#what do you have to be proud of through theft.

[pigeonwit]

fandom has become a contest of egos rather than an act of love towards the source material and its miserable and i hate it

[nerdpoe]

3 Fanon ideas to make a prompt from :)

1). Ectoplasm is Lazarus Water but purified

2). Ghosts can retreat to their cores

3). Protocore Jason AU

Danny has to retreat into his core, Jason somehow finds him and absorbs it. It looks like Jason is pregnant as his own ecto is being purified and then given to Danny's Core.

Enjoy:)

This is a full prompt, though? Okay I'll write mpreg. Gonna bypass that "looks" and make it an "is" though, throwin in some reincarnation and trans Jay.

~~~~~~

Jason was doing one last round before he left for Gotham. Before he left to prove a point. To teach Bruce a lesson he'd never forget.

He wasn't sentimental, no, he was just checking to make sure he wasn't forgetting any sickass weapons that may have fallen behind a dresser or something.

"Todd," a small, imperious voice demanded from behind him. "Observe my new pet rock."

Jason sighed and stood up to humor the little demon.

The kid was holding a weird glowing, cracked orb. It was radiating frost, and Damian had to use cloth between his hands and the magic stone.

"Damian," Jason started, keeping his voice level. "Where did you get that?"

The kid sniffed with all the superiority of a spoiled brat, looking proud and holding the obviously enchanted stone higher.

"Since Grandfather and Mother say that animals as pets would be a weakness, I decided to search the lesser treasure room for a suitable inanimate pet."

Jason sucked in air through his teeth in a soft hiss. There was no "lesser" treasure room; there was the "safe" treasure and the "unknown" treasure. Where was Talia when he needed her?

"Look, kid, I don't think-" Jason started, reaching for the weird rock, just as Damian started pulling away.

"-You are jealous that I have this rock and you do not-"

"-Damian, please, just hand over the fucking-"

"-Cease your attempted theft this instant-"

"-Damian come here you little shit-"

Jason tripped. Damian tripped. The weird rock went into the air...and landed on Jason's chest. It melted into him with a sharp flash of pain.

And that was that.

Damian stared at Jason's stomach, aghast.

"You stole my rock!"

By the time Talia arrived to see what was keeping Jason so long, he and Damian were rolling on the ground biting each other.

~~~~~~

Months later, Jason was beyond ready to murder the newest Robin. He'd originally planned to just beat the shit out of the kid, but he'd been having a rough time.

He was losing his carefully crafted abs.

He was getting soft.

Normally that was whatever, but he was trying to be intimidating, and being soft in any way was definitely going to trigger the dysphoria he thought he'd outrun.

It made no sense; he worked out daily, had started eating on a caloric deficit, drank nothing but water, and made sure what he ate was home-cooked.

Then, one month before go-time with Timmy, he'd started getting nauseous.

He felt bloated, tired, hungry, and most of all; pissed.

As he stalked through the Tower that the newest Robin was hiding in, he may have, perhaps, let the millions of small annoyances pile into one big rage filled pity party with a kid as the target.

It really didn't help that he hadn't been able to don his replica of his own Robin costume, because he...he had pudge. He didn't fit in it.

It was infuriating.

He knew it wasn't little TimTams fault, but he was gonna take his rage out on someone, and the kid was the unfortunate closest person he had beef with.

Was he overreacting? Probably.

But it was lash out or cry, and he refused to cry.

On top of everything, the one thing that had helped with any of the symptoms, the extra purified Lazarus Water that Talia had given him to 'act as an emergency first aide', was gone. He'd drank it all.

With that supply out, he was.

Well.

He was going to kill little Timmy, fuck the consequences.

But little Timmy was...doing a very good job of staying completely out of sight. The kid had been acting far more neurotic than he normally did, only letting out a small gasp when he'd seen Red Hood and immediately darted into some sort of weird hidey hole.

Jason hadn't been able to find him since.

The kid had added his own gopher network to the Tower, fuck.

The speaker system crackled on, just as Jason was about to start laying down bombs.

"Red Hood, please consider your condition. Do not do anything that would raise your blood pressure, or uh..." the newest Robin's voice trailed off, keyboard audibly clacking as he looked something up. "...Or eat peas? No, that can't be right. Whatever, look, just stay calm, take a breather, and don't overstress yourself. It's not good for the uh. The second...yeah. Not good. Do not do. Why am I so dumb sounding when it comes to things like this? Shoulda gotten Steph..."

The kids voice trailed off as he berated himself, but Jason was too busy fighting off the horribly dawning realization of what the kid was saying.

Which couldn't be true, because there was no way for the kid to know, and Jason hadn't had sex in...well. Years.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jason gasped, thanking his past self for putting the vocoder in his helmet. It sounded far more threatening.

"Oh. Uh. During one of your fights with Batman, you got glanced by something sharp, and there was a little blood. Don't worry though! I didn't tell Batman! I just wanted to see if I could figure it out on my own! So I ran your blood and now I...know. That was actually probably like, really invasive. Sorry Jason."

Jason knew the fight the little Bird was talking about. He'd had a random wave of vertigo, barely dodged a batarang. He'd had to do his own stitches afterwards.

"...You know? Know what?"

"Okay, I should clarify. I didn't tell Batman, but I kinda needed help scrubbing everything, so I had to ask Oracle to help, so she knows, and she couldn't keep it from Nightwing, because he's felt super guilty about how he treated you, but Batman definitely does not know."

Jason sat down on the nearest chair, feeling like the wind had been ripped from his sails. He took the helmet off and dropped in on the ground in favor of running a hand through his hair.

"How can you be sure B doesn't know it's me?" He rasped, staring at nothing.

"Because can you imagine he'd leave you alone for a second if he knew you were alive, much less up the duff?"

Jason had nothing to say to that. Either Ra's had been up to some fucked up experiments while he'd been asleep, or he was the victim of miraculous conception.

The newest Robin was rambling over the speakers, but Jason ignored him and held his head in his hands. The glowing orb flashed through his mind, and Jason didn't even have the energy to curse Damian for doing stupid kid shit.

He was just thankful that the kid hadn't been a viable host.

"Tim, shut up. Do you have an ultrasound machine here?" Jason interrupted, steeling himself. He was an adult sort of, one year before it was technically true, and he could freak out later.

It was time to do adult things.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Why? Has your gyno not done one yet?"

"Don't have one, didn't know. Where is it?"

"...I probably should have broken that news to you like, way softer."

~~~~~~

Jason was...pulling back. His criminal empire was still growing strong, and he was making a shit ton of money from it, but he was pulling back from actively provoking Batman.

As much as he wanted B to be the one to kill the Joker, he knew that the older man probably wouldn't do that, and Jason wasn't going to risk getting anywhere near that maniac while he was pregnant.

Batman had certainly noticed the change in behavior, but whenever he tried to intrude into Crime Alley, Nightwing or Robin would intercept him.

Jason.

Jason wasn't sure what he wanted to do about Bruce.

Dick was slowly earning forgiveness for his pas actions, piece by piece. Tim was surprisingly good at being supportive, and Jason's hatred for him was starting to wear away to the realization that this was just a kid.

Oracle, whoever she was, had apparently designed the best security system in the world and quietly renovated an apartment into a safehouse, just for him.

He hated the charity, but it was better than what he could make at the moment with how many enemies he'd gained.

As the months passed by, he found himself hiding away in the gifted apartment more and more.

The dysphoria was...bad.

There were no more mirrors in the apartment.

The kid, which the ultrasound confirmed they were, was a small one, thank fuck. His belly had popped out, true to most pregnancies, but it was relatively contained.

It was still enough to make a horrible sense of wrongness almost knock him off his feet every time he looked down.

He was, essentially, useless.

If it wasn't for the trio of well-meaning extended family (maybe? he had his suspicions about Oracle), he probably would have just laid down on the floor of his apartment and not gotten up.

Tim, surprisingly, had adopted some stupid Alvin Draper alias and was running his crime network in his stead. He was doing a concerningly good job, actually, and Jason and Dick had exchanged more than one worried glance over the kid's head.

Dick had moved in, citing that Bruce was getting suspicious and it was easier to pretend that he'd moved back to Gotham than it was to continually make up excuses. In reality, he was making sure Jason didn't lay down and rot, keeping him active and healthy.

Jason was...trying. He was trying. But between needing to stop HRT and the changes and his fucking voice and just. Everything. All of it.

He hated it.

But he still wasn't sure what he wanted to do with the kid.

Dick and Tim had set up a nursery, just in case. Dick had also surreptitiously reached out to the Kents, also just in case. There was no judgement. If he decided to keep the kid or give it away, it would be well taken care of.

That should have been a weight off his shoulders.

But instead, he felt like he was getting worse.

He was so, so fucking tired. He was starving but he couldn't stomach the food Dickwing put in front of him. He had worked so hard to build his criminal empire, but when Tim tried to tell him about it he couldn't focus long enough understand what was being said. He knew that they were getting more and more concerned, and when he woke up one morning and vomited straight Lazarus Water, Tim snapped.

"I'm calling B."

"Tim, no, we can-"

"-No, Dick, we need to figure out what's going on! This isn't something Leslie can handle, we need Bruce!"

Maybe it was just something buried deep inside Jason, but he agreed. He wanted his dad, not a doctor. He didn't care about Tim's reasoning, he just. He agreed. He wanted Bruce.

"Do it," Jason rasped from the floor, leaning into the cold tile. "Get B."

~~~~~~

Jason was still on the bathroom floor when a set of far, far heavier footsteps paused at the doorway.

The wood from the doorframe creaked as whoever it was tightened their grip on it.

Their breathing stuttered. They swallowed.

The footsteps continued, and they knelt next to Jason, wordlessly running their fingers through his hair.

"Hey Jaylad," Bruce whispered, voice tight and controlled even as his hand shook. "Looks like you've got a bit of a situation. Wanna tell me what happened?"

"Got knocked up by a magic rock," Jason muttered, thoroughly enjoying the hand in his hair. "But it ain't going right, and I'm tired and hungry all the time, and I'm throwing up the Lazarus Pits."

"The magic rock info is new," he heard Tim mutter from the hall, right before he was forcibly shushed by Dick.

"Did you have any weird cravings? Any symptoms that don't normally match a pregnancy?" Bruce asked, keeping his voice calm and controlled even as he lifted Jason from the floor and into his lap. "Should I get Constantine on the phone?"

Jason let it happen, turning to hide his face from the shitshow that had been his life for the past six months and shoving it into Bruce's stupid fancy shirt.

"Had Lazarus water. Drank it. I'm hungry but I can't eat anything. I can hear the kid chirp sometimes."

"Like a bird? That's adora-"

"-Shut up Dick not now!"

"You shut up!"

"You...drank. Lazarus Water." Bruce repeated, voice stilted as he clearly started working through something in his head. "I....hm. Okay. I'm...I'm going to call Constantine." Jason couldn't help the snort at the clear distaste in Bruce's voice as he said that.

He expected Bruce to put him down and go get changed into his Batman kit.

He did not expect Bruce to adjust his hold, lean back onto the cabinets, and make the call then and there.

~~~~~~

Constantine was officially unofficially his doctor for the duration of his pregnancy.

That was not something that anyone wanted, Bruce especially.

Jason wanted to throw up and aim it at the Hellblazer, but he had a feeling the man had been covered in worse and would, at best, be unfazed.

At worst, tempted to just smear it on Jason to prove a point.

The Mage of the hour himself was hovering over Jason, eyes unfocused as his glowing hands rested on the despised baby bump.

Jason was laying on the couch, trying not to let the sound of Bruce's pacing drive him up a wall.

"That," Constantine started, head tilting as if he was listening to something. "That is a core. And a baby. And another core. Two Ghost Cores, two bodies. If you're meetin' the needs of the physical, and you're still havin' issues, prolly need to see to the spritual, love."

"Don't call him love," Bruce warned, pausing his pacing long enough to glare at the Mage.

Constantine didn't bother to acknowledge him.

"Don't suppose you've got any spare Lazarus Water lying around, eh?" The man asked instead, eyes refocusing as he removed his hands from Jason's person.

Jason shook his head, but Tim nodded his.

Everyone stared at Tim.

Tim shrugged.

"What? It's under the city. Not like anyone will miss it if we take some."

"How. Tim, how do you know that?" Dick asked, sounding a little scared.

"Because I found it? I tried throwing dead rats in it but it doesn't work on rats, so I tried larger dead animals that had gotten down there-"

"-B you've raised Dr. Frankenstein," Jason groaned, covering his eyes from the realities of a mad scientist little brother.

"But I'm not an undead being stitched together?" Tim asked.

"You uncultured swine," Jason snarled, practically throwing himself into a sitting position and was quickly met with Constantine trying to wrangle him back down. "It's common fucking knowledge that Frankenstein was the doctor, not the monster, and if you paid any attention in English class-"

"-I'm gonna go get Lazarus Water okay bye!" Tim shouted, bolting for the door.

~~~~~~

Jason drank his fifth juice pack of Lazarus Water, finally starting to feel like himself again, and stared at Bruce.

Bruce, to his credit, was clearly trying very hard not to stare back.

Jason imagined this was rather hard, given that he couldn't stop fucking purring. Apparently, that was a Thing that his body could and would do, according to his unofficial doctor.

Dick and Tim were helping Constantine put the Lazarus Water into the juice packets, all of them desperately pretending that they weren't there at all and trying to be as quiet as possible.

"So, Hellblazer. Nothing to say about the Big Bad Batman?" Jason asked, eyes never leaving said man.

"Not particularly any of my business, mate. I don't really care one way or another."

Bruce actually looked a little put out at that, much to Jason's satisfaction.

"I imagine you have questions," Jason sighed, finishing off his juice pack.

Bruce finally turned to look at him head on, gaze steady.

"They can wait. Do you have any plans for...this?" Bruce didn't motion towards Jason's stomach, but he didn't have to.

"...Maybe. I don't even really know what this is." Jason muttered, sinking further into his chair.

"I told you, love, it's a baby. With a ghost core. It was probably an adult ghost, at one point, but if it was cracked near as bad as you say, it was either reincarnate or disappear." Constantine shrugged, taping another stupid tiny straw to another juice box and moving to repeat the action. "Either way, since it's reincarnation, the baby ain't gonna know tit from tat. 'S just a baby."

That. Damn. If he'd been faced with the same choice, he probably would have done the same thing.

