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#soft focus Hal I love you I love you I love you
mickidona · 2 years
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“He's wearing a woman's shirt, and nothing happens.”
Inspired by this wonderful drabble by @salzundhonig , please go read it and experience the second hand gender euphoria like I did ! Hal’s gender exploration is so deeply important to me and this fic sums it up like nothing else.
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chocolateteapotsvis · 16 days
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Can I ask for Bachelorette and Crane husband?
So Bachelorette is basically doing as season of the Bachelor TV show, except as an alternate universe version of the Justice League getting together.  For anyone lucky enough to be unfamiliar with the show, it’s a reality dating show where 30ish contestants arrive to date and marry the lead, the titular Bachelor/Bachelorette.  Theoretically.  These days it’s known more for scandals, cringe, and former contestants going on to sell diet tea on Instagram.
Anyway, the story:  After the last disastrous season of the Bachelor which ended with several contestants, including the lead, going missing, Lex Luthor is trying to shake up the Bachelorette formula by bringing in Diana Prince, the franchise's first openly bisexual lead.  Are the contestants here to find love, fame, or, the ultimate right reason, saving the world?
The idea was for it to be a mix of character POVs going through the challenges, discovering the superpowers people are hiding, and falling in love, and not necessarily with the Diana.  I absolutely bit off more than I could chew with this, since when I started it I had written exactly nothing else with multiple POVs and this one had 4+, with at least two major ships and a bunch of side ships.
I also wanted to mix what was actually happening with some of the more reality TV things, like the confession cam segments where they sit in an empty room talking to the producers.  This scene is a couple weeks into the show, when Hal and Barry have really connected on a personal level, but before anyone’s really figured out any of the superhero stuff.
Hal: Barry?  Yeah, he’s my best friend in the house.  He’s one of those people you don’t think exist outside of, like, fairy tales and shit.  Like, real people don’t care that much, especially not about people like—  Don’t tell him this, because I’ll deny saying any of it, but he makes me believe in all that stuff, and it makes me feel better about myself knowing he calls me a friend too.
Barry: Hal’s someone I never would have met in real life, and I’m grateful for the show for that.  And yes, in this process, spending twenty four hours a day in a house full of strangers in this strange bubble, and the heightened emotionality of everything here… I guess what I’m saying is that you connect with people more quickly, go through months of relationship development in a much shorter amount of time.  I’m sorry, I’m not used to talking about this sort of thing.  *laughs*  You’d think I would be after doing so many of these interviews. He’s so many of the things I wish I could be.  Does he rub some people the wrong way?  Of course.  Do I personally agree with everything he’s said or done here?  No.  But he’s unabashedly who he is, and that’s something to admire.  … I do hope we can stay friends after the show, yes.  I hope my life isn’t too boring for him after the glitz and glamour of being on The Bachelorette has worn off.  *laughs*  But for now, I’m privileged to be his friend, and I’m going to try to focus on that. Producer: That’s great.  Now could you do that again except use the word “journey” instead of “process”?
You can find the inspiration for Crane Husband here, and another snippet here!  The basic premise is that Barry helps Hal, magical crane person, getting to know each other, and helping each other through misguided attempts to pay back past kindnesses.
Barry’s latching the final storm shutter when something white tumble out of the sky. He secures the warm glow inside the how behind the shutters, then turns, and dashes after it. The winds whips around him, stinging at his eyes and tugging at his coat to pull him off his feet.  He stumbles against the already soft ground, his hands doubly chilled. The world darkens again, late evening imposed by the clouds.  Barry can just make out the dark shapes of the trees ahead; his cabin is, thankfully, more visible, the dark splotch distinguished by the line of light sneaking through the shutters.   It can’t be much farther.  I can make it. The rain starts as he enters the tree line, a few fat drops soaking straight through his coat before he reaches the relative protection of the trees.  It’s even darker here, but then lightning flashes and he sees the patch of white. He’s shrugging out of his coat before the thunder hits, approaching as cautiously as he can while half running, half stumbling towards the poor creature. It’s so small, white feathers dull and muddy, and wing bent at a sickening angle.  It doesn’t move when Barry holds out a tentative hand, not quite touching it.  It’s still warm.  He carefully gathers it up in his coat, clutching the light bundle as securely but gently as he can. As he rushes into the downpour, huddled over his charge to protect it as best he could, he realizes why the crane struck him as so vulnerable.  He’s never seen one alone before.
Thanks for the ask!
WIP Ask Game
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sinhasaheart · 1 year
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Manifesto
A HalSin fic written for and dedicated to @elba-stardo because he is so damn cool. BFF <2 Here's 7000+ words of HalSin trying to recruit each other. Reader discretion advised.
When Sinestro stumbles back into the central command post, he's a little dishevelled. Dried blood speckles the golden shine across his body.
Yellow Lanterns are the first to reach Sinestro's side. No better than flies buzzing around, they're a nuisance to Hal. Still, Hal's compelled to compete with them. Being accompanied in his focus on Sinestro is a newer vexation when rightfully it should just be the two of them alone together.
Sinestro waves his Corps away. Even though they are his army, sworn to serve, he'll never trust them or anyone else.
Taking the chance, Hal steps forward. "Where'd you disappear to?" Souring his tone is a trace of resentment. "You missed the big 'thank you' speech. It was very touching."
In answer, Sinestro unfurls his fingers, releasing a handful of bloodied yellow rings that clatter to the ground. Both Hal and the Sinestro Corps members draw back, equally startled.
"My Lanterns," Sinestro explains with an air of great boredom. "They thought it wise to challenge me. I taught them otherwise." These days, it's the only teaching he ever does. He glances to the Lanterns who remain alive. "Clean this up. And inform the Keeper. I shall join her shortly."
Of course, the Lanterns are terrified of their leader, scrambling to obey. Some of them are shaking as they prostrate themselves on the ground and crawl to pick up the rings. As they flee Sinestro's presence, they're tripping over themselves.
The scene leaves Sinestro rather pleased. Though he doesn't enjoy being attacked, it has provided the perfect opportunity to remind his Corps of their place.
"Does that happen a lot?" Watching the whole thing, Hal's been a bit bemused.
Instantly, Sinestro is on alert. Only concern shapes Hal's expression but that means little. Showing any vulnerability to Hal can't be allowed. It's a determination practised over decades by Sinestro, the knowledge of what Hal will do haunting him. He will not be tricked back into it.
"My Corps," Sinestro states, "answers to me. There is no weakness here for you to exploit."
The hostility is a bucket of ice water. All the closeness Hal cherished with Sinestro, regained during their brief alliance, has vanished. It's the withdrawal of a priceless gift, snatched from Hal's fingers without warning. Now he's left kicked to the kerb on the other side of Sinestro's defences.
Grimacing, Hal resigns himself. "So we're back to this. For the record, I wouldn't use it against you. I wouldn't even know how."
"Join forces with my most treacherous pets," Sinestro invites smoothly. "Kill me. Do it now while you assume I am recovering from what must have been quite the gruelling battle. Act quickly to end your greatest threat."
It's reminiscent of their past when Sinestro offered a solution for each of Hal's petty problems. Now the solutions are applied to problems that are much more messed up.
"I don't want to kill you," Hal says quietly. "And I don't want them to kill you either. You're not hurt, are you?" There is none of Sinestro's purple blood in sight but Hal worries regardless. An assassination attempt isn't something to walk off.
Sinestro turns his head away. "You will find no weakness in me," he repeats, tone as hard as steel.
"Why do you have to do this?" Hal's voice is rough. "I don't want to be your enemy."
In Sinestro's responding laughter is bitter mockery. "We are enemies, Jordan. You know that."
Soft red flares up Hal's neck while the muscles in his jaw clench. Though he's plainly frustrated, he says nothing, showing remarkable control.
Battle is simpler. Without Hal lashing out, Sinestro has time to obsess over the lovely blush of colour decorating Hal's skin. It's put there by the stubborn opposition Hal has to warring with Sinestro. Nothing can be more affirming.
Finally, Hal tries, "Your Corps is awful. Don't you miss trusting your partners won't stab you in the back?"
Pain shocks across Sinestro's chest, suddenly and violently, tossing him into turmoil. Hal is cruel. That cruelty bewilders Sinestro. It's as though Hal is unaware of what he causes, rubbing in one of Sinestro's most painful moments.
"Trust?" Sinestro's eyes glow with yellow light. "Nothing but a dream for the pathetic. You ought to know it."
"I just don't know why you keep them around." Hal is exasperated. "They're a liability... Why do you even need them? You could take on the entire GLC with just a stick and win."
The compliment soothes Sinestro somewhat and he twirls his moustache around his finger with a half smirk. "Of course."
What Sinestro really needs is everything his enemies have and more. Driving his actions is the spiteful desperation to be better than those who have wronged him and make them all regret it.
Sinestro fixates back on Hal. "Why do you remain with your Corps? You cannot enjoy the govern of uncaring masters who see little worth in you beyond a number."
"I asked first," Hal quickly points out. "You'll get yourself killed. And for what?"
Truly, Hal is atrociously judgemental with his familiar indignation that's a little mean and insulting to all Sinestro's decisions, but it's because he's upset by the thought of Sinestro's eventual murder. Underneath the condemnation, Hal wants them to be in the same Corps. He wants to be the one protecting Sinestro.
It's wonderfully honest and has delight blooming in Sinestro's chest. Considering, he ducks his head. "I built an entire Corps as your replacement and yet they cannot reach a fraction of what you were to me."
That stops Hal. Across his skin is a shiver like he's stepping on sacred ground.
Taking advantage, Sinestro presses forward, "You say my Corps is a liability. Had you been beside me, I'd never have needed them."
Distractedly, Hal shakes his head. He's still recovering from Sinestro's revelation, trying to decide if it's just another lie to keep him off balance. While he wants it to be true, he can't want it. None of it is right.
Without meeting Sinestro's eye, reserved, Hal mutters, "This is more serious than two rival sport teams."
"Is it truly?" Almost too close, Sinestro's stepping into Hal's space. "Why are the Guardians better than I? They have their own biases, their own failings. Frequently, you beg me to stop them."
There's inconvenient fact in Sinestro's words. Hal does tend to rely on Sinestro for too much. "Until you mess it up." Pained, Hal pulls his head away. "You always do. Trying to make it so everyone worships you."
"They should worship me," Sinestro declares, decisive and proving Hal's point.
Sighing, Hal turns his back. One hand drops to his hip while the other rubs at his forehead. It's hopeless trying to get through to Sinestro. What frustrates Hal most is that Sinestro can be so much better. He's seen Sinestro do incredible things. The problem is Sinestro just gets lost in his own arrogance.
Left to pine after Hal, Sinestro's eyes narrow. "Will you ignore the origins of this latest mess? Your masters have brought all of it about while I did nothing but help you."
"What are you talking about?" Drawn in again, Hal is puzzled. "Wasn't this just some random event?"
It vindicates Sinestro who laughs at Hal's expense. "Did Stewart not see fit to enlighten you? As you may imagine, I have already taken great delight in detailing all the Guardians' faults to him. I will not repeat myself."
"Why were you talking to John?" Hal demands at once. "Stay away from him!"
Blood thrums through Sinestro's veins as Hal is in his face. Everything about Hal tends to be an exhilaration and his jealousy is no different.
Smugly amused, Sinestro looks down on Hal. "Fear not, Jordan," he's teasing. "You will always be my favourite."
Heat warms Hal's cheeks and he's flustered. "That's not what I - Let's pretend I believe the Guardians have messed up here." Hal needs to focus. "Why would you bother helping fix their mistakes? You'd love to watch them fail."
Disappointingly, Hal is committed to his work rather than to shouting at Sinestro. The Guardians do need to be held accountable but Sinestro prefers they drop dead before interfering in the time he has with Hal.
Waving an airy hand, Sinestro dismisses, "I do care for the collateral of their actions. And..." He hesitates, flicking a brief glance to Hal. "And I care for you."
With just that, Hal's thoroughly taken. The breath has evaporated from his lungs, his chest is tight, and he can't think about anything that isn't Sinestro. It's a disaster.
That hitch of breath is caught by Sinestro who's watching with sharp gold eyes. Nothing can quite compare to even the smallest hint of Hal's true affections. Each moment of Sinestro's own power, multiple planets under his rule and enemies begging for his mercy, pales in comparison.
Sinestro wants more of it. Even more so, he wants Hal to surrender it willingly, discarding all that's proper. Surrounded by such atrocious scenery, a change for Hal can only be good.
"Stewart..." Sinestro muses. "He does not trust you." Anyone who is not Sinestro is unworthy. "What else has he hidden?"
As much as Hal doesn't want to, he can't help but think back, questioning everything. It's in his nature to be argumentative but now it's possible there's other reasons for him clashing with John in the past.
Observing Hal always, Sinestro chooses that moment to propose carefully, "Were you in my Corps, I would trust you."
"You'd have complete control over an advanced surveillance device on my finger," Hal reminds, not quite ready to give into the temptation of utterly losing reason.
Green light glitters as Sinestro snatches up Hal's ring hand. "Are your masters not watching us now? Hal..." With a grip of iron, Sinestro places that hand against his sternum. "I worry endlessly over you."
Deceptively delicate bone structure beneath Hal's palm rises and falls with each of Sinestro's breaths. To be invited to have a hand over such a vulnerable point makes it impossible for Hal to think of Sinestro as anything other than an ally.
It's a sweet poison, coaxing Hal too well. Aware of every cell in his body because of Sinestro's proximity, Hal knows he's being captivated.
With difficulty, Hal tears himself away. "You're trying to manipulate me," he decides. "It's not going to work."
Pristine white teeth capable of ripping out throats bare at Hal. "Nothing I have said is untrue."
Somehow, Sinestro has Hal hesitating again and feeling regretful that he's rejected Sinestro's passion after asking for it. Lowering his gaze, Hal surrenders the words, "I worry about you too."
Infinitely satisfied is Sinestro but also unexpected is his powerful urge to calm Hal's worry. He and Hal don't have to be kept apart.
"End this." In Sinestro's throat, the low tone has dropped to a purr. "Join me. We abhor our enmity. Allow us to never battle again."
So deeply does Hal tumble into the wanting. The promise of peace between them and their friendship revitalised has lured him in. It's got nothing to do with any interest in actually joining Sinestro's Corps. Rather, Hal's desire is directed purely at Sinestro and there's more than one way to attain him.
"You could join me," Hal returns, and he smiles. "If they try to throw you out, Sin, I'll just threaten to quit. A certain someone showed me it's good strategy."
The reminder of their past catches Sinestro's attention, distracting him from the disappointment of Hal's deflection. "You were indeed taught by a rather wise Lantern."
Unable to resist, Hal immediately jibes, "I'll be sure to let Kilowog know you think he's wise."
Vicious scorn claws into existence throughout Sinestro's body, taking him by surprise with the intensity of it. Both terrible and wonderful, no one else is quite capable of nearing the same impact Hal has on him.
"I doubt Kilowog even understands the concept of wisdom," Sinestro isn't fighting his urge to prove he is a thousand times better than Kilowog. "Nor do I recall him ever doing as much for you as I."
It's difficult to argue and Hal is subdued. "Kilowog's a little more modest than you are," he comes up with. "And he's already on my side. So how about it?" Hal strides forward and he's in Sinestro's space. "You can end this for us too."
The allure of Hal is the casual invasion of his hummed tones into Sinestro's mind. That effortless friendliness is disproportionate to the strength ensnaring Sinestro. Likely, Hal has no idea how unfortunately charming he is or he'll never stop until Sinestro falls at his feet. Forgoing all power, Sinestro wants Hal's protection as his only embrace.
