#so please stop fucking punishing her in fics where those ships DO get together
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i think some of you need to sit down and interrogate why you dislike sabina so much because from where i’m sitting a lot of it is just thinly veiled misogyny. you don’t have to ship her with alex and you don’t have to like her but i’m so tired of people treating her as nothing more than an obstacle to their ship of choice and then trying to shift the blame onto horowitz for writing her poorly when there are literally dozens of male side characters who we know nothing about that get more fandom attention than sabina does. she’s not some evil irredeemable wench for struggling to support alex after the events of eagle strike. she’s a fifteen year old girl whose entire life was upended and has to watch someone she cares about be blackmailed into putting himself in danger again and again. if you can forgive yassen for sending alex to scorpia or k-unit for treating him like shit in brecon beacons, why can’t you forgive sabina for pulling away and trying to live a normal life. you can find her annoying or boring or pointless as a character, but alex very clearly cares about her. acting like he doesn’t says more about your attitudes towards female characters than it does horowitz’s lol
#alex rider#i’m not going to deny that she was badly written at times#especially after eagle strike#but that’s not her fault as a character. that’s on horowitz for being weird about women#the truth is that sabina is one of the only characters to point out alex’s own hypocrisy to him#she was the only person who suspected something was going on before he told her#her family literally took him in after he thought jack died#i can totally understand not shipping her with alex.#but you cannot deny that they care about each other. alex didn’t leave san francisco because he didn’t care about her#it’s not sabina’s fault that he’s traumatised and it’s not her fault for wanting to move past her own trauma#she didn’t do anything wrong. and like i’m sorry but this is anthony horowitz we’re talking about#he erased the mention of a gay couple just EXISTING in christmas at gunpoint when it got reprinted in secret weapon#i promise that even if sabina never existed yalex/tomlex/fredlex still wouldn’t be canon#she’s not getting in the way of anything.#so please stop fucking punishing her in fics where those ships DO get together#just stop punishing her in general. you dont have to write about her if you dont like her
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Could I please request a fic of Aizawa finding out that Mitsuki is an abusive parent and adopting Katsuki? Bonus if it includes KiriBaku and EraserMic, but perfectly fine without.
I'm not sure if this is exactly what you meant, but here!
Words: 1317
Warnings: Abuse, Swearing
Ships Included: Kiribaku, Erasermic
Requests/Asks: Still Open
Not All Love Runs By Blood
"Katsuki, you disgrace!" Mitsuki slapped her son across the face. "If you weren't so goddamn weak, maybe those villains wouldn't have kidnapped you!"
He stayed quite, tears of anger and frustration filled his eyes as he started to consider the fact that it was his fault after all.
It was a while back the LOV had kidnapped him, but his mother still brought it up, reminding him of everything that had happened.
He grabbed his bag off the floor and went straight to school. He didn't bother fixing his hair or his uniform. He entered the building, quickly going to his classroom to sit at his desk.
He didn't even realize that he was late at that point, his mother keeping him longer in the house caused time to pass faster.
"Bakugo, you are late!" Iida shouted.
"Good for me." Bakugo replied, rolling his eyes at his classmate and sitting down.
Aizawa didn't say anything, he remained quite, before continuing his homeroom lecture.
About a week before, Mitsuki had decided that her son was no longer allowed to stay in the UA Alliances, which meant he had to go home every day after school. It's not what he wanted, but his mother was using it as punishment for being such a "failure" as she says.
At the same time the boy wanted class to end so he could leave, but also not wanting it to so he didn't have to go home.
Some time had passed and the bell rang. They had training on Ground Beta, but ever since Bakugo had been going home more often, his mom found more reasons to hurt him, physically and verbally, meaning he had a lot of bruises on his body.
His new hero costume was doing him a favor though. The hero department added long sleeves to the shirt since the weather was getting colder, but Bakugo saw this as an advantage in more ways than what it was for.
He went to the locker rooms and changed in a corner, looking at the marks, scratches and bruises she had left.
"Hey Katsuki!" His boyfriend, Eijiro Kirishima approached.
"Oh, hey Dumb Hair." He replied, quickly getting his hero suit on.
"Um, where those bruises I saw?" Kirishima asked
'Fuck' he thought to himself.
"Probably not, I mean I do get them sometimes from training." He replied, lying.
"Oh, alright then," Kirishima wasn't sure if he believed him or not, but he brushed it off.
