelf he’d be at Home Depot pushing the shopping cart. If he needed to plant bulbs before spring arrived you’d meet him at the greenhouse. As if time was running out, you clung to each other filling any available moment with the other’s presence.

After a year he moved in. He carried all the boxes and built all of the furniture and you put his books in the bookcase, his framed pictures on the wall. He cooked dinner on nights when work kept you late and you made breakfast on mornings he was too tired to pull himself away from your bed. You would fall asleep with your head in his lap as you watched late night television and he would carry you to bed.

Some nights you’d sit on the edge of the couch and he’d sit on the floor. With deft movements, you’d gently unfurl his braids. You’d take the red and green and brown extensions out and brush out his natural hair. Sometimes he’d wince because the braids were too tight. On those nights you’d alternate between brushing his hair out and kissing the sides of his head until he blushed. He’d swat at you, wishing the ritual would be over sooner rather than later so he could wrap you up in his arms and hold you tight to his chest. Instead of relenting early, you’d massage the areas you had brushed. Some nights he’d fall asleep between your legs, lulled into a slumber by your comfort.

He was scary but you weren’t scared of him. He blushed when you’d laugh and call him a gentle giant. His hand wrapped around yours and it felt like he was keeping you safe, as though his perceived ferocity was actually a mechanism to ensure your peace. He had never been a giver of peace before.

And as you pulled him from place to place, both physically and mentally he realized he had found love in a place he hadn’t expected. As he carried you to bed when you had exhausted your battery for the day, his heart surged. He tucked you in, placing a kiss on your head and pulling the duvet over your shoulders. When you smiled, deep in your sleep, he knew he had done something right.

He had always been alone,

But you were his togetherness. You were the piece missing from the puzzle.

On weekends, he waited for you to wake, watching you as you slowly came to consciousness. He watched you blink the sleep from your eyes, the sun bright against your skin, the wrinkles from the pillow printed on your face. He would trace the lines and you would cling to his chest. There was nothing but the day ahead of you, regardless of what that meant.

And some days were harder than others. Some ended in arguments and some ended in anxious tears shed. Plans were rearranged so you could be there when he came home. Plans were cancelled for his touring schedule. Some nights it wasn’t clear if any of this was worth it. But then he’d take you into his arms and lift you from the ground and kiss your cheek and tell you he loved you. He would hold you so close that you’d realize the second beats of your heart were the beats of his. And that would be enough.

This was new. But this was worth it.

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Deal With the Devil

Since he's returning to tv this week, here's a little bit of angst-y Lance fun.

Pairing: Lance Archer x OFC

Word count: 1,559

Content advisory: sexual content

It’s very simple: all you have to do is not trip Dustin, not gouge him in the eyes, not distract the ref when he’s about to get the pin. If you do nothing but walk to the ring with him and stand by the side like the good valet you’ve been for ages, everything will be just fine. He’s been good to you. He’s played a crucial role in training you. It’s because of him that you’re even on tv. So you raise his hand and gesture to the audience, encouraging them to applaud, not they they need encouragement.

Then the speakers crackle and roar with Archer’s music.

EVERYBODY DIES.

He’s destroyed Dustin before back when you were just a random student before you’d been chosen to be the veteran’s sidekick. Part of your role here is supposed to be to guard against any shit that Archer or his rolling cast of cohorts is going to pull. You have no idea how you’re supposed to do that because his cohorts are bigger and rougher and more experienced than you are but you’ve been staying vigilant. You’ll think of something to help. You always do. Or at least you always have.

Lance strides into the ring like a madman, like he’s physically holding back from tearing someone, anyone, limb from limb. It’s like he doesn’t even know where he is, the bloodlust is so overwhelming, but as he’s pacing around, waiting for the bell to ring, his electric blue eyes meet yours for just an instant and it’s like your whole body freezes. There’s something in his expression that shakes you, like he knows something you don’t, like he knows what you’re going to do even though you’re certain you haven’t figured it out yet.

What’s to figure out? You’re the nice one, the latest graduate from the Rhodes Academy, the one who fought her way into this business despite two severe injuries early in your career. You’re an inspirational story for girls and women about never letting people tell you to give up on your dreams.

“You’d love to be the villain, wouldn’t you?”

If Archer had said ten words to you before he said that, you’d be surprised. You’d always tried to steer clear of him for reasons you couldn’t pinpoint. But a couple of weeks ago, he’d just appeared next to you while you were watching Lee and Brock fight a match on Dark and whispered in your ear. You’d stiffened in place because, yes, that was exactly what you’d been thinking, how liberating it would be to just act terribly.

“So do it,” he cackled. “Let yourself go wild for once.”

You’d shaken your head, as much to clear it as to refuse. “I’m fine where I am.”

“But you could be happier if you were somewhere else.”

A couple of days later, he’d shown up next to you in catering, hovering way too close.

“I could always use someone to help me out. Someone who wasn’t such a stickler for following the rules.”

You’d pinned your thighs together as he spoke, shocked and disappointed at the reaction he stirred in you. This rough animal, this psychopath lit a fire inside you that you’d been trying to quench ever since.

It wasn’t like you’d never looked at him before. For some reason, you’d looked at him a lot. And every time you did, you immediately tried to look at someone else, someone better and kinder and more in control of himself because the last thing you wanted was to be lusting after a goddamned monster.

Had he noticed your lingering stares? He must have. Why else would he have targeted you coming up to his match with Dustin? He sensed your weakness and happily decided to prod the wound.

Not long after the catering incident, you’d seen him when he was about to make his entrance on Dark. He’d locked eyes with you and the cruelest smile had crossed his face. Then he’d let his tongue flick over his lips, turning away only when he had to walk out. You’d run to the washroom to splash water on your face, trying to steady your breathing.

You’re the good guy. You don’t do this sort of shit.

It takes a couple of minutes for Lance and Dustin to lock up but when they do, it’s like watching two bullmoose smashing antlers. You try consciously to keep your eyes on Dustin, that kind face that’s always been there to help you push through your doubts. You try very hard not to look at the leering visage of pure evil, even when you can sense he’s looking at you. Just do the same thing you always do. Stay by the sidelines. Don’t think about it.

It was just a few days ago that he’d appeared behind you in the locker room- somewhere anyone could have seen you- and starting running his hands over your arms.

“So what do you say? You going to come through for me when I take on your man?”

“He’s not my man,” you choked. “He’s my mentor.”

“He’s my next meal. All you have to do is push things along.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

He gave a low, dark laugh. “Because you’re sick of being the nice one. Because you want to know what it would feel like to be bad.”

He leaned in close, his arms tightening around you like an anaconda, and ran his tongue up the length of your neck.

“Because you want to know what I’d do to you afterward.”

Your brain hadn’t felt right since that moment. You’d been almost unable to move at work for fear you’d run into him and have to confront the desire he’d stirred up in you.

You just have to stand here and watch and cheer Dustin on occasionally. It’s easy.

Last night, as you were about to turn off the light and let yourself fantasize for the umpteenth time about what exactly would be in store for you if you did betray Dustin, there’d been a knock at your hotel room door. Your hand had been shaking so hard when you reached for the doorknob that you’d barely been able to turn it.

“I thought maybe you needed a little extra persuasion,” he purred, pressing one giant hand against the base of your throat.

He pushed you backwards until you fell backwards onto the bed and climbed on top of you, hesitating a long moment before he kissed you. Even the kiss felt like some kind of runaway train. Your heart raced and you tried to grab hold of him even as he pulled back.