Two can play Hal's game and Sinestro reflects back, "I asked first."
"You were with me first," Hal's follow up is quick, undeterred, and his white gloved fingers glide over the blazing emblem on Sinestro's chest like just his will can erase it. "That was good, wasn't it?" The other hand cups Sinestro's shoulder to pull him down and close.
Controlled by Hal, Sinestro's at the mercy of power he once refined. All of this is his own creation when he accepted Hal into his life. To have it turned on him is cruelly beautiful in a way that makes the concepts synonymous.
"It was good for me," Hal confesses. "Best time in my life. I don't know if you know that. We could've done it forever."
Remembering why his time as a Green Lantern ended makes Sinestro recoil like he's been struck, adoration corrupting into contempt. Whenever Sinestro forgets, losing sight of the moment forcefully embedded into his mind, he's hurt again. Forever, Hal will reinflict the trauma on him.
"Traitor," Sinestro snarls. Like his throat is parched and only retribution can soothe it, he needs Hal to suffer.
English can't quite capture the deep sense of betrayal and wrongness in Sinestro's meaning but every bit of it is spat at Hal from across the new distance that keeps Sinestro out of reach. Only knowing that Sinestro's view of the situation is a little self absorbed diminishes the impact.
In the following quiet, Sinestro is given a reprieve that he uses to grasp for stability, surfacing past his drowning emotion.
"You betrayed me too," Hal points out finally, tone measured. "Everything the Corps stood for. You threw it away like it never meant anything to you."
There's extra hurt emphasised in that final part. Because of Sinestro's betrayal, everything they ever did together became a lie. Sinestro was gone and Hal was left feeling like an accomplice to the whole messed up power trip, someone Sinestro only used and lied to and never cared about at all.
Naturally, Sinestro reads the worst into Hal's meaning and laughs. "Be honest, Jordan," he needles, smirking. "That I was gone upsets you most. The morality debate matters very little to you."
"No, it matters," Hal retorts. "It's not one or the other, you know. And I still care that you got hurt. I wish it hadn't happened."
Rather than gentling Sinestro, the confession only makes him more furious. "Why? Because of the trouble it's caused you? Am I such an inconvenience?"
When Hal moves closer, he's like a raptor stalking down prey. Both loathing and yearning to accept the presence, Sinestro holds still for the hand that strokes his shoulder.
"I think you were always going to cause me trouble," Hal says but it's low and fond as he looks up at Sinestro. Then he averts his gaze. "You needed better than me."
Tightness is in Sinestro's throat, misery rising from his chest. "I never wanted better," he tells Hal. "I wanted you."
It devastates Hal enough that he has to close his eyes, dulled green light coating his eyelids.
With the wisdom of hindsight, Hal knows everything he failed to do in trying to help Sinestro, a list of mechanical faults. That Sinestro doesn't care for the logic is more shattering than cutting Hal down with a dissection of every perceived mistake. Failing Sinestro feels like the worst thing Hal has ever done.
What Hal clings to is the fact Sinestro caused a lot of this by himself. He's the one who drove Hal away. Any reasonable person can expect their partner to not be terrifying planets into submission behind their back, and Hal can be excused if he responded with a little bit of vindictiveness.
Melancholy echoes throughout Hal's posture and the draw towards him is a conflicted sensation for Sinestro, ripping in with jagged edges as he's torn between wariness and wanting. Whatever Hal does to him, Sinestro can't break away and he's not even certain if he truly hates it.
Out of his conscious control, Sinestro's fingers snatch into Hal's hair. Equal are the desires to push Hal back and to pull him in. Sharp nails carve through Hal's scalp but Hal is shoving up into the punishing grip with a murmur of a sigh and seeking against Sinestro's neck for more of the contact.
There's no fighting it, no trying to stop. Captivated entirely, Sinestro's outside his own mind, watching his thoughts tangle around Hal. All of it's warranted, earned, and Sinestro will do nothing other than surrender to the inundation. His other hand traces down the fragile power of Hal's spine. If anyone tries to take Hal from him now, he'll kill them.
For Hal, in Sinestro's arms, everything is calm and perfect. As he clings to the life support Sinestro's giving him, it all settles into place like utopia. There's never been a time when Hal is more certain of where he's meant to be. It's like flight.
"Hal..." It's a breath on Hal's temple and the sweetest sound he's ever heard. "Be my best lieutenant. You will never be torn from my side. All will burn to keep you with me."
Guilty pleasure fills Hal's chest. The worst part is wanting that violent intensity, the promise that he won't be alone regardless of anything and everything. No one else gives it to him and for good reason. It's not right.
Because Hal already knows the answer, there's no moment in which he really considers the offer. He just doesn't want to break away, hopelessness overwhelming him until he has to grit his teeth against it. Most unfair is the comfort Sinestro's giving him, even with every unsure thought. The bliss makes it torture to deny it.
As Hal's trying to step back, he doesn't want to, clinging like he's caught by some gravitational force. He can't let Sinestro go and the whirlwind of emotion inside of him is destroying his grip on reality until he has nothing but the edge of succumbing fully.
With difficulty, using every scrap of will he has, Hal grasps Sinestro's shoulders and pushes. It's jettisoning vital parts of his body into the ocean.
Separate from Sinestro finally, Hal rubs his face in his hands and tries to pull himself together. He can't just run away with Sinestro.
That thought has Hal abducted, and it keeps happening. Welcomed into Sinestro's space is a world of contentment. Under Sinestro's wing is the best Hal's ever felt. To have it again will be a new height that shows how parched he is now, and refusing it crushes him.
Left behind, Sinestro is at a loss. Misery weighs down Hal's shoulders and yet he's rejecting his only abatement for reasons that remain unimportant. Sinestro has to soothe it.
Yellow light forms in Sinestro's hand just as he seizes Hal from behind, and he brings that knife against the vulnerable skin of Hal's throat.
"If you refuse me, I'll kill you," Sinestro promises the threat into Hal's ear like it's a sweet nothing.
Tremors wrack across Hal's body but he's not afraid of Sinestro. It's what he feels about his burning need to give into his limitless devotion to Sinestro that, he imagines, is probably the closest he'll ever get to true terror. It's no wonder Sinestro's so messed up if he feels worse than this for everything.
The razor edge of Sinestro's fear is threatening to cut Hal open but he just tilts his head back for it. "Do it then," Hal challenges. None of his options are looking appealing.
Muscles tighten in Sinestro's wrist. Ending Hal's life is difficult to contemplate and that's disappointing. Even a small cut, bathing in the blood, won't be worth it. What he wants is all of Hal and more forever.
Relinquishing that threat, Sinestro tosses the knife aside. Then he wraps his hand around the front of Hal's throat. There's a gasp of breath until Sinestro tightens his grip and buries into Hal's neck where the skin is of a gentle warmth like star radiation.
"Surrender." Sinestro scrapes his teeth down Hal's neck. "You need only speak one word." Lightly, he nips at the skin. "Say it."
Using the teeth further back in his mouth, Sinestro clamps down on Hal's flesh. It draws a hiss from his friend. When that trails into a chuckle, Sinestro bites Hal again, sinking in sharper teeth just enough to threaten breaking the skin. This time, Hal yelps.
Fingers stroke up and down Hal's throat so when Hal speaks, it's a pleasant thrum against Sinestro's palm. "Is this how you'd usually recruit for your creepy fan club?"
"None are you," Sinestro pledges, crowding against Hal to give no chance of escape. "Shall I detail how not one of your friends understand? Each of your talents are wasted. It will certainly kill you. Only I may be your saviour. You must know it already. Don't you?"
All Hal can feel is Sinestro. Rather than denying it and getting out of their doomed situation, he presses up hard against Sinestro's hand, the only anchor for his instability.
When Sinestro welcomes him so expertly, Hal's convinced he can always have it. Insatiable is his yearning to kneel for Sinestro, drop to the ground and offer all control. With his life in Sinestro's hands, Hal can stop thinking. Into relief, he can sink where Sinestro has every answer.
Mostly so he stays standing, Hal grasps for the hand that still has him by the throat. Perfect black nails stand out against his white gloves. Nuzzling for sensation, Hal turns his nose into Sinestro's wrist and up the protective guard on Sinestro's forearm. Given the chance, he'll shove Sinestro down and feel all of him.
For now, Hal just latches onto Sinestro's shoulders. "Come back with me," he requests. "If you're worried, I'll protect you. I won't betray you again."
Unable to let himself believe it, Sinestro wrenches his head away. "I will never trust you." It's a choked growl. "Whenever you suggest it, I ache to rip out your throat."
"But you haven't," Hal reminds. He's moving in on Sinestro. "Admit it. You miss me. You want this too." Losing his restraint, Hal's bordering on desperate as he grabs for any purchase. "There's nothing we can't do together."
Every lie Hal speaks is pretty enough to spellbind Sinestro, sending him into a world where Hal's willpower desires nothing but him. No well reasoned arguments are needed to awaken that longing when Hal is the lure. It hooks deeper into Sinestro than anything else, can never be doubted.
Lost in the fantasy, Sinestro's pulled into Hal. "Have you been thinking on it?"
When it comes, the response is swift and hard. "Every damn night."
Excitement flutters in Sinestro's chest and it's the strongest intoxication. Set alight is his craving for Hal to just take him away and destroy all his will in the process. Not only is Sinestro forced to search for how to deny Hal but he also needs to fight with himself.
No response is forthcoming from Sinestro, and Hal is aggrieved. "Won't you think about it? Or do you just hate me?"
There's an unmoving statue of a person before Hal and he needs to rip it out or shatter it to pieces. Though it's Hal's fault for battering against this brick wall, he still pushes Sinestro from him. The loss of contact is worse than he expected and he wants it back right away, can't keep his hands to himself.
Both of Hal's arms wrap around Sinestro's head, elbows cradling him, and Hal's nose slots perfectly alongside Sinestro's. There, Hal closes his eyes and absorbs the hot desert Earth scent that's all from himself.
Before Sinestro can do anything, Hal's making a gratified sound and rubbing his cheek against Sinestro's. Then he does the other side and underneath Sinestro's jaw and he's absolutely wild trying to leave some kind of impact.
Sinestro invites all of it onto him. Soaking in the marking, he's breathless, and he just wants to surrender to it. If it means he'll never have to let Hal go back to that dull life without him, he'll give anything, do anything, but there's nothing. Hal remains unattainable.
Despite the futility, Sinestro tries, "It is not my status as a Green Lantern you desire, Jordan. You want me. Join m-"
A hand slaps over Sinestro's mouth, silencing him. "Shut the hell up," is Hal's growl that's low and demanding with just a hint of teasing to offset that order.
There's no getting away from Hal, or his touch, or his presence, even if Sinestro wanted to. Green light, the light of Hal's will, is on Hal's fingertips, on Sinestro's lips, and Sinestro takes those fingers into his mouth. The taste is thick and warm.
Delicate and precise is the sensation of Sinestro's tongue as he licks up Hal's fingers. Just watching Sinestro appeases Hal. To imagine Sinestro doing it to another Lantern, whether enemy or ally, is difficult. Then again, Hal can't be sure. It's possible he's just the latest in a string of literal conquests.
Incensed possessiveness beseeches Hal to bind Sinestro down, wrap his arms around and squeeze. He can be the only Lantern Sinestro ever needs. Instead, Hal just withdraws his fingers and sucks them clean while Sinestro watches. None of it can distract Hal from what he wants, not when Sinestro is standing right in front of him.
"You joining me is the only way it can happen," Hal tells Sinestro. "If I join you, I'll be abandoning everyone I care about. I can't lose them."
A slight scowl creases Sinestro's brow. "I am the only friend you need," he declares but he moves on quickly enough and offers, "We abduct them. Force them to see reason."
It's so unrealistic that laughter bubbles up in Hal. "You get that I'll never let that happen, don't you? But you can't help it. You'd do something like that eventually and there won't be any oversight to stop you."
"Give me your oversight." The insistence from Sinestro is almost petulant as he traces a nail down Hal's chin. "I will take your opinion into consideration with every decision."
"You'd ignore me," Hal retorts. "I know how this plays out. The Justice League, we were in this other dimension... You ruined who I was there."
"How can I be blamed for the actions of another?" Sinestro is indignant. "He failed you. I will not."
Refusing to argue, Hal moves his head away, but Sinestro smothers back against him. The line of Hal's jaw is strong beneath Sinestro's fingers and he doesn't want it gone. If Sinestro only has to lie and murder to keep it, of course he will. The problem is no lie and no murder will get him Hal in the way he wants.
Sinestro's eyes close. "It will wreck me to be under the Guardians once more. Hosting Parallax was less stressful."
With personal experience in both areas, Hal knows it's quite the statement. So he can't argue, only insist, "Just try. I can help you, Thaal." He hesitates. "If you even want it. But you don't have to care. I'll still -"
One of Sinestro's hands envelops the side of Hal's head and Sinestro is curling over the Green Lantern he cares so much for. "I'd burn for your happiness."
Tight all through Sinestro's torso is the perfection he's lost to like he can't breathe unless it's for Hal. So irreversibly, he's craving the wreckage. Already ruined, he can just barely avoid grabbing Hal and begging him for destruction.
A thumb slips between Hal's lips and rubs against his upper gum. Overcome, Hal opens his mouth and mumbles against it, "Wouldn't you rather have control? World domination?"
Every part of Sinestro is presently narrowed in on Hal, admiring. "I'll have all of it."
"Giving Larfleeze a challenge." When Hal grabs back, Sinestro moves into him. It's a shuddering, all breath and wet. "Ophidian."
The accusation is swallowed by Sinestro and his skin is on fire. Everywhere is Hal, like a reverence. To be in Hal's thoughts, even as an antagonist, is better than apathy. Without it, Sinestro is nothing. He's weak and small like the Guardians were when he slaughtered most of them in cold blood.
Pressing the words into Hal's skin, Sinestro promises, "I'd offer all of it to you."
A soft breath brushes Sinestro's cheek as Hal laughs in his face. "Liar. You only want me in your Corps like some kind of collectible trophy to gloat over." The bitterness has no passion, only defeat. "You'll never trust me."
Granted, Hal will be the finest prize but Sinestro is wise enough not to say it. Nor does he say that he does have one level of trust in Hal, to make the right decisions and deny him so effortlessly even while he wants Hal to embrace him instead. He's starving for Hal's bad choices.
Nails rake down the side of Hal's face, leaving it stinging. "I'll write your name in the planets I destroy," Sinestro vows. "Every being will know it."
"No." The sound is strained while Hal is still latching onto Sinestro. "I don't want you to."
That constant denial wounds Sinestro. All Hal wants from him is the impossible, it seems. Sorely tempting is ripping Hal into tiny pieces over it but Sinestro has more self control than to perform such an emotional act. Instead, he'll cling to Hal and never let go.
The slim quiet figure is resting against Hal, face averted. For Hal to offer support is natural. It used to be he was the only thing Sinestro could rely upon, or so Hal thought. All his confidence about knowing Sinestro was shattered a long time ago and he's wary of ever being ignorant like that again.
"Do you regret it at all?" Hal's curious, tracing over the shape of Sinestro's ear. "You can't be happy with how it turned out. I just -"
When Hal falters, Sinestro knows he's caused this hurt, has broken down the Green Lantern recruit who needed him, respected him, and cared for him deeply. That's difficult to tolerate but Hal is refusing to let Sinestro fix it. This pain is continuing because Hal won't join Sinestro. It's unfair.