"You keep saying that. What does a ghost core do when it's in a human?" Bruce asked, knuckles white on the couch's armrest.

"Dunno, haven't seen it before. Heard of it, though. Just makes the person powerful, but now sure how much. Flight is definitely gonna be there, though, so I'd ask supes for some pointers." Constantine answered without really answering, true to form for him.

Jason heaved himself up and waved everyone off as they started to get to their own feet to help him. "I'm gonna take a nap. Snipe at each other in here and don't fucking bother me."

~~~~~~

Jason was disgusting.

Alfred and Bruce and everyone else assured him he wasn't, but he absolutely was.

It was so bad he'd gone ahead and, without informing anybody, arranged for an induced labor at Gotham General as soon as he could.

He didn't want to deal with Dick getting scared and frantic, or Tim overplanning and having a mental breakdown, or Bruce's rigid shoulders as he both tried to apologize and do something stupid like take over from the actual doctor.

Alfred would probably be composed, but if Alfred acted a little off then they'd know.

Hell, Jason had started getting some Braxdon hicks contractions and he swore he watched Bruce's hair grey in real time.

So at the eight and a half month mark, Jason lied to everyone and told them he was going to another safehouse to get away from their coddling.

He ignored their objections and reached for the keys to his car-

-and pissed himself.

Or, it felt like he did.

The apartment went dead silent as everyone looked down.

Then the contractions really hit.

~~~~~~

Bruce actually did try to take over the maternity ward and do the doctors jobs.

Jason was delighted to have an excuse to kick him out.

He couldn't force the man to avenge his murder, but he could make him wait in the waiting room like the rest of the peasants.