“See? You know what you really want.”

You wanted to say no. You wanted to give him a shove and tell him to get lost. You didn’t.

Instead, you’d leaned back and moaned longingly as he’d run his hands under your top, squeezing your breasts hard in his grip. And you’d whined as his hands dipped under the waistband of your pajama bottoms, louder and louder as you felt his fingers rubbing along the slick flesh.

“Not so nice now, are you?”

You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood. It brought you back to earth and for an instant, you tried to push away, but he’d pushed two fingers inside you and it was like you were helpless. You yelped as he pumped away, the familiar tension building in your body.

“Not so nice at all.”

He removed his fingers and rubbed them lightly across your cheek and lips so that you could feel just how excited he’d made you. Your face grew hot with shame and you tried to say something to defend your own honor.

As you did, you’d felt him move his pants down a little, his erect cock brushing against your thigh. He pulled your pants out of the way and guided himself against you.

“This what you want?” he teased.

He pushed the head of his cock against your entrance and you gasped because it felt like you were about to get split in half.

“Say it.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, that’s what I want. I want you inside me.”

He gave you an evil little smile. “Then you know what to do.”

He stood up and tucked himself back in before walking back out of the room like nothing untoward had happened.

The fight that’s unfolding before your eyes is violent. A lot of men aren’t strong or experienced enough to get this far with Archer but Dustin is. On his day, he’s capable of beating the Monster.

You close your eyes and move to the side of the ring. As Dustin runs the ropes, you reach out and hook his ankle, sending him flat down and knocking the wind out of him. Archer pounces right away, hammering away at him and finally lifting him up for a spectacular finish before pinning him in the center of the ring. The crowd is howling in disapproval as you run away, slinking towards the back with your traitor’s tail between your legs.

Lance catches up with you as you’re beating your ignominious retreat backstage.

“It felt good, didn’t it?” he grins, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Just imagine how good it’ll feel when I get you alone.

[jfsindel]

Yellow: Lancelot, how old are you? Like do you know your birthday?

Lancelot: It's been awhile since I asked. One moment.

*Lancelot drops a textbook on the ground.*

Archer: You are ten years old; you're too old to be so clumsy.

Lancelot: I'm ten now!!!

[414karan]

Would love it if I could get some genuine reviews on this fanfic! 💙💙

(Link below)

[spop-starsau]

Introduction to the Stars AU: A General Overview/FAQ Post

What is the Stars AU?

Basically, the Stars AU started out as a SPOP AU where Bow and Glimmer accidentally conceive a child shortly after the portal incident. A few months and countless conversations & roleplay sessions later, it’s become a full-fledged AU with separate timelines, a TON of OCs, and plans to write fanfic/commission fan art in the future.

Since we’ve come up with so much stuff for this AU, we decided to make a side blog for it!

@darkmasterofcupcakes and myself (@roses-renegade) are the AU’s co-creators.

Wait, this AU has separate timelines?

Yep! The original version of this AU had Glimmer and Bow conceiving their daughter Andromeda not too long after the portal incident. We have worked on this version of the AU for a while. Around the time that season 5 of SPOP came out, we made an alternate version of the Stars AU (or, an AU of the AU) that was more canon compliant- in this version, Andromeda is conceived shortly after the SPOP finale. We decided to keep both versions of the Stars AU (we usually refer to them as the “canon divergent” and “canon compliant” timelines). For the most part, both versions of the Stars AU have the same story/OCs, but the timelines are just a bit different (since we based the timing of a LOT of the events of the AU on how old Andromeda would be when they occurred).

To give you even MORE of a headache (haha), we also have come up with a “dark timeline” version of the Stars AU, BUT more on that later...

Okay, gotcha. What is the Stars AU about?

The most basic answer to this question is “the events of Bow and Glimmer’s life after the portal incident.”

This AU tackles (among other things) Glimmer and Bow’s season 4 storylines, the development of their romantic relationship, their journey to parenthood, their lives (and, really, everyone else’s lives) after the war, and, eventually, the lives of their children.

Why is it called the Stars AU?

Back when we were first brainstorming names for Andromeda, we came up with this idea that Bow and Glimmer would give all of their kids star-related names. My (@roses-renegade) reasoning for this was that it was sort of a symbolic thing. Glimmer and Bow’s children are going to be growing up in this new era of peace on Etheria. I wanted their names to kind of “reflect” this new era, and one of the most noticeable physical aspects of post-war Etheria is that the stars have returned now that Etheria is out of Despondos and a part of the larger universe once again.

So, yeah. Glimmer and Bow’s kids will get to grow up in this new peaceful world under the stars. Hence, “the Stars AU.”

Okay, so... tell me more about Andromeda, since she basically got this whole AU started.

Princess Andromeda “Andi” of Bright Moon is the daughter of Queen Glimmer of Bright Moon and Bow, Master Archer of the Rebellion (and later the King of Bright Moon). After the portal incident and the “death” of Queen Angella of Bright Moon, Bow and Glimmer ended up getting closer and eventually confessed their feelings to each other. After exploring their feelings and relationship, they ended up having sex one night. They then decided to "take things slow” while dating. Not too long after her coronation, Glimmer found out from Shadow Weaver that she was pregnant. She and Bow decided to keep the baby. A lot of our initial work on this AU was about how Glimmer’s pregnancy affected her season 4 storyline and character arc, as well as her relationship with the other SPOP characters. Around the end of her second trimester/beginning of her third trimester, Glimmer activated the Heart of Etheria (something that both Bow and Adora were against). This caused a massive rift between Glimmer and Bow. However, Bow still tried (and failed) to save Glimmer from being abducted by Horde Prime. Glimmer became a prisoner on the Velvet Glove, and eventually gave birth prematurely on the ship (partially from the immense amount of stress she was under, and partially because the baby may have been affected by Glimmer’s activation of the Heart of Etheria). Catra, who Glimmer had formed an uneasy alliance with while on the ship, ended up helping her deliver the baby. Catra then helped Glimmer (and Andromeda) escape, and the mother-daughter pair were rescued from space by Bow and taken aboard Mara’s ship. Glimmer and Bow soon made up, and Andromeda was put in an incubator (created by Entrapta) on the ship. After that, the majority of what occurred in the canon version of season 5 happened- the gang had some space adventures, eventually got back to Etheria, and Horde Prime was defeated. After Adora and Catra saved Etheria, Glimmer and Bow shifted their focus to making sure that their new little family was okay. Glimmer spent a few days recovering in the infirmary at Castle Bright Moon with Bow by her side. Andromeda, on the other hand, spent a month or so in the infirmary before eventually being “cleared” to go (much to Glimmer and Bow’s immense relief).

Dang, that’s a lot. And that’s only the beginning?

Yep! After developing this “main storyline” of the AU, we shifted our focus to Glimmer and Bow’s life after the SPOP finale. In our AU, a lot happens after SPOP’s “happily ever after”...

What are some of the things that happen afterwards?

Oh, you know... rebuilding Etheria... the BFS going on their little “return magic to the universe” road trips... Glimmer and Bow navigating parenthood... Angella coming back from the dead...

Angella’s back?!

YEP. We thought she (and Micah) deserved better, so... yeah. We brought her back. No regrets. (Glimmer is still queen, though.)

What are the main SPOP ships involved in this AU?

