#AO3fanfic
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I'm getting the "Stuck in a Rut" vibe here!!! 😌
@bladeofthenebula27
#tony stark#steve rogers#steve tony#steve x tony#protective steve rogers#stony#meme#fanfiction#ao3fanfic#bladeofthenebula27
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IM GONNA DO IT. IM GONNA READ ALL THE YOUNG DUDES. (i know they die at the end)
#fanfiction#fanfic#ao3#ao3 fanfic#ao3 tags#ao3fanfic#the marauders#marauders#all the young dudes#archive of our own#james potter#regulus black#idk the rest of em#gettin ready to cry#this is gonna take a while#isnt it
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Chapters: 6/58 “You’ve Got a Friend”
Claire has a date. Jamie enlists help to win Claire back. Mary has a favor to ask.
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This is @born-to-riot but I’m on my phone so it won’t let me ask you with my account. But if you’re taking short requests can you please talk about the first time Eris lets Azriel have complete control of him (sexually and/or aftercare) like Eris is so in his head all the time I want to see some trust and just let him let go and azriel can help him do that idk (shadows as blindfolds and restraints and feeling Azriel’s scars on his skin are highly encouraged but not necessary) (also I haven’t requested a Drabble in a minute so idk if this counts) have fun :)
Alrighty, so I partially listened and partially did not. This is not sexually based aftercare, but Azriel is still taking care of Eris after something happens so I'M GONNA COUNT IT. Here's your drabble! (Which I managed to keep under 1K by 6 words and I'm very proud.)
Read "The Wall Comes Down" here on AO3, or below the cut.
TW: Mild descriptions of injuries from canon typical violence.
Azriel’s shadows were frantic as they pulled him faster and faster toward their mate. Hurry they practically yelled at him he needs us. One word kept coming through clearer than the rest, and each time he heard it, Azriel picked up his pace. Pain.
As he reached the hallway of Eris’s room, he began to see the trail of blood, leading from where he knew the Autumn Court dungeons lie, where Beron loved to take his sons. Barreling through the door, terrified about what he was about to see, Azriel tugged once more on the bond that had been silent for far too long.
His breath stopped entirely as he took in his mate, beaten and broken, lying face down on the rug in front of the crackling fireplace, as if it had taken all of this strength just to make it into the room. “Eris…” Azriel’s voice broke as he spoke, rushing to turn his mate over. “Azriel, is that you?” Eris stirred as he was jostled, wincing in pain at the bruises and cuts littering his unclothed abdomen. The faint tinge of faebane around the edges of the wounds and the rag stained the same clutched in Eris’s hand told Azriel all he needed to know.
Azriel went to reach for the cloth, but Eris pulled it away, inhaling sharply with the quick motion. “No, I can do it. I can take care of myself.” Eris rolled out of his mate’s arms, curling in on his body to try and protect himself from whatever he perceived would happen if he ever let anyone take care of himself. He couldn’t be weak, couldn’t ever show fault…not if he wanted to survive.
Eris tried to sit up, grinding his teeth together as he found the pain, pretending not to notice the shadows gathered around him, trying to ease his motions. Azriel sat back, present but silent, letting his mate work through this himself as much as he could bear. As Eris went to clean the next spot the pain was so intense he couldn’t choke down his sob fast enough. Azriel came up behind him, slowly and gently. “Please love, let me help you.”
Letting out a shaking, teary breath Eris responded, “If I let you help, you’ll think I’m weak…they’ll all think I’m weak. I have to do this Azriel…”
Azriel placed a hand around Eris’s still holding the rag, squeezing with tight reassurance. “But you are not alone, Eris, and you are not weak. Receiving help is not a weakness, it’s one of our greatest strengths. Please, let me take care of you. Let me in.” Taking several shaky breaths, Eris closed his eyes, leaning his head back to wrest on Azriel’s solid chest behind him. With each passing second, Azriel felt his mate relax into his arms, the adrenaline waning from his system as he finally started to allow himself to feel safe, to be cared for.
Moments later, Eris removed his hand from Azriel’s, leaving the cloth behind. Turning his head into his mate’s leathers Eris nodded, a soft and tentative “okay,” slipping from his battered lips as he finally gave in and allowed someone to care for him. As he let that final protective wall drop between him and Azriel and gave this last piece of himself over.