Alfred he allowed to stay, though.

~~~~~~

Jason still hadn't decided what to do with the kid.

He didn't know if he was gonna send them off to a farm or if he was gonna keep them.

So he let himself hold them, to see if any of the disgust he'd felt during the pregnancy had been directed at the kid or if it was all just him hating how he looked.

The little bean of a child, eyes bluer than his own, proceeded to free one arm to pull on Jason's bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

Ah.

Nah, the hatred had been towards how he looked.

This one was his, the Kents could get visitation rights.

[presidentlokis-hornyhelmet]

A Purr-fect Distraction

Part 2 >> 🕸MASTERLIST🕸

Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar x black cat!Fem!Reader Summary: Pavitr aka Spider-Man is swinging through the dark streets of Mumbattan with his ✨amazing hair✨ when a thief in a catsuit catches his eye. Tags: Attempted Theft, Horrible cat puns, distraction, pav being cutesy, complimenting his hair is pavitr's weakness XD

Also Read on AO3

🎶🎵Do you wanna play a game, Do you Gotta catch me if you can, Catch me if you can You can try, Maybe wanna stay Catch me if you can I'm a runaway🎶🎵 'Catch Me If You Can' by Alan Walker

Pavitr Prabhakar, aka the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, swings through the crowded streets of the never sleeping city, Mumbattan. The chilly midnight wind flows through his hair, curled locks moving like waves under the silver moonlight. 

He catches his reflection on a glass tower and takes a detour, leaning closer to inspect his beauty. "Hey, stud muffin!" he praises himself, making finger guns to his reflection. Pavitr runs his gloved fingers through his locks, revelling in being the proud owner of such amazing hair. 

It was at such a moment that he catches movement in one of the closed shops down the lane. A woman in a black catsuit and long white hair is moving the display glass, obviously trying to break in. 

"Halt, theif!" 

Pavitr at once springs into action, yelling as he swings over to the shop in less than a second and webs up her hands together.

_____

"Halloween come soon for you, miss?"

You startle at his voice, raising your arms when you realise they're stuck together by some sticky fluid. It is only then that Pavitr gets to see you clearly -well, except for the mask framing your eyes that hold him captive. 

Neither of you speak for a while, Spider-Man entranced and you confused. It was kinda insulting: a kid in a Diwali dress making you stand like an idiot in the middle of the road. 

"Wow, who are you!", he sighs dreamily and only seems to remember himself when you raise a brow. He clears his throat. "I meant, who're you?" 

"Don't know me? I'm the infamous Black Cat. I do petty crimes like theft, picking pockets and occasionally kneeing assholes in the crotch. Want a demo?" 

You throw your leg up to kick him but he's quick to grab it in a tight hold. 

"Curious profession", he says, words thick with sarcasm. 

"Nah, just a passion", you shrug, ripping off the webs easily and wiggle out your leg from his grip, swiftly climbing up the wall like a feline. 

"Hey, hey, I never said you could leave, kitty!" He tries to get you to stop by webbing you up once more, but you evade his shots easily. 

You smirk. "Amazing hair, by the way!" 

"Thanks", he blushes under the mask, rubbing his neck and you use the distraction to get away, "nothing much, just coconut oil, prayer, some gene- hey!" 

You lose him, but sadly not for long as he stands right next to you when you reach the top of the building. Dang it. You try you weasel your way out but he's blocking your path. 

"C'mon", he says, keeping a friendly warm hand on your shoulder, "I can see you have powers; use them to fight crime, be a hero." 

You smirk and tilt your head in amusement, "You say this to all your villains, Rangoli-face?" 

"FYI, I'm Spider-man. And you're not a villain, just a pretty theif." 

"I'll be no less pretty when I kick your ass."

Quick as a flash, you pounce on him with your claws but he dodges you. Thanks to spidey sense, Pavitr misses all of your swift hits, blocking your punches and throws. You're quick, but he's quicker. You jump high in the air aiming a kick to his face, but spidey spins his toy, tying you up to a pole easily. 

You struggle against the thick web solution. What the heck was this thing made of!? 

"Let. Me. Go! Unless you rather I scratch your face off, Mr. Gorgeous." 

It doesn't seem to have the desired effect, making you frown. He raises a brow, taking his spin-toy and begins to play with his webs. Is this dude for real?!

When it feels like he'll just stand there and watch, you sigh in exasperation. "Bro, why do you insist I change? I hardly know you." 

"Doesn't matter. Think about it, you could help me patrol the city; one more hand to prevent crime. I'm paw-sitive you'll make the purr-fect paw-tner", he chuckles at his own pun. 

The thought is amusing but you aren't in the mood. You are, after all, supposed to distract him from the real heist -which you've obviously succeeded. Your partners would be done by now. Maybe you'll take him up on his offer after you've split the fortune. 

You quit struggling and send him a sweet smile. "Hmm.. can't say I'm not tempted. Can you release me now, please?" 

Spider-Man sighs as he takes out a tiny blade and cuts through the web. You stumble out, feeling the blood rush to your leg as it wakes up after. Ow, that's horrible feeling. 

"So, is that a yes?", he asks, eyes big through the colourful mask. Aww, he looks like one of the Golu dolls up close! 

He freezes in place when you suprise him with a kiss to his cheek, the pleasant shock throwing off his spidey-sense. You kick him down while he's still dazed and get on the balcony, about to make your inevitable escape when he realises he's been tricked. 

You smirk, throwing him one last glance behind your shoulder. "Only if you catch me!" 

With that you jump off the building and disappear into the night, Pavitr finding no trace of you even though he follows right after. 

He smiles to himself, standing atop the highest tower of Mumbattan as he looks over the lively lit city.

"Oh, I will, kitty cat."

-----

Hope you enjoyed it! Reblogs and comments feed my fic dragon <3🐲 [pspspspsss Can you tell I googled Indian festivals?]

[echologname]

What's from God and what's not

From God

Holy - set apart from the world (which is cursed with sin) and anything that comes directly from God Himself

Love

Joy

Peace

Patience

Kindness

Goodness

Faithfullness

Gentleness

Self-control

Mercy, forgiveness and grace

Truth

And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Phil.4.8&version=NLT

Everything humans do in the Bible is not of their own power but God's which they receive the blessing to experience through FAITH. So, God is saying to keep our minds focused on Him because many beliefs or doubts start as thought and can work their way to the heart and spirit for better or worse.

What's not

Demonic - absence or lack of God's light and presence (think of how the sun provides warmth, light and life and as you get further away, space becomes cold, dark and inhospitable)

Anger/bitterness (holding a grudge)

Hatred

Sadness

Lonliness

Distress (fear)

Lies

Murder

Theft

Pride

Greed

Lust

Gluttony

For jealousy and selfishness are not God’s kind of wisdom. Such things are earthly, unspiritual, and demonic. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Jas.3.15&version=NLT

Demons are angels who've chosen to separate themselves from God, and the Bible is very strict about committing sin in your mind and heart like 1 John 3:15, "If you hate each other, you are murderers, and we know murderers do not have eternal life."

This is to warn others about merely doing something in your mind and heart with good or bad intentions. You can do anything for the goodness of God if you're acting in genuine honesty, humility, selflessness and empathy. But anything can be sinful if you're doing it in selfishness, callousness, or in the desire for malice, deceit and disorder (chaos).

The point is, ALWAYS check your thoughts and feelings.

And we destroy every proud thing that raises itself against the knowledge of God. We capture every thought and make it give up and obey Christ. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2Cor.10.5&version=ICB

This to help you be aware if you're being deceived or influenced by evil spirits and to make a strong, conscious effort to DENY them, and do what God says instead:

Give Him your fears and worries

Be joyful

Be loving

Find peace in Him

Let go of anger

Pray and praise constantly

It can be REALLY hard to do these things, but God promises to give you endurance if you trust in Him (Isiah 40:31) and strength if you ask for it.

I can do all things through Christ because he gives me strength. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Phil.4.13&version=ICB

[bg-brainrot]

Hugs for a Vampire (Astarion x GN!Reader) - Chapter 10: After a Love Test

Chapter 10: After a Love Test

Each chapter can be read as a standalone hug.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Rogue!Tav)

Genre: Fluffy, Filling in Canon

Rating: Teen

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Act 3, Canon-typical violence, insecurities, jealousy, clowns

WC: 1.8k words, 10/18 chapters

Summary: Set at the start of Act 3, time with a dyrad leads to some jealousy and some fluff.

Ao3 | [Hug9][Hug11] | Hugs for a Vampire Masterlist

Somehow, despite the tumult, despite the horrors of the Shadowlands, your group has stumbled into what can only be described as a fresh, new hell. Or as Karlach eagerly exclaimed, “The Circus!” While your companions are all as Baldurian as you are, only Karlach seemed truly excited to stumble upon the brightly-colored, boisterous affair. 

That being said, you’re a sucker for her big, puppy dog eyes, so the entire group files in past the security. You lie and say something about being a knife thrower– not hard to believe considering how you’re equipped– but the chortle from Astarion almost gives you away. It tells you all you need to know, but he whispers to you anyway, “You? A knife-thrower? You’d sooner throw your boot at an enemy.” He’s not wrong, and you’re annoyed at how well he knows you.

“Oh, hush,” you whisper back. “Or if they put us to work, I’ll throw my knives at you.” It doesn’t wipe the grin from his face, but he does let it go.

After some odd adventures with a Djinni, speaking to a rather funny little kobold, and knicking a few items from every stall and unsuspecting spectator, you are starting to find yourself having actual fun. Perhaps it’s the petty theft– your favorite– or more likely, the company. Every time you have a wicked little thought on what to steal, Astarion is right behind you, ready to act on it. Even Shadowheart, who is usually thoroughly fed up with your antics, cracks a smile when Astarion nabs the cheating Djinni’s ring. 

You begin to see why Karlach was so very excited to find a circus, and you give yourself to the atmosphere of the place. That’s why, when your group stumbles upon a dryad proclaiming to give love readings, you don’t shy away. In fact, when she declares that you’re in love in front of the group, your lover included, you don’t even blush.

Astarion stands proud at your admission, his head tilting up every so slightly. You can tell that he’s feeling quite pleased, so much so that when you ask him if he’d like to do the love test with you, he doesn’t hesitate.

The group, the circus fades away, an idyllic scene taking its place. A series of three questions pass, and with each answer, you take a step closer to your elven lover. Something about the picturesque scene fills you with a deep wish to run away together, find yourselves a secluded moment like this, away from even this dryad’s prying eyes. Astarion closes the gap between you, the test complete and your love thrumming– or whatever Zethino proclaimed. 

“How close you are, two hearts beating a perfect rhythm,” the dryad says, her tone melodic and lulling. “But I know the truth. Only one face holds your dreams each night. Close your eyes, sweetness, and she will come to you.”

What? you think to yourself. You turn toward Astarion who is looking at you, eyes widening ever so slightly in shock. There’s a pain to them that begins to surface, and you shake your head, trying to reassure him.

“Close your eyes,” Zethino repeats. You hesitate, you know you don’t love anyone else, but you were the one who suggested you did this little love test, so it’s up to you to play along. You close your eyes.

There are a few moments of silence, only the sounds of the circus coming through and you begin to wonder if she means to show you anything at all. You open your eyes to ask as much, only to be face-to-face with a grotesque, unnervingly familiar face: the woman from the mindflayer colony.

You recoil at her pale, unnatural visage, and make eye contact with Astarion, who is already reaching for a blade. The woman, Orin, doesn’t seem to be here to fight though. After posturing, not even allowing you to get a single word in, she dissipates into the air. For some reason, your first thought is born of a childish disappointment, was there ever any kind of love test?

The group is phased at this, naturally– she’s confirmed that she’s stalking you all, that she could be watching from any corner, wearing any face. So when you get back to enjoying what’s left of the circus, Astarion’s stormy expression and agitated twitches seem entirely warranted. 

You try not to let it get to you, but after a few minutes of this, you say to Karlach and Shadowheart, “You go on ahead, I want to check out this bard with Astarion. Maybe try pickpocketing some distracted audience members.” 

Karlach is already mostly over the whole shapeshifter thing, back into full on circus mode. “Say no more, soldier. Shadowheart, let’s go look at the animals!”

Once they turn the corner, you face Astarion. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what,” he says, looking down at his nails nonchalantly, steadfastly ignoring your searching eyes.

“You’re brooding,” you say, reaching out a hand for his. You wait a moment for him to accept it, and when he neither avoids it, nor accepts it, you gently grab a few of his fingers. “Is it Orin?”

His hand relents easily, and, as if moving on its own, intertwines his fingers with your own. “No,” he starts. “Well, kind of.” You wait patiently for him to sort out his thoughts, rubbing a thumb over one of his knuckles to the jaunty beat of the bard next to you.

After a bit, he says, “We’ve been entirely too open and trusting. Even if she wasn’t Orin, wouldn’t you say we were left too vulnerable there, dear.”

You try your best to keep your expression neutral. His concerns are valid, his fears coming from a very real place. But your stomach drops at the idea that this could shatter whatever safety he’s started to feel. “You’re not wrong, love,” you start, measuring your words carefully. “But we know how to handle ourselves. Even as Orin, I know we could take her.”

“You might be right, but that doesn’t mean we should be putting our lives into anyone’s hands but our own,” he scoffs, fingers clasping tightly over yours, as if these two pairs of hands are the only ones that you can trust. “Baldur’s Gate is more dangerous than anything the Shadowlands could throw at us because the dangers look so… mundane.”

“I know,” you say. “All I can say is that I care for you, Astarion. And no matter what the city throws at us, we’ll be together to face it. Just like the love test today.”

The vampire rolls his eyes at your words, but a smile finally creeps onto his face. “Ugh, you’re so utterly saccharine,” he responds. But, despite his words, his arms pull you into a big hug, enveloping you in a blanket of cool leather and his familiar scent. “That being said, if you ever want to do another love test, I'm going to have to squeeze you to death.”

You laugh into his shoulder and say, “Fine, fine. We’ll have to trust that our bond is unbreakable without a magical Master of Love telling us so.”

“Exactly, I don’t need some stranger to tell me what we already know.” He sounds confident, assured to start. But a moment later, his voice comes out as sulky when he follows up with. “It’s not like you have another, more handsome lover like she suggested, right?”

An odd response from him, especially with the petulant face and tone. And you don’t recall the dryad using the word ‘handsome.’ Is he… “Were you… jealous?” you ask, lifting your head up. You’re not teasing, just genuinely wondering if that small statement from an evil woman could elicit such a reaction from your love.

“I was not jealous,” Astarion responds, aghast. “What is there to be jealous of, that ridiculous shapeshifter? A fictional person laying in wait? A particularly muscular tiefling whose company you enjoy? I think not.”

His body betrays his words, his arms around you squeezing almost painfully tight as he talks. You haven’t seen true jealousy on him before, only the occasional moments of self-deprecation or worry, and something about it makes you want to go right back to teasing. “Oh, I don’t know. A shapeshifter could look like anyone, imagine all of the possibilities of a shapeshifting lover,” you say, an exaggerated tone of wistfulness in your voice.

In a wry tone, he responds, “There are scrolls for that.”

“I’m just kidding!” You nudge him playfully in the side. “I don’t actually want a shapeshifter, alright? You’re perfect the way that you are.” He preens a little at that and loosens his grip on you– You take the opportunity to slip out of his arms and look at him head-on. “Now tell me, did she bother you that much?”

“What do you want me to say?” He raises his arms in exasperation. “That when she said you had another love it felt like a troll had taken a club to my chest?”

“I like the imagery,” you remark, helpfully.

“Thank you,” he says, sighs, and continues, calmer now. “Some– very small– part of me was worried. I meant it when I said you deserve something real. You deserve more than real, and what if… what if that just isn’t something a runaway vampire spawn can offer?”

“My love,” you melt under his words, under his pleading red gaze, begging you to love him for who he is– as if you don’t already feel the weight of that love with every single breath you take. “You are so much more than you know. May I hug you?”

He nods, his expression pulling at each and every one of your heart strings. His eyes stay trained on you as you pull him back towards you. You bury your face in his neck and say, “I promise you have no one to be jealous of, I can confidently say no one compares.”

Astarion gives a shaky sigh. “I know. I am phenomenal.” 

You stifle a chuckle. “That you are.”

As is typical with an adventuring party like yours, these secluded moments are few and far between. A familiar booming voice crashes into your hug. “Look what I found!” Karlach exclaims. “Face paint, just like the clowns! Fangs, please tell me I can put some face paint on you.”

The vampire stiffens in your arms at the sound of that, but the wheels of mischief are already spinning in your head. “Karlach,” you say. “I think that might be the best idea you’ve ever had.”

“Oh, I know,” she responds, a few kits in hand. “But don’t think you’re escaping either soldier.”