Glimmer/Bow

Catra/Adora

Sea Hawk/Mermista

Scorpia/Perfuma/Entrapta (poly trio)

Micah/Angella

George/Lance

How many OCs does this AU have so far?

Okay, get ready... *deep breath*:

4 Glimbow children

1 Catradora child

3 Seamista children

8 Scorpia/Perfuma/Entrapta children

1 Micangella child

1 Castaliet child

... a few OCs for some of the “next gen kids” to fall in love with... 

Tell me more about these “next gen kids”... 

All in good time. (I’m planning to write some sort of “masterpost” for all of the OCs eventually.)

Okay then. Tell me about this “dark timeline” you mentioned earlier... because that sounded ominous and now I can’t stop thinking about it in the back of my head...

Basically, Glimmer’s final two children were twins, and in the “dark timeline” she dies shortly after childbirth, after a very difficult and stressful pregnancy. The “dark timeline” version of the Stars AU follows the impact of Glimmer’s death on everybody. You know, fun stuff.

Note: Glimmer only dies in the “dark timeline.” She stays alive in the main timeline/version of this AU, which is what we’ll be posting about here 99% of the time anyway.

Wow. You really like to make the characters suffer, huh?

I mean, sometimes, yeah... not always, though! We promise!

Is there fanfiction of this AU that I can read?

Not yet! We’re working on that though...

What kind of things will you be posting on this blog?

Basically anything and everything about the Stars AU... character designs, headcanons, random lore about the Stars AU, fanfic/fan art (eventually), etc. We wanted a place to put everything pertaining to this AU! 

Can I submit questions/prompts/whatever about this AU and its characters?

Yes, always!! We would love to provide you with lore. :)

If I ever feel inclined to draw one of the Stars AU OCs, can I?

Yeah sure! Just make sure you tag us. :)

What’s the tag you’ll be using for this AU?

We will be tagging our posts with #SPOP Stars AU if you want to follow that tag. :)

[centuryofdean]

When Lightning Strikes - Chapter 17

Author Note:: So sorry for the delayed update. I have been going through some issues from work, to my relationship, to my mode of transportation--I haven’t even had the urge to read fanfiction let alone write it. Things are starting to smooth out now so hopefully we can get this story finished!

Author Disclaimer:: The Hobbit, Middle Earth and its characters are not mine. I take no credit. The story line and even some dialogue–also not mine. Instead I claim my Original Character Laurel and the adjustments to the story line.

Summary:: From when Laurel Took was small she dreamed of a man. Every time she dreamed of him, he could not see or hear her. Over time they are able to communicate–but he’s been dreaming about her too. Finally after years of anticipation Laurel takes the leap and kisses him. Only for her to wake up and dread the real world. Then lightning strikes and she finds herself in a familiar place, with a familiar face.

Rated:: M for Mature. Please do not read this story unless you are 18+. NSFW.

Warnings:: Language, Violence and Scenes of Sexual Nature.

Pairing:: Kili x OC (Laurel)

Kili

Most of the conversation that was transpiring around us blurred with my breathing. That and most of it was muffled due to the large amount of fish that was pilled around me. A deep shiver started from my bones and out to the outer layer of my skin. Another deep stabbing pain radiated from my thigh were the orcs arrow pierced it just mere hours ago.

How terribly foolish it was of Laurel to jump into the fray of battle to pull the leaver. Everyone in the company was grateful for her action. We were sitting in plain sight and vulnerable. Though I wished someone else had done the act, I should have done it. There was no question in my mind when I jumped to her aid. I did not know an orc was aiming for her, but I almost sung with relief when I felt the arrow's hot iron in my veins.

She was safe. If I had not interfered that arrow would have struck right to her middle.

Suddenly my barrel was knocked to the side. The act sent me sliding across the wooden floor beneath, aided with the slickness of the fish.

Each of us rose from the barge to follow the man. Once Bilbo helped Laurel up I took over and grabbed her hand to pull her with me. Walking without a grimace or a limp was fairly difficult, though I could not let her see how affected I was. I must be strong and reliable. A child taller than the company ran towards us, "Da! Our house, it's being watched!"

Bard instructed us to get into the water. The ice cold took my breath away. Laurel shivered, in turn I tried to pull her closer to give her some of my heat. We swam underneath the walkway under Bard, following him as he went. It was hard to keep your head tilted just right to breathe and to swim with enough speed to keep up with his brisk walk. Somewhere along the line he must have given instructions elsewhere to someone on where to go.

A soft knock could be heard somewhere above. Dwalin grunted and pulled himself up through an opening above us. "If you speak of this to anyone, I'll rip yer arms off," he snarled at someone on the other side. Bilbo followed, struggling as I tried to push him upwards. I sank beneath the water myself, coming up and gasping for air. Laurel followed next while I repeated the action.

"Da…why are there dwarves coming out of our toilet," a small girl called out above me.

A toilet?

Once we were out of the water and led up the stairs into Bard's home, we were offered blankets and clothing to change into. Laurel disappeared with the small girl children into another room to change. Each of us stripped and re-clothed in the man's clothes. They were large and barely fit in the right places.

Eventually Laurel returned to me. I would not settle for her to take place next to me, and she struggled while I placed her in my lap. "Kili," she hissed softly while placing her hands on my chest.

Idly my hand rose to play with the courting braid in her hair, fingers tracing the bead. "What is it little doe," I asked softly.

Slowly her harsh gaze softened. "It’s not appropriate for me to sit on you like this. Especially in front of everyone," she whispered while she tried to look and see who was staring.

"We are cold. Only offering comfort to one another," I replied curtly, "it is not as if I am caressing you or placing my lips on your skin."

Thorin's voice cut out through the rest of the company. "A Dwarvish Wind-Lance."

Silence became over the company as he paced back and forth in the home.

"You look as if you've seen a ghost," Bilbo's soft voice came over the rest.

Balin cleared his throat as he looked at the lance as well, "He had. The last time we saw such a weapon, the city was on fire. It was the day that Smaug came. The day that he destroyed Dale, the bowman of the city was called upon to kill the beast.

"The dragon's hide is tough, tougher than that of the strongest armor. Only a black arrow could have pierced that hide. Few of these arrows were ever made."

Thorin snorted rudely. The sound was that of insult. "Had the aim of men been true that day, much would have been different," he scowled. My eyes lingered on my own Halfling archer. Her eyes were busy working over the house, taking in everything. They landed above the hearth of the fire, green pines lighting with discover. All that was there was hanging pots and pans.

The boy spoke up, distracting me, voice strong and assured, "You will know that Girion hit the dragon. He loosened a scale under the left wing of the beast. One more shot and he would have killed it."

This is not something that I would doubt myself. The only person I had met personally that could shoot just as well as me or better was Laurel. Sometimes she did not realize just how true her aim was. Without thinking on it long, she killed two trolls and shot bustards out of the sky. All the while being stealthy and quiet. Granted her excellent archery skills were probably instinct from her Elvish traits, but Smaug is meant to be a large dragon. The lance was powerful enough, so aim just had to be well enough to pierce the beast in it's large chest. A skilled human could do it.

Dwalin genuinely smiled for the first time in a long time. "That is only but a fairy story lad. Nothin' more. The beast is unharmed and sleepin' in that there mountain."

"Where are our weapons we were promised," Thorin asked.

Bard left and shortly returned with wet weapons. If you could even call them that. They were clearly handmade and unsuitable. The things were liable to fall apart and not even pierce skin with the hardest swing. Even the confused look on Laurel's face told tales of her hesitance to accept these weapons.

