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shieldofiron · 21 days

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Pretty Boy Live in Santa Fe, 1977

Part 1/3 Also on Ao3 here

For @harringrove-relay-race. Very happy with how part 1 turned out, and there will be more to come. Thanks to @foxxtastic for the intro and next up will be something stunning from our fearless Relay Race leader @half-oz-eddie

Rated M / 5k words / Part 1/3

Part 1: Into Hades

Rolling Stone Magazine - May 2002

Billy Hargrove arrived after I did, in his lovingly maintained blue Camaro, the subject of his song, “Lady Blue.” “Lady Blue” was recently named #93 on Rolling Stone’s Top Love Songs of the Century.

“I wrote, ‘She’s the wind in my hair, the rumble in my soul.’ I thought it was so obvious,” He laughed, his blue eyes still boyish. “My niece made it her wedding song, I said ‘Really? It’s about a fuckin’ car!’”

He showed me several pictures of his niece, the supermodel Tyler Sinclair. It seems good looks run in the family. He suggested the diner and he ordered waffles, winking when I mentioned that we’ll be here a long time.

The decades have been kind to him, maybe a few more lines. It’s not hard to imagine him stepping right back onto the stage, as if no time has passed at all.

“A little extra glitter on the eyes,” He said with a smile, “to hide my crows feet. That’s all I need.”

I ask what he’s going to wear to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame ceremony for Kaleidoscope's induction and his smile dims only for a moment.

“I think I should pull out some old costumes. You know, the butterfly still fits.”

He was referring, of course, to the sheer butterfly cape costume that nearly had him thrown off the stage in Houston Texas in December 1976. He caved to putting on a pair of silvery shorts rather than the nude underwear it was designed with. He later wore it with the nude underwear on the inside cover of Kaleidoscope, the album that will be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in just a few short weeks. Kaleidoscope was his last album with the iconic Glam Rock band Pretty Boy, which famously broke up at the height of their career while touring for the album, onstage.

It’s not often that a band is inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and there’s a question if all of them will even show up.

“I’ll be there,” Hargrove said, fiddling with the silver band on his middle finger. “I have no problem with seeing him.”

The him is, of course, the lead guitarist and other lead singer of Pretty Boy, Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington invites me to his oceanfront house in Malibu later that afternoon.

“I haven’t decided if I’m going to go,” He said thoughtfully, his brown eyes darting around the room.

When I mention that Billy is going to go, he seems surprised.

“He didn’t say he was going to punch me, did he?” Harrington smiled, but it doesn’t seem like much of a joke.

For one of the most famous rock stars of the 70s, Harrington is shockingly low key. He wears a t-shirt and slouchy linen pants, and he jokes that he ought to have shaved when I take out my camera. The house is stunning but empty, with miles of blank white walls and overstuffed white furniture.

“I’m looking for a little peace,” He shrugs, “I used to have all these pictures up, all this furniture… It was too much.”

It was hard not to see him as an artist without a muse. He drifted listlessly, picking things up and putting them down as we talked. So it was a surprise to me to hear that he’s been recording.

“I may never release it but… Yeah,” He laughed, “Music. After all this time. Bet you didn’t know.”

He picks up a rare photo from the piano. It’s from the early days of Pretty Boy, before Billy Hargrove. Harrington has his arm around his bandmate, Eddie Munson. Their drummer Chrissy Cunningham is balanced precariously across their shoulders, laughing and cringing at the same time. Bassist Robin Buckley smirks from the corner of the frame, messy bangs in her eyes.

“Who knew, right?” He asked no one, shaking the frame a little.

There are no pictures of Billy Hargrove.

“That’s a… a long story,” He said, when I asked.

But I have time. I tell him Rolling Stone will pay for it. At least that makes him laugh.

It was just by chance that Pretty Boy’s last concert was filmed.

“We were meant to just film in Vegas,” The director, Argyle Molina-Zapata, sat down with me after a private screening of Pretty Boy Live in Santa Fe, 1977, “But there was a freak rainstorm, and I couldn’t get my camera’s out of the back. The crowd was digging it, refused to leave. I remember when Billy hit the high note for ‘Mother Make Me,’ there was this lightning crack… brilliant.”

Molina-Zapata shook his head, “But the footage, what I got of it, was awful. Awful! So I begged Murray to let me come with them to Santa Fe.”

Murray was Murray Bauman, famed tour manager, who handled the Boys, later Pretty Boy from their first album Starfire, all the way to Kaleidoscope.

“And I was lucky,” Argyle nodded, “They had that extra tour bus.”

The tour busses are featured in the first few minutes of the film. They roll around the corner, one reading Billy Blue (Billy’s original stage name was Billy Blue before he dropped the Blue), and the other, Steve’s Six (Named after Steve’s best friends from his hometown.)

“They were nightmares,” Murray Bauman’s voice crackled over the phone, “Nightmares on tour. Separate buses. Separate hotels. Fuck me, I swear to god at one point they wanted separate stages. And the label caved on almost all of it. Fucking nightmare.”

It’s almost impossible to imagine it when you see them on stage together. There’s something electric that passed between Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington, something that drove crowds wild. They gravitate towards each other on the stage, orbiting like planets until they can share the same mic. They can’t seem to stay apart.

It’s hard to see exactly what happened that night.

“I’ve watched it a million times,” Argyle laughed, “But the only two people who can really say what happened are Billy and Steve.”

What you can see is this: Steve tearing into “Pride & Prejudice”, the lead off Kaleidoscope and the last song of the night.

Billy was trembling, visibly shaking as he sang and Steve harmonized along.

What can I say, if you ask me to walk away?

Baby, there’s no words for you.

Baby. I don’t know what to do.

Billy danced closer, joining Steve, his handheld mic loose at his side.

Can you ever put away your pride?

Is it worth it to not have me at your side?

I guess it must be, because I’m yours,

Regretfully,

Baby.

Billy leans in, sharing Steve’s mic for the bridge.

Is it really a mystery?

What I mean to you, and you mean to me?

Is it really, baby?

Billy shook his head, curls bouncing. He looked into Steve's eyes. He smiled. Steve looks at Billy, and Billy looks at him. It almost looks like Billy mouths something, but bootleg footage also has appeared where it looks like Billy just nodded. Steve goes a little shell shocked, hand freezing on his guitar, falling out of sync.

And then Steve turned away and left the stage, handing his guitar to a stagehand. Billy turned to the crowd, his expression strangely triumphant. He was always magnetic on stage, but this moment transcends that. It somehow feels like he’s getting everything he wants.

So I guess I’m losing you,

You promised me you would and it’s true.

Baby, there’s no words for you.

Baby. I don’t know what to do.

Steve Harrington hasn’t performed in public since 1977.

“None of us knew what was going to happen that night,” Chrissy Cunningham curled up next to her husband, Eddie Munson, on the large white couch of their Seattle home.

They’re a handsome couple still, draped in rock and roll finery. He toyed with the edge of her scarf, and she curled his long hair around her long fingers.

“We had some of our own shit going on at the time so…” Munson shrugged, “Maybe we were distracted.”

Their living room was crowded and verdant, every spare flat surface covered in plants. Their partner, former record executive Jason Carver, puttered in the kitchen in an apron that read Plant Papa.

“Yeah,” Chrissy smiled, “We had some stuff going on at the same time. But still… It seemed like they were getting better. Didn’t it seem like they were getting better?”

Munson shrugged, “The thing about Billy and Steve… they were soulmates. You don’t write music like that and not… it was like they had a second language, just for them. They were soulmates, I really believe that. Everything they did, everything that happened… they could only hurt each other that badly if… yeah.”

When I ask what they did to each other, Eddie and Chrissy just scooted closer together, like teenagers in a slasher, hiding from the killer. She laid a hand over his leg, her two stone diamond ring catching the sunlight.

“Steve never wanted Billy to be in the band,” Eddie shook his head, “but Jim had a soft spot for Billy. And Steve had… I mean Jim was…”

“Jim was like a father. To all of us.” Chrissy’s knee jiggled.

“We were this little tiny band from Nowhere, Indiana,” Eddie nodded, “And Jim believed in us.”

“I was just a junior exec at the time. I was put on the Kaleidoscope tour in case of catastrophic failure, which by the way it was,” Jason Carver is making risotto while we speak, the steam curling the lock of hair that falls over his face. “But it wasn’t my fault although I was high as hell on coke half the time. I guess I deserved to get fired. But Jim was the real deal. Gold records out the ass, best wife in the world, and his daughter, I mean… she was something else.”

They’re referring, of course, to Jim Hopper, producer on Kaleidoscope as well as Billy Blue and The Boys’ records, and the father of pop superstar Eleven aka Jane Hopper.

“Jim was…” Steve Harrington’s eyes always got a little misty talking about Jim, staring out over the ocean. “Yeah, I guess he was a little like my dad. My own parents were always gone. Which is like… I grew up so privileged so like I’m not saying… I just mean I grew up mostly by myself. And we were just so lucky he even agreed to listen to us when we got to LA.”

“I remember that night,” Joyce Hopper’s voice was raspy, cigarette-y in the way only old movie stars are. She’s a gorgeous woman in jeans and a gardening hat, speaking to me while she tends to her garden at her home in Castellammare. “He came home and said, ‘I have the next ones, the next big ones. Fuck, Joyce, they’re brilliant. Unpolished, but brilliant.’”

When I ask about when Jim discovered Billy Hargrove she just laughed.

“If Steve and the rest of The Boys were unpolished, Billy Hargrove was a fucking ten carat diamond,” She said. “But Steve’s band was Jim’s, and he could polish them up how he wanted. And then when he thought they were just right for it… he set the diamond.”

Jim Hopper was a big man, larger than life both in appearance and in personality. His fingerprints are all over some of the best hits of the decade.

Watching him on old interviews, there’s an immediacy to his presence that leaps off the screen.

“My daughter is the one who really found him. She snuck out with her sister and wandered God knows where. And she just… found him. Called me the next morning, saying ‘Dad, you have to hear this guy.’ He was playing in this… terrible club,” Jim said, tapping his cigar on the table of Merv Griffin’s set. “Absolute shithole, pardon my french. And he’s got a great voice, you’ve heard his voice, right?”

“I have,” Merv said.

“I had to get him out of there. He was a star.”

Billy Hargrove was a teenage runaway from San Diego when he came to LA in 1971.

“I had a girl’s backpack from my stepsister, eight dollars, and an extra pair of underwear. By the end of the next week? I had two more dollars,” Billy laughed. “But I got lucky. I met Heather.”

Heather Holloway was a showgirl at Wildwoods, a nightly revue. She found Billy at the backdoor, and took him to her apartment.

“She saved me,” He frowned. “Whenever I needed her most.”

Heather Holloway, Billy Hargrove’s first and only wife, died in 1979.

“I got a job singing at Sugar, this great gay club downtown. It was in the late afternoons, so I had a crowd of about… two. But those two brought two more,” Billy smiled, “Heather would talk me up to all the promoters. He’s a singer, he’s great, you’ll love him, he’s so cute.”

“He was an instant hit,” Sugar’s manager, Bob Newby, tells me by phone as well. “I did have to keep a couple of creeps off him, when he just started he was only nineteen. But even if you closed your eyes… he was a hit.”

“Guys used to think that because I was a part of the entertainment, I was fair game. And let me tell you, the novelty of that wears off mighty quick,” Billy shakes his head.

He shares a diary entry from his late wife of a night in April 1972. He came to her home with blood all over his face.

“Some guy thought because I was a fag…” Billy’s mouth twisted, but he went on, cradling the little marble notebook in his hand. “He could do whatever he wanted to me. When I fought back… he cracked a bottle over my head.”

He’s not just a piece of meat. He’s a person. I don’t understand these people. I just don’t understand, Heather Holloway wrote. I cleaned him up and he’s sleeping now.

The next diary entry is from a day later. April 12. Billy and I drove to Vegas and got married. When we spoke in the morning he said he was afraid for me too, even though I’m careful with the girls. He’s afraid of the cops trying to bust up the Wildwoods and picking me up. At least this way, he says. He and I can come home to each other. Look out for each other. Always. The groom wore band aids and his great velvet pants. The bride wore lavender. It was perfect.

“And lucky too. Because within a month… I met Jim,” Billy smiled. “And my whole life changed.”

Upside Down Records signed Billy Blue, unagented, in1972 and he spent the next year working on his debut album with Jim Hopper.

“I didn’t even realize, when it happened,” Billy shook his head. “A couple of girls came by after a show, wanting to talk to me, wanting to meet me. That wasn’t that unusual. But they were young, far too young to get into the club. And the little one, she was asking all these weird questions. Did I have an agent? Did I know if I had enough songs for an album? Weird fuckin’ questions. And then she said I have to meet someone. To be honest, I thought she was coked out of her mind when she said, ‘You have to meet my dad.’”

“I was not,” Eleven promised me, “coked out of my mind. But that’s just Billy.”

Eleven aka Jane Hopper, meets me backstage at one of her shows. She’s dressed in slouchy leather pants, to match her sister and drummer Kali Hopper.

“I knew he was something special. My dad was always talking about the IT factor. That thing that made a person something special. But I didn’t get it until I saw Billy Blue singing on that tiny stage,” She smiled. “He didn’t just have the IT factor. He was IT.”

It’s odd then, that Billy Blue’s first album had a surprisingly tepid response. His first single, in 1973, “Let Alone,” came in at only 26th for the month of April on the pop charts.

“People liked it,” Billy shrugs, “But I don’t think they knew what to do with it. You have my songs, these like… little pop love songs and ballads. I wasn’t that strong of a writer at the time. It was like half my songs, half covers. And so they’d book me, expecting fucking… Peter Frampton. And here comes this big queer with glitter on his nipples.”

But the lyrics of “Let Alone” would hint at his later songs, a hallmark simplicity that shone off his raw voice and poetry that hinted at a troubled past.

And if you were meant to care for me

You would, and that’s how it has to be

You said I couldn’t go on without you

Ha, look at me, looking brand new

At the same time, The Boys’ song “Paper Girl,” penned by Harrington, was number one.

She’s my paper girl

Wakes me up every morning, right on time

She got me smiling, got my head in a whirl

Picture perfect, paper girl

“Billy didn’t have much commercial appeal. Sex appeal, yes,” Jason laughed, toying with Chrissy’s hair. “But for sales? That’s where The Boys came in.”

“I hated that name,” Eddie said, “To start with we were half girls.”

The Boys had already had a somewhat successful tour under their belt by the time Jim suggested a collaboration with Billy Hargrove.

“It was a nice, short tour,” Steve Harrington glances away when I ask about the first tour.

“It was a nightmare. Balls to the wall nightmare,” Robin Buckley’s voice is a warm crackle over the phone. “Steve went on like thirty overlapping benders at once.”

Her partner, soap actress Vickie Carmichael cackles behind her, at their home in Salt Lake City.

“The thing about Steve is… well… he’s never found a good way of coping with himself,” Robin huffs. “Music was about as close as he ever got. But in those early days, he just kept looking for more and more.”

“You don’t think it was about-” Vickie asked, just barely into the phone.

“No.”

“It was about Nancy,” Eddie said confidently when I mentioned their first tour. “Nancy, Nancy, Nancy.”

The Boys got their start in the late sixties, beginning with Eddie and Steve. Eddie gave Steve guitar lessons, which turned into some talent show performances. They used to practice at Eddie’s Uncle’s trailer.

“That’s where we got the name,” Eddie nodded, “My uncle used to just call us that, and it stuck.”

“I don’t even remember,” Chrissy said.

“That’s not how we got the name,” Steve shook his head, when I mention Eddie. “It was our first gig, after we got Chrissy and Robin. Robin put it down after the headliner kept asking when ‘you boys’ would go on, and kept addressing it to Chrissy’s chest. She blew him out of the fucking water.”

Nancy Wheeler was there that night, writing about local bands for a tiny column in the school paper.

“She was beautiful. Smart. So smart. Could hear her talk forever,” Steve said, eyes falling.

Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler were married in 1972 after they graduated high school.

“Steve made his own choices,” Chrissy shook her head.

That summer, the Boys plus one drove to LA and Nancy Wheeler took a job at Women’s Day Magazine and later, Rolling Stone. Steve Harrington and The Boys got a “steady gig” at La Bonita Rosa on the strip, playing for drunks every night from seven to eight.

“I really liked playing at La Bonita,” Steve said. “The audience, right there. You could smell the sweat. You could see on their faces if you were bombing. And we used to bomb. A lot. But it was a great place to try things. Experiment. We played there for about a year but… it felt too short.”