Azriel placed a soft kiss in Eris’s blood matted hair before he got to work, swiftly and surely cleaning the wounds. Eris barely made a sound, grunting softly at the particularly sensitive swipes of the cloth over his damaged body. But for the first time in all the years they’d been together, Eris allowed himself to give this last bit of him over to his mate. He let him help.
Some time later, when the wounds were properly cleaned and Eris was finally beginning to heal, Azriel carried him to the washroom, gently placing him in the tub that was already full of hot, soapy water. Strand by strand, Azriel detangled and washed his mate's hair, brushing each long piece out and cleaning it to his mate’s satisfaction. Every time before this, Eris had allowed him to watch as he cleaned himself up after an evening with his father, and Azriel had paid special attention to how he washed his hair.
This final part of his post-torture ritual seemed to be the final cleansing, a way to wash the sins of his father fully from his body before he allowed himself to sleep. Azriel had taken notes, praying to the Mother for the day that Eris would allow him to help. And now that that day had come, he was fully ready. His mate, breathing deeply in the tub, looked up at him as Azriel finished and placed the brush he’d been using on the edge of the tub.
“You’ve been paying attention.”
“It is my job, you know.”
Eris winced slightly at that, and Azriel hastily added on.
“You are not a task Eris. Caring for you is not a burden. It’s a privilege. And I’m honored you let me close enough to let me help you.” He tacked on the finally aspect of that statement in his mind, but Eris heard it anyway.
“Well, I’ll be checking your work Shadowsinger, but it seems as if you’ve done…adequately. For a first try that is.”
Azriel’s heart swelled for in this banter, the love language that was uniquely their own, he heard the unsaid words. Thank you for waiting. Thank you for knowing. And thank you for helping.
“As long as I get to keep trying,” Azriel said as he wrapped his mate in a towel, and helped him back to his bed where he’d rest while he recovered from the last of his wounds. But this time, he wouldn’t handle it alone. He’d rest safely held in his mate’s arms, cocooned within the fortress of his wings.
#LDdrabbles#LDasks#azris#azriel x eris vanserra#acotar fanfic#acotar#acosf#pro eris vanserra#azriel's shadows#ao3 writer#ao3fanfic#azris fanfic#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#acotar azriel
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Fandom: Cult of the Lamb (Video Game)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: The Lamb & The One Who Waits | Narinder, The Lamb & Ratau (Cult of the Lamb), Follower(s) & The Lamb (Cult of the Lamb), Heket & Kallamar & Leshy & The One Who Waits | Narinder & Shamura, Aym & Baal (Cult of the Lamb)
Characters: The Lamb (Cult of the Lamb), The One Who Waits | Narinder, Shamura (Cult of the Lamb), Heket (Cult of the Lamb), Kallamar (Cult of the Lamb), Leshy (Cult of the Lamb), Ratau (Cult of the Lamb), Aym (Cult of the Lamb), Baal (Cult of the Lamb), The Fox (Cult of the Lamb), Follower(s) (Cult of the Lamb), Original Follower Character(s) (Cult of the Lamb), Haro (Cult of the Lamb), Clauneck (Cult of the Lamb), Kudaai (Cult of the Lamb), Chemach (Cult of the Lamb), Helob (Cult of the Lamb), Plimbo (Cult of the Lamb), Amdusias (Cult of the Lamb), Valefar (Cult of the Lamb), Barbatos (Cult of the Lamb)
Series: Part 1 of Cult Of The Lamb - Pathways of Altered Fates
Prelude - Complete.
Part 1 - Darkwood Arc - Complete.
Part 2 - Anura Arc - Incomplete.
Part 3 - Archor Deep Arc - Incomplete.
Part 4 - Silk Cradle Arc - Incomplete.
#cotl#Cotl Lamb#Cotl Narinder#Cotl Ratau#Cotl Baal#Cotl Aym#Cotl Forneus#Cotl Fanfic#Ao3fanfic#Cotl Kallamar#Cotl Shrumy#Cotl Sozo#Cotl Shamura#Cotl Midas#Cotl Helob
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Guys......that Last Airbender Rottmnt crossover idea is growing
At this point, there's a 98% chance that I'm going to write/post it after Recoil. I even have the following proof of concept thing:
"For the last time," Raph sighs, "I am not a Spirit!"