"Anyway, we should totally team up if we're going to be choosing teams today!"
Bakugo smiled slightly, "Sure."
Kirishima kissed his cheek and went outside.
He soon joined his classmates outside and stood there, waiting for Aizawa and Allmight to tell them what to do.
"Everyone, choose a partner as you will all be fighting against each other. I will go through the rules in a moment." Aizawa shouted out.
It didn't take long for the following teams to form,
Midoriya and Uraraka
Todoroki and Iida
Bakugo and Kirishima
Yaoyorozu and Jiro
Tsuyu and Ashido
Kaminari and Sero
Ojiro and Hagakure
Mineta and Shoji
Aoyama and Tokoyami
Sato and Koda
Aizawa cleared his throat "Your teams are final. You will have half an hour to trap your opponents in these nets," Aizawa said, meanwhile Allmight handing out small packets of nets inside
"Deliberately causing a big injury on someone is prohibited. You may begin."
All teams ran off into different directions, as Bakugo and Kirishima ran together in their own. They soon found themselves in a small opening surrounded by some tress and bushes.
"Let's crush these extras" Bakugo hissed out.
"Wait, Katsuki..." Kirishima stopped.
Bakugo turned back to him, an eyebrow raised.
"Are you... Sure those bruises are from... Training?" He asked nervously.
"Tch, of course they are, what do you think they'd be from?"
"I don't know, you've got a lot and you've been acting strange lately, and suddenly you're not staying in the dorms anymore? You know you can tell me anything, right?"
Bakugo didn't know how to answer, hesitating whether he should tell his boyfriend the truth or not.
"Really, I'm fine."
"If you say so..." Kirishima looked and sounded disappointed, still sure that he wasn't being honest.
"Just know that-" He was cut off as a huge ice barrier appeared in front of them.
Bakugo threw and explosion towards it, him and Kirishima running back to the front of the base to get a clearer vision.
Iida came charging towards them with Todoroki behind him. Kirishima and Iida started blocking each other with their quirks, as Bakugo went to throw an explosion at Todoroki to get the net around him.
Instead, Todoroki used his fire side and accidentally brunt of some of Bakugo's shirt.
"Asshole!" Bakugo shouted out, throwing more explosions his way.
Aizawa looked shocked at the sight of Bakugo's bruises, knowing for himself that those aren't normal. He let the fight go on, and decided to confront him after.
The fight went on until the half an hour limit.
1st place came Midoriya and Uraraka
2nd place came Kirishima and Bakugo
And 3rd place came Iida and Todoroki
Bakugo wasn't pleased by not being in first place, but surprisingly accepted second place anyway.
As they all went back to the locker rooms, he did best to cover his arms by whatever fabric he had left of his sleeves, or by using his hands, though it wasn't enough.
Just as he was about to enter, Aizawa stopped him and pulled him into the classroom.
"Bakugo, can you please explain those bruises to me?" Aizawa asked, pointing towards his arms.
"From training, duh."
Aizawa sighed, "listen kid, I know they're not from training. Is someone hurting you?"
"Of course not, they're all from training."
Aizawa looked at him in the eyes, his glare demanding the truth.
"For fucks sake! The old hag hits me, okay? Is that what the hell you wanted to hear?" Bakugo lashed out at his teacher. "She abuses me..."
"I knew it." Aizawa mumbled. He took a deep breath before speaking again. "I've had my suspicions for a while, after seeing her slap you a few times, but I wasn't sure whether it was to the actual abuse point or not." He sighed again, "You know, I don't mind taking the responsibility as your guardian for a little while. Either if it's permenant or not. I understand you probably wouldn't want that, but as your teacher I couldn't allow you to go back there."
Bakugo looked at him for a few moments, tearing up. "Anything's better than there... Thank you, Sensei."
Aizawa smiled at him. "You're welcome kid."
A few hours later he took Bakugo to his house which was on UA campus. Eri, who was also under Aizawa's care was playing with Hizashi, who is Aizawa's fiance.
He pulled Mic to the side as he spoke to him about Bakugo's situation, as Bakugo sat down next to Eri.
"B-bakugo? What are you doing here?" She asked.
"I might stay with you guys for a little while... If that's okay with you..."
Eri smiled and cheered. Even though she didn't know Bakugo very well, she was glad to have another person in their family.