Within the year they had met Jim Hopper, who got them into the recording studio and sold their demo nearly on the spot to Upside Down Records.

“They had a great sound. They had got this way of playing. Smooth like a polished stone. Everything sounds good sitting in a frame like that,” Jim said in an interview with Rolling Stone in 1981. “Their songs were… catchy, but basic. But they had the sound.”

Upside Down records set the Boys on a US tour after “Paper Girl,” and “Joy to Love You,” both charted.

“It was like… overnight. One day we’re in a studio, messing around. Kid stuff. I was nineteen,” Steve Harrington shookhis head. “But…”

“That tour,” Chrissy trails off, playing with her ring again.

“I…” Steve Harrington scratched his nose. “I was losing it. Majorly losing it. It felt like we had just moved to LA and we were already neck deep. I mean, I had a number one fucking song. And for some reason I got it in my head to call my mom. She told the maid she wasn’t home. And I could hear her over the phone. My mom. So yeah. I lost it. Lost about half my damn mind on that tour. And people will say it was because of Nancy, because we got married just out of high school, and she wasn’t supportive… but that wasn’t true. Nancy saved me.”

“Nancy never wanted him to be in the band. But… she also didn’t seem to care that much either,” Eddie shook his head, “It’s… complicated. Love is supposed to be. Simple. Like the chords of a song. 1-3-5.”

Jason Carver rolled his eyes at that, “Then what are we?”

Eddie grinned, “We’re a band.”

Nancy Wheeler met me on a Thursday in New York City, slim sunglasses dominating her small porcelain face. We get lunch at her favorite deli shop, and she perches at the counter, loafers dangling. She’s an editor at The New Yorker now, but she still has a soft spot for rock and roll, as evidenced by the Grateful Dead t-shirt under her blazer.

“That tour. I didn’t even know anything was wrong. He just came home with a funny look on his face, saying, ‘We’re headlining.’ So I said, ‘That’s great, Steve.’ He just kept… saying it. It was starting to piss me off, if I’m being honest,” She shook her head. “I should have known something was wrong.”

“I wish she had stopped me. But how could you know right? Hindsight is always 2020,” Steve Harrington said. “I mean, she was my wife. How could she not want me home? But that’s just… sorry. That’s not fair to put on her. I chose to go.”

“I flew out to meet them when they were in Indianapolis, visited my family, and I came a day early to see him,” She smiled warmly, and then it fell. “He was… Well, first, Eddie Munson tried to intercept me at the hotel, so I wouldn’t see him. I told him, ‘I’m here to see my fucking husband.’”

Steve Harrington didn’t add any more details about the tour, just shrugged when I asked.

“He was coked up like you wouldn’t believe,” Robin scoffed. “She walked in on him with two girls and coke all over his… well.”

“I just asked him. Do you want to come home? Do you want to get help? Or not?” She purses her lips. “And so he came home and we found a rehab place near Hawkins.”

“The tour kind of… fell apart. Obviously. We had lost our lead singer and guitarist to fucking… Hawkins, Indiana,”

Everything stopped for the Boys. Upside Down offered to let them out of their two album contract, but Steve couldn’t afford to pay it down.

“Rehab,” He shrugged. “Is expensive.”

Right as it seemed that everything would be over for the Boys, things were looking up for Billy Blue.

“Jim was always saying, ‘the record is selling alright, the songs are getting there but he needs a… push,’” Joyce said. “‘He’s so close. So close. He’s a star.’”

“He always believed in me,” Billy smiled, toying with his ring again. “Always. Even when I threw a jug of milk at his head.”

Joyce laughed when I asked about that moment, “He came home saying, ‘He milked me, Joyce. But he’ll fix the song tonight.’”

“And I did,” Billy said. “And the album was going alright. I did a little tour, socal and the southwest. And then one night, Jim brings me this song. He said, ‘I want you to tell me what’s missing from this.’”

The song was, of course, the Boys’ biggest hit, “Hades.” Steve Harrington’s first version was called, “To Orpheus” and the chorus goes:

Don’t turn back don’t look behind you baby

I’m close, I’m right behind

The future's so bright, and I want you to take me

Wanna be holding your hand when I make it across the line.

“It was fine, but just kind of… nothing. It was supposed to be about Eurydice, but it was so… nothing. She just loved Orpheus and that was it. There were no insides to her. She was going to follow him to her doom,” Billy shook his head. “That’s not right.”

This was not the version that made it to the recording booth, of course. The Boys’ single, “Hades featuring Billy Blue,” came out in 1975. The actual chorus goes:

Turn back on me and I won’t forgive you baby

Don’t want you to see me like this

Up ahead is bright, and I want you to take me

If you’re strong enough to cross that finish line

“‘Hades,’ was a real step forward for the Boys. Gone were the teenybopper tunes,” Steve Harrington’s biographer and personal friend Dustin Henderson wrote in his book The Pretty Boy. “Their first album got the kids dancing. But the second proved that they actually had something to say.”

“Still hate it,” Steve Harrington said. “I wrote that song in rehab. It was deeply, deeply personal to me.”

“He came out, all ready. He wanted to start recording right away,” Robin sighed. “Like I mean the next day. All these songs, just pouring out of him. But the label had lost faith in us. And they certainly weren’t going to let us start recording with a guy who had only just earned his thirty day sober chip.”

“The song wasn’t ready,” Billy shook his head. “But I guess he was. Jim said he needed this. So Jim asked if I would come and like… pitch some stuff as a personal favor. Songwriting credit, that’s all it was supposed to be. Get the songs moving, get them going.”

Steve Harrington takes a long time to continue speaking about it.

“I felt it, writing for that album. I felt proud of those songs. They didn’t belong to anyone else but me,” He toyed with some piano keys while we talked, and then finally sat down and began to play something tuneless and half formed.

“That album was all about Nancy,” Chrissy said. “I mean. I know it. You know it. Nancy knew it. And she kind of hated it. But-”

“You can’t leave your husband right as he gets out of rehab,” Nancy said to me, toying with her wedding ring. “When he writes all these songs about how you’re the only thing… Steve was always like that. Heart wide open. That’s why when he met Billy. I almost thought… it would all be okay. That sounds fucked up but. I thought they could save each other. That the music could save him.”

“It was just a songwriting credit,” Billy raised his hands. “Jim swore up and down. I was just gonna come in there and sit down with this guy Steve. But when I walk into the studio, there’s two mics set up.”

“I was the Boys’ only singer,” Steve Harrington shook his head. “And to be absolutely honest, I was kind of a jackass about it. So to have some guy come in and say he’s gonna sing me my song… well…”

“Steve was the only one who would ever argue with Jim, And he let him have it that day,” Eddie laughed. “He called him the most low down, dirty, rat bitten bastard in California, and that he would die rather than give up his band to someone else.”

“I did not want his band. I did not know his band. And I did not care. And his song sucked. And I told him so. And then I sang it. Better.” Billy smiled.

“Billy was…” Chrissy shook her head. “Incredible.”

I ask Steve what Billy was like that first day in the studio.

“He was,” Something passed over his face. “Alright. He has a great voice, alright.”

“I was good. Better. Best.” Billy smiled.

“But he didn’t understand the song. He wanted Eurydice to… doubt. To think she wasn’t going to get out,” Steve slammed his hands on the keys. “It’s been… almost twenty years. I still don’t understand it.”

I asked why he let Billy stay. But Steve doesn’t have an answer.

“They were like oil and water, right away,” Chrissy said.

“Yeah, but oil on the water can catch fire,” Eddie shrugged.

“Jim asked me to stay,” Billy looked away from me, down at his waffles. “It was a favor to the label.”

“If Billy said louder, Steve said mute,” Robin snickered. “It was kind of great, actually. Finally someone called King Steve on his shit. One day I came in and they were arguing over how close the microphone should be to your throat. Almost got in a physical fight over a fucking microphone. I mean, I love Steve. But he always thinks he’s like… the babysitter. It’s his job to do everything for everybody.”

“Like who was this guy? Really? He came into my studio with no shirt on, most of the time still half smashed from the night before, and he thinks he can make all these changes. But Jim keeps telling me it’s just business, the label thinks it’s good business.” Steve frowned, and then smiled, and then frowned again.

“Yeah, I never wore shirts back then. Or underwear,” Billy said with a grin. “I was a rockstar!”

“Steve fought for every song on that album,” Nancy Wheeler patted her lips primly with a napkin. “He only lost on one.”

“Billy Hargove has songwriting credit and lead vocals on “Hades.” Dustin Henderson wrote.

“Billy was all over that album. He’d make some minor suggestion, maybe this chord instead of that, this word is better. And Steve would flip out, yell at him, yell at Jim, threaten to storm out… and then two days later quietly tell me to change the chord, he’d start singing the new words. Billy was there with us about every single day,” Eddie said.

“Of course, it was our biggest hit,” Chrissy laughed. “Everything but that song, Steve did what he wanted. Oh we had Billy in the studio, making suggestions. But Steve did what he wanted except for ‘Hades.’ Jim said that song is the album, and he wouldn’t cut it.”

“Jim was always right,” Steve closed the piano. “The bastard.”

Hades exploded onto the radio in late 1975. They didn’t have the same distribution as their first record, but the Boys had another hit.

“Billy had this way of singing it. Still does. He broke four mics when we recorded it. Singing so loud I had to keep an eye on the cymbals to stop them from shaking. You can feel him, right in your chest.” Chrissy giggled. “Like he was trying to wake all the dead from Hades. If anyone could, he could.”

“It’s a really, really great song,” Robin said.

This song belongs to Billy Blue, Rolling Stone wrote in 1976. The only question now is, what will The Boys do next?

“I remember that article. Fucking… Harrington said that he basically wrote the whole song. But he said, ‘the label thought bringing Billy in was a good idea,’” Billy gets tense for the first time. “I’m not saying I was like… I just mean. It would have been nice. To treat me like an equal. I’m more than just a singer. I’m not just… a piece of meat.”

“Billy was really pissed about that article. I remember, the day after the article came out, we were getting breakfast at this tiny place off La Cienega. Steve had this car back then, a big maroon BMW, and Eddie had got him a vanity plate when he bought it. Stupid thing it said, ‘BIGBOY.’ Anyway, We’re having breakfast, and we hear this screech outside, like an accident,” Robin Buckley gets uncharacteristically quiet as she goes on through this story. “Billy’s car is parked halfway out of the parking lot, and he comes in like a bull in a charge. Billy… he wasn’t some wimpy guy. He was small, but he was strong as hell… He came right over and grabbed Steve by his collar and lifted him right off the counter. And he said, I’ll never forget it because Steve used to recite it from memory, yell it at me, ‘Tell me I’m not dreaming. Is that Steve fucking Harrington? The lead singer of the Boys. Hey man, I love your song ‘Hades.’ How’d you get your voice to sound halfway decent for once?’”

“I don’t remember that,” Steve Harrington said flatly when I asked.

“And Steve used to be a fucking dick in high school. So he starts getting real bitchy, shoving Billy off him, asking what his problem is, why he’s such a dick all the fucking time, when it’s not even his band. And Billy said something like, ‘No one wants your shit band. Not with you in it,’” Robin paused for a moment. “And they just. Stare at each other. Like… daring each other to do something.”

Billy just shrugs when I ask, “I was pissed. I gave this guy a number one hit, and he still wanted to treat me like some… airhead singer the label brought in as a stunt. I’m not just a singer. I’m not a piece of meat. I’m a person.”

When I ask Steve about that day he’s pretty quiet, deflated at his piano. He only wants to talk about the song. The music. Can’t seem to talk about Billy any other way.

“He sang it like he not only knows Orpheus can’t save him, but that he won’t. It was supposed to be hopeful. A happy ending.” Steve said.

“So you still hate the song?” I asked.

“No, I don’t. It’s brilliant. And that’s the whole problem.”

To be continued...

Next up is Half-Oz-Eddie's piece at 7:00 pm. GET HYPE!

#harringrove relay race #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fic #steve x billy #harringrovefic #harringrovefanfic #harringrove fanfiction #harringrove fanfic #stranger things #my writing #DJATS au #Daisy jones and the six au #tw drugs

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spop-romanticizes-abuse · 5 months

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so 96% of you wanted to see me do a redesign of mermista. and while i can draw, i've been stuck in an art block so i opted to just draw over her current design. i don't hate all of it so i'm not changing everything.

let me go through the complaints i do have about her design.

first off, she does not look like royalty in the slightest. she just looks like some girl who likes the color blue. even the gold accents don't really help. i'm not saying she has to walk around in a gown and tiara but at least add something to her design to indicate that she's a princess?

secondly, those clown shoes are NOT IT. who even thought of that? they look uncomfortable and ridiculous, and doesn't make sense for her character design.

those sleeves/armor (??? i honestly don't know what those are) and gold gauntlets also do not look practical in the slightest. they look like they'd be a hindrance for a swimmer. and guess what, she still has them in her mermaid form.

the OG mermista design wasn't the greatest but at least it looked like she could swim comfortably.

so my objectives were:

give her outfit a more streamlined look so it would make sense for her powers

make her look like actual royalty and not some girl with a cool color palette

expand more on the indian-inspired design and reflect that in her usual outfit, instead of putting her in a saree-inspired dress for one episode and calling it a day (i say saree-inspired because it's not really a traditional saree, but more like a modern and slightly western rendition)

i made two versions of her redesign - one with a dupatta and one without. the dupatta, i understand, could be a hindrance in certain situations but i just wanted to give an example of how to take inspiration from a culture instead of just using it for brownie points. a dupatta is something indians would wear with their casual attire, mostly with salwars, unlike sarees which are generally reserved for special occasions (there are sarees that are casual wear, but they're still not the most convenient).

secondly, i gave her a headwear inspired from desi wedding attire and older indian tiaras. mind you, indian tiaras themselves are a lot more complex and beautifully crafted, but 1. it would take me ages to draw all the details and 2. i figured mermista would go for a simpler look, especially when she's not at her palace. also, while indian headwears are usually made with gold and jewels, i gave mermista's headwear pearls because.. pearls, oysters, ocean. mermaid vibes.

i changed the shoes and gave her a pair that are inspired by water shoes. i know that she would transform into a mermaid while swimming anyway, but these still look more comfortable without serving clowncore.

i replaced her gold accents with silver because the gold doesn't really mesh well with the teal, in my opinion. while indians are known for their love of gold, a lot of people nowadays opt for silver, because it is less expensive and more compatible with casual wear.

i highlighted the fishscale pattern in her outfit since you could barely see them in the original.

i gave her a bindi and the necklace that 80s mermista wore, as a tribute to the OG show, and the design is complete. i know that some of these may not be the easiest to animate but if they could animate perfuma's cape thing, entrapta's hair and a hundred different outfits for catra; this design is just child's play.

let me know what you think of the redesign and if you want me to do the same for the other characters!

#spop critical #spop #spop criticism #spop discourse #she ra #spop redesign #character redesign #character design #mermista #mermista redesign

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neil-gaiman · 1 year

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Hi Mr. Gaiman, your Smoke and Mirrors collection is one of the weirdest, most batshit crazy collection of miscellaneous stories I have read yet, and it is absolutely one of my favourite books ever. I heard LeVar Burton read “The Holy Grail” on his podcast, then I bought the book as soon as I could find it. Everything I have read/watched of yours has been more than worth it (Good Omens has an equally honoured place in my bookshelf, the Sandman show has consumed my brain) , but Smoke and Mirrors in particular felt like picking up a narrative kaleidoscope where instead of just watching the colours shift, feet in the metaphorical ground, I went with it. Thank you very much for that, and high five to your brain because your stories left a profound impression on mine. A guardian angel of a cat, getting the shit beat out of it every night by the evil it keeps away. The newly weds who receive the story of what might have been. The man dangerously obsessed with discounts. The elusive erotic magazine model. How to describe it? I feel over that book the way corvids behave when they find something interesting. I will be fascinated turning that kaleidoscope over and over for a long time

Also…I found you contributing to wizard-core in my Pinterest. May we all have a cape as nice as yours someday. Peak aestethic serve, sir

I'm so proud of Smoke and Mirrors. I'm glad you like it.

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amaramizuki666 · 1 year

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identity crisis part.3

‘tim’ felt safe, he felt warmth surrounding him. he didn't understand, was he dead, he doesn't feel dead. ‘tim’ opened his eyes to find himself in a fluffy bed.