With a finger on Hal's lips, Sinestro presses their foreheads together. Carefully, he says, "I regret our meeting." There's a sense of relief that comes with the honesty.
As though he's been burned, Hal yanks back. Furiously hurt, he stares at Sinestro. "Don't say that to me. Not after everything you've put me through." It feels like a whole new betrayal, staking Hal through the heart. "You don't get to wish it away."
Faced with Hal's distress, Sinestro is patient. "Had we never met, you would not have suffered."
In an instant, they're nose to nose, and Hal is fierce. "Because I'd be dead without you. Is that what you want?"
Though Sinestro hesitates, he does concede in the end with a slight shake of his head. That brings him back against Hal with just one graze of skin having Sinestro sighing. Each touch is a tenfold escalation, seizing him in a quicksand he's desperate to suffocate in.
One firm hand grips Sinestro around his ribs, holding him fast so Hal can lean in against him. "For just a moment," Hal asserts, "I'd take all this a thousand times over." His breath is very warm on Sinestro's jaw. "Do I even get close to you coming with me?"
It's unbelievable for Hal to not realise what solely his presence is doing to Sinestro. "Hal Jordan." The name is caressed like a prayer. "You are always close."
Angst pangs through Hal and he worries his fingers through his hair. "What do I have to do?" He's tired of the mixed messages, like trying to follow a manual that's back to front and upside down. "There has to be something. Do you want me to beg? Is that it?" Onto one knee, Hal drops. "Please."
If getting on the ground is what it takes to change things, Hal will do it for Sinestro every time. That devotion is what makes it feel very natural.
The green light usually glowing around Hal has vanished but he's no less dangerous for it. A demon has spawned in Sinestro's head, whispering that the brutal demolition of everything he is for Hal's sake won't be so awful. There's a number of schemes he has, contingencies to keep Hal with him, and he can follow through on any of them.
Sucking in an anguished breath, Sinestro forces himself back. "Damn the Predator to the core of your blasted planet," he curses Hal.
A cold floor is beneath Hal's knees and there's a chill in the air. To be before Sinestro is warmth, but to have brought him down to this isn't satisfying at all.
Flickering over Sinestro is yellow light as he retreats from Hal. His fingers clutch to his ring like it's a talisman to ward off seductive Green Lanterns, or it's possible he's thinking of discarding it all. Underneath the trappings of an intergalactic war leader, Sinestro is just an exiled Korugarian with a whole load of issues who's been a friend to Hal through so much.
There's that frantic longing eternally as a part of Hal, tying up his every aspect in service to more of Sinestro. No one gets it like Sinestro does. With him, Hal feels safest, and he doesn't care that it's not supposed to be, that he's expected to grow up and move on. Everyone tells him it's not worth it. They're wrong.
The friendship Hal feels for Sinestro blazes brighter than anything else. Regardless of all, indomitable like the beat of his heart, Hal will keep choosing to fight for it and make Sinestro his first priority. He'll give everything he has now and in the future as well, for as long as Sinestro will have him and more.
Green light reflows over Hal's body as he stands. "Be my friend, Sin," he implores. "Know I'm yours."
"Of course," Sinestro says, like it's automatic and he doesn't even have to think about it before granting everything Hal is asking for.
It seizes in Hal's chest and draws a startled laugh from him. "It's that easy?"
With that ever so fragile hope in Hal's expression, the truth of the matter resonates through Sinestro. All he wants is to shower Hal in bliss, have Hal never doubt again and just keep looking to Sinestro for everything.
For Hal to be so incredulous is insulting. Universes more than to anyone else, Sinestro is hopelessly devoted. Every bit of that power and might and charm of Hal's can enslave the omniverse, just like he's stolen Sinestro's ability to be satisfied by anyone else. Of all, Hal is the only creature made perfect.
It's with worship that Sinestro catches Hal's hand and strokes the fingers. "Never doubt my consideration for you, Hal."
The way Hal has been sent into complete disarray by those uncomplicated words feels very unreal, but Hal's warm again too. In his chest, his heart is beating wildly fast. As Sinestro drops Hal's hand, it's an obsession, because Hal can't stop watching him. "When can I see you again?" The lovesick teenager impression Hal has of himself is very unappealing.
"Whenever you choose," Sinestro presents the answer for Hal. "I've been told I'm in constant need of discipline."
To process that interesting statement, Hal takes a moment. Likely, Sinestro is referring to Hal's habit of chasing him around to arrest him for criminal activity. It can't be intentional Sinestro's made it sound like he needs to be shoved down and told to beg for forgiveness.
After a quick cough to clear his throat, Hal says, "I know I've never phrased it like that."
Gold eyes consider Hal and Sinestro's smirking. "A pity," is his comment, unbalancing Hal. "My home is always open to you."
"Do you have an actual house?" Hal's immediately distracted. Up until now, he hasn't realised his impression of where Sinestro lives is just a giant throne with Yellow Lantern servants waiting on his every whim.
It's demanding but also coy as Sinestro pushes forward. "Join me there and I can show you."
They're headed back to dangerous territory, getting a grimace from Hal. "Not a good idea," he turns Sinestro down. "That's open season on you trying to recruit me. It's how you got Soranik."
Acknowledging Hal's concerns, Sinestro inclines his head but he has to have the last word, "You will regret this."
"Maybe you're right," Hal muses. "I'll think back on it and realise everything I said was terribly uncool. How's Sinestro going to like me now? I'm asking the ceiling. Do you know how many crises I had over you?"
A soft sensation smoulders in Sinestro and he blinks. "You flatter me," he's flirtatious, playing with Hal to cover the sincerity. More familiar are those who beg for his power and mercy, not for him to like them.
Huffing, Hal turns his gaze to the sky but really he's hiding the smile twitching at his lips. Contentment eases through his body because bantering with Sinestro is too much fun. The real world has slipped away, a wonderful relief, and Hal wants nothing else forever.
High on the feeling, Hal drinks in Sinestro. "Come see me some time," he urges. "No Earth. Just roaming the stars. It'll be fun."
That total lack of tension in Hal has inspired Sinestro into relaxation too and with it comes his ability to admit, "Our time together was... not unwelcome."
Ridiculously, that's the entire world to Hal, and he grabs for it. "Let's do that. You know we could both leave now, together. Forget about them. Just you, and me, and our friendship. Nothing else has to matter."
The way Hal bewitches Sinestro is insidious. It's much more dangerous than the request for Sinestro to return as a Green Lantern. Though Sinestro can't, he's left coveting, thinking about how he has ensured he can leave his own Corps whenever for this very reason. That's selfish and weak, and the universe will crash into disorder with their absence.
"What of your Corps?" Sinestro parries. "My Corps? No." He holds up a hand to stop Hal from speaking on the matter further. "Be quiet."
Under Hal's scrutiny, that fierce devotion directed at him, Sinestro is vulnerable. All paths lead to agony, and especially the path Hal is just unwise enough to take them into where Sinestro will inevitably do something unforgivable and hurt his friend for the last time. They cannot forsake their duty for a tragedy.
Nothing else is said by Sinestro and Hal's mood dips. "Do you want me to beg for this too?"
That sadness in Hal tugs at Sinestro's chest like his arteries are being ripped out and he reaches to cup Hal's shoulder. "Let us focus on the present while I have you here." He pauses. "I manipulated Stewart so he would not trust you."
Startled, Hal laughs. "Should I have seen that coming? Let me guess: You're not telling me because of a sudden change of heart in your ethics, are you?"
The suggestion offends Sinestro. "Of course not. Stewart made his choice. I merely nudged him towards it. If you intend to confront him over the issues we discussed, he may become aware of that small detail... I will not let him turn you against me."
"Like you just tried to do to him?" Blatant is Sinestro's hypocrisy but Hal is used to it. "Never change, will you?"
As Sinestro's composing his answer, his arms are suddenly full of human. Hal has thrown himself at Sinestro. The grip is hard and warm, engulfing Sinestro like a thick blanket and destroying any sense of coherency he has.
Still as a statue, Sinestro's taking a moment to absorb it all. Hal nuzzles against him and says, "You can hug me back. If you want. I don't mind."
There's a feather light touch on Hal's back before Sinestro wraps an arm around him, bringing them closer together. Gratefully, Hal relaxes into it. That wondrous tranquility embraces him and he's very prepared to welcome a knife between the ribs so he can keep it. Nothing about his enchantment by Sinestro is ever going to lessen.
"Lord Sinestro." The interruption of Sinestro's Lanterns returning to the scene has Hal honestly wanting to commit murder.
Those steadying arms are still enclosed around Sinestro and he's not finished soaking it in, will never be finished. Burying his fingers in Hal's hair, he's requiring more. Scenting along Hal's neck, he's thinking of how to devour Hal into his chest and simply be with him. That's when Sinestro snatches himself away, abrupt like ripping off a bandage.
Presented to Hal is the curve of Sinestro's spine and Hal's missing it already. "That's it? No goodbye kiss?"
Like a spring snapping back into its natural state, Sinestro's flush on Hal once more. It's somehow even better than previously. Light fingertips caress the side of Hal's face and he's pulled in for the incredibly soft brush of lips on his cheek, like petals and butterflies and everything fluffy he usually hates. There's nothing even a little suffocating about it.
As Hal has to watch Sinestro walk away from him with those unworthy Yellow Lanterns trailing behind, the jealousy does wild things to his head. They're nothing yet they get to be where Hal can't, settled in at Sinestro's side. He's not sure how he's going to keep tolerating it.
Some of the Lanterns toss scowls to Hal and it takes him a moment to realise why. Vindictively satisfied, he smirks back. They'll never replace him. They won't ever get close.
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kuwdora · 7 months
Text
20 Questions for Fic Writers
Tagged by @deerna and @jawanaka !
How many works do you have on A03? 110 - but this would probably be +200 if I had been crossposting my fanvids there. I still remember when video embeds did not work on AO3 pages. But that was ages ago. And I’m terrible at crossposting. Especially when I have so many to crosspost at this point.
What's your total A03 word count? 280,783
What fandoms do you write for? In the past it was Stargate SG-1/Atlantis, Heroes and Sanctuary and a lovely romp with Being Human UK. Star Trek. These days I’m still on The Witcher, with the occasional fleeting non-witcher stuff I manage to finish.
What are your top five fics by kudos? I can see through you, The Witcher Netflix. My Geralt and Jaskier role reversal thing. More like a role inversion.
Surface Tension, The Witcher Netflix. soft very established relationship Geralt/Yen/Jaskier smut.
Papa’s Got a Brand New Suit, Star Trek: Deep Space 9. Julian/Garak PWP. From ye olde porn battle days. Learning Curve, The Witcher Netflix. Yen/Jaskier, post-season 2 soft feelings and sex with an emphasis on all of Yennefer's pain.
Heart Tap, The Witcher Netflix. Leshen Eskel(/Geralt). My first story about what it could be like for Eskel to live with his transformation into a monster. I'm actually surprised this is in my top 5 kudos considering how niche it is but man I love my tree boyfriend and have so many more thoughts about him that I haven't gotten out yet...
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! I try to respond to comments when I can. Sometimes it takes forever and sometimes I do forget to respond to comments but man I love rolling around in them.
What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? My angstiest endings are for fic that I haven’t finished or posted on AO3 yet for more of my witcher fixations. But for posted things?? Hmm. I do have an old Heroes fic called Code of Hammurabi that is Peter/Sylar time travel AU that’s particularly angsty and gave me the chance to rummage around in the way Peter would endure in a very very messy situation.
Oh, my Doctor Sleep ficlet is also pretty angsty. Danny reflecting on his time with Billy when Billy's ghost shows up. I'm smiling upside down is the name of that ficlet.
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Oh that’s probably my smutty fluffy thing for Being Human. PWP. Moon Mambo, Hal/Tom.
Do you get hate on fics? No, but I sense that’s only a matter of time before someone directs their hate at me.
Do you write smut? Yup.
Do you write crossovers? Yes, but not for a very long time. I have a “Ciri collects all the young girl protagonists from sci-fi/fantasy books for a group project” crossover idea but my focus is too scattered to get that going. I did start it with a Nona-meets-Ciri Locked Tomb/witcher crossover here: Call to Adventure.
Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I’m aware of. I think my stuff is far too niche and self-indulgent for that kind of thing but who knows. The internet is a smaller place these days but people seem to find new ways to steal. Alternatively: I did learn that someone submitted one of my Stargate SG-1 vids to a Creation Con fanvid contest that had prize money in it. That was very upsetting to learn well after the fact.
Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope.
Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, not co-written. But I do love rolling around with my beta and workshopping my fic into better shape and a lot of my stuff ends up way better as a result of my betas. And I also love doing the same with folks who ask me for beta. It’s a fun kind of collaboration.
What's your all-time favourite ship? Agh this one is so hard. Don’t make me pick just one. Aeryn/John from Farscape. Fraser/Ray(s) from due South. I don’t write a lot of book Yennefer/Geralt but they also are It for me.
What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Oh my god, definitely my TWN Leshkel canonical divergence AU thing. I have something like a whole season 2 (not a fix-it) outlined, with lots of stuff focusing on Ciri and Leshy Eskel, and Leshy Eskel with Triss. With more stuff about witcher-and-leshen biology and Wolf School disappearing, Kaer Morhen becoming a magical greenhouse where a mythical Swallow is rumored to visit every 6 years.
What are your writing strengths? Description, maybe characterizations. Theme and tone.
What are your writing weaknesses? Too much description, comma splices. Slow pacing.
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I think it’s fun to do but it can be a lot to read and I definitely will overthink the writing and both the reading. If it suits the characterization and context clues within the text, I think that’s cool. But I think it’s fine to go without con-lang or other languages in fic. It’s just a matter of texture and color that adds to the scene, you know?
First fandom you wrote for? Stargate SG-1.
Favourite fic you've ever written? Ever??? It’s so hard to pick just one. Hang on, I got several of those ‘rec 5 of your favorite fics’ asks in my inbox. Lemme see if I can pick 5 for that.
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ftl-faster-than-life · 8 months
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Hiya!
I must say I never looked into Eobarry because I am an absolute sucker for Halbarry. Mostly because I love when it can be fluffy and fun, all of that AND my heart can't handle angst anymore because real life's angsty enough. BUT I hear you and see the dynamic and I see how it could be so wrecked to have this man coming to the past to try and have a way in the life of a man he adores but who rejected him. Eobard's train of thoughts is basically : "I am gonna come to him by travelling to the past, wreck his life so much that I might have a part in Barry's said life and be with him in a way or another." Like. I see it so well, so thank you for this eye-opening experience.
I am soft so I probably won't let myself sail with that ship and HalBarry is my comfort OTP hahhaa but I UNDERSTAND (I mean, I didn't look that much into it so I might be off with my interpretation).
And since I love Hal and Bear (those blorbos) so much, I want them to be happy and healthy (which is kinda a weird thing to want for people that don't exist, but lemme hope for better things in real life by living precariously through characters I relate to so if they manage to get better I might get the hope for that as well. ♡) [oops]
Take care and lots of love to you. It's really fun to hang on your Tumblr ♡
I'm so sorry this took me so long to get around to answering, I'm afraid I just didn't have the focus to do it til now.
I love Halbarry too--you can probably tell by all the Halbarry I post. Their dynamic is incredible, the mutual trust and absolute love they have for each other really shines in every action. Including when they're roasting the hell out of each other. They're a great example of a platonic relationship that has all the earmarks of potential for a really cozy romance. And yes! Eobard wants so badly to be important in Barry's life that if he can't be the best thing to happen to him, he'll be the worst. I think half of the appeal of Eobarry, as things stand in canon, is the tragedy of it. The way it's doomed before it even starts. It's the worst thing that will ever happen to either of them, and it seems as if there's just no way to prevent it.