With our escape from Mirkwood, Laurel and Bilbo were able to retrieve us the majority of our weapons. Fighting the elves and orcs had us loosing almost half. Thankfully Laurel had her sword, bow, and arrows. Unfortunately my own broke in my barrel while flowing down the river.

"These are a joke," Bofur hollered over the rest of the complaints.

Bard was covered in rage, "You will not find better outside the city armory. All weapons are held under lock and key."

Eventually an argument broke between uncle and the man. Laurel had long left me to trail along the home in her child dress. It was odd, seeing her in something that was not meant for a woman but a small girl. It almost gave her a childlike appearance. If I had not known she was a grown woman (in the eyes of men) then I would have thought she was in her early to late puberty. After everything I had seen and heard from her lips, I knew better. Laurel was clearly full grown and beautiful.

"Thorin," Laurel hissed from the corner of the room, stopping the argument quickly. "I've seen you kill an orc with your bare hands just hours ago. Bard has done what we asked of him, and paid for, and was even kind enough to give us clothes and warmth. It is very rude to continue to berate him."

Surprisingly enough uncle held his tongue and shot a look of disdain to Bard and not Laurel. The act itself had my eyebrows high and questioning. Fili seemed just as surprised, if not more. Laurel was not a favorite of Thorin's, and neither Fili nor I spoke to him in such a way. Bard grunted and fled from the room, telling his son in hushed whispers that we were not to leave the house. Ideally I would not want to leave at the moment anyway. It was dark and I was tired greatly. The pain in my thigh throbbed harshly, causing me to hiss in the back of my throat. In moments Laurel returned to me, pressing my hair out of my face to hold it softly.

"Would you like something for the pain," she asked.

"'Tis alright," I muttered, "I will survive. You should not talk to uncle like that. Especially in front of the company."

At my words he materialized next to us.

"She was right," he grunted. "He did what was asked, what he was paid for. Tonight we need to sneak into the armory and get those weapons."

Did Thorin just say Laurel was right? With his words my eyes grew and landed on the beauty. Dwalin and Balin called uncle over to discuss the next move of tactic.

Fili slumped next to me, elbows on knees as he peered at Laurel with deep questioning eyes. "What witch craft did you bestow on him," he asked in all seriousness.

"Yes what craft," I muttered along, "and when should I start to question my hearts yearning for you as true or magic?"

Her jaw dropped, hands on hips as her brow furrowed in disbelief. "I am not a witch! I don't know why he is suddenly being nice to me," she whispered the last part.

"They are right," Ori looked perplexed, "it is pretty odd that he suddenly has taken a liking to you. Let alone let you talk to him in such a way. Even if you did save his life."

She huffed and trailed off into the kitchen where the children were standing around cleaning or talking quietly to themselves. I could make out her speaking and introducing herself to them. Every once in a while I could hear her speak up to an unnecessary level, or blocking us from view with her body altogether.

On the other side of the room I could hear Thorin speak loudly of his plans to steal weapons from the city. "Go tell him that he is being too harsh and loud with his theft," I nudged my brother, "the children will hear and tell Bard. He will try and stop us. Laurel is trying to distract them."

I watched as Fili did what I mentioned, and smiled when I saw Thorin's lips twitch at the sight of my love working to help us.

The next hour passed slowly, though over time we were all dry and getting ready to depart. Laurel convinced the boy to lend her a pair of his trousers and shirts. After she changed we rose to leave and carry out our plan.

"Where are you going," the boy stood in the doorway as we tried to exit.

"Please move boy," Balin asked kindly, "we were given what we asked for and paid rightfully for it. We are due to leave and continue on our journey."

The young man shook his head and extended his arms out to either side of the door, "Da said you are not to leave, so you will not leave."

"Bain," Laurel gently grabbed his arms and lowered them, "I'm sorry but we do have to leave. We can't stay. Your father won't blame you for us going, you can't stop us either."

Eventually he nodded and left our exit. The darkness of the night covered our slight forms, but it did not stop the thundering of boots across the wooden planks. No one even knew where to look to begin with. Either way we walked as quietly as we could to find the city armory.

We came upon a large rickety building fort of sorts that was made of wood and bolts. About three dwarves high was a smallish window. Nori heaved Dori on top of his shoulders. "Lass, could ye climb in through the window and let us in through the door," Bofur offered his hand to her. Laurel took it readily and stifled a scream when she was tossed into the air and caught buy Dori. The dwarf heaved her by the feet and pushed her up and to the window. In the dark I could make out her lithe form disappear into the shabby shack.

Moments later the door creaked open softly, revealing my little doe. Half of the company stayed behind to keep a look out while Thorin, Fili, Dwalin, Laurel, and myself started to gather weapons.

Inside there were enough weapons to suffice for a small army of fifty or so. If each member had one sword and smaller weapons apiece. Laurel started to gather all that she could hold, I attempted to take them from her. "Let me carry, I can hold more," I whispered.

"Are you sure? I saw you limping across the walkways," she narrowed her eyes at me.

"Yes," I muttered annoyed. In moments I fought the weapons out of her hands and started to descend the stairs.

Suddenly the searing pain blossomed into something uncontrollable, and I gasped, feeling my leg give out. It happened so quickly but it felt as though ages passed while I fell down the flight of stairs. Each step hit me on the way down, and I could feel swords slicing at my clothes and nicking my skin. What was most worrying was all the noise of my body falling and the metal tinging together made.

Two moments of silence passed. Whistles started to ring through the air, killing any silence we had. Feet hammered down the wooden walkways towards us. Guards were pointing swords and staffs with knifes in our faces. Laurel of course stood in front of me to protect me from the weapons. Silly woman.

One guard grabbed her by the wrist and attempted to yank her away from me. Dwalin, who was closest, jumped and knocked the weapons away from his face to stand in front of her and deter the guard from his actions. "She ain't goin' nowhere, and do not point weapons at a lady you mongrel," he muttered knocking away more spears pointed at us.

Slowly they rounded us up one by one and started to march us to the center of the town, in front of a large brick building. A small greasy man poked his head out, looking alarmed before going back in where he came from. Soon another large bulbous man returned outside with him.

"What is the meaning of this," the larger man stated.

The captain of the guard stood forward, "We caught them stealing weapons from the armory sire."

"Ah, enemies of the state!"

Dwalin tore his way forward to growl at the man, "Hold yer tongue! You do not know to whom ya speak. This is no criminal, this is Thorin! Son of Thrain! Son of Thror!"

Uncle laid a gentle hand on his friend and came into view to speak as well. "We are the dwarves of Erebor. We have come to reclaim our homeland! I remember this town and the great days of old. Fleets of boats carrying fine silks and gems. This was center of all trade in the North, not some peasant forsaken town!

"I would see those days return. We would send wealth and riches from the great flowing halls of Erebor!"

Cheers started to erupt from the people that gathered around us. It seemed that everyone in the town had awoken to see all the commotion. Laurel was holding onto my waist, resting her head on my chest. Without even realizing it I was giving her the heft of my weight. Softly I tried to stand straighter and hold my own.

"Death," Bard's voice echoed around us, "that is what you will bring to us Master Dwarf! Dragon-fire and ruin that will surely come when you awaken the beast. It will destroy us all. You have no right, no right at all to enter that mountain!"

Thorin advanced on the stairs leading up to the building so that he was eye to eye with the tall man Bard.