He sat up swiftly in a panic, his hand flying to his shoulder. 'Tim' hissed under his breath as he felt his bandaged up shoulder.

"Good your up" a guy around 'Tim's' age spoke as he walked into the room. 'Tim' snapped his attention to the guy. His eyes glowed Lazarus green and what should have been the whites where black, his skin a pale green, his hair snow white and wispy.

He had long pointed ears and sharp fangs. He was wearing a sorta black jumpsuit with a white D on the chest. He also had a cape that looked to be made of stars.

Above his head was a crown made of aroura and a ring of light on his middle finger. 'Tim' couldnt help but stare, the man before him was incredibly handsome. "Um where am I? Did I die? Who are you?" 'Tim' spoke. The man walked over to 'Tim's' bedside.

"Firstly your basically in the ghost equivalent of a hospital, two no your not dead, and three my name is phantom, but you can call me Danny if you wish" the guy-Danny says with a gentle smile. 'Tim looked him in the eyes "if I'm not dead then why am I in a ghost hospital?".

Danny let out an amused hum "well before I answer that can you tell me what you remeber?".

'Tim' tore his gaze away from Danny's, he is unsure if it's safe to say anything about himself or what happened.

Danny saw 'Tim's rejection to the question and sighed. "how about I tell you what I know" Danny says and sits on the bed.

'Tim's eyes drifted back to danny. "I found you in green glowing goo, with a bullet hole in your shoulder and a stab wound in your gut" danny says and 'tim' felt is body go rigid in realization.

'Tim' pushed himself slightly away from danny "how did you get my body from the Lazarus pits? I know I should have sunk to the bottom". Danny snorted "you summoned me that's how".

'Tim' tilted his head and arched his eyebrow "summoned? What do you mean? Whst are you?". 'Tim' couldnt help being inquisitive, he may not be the Tim but he still had his originals memories.

Danny smirked at 'Tim' flashing his fangs. The man grabbed 'Tim's' hand and brought it to his lips, laying a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

Danny's lips where cold, but not in an uncomfortable way, but in s way that felt pleasing. "Well my dear, let me properly introduce myself. I am danny phantom king of the infinity realms, the balance between life and death, and holder of the stars. And you summoned me with the offering of the blood of a hero and made a deal with me to save your life" danny says.

"Deal" 'tim' inquired. Danny smirked and leaned in close to 'tim' "yes in exchange for saveing your life you would be mine". 'Tim' leaned closer to danny till their noses touched "in what way am I yours".

Danny pulled back and tilted his head, far more than any human could. And smirked at tim flashing his fangs " in what ways do you want to be mine". 'Tim' laughed awkwardly and joked "when's the wedding". "In 3 days" Danny answered without hesitation.

'Tim' sputtered " I WAS JOKEING!!!" "I wasnt" Danny laughed. "Anyway love I never did get your name" Danny says proping himself on his elbow.

'Tim' wasnt sure how to answer. He wasnt Tim, it didnt feel right using his name. "Uh Drake" 'tim' stuttered.

Wait no, that's so stupid why would he say drake! But then again 'Tim's' original did go by 'the drake' at one point sooo mabey they both arnt very smart.

-----------------

Also feel free to add on your own stuff too, I love seeing people's stuff.

Part 2

#writing prompt #writing #danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #dc #dc comics #batfam #my writing #dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dp #danny x red robin #clone tim #danny x tim #ghost king danny #ghost king au

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dreamofjoys · 2 years

Note

Hi! If your requests are still open may I request wedding followed by a spicy honeymoon one shot with Yandere!Malleus. Maybe Y/N and Malleus becoming parents too 👉👈The Ghost Bride event made me sad there wasn’t Groom Malleus so that is where I got this from lol🤣

a/n: i love your idea omg T-T the reason why this took kinda long is cause i spent the past few days thinking about where malleus would bring us for honeymoon ..... i wished disney include malleus in more events :( / i hope the spice is spicy enough! i tried to make it long <3

scenario: yandere!malleus getting married to darling in valley of thorns and brings her to honeymoon on a beach~ he aims to pump darling full of his cum until she gets pregnant

characters involved: yandere!malleus draconia x fem reader

tw: i forgot how to describe clothes, imagine the honeymoon is at maldives, virginity loss, unprotected sex, oral (fem darling receiving), slight praising, possessive malleus, belly bulge kink, overstimulation, manhandling, pregnancy

getting married to one of the most powerful mage in the world is pressurizing. moreover, the mage is a descendent of a dark fae, blood of a royal family. eyes from all over the world are looking at the both of you, eager to see what kind of future you guys would bring under your ruling.

lots of royals who are from other countries that are on peaceful terms with briar valley were invited to the wedding.

the wedding was held in the ballroom of briar valley's castle. the venue was decorated with beautiful red roses, a red carpet has been laid down at the middle of the ballroom, for you and malleus to walk down the aisle. all of the esteemed guests sat down on their assigned seats, excited to finally witness the wedding that briar valley hasn't had in ages.

"now, let us all rise and welcome the groom, malleus draconia, crown prince of briar valley, and the bride, y/n l/n!" everyone rised onto their feet, staring at the doors with anticipation as it opened, revealing you and malleus. the orchestra started playing the wedding song while you hold onto malleus's arm, slowly walking down the aisle with him.

malleus was dressed in a black suit, paired with a luxurious gold brotch that shines brightly on his right chest. his black cape reaches his ankles, matched with a stunning white fur that circles around his shoulders. you wore a black gown that was decorated and lined with diamonds, a black translucent veil covers your face as you walked with malleus, fearing that you would fall down. but malleus placed his right hand on the arm that was linked to yours, assuring you that nothing will happen. you are safe with him.

"do you, malleus draconia, take y/n l/n lawfully as your wife?"

"yes, i do."

"do you, y/n l/n, take malleus draconia lawfully as your husband?"

"yes, i do"

"from this moment onwards, i pronounce the both of you as husband and wife, you may now kiss."

malleus lifts off your veil slowly, trying to take in your lovely features and have them memorised at the back of his head. in his eyes, you have always look beautiful. but today, you are gorgeous. one kiss is all it takes to tie the both of you together. you are his now, and he is never going to let you go.

"hmmm, this place is quite pretty." you told malleus while looking around. you were at one of the private beach resorts that was owned by malleus. deciding that a beach will be a nice honeymoon destination, you and malleus decided to come here to relax for a month before going back to the castle.

"not as pretty as you, dear." malleus hugs you from behind and nuzzles into your neck while you bask yourself into the scenery in front of you. the tides were mild today, wind blowing on you and birds flying in the sky. the resort was situated right on the sea, near the coast area. it will surely be relaxing to rest on a windy day near the beach, right?

unfortunately, malleus has other plans. once the both of you had settled down into your shared bedroom, he throws you onto the bed and started cuddling you.

"my dear lovely wife, i want you to give yourself to me." malleus trail kisses from your neck down to your shoulder blades. you furrowed your eyebrows, not understanding what he mean. "malleus, i am already married to you. am i not yours?"

"yes... you are my wife, i have your love and attention. but i want your body, that's the one thing that i still don't have. my lovely wife, are you going to deny your husband?" malleus looks at you and pouts as you sigh.

truth to be told, you had always knew that malleus had developed an unhealthy obsession towards you. he seems to always cling onto you, gets overprotective and possessive, gets jealous when other guys talk to you. despite how scary he is, he is always soft around you, only wanting your love and affections. perhaps thats the part the made you fall in love with him, wanting to be given the special treatment. you love him and he loves you, so who are you to deny his request?

"sure, we can do it now." malleus growls and pulls you closer, one of his hand lingers on your thigh while the other one holds you by your waist. "are you sure, y/n? tell me that you want it, because i will breed you so full that you won't be able to walk anymore."

"yes i am sure, malleus. i want this. let's make love to each other." with your given consent, his hand slides under your dress and travels up to your private region. to his delight, you were only wearing an underwear, making it easier for him to do the job. he pushes your panties aside and rub your clit, earning a moan from you.

parting your legs wider, malleus pushes his middle finger in, feeling your virgin walls sucking him. "fuck, you are tight." malleus breaths out, feeling excited that he finally gets to explore you. he inserted his ring finger in, and started finger fucking you at an insane speed. you groaned, body squirming under his hold as he holds you flush again his body, not allowing you to squirm away. "a-ah! so fast!" it was your first time having such an intimidate moment with anyone, you don't know how to feel about this pleasuring sensation that is coursing through your body.

"i know this is your first time. so whatever that i give you, just take it." malleus whispers into your ear as you moaned again, feeling a tight knot pooling down on your stomach. "mal-malleus, i think i-i am going to cum!" right after you said that, you started milking on his fingers, staining them white. he pulls out, bringing his stained fingers close to his mouth, side glancing at you before licking them.

you shivered under his gaze, feeling a little embarrassed. for a moment, you wonder if you tasted good.

malleus lays you down fully on the bed while he positioned himself between your legs. with a snap of his fingers, your clothes were gone, leaving the cold air to touch on your bare naked body. he placed both of your legs on either side of his shoulders, making sure to spread your legs wide open for him to see your cunt.

you squealed, hands reaching your chest to cover your breast and attempting to close your legs, but malleus's firm grip on your legs said otherwise. malleus frowned, unhappy that you are covering your naked self in front of him. "remove your hands from yourself, i want to see all of you." you gulped and complied to his wishes, knowing that it wouldn't do any good if malleus is angry. angry malleus is never a good thing.

he hummed in approval, before returning his gaze back to the feast that is displayed in front of him. your cunt was already drenched in your own fluids, providing a shine on it. malleus licks his lips, suddenly feeling hungry.

“don’t resist me, love.” with that, he dives into your cunt, licking your labia and clit. you shuddered at the new sensation, back arching as you let out a small gasp. malleus only smiles, before burrowing his face further into your cunt, sticking his tongue into your pussy. his tongue harshly thrusting in and out of you, feeling your velvety walls clamping down onto his tongue, pulling him further into you. you moaned in ecstasy, hands flying to grip onto his horns, pulling him closer.

“fu-fuck!” you gasped, unable to believe how good malleus is at eating you out. if you remember correctly, this was also malleus’s first time too right? but how is he so good at it? he is already lapping at your cunt like a hungry beast, eating you out dry and pulling orgasms out of you. he promptly inserts two fingers, wanting to further explore your insides, scissoring you and trying to hit on different spots that would pull an reaction out of it. “ma-malleus!” “yes love?” “a little too much- a-ah!”

malleus grunts, playing with your bud in circular motions, flicking it aggressively. and then, you cummed on his face, just like how he wanted. he lifts his head up and observes you, watching the rise and fall of your chest. you, who were lying in front of him, all vulnerable and naked. a thin layer of sweat covers your body as your pant heavily, plump lips slightly opened, your boobs bobbing a little as you try to catch some breath.

malleus’s face was drenched with your fluids, some of sliding down from his cheeks and dripping from his chin. he leans down to give you a passionate kiss, stroking your cheek affectionately. “what a good girl, you will take in more of me.” he praised you, giving you another kiss, before lifting your legs up onto his shoulders.

he unbuckled his pants and cast it aside, revealing his thick and long shaft. it was standing up straight, the head was slightly thick with a ring of pre-cum decorating on top of it. he gives himself a few pumps, ensuring that is hard and nice before aligning it to your entrance. he use his cock to gently rubbed on your folds, using your fluids as a lubricant for the insertion.

when he was done, he leans down again, one arm placed beside your head while the other holds onto his cock, positioning it firmly on your entrance. and whispers against your lips. “when i insert my cock inside you, you will finally and forever be mine, do you understand?"

"yes, im yours! forever and always will be." your confession send more blood running to malleus's throbbing cock as he slowly sinks his cock inside you. you took a deep breath upon feeling the intrusion of malleus's cock. god, he was so so big. how is your pussy going to accommodate him?

malleus looks down, witnessing his cock slowly disappearing inside you. your pussy feels so small, and yet it is calling out to his cock, eagerly sucking his cock deep into you. "fu-fuck, so tight." malleus breathes out, before abruptly thrusting his hips, forcing the rest of his cock to enter you. you screamed, feeling painful from the sudden thrust but malleus only hush you.

"this pussy is mine, mine." he starts to move his hips, sliding his cock in and out of you, making sure to hit your cervix with the tip of his cock. every time he thrust his cock back into you, he watch as your his cock touches on your belly area, causing a small prominent bulge on your belly. "can you feel me, y/n?" his palm pressed onto the bulge and you yelped, feeling overly sensitive.

"y-yes, mal-malleus! i-i can feel you!" you croaked out your words, trying to be presentable. but the truth is, you are far from that. mouth slightly agape with drools coming off from the side, your tongue was lolled to the side, half lidded eyes staring at the ceiling, only thinking about malleus and his big fat cock that is abusing your pussy. malleus was splitting you apart, and he knows it.

to know that his cock is the one making you feel this way, to know that he is the reason why you are so vulnerable and dumb, it makes him even more horny as he increased his pace, ruthlessly pounding onto you. if anything, your small fingers that were clawing at his back didn't help at all. it only boost his ego to know that you can do nothing but only to rely on him.

"ma-mal- i think- im-" how cute, you can barely form a sentence. feeling your walls suddenly increasing its speed and spamming around him, he knows that you are close. he rubs your clit to stimulate you even further, making sure that his balls would hit your ass every time he thrust into you.

"let's cum together, o-okay?" you didn't respond to him, not like he expected you to do so considering how fucked out you are. you could only moan and scream out his name, because all you can think about is malleus malleus malleus.

"say that you love me and that you are mine, y/n. say it, i wanna hear from you." malleus groans, feeling himself getting close. "i-i lo-love you, i-im yo-yours! forever" oh dear, your undying love had the both of you snapped as you cummed together. thick hot ropes of cum painting your walls, filling your womb up with malleus's seed as your cum milked onto malleus's cock, decorating him with you.

you didn't know how long the sex ended. you could remember malleus flipping you onto your stomach afterwards, continue pounding you and cumming inside your pussy. the night was definitely long. even as you slipped into darkness, malleus had no intention stopping. he cums until the sheets are stained with it, your cunt and ass being painted with his seeds. one thing for sure is that malleus never pulled out. he keeps his cock plunged into you, making sure that you are pump full of his seeds and that none of it escapes.

the honeymoon was fun while it lasted. though malleus would still fuck you every night, you still got to enjoy the sea breeze and try out different types of food.

when the both of you went back to briar valley, malleus was once again stucked with paper work while you just sit back and relax. when you asked malleus why do you not need to do any paper work, he only smiles and pat on your head. "the mother needs to rest and be healthy," was what he said.

sure enough, you woke up one day rushing to the toilet, vomiting out your stomach contents. malleus pulled your hair back with one hand, while the other rubs your back. the royal doctor was then summoned to check up on your health. when he broke the news of you being pregnant, everyone in briar valley was so happy that a ball was held to congratulate you on your pregnancy. you were kinda confused on how you got pregnant, but then you realised that you did have many rounds of unprotected sex with malleus. you were a little nervous, but happy that you are having a baby with the man you love.

and then theres malleus, who was over the moon when he heard about your pregnancy. he gave you a bone crushing hug; but not too tight that would hurt you, whispering how much he loves you and how he would protect you and the baby in your belly. though he was loving to you, he was also extremely overprotective and possessive. only female guards and maids are allowed to be near you. you are not allowed to do any work, but just sit back on the comfy chair that he specifically customised for you and bear the baby healthily.

the maids and guards would constantly eye at you, watching out for any harm that might hurt their queen and the future heir of briar valley. the one time you accidentally got a paper cut, malleus made sure to fire everyone for their "incompetency" and replaced them with someone who is more suited to care for you. you tried to tell him that it was okay, a paper cut doesn't mean anything. but malleus only frowns, kissing on your healed wound, promising you that you just have to leave everything to him. he will take care of you, so just sit back and be a mother to the child growing in your stomach.

when you finally gave birth, it was a small baby girl who inherited most of your looks, but with small horns poking on her head and green slitted eyes that she got from her father. malleus swears that he had never been so happy, and the fact that the baby looks just like you had fueled his possessiveness. be prepared, cause you won't be leaving your shared room for awhile.

#twisted wonderland malleus #twisted wonderland #imagines #malleus draconia #diasomnia #y/n #lilia vanrouge #silver #disney twst #twst malleus draconia #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #twst #dreamofjoystwst #malleus smut #yandere malleus #yandere malleus x reader #yandere smut

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absolutebl · 8 months

Text

This Week in BL - Cameos & Familiar Faces

Entirely subjective yadda yadda. Organized by favs in each category. No numbered lists anymore, tumblr be buggn'.