Toph hums and balances on the edge of the stone bridge. "Sounds like something a spirit would say."
The buzzing mass of energy groans and Toph smirks. He's so easy to rile up. Things have been different since he appeared in the middle of a mind-numbing lesson. He burned the yard with his appearance, leaving once soft blades of grass to crumble to ash beneath her feet. He's still burning now, or that's how it feels. A simmer of heat or energy in every step he takes.
Well, Toph's not really complaining. She's been able to go outside for the first time in years since her parents proclaimed him to be her 'protector.' A rock moves beneath her foot and she stumbles with a bit of exaggeration. Heck, she even spins her arms like some of those haughty-taughty girls at the arena.
The spirit doesn't even look her way or move to help. Toph straightens with a snort and a growing warmth in her chest. Some protector.
"I need to find my brothers," Raph mumbles. "That's if they're even here."
"And then head back to the spirit world."
"It's not the spirit world!"
"Right," Toph grins. "This so-called 'other dimension' with benders."
"There are no benders in my world."
Toph reaches and places a hand on scaled skin. Huge muscle twitch under her palm and the spirit stops. "No benders?"
"Yes!"
she nods. "Like the spirit world."
Toph cackles as Raph throws his arms up with a scream.
#ao3fanfic#ao3#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles movie#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#atla#avatar the last airbender#crossover#crossover fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#proof of concept#atla fanfic#tmnt#rottmnt#toph#tmnt raph#a tale of spirits
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Attack on Prime Writing Update:
RETALIATION III IS COMPLETED!
WITH 16,781 WORDS! IT'S DONE! THE PATHS I HERE I COME!
Also, after months of searching, I FINALLY GOT A JOB!
That might mean the schedule my change because I have to make a commute, but we will see! It's still a well paying job! YES!
Again, here's the schedule:
The Paths I (October)
The Paths II (November)
Last Ditch Effort (December)
Guren No Yumiya (January)
Making peace (February)
After the War (March)
An era of peace (April)
Goodbyes (May)
In between OVA (TBD)
Wild life OVA (TBD)
In regards to posting the next chapter, I will post it later tonight! I also have to work on the Beloved Timeline Pilot! And I have some ideas for the Autobot Anthology, because I've been putting that on the back burner for a while now.
ANYWAY! YEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSS!!!! WHOO!
#attack on prime#transformers prime#tfp#snk#attack on titan#aot#shingeki no kyojin#ao3#writing update#writing#my writing#writing process#fanfiction#ao3fanfic#fanfic
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The atmosphere in the quaint live music bar was as stuffy as a poorly ventilated attic, thick with the kind of smoke that makes you wonder if there’s a fog machine hidden somewhere. Armitage Hux, a fixture in this dimly lit scene, was perched in his favorite corner spot, an eagle eyeing his territory. His mission? Scouting for the next big thing. Tonight, his company was a glass of Irish scotch and a cigarette, the latter contributing its share to the atmospheric haze.
After a 3 year long writer slump I finally managed to write a Kylux AU short story. It's a beginning, in hopes that the Kylux fandom isn't dead yet. Follow the link if you want to check it out.
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Steddienation help a girl out. I swear I read a fic where Steve and Eddie have been hanging out and one night Steve leaves Eddie's trailer but before he does, without thinking, he just kisses Eddie and gets into his car until it ACTUALLY REGISTERS what he just did and then he goes back to Eddie's trailer and Eddie is still just standing there in shock. And Steve is just like I have no idea why I did that- my brain is so used to kissing my dates goodbye at the door?? I remember nothing else about the story, but does anyone know this fic??
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Senses and Sensibility
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything but those poor words.
Summary: Just a round of twenty questions in a lazy afternoon.
Hey everyone, first of all thank you so much for the notes and kind words over the previous parts of this trilogy, you’re awesome!
Here’s part three, much like part two it can stand alone, but I really think it’ll be more enjoyable if you have read part one and two first (you know, for the built up and all).
It’s an Avatrice story, so if it ain’t your thing, don’t read.
Enjoy,
AO3
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Ava’s heavy sigh echoed in the small apartment. It was a warm, lazy afternoon; usually she’d enjoy reading but she couldn’t really focus on her book, her mind was just restless.
“Bea?”