"I have the only right," he muttered darkly. It was enough to raise the hairs on my neck. "I speak to the Master of the men of the Lake. Will you see us fulfill this prophecy? Will you share in the great wealth of the dwarves of Erebor? What say you?"

The large bulbous man opened his arms wide, chuckling as he spoke, "I say unto you Thorin Oakenshield… welcome! Welcome thrice more, King under the Mountain!"

I felt Laurel hug me a little tighter.

Previous Chapter << Chapter 16: Lucid Trickery

Next Chapter >> Chapter 18: Likeness of One is not the Other

[memcjo]

17 days of Olicity Fanfiction Recommendations and I’m still so amazed by all of our amazingly talented writers!!  Today I want to honor @alexiablackbriar13​. Oh.MY.GOSH. she has 11 pages on ao3! I’ve included a few of her series but also several one shots. It’s so ahrd to pick my favs!!

ao3page

little wonders (twists and turns of fate)~ Oliver and Felicity's drunken mistake of a hook-up in the bunker comes with unexpected consequences in the form of a... souvenir.Deciding to remain romantically uninvolved, the two of them will have to battle all the trials and tribulations of maintaining a platonic relationship while Felicity is pregnant and the two of them are living together, coping with all the emotional baggage that they both bring to the table - and dealing with the fact that they are still very much in love with each other, but scarred by the events that broke them apart in the first place.

Unexpected Visitor~ The five times Quentin Lance unexpectedly finds Oliver Queen hiding in his dark apartment and the one time he doesn’t.

grade 2 right shoulder subscapularis strain~ Oliver Queen is an Olympic archer with a shoulder injury who hates sports therapy with a passion. Dr Felicity Smoak is his new physiotherapist. Sparks fly. Perhaps Felicity can change Oliver's mind.

Not Just a Sock Fetish~ It's not just a sock fetish. Oliver has a reason for needing and loving socks.

shaking (waiting to be done breaking)~Oliver never expected Diggle, Rene, Dinah and Curtis to be waiting for him down in the bunker.He also never expected them to witness Felicity and William attempting to calm him down from the panic attack they trigger

There are SO many on her ao3 page~ I highly recommend you check it out!!

[calamity-queen]

My first piece of Pokèmon fanfiction is up and posted! Can’t wait to write more!

Title: The Secretary

Rating: Mature

Category: M/F

Fandom: Pokèmon

Relationships: Giovanni/Fem!Reader, Giovanni & Giovanni’s Persian, Reader & Giovanni’s Persian

Characters: Giovanni, Reader-Insert, Giovanni’s Persian, Archer (mentioned,) Proton (mentioned,) Lance (Mentioned)

Additional Tags: Workplace Relationship, Smut, Naked Female Clothed Male, Penis in Vagina Sex, Mutual Pining, Desk Sex, Daddy Kink, Choking, Suggested Breeding Kink, Interrupted Sex, Fluff, No Beta Read

Summary: The leader of Team Rocket prided himself on his professionalism in everything, from his public, gym-leader persona to his position as the boss of the most powerful criminal organization in the world. This included how he interacted with his employees, regardless of their gender. But his secretary… something about her drove him absolutely wild with lust.

[cruzrogue]

Worth Fighting For

#Fictober19 @fictober-event

————————————————————————

for fanfiction:

Prompt number: Prompt:28 “Enough! I heard enough.”

Fandom (AU if applicable): #arrow fanfiction #olicity

Rating:PG13

Warnings/Tags: exes clashing with one another

Roy Harper makes an appearance

Summary: Oliver vs Laurel (defending himself and his team) Very AU

Notes: Dedicated to Bluedove who supplied earlier prompts to Fighting Words (ch6) & Fighting Actions (ch20) This is for you… Worth Fighting For... Hope you like it. To everyone I hope you enjoy. Thank you!

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

Worth Fighting For on A03

There has been a delicate air of balance amongst the team members slowly building up. Between Ra's al Ghul, the surge of criminals trying to make their name in the city, and still figuring out the deal with Sara’s death. With Laurel Lance in the mix there is a sort of resentment that’s creeping among the morale within the foundry walls. The lawyer still hasn’t found her niche within this group and now seems to belittle Roy who is trying his best not to snap. His annoyance best used to go out on patrol or beefing up on his training. He misses Oliver’s sister so when Laurel speaks to him in a matter-in-fact tone about knowing Thea so well it just pisses him off to no end.

Case and point is what she is doing right now. She’s sitting on a stool looking at an array of gizmos Oliver is working on. Little trick arrows that he and Felicity have measured and designed to fit properly. None of them yet properly tested. He’ll be doing that with Roy later on.  

“Does she know?”

Roy hitting the Wing Chun Dummy one last time before turning his attention to Laurel. “What?”

“I said, does she know?” Roy not having the slightest clue to what she is talking about gives her a blank stare. His thoughts turn to Felicity who he’s been hanging out with. She’s cool. Like a sister cool. “How dense are you?”

“Lady, I’m about to lose it if you don’t get right to the point. Are we talking about Felicity?” He’s in love with Thea and as much as he enjoys her company she’s already spoken for. She’s great in the sister role. Loves her to death. “Because I don’t get what you are hammering about?”

“Thea, but wait you hang out with Felicity? Oliver is okay with that?”

“Seriously? What is your problem?”

“Here I thought your every waking thought was on Ollie’s sister but…”

“Hey! Don’t go there!” He’s seriously giving her a scowl. She just smirks. The boy just admitted that Felicity isn’t so squeaky clean. She raises her hand to signify she’s done. Felicity not only has the eye for her new boss but spends her extra time with Roy. How convenient? How this girl got all these guys eating out of her paws.

“Actually I was in the midst of asking does Thea know of you extra activities?” Making sure to point to the arrows.

“No. Oliver isn’t keen on the idea.”

She just is bemused. “You’re really allowing the brother of the girl you supposedly love from the truth from a man who has perjured himself, cheated, and killed.”

“He has his reasons.”

“That’s it. You’re just going to allow him to dictate how you live your life?”

Roy grumbles lowly at her. He doesn’t need her to point out anything. He understands Oliver’s reasons after joining the crusade sometimes keeping people in the dark keeps them safe. He understands from John at least that Laurel finding out was never the intent of team arrow. Instead of Laurel trying to help people in a courtroom she’s here bothering him.

“You looked smarter than that.”

“Really?” He shakes his head. “Your using psychology on me? I’m out of here.” He grabs his jacket and books it. Leaving Laurel to just sit there and look at the empty foundry.

This is the first time that’s she’s really down here alone. With no other member of this ragtag group. She decides to really take stock of the place she has been hanging around more frequently as to show she isn’t going anywhere.

Its crazy how much work it seems it takes to make arrows. She gets the gest of why he uses that form of weaponry even though John using a gun seems more likely a better bet. She’s seen the petite blonde using this section it seems its her domain. She doesn’t like that this techie even has a domain. She learned her lesson to not underestimate Felicity. It seems the petite has a meaner streak. Sitting in the woman’s chair she takes the vantage point of what Felicity gets to see and notices the salmon ladder that Oliver always seems to not do when she is around.

She is about to start the middle computer when she hears a voice from the staircase, “I wouldn’t touch her babies.”

Her fingers pull back and she glanced at the computer monitors. “Oh God, she probably even named them.” Laurel looking disgusted.