End of Aug Start Sept 2023

Ongoing Series - Thai

Laws of Attraction (Sat iQIYI) 8fin - Oh the DRAMA. Why does the insane ex (my true love) remind me of the cartel leader from Romancing the Stone? Even the sides got HEA! It was fucking great!!!!! Charn remains a bonkers spoiled evil murderous brat with a cruel smile beloved by his one true paladin. Also: post it love note trope! Been a long while my old friend. NO SINGING!!!!! I do love that wedding jacket frock coat cape thing Charn wore.

In conclusion: This is a great gay suspense thriller with several solid couples, fun plot, killer characters, queer rep, and a happy ending. Charn may be my favorite lead character of 2023. However, this show is not entirely BL, more on the fringe, like Manner of Death. Add that to several "singing incidents" and pairs being a little weak in the chemistry arena, and this lands safely in 9/10 territory. It’s tons of fun tho: HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.

I Feel You Linger in the Air (Sat grey) ep 3 of 12 - This show is getting more and more lakorn each ep. Apparently the straights are having a class divide arranged marriage crisis. Who cares? Our boy is ALWAYS in trouble. Crazy that he has to save the people who betrayed him in a previous life - but I guess he chose revenge! That's unexpected.

Had to switch to grey and couldn’t find a working rip. It was frustrating and I wouldn’t have bothered except I like this show so much. Still, it means no screen caps because the rez is naff.

Dangerous Romance (Fri YT) ep 3 of 12 - Uh oh. Kang wants to save Sailom and be his hero. The fact that K’s Pa puts no pressure on him whatsoever, makes me wonder if K's Ma committed suicide or something? It’s definitely the opposite parental dynamic we normally see in BL. I have to say, the pacing is great in the show. And the acting is on point. It’s really great.

Hidden Agenda (Sun YT) ep 8 of 12 - these two just kiss well. I mean not "rip your clothes off Taiwan-style," but sweet young boyfriends-esk. Joke wants to be claimed so bad. It’s great. I enjoyed this ep, unfortunately it looks like we have a manufactured angst drama drop in the next episode. Is this a 10 episode arc? I thought it was 12. It’s odd to have doom happening next episode already.

Only Friends (Sat YT) ep 4 of 10 - Back story time! Ray and Mew are HARD to watch. Incestuous friend group gay is the worst. Omg I got such QAF vibes from this ep. Nick Boston Sand chats = very throw back 90s gay soaps.

Location game moment: Top's hotel room is also Chan’s apartment in Laws Of Attraction.

Naughty Babe (Sat YT) ep 1 of 8 - Ooo. Est is back! Hi handsome. Head of security suits you. Please lead out the new Waterboyy remake? You’re perfect for the role. (If it must happen.) Yi’s Pa is GREAT. Please give daddy a nice boy? Could that be our secondary couple for this series?

Meanwhile, with the leads (sorry I was distracted by daddy) we got us an arranged marriage, run away bride, and an amnesia trope. Put in a secret baby and it's squarely 1980's Harlequin. Will there be Vikings? Sex herbs? Pirates? Dub con?

Be Mine Super Star (Mon Viki) ep 9 of 12 - Again with lovely sex scenes, it’s just the plot stringing them together is frayed. Also don’t fuck in an onsen. Both yech and ouch.

That goes for all y’all.

Wedding Plan (Wed YT & iQIYI) ep 7fin - Trash watch here! Honestly this was an okay ending, I’m not mad at it. If you can tolerate Mame and liars (kinda the same thing) you’ll be fine with this show.

Summation: An innocent wedding planner falls haplessly and hopelessly in love with a groom who relentlessly pursued him, even though he’s about to marry someone else. A somewhat lackluster mame offering with less of the usual stellar chemistry, but all of the usual lies and manipulation. 7/10

Love in Translation (Sat iQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - I skip everything to do with Tammy and it’s fine. There’s only about 20 minutes of fine but that’s more than enough. On the bright side. So far. No singing.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) ep 2 of 24 eps - Cassanova Begins Part 2. Aw. It was sad. Another variation on the “my ghost boyfriend” trope (usually sad). 2/10 I don't do sad BL.

Next up is Merry Go Round featuring the pair from Destiny Seeker (we likey) who want to marry each other, but end up fake engaged to the same woman. Beard squared? Looks silly.

Crazy Handsome Rich (Sun Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - There are 2 things I like about this. I bet you can guess what they are.

Lee Long Shi

The whipping boy trope

There wasn’t enough of either in this first ep. ALSO the captions, sound effects, and voice over are truly next level bad. Utterly atrocious.

The 2 leads fucking around in the end credits was the funniest part of the whole show.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Jun & Jun (Korea Thur Viki) ep 7 of 8 - I am confused and frustrated about what the communication delay is between the two Juns. It feels artificial and narratively manufactured. But since this is a short form KBL and I know it will be resolved quickly, I’m not as annoyed as I would be if this were Thai BL. Still it feels audience manipulative. I also feel sorry for Simon. BUT it looks like it’ll be a sweet boyfriends final episode.

Stay By My Side (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 10fin - Omg they’re so cute!!! Taiwan the purveyors of ultimate sappy gay domesticity. I am going to miss having these to nonsencing all over my dash.

This show was an interesting take on the "ghost boyfriend" trope. About a boy who is tormented by hearing the dead, except when he is around one other boy - desperation+proximity = love. Unfortunately, the story was erratic and waffled about. While the leads turned in solid performances and the sappy domesticity was off the charts, it never really had the strength of the narrative convictions such a strong concept should have supplied. Highly rewatchable and enjoyable for that sappy domesticity but not a whole lot more. Still I always give extra credit for the diabetes-inducing sugar content and rewatch capacity. 8/10

Kisseki: Dear to Me (Taiwan Tues Viki & iQIYI) eps 3 of 13(?) - I love the punching thing - there is a lot of violent flirting in this show. I’m not mad about it. Ugh, poor thing has real abandonment issues. And now trust issues. I see why we’re getting 12-14 eps. This gonna be MESSY.

Meanwhile, does EVERYONE have a guest cameo? Not that I’m complaining. Hi BLIHID boys! Now I need to rewatch that show.

Love Class Season 2 (Korea Fri Viki) eps 7-8 of 10 - Oh my God the next morning w/ couple 2 was so darn cute. They are all such terrible flirts with each other. Honestly, this show makes me laugh more than any other BL currently airing. I’m not sure it is meant to be as funny as I find it. While couple 3 (the mature characters) is by far my favorite, I actually think they don’t work with the other two pairs, they feel superfluous to the show. I like the show better because they’re in it, but it feels like two different BL‘s stuck together. KBL certainly can’t handle more than two couple threads at the same time.

Why R U? (Korea Wed iQIYI) eps 3-4 of 8 - Ugh. I am such a sucker for the FighterTutor dynamic. Why so good? Uh oh. Real kiss! KBL you're spoiling us. But, isn’t sad-seme-hyung dating some chick? Argh. Poor Sunwoo. This show is even worse at repping Fighter's character sympathetically. Who knew that was possible?

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 3 of 8 - The date episode! Even Japan is doing it now. And these two who have been living/fucking together for ages still dance around each other like junior high kids. I gotta say, I watch this one twice because Vicki has different subs from Gaga. I feel like it’s easier to understand if I watch two different translations of the same script. But it’s still quite a taciturn piece.

Minato's Laundromat Season 2 AKA Minato Shouji Coin Laundry Season 2 (Japan Thu Gaga) ep 8 of 12 - Sides are great. It was mostly a cute ep with tiny bits of Progress and a proper Confession. I miss Shin’s siblings. And then… the much loathed amnesia trope. Really?

Everyone say it with me: Must you, Japan?

Stay Still (Hong Kong Tues YouTube) ep 5fin - It ended happier than I was expecting. Optimistic for one couple, and most likely optimistic for the other.

Summation: What to say about this offering from Hong Kong? It’s different, a mix of early CBL, Taiwanese shorts, and Pinoy visuals. It felt like the story was 2 independent shorts that had been lengthen and then stuck together, and I wish they'd been approached as separate and tighter entities. Nevertheless, this was a complex little piece, interesting in a sweaty grungy way, with a certain aura of queer authenticity that made it simultaneously tense, unpredictable, and refreshing. I’m not sure I would necessarily call it BL, but any county’s early foray into the genre usually starts out this way, so perhaps nascent BL? Worth watching, especially if you enjoy stuff from the Philippines and Taiwan. 7/10

In case you missed it

Dinosaur Love ended its run but the final 2 eps are behind a paywall. Word on the street is they aren't good anyway (shocker) so I'm marking it as DNF and moving on with my life. If I can find em grey I'll watch 'em merely so I can give it a rating, but I can't imagine it will get more than 5/10. Seriously, do not bother.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Coming September

9/15 You Are Mine (Taiwan Gaga) Secretary has to deal with grumpy boss.

9/15 Bump Up Business AKA Bump Up Project (Korea movie) suspected cinema release? I don't know much about what's going on. Last status update. Love story between a trainee who is about to debut and a celebrity from the same agency. Kpop boy group OnlyOneOf has signed up to star in this idol-based BL (based on a webtoon). They’ve been auditioning for this since Libido IMHO. You can watch me chronicle their BL MV series in this post. It’s from Idol Romance who will do sad but can do good kisses (Wish You, Nobleman Ryu, Once Again, Kissable Lips, Poongduck 304, Tasty Florida, Tinted With You).

9/26 I Cannot Reach You AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai (Japan ????) - Adapted from the manga, childhood best friends: The cool, smart one who’s good at everything, and his average, dorky friend who struggles. Always by the other’s side, but not together in the way they truly want to be. No matter how hard they try, their hearts cannot reach each other.

9/27 Absolute Zero (Thai iQIYI) - from 2021, Studio Wabi Sabi and New Siwaj finally bring us this “time loop to prevent tragedy” romance. We don’t always get HEAs from them, so I'm on my guard.

9/? Venus in the Sky (Thai iQIYI) 10 eps

9/? Mr Cinderella 2 (Vietnam YouTube?)

2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED).

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Hidden Agenda hitting us up with a hug + lap + kiss. Very nice.

I think these two might be GMMTV's best cuddlers.

Boys, I think your JoongDunk is showing.

(Last week)

151 notes · View notes

bit-dodgy-innit · 1 year

Text

The More The Merrier - Part One

Set in The Shape of Youniverse

Summary: Doctor Strange’s wedding gift allows you and your husband to fulfill your wildest fantasies

Pairing: Marc x afab!reader, Steven x afab!reader and Jake x afab!reader, Reader is married to the system

Word Count: 3.3k

Rating: Mature (for now!)

CW/TW: Mentions of pregnancy, reader experiences anxiety and mild body insecurity, Marc is ~protective~ and not afraid to threaten violence to protect his fam, discussions of group sex, making out

A/N: Okay y’all! Everyone loved Group Effort so I thought there was no better way to celebrate 1000 followers than to write a follow up! I am currently burnt to a crisp creatively, HOWEVER I figure if I post what I have so far this lovely community’s support and reactions may just invigorate me to get the rest of this naughtiness out!

Translations at the end of the fic as usual!

You thought you were dreaming. You must have been, because why else would Doctor Strange be in your living room talking to your husband? The sound of voices had awoken you, and when you saw that Marc’s side of the bed was empty, you followed the hushed but heated voices to their source.

You could hear Marc insisting lowly, “I told you I can’t…”

“And I told you his new avatar is miss–”

“Honey?” You interrupted, your voice raspy from sleep, “What’s going on?”

You’d rubbed just enough sleep from your eyes to be able to take in the sight before you. Marc, in his pajamas, mid-argument with Doctor Strange, red cape and all.

You blinked furiously. Up until that very moment, all of Marc’s stories about being the white knight dude–Moon Knight, he told you he’d been called, were just that. Stories. You liked it that way. That way, there was plausible deniability. Seeing him talking to an Avenger in your flat made things startlingly real.

“Go back to bed sweetheart,” your husband urged you, trying and failing to keep his mounting frustration from bleeding into his tone.

Like hell you were going back to sleep. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Marc answered immediately. His pointed look to the Avenger meant that Strange wasn’t going to divulge anything either.

“Sorry to wake you, Mrs. Spector,” the sorcerer offered instead.

“I’m not going anywhere until one of you tells me why he’s here in the middle of the night,” you informed both men plainly. It was perplexing to think that the men in charge of your planet’s safety, like Doctor Strange and your husband, were such shit liars.

“It’s Khonshu--” Strange began.

“He’s retired,” you interjected. Your husband resuming his superhero activities, especially when you’d just found out you were pregnant a few weeks ago, was your worst nightmare.

“I know,” he assured you, “I had a question for Marc, that’s all.”

“And I told him that I can’t be involved with any of this shit, in any capacity,” your husband fumed, “Twice now.”

“Well excuse me,” the sorcerer snarked, “and here I thought you’d become a consultant.”

You couldn't stifle the giggle that Strange’s comment brought forth. Marc bristled, “Please sweetie, will you wait for me in the bedroom? I’ll show Stephen out.”

Hearing that your husband was on a first-name basis with an Avenger made your head swim. You nodded, but didn’t completely comply, going only so far as the hallway so you could eavesdrop on them unseen.

“Did I just get you into trouble?” Strange inquired.

“Yes,” your husband confirmed. “Out of everything wrong with me, her only hang-ups are my ex-wife and the avatar shit, so summon one of those portal things before I have to kick you out myself.”

“Wow, okay, so Steven’s the one with the manners then,” he noted wryly.

Marc sighed so deeply you could hear it from across the flat. “How many times do I have to say–”

“Congratulations by the way.”

Your heart dropped. Did he know? He couldn’t know. You were nowhere near showing, how on earth could he know? Doctor Strange flew and did magic and traversed the multiverse, but there was no way he could tell that you were pregnant, was there?

“I’ll tear you limb from limb and rent your stupid cloak out for birthday parties,” Marc threatened in a snarl, “I didn’t want anyone knowing that we're together, let alone that we’re expecting. If that information leaves your lips, so help me–”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Strange promised him, “though it explains why I can’t convince you.”

“Use that forgetting spell on yourself,” your husband ordered.

“I’ll do you one better,” the sorcerer offered, “I’ll put you two under the protection of the London Sanctum. It’ll keep her safe while we sort all of this out…though it’d go a lot quicker if you–”

“Want me to re-introduce you to Jake?” Marc growled.

Now it was Strange’s turn to sigh. “You realize you don’t have the suit anymore, right?”

“Nunca lo necesité,” the man in question interceded, “Disfrutaría el desafío.”

“You really love her, don’t you?” the Avenger observed.

“She’s the reason I left Khonshu,” Marc confessed. After observing him so tight-lipped and protective about your relationship to Strange just now, your husband’s candor shocked you.

“I’d say you traded up,” the sorcerer remarked archly.

Marc stood firm. “Yeah, and I’m not looking to downgrade anytime soon.”

“Can’t blame you. Well Marc, it’s always a…time.”

The faint hum of what you assumed was the magic he conjured for the portals Strange used alerted you to scamper back to the bed and dive under the covers, so that when Marc returned you could convincingly feign sleep. Moments later, you felt the mattress dip under his weight and his arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“Are you mad at me?” came his timid question, murmured into your hair.

You didn’t open your eyes. “That you told Doctor Strange to fuck off for the sake of our marriage? For our family? No, hun.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized anyway, “I hate how that this part of my past won’t let me go.”

“This wasn’t your fault and you didn't get involved,” you pointed out, implicitly urging him to let it go. “Can we go back to sleep? Need to rest up for my inevitable morning vomit sesh.”

Marc held your tighter and pressed a kiss to a notch of your spine. “‘Course baby.”

You weren’t exactly proud of how quick you were to brush the encounter off, but being a newlywed and a surprise pregnancy meant you had enough on your plate. There wasn’t any mental or emotional space to entertain the thought of your ex-avatar husband having to risk his life to ensure your, your unborn baby, and Earth’s safety, because if you did, the Hulk would look like a teddy bear in comparison to the state it’d send you in.