It's also just fascinating because it's so heavily rooted in time travel--the instigating event which happens at the end of their relationship from Barry's perspective, and at the beginning from Eobard's. Can Eobard be blamed for losing his mind when he sees that he's fated to die at the hands of his idol? No. Can Barry be blamed for killing Eobard in self defense and the defense of others? No. Eobarry's one of those ships where if it were to become canon in the sense of Barry giving in and being with Eobard, the way that Eobard wants (when he doesn't want to kill Barry or be Barry...) I'd riot. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, take care and I hope things get better for you!
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maofi · 1 year
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I'm new to DC and I've started watching the animated movies. In the ones that I have watched already there were a few thing that caught my attention and I thought, why not share with others? So here we go.
first off; Superman Doomsday (2007). Have you seen his long hair????? I bet its very soft and it is 100% due to his kryptonian DNA. Although i do wonder how he cut later in the movie. Is his hair not indestructable?
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Next I want to bring your attention to Batman: Gotham knight (2008). Anime style Batman looked great tbh. Like it felt like we got glimpses from different batmen from different universes.
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Also i very much liked all the different batsuits in the different artstyles, *chef's kiss*
I've also watched Green lantern: First flight (2009). And one of the first things I noticed and liked was the fact that Hal literally just went along with whatever was happening. Dude lands in the desert (in a machine that is just a simulator so it shouldn’t have been going anywhere in the first place) and sees a dying alien and just runs towards him without questioning the fact that there is a dying alien in front of him. Then the green lantern ring flies onto his finger, he gets sailor mooned into a green suit and still he’s never like “WTF IS HAPPENING HERE”. The whole movie I was just thinking like damn Hal, what happened to you in the past for you to be this chill about everything.
Another thing about the green lantern movie; kudos to hal for not commenting on the weird looks of the aliens. only thing he said was bug boy to someone and that was kind of accurate, he never said anything about the talking squirrel or any other thing for that matter so yea.
To end this post (for now) there were a few things about Wonder Woman (2009) that i liked, but to not make this post too long I’ll just focus on what Hippolyta said to Ares in the beginning, like she had no chill and I loved her for it.
And then after this burn she continues to mip the floor with him only being stopped by Zeus en Hera’s interference. Wonder Woman was filled with blessed moments tbh.
I might add to this post after watching the other movies, idk yet we’ll see.
This is the list/order I’m following btw.
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writingonesdreams · 2 years
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Hey Dreamy 🥰
Happy Blorbo Blorbsday! Good luck on all your exams coming up this month! I'll give you a soft one to help you keep it easy 😂❤️
In a modern AU what would your main 5 OCs favourite movies or games be?
@bloodlessheirbyjacques
Hey Fiery🥰❤ Thanks for the well-wishes! I got one next week and then one at the end of September so at least a breather in between.
That's a lovely question.😍
Leander - def the whole Daniel Craig James Bond series. Aside the last one, cause he wants the protag to always win.
Zephyr - Last Samurai. The whole atmosphere, the discipline, the training. I imagine he would be also fan of all the King Arhur and Merlin and Round table movies.
Kieran - Mad Max Fury Road. Something in a harsh setting with many fight scenes. Heist movies. Anti-heroes. Pirates of Caribbean would also be a fave.
Skye - You've got mail. Cheesy romance with intellectual focus/debates. Old movies. And things like Avatar and Winnetou for the culture clash conflicts.
Hal - Star Wars. Star Trek. More into scifi but Lord of the Rings would be nice too. As crazy fantastical and non-real life as possible.
Bonus: cause I'm getting to know them too
Juno - Devil wears Prada. Musicals like West side story and Chicago. And she doesn't mind the occasional horror and suspense.
Cameron - Godfather. The Family. LA Confidential. Suspense, thriller, mafia movies.
Thanks for the question!💕✨
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musashi · 1 year
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i followed you from a random post of yours that got big, i think something about trying to help someone with a phone set up at target and it somehow being a very strange interaction i dont remember any details really? but that was a year or two ago and now im really just kind of attached to you even though we dont share any fandoms i just love to hear about your life and how passionate you are about the things you love! i love that caring and acts of service are your love language and how enthusiastically you kin and how you're both a take no bullshit person but also very soft! so i stick around even when i have no idea what youre talking about half the time. (although you have def made me considering getting into AA)
YES THE LEGEND OF HAL AND THE T MOBILE TRIALS. i still think about that day sometimes. six goddamn hours.
this is one of the sweetest and most 'joy of being known' ass paragraphs a stranger (that word feels incorrect but idk) has ever sent me. i focus so much on when i am misunderstood and frustrated on here but i am stopping right now to appreciate this moment where i feel incredibly understood. thank you for letting me have that. it was a long day at work.
the ace attorney trilogy is 50% off on both the nintendo eshop, xbox store, and steam right now! you can buy the whole trilogy for 15 dollars, thats 5 dollars per ace attorney game! thats hours upon hours of altered brain chemistry! PLAY ACE ATTORNEY!!!!! I LOVE U
[how did you find my blog and what made you want to follow?]
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thewrittennerd · 2 years
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 Chapter One
 Chaos.
It's a word that stays secure at the top of Hallie Mavis “Fireball” Kerner Seresin's daily vocabulary list. Most of it's description, in Hallie's mind, has to do with her twins.
As precious as Noah Jude and Marley Elizabeth Seresin are, it's the man they share half of their DNA with that makes Hallie's world be turned on its axis.
But to throw Jake “Hangman” Seresin into her work world is totally chaotic.
On this particular late spring morning, the dark blonde-haired Hallie is holding a clipboard against her hip. Hallie's hazel green eyes suddenly got that much wider when they fall onto the chicken claw handwriting version of Jake's surname. “Okay, guys. Joke's on you. Lieutenant Seresin isn't a patient here today. He's playing football on the beach.”
Norah, one of only a handful of middle-aged nurses, is a very sweet and nurturing (especially with Hallie and the twins) Caucasian woman. At first Hallie…after being raised by Norah…thought of sweet as any black woman who becomes the bonus grandma her kids needed and when Marley & Noah accidentally overheard their mother call Norah “Nana”, the nickname stuck. Not that Rhonda minded. “I'm afraid it's true, Doc Hallie. Some man with the same accent as you called for a police escort before telling me that he was bringing the injured person by Jeep.”
Bronco. “Okay,” Hallie replies, her voice soft. She's still in shock at the thought of having Jake…her ex-husband…the other half of her heart…the man who gave her three more spaces to fill her heart with an overflowing waterfall bursting kind of love for her babies…as a patient is too much for Hallie to handle. Luckily for Hallie, Norah is there to help through the unexpected impending wave of Hallie's hormones getting ready to make themselves known.
“Just let it all out, child. Nana Norah is here,” the older woman says in a soothing maternal tone, rubbing Hallie's back in gentle circles to help calm the young single mother down.
Just as Hallie is finally calmed down, her older psuedo-brother comes into the ER with a hobbling Jake beside him. Hallie's ex-husband takes one long look at her and then pinches Bradley's shoulder that blonde-haired and green-eyed Jake's arm is wrapped around. “Really, Rooster? We just had to come to this hospital out of all the others closer to the beach or base?”
“You two need to work stuff out. As great as it's been to have you crashing on my couch…” the older of the Bradshaw siblings, ignoring the glares he gets as he pats Jake's chest before leaving.
“How am I supposed to get back to base!? Rooster? Rooster. C'mon, buddy, don't make me switch our call sign names! Rooster, you owe me big time for this!” Jake continues yelling even as Hallie's ears pick up on the loud backfire of her brother's ages old Bronco truck. “M'sorry 'bout him, Hal. I don't know what's gotten into him bringing me here. I…I'll just call for a cab and get out of your hair.” Just as Jake is about to do that, a pain-filled grimace flashes onto his expression and he collapses against a cart with trays of food from the cafeteria.
“Giovanni Jakob! Rhonda, go get some more nurses and a gurney, stat!” Hallie asks her older friend in gentle demand. Her slender hands cradle either side of Jake's face, patting the flesh of his cheeks. “Jakob, stay awake for me, okay?” Hallie loses all sense of time, barely noticing anyone but her ex-husband or the hormonal echo of emotional steam once again pouring from her ears.
Norah comes back with a big enough team of doctors and nurse that Hallie can focus on Jake, the father of her twins and the baby inside of her. One of the doctors…the hospital administrator to be exact, a three-way tie between Andy, Carroll and Dick…kneels beside a worried Hallie. “We've got it from here, Miss Hallie.” Hallie…the stubborn woman Jake always calls her when they would argue…shakes her head firmly.
“It's the bottom of the third, the bases are loaded…” Hallie begins, slipping into her anxious state, the one where she starts spewing off wins of her hometown team, the Houston Astros as well as the San Diego Padres.
A sigh escapes Dr. Collin Arnold's lips as soon as he realizes the best female doctor from the southern part of the Midwest had no plans to move. He gets to his feet, gestures for Rhonda to follow and steps away from Hallie. “Can you try and detach her for a brief moment so we can at least get Lieutenant Seresin into a room?”
“Yes-sir, Dr. Arnold,” Rhonda says in the sweet, charming tone that's reserved for him.
Although Hallie wants to refuse the idea, she knows it's for Jake's health and safety. Letting him go the young female doctor gets unsteadily to her feet.
                                       J&H // F&H // J&H
It's just under a month's time before Hallie sees Jake again but, this time, it's on a personal level. She is hanging some laundry out to let it dry when her ears pick up on rustling grass blades at the side of the house.
“Venimus.” Jake speaks the Latin phrase softly; the word sliding off his tongue with a dramatic sensuality.
“With the bases loaded, it's Dylan Baker up at the plate,” Hallie murmurs, hands trembling as she attempts to pin another item from the laundry onto the wire clothing line. Another rustling reaches Hallie's ears and she turns in a slight circle to find a now shirtless Jake reaching for the tiny door handle.
“Vidimus,” Jake continues, dropping his loose grip on the door and his heather blue (gray blue) T-shirt as soon as he's inside the screened in porch.
“Baker gets into position. He swings and misses,” Hallie keeps up her sports talk…more specifically about the Houston Astros.
It's something Jake picked up on early in their relationship as something Hallie only did when she would become anxious or nervous. So…he'd come up with his own spoken word code to break down Hallie's walls.
But the closer he got to her now, the faster her heart pounds like a loud bongo drum inside her chest. “Baker takes another swing and this time the crowd goes wild as he knocks it right out of the park.”
“Amavimus,” Jake says after she's finished. As Hallie's now visibly hard, trembling hands lift to pin another piece of laundry into place on the thin wire, she is aware of how close he is.
Close enough for Hallie to find out that her heart isn't the only one pounding, ready to burst free.
Near enough to feel goose bumps rise along the flesh of her arms.
Breath circulates like an electric ceiling slash floor fan as his head and face lower to Hallie's bare shoulder. “You know that laundry day always got me all hot and bothered,” Jake murmurs before grunting in slight pain as she jabs her elbow into his gut. “And so does your gentle violence. Why are you so determined to stir up trouble by throwing random women at me when the only one I want is standing right here in front of me, wearing a tiny sports bra and skin-hugging leather work-out leggings?”
“Don't you know by now that I like to keep you on your toes, Hangman?” Hallie quips in response, preparing to move past him if he hadn't chosen just then to yank her toward him. “Because I enjoy testing your resolve!”
Jake's mouth comes crashing down onto Hallie's, swallowing the sharp gasp that's about to emerge from her throat.
Passion quickly ignites into a raging inferno. Coiling tension makes the room feel as if the walls are closing in on the couple. Carnal eroticism comes with every sweep of their tongues dueling for control though neither really claim victory.
Within a few moments Hallie is letting air back into her lungs as Jake presses kiss after kiss…each one soft and gentle, unlike his pilot persona…to the side of her face. “It's not fair how much you could even still want me,” Hallie mutters under her breath.
“Speak up, darlin'. I don't think everyone in the Bay Area heard you.” There's a gravelly edge to his southern Texas accent that also holds a distinctive sliver of demand in it.
For a response legs of a length that is nearly close to Jake's own tall stature slide up the side of his hips. Taking her hint the blonde-haired pilot grips the underside of Hallie's thighs, lifting her higher against the muscles of his six-pack. Hallie locks her ankles at the base of Jake's spine, digging the edge of her toes into the dark denim shorts which do very little to conceal Jake's arousal.
Hallie moans at the immediate contact of their bodies' lower halves meeting as if there had been no time lost. Jake lets out a matching sound of pleasure into the corded veins of Hallie's neck, latching onto the flesh with gentle nips from his teeth. Stumbling toward the door with the mesh screen, Jake jerks it open and carries her the short distance past the mud room until he's reached a door that's closed.
Reaching behind her at the same time as Jake, Hallie turns the door knob before Jake pushes the door open with his foot. Turning slightly Jake closes and locks the door then carries Hallie to the bed. Within minutes both of them have left a pile of clothes on the floor, neither of them caring as Jake begins to reclaim the passionate flame he knows has never died out with Hallie.
Kissing her forehead, eyelids, nose, cheeks, lips, ears. Hands gently caressing just past the spot where Jake is once again nipping at her flesh, leaving a mark behind. Slowly crawling down Hallie's slender form until his face is buried between her thighs.
Hallie writhes and makes incoherent, stuttering sounds but makes no sudden movements to jerk away from his furiously lapping tongue. Her hands comb through Jake's blonde hair, gripping as his five o'clock shadow rubs against Hallie's thighs. “Jakob…” Her voice is a hoarse plea and Jake squeezes the flesh just inches away from his face, silently urging her through the peak of her orgasm. She comes with a soft cry, the sound bouncing off only the walls of the bedroom before Jake is levering himself up by curled fists.
Standing to his full height Jake asks in a brusque tone, “From the front or from the back?” Hallie also stands to her full five feet and five inches, brushing the tip of her tongue along Jake's cum-covered chin.
“I want it any way you do, Bagman,” Hallie whispers seductively.
Jake fuses their mouths together instantly; the evidence of Hallie's quite intense orgasm getting rubbed all over the smooth, sensitive skin of her face's lower half. Although his original mission had been to go clean himself up, he rethinks his strategy and ends up taking a tumble onto the bed with Hallie getting control and leverage over him. She straddles his lap before reaching out for the top knob of the bedside nightstand.
Frowning Jake attempts to keep her from rolling the condom on him. “Hal? What's going on? First you were emotional a few weeks ago when Rooster brought me to the hospital and now you want me to wear a condom that is 50% foolproof?”
“Can we either get on with this or you leave and we pretend that this conversation never happened?” Hallie lets out an annoyed huff of air, ignoring the heat that is stirring once again between her thighs when Jake moves closer to tug her tense arms away from being crossed over her chest.
“Wild horses won't chase me away, Fireball, and neither will you,” her ex-husband says in a quiet tone, Jake's index finger smoothly going into a crooked position as he guides her chin around. “Now tell me what is going on with you so we can figure this out.”
“Fine. You're going to find out one way or the other.”
Hallie lets out another huff slash sigh. “I'm pregnant again, Jake.”
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beesxrated · 5 months
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A Day In
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Another Halsin fic.🪻
Masterlist
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Light pours through the trees waking you up. You groan and turn in the large arms around you, burring your face in his bare chest. He pulls you closer kissing the top of your head before he rolls and faces you as well. Halsin's lips meet yours in a long sleepy kiss before they continue to your cheek and your neck. His hands trace and caress every inch of your body as his lips and tongue caress the rest.