“She might have but that is her story to tell. Why are you down here? Specifically, why are you in Felicity’s domain?”

“I was actually taking a look around everything and landed here. It is the focal point of the foundry.” She actually never really thought about it before but Felicity is the center of the crowed basement of Verdant.

“We don’t touch the computers or servers down here. Not without some sort of approval.”

“You are pulling my leg.”

“No! These aren’t your standard computers anyhow.”

“Wow! She really makes herself be indispensable. No wonder you guys bow to her.”

“Felicity isn’t like that and you know that well enough. The woman knows she’s smart but she is also humble.”

“What she stopped telling you she’s a genius?”

“As much as I’ve refrained from telling her I’m an archer. We both know each other.”

“She really has you wrapped around her finger.”

“She’s wonderful, she’s kind, she’s a real asset to the team. She’s just someone… She’s just special.”

“You sound like you were trying to sell her. Now that she is only your friend.”

“Her safety, happiness means the world to me. Even if I can’t be the one, I want her happy.”

“Yet, you say your friends but she barely has time for…” Her hands scope the foundry as she finishes, “For any of this.”

“She’s busy. She needs to work. I understand that.”

“Though she used to follow you around at QC.”

“Well we worked together. She would have been a better C.E.O.”

“Yea, I bet. Then the money would have trickled down into her pockets.”

“I’m not as rich but I still have plenty of money.”

“Well maybe that is why she isn’t here.”

“You know she’s at her job.” He gives her a funny look. “It is working hours. Unlike you I suppose she doesn’t make her own hours.”

“Are you inferring to something?”

“No, not at all. I don’t have a nine to five job so I can’t begrudge anyone.” He just shrugs.

“I was just pointing out that now that you need her the most she’s shacking up with someone who can buy her stuff.”

Oliver takes a deep breath he is actually expecting this from her. Felicity is a grown woman who isn’t bound to him. He is pushing the woman he loves away and as much as its making him miserable it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want Felicity to be happy. If Ray can give her what he surely lacks comfort, stability, and it pains him to say it but if the man can love her right he isn’t going to begrudge that relationship.

“Oliver she is a teammate. I admit she’s really good at this tech stuff but she’s doesn’t really know you. Like I do.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Deep in my bones I know that there is nothing that truly stands between us.”

He closes his eyes. This moment couldn’t get any worse. He’s losing the woman he loves. Seemly has a woman he can’t ever shake off. He knows there is something off about his sister. Ra’s al Ghul is a tremendous opponent. The SCPD is out to get him. Life just sucks all around.

“Laurel, I’m not into you.”

She shakes her head slightly amused, “Oliver, you know you need me. I’m the fixture in your life that has always been constant. It’s fate.”

“I really don’t know what I need to say or do for you to understand I’m not that guy. You aren’t in love with me.”

He gets taken aback when she screams at him. “You don’t know what you are saying!” Her finger points at him her voice rising in pitch, “I’m the woman who has been there for you. Always there. Don’t you dare tell me how I feel. You’re the one who doesn’t know how to feel.”

“You are right.” He pauses, “I don’t feel anything for you.”

“You lie.”

“I really don’t think we should…”

“Shove it! You and your indecisive tendencies to never commit. I feel pity for her thinking you’d…”

“Don’t!”

“Don’t what? Talk about how much of a jerk you are? You left with my sister. Disappeared and have the gall to waltz back and now decide what others can and can’t do?”

“If that is the case you wouldn’t be here. Your sister loved you. You have no idea the savagery outside these foundry walls. I get you’re mad at me. I can live with that. That is my guilt to carry.” With the look she gives him he continues, “I don’t love you Laurel, not in the way you deserve. That I will not apologize for… Ever!”

“You have got to be kidding me?”

“No. I beyond serious. If you want to stay. Fine stay. Just know that there is nothing between us but some past history that doesn’t define me anymore.”

“You are going to stand there and once again lie to my face.”

Oliver now beyond annoyed, “That’s the thing Laurel. I’m not lying, for once hear me tell you at face value that I’m totally over any semblance of an us.”

“Its because of Felicity, right?”

His hands go to his head. This woman is unbelievable. When it comes to him her brain short circuits. Then again, she always was around for the prestige and now that he doesn’t have the wealth, he hoped she’d move on. Finally letting him live his life unattached to a Lance.

“Laurel, let it go.”

“Like I let Tommy go?”

“I just can’t with you!” He just wishes she would stop. Tommy is dead. There is enough guilt to go around. She has her own demons to deal with and he told her he was done chasing after her. He meant it. It doesn’t mean he can’t be cordial because like she stated they had history but more important he wants to do right by Sara’s memory. “I really can’t. I can’t be any clearer that there is no us. I can’t be any clearer that you trying to walk in your sister’s shoes won’t end badly for you.”

“You just hate that I’m excelling in boxing under Wildcat’s tutelage and that Nyssa is showing me some moves.”

“Do you even listen to yourself?”

“How am I different than Roy? Or John and Felicity?”

“You know darn well John’s equipped and Felicity stays behind the scenes and yes you do have some parallels to Roy. The difference is Roy isn’t charging against league taught Merlyn. Like you insanely did. He could have killed you without blinking an eyelid.”

“Well he didn’t.”

“I don’t know his reasons nor do I care. You’re just lucky to be alive until the next villain.”

“Then train me like you are doing with Roy”

“No! Roy needs an outlet.” Oliver not moving in his opinions. “You need to step back and go back to using that law degree.”

“Like I said, you think you can make up the rules and every one follows I’m not like that I will honor my sister.”

“Fine, you are going to do what you want anyways. Sara’s sacrifice created the Canary Mantle, the discipline, attitude, honed skills from surviving which she had to do to stay alive.” He doesn’t need to add the obvious that some midnight boxing classes won’t cut it. That her pompous living style is far from reality of what’s in store. That he’d have his team and himself look out for her because Felicity would never let them live it down. She may have a chip with Laurel but she’d always do what is right. That is what being heroes is all about.

Laurel isn’t done yet, “Enough! I heard enough.”

Oliver not backing down is about to add more choice words when both Oliver and Laurel turn to Felicity that has both her hands on her hips.

“I heard more than enough! Both of you step away from this space or…” Looking at Laurel first, “I will knock you to kingdom come and don’t even try my patience.” Then looking at Oliver, “You better have more than a pint of ice cream to calm me down. You know exactly how much these babies cost and how much blood, sweat, and tears I’ve given to them.” Without any words both Laurel and Oliver move out of the designated Smoak space. “Now we are all adults here. We have a common goal. We don’t always have to like each other but let’s get something straight.”

“Felicity?” Oliver tries to interject.

Just as Laurel says, “Get what straight?”

“You want to be a part of Team Arrow?” She hears Oliver deject that team name but she doesn’t really listen or care right now to that objection. “Then figure how to work with us and not against us. We aren’t into power plays. We are a family...” She takes a moment to gaze at Laurel. For once the woman is taking in what Felicity is saying. Somewhat amazed that Laurel hasn’t said a word, she adds, “Worth Fighting For.”

That was the last time that there was a big riff with Laurel versus each member as they began to synchronize as a team. The Canary title changed as Felicity dubbed her the Black Canary, sweet homage to the original.