Luckily, Marc was even better at sweeping uncomfortable moments under the rug than you were. You didn’t give the late-night meeting with Doctor Strange a second thought until a few weeks later when you glimpsed a headline about another global calamity averted emblazoned across a fellow Tube passenger’s copy of The Guardian. Your first trimester made you incredibly motion sick, so you had to look away and deep breathe at once, since the last thing anyone wanted on their morning commute was a woman spewing all over the car.

Work served as the perfect distraction, until you received a particularly cryptic and distressing text from your husband mid-afternoon.

From: Hubby

Can you come home please?

From me:

Now? Are you alright?!

From Hubby:

Yes, I’m fine. Just need you to come home right away.

You huffed. That answered absolutely nothing and only made you more anxious. The periods at the ends of his sentences were a dead giveaway as to which alter you were texting with, so you pressed:

From me:

What’s wrong Marc?

From Hubby:

Everything’s fine, I promise.

From me:

Are you sick?

The three dots appeared that he was typing, but you’d already sprung from your desk chair at that point. You hurried over to a superior’s office to let them know you were leaving early, claiming a spousal emergency, and you didn’t even wait for a proper response from your boss before you returned to your office, collected your things, and dashed for the door.

From me:

Just told Graham I’m heading home. I’ll be there soon!! Do I need to call 999? Harry? Dr. Moorhead????

Marc never asked for help. He'd rather eat all ten toes. It was a point of contention in your relationship, something you were working through, so the fact he’d texted you in the middle of the afternoon asking you to come home freaked you the fuck out. You’d just gotten into a taxi - it’d be faster than the Tube this time of day - when he finally responded.

From Hubby:

No. See you soon.

You slammed your fist, still wrapped around the rectangle of your phone, down against the upholstered seat in the cab. If Marc was alive when you got home, you were going to kill him.

After one of the most fraught cab rides of your life, you breathlessly burst through the door of your flat. “MARC?! Jake?! Steven?! You okay?”

Your husband sat on the couch, appearing to be perfectly well. “Hi baby.”

You rushed to him, instantly putting the back of your hand to his forehead to check his temperature. “What’s wrong? God, would it kill you to tell me what’s going on? I nearly gave myself an ulcer on the way here.”

Marc caught your hand and brought your palm to his lips, murmuring “I’m sorry” into the skin there.

“Is someone going to tell me what the fuck is happening here?” you demanded.

“It’s okay, everything’s okay baby,” he tried to soothe you.

“Then why did you send me those vague bloody texts telling me to come home ASAP?”

A sound from the bedroom momentarily distracted you before Marc captured your other hand in his grasp and gently tugged you to take a seat next to him. He continued to apologize, “I’m sorry, so sorry baby. We didn’t know how else to do it, plus we wanted it to be a surprise.”

You regarded him warily. “For what to be a surprise?”

“Remember when Stephen – well, Doctor Strange came here?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, he um…he knew you were pregnant–I didn’t tell him, he just…I don’t know he mystically sensed it or something–and he felt bad about implicating you in our business. I ended up helping him–nothing really, just told him some stuff he wanted to know about my time as Khonshu’s avatar, and he wanted to thank me–well us, I guess? He said to consider it a belated wedding or early–”

“Ay…I think I’ve missed a birthday with how long you’re taking!”

This was it. Forget your husband’s mental health struggles, you’d officially had a psychotic break. Because Jake had interrupted your conversation by walking into the room. In a separate body.

“Fucking hell!! You couldn’t wait thirty more seconds?!” Marc snapped at him.

Thank goodness you were already sitting down. The room swam. Your husband – wait, husbands?-- kept bickering with each other while you stared at them, glassy-eyed and slack-jawed.

“No voy a perder otro segundo teniendo que escucharte un parloteo. No tenemos todo el día aquí.”

“What the fuck is going on?” you asked yourself in an awestruck whisper.

“Honey?” Marc turned to you, “you’re okay.”

“Todo esta bien,” Jake added, rushing to your other side.

You were grateful that there were two of them, otherwise you would’ve collapsed. The thought made you laugh. Wow, you’d lost your mind with a stunning efficiency it seemed.

“Sweetheart, can you hear me?” Marc’s eyes searched yours, desperate for you to focus.

“Uh huh.”

“What este pendejo was trying to say,” Jake interjected, “is that el doctor did a spell where we all get our own body for twenty-four hours.”

“He can do that?” It was a stupid question, given that you were surrounded by two of your husbands, but your brain was all but fried.

“See! This is why I wanted to do it like this! We needed to ease her in!!” Marc lamented.

“Where’s Steven?” you asked. He had to be here somewhere too, right?

“You can come out now!” Marc hollered toward the kitchen, and lo and behold, the last third of your husband shuffled into view, complete with his individual body as well.

“Why am I always the only one who follows the plan?” Steven complained, then after taking one look at your ashen face, joined his counterparts tending to you. “Oh darling, are you alright? Sorry, I know this all must come as a terrible shock. You want me to put the kettle on? Make you a cuppa?”

“The only thing that could help me right now is a stiff drink, which I obviously can’t have because of…” you trailed off and gestured to your midsection.

“Right, sorry. Marc and I wanted to do this differently, but leave it to Jake to muck things up, as per usual,” he groused.

“Oye, vete a la mierda pequeño–”

Marc tried to stop them. “Shut up, both of you, this isn’t hel–”

“Oh my God is this what the inside of your head is like?” you wondered aloud, unable to squash a delirious chuckle.

“Yes,” Steven confirmed, trying to maintain composure, “a small sampling of it, I’m afraid.”

Your chuckling escalated to full-on unhinged laughter. What else were you to do when each of your husbands were given their own body and argued in front of you?

“Am I high? Or at the very least awake?”

“No and yes,” Marc replied.

“So this is why I had to come home early,” you surmised.

“Sí, we only have twenty-four hours, and we weren’t going to waste anymore on waiting when we could–”

“We could what?”

“Well, with the baby coming, naturally our sex life is going to take a hit,” Marc said, “so, this seemed like a perfect, one-in-a-lifetime opportunity to um…fulfill some fantasies.”

“You faked an emergency and made me ditch work so we could all have group sex?”

Steven groaned, “It sounds so tawdry when you put it like that.”

Marc buried his head in his hands, but Jake puffed up his chest. “Por qué no? Vas a trabajar cada día, ¡pero tal vez nunca volvamos a estar así!”

“No one is touching me…” you protested, heaving a labored breath as overwhelmed tears brimmed in your eyes. “No one is touching me until you all apologize! Properly! You scared the shit out of me just now! You can’t…you can't keep me in the dark like that…I can’t take the stress between your past and the baby and work…it’s too much! So guess what? The last thing I want to do right now is have sex!”

Three flummoxed faces of concern stared back at you as they each realized they’d severely miscalculated the reveal. Apparently you looked so pathetic it dispelled any of their urges to argue about it, the reminder that you were pregnant seemingly enough to shut them up and send them straight to contrition. Plus, they were probably still hopeful they could get some action later if they apologized right away.

“I’m sorry baby,” Marc began, pulling you to his chest, “We wanted this to be fun, but…”

“Somos estúpidos,” Jake finished for him, “Even with separate bodies, we all think with the head between our legs.”

Steven spoke next, “Take all the time you need, my love. We don’t even have to…do anything naughty. We just want to be with you like…as…as us.”

“Uh, no. We have to fuck,” Jake disagreed.

Before you could snipe back at Jake, you remembered something Marc had told you about the last time they were separated. Their entire journey through the Duat, Jake had been trapped in a sarcophagus. Despite being married to them, you couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like to share your body, your life, with two other people the way they did.

So of course having a body of your own, especially if there was a clock on it, would be a momentous occasion, and it warmed your heart in a funny, roundabout way that Jake wanted to share this precious time with you as intimately as possible.

Therefore, you found yourself cackling at his remark. The three of them watched you dumbstruck.

“I think we broke her,” Marc muttered under his breath.

When you finally regained your breath and a modicum of your senses back, you proposed, “How about this…we make an early dinner to fuel up for um…the night ahead, shall we say? It’ll give me some time to adjust. Deal?”

It took about an hour, but you did calibrate to having multiple husbands in your flat. Jake and Marc were parked on the couch flipping between games on the telly and arguing over scores, players, and stats while Steven and you camped in the kitchen.

Steven had volunteered to make dinner, and you instantly offered to assist him, figuring that keeping your hands busy would help quiet your racing mind. The pair of you chopped vegetables and, in everyone but Steven’s case, chicken, to make a soup that would be hearty enough to sustain any physical exertion later but light enough so as not to hinder it.

“This is bizarre, innit?” Steven asked while he stirred the broth.

“Bizarre doesn't even begin to cover it,” you confessed. “I mean, I know crazy superhero magic shit like this happens, but never to me.”

“When Marc first told me he served Khonshu, I thought it was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard.”

You laughed at Steven’s frankness. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he echoed, his face splitting into a beatific grin. The two of you leaned across the stove to kiss each other. Neither of you hurried to break it. In fact, Steven slipped his tongue between the seam of your lips, while you turned to wrap your arms around him properly.

You nearly forgot the other two men were there until you were both startled apart by Jake whistling and crowing, “Ey! Save it for later!”

“Entonces vas a ayudarnos con la comida?” you shot back at him without any real heat.

Several moments transpired while you ate in which you lapsed into an astonished silence. Though you were no stranger to your husband being co-conscious, there was something even more wondrous about all three of them having to interrupt each other to speak, though despite their separate bodies, each man tended to talk over the other still.

Marc and Jake were put on cleanup duty, and Steven captured you in his arms once again. He dotted kisses from your clavicle, up the length of your neck, culminating at the extra sensitive spot behind your right ear. “How do you want to do this?”

You mewled at the pressure of his lips on your skin. “Mmmm, I wanna take a shower and primp a bit. Marc had a point earlier, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, might as well make the most of it, right?”

“Whatever you want,” he rumbled into your ear. You could feel Steven’s cock stir as he pressed himself into you.

A devilish smirk danced across your lips. “Wanna look extra fuckable for all of you.”

“Bloody hell, babe,” Steven’s hips stuttered against your leg. He leaned in to kiss you more, but you dodged him, instead scampering away toward the bathroom and throwing a cheeky look over your shoulder.

Beyond the fact that you knew that Jake would want to fuck you in the ass and you needed to prepare accordingly, it occurred to you that your insistence on getting dolled up was just as much for your benefit as it was for your partners. You were about to be more vulnerable than you’d ever been in a sexual situation, and though it was with the people you loved and trusted most in the world, sometimes confidence was best found from the outside-in. So you shaved your legs, styled your hair, made up your face, and slipped into the lingerie that you’d grabbed from your dresser before you retreated into the en-suite.

You examined the finished product of your efforts in the mirror. Your bump wasn’t quite a bump yet at just over twelve weeks, you just looked perennially bloated. You tried to smooth the frown from your face, reminding yourself that you weren’t fat, but instead growing a little life inside of you, the culmination of you and your husband’s love. Nevertheless, you adjusted the straps of the microscopic thong you’d squeezed yourself into to try and create a more flattering shape. After fluffing your hair one more time, you decided you were as ready as you’d ever be.

READ PART TWO

A/N: Eh? We like? Y’all are always so encouraging but if you feel compelled to leave any feedback I could really use it this time around!!!

Translations:

Nunca lo necesité - I never needed it

Disfrutaría el desafío - I will enjoy the challenge

No voy a perder otro segundo teniendo que escucharte un parloteo. No tenemos todo el día aquí - I'm not going to waste another second having to listen to you babble. We don't have all day here

Todo esta bien - Everything is ok

Este pendejo - This asshole

Oye, vete a la mierda pequeño - Hey, look here you little shit

Por qué no? Vas a trabajar cada día, ¡pero tal vez nunca volvamos a estar así! - Why not? You go to work every day, but we may never be like this again!

Somos estupidos - We’re stupid

Entonces vas a ayudarnos con la comida - Then are you going to help us with the food?

Taglist:

@twwcs, @rmoonstoner, @hot-mess-express1, @murdickdocked, @toracainz, @saahmi, @unspokenmoon, @winterbiipp, @avatarofseshat @ilikeoldermenhelp, @losers-club6, @harrys-tittie, @ninebluehearts, @lucianadraven32, @dawnsutopia, @strawberry1042-blog @nikitawolfxo, @weirdo125 @damnzelsoul @missmarmaladeth @welcometostayingawake @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @thatgirlshady

984 notes · View notes

lullaebies · 2 months

Note

For Aegon III/Jaehaera's requests: Aegon being nervous because Haera is having their first child and heir after a decade.

He can hear her screams of pain from behind the doors of their shared chambers.

He starts to pray the gods, despite Baela and Viserys' tentative reassurances then Haera calls for him and Aegon's feets lead him in front of the doors; the guards try to stop him and he orders them to not touch him.

They woke the dragon and the dragon will be protective of his mate and hatchlings.

When he enters, he is quick to be by Jaehaera's side

"My king you shouldn't-"

"I can and I will"

They had their baby boy🥺 and you bet that Aegon cries for the first time out of happiness, then Haera is there like: "Give him to me! he's mine!"

And doesn't allow anyone to touch their baby and you vet Aegon will wash his baby boy, much to the horror and amusement of the masters, midwives and Aegon's siblings

Aegon paces around the hallway in an attempt to calm down. He has been banned from his bedchambers for the better of half an hour now. The Grand Maester and his accompanying midwives have tended his wife as she gave birth to her firstborn; their firstborn.

He is not a religious man, by any means of the word, but he prays under his breath. The gods had long forsaken him, laughing as they planted him on a throne of swords that had cost him nearby everything. But his wife had a woman of more faith, despite all she had been through herself. If the Seven are true to them, they would protect her.

Aegon hopes so, begs so, his stomach turning up and down. The toll of the birthing is clearly heard beyond the doors that separate them. Jaehaera is eight and ten, and they both grew plenty since their wedding, but she has remained a smaller woman to this day. Her pregnant belly had been big for her frame, he can’t help the dark thoughts his mind leads him to.

“You are going to have to breathe, dear brother,” Viserys tells him. “Births do not ever sound pleasant. This is a fact of life.”

Yet they never sounded so difficult for Larra, either, he wants to say, but he only frowns. If it wasn’t for the fact Lady Larra Rogare had left court a year prior, he may have said it aloud. Little Aegon, Aemon, and Naerys were left alone with only their father. The pit in Aegon’s stomach grows exponentially. This is a possibility, for Aegon too, and he had never trusted his odds.

Baela takes him by the shoulder. If it wasn’t his sister, he may very well flung that hand away. “You are going to look more dreadful than your wife when she gets out of that room,” she says straight to his face. “Calm down. I have done as much twice. Rhaena had done so six times. Your little wife will manage, she’s resilient, for all it’s worth.”

She’s neither you nor Rhaena. Resilient Jaehaera had been, but it hasn’t been without struggles. Aegon doubts she had ever said as much to anyone else but him, but this court had been a lonely place for her besides for him. She’s been changing it, step by step, and now labouring to change it definitively, but how alone must she feel in that room?

Another pained wail comes from within the room. I can’t take it anymore.

“I am entering,” he finally says, escaping his sister’s grip. There are protests from all sides when he steps away from his siblings and to his Kingsguards. The bumbling fools in their white capes move to not allow him to enter, citing the instructions of the Maester, but he glares them down. He’s a full head taller than both, with a crown on his head. He has abandoned the days the Keep could rule him when he fired Lord Torrhen Manderly. “You serve the maester or the King, now? Move aside, or else.”

The doors to the room open for him while Jaehaera is pushing, forehead wrinkled and sweatied as she does. All her attendants turn to him, but he ignores them and their words entirely. Aegon only needs a few long steps to reach his wife, sitting beside her on their very bed.

Jaehaera lifts her eyes to him, panting as he wipes her forehead and moves silver strands from her red-hued face. Grand Maester Munkun swallows as he moves to him. “Your Grace, you shouldn’t like to stay. Births are stressful occasions—”

Aegon does not listen to a thing the man says. “Aegon,” Jaehaera pants, fingers coming to clutch his sleeve. He gives her his full palm to squeeze.

“—To both parents…” The Grand Maester slowly falters in his words.

“As I’ve noted,” Aegon answers, cutthroat. “I can stay and I will. Now mind your Queen before I find someone who does.”

The old man gulps in response, and scurries to his seat at the edge of the bed nodding. Aegon fixes the pillows under his wife’s head. The calls to push are difficult on his wife for a while, and he feels her using all her strength, the squeeze on his hand a testament to all her efforts.