"We just woke up, Halsin." You mumble as his lips meet your stomach just above your waist.
You feel him chuckle against your skin, "You can tell me to stop if you want, love."
But you don't, you enjoy his touch and lips against your body as he slowly moves downward. His hands push you down onto your back and his mouth having almost reached what you desire most. Instead he raises himself up and kisses you again on the lips before pulling away and sitting up on the edge of the bed. You lay there frustrated.
"I have some things to get done, but after those I am all yours." He leans back and kisses you hard.
You sigh, voicing your frustrations, "How long will you be?"
"I do not know. I would say maybe an hour or two."
"I don't know if I can wait that long, Hals."
He smiles at you, "I will make it as fast as I can."
He gets up, dresses himself and leaves your space. You lay there in your frustration thinking of all of the ways to get him back for this. Playfully, you think of doing the same to him, but know you don't have the willpower to pull away from him like that. You doze off thinking about Halsin.
You awaken this time to shadow, eyes still closed you begin to wonder if you may have slept through the entire day. That fear is quickly squashed as lips meet yours, softly. You open your eyes and find Halsin starting to travel down your body again.
You surprise Halsin as you push him down onto his back, taking your time in kissing his body as he has done to you many times. He seems to enjoy it just as much as you do. His hands slide into your hair tugging as you nip at his hips. You look up for just a moment to see his eyes closed and seemingly enjoying every touch. You tease him, kissing and touching all around the throbbing bit of his pleasure.
He groans as you finally take it into your mouth. His hands grip the roots of your hair pushing further into you. His body starts to shake as you work on him. You notice how much he is enjoying this and regret not doing it sooner. He's always been a giver and never complained, and now you also like being a giver.
Haslin tries to get out your name, but shudders every time you change up what your doing even a small amount. Noticing this you release him and he immediately flips you around on him. His mouth on your pleasure and yours on his. You start to lose focus as he grips your hips keeping you in place, refusing to let you move as he finishes you off.
Once he's finished with you he pushes you back into the bed on your back. His hands massage you as he continues with his mouth for a minute longer before he shifts himself up onto his elbows. Halsin almost growls, something you'd never heard him do before, as he pushes himself into you. You realize you have become louder now than you ever had before, your throat starts to feel scratchy as you groan his name.
You have lost all sense of yourself as he forgets his previously soft and slow motions you were used to. He thrusts harder than you'd ever thought he could before. He seems almost feral as his teeth find your neck and he growls again. Your nails scrape up his back and into his hair gaining a deep, heavy moan from him. Halsin brings his head next to yours as he reaches ecstasy, letting out a low grumble. His trusts become slow and shallow as you feel him finish. As he pulls himself from you he lets out a huff, and falls next to you.
Your body shakes as it tries to regulate the emotion and pleasure coursing through your body. Halsin lays his head on your chest, breathing heavily. His hands trace shapes or words on your stomach as you brush fingers through his hair.
"What are you tracing?" You ask when your throat stops stinging.
Halsin hums a bit, "Nothing, just letters."
"Does it say anything?" You ask trying to focus on the letters he could possibly be writing on your body.
"I love you." He says, "And promises in a language forgotten."
"What are you promising?"
"You will learn in time. For now, I want to lay with you."
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flaminpumpkin · 3 years
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batlantern + 33 please? I love your writing :)
Thank you! T.T
I'm not completely happy with this one because I feel like I strayed from the prompt but I hope you'll like it!
Batlantern + The feel of fingertips trailing over a bare shoulder blade
Bruce was barely starting to wake up, still half buried under the several pillows he had hoarded during the night, when he felt something tickle his skin. He rolled his shoulder to get rid of the sensation and go back to sleep but something – someone, Hal – swatted him lightly. 
“Tt, babe! Don’t move!” he whispered-yelled. “I’m practicing.”
His hazy mind unhelpfully supplied that his lover had been spending too much time with Damian if he was picking up on his son’s verbal mannerisms. Bruce pushed the thought down with a grunt – it was way too early for thinking – and tried once more to disappear within his mountain of pillows to finish his night. 
Unfortunately for him, his mind couldn’t help but focus on the feeling of Hal’s fingers on the bare skin of his shoulder blade. On how, despite how feather light Hal’s touch was as he traced patterns, the pad of his fingers felt that much rougher on his naked skin. On how much cooler his fingertips were compared to the rest of his body. 
“It’s been like that ever since I’ve had extended missions in space,” he had explained once. “Courtesy of the void, I guess.”
Bruce didn’t mind, though. It was the only type of coolness that didn’t bother him. Probably because it was Hal.
Hal, who clicked his tongue again in frustration, mumbling “no, that’s not right” under his breath as he drummed his fingers on Bruce’s shoulder blade, his blunt nails managing to graze the older man’s skin and sending shivers down his spine. 
The Bat leaned back slightly, pushing his shoulder against Hal’s hand, hoping he would get what Bruce wanted him to do.
Which he did, he thought with a contented sigh as his lover ran a soothing thumb where his nails had lightly scratched him before resuming what he had been doing, this time abandoning whatever pattern he had been elaborating on Bruce’s skin and letting his fingertips wander aimlessly, gentle and slow. 
Along the curve of the bone, following the dips and waves of muscles. Gingerly, as it encountered a decade old scar, tenderly tracing its rigged edges even if it clearly wasn’t painful anymore. 
He kept his eyes closed the whole time, basking in the softness of Hal’s touch, reveling in it. 
“What were you practicing?” he grumbled at some point, voice rough with sleep and disuse. 
“Why, welcome back to the land of the living and good morning to you too, sweetheart.”
Hal’s voice was dripping with sarcasm but he didn’t stop his ministrations, not even faltering, to Bruce’s immense satisfaction. 
“Good morning. What were you practicing?”
He knew the pilot rolled his eyes at that despite the fact that his own were still closed.
“The Vixian alphabet. I want to prove to Guy I can tell him to fuck off without the help of the ring.”
“Charming.”
“You love it.”
Yes. He did. 
/
Here's the masterpost for any more request!
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abbysfrenchbraid · 3 years
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Kissed by a Wolf - Chapter 9
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in this chapter, the reader takes up combat training with Eivor and goes on a walk with Valka. I hope you all have some wonderful days with your loved ones!
CW for alcohol consumption, choking/assault imagery, nudity
Inspo pic by @classicnovaproductions​
Heather
The next few days were filled with training, tasks, and getting to know people. You got up early every morning and either joined Valka for a few hours of learning about healing and plants, sometimes at her hut, sometimes on walks through the forest, or you helped Sfáva in the kitchen, preparing food for the day or running errands for her. Around noon you ate with your old friends and in the afternoon you had taken up training with Eivor.
 Eivor’s wound was healing well, but she was not yet allowed to train heavily so she was all the happier to have you to instruct and guide.
 You had been working with a short sword, first wooden, then metal, for a few afternoons now and while it was still extremely hard to swing, you started seeing a smoothness in your movements. When you stepped into the training area with the straw dummies and wooden targets, the sun already hung low on the horizon and tiny snowflakes were fluttering from a singular cloud in the sky. The days were at their shortest now, Winter solstice was only two nights away.
 “There you are!” You turned to see Eivor, dressed in thick leather and furs, with two axes in her hands. She looked lovely, her lashes and hair embezzled by ice crystals and her breath moving through the air like clouds in strong wind. She gave you the smaller axe and fastened the other one to her belt.
 “I want to introduce you to another weapon today. I have a feeling you’ll be good with the axe.”
 You weighed it in your hand. It was wooden with a dark metal blade; thin red leather strips were wrapped and fastened around the bottom for better grip.
 “How do I wield it?” You tried a few slow strokes through the air. Eivor stepped behind you, closing her arms around you as she grabbed the axe and your hands with it, encasing your fingers in her soft, warm palms. Her mouth was right next to your ear and when she spoke, her breath tickled your skin.
 “You hold it with a firm grip, but make sure your wrists stay loose. Don't stiffen your arms, keep them moving and natural. Engage your core while you swing so the weight of the weapon doesn’t pull your body with it.” She lifted your hands with the axe to your top right and made a slow, perfectly diagonal cut to your bottom left.
 “Never swing straight down unless you’re absolutely positive you will hit something. Otherwise, you might hit yourself. You can swing upwards, too.” She guided your hands from left to right with a slightly upward motion. “Never straight, though.”
 She let go of you and stepped around you.
 “If you need more momentum, you can turn and swing the axe just at chest level, drag it up or down into your target.” She took your hands and twirled you around as if you were dancing, then she grabbed them tightly and executed a quick stroke through the air.
 “It is also important that you practice to stop this motion if you miss. You need strong arms and again, an engaged core. Try it.”
 She took a few steps back and you assumed your fighting stance and tried a few cuts through the air. Eivor was right, you needed strength to move the axe without flinging your whole body around and you also needed the strength to stop its flight. She was watching you with crossed arms, biting her lip as she closely observed your every move.  After a while, she nodded.
 “Try it on the straw figure. I’ll show you a combination.” She took the heavy axe from her belt and stood in front of the straw man. Suddenly she became a whirlwind, hacking at the figure three, four times and sending straw flying everywhere. Then she repeated the combination slowly, showing you a diagonal cut from the top left to bottom right, a horizontal blow from the right, a counter-clockwise turn into a full-force blow to the neck from the right, and at last a skull-splitting hit from the top down.
 You could only imagine the terror and fright it had to cause in her enemies to see her on the battlefield. She was glorious, turning to you with a glow in her eyes.
 “Now you.”
 You stood in front of the figure and repeated her example slowly at first, trying to remember the right order and direction. She nodded encouragingly and seemed satisfied with your precision. You dared to work faster and started continuously repeating the combination, over and over again, harder and faster every time until your lungs and shoulders were on fire and sweat was running down your temples. Eivor was cheering for you with her booming voice, yelling at you to go another round and to hit harder, to keep your core tight and your wrists loose.
 When you turned to her, out of breath and happy with your new weapon, she looked incredibly proud, smiling at you and stepping forward to grab your shoulders.
 “I knew this was the right weapon for you. We shall continue training with others, but I think it wise to focus on the axe from now on. You will be a force to be reckoned with.”
 You continued training until the sun was long gone, fighting the straw figures in the light of several torches, learning new moves and more difficult combinations from your      drengr,     and giving it your all until you had absolutely no strength left in a single fiber of your body. Eivor had made you run laps and fight every figure in the course, climb obstacles, and defend yourself from a figure behind you. In the end, all you could do was lay down on a snowed up ball of straw and try to regain control of your breath.
 Even though Eivor’s training was rigorous and she always managed to completely drain you, you felt the happiest after working with her every day, proud of your accomplishments and hard work and delighted at spending this much time with the warrior. She was also in high spirits every time, amazed at your quick learning progress and your willingness to push yourself until the very end.
 She let herself fall down on the straw next to you. It had stopped snowing and the last small cloud was slowly making way for a clear sky filled with thousands of stars.
 “You did well today.” Eivor’s voice was smooth as silk, and she sounded very content.
 “You’re a great teacher. It’s my pleasure,” you replied.”I never thought I’d be one for fighting.”
 You thought back to the kitchen on the day you had first met Eivor. William had hit you so hard you had been thrown back into the shelves and almost died later when the wound had festered. What would happen if he tried this now? Would you be able to defend yourself, even without a weapon?
 A meow tore you from your thoughts. Birna had come to pick you up for supper. Eivor greeted the cat with great enthusiasm and picked her up, cradling her in her arms.
 “Are you hungry, my little princess? We shall find you something to eat.”
 The cat answered with a satisfied grunt. You made your way to the longhouse together, all of your stomachs growling with hunger after the long day. Eivor gave you Birna and joined Sigurd at his table while you visited Sfáva at the hearth. She was delighted to see Birna and gave her some leftover ham right away.
 “You hungry?” She answered your surprised expression with her almost toothless smile. “I learn English now. Eda.”
 The old woman had only spoken Norwegian so far, making it hard for you to communicate. Apparently, Eda had started spending time with her and teaching her a few words of your language. Even though Sfáva spoke with a thick accent, it was wonderful to suddenly understand her. Following an impulse, you stretched out your arms in joy and she immediately hugged you tight, her smell of herbs and wool filling your nose. What a wonderful woman.
 “Well, may I have some supper?” you asked, stepping back and smiling at her. She grabbed a bowl right away, filling it with hot stew and sausages.
 “You always hungry now. You fight.” She gave you two additional slices of dark rye bread and you had to laugh. She was right. Ever since you had taken up training with Eivor, you ate twice as much as before. A voice next to you joined the conversation.
 “Well, the best fighters deserve the best food.” Norvid was standing next to you, grinning widely. “I saw you training the last couple of days. You are making great progress.”
 You lowered your head as a gesture of gratitude and thanked him for his kind words. It really did mean a lot to be noticed by the other warriors.
 “Did I hear that right? You chose the axe as your primary weapon?”
 You were surprised he knew.
 “Word travels fast here,” you answered him, “but yes, I think the axe calls to me more than other weapons. We’ll see how much I call to the axe in the days to come.”
 As you excused yourself and wished him a nice evening, you felt someone’s eyes on you and as you looked up, you could see Eivor watching your interaction with a sour expression on her face. When she caught your gaze, she turned to Sigurd and continued talking to him.
 You made your way to Lewin, Aelfric, and Hal and joined them for your meal. They had also heard about your endeavors on the training grounds and were happy for you. They all knew how much you had had to take back in Williamsburg and how good  it felt to become stronger and more confident now.
 “Has anyone seen Eda?” Hal asked casually while he wiped his bowl with a last piece of bread.
 No one had met her since she had left her cell and you were all desperate to know where she was and how she was doing. Maybe you could ask Randvi later. But you had been right in the assumption that she apparently just wanted some time to settle in and recover.
 You left the longhouse early instead of staying to drink and talk. You were sweaty and dirty and in desperate need of a bath. Valka had offered you to use hers whenever you wanted, you just needed to fill it yourself. You knew she was still in the longhouse and you were glad to have some time to yourself, quickly grabbing a fresh tunic and a large cloth from yours and Eivor’s hut.
 Valka’s cottage was only dimly lit by a few candles, but you did not light any more. You poured two buckets of water from outside into the kettle over the fire, then you went out a few more times and brought in as much snow as you could carry in your woolen shawl, letting it melt into the hot water. When it was warm enough, you filled it into the wooden bathtub and added some mint, sage, and lemon balm into it to help with your sore muscles.
 You left all your clothes on a pile next to Valka’s bed and stepped into the steaming water. Slowly sinking down into the bath, you took deep breaths to adjust to the heat and inhale the wonderful scents rising from the water. The candles were flickering and painting landscapes and figures on the wooden walls, the steam was dancing through the air and your muscles were finally starting to relax.
 After a while, you let yourself sink underwater, holding your breath as the water finally encased your head and your soft hair caressed your neck and shoulders. As you emerged, you began to rub off the dirt and sweat from your face and neck. A quiet noise at the entrance caught your attention.
 Eivor was standing in the door, frozen and bright red, her hand still on the handle. You could see her heart drop when your eyes met.
 “Forgive me Y/N, I didn’t mean to -” She rubbed over her eyes and stared at the floor. “Valka said I could take a bath in here, I didn’t know you…”
 Of course. You were absolutely sure Valka had known. The little witch. You had to stifle a laugh.
 “It’s alright, Eivor. I’m almost done. This bath is terribly dirty though, you should probably warm up some fresh water for yourself.”