You look at Astarion, mirroring the same panic on his face. Releasing him from your arms, you access the situation. “If we split up, she can’t catch us both.”

“After you, my dear,” he responds.

You turn, only to find Shadowheart waiting, a wicked grin on her face. “Oh no, you don’t. You’ve both had your fun today. Time for us to have ours.”

It’s not long before you and your lover match, sporting the garish colors of a painted clown. Normally, you’d hate this and, on the surface, you certainly still do. But deep down, you feel a lighthearted joy– you told Astarion you’d face anything together, you suppose the circus is no different.

[formosusiniquis]

In a turn of events surprising exactly no one among the group, it's Dustin's who starts the whole thing. He calls a formal party meeting, and an hour after the message goes out over the walkie Steve has a living room full of anxious freshman and Eddie Munson -- and him and Robin who are mostly there because the meeting had to be held at Steve's house for some reason.

Dustin's sense of dramatics have come to rival Eddie's, and he waits until they're all seated before he even bothers coming out from where he hid himself with a manilla folder under one arm and the only white sheet in Steve's house, that had definitely come from off of his parent's bed, under the other. He doesn't say a word as he throws the sheet over the entertainment center and comes back again wheeling in an overhead projector. Steve can still faintly make out O'Donnell written on the side. "I'm sure you're wondering why I've gathered you all here today," Dustin punctuated his sentence with the heavy click of the projector being switched on.

The fan doesn't drown out the screaming from the crowd.

"You made it sound like an emergency."

"How did you get that here?"

"How did you get it at all?"

"Please," Dustin interrupts, "save all questions for the end." From his manilla folder he slaps a pre-written laminate down on the light table. Projecting, enlarged for everyone to see, 'Why Lucien is secretly the big bad of the whole campaign: a presentation by Dustin Henderson."

"This is the lamest reason for petty theft ever." Eddie gripes. Clearly more upset than Henderson had actually figured the plot twist out, Steve remembers how proud of himself he'd been when he talked himself through it weeks ago.

"Did you help him do this?" Steve asks, afraid of the answer. 

"Obviously not, why would I spoil my own-"

"The projector, Eddie."

"I mean barely, I was more of a getaway driver. Really, if she wanted to keep her projector she shouldn't have moved it out into the hallway so they could wax the floors. I didn't know he was going to use it for evil."

Henderson clears his throat, a disgusting phlegmy hem-hem, "If you're going to talk through the presentation, you'll be asked to leave."

The attitude on the kid, really.

It becomes a thing after that. Steve already has the projector, it's not like he can bring it back to the highschool. What would he even say, 'Sorry about the confusion, my overhead projector looks just like this one.' When there's nothing good at Family Video to rent or it's raining too hard to use the pool, they'll all go to different corners of the house with a stack of ten laminate sheets, a wet erase marker, and a vague theme. Then they come back and share what they've come up with.

The group is incapable of not instigating some kind of competition, at the end of the night they'd fight and argue over whose presentation was best. Steve participated half the time, but more often than not let himself be talked into playing referee to make sure no one's feelings got too hurt. On those nights he'd add onto Robin's. His favorite: why star trek is better than star wars (with footnotes from Steve)

It's at least twice as gay, kirk and spock are basically alien married and uhura definitely had a thing for spock's wife. All star wars has is the robots and they're barely main characters.

Steve note: Spock's half-vulcan status can be looked at the same as being bi or genderqueer, not feeling like you belong right in either half of your identity cause you aren't enough of one or the other -- Luke is just a twink with a nice wardrobe.

The Party could argue about anything, but Steve wasn't exactly surprised when the young adults got in on the fun too. The projector didn't usually come out until they were all drunk or stoned enough to admit that they had been waiting all night to make their presentations. Unlike the kids who mostly treat the games like debate team: who's the most powerful fictional character, what's the best PC class, what character from star wars would survive the Upside Down (he thought Erica's presentation: why the my little ponies could take down tiamat but wouldn't because they're too civilized, was especially inspired). The older teens treated it more like an amped up game of truth or dare, making up things that someone else in the group should have to do and encouraging the rest of the group to join in too.

They started the night off with Argyle's "Why Steve should give me his secret brownie recipe" which turned out to be mostly about how good they would taste as weed brownies and Eddie and Jon were quick to join his side.

They go around like that advocating for bad decisions like consequences don't exist, like they could be kids again. Robin thinks they should get tattoos, Steve is easily swayed. Jon proposes a road trip back to California. Nancy says they should all move to Boston with her. Eddie thinks the core four should start a band. Steve waits for his turn.

Steve has had his pages written and waiting for days. He knows exactly how long it takes his friends every time they meet to get wasted enough to give in to the temptation to wheel out his contraband projector. Once Robin is finished shouting at Eddie about how they're the only ones with any musical gifts he takes his turn.

"Why Eddie Munson should go out with me: a presentation by Steve Harrington."

[ph4ngz]

PANTY SHOT! || SATORU GOJO

nonconsensual panty shots, pervert!Gojo, innocent fem!reader & Gojo are best friends, male masturbation, mentions of panty-theft…

Satoru Gojo is a sneaky bastard when he wants to be. It’s not like he really has to be like that around you, though.

Whether it be “accidentally” spilling things on your clothes, making you say dirty things, putting you in compromising positions… he doesn’t even have to try. One time he unintentionally did all three, deciding to take it up a notch after you started to realise your panties were missing.

“Oh god, I’m so wet!—” you yelped, unknowingly seductive.

So oblivious…

You and Satoru had absolutely drenched one another after a water pistol fight. He practically eye fucked you whilst you were busy taking off your shoes. His head tilted to the side once he saw your nipples clearly through your white t-shirt. Hard and begging for him to toy with.

Satoru followed the swish of your dampened mini skirt to the laundry room and slyly retrieved the smartphone sitting in his back pocket, opening the camera app.

“Jeez, Satoru!! I’m soaking because of you!” You accused him playfully as you searched for a dry towel.

“Sorry, sweets. I told you I was gonna win, shoulda' listened to the almighty Gojo.” He replied half-assedly and focused on the positioning of his phone. He hoped to catch you with your panties on show, knowing it was kinda hopeless.

Wishful thinking, he mused to himself. How perverse.

“Yeah, yeah whatever…”

Sighing, you shifted your weight to the tips of your toes and stretched your arms over your head. Satoru’s eyes lit up and his eyebrows raised in curiosity and shock. Wait what?

Of course. He must’ve placed the dry towels on the highest shelves, considering his height. Oh, this was perfect.

Satoru sauntered toward you with his phone positioned at his hip. He watched carefully before he snapped an array of pictures directly underneath your skirt.

Click, he imitated the sound in his head.

“U-Uh… Hey…”

Fuck! He was so proud of himself that he hadn’t realised that he was so close to you!

“You’re so- close…” you continued, dry towel limp in one hand.

Satoru looked down into your innocent eyes, then your full cheeks and finally, your lips. Your plumped, sweet, glossy lips. God, what he wanted to do with them. With you.

His thumb brushed the camera button by accident, the movement reminding him to subtly place his phone away.

Yours and his heavy breathing could’ve broken the heavy silence surrounding your bodies if the washing machine didn’t start up again.

|| || || ||

Finally, he could examine the photos he’d so expertly taken of you!

“Oh— Fffffffuck.” Satoru moaned into the screen, playfully squeezing the reddened tip of his cock.

His leg bounced with anticipation and excitement as he sat at the edge of his own bed, toying with himself to your exposed body.

Swiping along to the latest picture he took, he wasn’t expecting to find a wet patch in the centre of your panties. This was when you noticed how close he was to you, right?

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Satoru doubled over and trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. He hadn’t even noticed how much quicker he was jerking himself off. You were wet because of him. Truly, this time.

Shiny precum gathered and dripped everywhere the faster that he tugged on his painfully hard dick. THE Satoru Gojo was almost in tears.

Moans tried to spill but he was still biting down on his bottom lip, resulting in whiny “mmmmmngh!~” ’s.

Then your soaked shirt from earlier plagued his dirty mind, daring him to imagine how your nipples would get even harder if he had his mouth and fingers on them. How you would jolt and sob for him to stop making you throb and fuck you please!

Switching back to the panty shot, he could almost feel the tip of his nose pressing into your clothed pussy, nudging your swollen clit when he kisses over your tight hole.

He thought about squeezing, biting, slapping your asscheeks until they turned red raw, even slipping one of his long skilled fingers in when you’re not paying attention.

His top had found itself hooked up in his mouth by now, after he’d gotten precum all over it. He fucked into his huge hand over and fucking over…

“Hhhhhhhhuh- uh! Fuck fuck gonna cum gonna cum gonna cum-” he panicked, announcing to no one in particular.

Satoru moaned your name into the fabric of his shirt, clenching his watery eyes shut so a tear rolled down his flushed cheeks. His fat cock twitched as he came uncontrollably, whimpers and shaky breaths echoing.

Soon, he let himself fall backwards onto his bed. He was exhausted. Maybe he should text you? Yeah, he’ll text you.

Shakily, Satoru reached for his phone but stopped midway. Some of his cum had hit the screen, landing directly on the photo of your panties.

He laughed breathlessly.

[galacticgoldfishart]

Hello! I randomly found your blog through your most recent storyboarded animation and wanted to say

1.) ITS REALLY AWESOME!

2.) I want to know more about your rouge henchmen project, do you have anywhere where I can learn more about it? Like some kind of lore document?

3.) Have you ever made comics or are you purely an animator?

4.) I’m not anyone important/someone at some animation company or anything. Just a curious rando

Have a nice day!

1) Thanks!

2) for the henchmen/little hero project (working on a title still) so far just what I've posted here. I've been working on it off and on for the past 2 years and have only recently started thumbnailing and writing the frist couple chapters in earnest.

The current synopsis is: *ahem*

After centuries of the 6 heroes reincarnating, the sides of good and evil have grayed. A new cycle has began and the current leader of the heroes, a 5 year old named Orphie, has been taken by the Lord of Shadows. Abbald, a one-armed spearman with a complex past, objects to the theft of such a small child, especially one of legend, and seeks to unkidnap them. But bringing the child home and out of shadow country will not to be so easy.

It's silly and angsty and heartfelt, and what I've shown so far is only really scratching the surface. The plan is to make a webcomic but there's no set release date yet. So I guess stay tuned.

3) I'm a storyboard Artist by trade which I guest is a bit of both. I'd like to move more into comics (hence above) but so far I've only done some short funny internet comics on my blog and an unreleased (unfinished) first chapter to the magical girl series the storyboard is from. (this was from high-school and though I'm proud for doing it it doesn't hold to my current standards and will remain unreleased).

4) well thanks for the asks rando!

✌

[neonblessing]

4.

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT! ⚠️ Click here to read Neon Blessing from the beginning!

A rickety access stair off the side of the road led below street level, a rusted railing the only thing between her and a ten thousand foot drop into the churning sea of waste at the bottom of the Diluvian. Everywhere, banners hung from the grates and pipes, extolling the virtues of the god at the bottom of the stairs.

Shiv couldn’t read the Eldest Tongue, but Raz used to tell her what all the banners said: Prince of Birds, Father of Thieves, Bright-Eyed, Swift-Tongued, Dark-Winged, Clever-Handed, Purse-Cutting, Theft-Fed, Ever-Hungry, Ever-Proud, Ornarch. The same symbols on every banner, repeated a thousand times, more and more frequently, as candles began to crop up along the railings and the heady scent of incense suffused the misty air.

A magpie sat on a pipe that snaked out of the wall, looking down at Shiv. “Hail, brother. I bring an offering for our lord,” she said, waving the uneaten half of the tart. The magpie chattered at her mockingly, then flew off. Fifteen years she’d known Ornarch, and she still didn’t know if the birds could understand her.

A few hundred feet down the path, under one waterfall and over another, lay the entrance to Ornarch’s home. It was once a drainage pipe, but it had long since fallen into disrepair, now the domain of rats, birds, and the god of the gutter. She hesitated a moment outside the pipe.

“Come in, Shiv.” His voice sounded frail, but was clearly audible over the roar of the water. She stepped inside, and laid eyes on her god.

Ornarch looked like shit. He’d aged twenty years in the month since Shiv had last seen him. His once-ageless face was carved through with lines, his raven-black hair faded to a dull grey. His threadbare black suit couldn’t have gotten any more dilapidated, but the wings that swept from his back looked tattered and mangy. Even his gilded earrings had tarnished. Only his eyes were completely unchanged: hollow voids that expanded as Shiv met his gaze, wider and wider, deeper and deeper, until points of light shone through an infinite expanse of nothing, and nothing else was real. Shiv had never seen the night sky anywhere but those eyes.

In contrast to his wretched appearance, his home was more or less unchanged since last she’d seen it. The pipe in which Ornarch held court was easily thirty feet in diameter, its curved floor dotted with the melted-down corpses of innumerable tallow candles. Censers dangled from the ceiling at regular intervals, smoke transmuting the industrial lighting into something soft and warm. A thousand black birds stared down at her with beady eyes.

God clung to a wheeled IV drip like a drowning man to a board. How he’d gotten it down here, she had no idea, and as far as she knew mortal medical technology did nothing for gods. The bag glistened red in the dim light of the drainage pipe, a line of crimson curving down and disappearing under a shirtsleeve.

“I brought breakfast.” She once again pulled the pastry from her pocket.

“Put it on the altar with the rest.” Ornarch’s altar was a flat stone carved with circling birds, piled high with worthless trinkets and stolen treasures in equal measure. Every god was fed by sacrifice, and Ornarch demanded a cut of his congregation's pilfered goods. She gingerly placed the tart atop a wallet and a jeweled locket.

“It’s been a while.” His lips didn’t really move as he talked. Shiv had seen him open his mouth all the way, had seen that cruel beak that jutted from the back of his throat.

“Yeah.” Unspoken, the fact that she’d lost her arm on a job he’d sent her on. The job she’d failed. A month of recovery, the burning pain of the blade parting her flesh, all for nothing.

“You haven’t been answering your phone.”

“I lost it.” Some time in the panicked escape from the botched job, it had slipped from her pocket.

Ornarch’s thin lips curved into a frown. “Well that simply won’t do.” He patted his pockets before procuring a thin box from nowhere. “The newest Obol model. Top of the line. Trackers removed.” He offered it to Shiv.

She hesitated.

First Page – Previous Page – Next Page

[repairgirl]

19. i love you in a song pt. 1

word count: 2.0k

t/w: stalling. the biggest buildup to the main event ever

You rested your head against the window of Piper’s cherry red Jeep (Beatrice, if you so please), reminiscing on the last time you all were squished like this— the ride to the summer kickoff party, back in June. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

You thought about how much had changed since then: your growing friendship with the girls, now stronger than ever, the big brother role Percy had taken on, your sense of worth, and most significantly, your relationship with Leo. The vibes in the Jeep were good, the sunroof was open and beams of light shone on you and the others, almost as if Apollo was saying one last goodbye before summer ended and he shone a little less. The breeze made you feel okay, and a sense of satisfaction washed over you. All things considered, the summer was a fun and notable one, and you were grateful for your friends who made it that way. You smiled to yourself, not thinking anyone would see. 

Naturally, Leo elbowed you in the side, a stupid smirk on his face. 

“Ow,” you groaned. “What the hell was that for?”

“You were smiling too much. Had to switch it up a little,” he replied, seemingly proud of his genius idea. 

“Charming as always, Valdez,” you clapped back. “If you had asked, you’d know I actually was smiling because I was just thinking about this summer, how it’s coming to an end, and how grateful I am for all of you.”

“Aww, you really do love and care for us,” Percy chided in a mocking tone. 

“Of course she does. Don’t get a big head about it, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth added on, before looking to you and smiling warmly. “And we’re just as grateful for you, Y/N.”

Nico made a gagging noise from the backseats where he was cramped next to Will. “I might projectile vomit before we have a chance to even make it there due to all this love in the air.” 

Will put his hands up in defense. “If you do, get it as far away from me as possible. I’m off duty until August 27th, 2023.”

“Move-in day,” Nico groaned. “Don’t remind me.” 

“Married couple, shut up,” Piper said, pulling into a driveway. “We’re here.”

She parked the Jeep in the parking lot of a beautiful two-story oceanfront vacation home, complete with mermaid and ocean decorations on the sides. In the backyard was a pool, and just through the fence surrounding it was the sand that led to the ocean. To say you were in awe would be an understatement. 

“Wow, Pipes, how’d we snag this?” Leo asked. 

Piper turned to him, her eyes sparkling. “I have my ways.”

“I do not condone theft, I do not condone theft,” Frank repeated to himself, covering his eyes. 