Aizawa and Mic turned over to the two kids. Bakugo wasn't ready to consider them as parents or anything, more to the guardian point, but he was just greatful not to have to be in his old household anymore.
"Sensei, what about my mom? And the court?"
"Don't worry about that, I'll sort everything out."
Bakugo now had his own room in the Alliances, and Aizawa's and Mic's house, so he had a choice where he wanted to stay daily.
It was a little awkward for them at start, but in a few weeks time they all felt really connected to each other.
Family really doesn't require blood, after all.
#eijiro kirishima#mha#anime#bnha#mha manga#katsuki bakugo#manga#myheroacademia#bokunoheroacademia#mha kirishima#bnha kirishima#kiribaku#erasermic#family au#shota aizawa#aizawa#dadzashi#dadzawa
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Fic: Possession
Rating: Explicit
Fandom: Triple Frontier
Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales/You (female reader with thin body, established relationship, no kids)
Words: 2,592
Warnings: Talk of weight loss and working out in order to achieve weight loss (hers), fellatio, Sir!Frankie, some spanking, rough sex, dirty talk.
Summary: Frankie finds your gym clothes and worries (but not really) about you forgetting who you belong to as you flaunt your hot body around the gym in mini shorts and crop tops.
Paging @apascalrascal for helping me with Frankie's motivation here. Thank you, dearie! *mwah*
“Baby, what’s this?”
You glance over at Frankie who’s marching into the bathroom, holding up a couple of garments which you recognize from the laundry basket. He’s been home for a few days and today you’ve finally settled into some kind of domestic rhythm that doesn’t involve having sex as soon as you lay eyes on each other.
You turn your attention back to the mirror, and the cotton round you’re using to clean your eye makeup off.
“Workout clothes. Why?”
“You go to the gym wearing this? In public?”
“Well, it’s a gym, but yeah, I guess it’s a public place. What’s the problem?”
You put the cotton down and frown at him but finding it hard to keep your face straight: Frankie’s looking scandalized and concerned at the same time. The garments he’s holding up are a pair of tiny shorts and a netted crop top with a built-in sports bra. You realize he hasn’t seen them before, they’re quite new, you got them while he was deployed. And he was gone for four months this time around; time you spent at the gym because you had nothing better to do.
“You’re telling me you’re parading yourself around the gym in these?”
“So what?”
You toss the cotton round into the waste basket and turn to Frankie. You know very well what he’s getting at, but you want him to confess it and own up to being a possessive little macho prude.
“They’re tiny!” he exclaims in a voice that suggests he’s talking about the moral bankruptcy of America, not your gym clothes.
“Yes, because working out makes me sweat and with those clothes I can be more comfortable,” you explain patiently, like he’s a child. Internally, you’re grinning like an idiot because this is delightful.
“You used to wear, like, leggings and a t-shirt,” Frankie reminds you sourly. “What makes you want to wear this now?”
You grin then, confident and teasing.
“Because I’ve lost a lot of weight, built a lot of muscle, and I now have a smoking hot body that I’m proud to show off.”
It’s true: you spent most of your free time during Frankie’s last deployment in the gym. You had had a membership for a couple of years now and used it every once in a while but this had been his first deployment since you two moved together, and coming home to an empty house had been unbearable to you. You started going to the gym more, first with a friend, then by yourself. You even booked the PT for an individual plan, one that you had been following strictly. You were happy with the results and had treated yourself to a new workout wardrobe, indulging in tiny shorts and crop tops, clothes you never thought you’d wear in public before this.
The corners of Frankie’s mouth twitch and he smiles despite himself, but his eyes are still dark.
“Do you have to show it off to all kinds of people? Can’t you just limit yourself to me?” he suggests, holding up the clothes again. “I mean… it’s basically underwear!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” You roll your eyes. “Underwear is what I’m wearing now, and it’s nowhere near that bad.”
You’re very pleased with Frankie’s reaction, though. It’s strange but a display like this from any of the previous men you used to date would have sparked huge fights, and now… you like it when Frankie has opinions about what you wear in public. One reason is that you know that he would never try to stop you or judge you for it.
“Do other women dress like this at the gym?” Frankie wants to know. You have to take a moment to recall. You don’t pay attention to what anybody is wearing when you’re working out.
“I don’t know, Frankie, I don’t spend a lot of time looking at what people are wearing when I’m working out.”
“So basically you could all be semi naked there.”