 The blushing warrior just nodded and went out again to get water and snow. You noticed you had forgotten the soap on the sideboard. Should you get up and risk standing completely wet and naked in front of Eivor when she came back? It was not like she had not seen you naked before; she had washed and dressed you when you had been sick and feverish. But things were different now. Even though you still had not kissed since that unlucky drunk embrace, the tension between you often thickened the air and stopped your breath.
 You still did not feel completely ready to give yourself to Eivor, even though at times you wanted to. Randvi had been nice and respectful toward you since you had spoken to Eda and she had not moved in on Eivor anymore, but Eivor had also been mostly sober ever since.
 It had been an idea of yours to wait until the winter solstice when everyone would celebrate and drink to see how Eivor behaved and to decide then if you wanted to let her in. Even though the wait was torture sometimes, it would be worth it in the end and it would show her how serious you were about your conditions for this relationship to work.
 The door opened and Eivor came in, filling the cauldron with water and not daring to look in your direction.
 “Eivor, could you please hand me the pine soap over there? I need to tame this nest on my head.” The last few days had really taken a toll on your hair, the braids from the ceremony now ruffled and loose while dust, dirt, and sweat stuck to your hair.
 The blonde seemed to hesitate for a moment, then she took the dark piece of soap and slowly came over to you. When you saw how nervous she was, you suddenly felt a great calm and confidence come over you. Instead of covering or crouching in the water, you stayed splayed out and relaxed, visible for her under the surface. Red patches formed on Eivor’s neck as she handed you the soap, intent on only looking into your eyes.
 “Thank you.” You began lathering it in your hair and on your neck and chest. Eivor had moved to the fireplace, but she suddenly straightened up and half-turned.
 “I could… I can help you with your hair. If you want. I know how knotted it can get from training.”
 She took the wide-toothed comb Valka had used to detangle your hair the last time and took a step toward you. You smiled at her.
 “That would be nice. I’m still not used to maintaining it while wearing it down.”
 Eivor knelt down on the floor right behind your head and started running her fingers through your wet hair. Every time her fingertips touched your scalp, it felt like tiny flashes of lightning struck your skull. The warrior began to hum as she slowly combed out every strand of hair, starting from the bottom and working her way up. Finally, she grabbed a small pot, took some of the warm, clean water from the kettle, and poured it over your head to wash out any remains of the soap.
 As you began to get up, she held out a hand for you and helped you stand and step out of the tub. Like before, her eyes were fixed to yours as she handed you the large cloth to dry yourself off. You wrapped yourself in it, then you stepped to Valka’s great wooden table and took some of her Cedar oil, massaging it into your sore shoulders and arms. Meanwhile, Eivor dragged the heavy wooden tub to the door and emptied it into the bushes next to the hut before putting it back in its place and starting to fill it anew.
 You slipped the tunic over your head and let the sheet fall to the floor before wrapping all your dirty clothes in it. You decided to wash all your things right in the morning, Eivor’s clothes included. As you turned around to her, you were now the one caught off guard. She had already undressed and was stepping into the tub with her back to you.
 There were tattoos down her spine and on her shoulder blades, beautiful artwork in dark blue and black. She had loosened her braids and her long, wavy hair was falling down her back and over her shoulders. When she grabbed the sides of the tub and lowered herself into the hot bath, the muscles at her arms and back danced under her skin. My drengr.
 “I’ll see you at our hut?” you asked shyly. Eivor gave you a look that made your heart skip a beat.
 “Yes, my darling. I will join you there.”
 You had already fallen asleep from exhaustion when Eivor came back to your hut. She found you curled up with Birna. The quiet closing of the door woke you up and you kept your eyes closed, listening intently as Eivor threw her clothes on your pile in the corner, took off her shoes and slipped into bed with you.
 She smelled fresh, like soap and healing calendula and sage. Valka must have come back and given her infused oils, probably for her healing wound. Eivor scooted close to your back and you lifted your head slightly so she could slide her arm underneath your neck before hugging you tightly to her chest.
 “You smell nice,” you mumbled and pushed your hips back against her almost unnoticeably. You could tell she noticed very well though, her breath stopping for a moment before she replied.
 “You look beautiful when you sleep.” She pressed a light kiss to the soft patch of skin behind your ear and hugged you tight. Birna was purring quietly. Her family was all here.
 -
 After training your axe fighting for the entire next day, ignoring your sore muscles and pushing yourself even harder, you were picked up by Valka at the training grounds for a sunset walk. She had brought bread and dried fruit, as well as two big jugs of steaming hot mead.
 You thanked Eivor for another productive day and for her endless patience and confidence in you, then you dried off your face with a small cloth and slipped into your fur coat, gratefully taking a sip of mead.
 As you made your way on a path along the shoreline, Birna joined you for your walk. Even though she still did not like the snow, she had grown so fond of you that she rarely let you out of her sight anymore. Valka showed you where to still look for plants and how to dig for roots while you told her about the things you had learned today. She was happy with your progress, content that you were fulfilling her prophecy so closely.
 On a small meadow where thick fir trees spared some of the ground from the snow, you actually found small white flowers. Valka explained that it was winter honeysuckle, a beautiful little plant that was most beloved for its fragrance. She rubbed a few petals between her fingers and held them up to your nose. It smelled delightful. She would show you how to distill the essence of honeysuckle tomorrow.
 A while later, while the sun was already setting and drenching the world in beautiful orange-golden light, you found little red buds sticking out of the snow. It was heather, a flower usually associated with good fortune. You collected it all in a jute sack and Valka told you that the tiny buds could be used to aid with digestion and bladder issues. It astounded you every day, the way nature gave you everything you needed to heal and to help, to eat and drink, a cure for every illness and aid in every situation. You stuck one of the small heather branches into your shirt so it rested between your breasts, right over your heart. The winter solstice tomorrow would bring you luck and happiness, you could feel it.
 This year you would not celebrate Christmas as you had done your whole life, but instead, the solstice would herald Yuletide, twelve days of celebrations. There would be sacrifices and feasts, fights and dances, singing and storytelling. Valka’s eyes were gleaming when she told you of the traditions and her plans for this year’s feast. You could tell this was special to her and you had a feeling that it would be like nothing you had ever experienced.
 As you started to make your way back, daylight now dwindling fast and leaving the world gray and dim, you could hear a wolf howling in the distance. You shuddered, terrified of the wild beasts that had sometimes ripped apart your Lord’s sheep and dogs. Valka sensed your fear and took your hand in hers.
 “You must not be afraid of the wolves anymore, little dove. You belong to Eivor Wolfsmal and no wolf will ever harm you.”
 Her words made you think. Up until now, you had thought the name stemmed from her family or maybe a sweet story from her home, but you had never really considered a strong meaning behind it. Now that you thought of it, that was stupid. Only people who went through extreme pain or overcame great obstacles were given those kinds of titles.
 “Where did that name come from?” you asked Valka, “Wolf-kissed?”
 The healer squeezed your hand. It was dark and the lights of the village only slowly became visible in the distance, but the moon was bright and lit your path in the white snow.
 “You have to ask Eivor that, it is her story to tell. I can say however that it was not a mere kiss by the beast that gave her the title. Did you ever notice the scar on her neck?”
 Your stomach twisted. You knew the scar she was speaking of. It was dreadful and large, covering the entire right side of her neck from her hairline to her throat. You had thought it a burn mark or something obtained in a fight. Had it really been the result of a wolf attack? The thought scared you even more. Valka held your hand tightly in hers.
 “Ask her, she will tell you what happened. You need not be afraid, I promise.”
 As you finally came close to the village again, Valka stopped and turned to you.
 “I wanted to tell you how greatly I enjoy spending time with you. People come to me with questions all the time, but they just want to hear answers, they do not want to find the answers themselves or even learn how to ask the questions the right way. You truly listen to me and you have already learned so much. I hope I can teach you everything I know so that one day you may know more than me.”
 You wanted to laugh, but she was completely serious. You drew her in for a hug and mumbled your gratitude into her furs.
 “Thank you, Valka, for all you do. I am just as eager to learn and grow as you are to teach. You are a wonderful friend.”
 “Y/N, is that you? Valka?” A voice in the dark called out to you. A big figure was stomping along the path toward you from the village. It was Eivor, visibly agitated. “What the fuck are you doing?”
 You could see her breath in the moonlight as she came closer.
 “Uh… We collected plants for Valka and for the Yule festival?” You were not sure what you had done wrong. Eivor came to a halt in front of you and immediately pulled you into her arms, sighing as she pressed you close for a moment, then she held you at arm’s length and shot you both angry looks.
 “What were you thinking, alone out here in the dark without anyone to protect you or at least a torch? Have you gone mad? Thor's hammer, I was so worried! Valka, what is your explanation for this?”
 Valka seemed not at all impressed with Eivor’s display of rage and worry.
 “As Y/N said, we were collecting plants. The moon lit our way, we were close to the village and only walked along the shore. There was no need to worry. We are no longer in Norway, with bears and wolves all around.”
 You quickly glanced at her but decided to keep the howl you had heard to yourself. Eivor grunted, then she grabbed you both by the arms and began to stride back to the village, pulling you along with her. You could have sworn you heard Valka giggle, but the drengr between you ignored her.
 Back at the village Eivor told you, a little too sternly, to go to her hut and wait for her there. She had set up a basin with hot water for you to clean yourself and the clothes you had washed in the morning and hung in front of the fireplace would be dry by now.
 “I need to go to the longhouse and make more preparations for tomorrow. Valka, will you come with me?”
 The seeress just nodded, gave you a secretive smile, and went ahead. Eivor stayed behind with you. She sighed and pulled you in for another hug, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back.
 “Don’t ever scare me like that again. I thought you were lost and I would have to call up everyone to go look for you, the day before Yule.”
 You wrapped your arms around her waist and looked up at her.
 “I apologize,” you mumbled. “I should have told you where we were going and how long we would be gone. I won’t leave you in the dark anymore.”
 “Thank you.” Eivor pressed another kiss to your temple. “I’ll see you later.” She left for the longhouse.
 Birna rubbed herself against your ankles - you had completely forgotten about her! She had followed you this entire time. You had to laugh as you picked up the cat and held her close; you had not been without protection after all.
 Back at your hut you dropped all of your clothes to the floor and splashed some of the warm water in the metal bowl into your cold face, relishing in the wonderful prickly sensation of your skin warming up. You cleaned your body with a small piece of soap and a cloth, then you slipped into a fresh tunic that was still warm from the fire.
 As you waited for Eivor, you mended a few holes in your clothes and the quilt that kept you warm in the cold winter nights. Picking up your clothes and folding them so you could stack them in the corner, you noticed the little branch of heather among the heaps of fabric and fur. You spun it between your fingers a few times, contemplating over the things you had learned from Valka today.
 The Yule festival would be wonderful and you were hoping to bond with the other clan members even more, maybe even to see Eda again. You noticed that you had forgotten to ask Randvi about her. Hopefully, the matter would resolve itself tomorrow. Even though you were on good terms with Randvi now, you were still not too keen on spending more time with her than was absolutely necessary.
 You were half asleep when you heard Eivor at the door and sat up to greet her. She seemed to be in a great mood.
 “How are the preparations going?” you asked, pulling the blanket up to your chin.
 “Oh, fantastic. We will slaughter an ox tomorrow and roast him over a great fire. We will eat like kings for days!” Eivor beamed at you and jumped into the bed, quickly sliding under the blanket and pressing her cold cheek to your shoulder, making you squeal and try to scramble away, but she only pulled you closer.
 After playfully wrestling with her for a moment, you settled down and she tucked a strand of hair behind your hair. An idea suddenly came to your mind.
 “Eivor, will you teach me how to fight without weapons?”
 “What do you mean, my dove?” She gave you a confused look.
 “I mean fighting like when you pulled Norvid off of me the other day. I want to learn to defend myself even if it’s not a life or death situation.”
  “Oh, I see.” She sat up. “Right now?”
 You had thought she could just put this into her training schedule for you, but you would not say no to a few new skills on the spot.
 “Why not?” You got up and stood next to the bed. Eivor stood next to you. Birna seemed to know exactly what was going on and hid under the bed.
 “Alright. First, what to do when someone hugs you without your approval. Show me what you would do.” She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around you. Your first instinct was to hug her back, but you remembered just in time that you were supposed to fight her off. You put your hands between you and tried to push against her ribcage, but she did not move an inch. Instead, she pressed you closer and you could not move your hands anymore.
 “See, this is your first mistake,” Eivor chuckled. “You gave up your hands. Never let them capture your limbs and if they have, try to free them first. What you could do now is either headbutt me, stomp on my foot, or kick me in the groin if your legs are free to move that way.”
 You slowly put your foot on hers and pressed down. She laughed at your careful movement and let go, then she hugged your ribcage again, leaving your arms free.
 “Now you could punch me in the ribs or the head, but as you have no training in that regard, I could probably take the hits and lock you in again. It’s better to go straight for the head. Grab it with both hands if you can and twist it away from your body.” You gently placed your hands around her head and turned it away. “If I don’t want you to snap my neck, my body has to move along.” She turned with her head and loosened her hug. You mimicked stomping on her foot and she let go completely, stepping back and grinning at you.
 “Perfect!” Eivor took your hand and whirled you around, suddenly grabbing you from behind and pinning your arms to your body.
 “Now how about this?” Her breath was hot behind your ear and sent shivers down your spine.
 You tried to wiggle free, scratched at her sides with your fingernails, and put all your strength into freeing your arms, but she held you in her iron grip. You resorted to stepping on her toes again, but she only loosened her grip slightly.
 “You need to drop your weight first,” she instructed. “Bend your knees and let yourself fall down, then smash my foot with yours.” You followed her command and she gave way enough to take a step forward. “Now kick your foot back and catch my knee.” You did as she told you and she let go before immediately pulling you in again.
 “You can also throw your head back and try to break my nose before taking that step forward and kicking my knee.” You tried it out carefully.
 “If you need to run away, always go for their knees or groin so they drop and cannot follow,” she reminded you. “Let’s go again.”
 With a playful growl, she jumped toward you and you squealed as she grabbed you from behind, then you let yourself fall down, stomped on her foot, and kicked her shin. She gasped in pain and let you go, rubbing the spot where you had hit her.
 “Good girl,” she groaned. “Remind me never to surprise you from behind.”
 You laughed and began to apologize, but she just grabbed you and threw you on the bed, pinning you beneath her. She sat up between your legs and pinned down your throat, keeping the weight of her hands on your collar bones instead of actually choking you. Her face was smooth and focused.
 “Now, what you do if someone is holding you down like so is this: You grab my left shoulder with your left arm, so go across” - you placed your hand on her shoulder, your pinky finger touching her burning hot skin - “then you press my right hand to your chest with your right hand and hold it tight there.”
 You grabbed her hand and pressed it to your collarbone, almost sure she could feel your heart beating faster in your chest.
 “Now you raise your right leg all the way up under my left armpit and wrap it across my back.” She waited until you had hooked your leg around her body, now completely entangled with the large woman on top of you.
“Your final move is raising up your left leg, pushing me further to the left with your hand on my shoulder, and lifting the leg over my head.” You suddenly realized that you were only wearing a tunic and linen undergarments, your legs wide open underneath her and your tunic sliding up to your stomach as you lifted your hips to wrap your legs around her shoulder. Your cheeks began to burn hot with blood, but you followed her orders quietly.
 “Now you have my shoulder in a tight lock, my head is pushed away from you and you have captured my right arm. If you pull it, it will seriously hurt me.” You immediately let go of her hand and she straightened up and smiled at you. You pulled your tunic down, blushing at the look she gave you.