She called softly; putting her book on the nightstand, she then turned on her side so she could face Beatrice.
Beatrice was lying on her side, her head resting on the palm of her hand. It was nap time since they would be working the night shift today. Ava knew she should let her rest but she felt a bit hyper right now.
Beatrice had put her through the ringer during their training session all morning. Ava should be worn out but instead she was barely tired, courtesy of the halo.
“Hmm?” came the reply with a small delay.
Ava watched Beatrice dozing off and grinned softly because there was something immensely sweet about an unguarded Beatrice.
“What’s your favourite colour?” she finally asked the first question her mind latched on.
There was no response. Beatrice’s eyes were closed, her breathing soft and even. Ava guessed she had gone back to her slumber, yet another sign that she was exhausted. Oh well, Ava was fine with watching her sleep, observing Beatrice had become one of her favourite hobbies.
There was a soft intake of breath after almost two minutes. “Prussian blue,” Beatrice answered with a sleep-tinged voice. “…It’s a shade darker than royal and navy, I think…” another long pause. “It feels strong, and intense… I like it,” Beatrice continued, still half drifting in and out of sleep. “What about you?”
A grin spread wide onto Ava’s lips. She liked the fact that Beatrice never questioned where her mind went or why. No matter how random and odd the topic, Beatrice always indulged her and followed her train of thoughts as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Ava gave the question a thought. “I don’t know if I have a favourite,” she pouted pensively. “I like shades of blue-green like teal, ocean blue… or lagoon… I also like purple… and I like shades of green like kiwi and jade.” Her mind started reeling with its own colour wheel. “Oh! I like seashell, it’s kind of a pinkish orange… and melon, I like melon!”
The list didn’t stop there, Ava found herself mentioning at least thirty other hues. Beatrice chortled quietly. “So, basically, you like every colour.”
Ava was about to agree but then frowned. “Actually… I don’t know about yellow; I have a weird vibe when it comes to yellow,” she mused.
Beatrice slowly blinked her eyes open, giving up on her nap. “Weird? How so?”
“I don’t know… it’s neither cool nor warm… it… it…” Ava struggled to find her words. “…I don’t know… it just doesn’t speak to me. I mean, I don’t hate it, but I’m not sure I like it either.”
Beatrice tried to figured her own opinion regarding the colour. “Now that you mention it, I get the point. I think it can be good to look at, but I don’t think I’d like wearing it.”
She watched Ava’s face lit up suddenly with that glint indicating that she just remembered some interesting fact about the topic at hand. “Did you know that it’s said to be one of the hardest colours to work with?”
“Really?” Beatrice felt her eyebrows rise in surprise.
“Yep, I read it in an art theory book, can’t remember which, anyway… painters would do bowls of yellow fruits to show off their skills because it is one of the most difficult shades to paint with,” Ava explained. She barely took a breath before continuing.
“Fun fact, if they’d paint a peeled yellow fruit, the peel would actually be longer than it should be just so they could… flex on other painters, so to speak. I had never noticed it but upon reading about it, I’ve looked at some paintings from the 17th century and I can confirm that it is true,” Ava smirked.
Ava’s mind never failed to amaze Beatrice. She never knew where it’d take her, but it was always surprising. It could be light, or silly (or truly dumb) reflexions at times and the next they could dive into the depth of existentialism, knowledge and philosophy. One thing for sure, it was always an entertaining ride.
“Okay, flying or breathing under water?”
Beatrice rubbed at her eyes lazily to get rid of the last cobwebs. Ava was on a roll now, and apparently, they were in for a fresh round of twenty questions.
Beatrice had never been one to confide in others, too afraid to reveal her flaws, to be reminded how ‘abnormal’ she was. That was a pain she couldn’t bear to face again, so she had learnt to keep things to herself.
She was a good confidant, though. Somehow, it was easier to carry the others’ secrets than her own. Yet with Ava, things were different. She did confide in Ava, she did talk about her past, in fact she couldn’t remember a single time she had denied Ava an answer to any of the question she’d ever ask.
It occurred to Beatrice that they shared easily with one another. There was something about Ava that made her reach out and made her want to lower her walls a bit. Perhaps, part of it was a product of her protective instinct. While she hadn’t been exactly thrilled at Ava’s arrival in their row, she had wanted her to feel, if not welcome at the very least accepted. It hadn’t taken long for her to see beyond Ava’s constant goofiness.