“You’re so ridiculous,” you sigh and splash water in your face. As you’re patting your skin dry with a towel, the clothes land next to you on the countertop.
“Put them on.”
“What?”
“Put them on. Show them to me.”
You look up at Frankie, frowning, only to find his brown eyes dark and fixed on yours in a predatory manner.
Oh. Okay, then.
You turn your back to him and take off your bra, knowing full well that he can catch more than a fair share of side boob in the mirror. You then wriggle into the top, adjust the built-in bra, and bend over to pull on the shorts. When dressed, you turn around and slant your hips to the side, planting your hand to it.
“See? Perfectly normal workout clothes.” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently.
“Shut up,” Frankie tells you in a husky growl, his eyes wandering over your body, making your skin rise in goosebumps. You’ve had so much sex since he got back to last you for a week but apparently, you’re about to go for another round.
“You just gonna stand there and watch?” you purr. His reply is immediate and delivered in a low, rough voice.
“I thought I told you to shut up.”
“I have a problem with authority.”
“I can see that. Insolent girl.”
Desire pools deep in your belly at his words and in anticipation of what’s about to happen. In a few strides, Frankie’s right in front of you, brows pulled together and mouth set in a grim line.
“On your knees,” he commands you.
“Fucking make me,” you defy him, and he makes you regret it immediately. Grabbing you by the arm, he maneuvers you around and bends you over the sink before slapping your ass quite hard. A strangled cry escapes your lips and Frankie meets your eyes in the mirror. You give him a small nod to tell him that you’re okay, and he responds by caressing the butt cheek he just slapped, his hand warm and soft, before raising it and bringing it back down on your shorts-covered skin.
“Had enough?” he asks, and you throw him a provocative glance in the mirror, lower lip caught between your teeth.
“Apparently not,” he notes, and slaps you again, this time on the other buttock. You can’t prevent the loud yelp from escaping your lips as your body quivers with lust.
“You gonna take what I give to you now?” Frankie wants to know. You inhale slowly.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.”
He grabs you by the neck and pulls you up before turning you around and pressing you down to your knees in front of him. He’s already sporting a bulge and you can barely contain your excitement as you pull down his sweatpants and boxer briefs. His cock springs free and you look up at him and lick your lips.
“That’s it, beautiful girl, fucking suck it already.” Frankie strokes your hair and, to your surprise, doesn’t press your face to his crotch, but lets you decide the pace. You cup his balls with one hand and close your fingers around the base of his dick with the other, and lean in for a light swirl of the tongue on the moist tip. Frankie exhales audibly above you. Slowly, you take his cock in your mouth, deeply, before releasing it with a pop and once against licking the tip and down to the base. Your fingers play with his balls, appreciating the familiar weight of them, as you pump his cock with your other hand a couple of times before going back to sucking him. Letting go of his balls, you slide your hand to his thigh and over to his hip, where you move him in rhythm with your sucking. He catches your drift and starts to slowly, carefully, fuck your mouth.
”Fuck, that’s my good girl, letting me fuck your pretty little mouth like this,” he groans, and you moan in return, your pussy throbbing for his cock. You let your hand rest lightly on his thigh, ready to press him away if he goes too fast or too hard, but he sticks to a pace you can cope with. That’s one of the things that you really appreciate with Frankie: even when he’s rough he takes your comfort into consideration. He’d never thrust his dick down your throat like you were a fuck doll.
You glance up at him and see that him grabbing the sink with one hand. The other is nestling into your hair but the grip is light. You get ready to finish him when he pulls out without warning, leaving a string of saliva hanging between your lips and his cock.
”Your mouth feels so good, baby girl,” he growls, looking down at you and grabbing your chin, angling your face up so you can meet his stern gaze. ”But I know you have another hole that feels even better.” His large thumb passes over your lips and you part them, sucking his digit into your mouth. God, you love it when he talks like this to you. He’s a communicative lover but this kind of dirty talk isn’t on the menu too often.
”Tell me what you want, pet,” he coos to you, surprisingly soft now, stroking your hair. You wet your lip and swallow the taste of his precum. He’s going to make you beg for it. You know exactly what to say and how to say it for him to give it to you directly, but you know this is a game, you have to play helpless, give him a reason to prolong the wait.
”I want you to fuck me,” you moan, your hand on his thigh. He swats it away as you try to take his dick again. It’s so close to your face, you could suck it some more, make him groan, make him cum.