 “Again, faster this time.” She repositioned herself between your legs and pressed her hands to your throat.
 You concentrated. Left hand to her left shoulder, right hand holding her right arm down, leg up, left leg over and pull. Eivor tapped your thigh and groaned again, rubbing her shoulder this time and moving her arm in circles a few times to loosen up the strained muscle. She looked quite impressed with you.
 Jumping up from the bed, you got in your fighting stance.
 “Let’s try again, full strength this time,” you said and you could see Eivor was stifling a grin. She would never risk hurting you.
 She got up and paused for a moment, then she moved in so quickly you had no chance to react, hugging you from the side and clamping down your arms. You tried to drop your weight, but she just pushed her hips forward and picked you up, your legs flailing in the air uselessly. She threw you on the bed like a sack of flour, then she straddled you and pinned down your wrists above your head.
 You were so stunned that you did not even attempt to wriggle free, staring up at the blonde above you. Her icy blue gaze burned into your face, her mouth was slightly open and her breath fast as her eyes wandered to your lips. Slowly, she lowered her head down toward yours, her gaze still fixed to your lips and her grip tight around your wrists.
 For a moment, you breathed in each other’s air. You were one.
 At the last second, you realized your advantage. In one swift motion, you rammed your hips upwards so she flew forward over your head and had to let go of your hands to catch herself. You wrapped your legs around her waist and pulled her right arm underneath her and to your right so she fell on her shoulder and rolled to the side, leaving way for you to roll on top of her. Now you were straddling her, her arm still in your hands.
 She was completely thunderstruck, her eyes wide as she realized what had happened. Then she started laughing, her deep baritone filling the room. You could feel her chest vibrating beneath you, a sensation that made blood not only rush to your cheeks but also further down.
 Quickly, you got off of her and let yourself fall to the mattress next to her. She was still chuckling.
 “You got me, my delicate dove. An important thing people often forget is the element of surprise. If you have it on your side, you can defeat the greatest, strongest warrior.”
 Eivor turned to you and rested her head on her bicep, dreamy gaze wandering over your face again. She was completely infatuated with you.
 “Can I ask you something?” you said quietly.
 “Of course, my darling.”
 “Why do they call you Wolf-kissed?”
 The warrior rolled on her back again and crossed her arms over her head, studying the wooden ceiling like she always did when she was struggling to put the chaos in her head into words. You followed her gaze and waited patiently.
 “Sigurd is not my real brother. His father was the head of our clan and my parents were great drengrs, fighting at his side. One day he was giving a feast when we were attacked. I was only a child. It was Kjotve the Cruel. He slaughtered my parents and many of our clan. I only survived because Sigurd fled with me, but we got separated and I ended up injured on a frozen lake.” She laid her arm over her eyes as if trying to see the scene before her.
 “When I came to my senses, a wolf was there with me. He was all alone and looked like he was starving. His pack must have cast him out. My axe was just out of reach and he attacked me, biting down into my neck to kill me. My cries alerted two ravens nearby” - she lifted her arm again and gave you a bittersweet smile - “and they distracted the wolf long enough so I could grab my axe and strike it. Sigurd found me soon after and his family adopted and raised me.”
 Your heart felt like a little clump of cold, hard clay after listening to her frightful story. What could you say to her? She let out a quiet laugh.
 “Don’t worry, you do not have to pity or console me. I have long made my peace with wolves and I have taken vengeance for my parents. Now all that is left of that terrible day is my scar and my voice.”
 She hesitated for a moment, then she looked at you again.
 “And a tremendous fear of losing those I love.”
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By the king’s hand 🐍 VI
Warnings: warnings to be added as we progress but this series may contain non-consent, violence, death, and other triggers (this chapter, oral, violence, degradation)
This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: The king proves to be mercurial and you prove to be foolish.
Note: Masterlist update coming today @darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor​. Updates might be sporadic from here on out because despite the world being utter shit, Black Friday still exists.
Thank you. Love you guys!
As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3
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The air was fragrant as you sat on the low bench, wrapped in only a robe, and stared out the window. On the other side of the room, Loki dressed with the help of the young boy, Hal. The steam of his bath still dissipated in the air as he grumbled now and then, often drinking deeply from his glass and pouring another slosh of water from the pitcher.
It was as if you weren’t there. How easily the king forgot about all but himself. He dressed in dark blue that day, trimmed in an ivory cape and boots. He swatted Hal away and touched his temple as the sunlight made him squint. He sighed and brushed his fingers through the ends of his dark locks.
“Today will be the riding events. I did excuse myself from those lists.” He spoke, almost as if to himself. “Tomorrow I will be in better condition to win at the blade.”
You were quiet as you drew your legs up onto the bench. You slouched over your knees and rested your chin on your crossed arms.
“I will be gone much of the day but I expect you ready upon my return,” he neared and his shadow loomed over you, “You will undoubtedly be eager for it… From what I recall of last evening, you might even be begging for it.”
You glowered up at him as he smirked and winced then tapped his forehead.
“What am I to do? I have nothing but to walk the boards and stare out at the grass. I will be mad by the time you return.” You muttered as you turned your head away.
“All the better,” he slithered. He lifted his toe and swiveled his heel. He exhaled deeply. “Well, what should you like to do?”
“Besides the obvious?” You sneered.
“Perhaps, if you behave, I will see you to a stroll among the corridors when all are retired, but for now I cannot offer much more.” He sniffed, “So, what is it you peasants occupy your time with?”
You blinked and rubbed your cheek as you thought. You hadn’t much besides your work and your occasional adventures with Gilla. Neither would be viable now.
“I might try to sketch?” You looked up at last.
He considered you with a wrinkle in his brow and nodded. “I will grant you the favour upon the promise of one in kind,” he said, “...upon my return.”
You bit down. You expected as much but it still irked you. You turned to the window again.
“As you wish, your majesty.” You stared out at the green leaves that crested the branches of the palace yards. You felt him watch you a moment longer before he retreated.
“Hal, you will fetch her paper and some charcoal,” his soft soles approached the door, “Tend to her meals as you will and draw her a bath. She is starting to smell a bit… common.”
“Your majesty,” Hal chirped and followed the king through to the receiving chambers.
You listened as the doors opened and closed and you dropped your legs over the edge of the bench as you leaned against the wall. You grunted in frustration and hit the bench with your fist. It was exactly what Loki wanted; you at his mercy. Those small requests would grow to desperate pleas. His ploy was working but you could do little to keep him from controlling you entirely.
🐍
You weren’t very good at drawing but you managed a sloppy image of the scene through the window. The trees were slightly crooked and the gate uneven but it kept you busy for a time. You turned to a blank sheet but couldn’t focus enough to draw as you could hear the distant audience from the other side of the glass.
The common folk didn’t often attend these events. If they were present, they were selling wares to those lords and ladies who gathered for the pageantry. Still, trapped in the endless monotony, you longed to join the festivity. Anything but to sit within those walls and wait until your tormentor returned. Even if he could make you feel splendid, the king was little more than your warden.
As the sun reached its peak, Hal appeared to draw your bath with several attendants. You washed alone and dressed in one of the gowns provided by the king. You hate how the satin clung to your torso even with its boning and how the skirts tickled your legs as they swished.
You ate a little. Your tedium turned to impatience turned to agitation. The day faded from yellow to a calm blue and slowly dimmed beyond the stone walls. The din quieted as the sun descended. The king’s presence loomed in your mind.
You attempted a sketch of a lion statuette and relinquished the charcoal in frustration. Hal appeared with two covered plates on a tray and set them on the table. He placed a bottle of wine and some goblets alongside them and left you without a word. The boy seemed nervous since your prior conversation.
The king entered without fanfare. You looked up at him as you were distracted from the trance that had you staring into the unlit hearth. He glanced over at you and frowned. He tutted and removed his cape.
“I am aware your etiquette is unrefined but you will rise and pay your obeisance to me upon my arrival,” he uttered, “Do not think I grow negligent in my expectation of you, little mouse.”
You stood stiffly and bowed. He sat at the table and huffed.
“Well, get over here,” he pointed to the other chair, “Pour some wine.”
You crossed to the table and filled a goblet for him. Your own, you only filled to the half point. You sat and uncovered your plate as he did the same. He poked at the food. He was annoyed already.
“Are you not hungry?” He asked as he twirled his fork. “I am informed your plates are left barely touched as late.”
“I am,” you scooped up a potato, “I will eat.”
He tilted his head and considered you. He dropped his fork and leaned back in his seat. “Do not force yourself on my account,” he said, “If you do not appreciate the fare, then you may forego your supper.”
“Your majesty, I will--”
“No, no, as I recall, you owe me,” he glanced at the paper on the edge of the table and the sticks of charcoal, “And as I do anticipate an early morning on account of the competition, I would rather we sort this out sooner.”
He dropped a hand down and picked at the laces of his trousers, “Come, under the table,” he bid, “If you will not eat then you may use your mouth for other means.”
You glared at him, mortified. You brought your fork to your lips and he was quick to rise and bat it away. The top of his pants drooped as you dropped the silver and you blanched at him. He dropped back into his chair.
“I do not issue requests, I give orders. Now on your knees or I will have you even quicker on your back.”
“Then do it already,” you snarled, “I tire of your boasting.”
He stood once more, this time so abrubtly that his chair toppled behind him. He was upon you in a moment, his hands around your head as he forced you to your feet. His eyes flared down at you as you grabbed onto his arms and wrestled with him. You stumbled as he dragged you around the chamber he angled you toward the settee.
He shoved you down and slipped a hand down to your throat as he straddled you beneath him. He slid his hand down the front of his open trousers and pulled out his hard member. He lifted his knees and moved up to pin down your shoulders. He squeezed your throat tightly as he bent over you and guided his cock to your lips.
“You bite me and I will have your teeth on the floor,” he threatened, “Now open for your king.”
You clenched your lips but as your breath dwindled, you gasped and he quickly slipped inside your mouth. He sank down your throat as he brought his hand up above your head and thrust his hips roughly. You choked and kicked out. You slapped his thighs as you struggled to breathe.
He groaned as his hips slammed down harder and harder. You gagged and your eyes lolled back as your vision swam with tears.
“You do push me when I am already… inflamed,” he grunted, “When my temper has already been stoked by incompetents.”
He fucked your face without relent as you were trapped beneath him. His fingers stretched over your head and he sped up once more. He panted as he chased his end and when it rose, he flooded your throat without warning. He continued to rock into you until you swallowed around him. He shivered at the sensation and sat back as he slowly drew himself from your mouth.
His cock glistened as he rested his weight on your chest and steadied himself. He swallowed and hung his head back. Without looking, he poked two fingers into your mouth. Without thinking, you gnashed his digits between your teeth. You were met quickly with a strike across your cheek.
He wiggled his fingers, further pained by the slap, and growled.
“Must you insist on difficulty,” he pushed himself off of you and tucked away his cock. He grabbed your arm and wrenched you onto the floor. “There you are.” He jabbed you with his toe. “You can spend your night there.”
He shoved you back with his boot and spun away from you. He went to the table and took the heel of bread from his plate and the entire bottle of wine. “No supper for you. If I see that you’ve so much as stolen a crumb, I will whip you myself.”
He stomped to the bedroom doors and looked back at you one last time. “And leave the boy alone. He is not your friend.”
🐍
You stayed on the floor but didn’t sleep much. Little hazes but nothing more. Loki stirred in the next room and you turned to face the wall. You didn’t move as a knock sounded shortly after. The young boy seemed to always sense when he was required. He entered and hesitated as he passed you before the settee. He carried on and you let out the air in your lungs.
You heard the king’s voice and the activity that followed his awakening. When he emerged, you remained as you were. He ordered Hal around as he sat to tie his boots. He scoffed as he rose and swept towards the door.
“I know you are awake, mouse,” he said, “Let’s not make deception a habit.”
You refused to respond and he huffed. The door opened and he paused in the doorway. “See to her meals, boy.” His voice shifted direction, “Sir, you will watch the door.”
A grumble came in response to the orders as the door snapped shut. You rolled onto your back and sat up. The morning light made your head pulse and your eyelids drooped heavily. You pulled yourself up onto the settee and buried your face in the cushion. You hadn’t the energy to stay mad, you only needed sleep. It wasn’t long before it came.
When you woke, you were groggy. A plate awaited you on the table and the same buzz floated from outside the walls. Another day of sport and you were, as ever, pent up inside on the king’s whim. You slunk over to the table and ate without tasting. Your stomach ached until it was satisfied.
You stood and paced. You stopped at the window as you tried to get a glimpse of the tents erected around the tourney grounds but the silk offered little sign of what was unfolding. You hated that you had to wait, it was all you did. The king had chosen your punishment well. This purgatory was worse than any dungeon.
You marched back and forth. Your anger began to bubble over. Well, if he should have you do nothing, you will find something to keep yourself occupied. Perhaps you might tear down the drapes or dismantle the framed pictures of his smug ancestors. What worse could he do that he did not intend already?
You kicked the door as you passed it and your toe throbbed. Your slippers offered little padding and you swore. Further enraged by your pain, you punched the door. You stopped and listened through the wood. You could hear the drafty emptiness of the halls. Cautiously, you rested your hand on the handle and pressed until the lever lifted. 
You pulled the door an inch inward and waited for it to be forced back into place. But you met no resistance and poked your head into the corridor. There was no guard, no passing resident, no spy you could see. You retreated and steadied your nerves. Was it a trick? A trap? Either way, it was too much to deny.
You went to the wardrobe and took down the grey cloak hung within. You tied it at your throat and peered back into the halls. Still, no keeper to stop you from your escape. Well, it would only be a brief sojourn. You only wanted to see the games. To know what made the crowd so raucous.
You hesitated. If the king discovered your flight, you would be in dire trouble. Yet, he was competing himself and wouldn’t even know. So long as you were back before your guard. Where was that lug anyhow?
You put your foot down lightly. You slowly leaned your weight on it and stepped out into the hall, testing its vacancy. Still, you were alone. You pulled up your hood and closed the door behind you. You weren’t certain which way to go in the immense palace.
You lost yourself several times over before you found the stairs. You scurried down the steps and hid your face as well as you could as you passed by servants in their aprons and caps. You felt as if they all knew, as if any would accost you and report your offense back to the king.
But they didn’t and you kept on until you stumbled in disbelief onto the green. You followed the scent of roasting beef and the wall of voices to the cluster of tents along the sporting field. There were benches set on platforms to house the observers; the ladies waving their handkerchiefs and the older lords cheering on their favourites.
You stood before the steps of the stands and glanced around. Surely you were being followed. You couldn’t have just walked out onto the green so easily. It felt too simple. It felt a snare but yet you kept going.
You climbed up and pushed down your hood as no other wore theirs. You needed to blend in with the crowd. You walked behind a row of ladies as they stood and called out to the field. You stopped behind them and stood on tiptoes to see past them. Two contestants in armor charged at each other with blunted blades. The tourneys had long since traded real steel for training weapons. The forgers often complained of the flimsy designs.
You edged past the line of ladies and upon a closer look, you recognised the fighters. The prince, Thor, fought in red armor with a lion on its helm, and his brother, the king, faced him with serpents across his breast plate. As you heard it, the custom was to allow the monarch a victory.
Still, the audience held its breath as the swords crashed together once more. The much larger royal barely missed his brother with a fearsome strike. Loki was quick and kicked out Thor’s leg. The elder slipped but recovered easily as he batted away the next swing. The two danced around each other; Loki, graceful and light, Thor, lumbering but effective.