Their child’s cradle is ready, standing by the window and illuminated by the sun. So many blankets woven for a child not yet born are laid within. Jaehaera had been waiting on the babe for so long, talking to her belly at times even, hoping the little one would hear.

In comparison, Aegon had been almost afraid. He had worried and angered and anxiously dealt with the idea of a child coming under his wing. Broken wings, by most accounts. He has never known how his siblings had been able to heal the way they were, raising their own family in swift pursuit. Jaehaera’s losses, his losses, had made them become ghosts in the shells of their bodies for the longest while.

But he had grown into this shell, just as he had grown into his crown, and now it is their turn to rebuild.

Jaehaera lets out a sharp yelp of pain, and Grand Maester Munkun lifts his head. “The babe is crowning,” he looks to the midwives. “Prepare the bath!”

Aegon squeezes his wife’s hand harder. Jaehaera’s eyes are bleary from tears of effort, but he feels he is the one who is in whirls of uncontrollable emotions. Jaehaera inhales in determination, readjusts her position and groans loudly one last time.

A babe’s cries deafen all other voices in the room.

“It’s a boy,” Munkun announces to the room amidst cries of new life, and then looks at him. “A healthy prince, Your Grace. An heir for the Iron Throne.”

Grand Maester Munkun is holding their son. Aegon doesn’t know how long he has been waiting on letting his tears fall. It could be from the moment he has been told Jaehaera’s water broke, and it could be from moons prior, when he had been first told Jaehaera is with child. There is some spell cast on him when he sees his boy writhe for attention, tufts of silver hair sticking to his head. It’s my…

The umbilical cord is cut, Jaehaera, despite her pain and fatigue, rises into half-sitting in a bolt. “He’s mine,” she yells at the Grand Maester, paralysing all attendants in the room. Queen Jaehaera, as the court knows her, hardly ever raises her voice. “Give him to me!”

It’s their boy, first. Before he is an heir, before he is thrust into his royal position, it’s their son.

Aegon comes up from his place, and takes his son from Grand Maester Munkun before he could give him to any of the midwives. He is a big baby, eyeing Aegon with a stare of indigo. He has small, pouty lips, and squishy cheeks as red as all of his body is.

“Our son,” he says, placing the boy in her arms. Jaehaera holds him close to her chest, and finally, the stress on her face dissipates. Tears escape her eyes, but she smiles so widely. “He has your nose.”

“Hello. I am your mama,” she tells the newborn softly. The babe’s cries calm as they speak. Aegon brings a hand to caress his face. Does he recognize their voices? Aegon hasn’t spoken to him during the pregnancy as much as Jaehaera, but the nights he did, does the boy recall them? Aegon had been so afraid for his upcoming arrival, but now he has him and he can’t look away. “And this is your papa.”

It’s my family.

And he loves it, so dearly, he will never let it go.

“Congratulations, little brother, and good sister,” he hears Baela’s voice from behind him. Both her and Jaehaera look up to her. His sister is mindful of their space, but ogles the little boy with a grin. Viserys is further back, trying to catch a glimpse of the child too. “The midwives are afraid to ruin the moment, so I must. Our prince needs to have his first bath before the water grows cold.”

Jaehaera licks her lips, rather hesitant to give the boy away. They share their reservations with only their eyes. Aegon thinks for a moment and kisses his wife’s temple before looking at all the attendants in the room. “Bring the bath here. I’ll do it.”

There are many variations of his title that come about in exclamation. ‘Your Grace’, ‘Your Highness’, ‘Your Majesty’ and so on and so forth, all complaints and concerns and whatnot. None of it matters, not even a smidge, when Jaehaera smiles at him, and gives him their boy in full trust. He holds him, swearing his arms would be secure for the boy evermore.

Because I am your father, above all else.

#andddd jaehaegon requests cleared!#this was so sweet it reminded me of the queen charlotte scene in the netflix show #i didn't know what to name bby boy so I didn't drop suggestions in the tags if you'd like lmao #jaehaegon #jaehaera x aegon iii #aegon iii x jaehaera #jaehaera targaryen #aegon iii targaryen #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #my fanfics #my fics #reqs #answered #tremendouswolfsaladranch

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mariaxxxxx · 5 months

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Chapter 5 - The pleasure and pain you offer me ( +18)

Summary: To save your nation You are given as a bride to a sea god.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, virgin!reader, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, somnophille, slight degradation, duvious consent, pregnancy, arranged marriage, inexperienced reader, abortion commented, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

A/N: Reader is heavily implied to be Mexican but i tried to keep it as free to the imagination as possible

A/N: Hi people! I hope you haven't abandoned me. I apologize for taking so long to post the new chapter. I underwent a medical procedure and am still in the recovery process.

Work count: 2.958

Serie materialist

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

You were taken to the hut where you first saw K'uk'ulkan. The man left her on the ground and walked away with impressive speed. You were still out of orbit when your maids surrounded you and began to take off your dress, jewelry and ornaments. Her hairstyle was undone leaving her hair loose. Her magnificent wedding dress was replaced by one in a light, semi-transparent fabric. With the work completed, your maids left with mischievous smiles on their lips, leaving you alone in the room.

You needed all your strength. Not physically, at least at that moment. But you had to gather all your courage and self-control during that time when you were alone in the cabin. After all, when K'uk'ulkan entered that environment, her current husband, would enjoy what was rightfully his; You. Your mother and priestesses had prepared you for this moment. They instructed him that the marriage bed could be good for both of them; You must please and be pleased too.

However, even with the instructions received, you still felt nervous, you had never even kissed a man and now you had to consummate the marriage. You knew that you would be naked in front of each other, you knew that it would touch you that he should enter You to plant his seed, and you still knew, from listening to one of the priestesses, that during the first time pain might arise. One of them told him, just before the procession, that a woman's first time hurt as much as burning her skin on a hot metal plate. Her mother scolded the priestess for uttering such foolish words, turned to You and said: “It is just a nuisance, my daughter, it will pass. How to thread a ball of yarn through the eye of a needle. It's a question of space.”

Your mother's words echoed through your mind making things even more confusing and frightening for You. To try to distract yourself, You observed for the first time, truly, the private environment that was your husband's and now hers. There were richly designed paintings on the walls, some still incomplete. You ran your fingertips between the images, admiring the lines and details. You found it in your own mind to ask what those drawings meant to the culture you now belonged to.

You were startled when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You turned around, watching your husband near the entrance. She was not as well dressed as before; his serpent-shaped ornament was taken off, as were his golden shoulder pads and bracelets and his cape. All that remained on her body were green shorts with white details.

“I apologize for this, my queen. Talokan may have harsh traditions for foreigners.”

"Everything is fine." You said as you clasped your hands in front of your body. “I don't know exactly what happened so I haven't had time to form any opinions about what it was all about.”

He found your answer funny and was ready to laugh, a lot.

“In Talokan, after the wedding, the bride and groom are undressed and taken to the wedding bed by their guests.”

“Oh!” the sound escaped his mouth. “Remind me to thank the man who brought me here safely. I wouldn’t feel comfortable being undressed in front of everyone.”

“I’ll thank him myself for not allowing anyone to undress her.”

“So...” You said, trying not to show your nervousness. “What do these paintings mean?”

“I made them myself.” He said looking at them with great pride. “They tell the story of my birth. It’s not complete yet.”

“I didn’t know my husband was such a talented artist.”

He let out a cute giggle and seemed to blush at his words. You thought his reaction to such a flippant compliment was funny.

“I appreciate the compliment.”

“I hope our children have your talent.” You blurted out.

“I hope they are as beautiful as their mother.” He is approaching You, like a serpent about to pounce on its prey, a hungry serpent before the most succulent bird. “You, my queen, are the most beautiful woman there is.”

“My husband didn’t pay close attention to the other women.” You said as you flinched slightly at his touch on your cheek.

“I never argue with myself, I know what I’m saying, I say that my wife is the most beautiful woman there is.” He whispered with the rest close to his, eliciting a smile from You.

“I appreciate the compliment, my husband.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.” He replied. “It's an observation” He starts a trail of kisses down your neck. “Come with me, my queen.”

K'uk'ulkan guided you to a part of the hut where there was a circular reed large enough to take up the entire space. You were surprised that the piece of furniture fit in a seemingly tight space. You could, one day, ask him how the architectural system of that place worked, but his thoughts were more interested in what he would do with You on the padded furniture.

"What should I do now?" You asked looking at him. His eyebrows arched into an expression of disbelief. You felt like an idiot in that moment for asking something so stupid.

“Anything my wife wants.” He said as he approached You. “Tell me what your heart desires.” He brought his face close to his, their lips almost touching.

You didn't know what your heart wanted, but your body demanded that man, needed him. You advanced on him, truly kissing him for the first time, it was awkward and awkward at first, but your husband was willing to guide you. When You finally got the hang of it, the kiss became pure desire and passion, much more than You could have expected.

K'uk'ulkan took you in his arms, without stopping to kiss you for a single moment on the way to the reeds, he put you on your feet and took off, or rather, tore off your dress, leaving you completely naked for the delight of his eyes. .

"So beautiful." He whispered as he ran his black eyes over her uncovered body.

His chin was pulled forward and your lips crashed against his once again. You returned the kiss in a few seconds. His tongue pushed her lips and they parted welcoming him very willingly. The hand that held his jaw snaked towards his and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss making your mind spin and your heart flutter. His hand grabbed his chest, searching for something to hold on to while the other was around his neck.

You gently pushed him away, panting; your eyes met his which sent goosebumps across your skin. His chest heaved, his eyelids trembled and his legs were as soft as leaves. K'uk'ulkan held You by the waist, preventing You from moving away from him. His lips didn't stay away from yours for long, they brushed against yours once again, causing waves of electricity to course through your body.

"Sweet." He murmured against your lips, opening his eyes. K'uk'ulkan seemed very happy to see his current state. He hovered over You with a beautiful smile pulled on his lips while yours could barely be felt. He slid his hand down her shoulders, his fingers caressing the soft skin.

You let out a startled cry as you fell backwards into the reeds with your husband hovering over you. He seemed happy with your reaction as the beaming smile never left him. Her husband bent down and ran his fingers over the space between her breasts, leaving a hot trail wherever he went.

“I will take good care of you, my love.” He spoke while leaning on his shins, placing himself between her legs. He kept his eyes fixed on hers as he held her foot with one hand and brushed his fingers against her belly. He was slow in his actions wanting You to feel all the pleasure he could provide. When K'uk'ulkan's fingers brushed against your intimacy You let out a sigh and a loud moan.

"My husband." You whispered, as your heart pounded in your chest. He laughed at the situation, he seemed to enjoy the way you looked miserable under his touches. He began to plant delicate kisses on your inner thigh, You shivered, and dug his fingers into the sheets beneath You.

“K’uk’ulkan… oh Gods!” You screamed when you felt tongue and lips on your pussy. You struggled as you felt the mix of strange but pleasurable reactions. K'uk'ulkan opened her legs even further and began to devour her pussy. You could feel the cool jade of his nose ornament brushing against your sensitive, wet flesh. In one quick movement he used his tongue to play with your entrance, the sudden action made your hips contract and you moved away. But before You could get anywhere he pulled You closer by your legs.

“Don’t walk away from me.” He said with a slight hint of irritation in his voice as he held your hips firmly.

“I’m sorry…” You spoke in a pathetic whisper. “I’m not going to walk away.”

“You are being sweet to me, my love. I appreciate that." He purred, his eyes fixed on yours. He dragged his lips along her skin and dove back into her pussy, which was getting wetter and wetter. You moaned and writhed at the explosion of pleasure that filled every cell in your body.

With his fingers digging into her hips, her husband dragged his tongue over and around her wet flesh. He ate You, caressing your sensitive pussy with his tongue tasting your sweetness. His hands slid into his black hair and his knees knocked against his body. A strange feeling slowly filled his body; first on the toes and went up with each stimulus.

“K'uk'ulkan...” You said urgently as the strange feeling seemed to grow more and more. “I...I...I think...” He ignored you and held your pussy even closer to his face. Licking, sucking with more desire.

One of his hands left her hips and pressed one of her breasts, squeezing and playing with the erect nipples. His tongue snaked around your pussy making you see stars. Her nails raked his scalp and her thighs squeezed her husband's broad shoulders. While his legs trembled, his heart jumped, his toes twitched and his fingers tightened on the sheets, K'uk'ulkan pulled with his lips a specific spot on her pussy, causing a violent result.

A scream of pleasure escaped your throat, heat coursed through your body trapping You in a world of wonder, your toes curled unable to hold steady and a wave of pure satisfaction filled every inch of your body. When the feeling went away, you were nothing more than a messy little thing staring at the cave ceiling. You were stuck in a trance of pleasure that you didn't feel your husband pulling out of your pussy. With the back of his hand he wiped the traces of pleasure from your mouth and beard, but he didn't do a good job: You got so wet that the remnants of your excitement remained in your beard.

With his eyes focused on her face, he ran his hand down her waist and across her ribs. The calloused palms felt his breasts and then the hands wandered to his neck. He held her jaw and gazed into her eyes, still clouded with pleasure.

“Ah my queen. My sweet and beautiful queen.” He said teasingly, a wicked smile stretched across her lips. You blushed at the words said and wondered how that man had so much power over you.

K'uk'ulkan stood back on his heels and removed the shorts he was wearing. You blushed violently and looked away when his waiting member became hard and rigid. He pushed his body until he was on top of you with his arms placed on either side of your head. He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours once more. He forced your lips apart and his tongue met his. He kissed you gently but intensely, teasing every corner of your lips until he kissed you more deeply.

His hips pressed against his as he began to rub his cock against her sensitive pussy. You sighed, separating your lips from his as his dick was pushed against his pussy. You moaned, your legs opening to have more of that contact, when you felt the head of his dick brush against a sensitive spot. Electricity shot up her spine at that action, but her mind was distracted by yet another voracious kiss from her husband. He bit your jaw, licked your chin with his tongue. You shivered in his arms from the excess stimulation on his body. You moaned his name more than once as he ground his hips into yours repeatedly.

You squirmed against his body, until your cheek was pressed against his, feeling his beard. He pressed his mouth once again against his as his hand roamed his body in gentle touches. He gently squeezed her breasts, passed her belly and guided it to the small space between her hips. Grasping the base of his cock, her husband ran the head up and down, and back again, up and down her pussy. His body shuddered against his and a huge gasp escaped You as he began to press against You.

His legs twitched trying to close before the intrusion. Sue's husband kept his knees open as he slowly entered You. When he was halfway in, You began to let out pained moans and whimpers at the opening his penis forced into his body. K'uk'ulkan muffled her sounds with gentle kisses to her lips.

“It’s okay, my love.” He murmured to You, gently. But You were convinced that he was too big for You. Your heart clenched in your chest and your belly twisted in pain when he was finally inside You. You felt his hips pressed against his. You can feel his member inside him, your breath caught in your throat. He risked a slow movement. You let out a loud moan, struggled, closing your eyes tightly and digging your nails into your husband's back. He let out a moan when he felt all of her heat envelop him.

“It hurts.” You said, trying to get rid of him on you and inside you.

“It will pass soon.” He warned as he gave another slow thrust. Even with all the lubrication present, the pain was unbearable; he was big and thick.

“Please...” You exclaimed, struggling beneath him. “It hurts.”

Without you noticing, a stubborn tear came out of your pupil and slid down your cheek. The discomfort was too much. The pain was too much. You had never felt such a sensation in your entire life. K'uk'ulkan guided his left hand over his face and wiped away the stubborn tear.

“I’ll stay put until you get used to it.” He whispered between moans and sighs.

You could feel your husband's hard cock inside you, still. It was a mixture of pressure and laceration. His lower abdomen burned with heat and heat. You looked at him bent over You, with his face pressed against your right shoulder letting out low moans. The pain didn't go away, it was as if the sensation was going to tear him in half. Her eyes closed, her fingers rubbed her nails hard across the entire length of his back.

His attention was diverted when he felt a hot liquid drip from his entrance. The curse had broken, as a trickle of blood ran down his thigh and dripped onto the sheets, a moan left his lips and echoed around you. It made you dizzy as the pain was replaced by a small tickle of something more welcoming that blossomed in your core as he remained in your torn canal.

“K'uk'ulkan...” He fixed his gaze with a sullen expression. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

His grimace was replaced by a wide smile. He brought his chest closer and removed his dick from her pussy. His lips exhaled a loud moan at the movement. A strange sensation surrounded his body that oscillated between pain, pleasure and fear.