“Unless it’s Piper,” Hazel chimed in, giggling. 

Frank sighed in defeat, and everyone burst into laughter. 

You, among the others, grabbed your suitcase from the trunk and lugged them inside. Leo trailed behind you like a dog, seemingly as happy as you were that you two were on good enough terms to share a room. Upon unlocking the door, everyone plopped their bags in the entryway and found the nearest couch or chair to slump on from being cramped during the two-hour car ride. 

“Before we get comfortable,” Annabeth chided. “Who’s rooms are who’s? So we can start unpacking our stuff.”

Percy tugged her sleeve. “Just sit down for a minute and turn off your brain, Beth. I’m gonna…” he started, followed by loud snoring. 

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Aaand, there he goes. I’ll get his bags.” 

“Perfect, because you two are on the ground floor,” Piper stated. “Down the hallway on the left, along with Leo and YN, whose bedroom is sandwiched between yours and Percy’s and mine and Jason's,” she finished hesitantly. “Nico and Will and Frank and Hazel, you two have the upstairs rooms. They’re exactly the same, so choose for yourself.” 

Everyone got up and shuffled to their respective rooms, except for Percy, who was dead asleep on the couch, acting like he hadn’t had a shred of rest in years. Which, in some sense, was true.

Leo grabbed your suitcase and bags, in addition to his, and started heading to your shared room. 

“Trying to win be back so soon, Valdez?” you chided. You pretended to be annoyed by this, but secretly you loved it. 

He winked at you, and your heart melted, but you ignored it. “You know it, boba girl.”

You were too busy daydreaming to realize that Leo had stopped dead in his tracks in the doorframe of your room, barely daring to make a move. 

“Um, Y/N, you might want to see this…”

Where there should have been a bunk bed was a singular king bed, soaking up the room in all its glory. 

You facepalmed, a million thoughts rushing through your head. “You have GOT to be kidding me.”

Piper giggled behind you, causing you to see her, Jason, and Annabeth, who had  witnessed the entire thing. 

“Piper McLean, I swear on the gods if you planned this—” you started, but she cut you off. 

“I didn’t, I promise!” she replied, frantically scrolling through her phone. “The host says the house was recently updated for each room to include a full king bed.” She smiled sheepishly. “Oops.” 

Jason then led Piper to their room, presumably to discuss their own sleeping arrangements. “We’ll give you two some time to talk. Knock if you need anything.” 

Annabeth reassuringly put her hand on your back, offering some words of encouragement herself. “I’m gonna go unpack, but I’m here if you need anything, okay? You’ve always got Percy and me.” 

You nodded weakly. “Okay, Beth. Love you.”

Soon enough, it was just you and Leo, who looked about as embarrassed as you felt. He started to ramble about whatever thoughts came to mind. 

“Listen Y/N, I know this is super weird, I mean, It’s not weird to me but it’s probably weird to you, I mean, if it’s weird for US that’s what I mean, and I can sleep on the couch, or the floor, or—” 

“Leo.”

“Hm?” 

“I think I need some space.” 

You shut the door in front of you, alone in the cold, empty room, feeling like you were the only person in the world. 

You slumped down the door, putting your head in your hands, not sure what emotion to begin to process first. And little did you know, on the other side of the wall, Leo was doing the same exact thing. 

++++

As you unpacked, not realizing just how many hours had gone by, a million thoughts plagued your mind, each seeming to be sorted into opposite categories. Part of you was excited at the prospect of sharing a bed with Leo, as your feelings were admittedly still there, and like all the wise people say, feelings for your first love never really do go away. But the other part was terrified and felt embarrassed, and kept reminding you that he didn’t like you back, or so he claimed that night at the party. You were just a friend in his eyes, and you felt like that’s all that you would ever be. This part of you felt so small, as small as you did when you confessed in the pool house. It made you want to cry. 

Just then, you heard a knock on your door and a familiar friendly voice. 

“Hey, Y/N?” Hazel asked. “You in there?” 

“Yeah, come in,” you called from the bed, where you were now slumped, sulking and staring at the wall. 

She walked over and sat next to you, putting her arm around you and making you feel a warmth you hadn’t felt since you got there. You fell into her embrace.

“How are you doing, love?”

“I’m okay. Could be better. Just thinking about—” you gestured vaguely, “—you know.” 

She nodded. “What’s going through your mind?” 

You sighed, getting ready to lay it down on her. “Everything. A part of me is excited, like maybe this could be the opportunity we’ve always needed, and that part of me is hoping that just one night together would fix everything and open his eyes for me, like we’re in some kind of reader insert fanfiction,” you chuckled dryly. “But the other part of me is so terrified. Terrified that I am and only ever will be a friend to him, and this whole thing makes him wildly uncomfortable. That he wants nothing to do with me, and all the little comments, flirtatious remarks, ways he looks at me when he thinks I can’t see, that all of it means nothing. 

And that part of me is so scared, and makes me feel so small, just like I felt at Piper’s, at her summer party, and then at his birthday party, and how I’ve felt time and time again. I just want some confirmation, some closure. That this isn’t all in my head. Or maybe, that it is. Either way, I’d just like to know. So I can feel content, and maybe even at peace before we all go to college, and start fresh, if need be.” 

You laughed to yourself. “And the last part of my brain is mocking me, because I’m probably just overthinking and he’ll end up sleeping on the couch anyway, and everything will be fine. And I did all of this worrying for absolutely no reason other than to make things harder for myself.” 

Hazel’s warm, golden eyes locked with yours, and you got the sense she truly understood.

“That’s a lot for one woman to carry,” she admitted. “And you’re definitely putting more stress on yourself than you need to. I think what you need to do is follow your heart, and trust your gut.”

“What do you mean?”

“Follow your heart. What has your heart wanted all along? If none of this happened, where would you be? And now that is has happened, do you feel the same or different than before?” she asked. “And to trust your gut, you must do what is right for you. Not for anyone else, not acting in a way that you think everyone expects you to. Make the decisions you make for no one but yourself, and if you feel something is right, go for it. You do only live once, after all.” 

You smiled, her words sinking into your skin and mending a few cracks on your heart. You buried her in a hug. 

“Thank you, Hazel. I needed that.” 

“Of course, babes. That’s what friends are for.” She started to gather herself, sensing that you already were doing much better. “You good if I go?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, feeling sure of yourself for the first time in a while. 

“Oh, and hey,” Hazel continued, “The girls and I are going to go for a walk on the boardwalk in about half an hour and do some exploring. care to join us?”

“Tempting, but I think I’m going to do some journaling and sort out all of these new emotions,” you replied. “I’ll definitely join everyone for dinner later, though.”

She smiled, closing the door behind her. “You better. I’ll leave you to it.” 

Hazel’s words had left you feeling like a new woman, and so you put on your favorite feel-good playlist and danced around the room before doing some light journaling. You wrote about everything, from the crush you’d had on Leo before Calypso entered his life to still having it even after she exited to the feelings you were sorting out now, and what exactly they meant. You filled six pages with words, doodles, and scribbles, letting anything that came into your head flow out naturally onto the paper. An hour later, you felt better than you ever had before. Every emotion you had been ignoring or neglecting or shutting down had now found a place on your journal paper, and you felt free to express your emotions without judgement of anyone else. 

Meanwhile, in Percy’s room, the guys were up to much different activities. 

yours truly || leo valdez x fem!reader smau

a/n: sorry to leave you all on a cliffhanger <3 and you know i had to do the classic there was only one bed but anyway!! part one of the long-awaited finale is here! part 2 coming at 12PM EST tomorrow!! 

masterlist < previous > next

leo taglist: @slytherindaughterofposeidon0 @persephil @mmmelanie-blog1 @blue-violin @goldengoddess @dee-zbignuts @animes-trash @nottherealslimshady @vermillioneyes @cellias​

yours truly taglist: @itsnottilly @katrin-okay @officialfictionalwreck @sunshineandshadowss @goldengoddess @dee-zbignuts @animes-trash @dont-get-upset @cellias @breadbrobin @haox @broadwayismydrug @burrito-fight @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @lilredpanda29 @marshmallow12435

[pico-digital-studios]

Into, Across and Beyond! Scripting: Peaceful Resolve

After LM!Sonic was safely apprehended, Carol went up to get her bike back from Fiona.

Carol: Next time, please do ask before taking my bike out of the blue, please.

Fiona: Yeah... I'm sorry, Carol...

Carol felt sorry for Fiona after all she went through.

Carol: Hey... I know I should be angry at you for the bike theft, but I can't bring myself to be. After what mister Dark Garfield down there did to you, it's not worth it.

Fiona: Yeah... I thought I'd never be treated with humane respect by him...

Carol: Yeah. He's just a mean, selfish jerk who thinks he can get his own way through an agenda. You're better than that, Fiona. I know you are. Even with all that organised crime you've been part of, I see faith that you can be a good person. Sonic must've thought so if he gave you a place here!

Fiona: You really think I can actually change for the better, even after all the heartless things I did?

Carol: For sure! ...Hey. Once red-eyes down there's been sent back, why don't we get some sushi together from the cafe? I'll pay for you, and I could bring Milla or Chiasa to hang out! How's that sound?

Fiona smiled to this offer.

Fiona: That... That'd be really lovely. Thank you, Carol.

Carol: No problemo!

Down below, some members of the Quill Society were present as LM!Sonic was being prepared to be sent off.

EV!Sonic: For absolute SHAME, LM. What you've been doing is really unforgivable, and I am not proud at all.

LEGO Sonic: Yeah, that's way past UNCOOL, dude! Nobody should be treated like they don't belong here!

EV!Sonic: You've breached a whole set of rules here, by abusing one of our own, trying to define fates, manipulating CR AND Mina into your act, AND citing THREE of my friends as anomalies!

Amy Rouge: Yeah! As a victim of abuse myself, that's seriously uncalled for!

EV!Sonic: As punishment for your misdeeds, LM, you are permanently forbidden from stepping foot in this dimension. If you try to come back, you'll be in even WORSE trouble. Now, how about actually cleaning up your mess instead of replacing another counterpart of yourself?!

Mobiverse Tails: Oh, and if you ever come across my world and dare to touch my friends or my Cream, I'll personally make a device that will erase you from existence.

Nicole: Time to send him off, for good.

Nicole set the Hub to send LM!Sonic back to his dimension.

Nicole: There.

GCD!Amy: What about the Tails we met? We know Trip's Amy came back, but not him.

Blitz!Tails stepped forward.

Blitz!Tails: I think I have a pretty good idea where he could be, so I'll save you guys the search party.

EV!Sonic: Great thought, Blitz! Good luck out there! Oh, and if OMT!Tails doesn't contact 'em first, Chris, let Mr. NM and Mini Sonic know that he's alright.

Nitro: You got it. Come on, Mina!

OMT!Mina: I'm coming. I only hope Tails will forgive me after... that.

[hunterwritesstuff]

Could I request Roguefort x reader who's the son of Almond Cookie? Like, Roguefort keeps going to places the reader is stationed to commit thefts so that they get to see him?

Of course!

It was yet another late night of work. You were tired and just barely staying awake thanks to the coffee you picked up. You got stationed at a museum somewhere because of the new gem section.

It had Roguefort's name written all over it. Gems, jewels, it was all they loved and more. Little did you know, you were the 'more' part of that list.

They laid on their stomach on a rooftop nearby, kicking their feet, their cat on their shoulder. "What do you think, Lord Crumbles III? Isn't he gorgeous?" "Mow." "Oh, hush, you. You can't tell me YOU haven't found a queen or molly you like." "..." "That's what I thought.

Roguefort kept staring at you, enamored by your appearance. Your suit, your eyes, your...everything...it was far more valuable than any jewel or diamond they could ever find.

You were just...stunning to them. "ahhh....if anyone were to put me in handcuffs, I'd want it to be him...~" Roguefort yelped as Lord Crumbles III smacked the back of their head. "I was kidding!!...mostly."

Finally, Roguefort put on a disguise and headed down. They walked past you, struggling to hold back the urge to hold your hand as they passed. YOU WERE RIGHT THERE. HOW COULD THEY NOT-"Wait a second, sir?"

They froze. Shit. Was their disguise not convincing enough?

"Is that a cat? I'm afraid only service animals are allowed in." You apologized.

"Ah! Of course! Sincerely sorry! I forgot his, uhm...vest!" Roguefort said, snapping a finger and putting a vest on Lord Crumbles.

"Ah, understood." You nodded.

"Have a good night!" Roguefort smiled. You smiled back. "You too. Enjoy the new exhibit!"

They nodded, going inside and immediately hiding in the bathroom. "He smiled at me, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, he...HE SMILED AT ME!!" Roguefort's face was a bright red. "I'M the one who's supposed to steal hearts! Not HIM!"

Crumbles 'mrrp'd at Roguefort's seeming jealousy. "Oh, hush, you! He's never smiled at me before! This is AMAZING!!" They giggled.

After a while, they cooled off, heading back out. Making their way through the museum, they went to go do what they were known for.

Everything was a blur for them, they never paid attention to what happened on their heists typically. This time was different. Typically, the police stopped following them as soon as they got up to the roof.

Y/N Cookie, though...they followed Roguefort up. This got their face to heat up even more. They were already out of their disguise, so they didn't have to worry about this being a case of mistaken identity.

You saw them for who they were. Or...Who they appeared to be. That was one of the most romantic things Roguefort could possibly think of. They flinched a moment as you pulled out a spare pair of Almond Cookie's cuffs from behind your back. "Oh, come now...not even going to ask me out to dinner first, beautiful~?" They teased.

You flushed bright red. This, in, turn, caused Roguefort to go even brighter red, as it put unwanted images in their head. Not because they didn't want to have them, but rather now was an inopportune time for them to come up.

"While I would l-love to stay and chat~" They walked up to you, tilting your chin up with their cane, giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I must now bid you Au revoir~!" They laughed, jumping off the side of the building, drifting off into the night.

You groaned, reporting that, yes, you lost them. Again. "Don't sweat it, son. They're slippery. You can just come on home." Almond sighed over the radio. "I'm proud of you for trying." You smiled at that, finally shutting it off and starting the walk home.

You trudged back to your apartment, feeling nothing but disappointment that you couldn't catch them AGAIN. You didn't understand why they kept coming specifically to YOU either.

You swore you felt something when they kissed your cheek, YOU SWEAR YOU DID, but you shook your head. You couldn't have. You couldn't have made it work.

Then you noticed something. They left you something in your pocket. A letter. "Dearest Y/N Cookie, if you're reading this, chances are that I've taken an interest in you. What kind, you can probably figure out on your own. Next time you see me, don't be afraid to say hello~ Dangerously yours, Roguefort 'Phantom Bleu' Cookie. ~♡"

As Roguefort landed in a dark alleyway somewhere, you remained in their thoughts. They touched you. They...they KISSED YOU. It caused their brain to go wild.

They rolled into their apartment through a window, depositing the night's spoils in their typical spot. Walking past walls with photos upon photos of you, Roguefort finally laid down on their bed with one thought in their mind.

"Y/N Cookie...I will find some way to make you mine."

Hope ya enjoy! This was a lot of fun! :D

[fearlessinger]

this may not be news to many of you bc I have not been able to shut up about it since I first finished the books but for the fast food enthusiasts who feel like a 50k essay might be too big of a commitment, in tonight’s edition of READ TOA, GUYS let me try to condense this into a shortest & simpler (& simplified! Nuance's definitely gonna be lost here) form… 

Basically, to characterize Apollo’s arc in TOA as a redemption is… incorrect.

Ok well no, I’ll admit, I did that for effect (gotcha tho, huh ;P), let me take it back immediately, it’s not incorrect bc 1) he himself does characterize it that way, and 2) Apollo did do some terrible, terrible stuff in the past and through the course of the story he takes responsibility, atones to the best of his ability, and vows to not repeat those mistakes anymore, all of which fits the definition of redemption to a tee. But the thing is… this isn’t his main character arc! It barely qualifies as an arc at all bc despite what Apollo tells us, Apollo starts out from the very beginning of THO already already feeling responsible, already willing to atone – with his own life, if necessary – already committed to not repeat past mistakes. All this character work… he’d already done it well before the rrverse begun. His actual character arc in TOA isn’t about realizing that he must do this, but about realizing that he CAN do it. That he HAS A RIGHT to do it, in fact. Because his life experience under his father’s rule had convinced him that correcting his mistakes was impossible, and that showing care toward people & forming connections with them would only end up in hurt, not just for Apollo but, even more crucially, for those people too. And that WAS the reality Apollo lived in before TOA, and still is the reality Apollo returns to live in after TOA. And that’s crucial to understand, because that’s the context we must keep in mind to interpret Apollo’s pre TOA choices & actions. He acts like he doesn’t care because caring about others makes them into easy targets of his enemies and family members, two categories that coincide more often than not. He’s an asshole to the demigods even as he actually helps them precisely to obfuscate the fact that he’s helping them. He presents himself as an unreliable, capricious figure to them because he quite literally can’t offer dependability to them. Because another thing he always knew, even though he lies about it like he does about everything else, was to give value to promises. SO he could not – he would not let himself promise help that he was not free to give in the first place. 