”Eyes up, baby girl,” he tells you and you obey, your lower lip caught between your teeth. ”Tell me again. What do you want me to do?”
”Fuck me.”
”Fuck you, what?”
”Sir.”
”Fuck your what?”
”Fuck my tight, wet pussy, sir,” you whimper. ”Please, I’m so wet for you, sir.”
Frankie unexpectedly pulls you up and you almost lose your balance and tumble into him but are only met by a punishing kiss when his tongue invades your mouth. You barely have time to kiss him back before he turns you around and bends you over the sink again. His movements are quick and precise as he pulls the top over your head and frees your breasts, and then pulls down your shorts and drenched through panties. He lifts one of your legs and hooks his arm around the bend of your knee before lining up his dick along the slickness of your pussy. With a forceful snap of his hips, he drives the whole of his length in, making you cry out. He starts to fuck you energetically and you notice that he keeps staring at your bouncing tits in the mirror, so you thrust your chest out and meet his gaze. His free arm snakes around your hips and his fingers find your clit, and a surge of intense pleasure cuts through you as he presses down on it.
“Let me hear it, baby girl,” he grunts in your ear and you moan loudly with each hard thrust into you. “Talk to me, be a good girl.”
“Fuck,” you whimper, bracing yourself against the edge of the sink. “You fuck me so good, sir, you make me feel so good!”
“That’s right,” he encourages you, “nobody but me can fuck you like this, sweet girl.”
“Nobody,” you wail as his fingers rub your clit with a relentless pressure and speed. “Nobody but you owns my pussy, baby, only you own that pussy.”
“Damn straight, and I’m going to fuck this pussy until I come all over it,” he huffs, his hold of your leg tightening. You close your eyes, giving in to the intense sensations and the sounds of skin slapping against skin, Frankie’s loud breathing, your own moans, the quickening between your legs. Frankie keeps slamming you against the edge of the countertop – your hips will have a bruise – and oh god, he hits you just right, so deep, so full, fuck it, you’re going to –
“Fucking look at me when I fuck you,” Frankie growls and you force your eyes open and meet his stare in the mirror. He’s the picture of determination as he stakes his claim, shows you who you belong to, as if you ever doubted it, as if you ever wanted to be anyone else’s but his. You forget yourself as you are pushed over the edge and start to fall free.
“I… Frankie, please, I’m gonna –“
“That’s it, baby, come on, come all over my cock,” Frankie groans as your pussy clenches in orgasm. He’s still rubbing your clit with two skilful fingers and thrusting deep and hard into your, not slowing down even when you start to shake with your orgasm. Loud moans escape your pursed lips and Frankie speeds up and growls as he shoots you full of cum. He curses in your ear and his fingers dig into the soft skin of your thigh, easing the build-up of a cramp. For a second, you fear you’ll lose your balance and both of you are going to fall and bang your heads on the tile floor, but Frankie’s arms are securing you and when he lets your leg down, he doesn’t let go of you until he knows you’re steady on your feet. You lean your elbows onto the counter, catching your breath and still shivering from the aftermath of the orgasm. Frankie slips out of you, leaving you feeling strangely empty, and you catch him in the mirror as he appreciated the creampie oozing out between your folds. You sway your hips teasingly and he meets your gaze in the mirror and pass his hand through his damp curls, smiling at you.
“Okay?” he asks, carefully pulling you up to stand and turning you around, greeting you with a long, sincere kiss. You wrap your arms around him and pull him in closer.
“As long as I’m yours, I’m okay,” you let him know. “I love you.”
“And I you.” Frankie kisses the tip of your nose and smiles. “And I did notice you’ve lost weight. I just didn’t want to say anything in case it was a touchy subject.”
“It’s not,” you assure him. “I just missed you so much when you were away, baby, I had to focus on something. Going to the gym seemed as good a thing as any.”
“Sorry my absence sent you to the fuckin’ gym,” Frankie murmurs, making you laugh. He’s not a fan of working out but is required to keep his body in some kind of shape. The day he finally retires will certainly be celebrated as the day he no longer has to work out for his job.
“Can I wear whatever I want now that you’ve established who I belong to?” you ask innocently. Frankie grins.
“I would never tell you what you can and cannot wear, you know that, baby.”
“Oh, so all of that claiming just now –“
“Was just an act, yes.”
“Gasp!” You feign dismay and clutch imaginary pearls at your clavicle. “Sir! I feel so used!”