Ava joked around all the time, but it was nothing more than a defence mechanism. From what she knew about Ava’s past, finding the funny in anything was what had kept her going for all the decade she had spent at the orphanage. It all made sense once she thought about it. Ava had had nothing; her wits, her humour, her emotions, those were among the very few things she had had control over.
Beatrice had paid attention and she had seen past that seemingly inability to take anything seriously. Ava was sensible and sensitive, observant and smart, soft and caring, generous and strong, oh so strong.
“What’s your favourite sense?”
The question brought Beatrice back from her reflexions. “Uh… that’s a very good question,” she frowned. “And a tough one at that… I don’t know actually, I’ll have to give a thought. What about you?”
Ava stared at her for a moment with an intensity that almost made her feel uncomfortable, then she smiled as if she held the secret of the world.
“I don’t have one. I love them all.”
Beatrice chuckled. “Of course, you do.”
She’d always found it endearing how Ava apprehended the world with open arms and mind, how she just appreciated everything and took everything in like a wonder.
“Yes, I do,” Ava confirmed.
It was true, Ava loved all her senses. She had spent over a decade experiencing the world through tv and books, in a grey room where colours barely changed with the seasons. After coming back to life everything was heightened to the point of constant sensory overload. Maybe it was a side effect of the halo, or maybe it was just the stark contrast of going from barely feeling anything to feeling everything, whatever the case every single day she was grateful to feel, simply feel the world through her senses.
Beatrice made that sensory overload tenfold, in the best possible way. Ava didn’t know when or how it came to be; it was just a fact. She had that epiphany a while ago.
“And with good reasons too,” she added with a smile.
There was a pause, a hesitation during which she pondered if she should say what was on her mind, if Beatrice was ready to hear it. She bit her bottom lip, looked away for a moment.
When her eyes settled back on Beatrice, she leapt over her doubt and set her words free.
“I favour my sense of taste because I can enjoy your food,” she said. “I love your cooking. It’s incredible. It is somewhat amazing how good you are at cooking considering the food we had at the OCS. No offence, it was okay, but it barely made it above ‘bland’ as far as taste go. Now, your cooking? The most wonderful trip for my tastebuds.”
Beatrice blushed at the compliment. “Thank you.”
“I favour my sense of hearing because I love the sound of your voice. You’re always so calm, your voice is soothing. I also love the sound of your laughter, it’s truly glorious.”
Ava did love hearing Beatrice laugh; she liked it so much she made it her mission to have her laugh at least once a day.
Beatrice felt her face getting even warmer at Ava’s words.
“I also love it when you sing. I don’t think you realize it but when you’re hyper focused on something, you sing. It’s sweet, really. And I enjoy it quite a lot.”
This time, oxygen left Beatrice’s lungs unexpectedly. She felt her eyebrows rise in astonishment. Just how much did Ava pay attention to her?
Ava seemed amused by her reaction and kept on. “I favour my sense smell because…” she leant a bit forward and whispered. “I like your fragrance, orange blossom or cotton blossom…depending on the soap you choose on any given day.”
Beatrice’s heart was pacing an odd beat now. She had to remind herself to breathe.
“I favour my sense of sight because… I like watching you. I think you’re fascinating. It’s amazing to see you pour yourself in the simplest or smallest task; like everything deserved your full attention. I can watch you for hours and always find something new about you. You always move with poise and grace and… I think you’re beautiful.”
Beatrice felt naked under Ava’s gaze. She had never had anyone looking at her with so much affection and admiration, it made her feel warm and… and…whatever it was she felt, it was too much.
“I favour my sense of touch because…”
With lightning speed, Ava put her hands on her hips and squeezed them before launching a tickling attack. Beatrice squealed in surprise then started to wiggle in a vain attempt to escape, laughing heartily.
“Mercy! Mercy!” she begged trying to push Ava’s hands away. She was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
Ava was enjoying the sound so much she didn’t stop right away. She had sensed that Beatrice was overwhelmed and figured some levity was needed.
Beatrice was panting, her cheeks hurting a bit from her hysterical laughter. Of course Ava would find a way to force her to breathe again.
“I favour my sense of touch because I love making you scream with my fingers.”
“Ava!”