Except in TOA, suddenly, he is, because he's not a god, he’s not bound to the rules that tie the gods’ hands, that keep them tied to their Lord whose flighty benevolence they all depend on, anymore.

Because he has nothing left to give, finally he finds himself actually free to give it. Because he has nothing left to lose, finally he finds himself free to grab for stuff. To dare want and dream and hope and LOVE like he could never afford to before, except maybe… maybe one or both of those two times he'd been punished with mortality already, way back in the ancient days. 

"Remember what it means to be human," Jason tells him, and it has so much more meaning than Jason can realize. 

Apollo's actual arc in TOA is not one of redemption, even though he keeps telling us it is. It is one of self reclamation, both symbolically and literally, from the theft of agency & purpose & identity that he was victim of, that is a perfect representation of what abuse effectively does to a person, what abuse effectively had done to him. It is one of self actualization. It is one of learning to believe in his own heart, his own choices. To be proud of them, in fact. To see them validated in the way they inspire people's love and faith even when they are backed by no power at all. To discover that he was never alone after all. 

And despite what he keeps telling us, Apollo does know this. 

He recognizes Meg is abused because he sees himself in her, because he sees that her relationship with Nero mirrors his relationship with his own father. He is terrified that once Meg is reunited with Nero she’ll fall back into line like nothing has changed, let her stepfather make of her his obedient victim and trained killer once again, because he knows that HE might, when he’ll be faced with the same choice. Because why wouldn’t he? His problem was never an unwillingness to do better, it was that he effectively didn’t have a choice.

And yes, among his extremely limited options he didn’t always pick well. He did highly questionable things, and not all of them out of strict necessity. But the truth is there really wasn’t a GOOD option for him to pick at all. His was a lose/lose situation.

And now, at the end of the series, now that he’s back, it is once again, except – except for the part where Apollo has learned that he isn’t alone.

As crazy as it may sound, considering he started out the series proclaiming he expected everybody to do his dirty work for him, Apollo’s character arc was all about learning that he can lean on other people for support. That he has friends he can count on. That’s what the closing words of the pentalogy mean. They are not only a promise, but a request to the readers to believe in the best version of him, the most authentic version of him, the person we got to know, to discover, all through our journey together as he gradually opened up and let us see it. Gods are powered by belief, and “call on me” means “have faith that I will come”. It means “lend me your strength, so I can lend you mine in return”.

[abimess]

Legends of Order and Chaos - Part 5

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Masterlist | Get notified of my next stories

Chapter Summary: Things are getting increasingly better between you and Wanda. In the meantime, you make a discovery that could change the fate of the multiverse forever.  [Series Summary]

Chapter warnings: minor theft, brief child abuse (physical maltreatment)

Word count: 5,734 || Pronouns: she/her

A/N -> texts in italics = other universes/dreams

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

Series Masterlist | Previews Part (Read on: Wattpad | AO3)

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

Part 5: The Breakthrough

You wake up the next morning with a head resting on your chest, and gentle fingers tracing patterns around your neck and collarbone. 

"Good morning." You murmur softly, sleep showing its characteristic signs in your voice, and the movement against your skin stops for a brief moment as Wanda moves so she can look at you. 

"Good morning." The redhead replies with a soft smile on her lips before closing the distance between you, and the smiles on both of your mouths remain there even after the kiss is over. 

"Did you sleep well?" You ask with interest, your hands caressing her back over her pajama blouse as Wanda rests one of hers on your chest to rest her chin on it. 

"Mhm," she murmurs in response, her green eyes locked on yours, "what about you?" When you hum an answer in equal agreement, the redhead smiles softly, snuggling into your chest once more.

"We should get up." You comment after a few minutes of silence, and Wanda mumbles in dissatisfaction in response, burying her face in your neck and making you giggle. 

"There's no making progress by staying in bed all day." You say humorously, drumming your fingers on her waist in an attempt to get her to get up. "We don't have to make progress all the time, you know." The redhead replies in the same tone, lifting her face from your neck so she can look at you. "Sometimes we can just relax."

You chuckle softly, nodding slowly at the argument. The truth is, you would agree with anything she says as long as she looks at you with that pretty face of hers, and she smiles at the same instant the thought crosses your mind. 

"I heard that." She lets you know, her tone teasing despite her rosy cheeks and tender gaze, and you narrow your eyes at her playfully. "Hmmm, that's a problem. You can't know you have this much power over me."

"And what you gonna do about it?" The witch asks, her eyebrows raised slightly in defiance. "The only possible course of action," you reply with a shrug, a smirk taking over your lips, "kiss you until you forget."

The redhead's giggle is muffled by your lips meeting hers, your tongue finding no resistance at all to meeting her own. Projecting your body forward, you reverse your positions, your mouths never disconnecting as you lie on top of her instead.

Wanda finds it rather unlikely that your plan will work, really. No matter how powerful your kisses are, she already was ready to tease you about your thought again. 

However, when your leg meets her center, the redhead sighs, and any and all thought goes completely lost inside her mind.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

"We went camping today." Wanda tells you excitedly as she walks into the kitchen, where you are preparing tea for the two of you, and you raise your eyes to her. 

Almost like a sacred activity, Wanda spends her mornings peeking into other universes, following the lives of her children even if only through the limitations of that spell. Watching without ever experiencing. 

But that was all she could have, and she needed to remind herself that she was grateful for at least those moments with them. And although she wanted to watch them all day every day, she policed herself to do so only at the times she stipulated, and you were proud to see her remaining grounded in her own reality. 

Still, those moments were without a shadow of a doubt one of Wanda's main sources of happiness, and you felt genuinely appreciative that she shared them with you every morning.

"Oh really?" you ask with interest, cutting the fruit to put them into the boiling water. "Mhm," The redhead says with a smile, sitting down on the stool opposite you, "you and Tommy built the fire while Billy and I set up the tent. We spent the whole night counting stars and eating junk food."

"Sounds like a good night to me." You comment with a smile on your lips, almost as big as her own. "It was amazing." The witch says softly, but her gaze falls from yours in the next instant and you can't help but notice the melancholy and pain on her countenance. 

Wanda soon pushes those feelings away, however, plastering another smile on her face and continuing to tell you the details of what your variants were doing in the world she had visited. 

You pay attention to everything she says attentively, and continue the conversation without commenting on what had just happened, figuring she didn't want to talk about it. 

But the woman's sad expression does not leave your mind at any time during the whole conversation, and remains there long after it is over.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

You begin to observe other universes as well after that day. Wanda is curious about the reason, but you say that it is part of your studies about the balance of the Cosmos and she doesn't insist. 

But the truth is that your plans were other, aiming to watch the variants of your children, just like Wanda. The difference, though, is that you were not looking for those who were living happy lives, like her. 

It takes a few days, but you finally find what you were searching for. However, it was not at all what you expected to find. 

In an abandoned building, two children hide, their breaths ragged and their expressions frightened. 

Stealing became part of the brothers' routine after they escaped from the hellish orphanage they were sent to after the death of their mothers. With no one else to count on, the twins became closer than ever, inseparable. 

This, however, turned out to be a problem on some occasions. 

Tommy was in charge of getting food for the two today, because Billy had already found a shelter for the night - it's amazing how the boy can practically feel those hiding places. 

But no matter how much the two had done it before, stealing was always risky, and Billy didn't want to let his twin do it alone. The problem is that Tommy is much faster than his brother - this was also one of the reasons why he was always in charge of taking care of the food. 

And Billy's company eventually led to the twins being chased and cornered by the convenience store owner after Tommy had picked up a mere package of cookies and a bottle of milk. 

It wasn't Billy's fault, of course, and even less did Tommy think that way. But the guilt still insisted on squeezing the other twin's heart, and the approaching footsteps of the angry salesman only made the feeling worse. 

"What do we do?" Billy whispers apprehensively, looking from one side to the other as if the solution to their problems were hidden in some corner of that rubble and dust-filled building. 

"We need to leave. When I count to three we run for the exit, okay?" Tommy suggests, and the other Maximoff nods vigorously in understanding, his heart pounding in his ears in anticipation. 

But the count never reached three, because the next instant the salesman walked through the door, his countenance twitching in hatred as his gaze rested on the two boys in the corner of the room. 

"There you are, you little brats. It's time someone taught you a lesson." He says through gritted teeth, rolling up the sleeves of his striped shirt, and the two brothers look around desperately in search of something to defend themselves with. But nothing in that room seems useful, just dirty rags and rotting materials. 

Tommy is the first to be caught by the tall man, screaming and struggling in a desperate attempt to free himself from him. But it is all in vain, and Billy watches as his brother is assaulted, completely frozen. 

The boy's heart beats hard in his ears, about to burst his rib cage. He just wanted that man to stay away from his brother, from both of them. That he would go away and leave them alone. 

In the next instant the dark room begins to glow in an intense blue light, and the terrified face of the salesman is the last thing Billy remembers before he blacks out.

"Y/n!" Wanda's voice sounds concerned next to you, and you blink a few times as your vision returns to normal. When the black dots fade, you realize you are no longer floating in the living room, as before, but on the floor, against the wall. How you ended up there, you wouldn't be able to tell.

"Y/n, are you okay?" The redhead asks again, her green eyes running all over your figure for any sign of discomfort or injury, but you nod slowly, forcing a smile to reassure her. "I am... I am, yeah. Sorry for the scare."

Wanda doesn't look the least bit convinced as she helps you up, eyeing you suspiciously. So you clear your throat, deciding to ask, "How did I get here?"

"I was hoping you would tell me." That's the answer she gives you as she crosses her arms, "I came running when I heard the noise. And when I arrived... Your eyes were glowing blue before you came back."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense..." You comment half airily, rubbing the back of your neck as flashes of that other universe run on repeat in your mind. Wanda watches you with concern. "What happened?"

"I don't know exactly..." You reply, choosing to omit your findings for now. The redhead doesn't seem happy with the vague answer, but you don't give her room to ask as you say, "I need to talk to Wong."

"Okay, let's go." Wanda says while nodding her head, and immediately opens a portal to Kamar Taj in front of you. 

The courtyard is empty, and from the time of day you figure it's not yet time for the apprentices' training. So you and the redhead walk side by side into the palace, greeting a few acquaintances on the way. 

The first familiar face you meet is in one of the Kamar Taj's socializing rooms, and you smile as you make your way to the girl, Wanda right beside you. 

"What's up, troublemaker?" You greet playfully, and America turns to the two of you with a broad smile of surprise and happiness at seeing you again. But then she takes note of the nickname by which you called her, and her expression shifts.

"Look, it was an accident..." The girl says in a mixture of apology and embarrassment, realizing that you were aware she enchanted a stick during training and it ended up hitting one of the Masters in the face. You smile softly.

"She knows," Wanda comments, a gentle smile as she tries to disguise her own amusement at the scene, and turns to you to slap your arm, "stop pestering the girl."

"I'm just messing with her!" You defend yourself with your hands raised, and then smile at Chavez tenderly, "I heard you are doing very well, kid. Soon you might even replace the Sorcerer Supreme."

America smiles shyly this time, pleased with the compliment, and you feel your heart warming once again for the girl. 

"Did I just arrive for the planning of a revolution?" Wong's voice sounds behind you the next moment, making the three of you turn to look at him.

You and Wanda bring your index finger to the front of your mouth at the same time, playfully asking for America to stay quiet, who laughs mischievously as she mimics the action. The man smiles amusedly at the scene before raising his eyes to you and the redhead.

"Y/n, Wanda. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?" He asks amiably and your relaxed posture falters for a brief second as you remember the reason for you being there. 

"I need to talk to you. It's urgent." You tell, and the Sorcerer Supreme's own countenance fails in concern. But he nods readily, and you turn to Wanda and Chavez to say, "I'll be right back."

The redhead shifts her weight between her feet, bothered that she would be left out of the conversation. But you smile tenderly at her, squeezing her hand before walking away, and she decides to trust that there's a plausible reason for you to be acting that way, and goes back to talking to America as you leave.

"How are things going, Wong?" You ask the Sorcerer Supreme, who brings his hands to behind his back as he answers. "Good. Quiet. Strange is here, by the way, he's in my office."

You hum in understanding, but then the man stops walking abruptly, looking at you with a questioning expression. "Can he be part of our conversation or should we go somewhere else?"

"No, it's okay for him to know. I just don't want Wanda to know for now." You reply, and your answer seems to make Wong even more curious. But he appears to leave his questions for the future, because in the next moment he's saying, "Of course, follow me."

The rest of the way to the Sorcerer Supreme's room is done in silence, and as soon as the heavy wooden doors open, a goateed figure looks at you from inside the room, smiling as his eyes rest on you.  

"Y/n!" Stephen says as he approaches, giving you a brief hug of greeting, and you smile as you reciprocate. "Hello, Doctor." Your choice of words makes the man chuckle slightly, his expression becoming curious soon after. "What brings you here?"

"An important matter." Your answer makes Strange's relaxed posture crumble immediately, nodding slowly in understanding. Wong takes advantage of the silence to guide you to some armchairs in the corner of the room. And, when you are properly seated, you begin to speak.  

"I have been studying my family in other universes. Without dreamwalking, of course." You add the second sentence humorously, and the two men let out short amused giggles. But neither of them says anything, curious about what you have to say. So you continue. 

"And I've seen it all. Me and Wanda living with the kids or without them, me or her alone with the kids after one of us died.... All possibilities." You tell, sighing softly. "But for the first time, I found the kids without either of us. And, oddly enough, the magic signature of one of them, Billy, is the strongest I've ever seen in my life." 

The information makes both men frown, exchanging curious glances before returning their eyes to you. "What kind of magic?" It is Strange who asks, and your answer makes the mood in the room grow even more uneasy. "Of a kind I've never seen before. Stronger than mine and Wanda's combined."

"Are you saying that Billy has both your magics in his body?" Wong questions, his eyes narrowed toward you in an expression of near disbelief, but you nod. "That's a strong theory."

"But that would mean...that's scientifically impossible." Stephen comments, confused, and you let out a soft chuckle. "Science doesn't work the same way in every universe, Stephen." You explain. "And even if it did, my magic and Wanda's magic are creative by nature, we wouldn't need biology."

The man with the goatee nods slowly as he digests your words, the thoughtful expression never leaving his face. But he says nothing after that, and Wong takes advantage of the silence to ask, "But what does that mean?"

"It means that lost in the multiverse is a boy with unparalleled magical abilities with no one to guide him." You reply, running your hands through your hair restlessly before continuing, "I know it's extremely risky to move people between universes. But I believe that leaving this boy alone without someone to teach him how to handle his abilities might be even riskier."

"You're not asking for permission, you clearly sound like someone who has already made up their mind." Strange says, but he doesn't sound harsh, just observant, so you smile. "I really am not. I just wanted the opinion of some friends."

Both men smile small smiles in understanding, nodding slowly. "I trust your judgment. If you think this is best, so be it." The Sorcerer Supreme says, to which Strange murmurs his agreement. "Not to mention that you will have the full support of Kamar Taj, you won't be alone."