He lowered his head and kissed you once again. He guided his cock into her pussy again, this time with one powerful thrust. He dragged his cock against her tight walls, pulling back only a fraction before repeating the thrusting motion. His face contorted with each thrust. His dick made sure you were full, feeling him touch your most sensitive spots. His eyes began to roll back, his eyelashes fluttering, as his legs began to shake with each hard thrust.

Her nails scratched his muscular back as a violent explosion of pleasure made it impossible to control her body hissing. You tightened your thighs around him as your walls clenched and rippled in that feeling of pleasure. K'uk'ulkan continued his thrusts, this time, chasing his own release.

Pleasure clouded your feelings as You felt the heat of your husband's seed being spilled deep inside You. His throat closed and You choked on the violent waves of electricity that coursed through his body. He left You filled with his hot seed, with eyes closed and limbs numb. At that moment it was as if the sun rose in the west and set in the east, the seas dried up and the mountains were blown by the wind like leaves.

#namor x reader #namor of talokan #black panther #namor x y/n #talokan #wakanda forever #namor #namor x you #namor smut #namor the sub mariner #mcu fanfiction #fic

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v-tired-queer · 9 months

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Alright y'all I need to convince my sorta-but-not-really fiance of something for our may-or-may-not-happen wedding:

The maybe-wedding isn't for . . . *checks watch* seven years, but we've already established that she wants a beautiful, elegant, enchanted forest esk wedding, and I want purple and gold details. Given the overall ✨️vibes✨️, I think it's only natural that we honor my family's (distant) heritage with a sword exchange ceremony (we'll also be doing stuff in honor of her family's heritage too) (also: capes). Yay or nea?

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smolvenger · 18 days

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The Boat in the Water: A Beauty and the Beast Story (An MCU and The Essex Serpent Crossover, Loki x Stella Ransome, Multi-Part), Chapter Three

Summary: Having lost her health and her husband's fidelity and love, Stella has nothing more to lose than her life. Then...she is swept away to another realm, to an enchanted castle. A castle whose master is a god...a god with a striking resemblance to her husband.

Warnings: Angst that turns into hurt/comfort. Discussions of cheating (I portray the Will/Cora affair as bad and Stella having some negative feelings about it, so if you don't agree or have a problem with that interpretation, this your warning right now that this probably isn't the fic for you), some blood and portrayals of illness, references to both canons, some silly, goofy lil moments.

Word Count: >7K. (have drinkies and snacks)

One// Two//Three//Four coming soon!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @anukulee @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr @jijilaufeyson

She kept crying so much, she did not hear his knock.

‘That’s what I get,’ Loki thought. He took a step away, lowering his hand, curling it into a fist by his side. ‘Mother was always the expert at these- no, I should remember, she’s not my mother at all! Damn her! Damn Will, Damn Stella, and damn me most!’

He took a moment and paced about. His cape flowed behind him like opened wings that would go nowhere. His mind kept racing. He was called Silvertongue, but when it came to consolation, why could he think of nothing to say?

She was still sobbing. It paused for a moment. She was murmuring. He pressed his ear to the door.

“God, I confess, I have just sinned against you in thought, word, and deed. By what I have done and what I have left undone. I am truly sorry and I humbly repent. For the sake of your son, Jesus Christ…”

He remembered that prayer. He overheard when he disguised himself as an ordinary village person, that was the prayer done every Sunday in that church to confess sins. Did she think she should repent for….for feeling sad about her husband’s infidelity? What kind of world made her to be what she is?

Asgard never taught its children to feel remorse over such things. He recalled Lady Sif. If Sif’s husband betrayed her for another, she would get out her sword and decapitate him without a word, without hesitation, and definitely without any regret.

But, Stella wasn’t Sif. And she was suffering. Norns, he had to…had to…think of something! Perhaps a charming little trick! Conjure little fireworks or more flowers for her! Yes, if all else failed, he could try that! Wasn’t that what mortal ladies like? He didn’t have much experience with them.

Before his courage could sink down, he went to the door and knocked louder.

“Can I come in?” he asked, projecting his voice.

“You…you may…” was her quiet reply.

When he opened the door, he saw her kneeling. Clutching the wedding gown from the chest in her arms like a child clutching a blanket Her blonde hair was a little rumpled, a few strands loose from her braid. The paths of tears were obvious down her cheeks, her face was a little red and puffy from crying.

He remained standing at the threshold.

“I…I don’t know how to say this, but…but…but I am sorry…I shouldn’t have said those things aloud. I shouldn’t have judged you. Or him.”

She nodded her head.

“You only like to be proven right-that was why…” she mused.

She was right. For being such a pitiful, pretty little pet unaware of her own torment and with no thoughts other than her husband and family...she was right. Perhaps her head wasn’t as empty as he first thought.

“Little Star, I still shouldn’t have said a word, I…I didn’t consider how much it would hurt-”

“I forgive you, Loki,” she interrupted, looking into his eyes.

I forgive you. Three words he had not often heard in sequence in his life. Much less directed at him.

Gently, he knelt down to meet her.

“This was what you wore when you married him,” he began.

She nodded sniffling.

“It’s…it’s rather pretty,” he admitted.

“Yes. I remember how. My mother gave her last warning about the marriage bed that morning, it was summer and stuck to my skin when I went outside to go to the church, my heart was racing and then he….he told me when I went to the altar that I was beautiful. And that night…the first night we…we performed the act…when it was done… he told me it was the happiest day of his life” she began.

She looked down at the heap of the wedding dress and veil. Then back at him, though it sat in a white heap on her lap. Her fists tightened as she clutched it over her, more like a soft shield than a blanket.

“You speak too ill of him. The first time he met Cora, do you know what he was doing? A farmer had his poor sheep stuck in a pit of mud. Will ran over and helped him. He didn’t stay in his study reading all day, clean and snug- no! He went out and helped pull each animal from the pit, ruining his clothes, and dragging heavy, thrashing sheep from the pit. He and the farmer got them to safety onto the higher field. He was drenched in mud when he came home, but the animals were safe…how could a bad man do that?”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up, and then back down.

“You should have seen how James sits on his lap, how John goes to his office with questions about hell, how he handles Jo and her little rebellions- you should have seen it all! I took Jo to be hypnotized once because I was curious. He fled in, insisted it stopped, and woke her up. The fear in his eyes…I feel so horrible about it now. Why? Because of how much he loved them!”

“Does he love you?” Loki asked.

“Yes, he does!” she repeated.

“But her loves her too…” he stated.

She froze, her face pale again.

“Yes…he does…”

She shook her head.

“He shouldn’t be alone. And the children should have a mother in their lives. You should see how happy he is with her. Loki, I can’t hate her! I like her. She writes me letters, she says how happy she is that she has me as her friend.”

Well, With friends like these, as the old mortal saying goes, Loki thought dryly, but he kept his mouth shut before he made the situation worse. Her eyes went down to the white wedding gown.

“I asked him to dance with her. I asked him to sit with her, see her, visit her, and write to her. So he could have someone…” she said. “It is the duty of a Christian to tear off your shirt for someone else. Of a wife to nurture and support her husband. I’ve done my duty…”

Her face then scrunched and went red and a hand went up over her face.

“And for once, it has made me unhappy!”

She began to cry. Loki did not conjure her flowers as he planned. He slowly reached his hand forward and placed it over hers. It’s what his mother, for Frigga in his heart, was still his mother, did. She barely flinched, but let him. He waited as her sobs heaved out.

“I…I did everything for him. The vicarage was always spotless. There were always visitors. I can’t recall one wrong step, or one failing I had. Men flirted with me after I was wed, and I had to dismiss them. I bore five children from him-”

“Five?” Loki repeated

“They weren’t always easy pregnancies. And the childbirths were painful, long, terrifying. And Two of them…we…” her tears broke down. “...Julianna died in my arms, And he was there for it all. They’re buried next to the church, and I think of them every day. Does he think of them too, I wonder? No…I know where and with whom his thoughts lay now… I made sure all was well in church. That his ministry was supported. I counseled and helped him through it all. I did everything for him…I even let him take a misteress…”

She paused. Her words failed at that moment. Then she spoke again, a small, broken smile on her face. The smile of one who accepted their defeat before the sword before them brought their end.

“I love him, Loki, and I’ve loved him for years. I feel like I loved him since the day I met him- who couldn’t? And I think, I wonder -I never said this aloud but, seeing him with her, and he….he’s no longer mine and….and the baser part of me wonders, whispering…when did I fail him? Then I tell myself it was because I was dying at least then…and that…it was all my fault. I pushed him onto her. Encouraged him. Told him to dance with her…”

She found a small lace pattern on the material of the wedding gown. Her fingers, compared to Loki's, seemed like doll hands. Tiny and delicate. One finger traced the pattern.

“Once I was the most important woman in Will’s life. He told me I was second to God and that the children were third. Cora arrived. And that changed. Now…I am the least important woman in all of England…it used to be that never bothered me…but now…the more I think on it, dwell on it no matter how I try not to…”

She shook her head as her hand curled up into a fist.

“I have no one to blame but myself,” she finished.

Loki bit back the urge to say it wasn’t her fault that she got ill. That her husband wanted to chase another skirt to satiate his lust since now his wife wasn’t an option. He swallowed lightly as if swallowing the thought down. She would reprimand him if he did. Claim it wasn’t obsession. It was love. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she was right too. Perhaps the truth was that it was both.

“Do not blame yourself. There is no one to blame but him and her. He shouldn’t have done that in the first place, no one was forcing him to. He should have resisted her and stayed with you until the end. That’s what a decent husband and lover would have done,” Loki advised carefully.

There was that sliver of rage inside him. He could have gone to that town and done all sorts of things to Will and Cora. Horrendous, violent things. Right. Now.

But he dared not move, dared not leave Stella alone with her tears and racing thoughts.

The one thing he did conjure was a handkerchief in his free hand. He offered it to her.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

She wiped off her face with the handkerchief and then put it down with the dress.

“It is not my place to let people in love be unhappy, it’s not my place to be jealous, to think badly of them, or if I let these thoughts consume me, Loki… I could do something…something horrible, I could hurt someone I care about…and it frightens me,” she admitted.

She grasped the handkerchief with both hands, squeezing it lightly.

“I…I don’t want to be a bad person,” she confessed.

“You aren’t a bad person,” Loki assured her.

She lifted her face, her blue eyes shining up. A little of her light regained.

“Then what am I?” she asked.

He thought for a moment, and then the answer dawned on him.

“Alive.”

She then settled. How pretty her eyes were, soft as snow. He gave her a weak, but present smile.

“Do not fret about being a bad person. You have more goodness in your little finger than I have in my whole body,” Loki assured her.

She tilted her head a bit.

“It always hurts…to be the second favorite…not chosen, not special, not equal to someone, even someone you care for…” he admitted. The painful thoughts and memories coming back up. Thor’s birthright of a crown. His birthright of a grave. “But…you are still good, after all of that. There’s a strength in being so even gods have failed at it. Even me…”

He saw her lips curl up to a small smile at his phrase.

“Thank you,” was her soft reply.

She paused, her eyes widening.

Then her body heaved and she put the handkerchief to her mouth. A series of coughs wracked her body. And when she lowered the handkerchief, to his horror, there was a pool of blood.

Stella stiffened a little blood on her lips, her breaths shallow.

“Loki…Loki please help!” she pleaded. “Please…the healers! I’m…I’m so scared…I’m going to die, I don’t want to die anymore, please!”

He immediately grabbed her and placed one of her arms around her shoulder and another beneath her legs. She felt her small gasp as he did so. How light she felt, how small. How was it that people described her in town when he overheard? Oh yes, that phrase Mrs. Ambrose used- “Oh, Mrs. Ransome! Doesn’t she look lovely every day? Oh, she is no bigger than a fairy and twice as pretty!” She did feel as light as a fairy in his arms. He got her to the bed and put the covers over her.

He lifted his hand and turned it, and her ballgown was transformed into a nightgown.

“I’m going to fetch them- stay here!”

He created a duplicate of himself to stand by the bed. It offered its hand and Stella accepted, squeezing tightly.

“So you won’t be alone! I will be right back. Here-”

He got a potion conjured in his hand. A little vial with violet-colored liquid. He offered it to her.

“This should help with the coughing, lessen it at least until they get here.”

She accepted it and then pressed it to her lips.

With his gifts of transportation and some swift horses, the healers arrived promptly. They gave her more medicine and their magic. Checked everything about her as they moved their hands over her body and repeated spells. Soon her coughs weren’t as common or present. She was more relaxed.

Loki would usually leave at this point, but he stayed. Stayed right in the room, dismissing his copy. Stayed by and watched anxiously, his brow wrinkling every time they finished an incantation.

Soon enough, they made her a little cup of tea to help calm her and ease the pain in her body. She cuddled up in the blankets, her eyes drooping down sleepily.

One healer, a woman with her brown hair in a bun approached him.

“She is stable. She will be fine, though there will be coughs and bouts of weakness. She just needs more time before we can declare her completely healed,” she reported.

Then they left. Her face looked pale and weary.

“Loki…where is the music? I miss it…from the ballroom…” she asked.

“That was from my magic,” he explained.

“Could you have it play for me, please? Or, do you know a…a song…I need to take my mind off of everything…”

Loki thought for a moment.

“I know a song…it’s rather fast, but there’s the slower bit…”

She stilled. Then he sat by the bed and held her hand and sang:

“I stormsvarte fjell Jeg vandrer alene Over isbreer tar jeg meg frem…”

He paused, a cheeky smile towards Stella. He looked right in her eyes, singing the next line right to her.

“I eplehagen står møyen den vene”

He gave her a wink, kissing her hand. Her eyes widened though from the scattered look, she didn’t understand what that line was actually saying, but her eyes did become a little bigger and her lips parted slightly, though no words came out.

“Og synger, ‘Nar kommer du hjem?’”

She did smile at that.

He made sure to slow the song down as much as he could, despite the temptation to speed it up. He finished the last line, and she nodded her head.

“The beginning was beautiful, thank you…I have one more request, please don’t think me selfish.”

“That depends on the request,” Loki teased, arching an eyebrow.

Her voice was soft and sleepy.

“Could I…have…a patch of ground in the garden? And a few seeds of flowers? They’re far easier than vegetables.”

“Why, yes, yes you may.”

She had a small smile and he felt his stomach turn a little at it.

I think I’m ready to go to sleep now. I’m grateful for you today, you were very kind to me. Goodnight, Loki.” she wished.

“Goodnight, Little Star.”

She kept the smile on her as her eyes drifted shut and she relaxed. They remained closed for a minute. Her small exhale and slowly rising and falling chest assured him that she wasn’t lost forever.

Then he left, closing the door quietly.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The Least Important Woman in the World found her patch of earth with a wooden sign on the ground and little stakes with azure ribbon around it the next day. There was a bag of flower seeds, a water cat, and a few tools. Then she got to work.

Stella stood in the muck, with an apron, a little straw hat over her braided hair, and gloves. She pulled up the dirt and shoveled.

A forbidden image came up in her mind. There, in the dirt, she imagined it was images of her husband and Cora. Happy and together. Like her years with him never mattered.

She indulged herself.

She picked up the shovel and slammed it in hard. She exhaled through her nose fast, simultaneous guilt and catharsis simmering inside her. The image of their dance was like a painting on the ground. She kept slamming it in like a blade. Releasing bits of her anger as steadily as a tea kettle whistling out steam when the water was too hot. No one was hurt, she didn’t want to hurt anyone. Yet her anguish demanded release. But she grunted as she dug out the dirt and slammed the shovel into different parts of the ground over and over again.

Loki watched with a slice of toasted bread with butter and a warm drink from inside the palace. He observed out the window, the clearest one so no color would distort what was happening. Clean and safe from his window like a prince observing his subject. Not that she noticed.

Part of him was struck as she was stabbing into the ground. There’s always something a little chilling when the sweetest person one knows turns angry. It’s sacred, terrifying. Even though he was a god who could bend shadows to his will, Loki felt his breathing become slightly more shallow.

When the ground was ready, she realized she was crying. She took one dirt-stained sleeve and wiped off her eyes. Then she wiped off her forehead as well, for she was sweating from the excursion already.

The holes were all prepared. She placed the bag of seeds in the pocket of her apron. She placed them in each hole delicately. Not minding that her skirts, hands, and a little of her face were dirty.

Loki couldn’t help but smirk, it was the dirtiest and thorniest he had seen this English Rose. He wondered what he would do if he was in her position. If his husband betrayed him for another, especially as he turned deadly sick, he would have loved to burn the entire village to the ashes.