Watching Beatrice’s eyes almost popping out of their sockets while she gasped in shock and her face reddened was absolutely delightful. If the ability to speak was a sense, Ava knew she’d favour it because she adored teasing Beatrice or saying anything that’d make her lose her composure.
“Yeah, that did sound a bit dirty,” Ava waggled her eyebrows.
“You’re incorrigible,” Beatrice chastised her or at least she tried, because she was grinning even though she clearly didn’t want to.
“And proud of it.”
Beatrice rolled her eyes with mock exasperation. She was grateful for Ava’s goofiness and sense of humour. She was grateful for Ava just being Ava.
Someone had told her once that she was contained, which was a painfully accurate statement she could admit. She had spent a lifetime learning to always be in control of her emotions just so she wouldn’t get hurt by anything or anyone, so letting go didn’t come easy to her.
She liked having fun, joking around, laughing and just letting her hair down like anyone. It simply was counter intuitive to her nature. She had built herself to be serious, disciplined, to be stern and tempered because it was the only version of herself that the world had deemed acceptable.
When she was around Ava though, the iron grip she had over herself and her emotions always loosened. Ava always brought forth her softer side.
“I favour my sense of touch because I love hugging you… and showing you affection… I love how warm and soft you feel,” Ava said seriously.
Trust Ava to surprise her. When she had asked her question, Beatrice had figured she’d proceed to find her favourite sense by elimination. Which sense could she live without? Ava had tackled the question differently, why did she favoured each of her sense to begin with.
Under that new light, Beatrice understood Ava. It really was logical not to have a favourite sense. Now that she thought about it. She favoured all of her senses for the same reasons Ava favoured hers, albeit in different ways.
She loved watching Ava, to see her whole face lighting up whenever she'd take a scenery in or found beauty in the most mundane things. She just loved Ava’s seemingly perpetual state of amazement.
It was easy to forget that for all the knowledge she had soaked in, nurturing her brain, most of the time Ava was literally experiencing the rest of the world for the first time.
Beatrice couldn't imagine not hearing Ava laugh, or the excitement colouring her voice when she'd speak of one thing or another, or that mischievous note when she did a bad pun.
Some nights Ava would have nightmares. She’d toss in her sleep in a clear state of distress. Beatrice would take her in her arms and hold her tight against her. Then she’d slowly breathe in and out until Ava mimicked her unconsciously.
Once Ava would settle down, Beatrice would breathe her in, let Ava’s scent fill her lungs. It was quite intoxicating and she was addicted to that scent. Beatrice loved those moments because they were only hers. Ava never woke up when she was holding her and she’d always let go of Ava long before the morning.
They had shared a few kisses since the one she had given to Ava in the kitchen. Ava had been the one initiating them, they were always soft and almost chaste. One thing was certain: she absolutely loved the sweet taste of Ava’s lips.
Ava was tactile. Beatrice loved her sense of touch because she could feel Ava’s displays of affection. She just loved feeling Ava’s soft hands on her. Ava could convey so much with the simplest touch. Beatrice craved those touches, they always made her feel grounded, complete.
Yes, Beatrice favoured all her senses as well, even though she couldn’t voice it all aloud.
“As you can now see, it is impossible for me to have a favourite sense,” Ava concluded with a grin.
“You did make interesting points,” Beatrice agreed.
Ava’s gaze intensified, the emotion shining through it robbed Beatrice’s lungs from oxygen. Ava palmed her cheek and when she spoke again her tone was soft but serious.
“I love all of my senses because they enable me to love you, completely.” Ava caressed Beatrice’s skin softly. “And I do, Bea. I love you.”
Beatrice couldn’t remember ever hearing those words before. She was fairly certain she never had.
Nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared her to hear those words.
All she had ever been prepared for was rejection. She understood the why and the how of rejection: she was ugly, flawed, unworthy, broken.
Ava knew all that. Ava could see the ugly, the flawed, the unworthy, the broken. She knew, she saw and yet there was no teasing in her voice, no trace of uncertainty.
The inner voices in Beatrice’s head kicked in to tell her she was unworthy but then something happened. Ava’s words kept echoing, silencing the rest until it was the only thing she could hear.
I love you.