Nothing is ever simple in the lives of vigilantes there are always highs and extreme lows and somewhere in the middle there is a mending road that the past can stay there and a future of promises can make its footing. The old script that time changes things moves them all along. Some people believe in happily ever after. The notions that heroes deserve to flourish. Well in this case, Oliver Queen gets the girl. John Diggle gets to add two more little ones to his family. Laurel Lance is finally happy with her life choices. Roy Harper loves being an uncle with Thea by his side. Felicity Smoak loves bossing people in her own company… Unfortunately, she gets bossed at home by a few prodigy fair-haired angelic offspring that are more like their dad each coming day as archery truly is becoming a family trait.

[ronswansoneatsmyass]

Where's the Thunderpike fanfiction??? I mean??? Badass dual weilding, heavy armor, high constitution warrior class Keith????? Badass archer, light armor, high dexerity rouge class Lance????? So much potential for greatness??? WHERE IS IT??!!!!!!

[apfelm00s]

I... Tried to draw Lance as the Archer in the fic "From the Ruins, We shall Rise" by @thespace-dragon and I failed miserably I'm SO SORRY FOR RUINING HIM! Just ignore it. So yeah I just wanted to say that I love, LOVE this fanfiction and I can't wait to see in which direction the whole story is gonna go! I'm in love with the world and how the characters are portrayed or the interactions between them! Also the bond between dragon and human is so damn interesting I'm just... AMAZED everytime I think about this fic! This story got me and I'm so damn happy it exists!! Even tho the author doesn't always have the time to write and has her own problems I'm happy she tries to do this and that makes me even more grateful for being able to read it. Give it a read if you like (long) fantasy AUs!!

[prixmiumarchive]

I was tagged by @lostinthespeedforce​ - thanks!

Rules: Answer these questions and come up with 5 of your own.

1.) What is your favorite(s) TV show?

Right now my favorite TV show is Arrow and the DCTV crossovers. I always love Doctor Who. Sometimes more, sometimes less, but it never goes away.

2.) Favorite Marvel and/or DC characters?

Marvel: Gamora, Kate Bishop, (comics/Fraction!) Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Eli Bradley, Tommy Shepherd, Natasha Romanoff

DC: Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, Felicity Smoak, John Diggle, Dick Grayson (YJ), Artemis Crock (YJ), Wally West (YJ), Kaldur’ahm

3.) Any hobbies?

Trying to write fanfiction. I once got into crochet for a while but I’ve forgotten. Same with guitar. I like makeup but often don’t feel like doing much.

4.) Do you have a childhood nickname and what is it?

I haven’t had a consistent nickname before the past few years. My nickname on the internet has become Prix with certain people.

5.) What’s your favorite holiday?

I love that time period between Christmas and New Years. Some years I like Christmas more, other times New Years, but that Liminal Space between the two is awesome. Halloween aesthetic is also something I really love, but probably the former.

My Questions:

1.) Which fiction trope do you want for any and all of your favorite characters or ships all the time?

2.) What is your favorite color at the moment (describe as much as needed)?

3.) What is your favorite superhero type and why? (super-strength users, super-spies, super-speedsters, archers, martial artists, magic users, etc.)

4.) What is your favorite movie there is little or no fandom presence for (that you know of)?

5.) What is something you look forward to?

Tagging: (If you want) @morethanprinceofcats, @12freddofrogs, @onequartercanadian, @benperorsolo, and @thebleakcabal and anyone else who wants to tag me back!

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Scary Monsters

I almost had a heart attack when I saw Lance Archer make that hellacious landing on a move he's done a thousand times. Pro wrestling is very scary sometimes. So of course, that got me thinking about him and, well, here we are.

Pairing: Lance Archer x OFC

Word count: 2,620

Content advisory: explicit/ rough sexual content, language out the wazoo

He likes it hard and fast and rough, which is appropriate to someone who calls himself the Murderhawk Monster, there’s never any tenderness in what he does, no intimacy, which seems bizarre given he’s inside your body, taking the kind of pleasure that comes from nothing else. Taking is the operative word; in the years this has been going on, he’s never given anything and yet you feel like you get everything from it. You’re so sick with want and emotion that being used like this is enough.

When he’s done, he just grunts and tucks that huge cock back in his pants. You’re dismissed. You know you’re not the only one, you never have been, but you’re the only one he seems to keep coming back to and you suppose that’s something. Better than nothing. Not much better.

This started in Japan, where he’d noticed you staring at him, wide open eyes trying to take in the almost endless expanse of him. He’d be as rude to you as he was to everyone else outside his Suzuki Gun mates but you couldn’t stop staring or fantasizing about what it would feel like to have that angry giant unleash himself on you. He never had to sweet talk you. He’d barely had to talk to you at all. One night he was pissed after a loss and he just grabbed your arm and hauled you back to his room.

“Ride me,” he’d growled at you, and you’d been more than happy to oblige, although you were just barely able to keep your balance. He’d gotten annoyed and grab your hips so that he could slam into you as hard as he wanted, like he wanted to split you in half. He’d kept his eyes closed, like he wanted to think you were someone else, but he’d smiled a little when you’d whimper or cry out from the force of him inside you, or the feeling of his rough hand grabbing at your breasts.

No sooner had he finished then he gave you a half hearted push.

“Get out.”

It was humiliating. What was more humiliating was that you were so excited that you’d finally gotten Lance Archer to notice you. Given how uninterested he seemed to be, that you felt like nothing more than a convenient, obliging hole, you didn’t expect anything would ever happen again. But it did. He’d go out with his friends to hostess clubs, he’d happily play around with the whores that sponsors provided or horny fans who worked their way backstage, but you never saw him with the same woman twice (and you were looking, always). So while he might have treated you like nothing but a warm receptacle, it was your body he kept coming back to.

You don’t know why you never told anyone what was going on. Perhaps because it was an open secret that you were completely in love with Lance that you feared no one would believe you. And the way he treated you, you couldn’t have blamed them. Most of the time, it was like you didn’t exist, and if you did, it was like you were the lowest of the low. Perhaps he was ashamed of the fact that he liked fucking you so much. You know you’re not ugly but you’re very aware that you’re not the kind of knockout he gets to be with most of the time. Perhaps it was because you’re mooning over him was such a joke with his friends that he felt embarrassed.

When Cody had asked you to move back to America and join in the newly founded AEW, you’d hesitated. As stupid as you were, you hated the idea of leaving Japan, of leaving him. And as you hemmed and hawed for weeks, you realized that, whether he knew what was going on or not, Cody was at least aware enough that he knew why you were hesitating.

He cornered you one day and grabbed you by the chin to force you to look him right in the eye.

“There is fuck all for you here,” he’d insisted. “You stay here, you’re in a holding pattern for the rest of your life. You’re way too gifted to be doing this gofer shit. You should be running shows and if you come with us that’s exactly what you’ll be doing. I will put a contract in front of you next week for more than you’ll ever make here. Don’t piss your life away out of loyalty to people who don’t appreciate it. You’re way too good for that.”

It was the most honest anyone had ever been with you, although you suppose there was a brutal honesty to the way Archer treated you. But in the end, Cody had pierced through your self-loathing and you’d agreed to go. And true to his word, the following week he handed you a contract with a number on it that was more than you would ever have made in Japan.

“You’re going to get whatever you want,” he assured you. “This is your ticket.”

Not everything I want, you’d thought. Now you wonder if he knew even then that Archer would be joining them as soon as his New Japan contract ran out.

The first night he showed up, glowering from the audience, attracting attention without saying a word, your heart was racing so fast you were barely able to work. People kept looking to you for direction and you’d stare back because you were hardly aware of what they were saying. Tony Khan waved a hand in front of your face at one point because he’d apparently been talking to you for about five minutes and you’d been in a kind of trance.