Frankie grabs your ass cheeks and squeezes before lowering his lips to your neck for a teasing bite.
“Watch it so I don’t claim you all over again, baby girl.”
#my fic#triple frontier#triple frontier fanfic#francisco morales#francisco catfish morales#frankie catfish morales#frankie morales#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x reader
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(Poe Dameron x Reader): Last Night
Summary: (Y/N) Solo is new to the D’Qar base and meets a certain pilot.
A/N: This is an idea I’d been toying with for a while, the introduction is way too long but I couldn’t bear to cut any of it because I’m kind of obsessed with Solo!Reader now lol (apologies for any spelling or grammar mistakes)
Warning: this fic is 18+ for smut! (also this is my first time publishing like genuine smut so apologizes for how awkward it is)
To say you were upset would be the understatement of the universe. You were furious. After years of training and countless successful missions, your mother had decided to abruptly transfer you back to her base, on D’Qar.
You’d grown up traveling around the galaxy thanks to your parents. But your mother had sent you to a resistance base in the outer rim, on Dantar when you were a teenager so you could train as a pilot, far out of the reach of your brother and the rest of the First Order.
But now your mother wanted you back with her, on D’Qar, so you could help her. After what? Six? Seven years of seeing your mom only once or twice a year when she came to meet with the vice admiral who ran the base where you were stationed. Seven years of her refusing to meet your eyes all because your brother had betrayed everything your family stood for. She had been punishing you for what he had done, whether she was willing to admit it or not.
She wanted you back. And Leia Organa was the general. So you had no choice to follow her orders.
Lucky for you, one of your close friends was also being transferred with you. Rose had been filing for a transfer to D’Qar for years so she could be on the same base as her sister, and you’d told your mother that if she wanted you on the transport that there needed to be a spot for your best friend too.
That was why both you and Rose were currently being pulled along at the wrist by Rose’s sister, Paige, as she told you all about how the cantina near the base had the best band on the planet — and how she couldn’t wait to introduce you to some of the other pilots.
Your trio strolled up to the bar where you each ordered drinks before a group of people seated at a booth in the corner of the cantina started calling Paige over to them.
“Hey, guys!” Paige said cheerfully as she hugged most of the members of the group, “This is my sister, Rose, that I’ve been telling you about, and of course-
“-(Y/N/N),” You say, cutting Paige off before she can tell them your full name. If there was one thing you knew for sure it was that no one likes to party with the General’s daughter, at least not before they get to know you. Withholding your full name for the time being seemed like the best move, especially since you were looking to have a properly wild night, which was much easier when people didn’t know who you were.
Everyone introduced themselves to you and Rose and you sat down with them. Paige and her friends took turns telling embarrassing stories about each other while you and Rose played the role of the attentive listeners.
As the night wore on, and you had lost count of how many drinks you’d had, people began to get up to go dance. And you were all but ready to turn in for the night when you heard laughing and cheers from a few members of the group who were dancing nearby. You turned towards the commotion to see what could only be described as quite possibly the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.
Eventually, after the man had made his greetings to the people who were out on the dance floor he came over to the table and hugged Paige.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you around,” The man said as his eyes finally landed on you.
“I just got transferred to this base,” you shouted over the music, “my friends call me (Y/N/N),” You tell him as you stuck your hand.
“Poe Dameron,” He introduces himself as he envelopes your hand in his own.
“Oh, I know who you are,” You say with a slight chuckle. Commander Dameron was infamous, you’d heard of him, even on Dantar.
“Best pilot in the resistance,” He quips with a smirk.
You coughed slightly on the drink you’d just taken a sip of. Was this guy seriously so pompous that he would compliment himself? Now you understood all of the rumors, with a face and attitude like that, you were sure that Poe could get anyone in the resistance he wanted.
You cleared your throat before turning back to Poe, “You know, someone once told me that (Y/N) Solo was the best pilot in the resistance.”
“General Organa’s daughter? Pfft, please, she’s just some kid,” He told you with a smug grin, “Just because she’s the General’s daughter and her dad’s Han Solo doesn’t mean she actually knows anything about flying a proper ship.”
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Rose and Paige silently watching your conversation, and the warning look that Rose was giving you. But you didn’t care, you were going to get him back for that comment somehow.
“Do you wanna dance?” You asked as you placed your hand on his forearm.