Beatrice could feel Ava’s love radiating from her, like a warm, fuzzy current. It engulfed her, filled her up to the brim and suddenly it was like she was holding onto a live wire: every cell of her body was pulsing. She was overwhelmed, so much so she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t put what she felt into words. It was too much, just way too much and it was petrifying. Were people wired to actually feel so much at once? Because she sure wasn’t.
It took a minute for her to be cognizant of her heart pounding so violently in her chest she felt on the verge of imploding.
And then, for the first time, her voice was the loudest in her head. It was boisterous, screaming: I love you, too.
Ava watched emotions flashing through Beatrice’s eyes one after the other: shock, incomprehension, fear, elation, wonder…
She could hear the gears in Beatrice’s head turning, she could easily imagine what was going on in there. She simply waited, rubbing her thumb gently against Beatrice’s cheek.
She knew she had been heard. She also knew Beatrice needed to come to acceptance of her words on her own.
Ava had no doubt about her feelings. She had thought she was in love once. Mary had dismissed her as being hormonal and though offended at the time, now that she had gained perspective, she could say Mary had been right.
She knew because what she felt for Beatrice was a universe away from what she had felt for JC. She had been very fond him that was for sure, but it had definitely not been love.
She loved Beatrice. It was that simple. Her love was unwavering, unconditional, all encompassing. It was a bit terrifying because it was so vivacious, she could barely contain it all. She wasn’t scared to feel that much though, if anything she felt… settled, like everything made sense.
Beatrice’s shaky intake of breath broke her out of her musings. She watched the inner struggle in those beautiful hazel eyes.
Then it happened. Ava saw the very moment things shifted. The moment Beatrice finally took it all in, and understood that it was all real and true.
Tears pooled in Beatrice’s eyes and they were shinning with marvel. Ava saw her lips moving but no words made it out.
Ava stayed silent. She knew how hard it was for Beatrice to lean into her emotions and trust that what she was feeling was fine. She also knew that while Beatrice was winning small battles against her inner demons every day, she still had to find her own voice.
It was okay because Ava didn’t need to hear Beatrice tell her she loved her back. She already knew because Beatrice told her so every day whether she was conscious of it or not. She told her through the way she took care of her, through the way she looked at her, smiled at her… it was all the tiny things. Ava had learnt to listen, and she heard Beatrice as clear as if she was screaming at the top of her lungs.
Beatrice took a deep breath to reign over her emotions.
Looking at Ava again, she made another attempt to speak but the words remained stuck in her throat. She briefly cursed her inaptitude to voice her feelings.
Oh well, there were other ways to communicate.
Ava was about to reassure Beatrice but words never made it past her lips. Beatrice surprised her with a kiss so fierce it sent her in orbit.
Beatrice kissed Ava with everything she was, pouring her heart out. She loved her too, by heavens she loved Ava too.
When Ava laughed into their kiss, Beatrice knew she had heard her silent declaration loud and clear.
They broke the kiss, both beaming with incommensurable joy. Beatrice could feel tears streaming down her cheeks but she didn’t care.
She might never feel deserving of Ava’s love, but she was no fool and she intended to hold onto that precious gift with dear life. More importantly, she’d show Ava that her love was reciprocated any way she could, even if it wasn’t with words. Without hesitation, she kissed Ava again.
Ava loved Beatrice.
Beatrice loved Ava.
That was that.
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Thanks for reading!
#warrior nun#warriornun#warrior nun fanfic#warriornunfanfic#avatrice#ava silva#sister beatrice#ava x beatrice#ava x sister beatrice#avasilva#sisterbeatrice#avaxbeatrice#warriornunfandom#warrior nun fandom#ao3fanfic#sweet#romance
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This is what it’s like to be in a polygamous relationship with Penguin and Shachi.
This is pure smut so I hope you enjoy it, like, really enjoy it. Hihi.
*credits to this beautiful Penguin and Shachi fan art by @alfheimr (tumblr) [i hope its okay that i used your art in my OP fanfic smut huhu]
#penguin#reader#shachi#onepiece#onepiecefanfic#onepiecefanfiction#fanfic#romance#fluff#smut#puresmut#penguinxreaderxshachi#polygamous#poly relationship#love#ao3#ao3OP#ao3onepiece#ao3fanfic
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AO3 Fic Writer Game
I saw this floating around the tags and wanted to join in. I know our fandom is small, but we are mighty 👑
Please do not compare yourself to others works, you are amazing and unique! This was just for fun! Lady V loves you 💜
How many works do you have on AO3? 9
What’s your total AO3 word count? 53,459
How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? 2; Star Wars and Bad Omens
What are your top 3 fics by kudos?