You smile in appreciation at the two sorcerers, a huge weight leaving your shoulders. But not letting the silence last, Strange asks, "Does she know?"

"Not yet." You reply, "I want to be sure of my decision before I tell her. I also have to make sure she will be ready for it..." Your answer has the two men nodding in both understanding and agreement.

"Well, whatever you decide, let us know first, so we can help as best we can." Wong says, rising from the armchair, and you do the same as you smile, "I will, Sorcerer Supreme."

The man smiles amused at your humorous tone before saying, "Now, Y/n, if you'll excuse us, Stephen and I have a meeting with the Masters of the other Sanctums." 

"Of course, I don't want to disturb you." You assure, waving your hands in front of your body dismissively, and Wong lets out an almost incredulous laugh. "The Order Keeper never disturbs."

"Yeah, it's always a holy honor to have you around or whatever." Strange speaks in a mocking tone, earning a reproachful look from the other man in the room, but you just chuckle at the banter. 

And so the three of you are saying goodbye, and after leaving Wong's room together, the two men make their way to the meeting room, so you go looking for Wanda.

You find her in the same room where you left her, sitting on one of the couches while America talks excitedly about something you can't hear from that distance. But the redhead smiles lovingly at the scene, so you have a smile too as you approach them.

"Hello, ladies." You announce your arrival, and the two look at you with gentle smiles on their lips. "How was the conversation?" Wanda asks as she stands up, and you offer her a reassuring smile. "It was fine, nothing you need to worry about."

"Are you guys leaving already?" America's sad question sounds out before Wanda can question you further about the secrecy of the conversation, and you both bring your gazes to the girl on the couch.

"We are." You reply, your heart breaking at the scene of her shoulders slumping. "But," Wanda interjects, exchanging a brief glance with you before looking at the girl again, "how about you come with us tonight?"

"Movie night and pizza?" You add right away, and you and Wanda giggle as Chavez celebrates excitedly. In the next moment, however, a thought crosses her mind. "But wait, I don't know if Wong will let me, I have training tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it, America, it's just one day. Sometimes we can just relax." You quip reassuringly, and Wanda narrows her eyes amusedly at you. "Hmm I wonder where I've heard that before."

"Nowhere probably, I just made it up." You retort, pretending it wasn't exactly the argument she used to keep you in bed for a while longer the other day, and the redhead rolls her eyes, nudging your arm lightly and making you smile. 

"Okay, let me just get my stuff." America says with an ear-to-ear grin, getting up from the couch as well. "I'll help you." Wanda offers affectionately, and the girl nods in agreement. 

"In the meantime I'm gonna go tell Wong about our girls' night." You say humorously, and say goodbye to the other two as you go your respective ways. Before you turn down the hallway, you risk a glance back, smiling softly as you see the two of them holding hands as they return to their conversation. 

When everything is ready, Wanda conjures a portal to your home again. But this time, America goes through it with you.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

To your and Wanda's surprise, America is a little shy about being in your house for the first time after the events of a few months ago. 

But as time goes on and the two of you make her feel more at ease, the girl begins to return to her traditional behavior, eating anything you offer and talking like there's no tomorrow. 

"Alright, America, what pizza toppings do you want?" Wanda asks after you have spent almost an hour in the living room with the girl telling you about her day to day life at the Kamar Taj - as she had done several times before.

"Are you guys going to make them using magic?!" Chavez asks excitedly, her jaw dropping, and you and Wanda exchange amused glances before you reply, "I mean, that was the idea... But we can order it the traditional way if you want."

"No, no! That is so much cooler!" The girl hastens to say, nodding vigorously, and you and the redhead share a giggle at the girl's reaction, murmuring in understanding. 

In the next moment, America spends long minutes indecisive about which pizza to choose. And when you and Wanda assure her that she can choose all the toppings she wants, you both end up having to conjure eight different pizzas. 

To house all those boxes, you bewitch your coffee table so that it gets bigger. As a result, the piece of furniture ends up bumping into the bookcase in the corner of the room, and Wanda and America exchange giggles as you desperately try to save your bonsai trees from falling to the floor.

"Okay, what about the movie?" You ask when the plant pots are safely in their respective places, and it's Wanda's turn to widen her eyes in surprise. "We can conjure movies?!"

"Wanda," you say, smiling with amusement as you sit down next to America on the couch, the redhead on the girl's other side, "we can conjure anything."

"But what's the fun?" The witch retorts with her arms crossed. And when you raise your eyebrows in confusion, she lets out a chuckle. "You lose the whole process of sitting and complaining about the options until you pick a good one."

"Complaining?" You ask, your tone of voice and expression giving away your complete dumbfoundedness, and the redhead smiles amused. "Let me show you how it's done, you luddite sorceress."

"Go ahead, high tech witch." You retort, gesturing theatrically to the television, and Wanda chuckles before working her magic. America, who was watching everything in amusement, sketches a thoughtful countenance. 

"Is there a difference between witches and sorceresses?" The girl asks, switching her gaze between you and the redhead. "Go ahead, you're the teacher." The witch encourages with a nod of her head, and you chuckle softly as you settle down on the couch to get a better look at America.

"Well, generally speaking, witches are those who are born with the ability to manipulate magic," you explain as simply as you can, " sorcerers need to acquire that skill with practice and study."

"So she's better than you?" is Chavez's immediate reaction, pointing at Wanda with her thumb, and the redhead tries to hold back a giggle without much success. 

"We can let her believe that." You say, casting a playful glance at the witch, who returns the look before settling down on the couch more comfortably. "Come on now, before the pizza gets cold."

America takes the cue to grab a slice of pizza and take a big bite of it, and you smile before doing the same, exchanging warm glances with the redhead on the other side of the couch. 

You hadn't understood what the redhead meant at first, about the fun of 'complaining about the options'. But then the three of you start going through the catalog, commenting on each of the movies and series available and exchanging laughs. 

You and Wanda let America choose the movie, and it takes at least half an hour for her to do so. When she does, the girl decides on an animated movie that you don't know, but that has lively songs and funny characters. 

The three of you laugh, eat, and comment on the movie. Until you watch one more, and then another. The domestic atmosphere warms your heart completely, and you imagine that it's having the same effect on Wanda, because her eyes are sparkling every time you look at her. 

The movie marathon only ends when you notice that America has fallen asleep on the couch, and you and Wanda exchange smiles before making a silent agreement to turn off the TV. 

You busy yourself with taking the trash and dirty dishes to the kitchen, your magic helping you carry what you can't take in your hands. Meanwhile, the redhead is in the living room, turning off the television. 

"Babe, can you help me prepare a place for America to sleep?" Wanda asks in a whisper so as not to wake the girl, but you haven't heard a single thing after the first word has left her mouth.

"What did you call me?" you ask back in the same tone, and the redhead frowns in confusion. When she remembers what she said, however, her eyes widen in shock, her cheeks becoming increasingly red, and you smile silly. 

"Say that again." You request, moving closer to her, and a shy smile takes over Wanda's lips. "Babe." She repeats in a sweet tone, wrapping her arms around your neck when you are close enough, and you giggle happily, the moment warming your heart completely. 

"Yes, my love?" You reply, dragging in the term of endearment as you bring your hands to her waist, and the redhead giggles silly, rolling her eyes in false rebuke, and you are unable to stop the ear-to-ear grin that spreads across your lips. 

"We can't leave her on the couch." The witch says, signaling with a nod to the couch, and you bring your gaze to Chavez, sleeping peacefully on the couch, her mouth open as she snores lightly making you smile with amusement. 

You take one of your hands off Wanda's waist only to wiggle it in the air. The next instant the green energy slips from your fingers, the room quietly rearranges itself, a comfortable mattress appearing on the floor between the couch and the TV cabinet.

"What do you think?" You ask in a whisper, returning your hand to its original position on the redhead's waist, who smiles at the change in the living room before looking at you and saying in the same tone, "It's perfect."

Then you and Wanda get to the mission of laying America down on the mattress without waking her up - the hardest of all. But, working together, you manage, covering her with a blanket before you take silent steps toward the hallway that leads to the bedroom. 

There, you look at the girl one last time before turning off the lights. But before you proceed to the bedroom, Wanda makes a thoughtful expression. "Wait." She asks in a whisper, holding your hand so that you stop walking.

"We could've done this the whole time?" The redhead asks as you look at her, referring to the mattress in the living room and realizing that you didn't have to share a bed after all. When the realization comes to you as well, you smile. 

"I suppose so." You respond with a mischievous grin, and Wanda has one of her own as she rolls her eyes, shaking her head in playful disapproval. 

You then let out a giggle, wrapping an arm around her, and the redhead smiles some more, wrapping her arms around your waist as you head for the bedroom. 

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

"Alright, kids, be quiet okay?"

You, Billy and Tommy woke up before sunrise this morning. The reason: today is Wanda's birthday.

To celebrate the day of the woman who represents the entire world for the three of you, you decided to start with a delicious breakfast in bed. 

Preparing a meal with two six-year-olds was tricky enough, and it became even trickier when everything had to be done in silence.

But you managed, and now you and the twins walk silently up the stairs, a breakfast tray with all your wife's favorite foods in your hands while Billy and Tommy carry the cards and drawings they have made. 

In the bedroom, the three of you exchange contented glances as you see that the brunette was still sleeping peacefully, in the same position as she was when you got up about an hour ago. 

While the twins position themselves at each side of the bed beside Wanda, you carefully rest the tray on the bedside table next to her. When everything is ready, you exchange looks of confirmation with the boys.

"Happy birthday!" The three of you shout at the same instant, making Wanda open her eyes immediately. But the startle only lasts half a second, because the next instant she's sitting up on the mattress and giggling.

"Good morning, my loves! Thank you!" The brunette says as she hugs the twins tightly, exchanging a loving glance with you. "Mommy, look!" When the hug ends, the two boys point to the tray of coffee on the nightstand, and Wanda lets out a surprised exclamation.

"You guys made that for me?" She asks with cheerfulness, looking at you last, and you shrug as you smile, "The boys made it, I just helped."

"Yeah! We were the chefs, mama was just the assistant." Tommy explains and Billy nods in confirmation. "The assistant, huh?" Wanda asks you humorously.

The boys have always been very participatory and in the kitchen was no exception. But many things can go wrong with children in the kitchen, so you convinced the kids that the most important role was that of the chef, who just gave the orders, while the assistants prepared the food. 

This way you could let your children participate while not exposing them to any risk. Wanda, of course, had thought the idea was brilliant. 

You just shrug at your wife's question, who laughs amusedly before turning to the twins around her. "Well, then the chefs deserve kisses first." 

Billy and Tommy giggle as the brunette pepper their faces with kisses, you watching the scene with a happy smile on your face. A moment later she turns her attention back to you.

"Now the just assistant." Wanda announces, an amused tone as she repeats the term used by her children, and you giggle, watching her move closer until her lips meet yours. 

"Mommy, look! We made cards!" Billy calls out in the next instant, and the brunette lets out a giggle before breaking the kiss, looking with an exaggerated expression of surprise at the two children with paper envelopes in hand. "Really? I can't wait to read them!"

Then Wanda is reading the cards and looking at the drawings. Billy and Tommy comment on everything they have made, explaining what each thing is and what it means. 

And all the while the brunette pays full attention to what they have to say, but every now and then she directs her gaze to you, and you smile every time her eyes meet yours.

Unlike her dream, Wanda wakes up to an empty bed. She strains her ears to try and hear the sound of conversation between you and America, but all that reaches the redhead's ears is silence. 

Figuring that you're making breakfast while the girl is still asleep, Wanda changes out of her pajamas into a more suitable outfit to get through the day, heading straight for the bathroom to attend to her morning hygiene. 

With everything taken care of, the witch makes her way to the kitchen, but frowns in confusion at seeing no sign of you. Worse, looking into the living room, there is no sleeping America, not even the mattress she had taken up during the night. 

Feeling her heart beating faster in alarm, the redhead heads outside the house, hoping to find some sign of you or, optimistically, any of you. Luckily for her, she finds both of you. 

As she approaches with her hands in her coat pockets, Wanda sees you and America standing in front of a bush of red flowers that she doesn't recognize. As soon as you hear her coming, you turn to her with a smile.

"Look, the sleeping beauty is awake." You comment playfully, making the redhead smile, and announcing to Chavez her arrival as well, who smiles at the witch. "Good morning, Wanda."

"Good morning, dear." The redhead replies fondly, running her hand through the girl's hair, who smiles in appreciation before turning her attention back to the flowers. Wanda then looks at you curiously. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You were sleeping so peacefully, you even had a smile on your face." You answer with a loving grin that makes the redhead's cheeks warm a little, "I didn't have the heart to wake you."

"I had the most amazing dream." She tells you then, a mixed tone of nostalgia and happiness, and you smile back, nodding in understanding. "I'm happy to hear it."

"Hey, Wanda, Y/n is teaching me how to pick flowers! Without magic!" America tells her excitedly the next moment, and the redhead lets her attention fall from you to the girl.

"Is that so?" She asks in an excitement that matches Chavez's. When the child nods in confirmation, Wanda smiles fondly, "I'd love to learn too."

"Would you mind teaching her what I've taught you, America?" You suggest in the next instant, and the girl sketches an ear-to-ear grin of excitement, taking no time at all in explaining to Wanda the things you had taught her.

The three of you then spend the rest of the morning talking about flowers and having fun, and none of you want to think about the time when America will have to return to the Kamar Taj.

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

And this is it! Much more domestic, things are going very well for our characters, eh? I can't wait to share the rest with you! But tell me, what did you think? Comments and theories are always welcome!

Part 6

[evenfall-writes]

parched (eddie munson/reader)

tags and warnings: SMUT, established relationship, oral sex, cunnilingus, afab reader, pussy-drunk eddie munson, hair pulling, dirty talk, fingering, panty theft, roughness, semi public sex

word count: 3300

a/n: i am a slut for joseph quinn let it be known

premise: after a corroded coffin gig, eddie is always…parched. lucky you’re here to quench his thirst

“Alright, you sons of bitches, thank you for being such a great crowd.”

His voice was rough from strain as he spoke into the mic, the feedback screeching through the crowded room and cutting through the loud roaring of the applause. From the stage, he caught your eye in the middle of the crowd through his heavy fringe, and a cocky smile crossed his drenched face.

“We’ve been Corroded Coffin.” Eddie continued, sliding his hand up his guitar as he licked his lower lip, his breathing heavy. “We had a blast playing for you guys, and it looks like you had a blast listening. That’s all from us tonight.”

As the cheers and hollering died down and the early nighters began to ebb out of the bar, your boyfriend hopped off the stage, weaving his way through the remainders who stood finishing their drinks and chatting to the rest of the band. His face broke into a grin as he saw you sat at the bar, idly sipping some fruity drink that smelled of pure ethanol.

“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here all alone?” He asked, smirking cheekily at you as he sidled into the barstool next to yours.

You shrugged coquettishly, stirring your drink lightly with your straw. “Dunno, thought I’d come out to see this new band. You might have heard of them, Corroded Coffin. They’re okay, I guess.”

“Yeah?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Just okay?”

You bit your straw, batting your eyelashes at him, something you knew sent him wild. “Yup. Though if you ask me, I mainly came out to see the guitarist. He’s pretty fucking hot, if you ask me.”

“Oh yeah?” His eyes glinted dangerously. “You think?”

Eddie reached out to cup your chin, his guitar-callused fingers stroking your cheek as he pulled your face towards him, kissing you deeply. A small hum left your mouth, swallowed by his mouth as his tongue dragged against your lower lip. Your hands reached up to curl in his shirt, balling the fabric into your fists and you hooked your leg around his thighs, pulling him against your body. The barstool dug into his hip, but he didn’t complain, licking up into your mouth with a fervour that sent your knees week.