She didn’t burn things down. She only gardened.

She patted the dirt over each little hole. Then she took out a watering can and put it over.

Wiping her hands from the effort, She would go about, checking on the various flowers. Watering them. She even got little scissors and snipped off surplus leaves. Wanting to do more than just amble about and admire plants.

She did see which flowers were blue and saw little blue pebbles in the ground in the garden- tiny rocks. She picked them up and placed them in her pocket. Then hurried back and put them in the box on her desk.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The next day, it was Stella was sitting in the room by the window. She was using the desk to write to her family. It was a pleasant room that caught the sunshine and made it appear golden and she could think of no better place to do so. She sat down, absorbed by detailing everything in letters to her children and husband about what was happening, as well as reading their responses that were delivered when the chests returned.

She was so hypnotized by it, that she didn’t notice Loki outside in the garden.

He looked up at her and placed his hands on his hips. He frowned as she smiled at one letter, a blush over her cheeks. She kissed it.

No doubt it was a letter from her philandering husband, Loki fumed silently. His face turned a bit red. Jealousy made a pit in his chest.

He looked at the free space in the outside courtyard- just right at Stella’s field of vision. A blank area of grass with no plants, not even a weed.

Grinning mischievously, he got an idea.

He conjured a mud puddle. Then he conjured a small flock of sheep to go about baaing. Right where she would see.

Her eyes were down on her letters. She had picked up a pen and was writing.

He tried to wave his hands to the sheep. Guiding them to stand in the mud puddle, though they were all at the edges of the puddle where it was shallow. They baaed quietly and looked around. Only their hooves were in the mud, but they were going about happily and very much not stuck. Though he didn’t like getting his fine leathers dirty, he got into the puddle. He smiled and placed his hands on his hips and looked up.

Her eyes were down.

He scrunched his nose and frowned. He let out a deep sigh as he got up and splashed some mud on his clothes and around his face. Then he waved at the sheep to go into the middle where there was more mud.

“Come on, my wooled friends, come on!” he urged.

One sheep finally managed to get into the deep middle.

Smiling again, he walked over to it. He picked it up easily and carried it over a mere one foot away from the mud to chew on un-muddy grass.

Loki checked the window.

She wasn’t looking. And still writing.

He got up another and lifted it up, high over his head. He made sure to be grunty and sweaty, just as she would have liked.

Her eyes were on her work.

Another wandered over.

“I didn’t want to do this, but it looks like I will have to,” Loki muttered internally.

He used magic to transform his clothes so that he was shirtless with fine pants. He knew he was beautiful and wanted her to see it.

And this time, the sheep were getting the memo and going over to the middle. They were not stuck, but going about the deeper mud contentedly. He picked up one, he lifted it high over his head so she could get a good look at his chest.

He checked

Norns, she was still writing!

He set it down on the grass. He then returned to the mud. He got one sheep and began lifting it up and down repeatedly as a weight, making sure to grunt in a way she would find a little titillating until there was a good sweat to make him glisten and her blush.

After a fifth rep, he held the sheep high over his head and put on his most winning smile. He checked the window.

She still didn’t look.

Right as he was on the verge of giving up, he lowered the sheep and it let out a rather loud, supported, unignorable “baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

Stella looked up.

Loki made sure everything was in place- the mud on him, his naked top, and he made sure to smile and pose with the sheep high over his head.

She gasped and left her desk in a hurry.

Was she offended? Perhaps so- perhaps the shirtlessness was a little too scandalous for her tastes. What was he doing being so crass? Doing something that Thor himself would do- did he really stoop that low? With a huff, he magicked back his shirt.

In a few minutes, the door to the garden was opening and out came a yellow head.

He felt as if he was set on fire. He hurried and picked up one sheep. He began to lift it up and down as it baaed.

“One hundred and one,” he began to grunt, loud enough for her to hear. “One hundred and two, one hundred and-”

“Come here, little darlings!” Stella cooed at the sheep, cutting him off.

When he turned his head, he realized she had a basket full of corn and peas and a wet towel in her other hand.

“Oh, poor dears! Please don’t eat in the garden! Here you are- you may have a little lunch!” she lured sweetly

The sheep gathered around her. Easily walking out of the mud without difficulty towards her. Taking the vegetables she gathered. She got out the wet towel, wiped off their hooves, and petted them.

“Are they alright?” she asked.

He did notice there was pink in her cheeks, hopefully at him. He made sure to have another of his famous smirks.

“Yes- they…they, uh, are,” he answered.

“The dirt on their wool will need soap and hot water, but that’s normal for them to get dirty when they go about,” she asked.

Loki looked down at the towel.

“I have the magic to clean them myself in a snap of my fingers if it pleases you.”

“Loki, could I clean a bit in the palace?” she asked.

“Clean? Why would you ever want to clean?” he asked.

One sheep walked to be by her side. She kept a hand on its head.

“I lived in a vicarage, given to us by Aldwinter to be our home. But since it was the vicarage, there were visitors so often. I knew if they judged the house, they would judge not only me but their vicar. So I made sure it was always as tidy as I could make it.”

She grinned.

“Sometimes I do not mind it at all! And I am alone in this palace with nothing to do until you decide to show up. May I clean a little? Lighten the magic some?” she asked.

Cleaning. All of his life, that was the job of the servants of the palace, never one of the princes. Loki tilted his head at her, he opened his mouth and for a second he couldn’t form words. But then he nodded his head with a shrug.

“Why…well, you are the one staying here, so I don’t see why not.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Stella did not mind cleaning a big palace or gardening. As her coughs lessened, as she got better, she found she no longer became tired so easily. She did miss her children terribly- she could imagine James running over to the kitchen and making himself sick on chocolates. She could see John with the dog running through the halls and opening every door, and hear his feet hurrying over the floors in echoes. She could see Jo going to the library and devouring book after book until she fell asleep with a novel on her face on the couch. How they would have loved this place!

Perhaps…when she was better…she could find a way to still keep in touch with Loki. She would take them on a trip. A free day of traveling, even though it was not to London but another world.

Nevertheless, she didn’t mind dusting every surface and sweeping off the floors. It was better to act rather than dwell all day.

As she was contentedly scrubbing away the floors of the main entryway one day, there was a knock at the door.

She jumped and released a gasp. If it was Loki, he would just conjure himself inside. Who could it be? A burglar? Surely, an enchanted castle could protect itself, could it not??

But then there was a voice, a booming, masculine, baritone voice that made her jump again.

“BROTHER!”

A burglar would not announce themselves like that.

She cautiously walked closer.

“Brother! Are you living here? Do not play your games, Loki, I wish to speak to you!” he stated from outside.

“On my way!” she replied. She picked up her skirt and walked over to open the door.

She opened the door to find a tall, large, muscular man with long beautiful blonde hair, blue eyes, and a blond beard. Stella was slightly taller than some women, but he hovered above her like a blonde bear. He looked down at her and smiled brightly.

“Oh…hello…” she greeted shyly.

“Why! Are you the Midgard lady they say lives here?” he asked.

“I…I am,” she replied. “I am Mrs. Stella Ransome, I’m pleased to meet you.” She curtsied small.

He shook her hand. She accepted it and found his grip matched her suspicion about his strength.

“Oh, I am Thor! God of Thunder and Prince of Asgard!”

Stella’s hand flew up to lightly touch her throat. Thor! Thor himself here! She was a devout Christian all of her life and now she had met not only one but two pagan gods! What on earth was she going to tell her Sunday School when she returned?

Thor kept talking excitedly, his handsome smile shining on his face.

“Why, how happy I am Loki had finally settled on a lady! He had several princesses in the past show interest, but they never liked him or he never liked them, and-”

“Oh no! I’m not his…his….his companion of that sort. This is a palace he made and I am only the guest here.” she answered.

Yet, what more did this god of thunder have to say? What was he like? What sort of powers? What was it like to be a god? She had no fear now, only curiosity.

“Prince Thor, would you like to stay for some tea?”

“Why, tea sounds wonderful Lady Stella!” he replied.

Calling her that made her smile. If this prince was a burglar, he was the nicest burglar she had ever met.

Giving him tea and a tray of biscuits, she told him about how she ended up here. Then she asked him to clarify more about Loki and him. Thor informed her that they were princes of Asgard, sons of King Odin and Queen Frigga and that he was the eldest brother and in line for the throne. Thor answered questions about Asgard. She brought out a sketchbook she found in the library and Thor drew the realms of the map. Stella was awed at it. Her world had been small in the marshes- to think there were so many other realms with so many other lives and people and their stories! How big everything was and she was just one tiny speck on a circle that moved between Midgard and Asgard.

Thor was munching on perhaps his tenth biscuit by now. Not that it stopped his talking.

“We hear that the Frost Giants wish to try to take over again- those are the ones in Jotunheim! They won’t touch a hair on my brother's head anymore. One day, I will find King Laufey to defeat him in battle!” he boasted, pumping his fist.

“It is natural to be protective of one’s family,” she commented.

Thor wiped the crumbs off his beard. “Maybe that’s why Loki’s been hiding since the battle- he’s scared of them!”

“Hiding?” she prodded.

Thor nodded, sucking down his tea.

“He has been away for some time. Father won’t tell me why, and Mother seems strong. But sometimes I think I hear her crying from a distance. You must find Loki when he shows up next- tell him that she misses him! That he has to come home!”

She clasped her hands on her lap and gave him a smile.

“I will be glad to do so. I have been able to persuade him into a few things recently, so I think he might listen to me,” she said.

“How good of you, Lady Stella!” Thor declared.

Before she could say, he slammed down his teacup, making her jump and gasp aloud in surprise, demanding another cup of tea.

The magic palace fixed the teacup back to normal, and Stella, her heart slowing down after that surprise, poured him another.

That evening, she waited for him at dinner. She was adorned with her hair up in a bun and another ballgown. It was navy blue and had little stars adorned across it, making her look like the night sky. She began to eat a little after her stomach rumbled.

She knew it was past sunset, but there was no response. Nothing. No sign of the trickster god.

“Loki?” she asked.

Her voice echoing was the only reply.

Enough time had passed. He required her to fulfil the bargain and here she was just as she had been every night for some time now. What was going on?

She got up from her chair. She passed the lush banquet and went down one hall. It had another marble floor, but there were windows with the red, velvet curtains drawn. There was a hall of doors.

She heard a sound like a grunt from the door in the far corner on her right. Green lights flashed from it.

She walked carefully closer to it. There was another flash of light, only it was light blue. And another frustrated huff.

She had heard similar huffs of frustration from a certain office for over a decade. There was no doubt now Loki was behind.

She was now at the door and realized it had creaked open.

Her eyes went to the opening. She gently said his name.

“Loki, wher-”

She saw him and her voice turned into a gasp, cupping her mouth

Loki was definitely there. The room was a smaller library with neater bookshelves and a fireplace. He stood in the center over a high table with a book full of runes on it.

But he looked different.

His skin was a bright blue and his eyes red.

Loki turned, his red eyes wide as he noticed her. Stella froze where she was, for she could not run. Was this some new enchantment he could do? Was he practicing and was that why he was late?

Yet his face turned into a frown, his teeth gritted. His red eyes glared at her. She should have run, she should have screamed. Yet she could not move.

He turned his back on her, his voice angry as he tried to cover his own face.

“Don’t- don’t look Stella! Go away!” he ordered angrily. The tone in his voice speared her heart.

“Are you hurt?” she insisted. “I was wondering why you were missing and-”

“I said to go away!” Loki barked. “And don’t look!”

Normally she would run. But something in her intuition told her to stay. There was a hurt to his voice that stirred her. He needed someone by him.

She walked inside cautiously.

“I…I am sorry I peeked in, but…Loki…”

His back was still turned. She could see bits of his blue neck beneath his raven curls. He stood before the fire.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

“No! I’m not hurt at all!” he replied, something of a choked sob in his voice.

He was behaving no better then Jo when she was four years of age.

“But your skin…did someone do this to you? do you need an ointment?” she asked.

She reached out a hand to gently touch his shoulder. He flinched away and then turned around. She took in his cerulean skin and how much brighter it made his red eyes appear.

“I don’t need the healers! Norns! I just- I’m just doing a spell and-”

She peeked and saw him uncurl his hand and clench it. His skin turned to white and his eyes to blue. But she saw there were still tears in his eyes, despite the stubborn frown on his head.

“What is happening?” she asked. “You don’t get this upset taking another person's form. Please, I’d like to know.”

She insisted he sit on the chair. She had him magic over another mug of tea and some sandwiches on a tray. They sat on the floor before the fire.

“Do you know what a Frost Giant is?” he asked.

“Yes. I hear they’re considered your enemy here,” Stella responded. She could discuss Thor and his family later.

Loki kept his eyes on the fire.

“All children in Asgard are taught to be terrified of them Stella…this is my true form. I’m a runt of a Frost Giant. Left behind as a baby to die in a tundra. Unwanted since the moment I was born. All of my life I was told of beasts who slaughter innocents. Only to realize I had to look in the mirror to see one.”

Stella’s eyes softened at him.

“Loki…that’s…that’s horrible…”

“I’m going to control it. Hide it. Push it away so no one will tell, no one will be able to see. I will be dead, I won’t be nothing, I’ll prove to father I’m worthy, I will!” he hissed. He slammed a fist onto his lap.

Stella leaned forward.

“May I see it again, please? Just once.” she asked.

He turned to her and swallowed. But he only turned his forearm and hand blue.

“May I?” she asked.

He gave her his arm and hand. She put her hand beneath his to lift it and then, with her other hand, pressed a finger on his blue palm.

“It’s cold. Cold like snow on Christmas, like a steam on a summer’s day, like a chapel in the morning…those aren’t bad things…” she consoled.

She traced up to his forearm. He felt himself shiver at her touch, his body stirring at the press of her hand on his skin. A tingling he kept down. She looked quietly and carefully.

“Could I have the box with my collection, please?” she asked.

He easily conjured it to the room. She lifted the lid and set it aside. She took out some trinkets- spoons, shells, bottles. She set them in the air like a painter, next to his hand.

Then she looked in and smiled. She got out two pebbles. Then she got out her diary and opened to the first page. She got out a pressed flower. Setting them in her hands, she moved them close to Loki’s hand.

“See! They’re the very color of your skin!” she sheered.

As Loki looked down, he saw she was right. The shade of the flower and the pebbles matched the skin of his Jotunheim form.

“Now, if only there was a box big enough, I could add you too!” she teased.

He did not reprimand her for her joke, even if he had every right to. He looked up at her.

“What about blue makes it your favorite color? Why collect blue things and not something…something red or green?” Loki asked.

She traced her finger again over the pebbles and flowers. She then smiled at the other miscellaneous things she pulled out.

“It’s the color of peace. The color of heaven. It represents the sky and the sea- the two things we think of when we discuss eternity. It’s rare in nature, for it is a sacred color. Blue dye once had to be imported, for it was costly. They say that Mary wore a blue shroud. It is the color of serenity…of kindness…”

She set the items down. Though his hand was as cold as ice, it felt good on her against the warm fire. His eyes shone up at her.

“Your skin is beautiful when it’s blue. And you shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”

Loki took in a deep breath and then shook his head.

“But…the Frost Giants are…are hated…hated!”

“I don’t hate you,” she replied.

He blinked, squinting his eyes further at her. She kept her sweet smile at him.

“What? You…you don’t?” he asked.

She released his hand and began gathering her things to put back into the box.

“I’m not your servant or misteress here. You saved my life and my health. Could a truly monstrous person do that?”

His eyes sparkled. She set them back in and sealed the lid. She looked back up at him, her plate of food untouched, as was his.

“Loki, if you think my husband is so hateful, so bad…. if I could love him, how could I think less of you? Not from anything you freely chose to do, but because of how you were born? I wish you didn’t discover it in this way, and despite what I have heard…I don’t agree about Frost Giants. They can be good and kind…”

“The stories…” Loki began muttering.

“Maybe the stories are wrong,” she suggested.

She handed him a cup of tea. His magic was starting to melt back to his usual pale color, except for his hand.

He noticed that the tea set was white except for the blue flowers painted all over it. Of course, it was in relation to Stella being the one staying here.

Looking down at his hand while it was still blue, he saw that the petals of the flower on his cup matched the shade of a Frost Giant's skin.

For once, at least for a minute, he did not feel ashamed.

18 notes · View notes