Hotel Hijinks (My first BO fic) - 19
A Duet of Fates (my first fic ever)- 17
Dive (Day one of 30 Day of Bad Omens) - 16
Do you respond to comments, why or why not? All the time and pretty much immediately. I LIVE FOR THE COMMENTS!
What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? The Battle Within, was the darkest fic I've written. But my current WIP, Lost in the Concrete Jungle might be darker.
Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written? I guess technically Lost in the Concrete Jungle is a loose crossover of Bad Omens and Star Wars. I'd count it lol. If you ever imagined the members of Bad Omens in the Star Wars Universe definitely check out Lost in the Concrete Jungle.
Have you ever received hate on a fic? No, thankfully not yet.
Do you write smut? If so what kind? Hell yeah, that's pretty much all I write. I write some kinky shit.
Have you ever had a fic stolen? God, I hope not .
Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but I think it would be cool!
What’s your all time favorite ship? I gotta give it to Relyo for starting it all for me. The sequels changed my life.
Whats a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? I could never leave something hanging, well at least I haven't experienced that yet. I have gone months without updating but so far I've finished all of my WIPs.
What are your writing strengths? I think some of my strengths are my creativity in different scenes and story line and dialogue. (i'm probably downplaying my strengths tbh)
What are your writing weaknesses? I struggle with conveying different emotions and I want to get better at stretching the scene with more desciptions. I want the experience to be immersive but it makes my brain hurt lol.
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? If you know the language for it! I am only fluent in english so that's what I read and write.
What was the first fandom you wrote for? The first fandom was Star Wars, specifically prequel era with Anakin and Padme.
What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written? I know it says written as in past tense, but I am loving exploring Lost in the Concrete Jungle. My fav Bad Omens one shot though is Impolite. I did a lot of research on Service submission before starting and the fact that it has evolved into a poly situationship is really cool.
Feel free to join, no pressure tho!
Tag Team; @crimson-calligraphyx (InnocentCanCry) @sinkingteethinwhitenoise (cryingabtab) @measuredingold (markthegrave) @concreteburialplot (burninlove)
If I missed anyone that wants to join please do!
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"Hey there," the woman said with a sly grin. "I couldn't help but notice you're a Chiefs fan. My name's Ava, and I'm a die-hard London Irish fan. You ready to watch your team get crushed?"
Beatrice rolled her eyes. "I'd be more worried about your team, if I were you."
Ava laughed. "Oh, come on. We both know the Chiefs are going down. But it's okay, I'll still be your friend afterwards."
Beatrice glared at her. "I don't need friends like you."
Ava raised an eyebrow. "Ouch. You're feisty. I like it."
Bea and Ava are fans of rival rugby teams and meet at a game, in The Rugby Match
#ao3#fanfic#warrior nun#avatrice#avatrice fanfic#ao3fanfic#warrior nun fanfic#ava silva#sister beatrice
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Chapters: 17/18 “Hastings”
Claire says her goodbyes before leaving for Hastings. Jamie reveals his plan.
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Hello! I am the author of Let It Be Enough on Ao3 as well as a few other Quaritch-centric fics.
#Quaritch#Miles Quaritch#Colonel Quaritch#FanFiction#Ao3FanFic#OC Petra Hart#Avatar#Avatar 2#Avatar FanFiction
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Fandom: Cult of the Lamb (Video Game)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: The Lamb & The One Who Waits | Narinder, The Lamb & Ratau (Cult of the Lamb), Follower(s) & The Lamb (Cult of the Lamb), Heket & Kallamar & Leshy & The One Who Waits | Narinder & Shamura, Aym & Baal (Cult of the Lamb)
Summary:
My own idea for the story of Cult of the Lamb. This idea bit and bit HARD, refusing to let go until it was written.
Prelude - Complete.
Part 1 - Darkwood Arc - Complete.
Part 2 - Anura Arc - Incomplete.
Part 3 - Archor Deep Arc - Incomplete.
Part 4 - Silk Cradle Arc - Incomplete.
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