As Thor struck down with both hands, Loki deflected him but found the dull blade snapped by the force. He stumbled back and dodged his brother’s next attack. The king was fast but defenseless. He ducked and dove all around but at last found himself cornered by his burly brother. You saw the desperation and the realisation in his posture.
He made an attempt to disarm his brother only to be thrown back. He landed with a thud on his back and the crowd went silent. Thor sheathed his sword and offered his hand to his brother. There was a moment before the gesture was accepted and the king was hauled onto his feet. The men clapped each others’ shoulders politely but all knew there was little comradery between them. Only the prince would dare best the king. And he had dared.
The king waved to the crowd and the competitors were led from the field. The king reached to remove his helm as he walked towards the stall and looked out into the crowd. His jaw was tense and even at a distance you could see his spite. And, you swore, he could see you.
You carefully took a step back and hid behind the figure next to you. You let out a shuddery breath. He could know, now from so far away. You were just another body in the crowd. Well, you had come and seen the fuss. You would have to go before your absence was discovered and the alarm sent up.
You retraced your steps and staggered onto the grass. After such a loss, the king would be even angrier. He did not lie when he said his brother provoked him like no other. A dark foreboding stabbed you.
You already regretted your mistake. A moment of impulsivity had taken you too far. But he hadn’t seen you. He couldn’t have. You were just paranoid. 
You ducked your head down and raced up the palace steps and followed a servant until you found the stairs. You were lost again as you reached the top. The corridors seemed to only lead into each other in circles but at last, you caught your bearings.
You turned the corner that led to the king’s chambers but were suddenly jerked back as a painful grip closed around your arm. Magnus sneered down at you as his hand threatened to crush your bones. He slammed you against the wall and you gasped.
“The king will not be happy with you, wench,” he snarled, “Oh, I think he might just toss you back where you belong.”
“Let go of me,” you rasped, “Ow!”
He shook you with a sharp hiss.
“Shut your fucking mouth. You know what he will do when I reveal to him what you’ve done?” He taunted. 
You gulped down air and croaked out as squirmed helplessly. “And what… about you? What will he think of the guard who let me free?” You trembled as his grey eyes bore into you, “When he learns that your absence allowed for my escape?”
His nostrils flared and he squeezed your arms. His jaw ticked as he stared you down then all at once, his hands dropped. He shoved you away from the wall.
“You keep quiet and go back,” he stomped behind you, “And I won’t snap your neck and tell him you asked for it.”
You went to the door and he was close behind. He reached past you and opened the door so that it hit the wall. He grabbed the back of your neck and dragged you inside. He kicked the back of your legs so that they collapsed and he forced you down to the ground as bent over you.
“I know why the king keeps you, whore,” he spat, “He will tire of you soon and I will delight in throwing you back to the dungeons.” He pushed until your face met the floor. “When he is done, he might just let me finish breaking you.”
He pushed away from you and flipped you with his foot. He clutched his pommel and sneered down at you as he circled you. His chest puffed out and he stopped sharply on his heel.
“A little rat like you will be back to the gutter soon enough,” he backed away as he seemed tempted to draw his blade. “I’ll make sure of it the next time you stray.”
He slammed the door behind him and it shook in his stead. You laid on the floor, paralysed with adrenaline. You blinked up at the ceiling and breathed at last. You were truly out of your depth.
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unnursvanablog · 3 years
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The Great, season 2 / review.
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This is just my opinions on the second season of The Great. Little to no spoilers below!
The Great became one of the best shows I watched last year and I've been waiting for a second series ever since it was announced. I don't often binge-watch show but there's something about The Great that just pulls me along with it and I just can't stop. I adore this show. It's so much of what I enjoy about period dramas and then adds extra humor and ridiculousness to the story. The costumes are fabulous, the scenery is gorgeous, the humor is witty and obscene (in a good way), the characters are really tangible and full of flaws, the politics are clever and it also manages to do something new and refreshing within the period drama format that I really appreciate. It's so unique and original. It's such a joy to watch.
The second season follows so well in the footsteps of the first one. It's very seamless and yet different enough. I was worried it would lose a little bit of its sparkle by trying too hard to recreate what it had done in the first seasons, which has a tendency to happen to these shows, but it didn't seem to do so. It's still the same force to it and a charm that I can't get enough.
This season explores new aspects of the characters we met in the first series. Catherin and Peter almost change position, in the court and in their marriage, this time around but it never works as if the character has changed too much in order for it to match the story that is now being told. Peter isn't as loud (but still just as much of an dumb but somehow loveable asshole) than in the first one while Catherine is louder and bolder and in control the whole time. Their status has changed. I feel like I've managed to connect even more with the characters this time around. There is more heart and more softness or vulnerability now, despite all the tension and bloodshed within the Russian court.
Both Holt and Fanning are so devastatingly good in these roles and put so much of a feeling and humor to these characters. They also have really good chemistry between each other that that I really look forward to every scene with them together. They play off each other so well. I love seeing them together even though Catherine and Peter aren't a good mix in real life. But The Great also plays a little around with reality and history so it really works. Both Peter and Catherine are really fascinating but flawed characters.
The foundation for those two been set in the first one so therefor this season can broaden our horizons and giving more focus to other characters within the court even though the show has difficulty keeping a balance between those characters and the show's overall story at times. It feels like some characters were left along the side-lines as the story was ramping up to a close for the season.
But what I think The Great manages really well is to take a traditional costume drama with all of the secrets, backstabbing, betrayal and politics that can be exciting but unnecessarily serious at times and expand on it and to making something new out of it. The Great does turn all of the court drama into a joke and exploits its absurdity very well for the story while also managing to be very clever about it and maintain excitement and humor throughout it all.
The way it focused on and explored Catherine's position of power within the palace this season was so great. It really managed to highlight all the changes she wanted to make because she had big ideas that worked too lofty and naïve in the eyes of the others because Catherine doesn't yet know how to execute everything she wants to slowly enough so people can adjust. It causes really nice tension throughout this arc of the story.
It's a pleasure to watch and doesn't feel too repetitive which was one of my worries. There is just so much backstabbing and back and forth frenemies you can do before the shine wears off. I did think the story slightly dragged around the middle of the show. The first half is more character-focused and it takes a while to get from that to the final chapter (which is absolutely worth it) and yet I never felt bored of it. Everything else works so well even if the story took it's time to ramp up. Lots of funny lines, I couldn't get enough of the characters and I never really knew what next clever trick this shows was going to throw at me next. And I looked forward to every scene with Holt or Fannig. They're just that good. It's well worth the ride.
I was really going to try my best to find something more good things to say about this shows without just repeating what I said last time. But the show is just very constantly good. It just took off where it left us and just went full speed ahead. It's really amazing how much momentum The Great still has in it. It must be very difficult to keep the energy and humor of the show consistent without it working too repeated or like it has overextended itself in some way. And I hope the show continues to do so.
Huzzah! is all I can say.
Can we get a seaosn 3 now?
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computerkisser · 3 years
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the proposal fic :)
word count: 493 // pairing: sawyer x hal
“Your move, babe.”
Sawyer smiled up at HAL from across the chessboard. This was a new chess set, and HAL had been very excited, in his subdued way, to play a game with Sawyer using it. Sawyer had matched his energy for it, always eager to get more practice with this game they really weren’t great at, and of course loving to spend time with their boyfriend.
“Hmm,” HAL hummed in thought, “queen to f1.”
Sawyer nodded as they picked up HAL’s queen and moved it to the space in question. Typically, when the couple played chess, it was digitally, but HAL really wanted to use this set with Sawyer, and Sawyer appreciated the feeling of the little wood pieces in their hands.
They looked at the board. “…oh, you have me in checkmate,” they realized, though there wasn’t a trace of disappointment in their voice. They knew HAL was objectively more skilled at the game than them, but that was just motivation to do better, and they were just happy to play.
“I do,” he replied simply. “Thank you for a wonderful game.” Then a slight pause, before he continued, “…I’ve noticed you tend to tip your king when you lose a match with physical pieces. It’s… unnecessary, but endearing. It humanizes the game, in a way, personifies the piece into a true fallen king. It’s very artful.”
Sawyer let out a sheepish giggle. “It sounds really deep and intentional when you put it that way; it’s just a habit, and makes me feel more like I’m playing chess. Like, chessy-chess.” HAL let out a sound almost like a soft chuckle.
“That’s exactly what I love about you.” His voice was soft, measured. “I don’t think you realize just how charming it all is. It’s amazing. You’re amazing.”
They grinned. “HAL, you’re getting all sappy on me.”
“Perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself, just a bit,” he said. “Let’s focus on the little things for the moment. Such as how you tend to tip your king when you’re in checkmate.”
Sawyer, being reminded to indulge in this little habit, tipped their king over — and noticed a metallic glint under its base. “Huh?”
They picked the piece up and examined it closely. “Oh my god.” That was a ring under there.
They were still studying it, wide awestruck eyes, trying to take it out of its little secured place as gently as possible, as HAL spoke: “Sawyer… I’ve been trying to find the right words for this for a long time, and you know I am incapable of error, yet — it’s a rather difficult task to put everything I feel for you into words. Maybe simplicity is the best approach in this scenario. I love you, Sawyer, and I am confident I will love you indefinitely. Would you be willing to marry me?”
“Oh my god, yes! Yes!” They fumbled the ring onto their finger as they kept gushing, “yes, yes!!”
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asilentguardian · 3 years
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take me in your tender arms, roll me in the dirt
(Second time writing smut. It’s not super detailed, but it’s still explicit under the cut. I also did not take anytime to look over this, so I will probably edit it tomorrow. Happy Belated Birthday Hal!)
also on ao3
Their annual joint birthday party went later than usual this year. With new members in the League, new additions to Bruce’s family, and the fact that this was their first year as a couple, the process of saying goodbye to all the guests took half an hour. The cake and presents before that took ages. If Bruce had it his way, they would spend their birthdays in a bed, only leaving for food. Hell, even Hal had started to look like he wanted to be anywhere else near the end.
When they finally make it through the door of Bruce’s bedroom, Hal flops backwards onto his bed with a dramatic groan.
“Since when did those things include so many people? I don’t remember the watchtower feeling that small last year,” Hal says. Bruce hums in agreement and leans back against the door, taking in the sight of Hal Jordan spread across his bed. He drags his eyes across the other man’s body, gaze lingering on his thighs. The jeans that Hal had worn clung to his legs almost as snugly as his uniform does.
If Bruce wasn’t already half-hard in his jeans from Hal “accidentally” brushing up against him all night, he would be from the sight of Hal’s legs spread out on the bed like they were now.
Hal pushes himself up on his elbows and gives Bruce a smug smile.
“You gonna keep staring or are you gonna come over here?”
Bruce rolls his eyes but pushes himself off the door and stalks towards the bed, stopping to toe off his shoes. Hal quickly follows suit as Bruce crawls onto the mattress, hands bracketing Hal’s head, legs slotting between Hal’s. Their hips aren’t touching just yet.
Bruce stops for a moment, takes in the sight before him. Brown eyes looking up at him, hair that started the night styled now sticking every which way. The smirk on Hal’s lips softens to something sweeter. Hal’s hand comes up to grab Bruce’s shirt and pull him into a kiss, but Bruce dodges Hal’s lips and starts pressing kisses anywhere he can reach.
Hal’s forehead, his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids as they flutter shut, his chin, his jaw, the corner of his mouth. Hal takes advantage of that one and turns his head to kiss Bruce properly.
Kissing Hal still makes Bruce’s breath catch in his throat, still makes electricity shoot down his chest. Makes his racing thoughts narrow down to the feeling of soft lips against his own, the feeling of Hal’s tongue licking into this mouth. The feeling of warm hands running across his jaw, down his neck and torso, under his shirt. They have to break apart for Hal to lift his shirt off, and Bruce takes advantage of the pause to pull Hal’s shirt off as well.
The feeling of their bareskin touching as Bruce leans back down makes him feel weak. Bruce lowers himself to his elbows as he lays his body across Hal’s. They’re lips connect again, and the new angle makes their hips brush together.
Hal moans, breaking their lips apart as he throws his head back. Bruce smiles and rolls his hips into Hal’s, just to hear him make that noise again.
He can’t resist the sight of Hal’s neck stretched out before him, so he attaches his mouth to skin and leaves a trail of feather-light kisses from Hal’s jaw to his collarbone.
They’re both hard in their jeans now, hips grinding against one another, pulling whines from deep in Hal’s throat. They could both come like this, they have come like this many times before, but Bruce is desperate to pull as many noises as possible out of Hal, desperate to have him fall apart under his touch.
So Bruce continues kissing down Hal’s torso, drags his hands over Hal until they settle on his hips. He glances up, makes sure Hal is watching as he presses a kiss on Hal’s jeans, right over his crotch. Hal’s eyes are wide, his mouth open as he pants, already worked up from having Bruce’s hands on him.
Bruce is slow and deliberate as he brings his hands to the buttons on Hal’s jeans. Hal tries desperately to grind into Bruce’s palm. Bruce pins his hips to the bed, which makes Hal let out a particularly loud whine.
“Yeah?” Bruce asks, his voice rough. Hal nods his head frantically and Bruce chuckles, quickly unbuttoning Hal’s jeans the rest of the way and shoving them down along with Hal’s underwear. He barely dodges Hal’s feet as they kick the clothes somewhere off to the side.
Bruce runs his hands over Hal’s thighs, places kisses against his skin, undeterred by Hal’s frustrated groan. He sucks a hickey into his inner thigh, kisses over it and turns to the other thigh to do the same. It’s no secret that Bruce loves Hal’s thighs, something they’ve explored many times. Just the thought of coming between them has Bruce grinding against the mattress.
“Come on, Bruce,” Hal whines. Bruce raises an eyebrow at him.
“You’ve been teasing me all night, I think you deserve a little payback,” Bruce says. Hal groans and flops down on the bed, resigning himself to the feeling of Bruce’s mouth exploring everywhere but where he wanted it most.
Bruce slowly makes his way to Hal’s cock, lips just barely brushing the base. Hal’s hips twitch again, trying to thrust upwards, so Bruce pins them down again as he licks a line up his cock.
“Fuck, yes,” Hal moans. Bruce smiles before taking the tip of Hal’s cock into his mouth, curling his tongue around it and sucking. Hal cries out and one of his hands flies to Bruce’s head to tangle in his hair, pulling a moan out of Bruce.
Bruce takes the rest of Hal into his mouth with the same single minded focus that he has for most things. Hal’s moans get louder and his babbling gets more incoherent. Just listening to him makes Bruce throb in his jeans.
Hal’s hips push upwards again as he comes down Bruce’s throat. Bruce holds him down, swallows it all until Hal turns boneless. He pulls off with a rather obscene pop and looks up at Hal. There’s a stupid grin on his face.
“Come here,” Hal whispers, tugging Bruce upwards by the grip on his hair. Their kiss this time is lazier, slower. It still makes Bruce feel like he’s on fire.
Hal’s other hand trails to his jeans, opens them just enough to stick his hand down Bruce’s boxers. As soon as Hal has a hand wrapped around Bruce, he knows he’s not going to last long. It only takes a minute for stars to burst behind his eyelids, for white hot electricity to shoot through his lungs.
When he comes back down, he kicks his pants off the rest of the way and settles against Hal.
“Goddamn, baby,” Hal laughs. Bruce hums and traces patterns over Hal’s chest.
“Happy Birthday,” Bruce whispers, stretching upwards to place a kiss on Hal’s chin. Hal turns his head and kisses Bruce’s forehead.
“Happy Birthday, love.” 
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