“Oi!” A voice yelled, and you broke apart with an exasperated huff to the sounds of jeering and wolf whistling from the other patrons of the bar. Eddie’s bandmate Gareth stood in the corner, crossing his arms and shaking his head with mock annoyance. “Get a fuckin’ room, you horndogs!”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Eddie hollered back. “Is a man not allowed to kiss his girlfriend hello?”

Someone shouted back something unintelligible which was followed by a round of raucous laughter, so you could only guess it was obscene.

Eddie rolled his eyes before turning back to you, his eyes softening. “Hey, baby.”

“Hi.” You smiled back, offering him a much more chaste kiss, which he gladly took you up on.

“What’d you think of the set?”

“Incredible.” You shook your head in awe. “You…god, when you’re on stage, you turn into a different person.”

Eddie let a proud grin cross his face, shaking his sweat-plastered curls around his face. “A good person?”

“Louder, more confident.” You purse your lips. “I like it. But I love my dork just as much.”

“Shhh.” Eddie winked. “I have a rep to uphold, you know.”

“Oh, excuse me.” You said sarcastically.

“I love you.” Eddie kissed the side of your head and cleared his throat, his voice husky from singing and talking to the crowd. “Jesus, I’m parched.”

Wordlessly, you offered him your glass, and he took a sip from the straw, his face scrunching.

“How the hell do you drink this shit?”

“It’s vodka. It’s called being classy.” You drawled, patting his chest. “You wanted a drink, didn’t you?”

“Actually…” Eddie licked his lower lip, his eyes dropping to your thighs briefly, “I had a different kind of drink in mind.”

“What do you…oh.” You trailed off, cheeks burning, as he raised an eyebrow meaningfully. He nudged his lips against your ear, his breath hot on your neck.

“Wanna get out of here?” His voice dripped with sensuality and innuendo. “They did tell us to get a room…”

“Won’t they notice?” You whispered back, and Eddie huffed a laugh.

“Good.” He murmured, and pressed himself into your hip. You shuddered as you felt his stiffening length poke the plushness of your thigh. “C’mon, honey, let’s go somewhere a little more private.”

“Yeah,” You breathed into his hair. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Eddie pulled away, offering you his hand and sneaking a cheeky smack to your buttocks as he helped you off of the barstool. Hand in hand, you weaved through the remaining crowd to the small door next to the stage that indicated to the backstage corridor.

Eddie hardly waited until the door was closed before jumping into action, his hands roughly pinning your arms into the wall as his mouth latched onto the expanse between your ear and neck. A high moan escaped your lips as you rutted your hips forward into thin air, desperate for some friction.

“Eddie-”

“Shhht, sweetheart.” His hands dropped to your waist and began to fumble at your belt buckle, his lips trailing along your neck and lightly nipping at the sensitive skin. “I’m thirsty.”

“Baby, w-we’re still in the corridor.” You panted, struggling to form your mouth around the words through the haze in your brain. “They…they’re just outside the d-door. Anyone could walk i-in.”

“Hmmm.” Eddie hummed, his fingers creeping underneath your black shirt, making goosebump trails on your naked flesh. “Guess you’ll just have to be quiet then. Can you manage that?”

You bit your lip. “I…”

“I said, can you manage that?” Punctuating his words, Eddie raised his hand to your breast and gave it a firm squeeze, causing your mouth to drop open in a gasp. He took the opportunity to press his lips to yours, his tongue dipping against yours, swallowing any moan that might have escaped your throat.

You whined into his mouth, snaking your arms around his neck and twisting your fingers into his hair, causing a guttural curse to fall from his lips. He pulled back lightly, digging his teeth into your lower lip. In response, you hissed in a combination of pain and pleasure, tugging at his curly locks.

Eddie groaned. “Fuck, sweetheart, what’re you doing to me?” His mouth dropped from your face to your neck, nipping at the soft skin and soothing the jolt of pain from his teeth with his tongue.

“Ed-Eddie, fu-uck…”

“Don’t think I didn’t see you shaking your ass in the mosh pit.” His mouth continued descending over the clothed swell of your breasts, burying his face in the fabric, and inhaling your scent. You watched him drop to his knees, his hands skimming up your thighs to play with the hem of your shorts as he hiked your shirt up slightly and pressed his lips to the expanse of your stomach just above your pubic mound. “What, were you trying to get a reaction? Trying to catch the eye of someone else in the crowd?”

“No-ooo…” You gasped, your fingers tightening in his hair. “I-I was just dancing.”

“Good,” Eddie panted, his breath hot against your stomach. “Because you know that nobody else can fuck you the way I do, don’t you?”

“No,” With a whimper, you shook your head. “Only you, Eds.”

“Good girl.” He kissed the waistband of your shorts, catching his teeth around the denim. “And you know what I’m going to do to you now, don’t you?”

You nodded wordlessly before realising that Eddie couldn’t see you from his lower vantage point until he pulled back, his brown eyes dark and imploring you to speak. “Y-yes. I know.”

“Say it.” Eddie’s fingers danced dangerously close to the hemline of your shorts.

You swallowed, glancing at the still-closed door as a cherry-red stain blossomed across your face. “Eddie, I-I can’t.”

“Go on, honey.” He cooed darkly. “You have to say it for me to give it to you.”

“Eddie.” Your voice was coloured by desperation. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please, eat me out!” You blurted, clapping a hand to your mouth as soon as the words were out in the open.

“Aww,” Eddie smiled against your thigh. “When you beg me all cute like that, how can I say no?”

His long, talented fingers hooked around the hem of your shorts, shimmying them down your leg as you leant against the wall. Your face burned even hotter as you imagined someone walking in on you in this compromising situation – you, ass pressed against the wall with your boyfriend on his knees trailing kisses up your thigh.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat as he dragged his eyes up your exposed legs and crotch, savouring the view. “Fuck, have I ever told you how much I love these panties on you?”

Despite the situation, you stifled a giggle. “You love all of my panties on me.”

“True,” He conceded, cocking his head so his ear rested against your thigh as he hooked one finger around the waistband of the lacy black thong hugging the curve of your hips. He glanced up with a devilish look in his eyes. “I much prefer all of your panties off of you, though.”

In one fluid motion, he dragged the lace down your thighs, lifting your feet with his hands so he could shimmy them off your legs. With a wink, he stuffed them into his back pocket.

“I’ll give them back to you later,” He promised huskily, biting his lip, “but they might be a little, ah, used, when you get them back.”

You swallowed, a tingle drawing down your spine. “Eddie…”

“Okay, honey, I’ll put you out of your misery.” Eddie chuckled, skimming one hand up the inside of your thighs to slide one finger along your folds.

“Oh- fuck!”

“Shit, baby.” His eyebrows raised as he rubbed his thumb along your weeping slit, spreading your slick along your lower lips. “Is all this for me?”

“You kn-know it is,” You moaned, letting your head fall back against the wall with a soft thump. “All for you, only yours, Eds.”

“That’s right.” He pressed his lips to the inner expanse of your thigh, tantalisingly close to your wet core. The beginnings of yesterday’s stubble scratched against the soft skin of your leg, providing a friction you desperately craved as you lightly rolled your hips down, but not close enough to his mouth for your liking. “Who does this pretty little pussy belong to, baby?”

“Eds…”

He smacked his hand roughly against your thigh. “Who?”

“Y-you, Eddie!” You cried out, knees shaking. “I-it belongs to you.”

“Good girl.” He hummed, one hand skating up your lower leg. “Do you think it’s time for me to drink my fill, sweetheart?”

“Please,” You whimpered. “Please.”

Without warning, Eddie grasped one of your ankles and hiked it over his shoulder, burying his nose in your pubic mound. His breath was hot against your exposed core, his needy panting causing pangs of desire to throb through your pussy. You couldn’t bite back a needy whimper.

It was as though something snapped.

With a low growl, Eddie’s hands snaked beneath your ass to grab at your soft buttocks, anchoring you in place as he slipped his tongue desperately between your lower folds.

Your mouth dropped open. “Eddie.”

“Fuck, you taste so good,” He breathed against your lower lips, running his tongue along his teeth as if to savour the taste.

The thumping of loud metal music from behind the door stifled your soft moans, the pounding of the guitar throbbing in time with your pussy as your boyfriend eagerly lapped at your wet heat like a man stranded at a desert oasis. He brought one hand back around to your front and slipped his index finger in to the first knuckle, lightly dipping it in and out of your slick in time with the broad strokes of his tongue.

“Eddie,” You whined, lightly tugging at his hair. “I…I…more, please. I want more.”

“What my princess wants,” He murmured darkly, inching his finger in just that little bit further, the cold bite of his rings sending electricity skittering from your core, “…she gets.”

With his words, he crooked his fingers just like that, just the way you liked, the way that always sent the coil of white-hot arousal bursting from your centre. You almost sobbed in relief, your knees threatening to give way beneath you. If not for your leg still slung over his shoulders and his hand firmly planted in the plush curve of your ass, his silver rings scoring deep grooves into your flesh that caused the sweetest of aches, you’d have collapsed with pleasure.

“Good girl,” He whispered into your folds, “…sweet girl. Do you want to cum for me?”

“Please,” You squeezed your eyes shut, leaning your head on the cinderblock wall behind you. “Please, I…I want to cum.”

Your words caused something to change in Eddie’s demeanour, and he shifted lightly so the leg that remained planted against the floor was nestled between his knees, your calf sandwiched between his thighs. You felt his erection press into your skin as he started rutting against your lower leg, grinding his jean-clad cock against you. A low groan escaped his lips, causing a thrum to resonate within your quivering core.

“You drive me c-crazy,” He panted, pulling away from your crotch. A petulant whine escaped your lips which quickly turned into gasps of pleasure as he nipped lightly at your thighs, his slick lips gliding effortlessly along your damp skin as he littered your inner legs with bruises and hickeys. “Fuck, I n-need to make you mine.”

“I’m yours,” You gasped, twisting your fingers in his hair. “You, you know I’m yours.”

“Mine, all-all mine,” He mumbled, his words slurring into one unintelligible string of syllables as he lay the flat of his tongue against your clit, causing a high pitched keen to draw from your throat. “You’re pretty, so pretty, sweetheart. You keep making all these…these pretty fuckin’ noises and…fuck, you’re driving me wild.”

Between moans, you giggled breathlessly. “You drunk, baby?”

“Drunk on you.” He groaned, the rocking of his hips against your calf becoming more desperate as soft pants escaped his lips, misting across your core. “Drunk on this perfect pussy of yours.”

“Eddie, please…” Your mouth dropped open as he delved in once more, a rather unattractive trail of drool dribbling from the corner of your moaning lips as he fucked his tongue in and out of your entrance with broad, lapping strokes that made the crank of white-hot pleasure in your stomach turn.

“Gonna make you cum so hard,” He muttered, tongue tracing pointed circles around your clit as he crooked his fingers against the fleshy upper wall of your pussy, stimulating your g-spot from the inside. “Gonna make you cum all over my face, right?”

“Please.” You begged, your legs beginning to tremble. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it, baby.” He said sweetly, slipping a second finger inside and scissoring them inside your cunt, curving against your aching g-spot. “Alright, I’ll give you what you want, okay?”

Against the symphony of moans erupting from your lips, you heard the wet shlick-schlick-schlick of his talented fingers playing you like you were a song, his thumb coming to rest against your throbbing clit as he touched you with more care than his guitar.

His tongue delved deep into the ring of your entrance, joining his fingers, and a sudden wave of pleasure crashed over you, like ice water thrown from a bucket. It rushed from your core all the way to your cheeks and fingertips and toes as you threw your head back once more, your scream of pleasure drowned out by the thudding of the drums outside. Your thighs threatened to close around Eddie’s head, holding him in place, but he held you spread wide open as he eagerly tongue-fucked you through your orgasm, his bucking against your leg becoming wilder and wilder as your muscles clenched around his tongue and fingers.

Stars danced across your vision, your nerves on fire as you chased your climax. You were putty in his hands and he knew it.

He patiently coaxed you through your release, groaning as your juices coated his tongue and your resolve fell apart in his hands and over his tongue, holding you up as you collapsed against the wall. Your breathing was harsh and heavy, eyes half-lidded as he flicked his tongue against your abused clit.

“Fuck – ah, baby, t-that’s too much!” You whimpered between pants, feebly gripping at his hair in an attempt to detach him from your lower lips.

“Just one moment,” He groaned, “Just one more…ah…”

He stiffened, his tongue stilling against your clit as he let out a rough grunt. His fingers slowed, easing out of your pussy as he squeezed his eyes tightly, resting his forehead against your lower stomach.

“Jesus,” He whispered, panting lightly. “That was…that was…”

“Eds?” You murmured, and he knelt back on his haunches, skimming his tongue along his swollen, glistening lips. He glanced up at you, pupils blown out with lust and hair tangled and knotted, as he reached for the hemline of his shirt and pulled it up to wipe your juices from his mouth, offering you the sight of a tantalising, inked sliver of stomach.

“You okay?” He swallowed lightly, his Adams apple bobbing in his throat, and you nodded.

“I’m good, so fucking good.” You said breathlessly. “You?”

“Yeah,” A sheepish smile crossed his face, “only…”

You furrowed your brow. “What’s up?”

“It’s nothing, I just…” Eddie laughed, an embarrassed flush spreading across his face. “I came in my pants like a fucking teenager.”

“You did?” A grin touched your lips as you retrieved your shorts from the floor, shimmying them up your legs. The denim was rough against your sensitive folds without the protection of your panties, but you didn’t really care. “Really?”

“Don’t look so proud.” He rolled his eyes, almost shyly. “You’re just, god, that was so perfect.”

“Want help cleaning yourself up?” You licked your lower lip, glancing down at his crotch, and Eddie’s eyes widened, tempted.

“Y’know…”

The door slammed open, and Gareth poked his head around the corner.

“Show’s up, ladies. We’re packing the van now.” He blabbered, and you bit the inside of your cheek as you glared at him. He blinked in confusion. “Eddie, what’re you doing kneeling on the floor like that?”

“Oh, you know. Her shoelace was untied.” Eddie lied smoothly, reaching out and fiddling with your worn converse.

“Right.” Gareth cocked his head, clearly confused, before shrugging it off. “Anyway, it’s about time we headed back. Be at the van in 5.”

As he left, and the door to the hallway closed again behind him, you and Eddie stayed in stunned silence for a beat before catching each other’s eyes, bursting into laughter.

“Oh, man, he bought that?” Eddie chuckled, shaking his head as he got to his feet.

“Quick thinking, though.” You approved, bumping his shoulder. “I had no clue what to say to that.”

Eddie’s eyes were soft and full of mirth as he looked at you. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too.” You leaned against him lightly. “My offer stands, you know.”

Eddie let out a low huff of laughter.

“Tell you what, we drop off the knuckleheads…and then we can take a nice, hot shower at my place and have round two.” His eyes, dark and full of meaning, caught yours. “Deal?”

You swallowed, your mouth dry.

“Deal.”

[neonblessing]

5.

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT! ⚠️ Click here to read Neon Blessing from the beginning!

Shiv drew her hand back slightly. “What do you want?”

Ornarch silently took a seat in a plush armchair which appeared beneath him like a supplicant. He set the phone on the arm of the chair and folded his thin hands contemplatively. He met Shiv’s eyes for a moment, then spoke, his voice like velvet. “What happened that night, Shiv?”

Shiv went to open her mouth, but he was speaking again.

“It was supposed to be a simple burglary. You had a key. Raz had the building plans. You were both professionals. And you did half the job! A little bird told me the theft was reported to the Church. But despite that, you’re missing an arm, and Raz is, well, missing. Along with my cut of the money.”

Ornarch tilted his head like a vulture inspecting a roadside corpse. “Shiv, darling, my wonderful protégé… Did you get your share?” Unspoken, a simple fact they both knew: he would know if she lied.

“No.” After carrying her to Maggie’s couch, Raz had left, with all the money and without explanation or goodbye.

Ornarch leaned back and breathed a sigh of relief. He met her gaze again, grief lining his aged face. “Oh how they have wronged us, Shiv.”

“What do you want?”

“It’s a dreadful business. Tasteless, even. But we both know there’s an honor among thieves. You wouldn’t rob one of your brothers or sisters, would you?”

“No.”

“And I would never take anything from you, save for my rightful cut.”

“You never have.”

“And yet your little friend,” he said, putting the same venom into the word as one might put into “tumor” or “cop,” face twisting with contempt, “well, they seem to have forgotten about common decency.”

“What do you want.” It came out less as a question, more as a challenge.

“This really is a dreadful business, Shiv. You can take the phone now, no matter what you decide. A gift from an old man to his favorite daughter. To his loyal daughter.”

Ornarch had taken her in when her parents, long forgotten now, had left her to die. He’d first called her son, and then daughter, always proud of her in his distant, transactional way. She was suddenly very aware of the tattoos on her shoulder blades.

He continued, lips unmoving as the beak in his throat spoke. “And if a certain traitor happened to suffer their rightful punishment at your hands, well, I’m sure we could do something about that arm of yours.” Unbidden, a vision of cold steel and titanium flickered through her mind. An enticing prospect.

He held the phone out to Shiv. His nails were long, talon-like, in bad need of a trim. His hand felt ice-cold as she took the box from his grasp. “We rule these streets, Shiv. No one steals from us.”

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