“Have you had enough to eat? Can I get you something?” he queried.

You felt like a pile of rat shit because he wasn’t even angry that you had basically turned into a lovesick zombie. He was just worried that you weren’t feeling well and even when you assured him that you were fine, he’d insisted you sit down for the remainder of the broadcast and kept slipping you oatmeal cookies (from where you had no idea) and giving you concerned looks.

After the show, you made a point of hanging just on the periphery of His vision and just when you were convinced that he wasn’t ever going to even acknowledge your existence, he’d marched over and grabbed your arm to drag you back to the showers, bending you over a sink and once again starting the cycle of animal lust between you.

At one point, you broke the unspoken agreement that no eye contact was ever made and turned your head so you could see him. When he noticed, he’d clamped one of his massive hands over your face and pushed it back down.

“I missed you,” you whimpered.

“Shut up.”

And ever since, it’s been back to that same self-destructive cycle. You can’t even look at other men because all you want is to feel that monster violating you. And in spite of all evidence to the contrary, you keep dreaming of a time when he’s going to gather you up and carry you back to his room and the two of you will make love, that you’ll spend hours exploring each other’s bodies and those impossibly bright blue eyes will be locked on you the whole time, the snarling facade will fall away and he will live up to every unfulfilled fantasy you’ve had about him.

Of course, that never happens.

The worst is when Suzuki shows up, a few days before he’s set to make his shock AEW debut. He takes one look at you and laughs.

“You still hanging around?” he asks.

“I’m the show runner,” you croak.

“Who runs you?”

He stalked off, still chuckling because he knew the answer to his own question. That contract you got can have whatever number you can imagine. You’re still a pathetic little stain as far as these guys are concerned.

As is customary after a big show, the whole company heads to whatever place Tony has booked and dives into serious party mode. This is the biggest party yet because it’s the biggest show yet. Even by the time you get there, it’s already well under way. Marko is dancing on a table with a goddamn lampshade on his head. That’s how quickly things have escalated. At first you’re tempted to just hang out in whatever corner is closest to Archer but he’s throwing back drinks with Suzuki and you’re not nearly drunk enough to abase yourself that much, so you set to work on changing that.

At one of these parties, you’d gotten tipsy and tried to nonchalantly drag Lance onto the dancefloor with you. He’d leaned down and hissed into your ear.

“Get your fucking hands off me right now.”

It felt like there was a legitimate danger that he was going to demolish you as if you were an opponent in the ring, so you’d backed off. A couple of hours later he had you doubled over, whining for him as he pounded into you in a bathroom stall. And you’d counted that as a successful night.

This time, though, you have to fight the added fear of Minoru Suzuki, so you make your way to the bar where Private Party are leading about a half a dozen people in a chant of “Shots! Shots! Shots!”

“Drinking this fuckin’ thing!” CM Punk slams a shot glass down in front of you and sure, you’re wondering why the straight edge guy is ordering you to drink but it’s not like it’s the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, so you just nod and he laughs.

You get enough of a whiff of the drink to know that you’re about to be in serious trouble but, what the hell, nothing ventured, nothing gained, so you down it and it is the worst thing that has ever happened to you. It tastes like you ate a live barbecue coal.

“What the hell is that?” you scream at no one in particular.

“It’s called a Four Horsemen!” Matt Hardy gushes, laughing at your obvious pain.

“It fuckin’ feels like it,” you whine, trying to catch your breath. “What the hell is in it?”

“Tequila, whisky, bourbon, and scotch.”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“Nah. You want another?”

“My mouth feels like I licked hell.” It’s at that moment that you notice Archer has his arm slung around Jamie Hayter. “Yeah, sure, hit me again.”

Several of the guys cheer as you down another shot glass of fucking poison. Still doesn’t make you as numb as you need to be right now.

*

You have not been this drunk since college. Every time you go to walk you find yourself bouncing off something or other. You and Kris Statlander keep unadvisedly dancing, although you’re not even certain there’s a dancefloor or if you’re just kicking it in the middle of a regular bar because both of you keep bumping into tables and chairs. There are other people dancing but they’re just as far gone as the two of you. Adam Cole keeps trying to get you and Kris to make out, which you don’t, but you tease it several times and his face gets pale every time.

Somehow, this leads to you and Cole standing in the hallway that you think leads to the bathroom but you’re really not sure because you can’t remember where the bathroom was the last time you used it. He’s laying on the charm so thick you can feel it even through your drunken fog and for once, you just let yourself fall into it, by which you mean him, because every time you laugh at one of his jokes, you kind of crash into him, not that he seems to mind.

“So it is really fucking cool to meet you,” he croons, pushing you back against the wall and caging you there with his arms. “Because you are just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh I’ve been warned about you,” you drawl, because you know you have heard that he’s a complete man whore but at the moment, that actually seems kind of appealing, so you run your hand up his chest and let your hand rest on his neck while you try to keep your eyes focused on his face.

“Oh really?” he chuckles, leaning in close. “And what have all those concerned citizens be telling you about me?”

“Get lost.”

The voice comes as such a shock that your head snaps back and bangs painfully against the wall.

Cole looks like he’s about to argue but there is Archer in all his monstrous glory, looking like he’s about to rip a head, any head, from its body.

“No need to get aggressive,” Adam mutters, throwing up his hands and quickly beating a retreat.

You want to say something. You kind of want to tease Lance about being jealous but the look on his face tells you that that would be a very, very bad idea. That look is enough to cut through a lot of the drunken stupor and you unconsciously straighten your back to try to look a little more composed.

He approaches you and you feel yourself clinging to the bricks of the wall for support. One of his paws clamps around your head and his eyes are just bearing down on you like you’re his prey.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to get properly laid?” Because, if you’re going to die, you might as well go down in a blaze of glory.

His nostrils flare a little. You’ve never seen this up close. The energy around him is different. It’s terrifying. You’re not used to him staring at you like this. Hell, you’re not really used to him looking at you.

“Where’s your friend Jamie?” You try to turn your head as if you want to look for her in the bar but his grip on you tightens and pushes you back to face him.

“You wanna repeat the answer you just gave me?” he snarls.

“No, not really.” You’re shaking a little because for once, you have no idea what’s about to happen. “I think maybe we should just go back to the party and… you know… have fun…”

“Too late for that.”

There’s a long pause where he seems to be fidgeting before he grabs your arm and slams it against the wall. You feel something cutting into your palm, like he’s giving you some kind of scar or brand. Property of the Murderhawk. Keep the fuck away.

“Black truck parked all the way at the far side of the lot.” When he speaks, you realize that what he’s pushed into your hand is a car key. “You get your ass in there and you wait for me. Understand?”

You nod, trying to steady yourself under the weight of his stare.

“Go.”

So here you are, feeling like a disobedient child, sitting in the front seat of an almost intimidatingly large vehicle, the only thing that could accommodate such an intimidatingly large man. You’re a little surprised that he doesn’t leave you waiting long.

Glaring straight ahead, he clambers in and slams the door. Mutely, you hand over the key but he hesitates before he reaches over and grabs hold of your jaw, thumb and forefinger pressing into your throat.

“I hope for your sake you don’t have to work tomorrow.”

You shake your head vigorously.

“Good.” He starts the car and smirks a little. “Let’s fucking go.”