He nodded with a warm smile before taking your hand in his and leading him towards the thumping music.
As you danced with Poe you slowly began to relax. Maybe this transfer wouldn’t be so bad after all. You let yourself forget everything, the war, your family, all of the expectations that your mother had for you. You forgot them all as you snaked your arms around Poe’s neck and pulled him close to you.
You began to move in sync with one another. His eyes locked in on your own as you inched closer and closer together. Eventually, you couldn’t bear the tension anymore and you kissed him.
You pressed your lips against his as you pushed your fingers up into his thick curls. You pulled slightly, causing him to groan into your mouth. You smirked against his mouth as your tongues tangled together.
Your head spins, and you’re not sure if it's from all the drinking, or the way Poe’s soft lips begin to trail down to the crook of your neck and suck on that sweet spot.
“We should-” Poe mutters against your skin, but you’re already a step ahead of him as you grab his hand from its place on the small of your back and lead him off the dance floor.
You winked at Rose as you tugged Poe by the hand out of the Cantina. You were heading towards your new quarters but Poe seemed to have other intentions because before you were even two steps out the door he had you pushed up against the wall of the building as he feverishly pressed his lips against yours. His breath was hot on your face, his entire body was pressed against yours, only your shins were left to face the biting chill that the night had to offer you.
Eventually, the two managed to break apart.
“Now do you wanna go back to my quarters?” You asked, slightly breathlessly, as you looked up at the dark-haired man.
“Lead the way,” He said with a wolfish grin as you grabbed his hand once again and headed back towards the base.
It took you far longer to get back to your room than it had taken to go to the cantina at the beginning of the night. Mostly because every once and a while Poe had decided it had been far too long since he’d kissed you and the would pull you back into him, distracting you for a moment (or several moments).
Finally, you made it to your room, you were giggling as you finally stumbled through the doorway with Poe’s lips still attached to your neck.
“Woah, how’d you get a room this nice?” He said as he finally looked around.
“Oh, didn’t you know? I’m actually very important,” You tell him with a wry smile as you sit down on the untouched, completely made bed, “Do you want to help me break it in?” You ask as you nod down at the mattress beneath you.
“I’d love nothing more.”
His hands are on you before you can register it. His fingers are pulling at your shirt as he pulls the fabric over your head. You get to work on his belt as he pulls at your bra and palms your breasts.
Poe’s eyes bore into your own as you shrug his jacket off his shoulders and he helps you make quick work of his shirt. You don’t say anything as he tugs your pants down your legs and lets them pool at your ankles.
“Fuck,” You groan as Poe’s fingers finally make contact with your aching core, brushing against your slit over the thin piece of cloth still forming a barrier between you two. His lips make slow work from your knee to your inner thigh, leaving a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses in their wake.
“Please,” You mutter, your voice barely above a whisper as Poe’s fingers continue to tease your clit through your underwear.
Poe smirks up at you before hooking his fingers around the hem of your underwear and finally pulling them down. The cold air hit your already wet cunt and you had to stop yourself from gasping.
Your breath hitched and you can’t help but arch your back off the bed as his mouth attached to your clit. For a moment a thought forms in your mind about how maybe Poe’s cockiness is derived from the godly things he can do with his mouth but then he’s pressing two fingers into you and any coherent thoughts fly out of your brain just as an embarrassingly loud moan flies out of your mouth.
You get hot, so deeply hot as the elastic in your center begins to coil. You’re already close to your climax and Poe shows no signs of stopping.
“I-I’m gonna-”
“Come for me,” He mumbles into your thigh as he looks up at you, and sees just how close you really are.
And all it takes are those sinful words to come out of his mouth, dripping like honey as he looks directly at you.
Your orgasm comes fast and hard as your thighs tremble around Poe’s head, pressing slightly against either side of his neck as he coaxes you through your orgasm. You breathe out a shaky breath before propping yourself up on your elbows and getting a better look at Poe.
He pulls himself up to you and presses a kiss to your lips as you eagerly kiss him back, licking your own come off his mouth as your hand snakes down his torso and into his pants. He’s already hard, and as your fingers begin to stroke around him, over the head, and then back down. Poe grounds in your ear as he presses himself down onto your hand, trying to gain more pressure.
“You’re awfully needy,” You tease as your fingers continue their ministrations.
“Don’t-don’t be a fucking tease,” he grumbles as his hands begin to trail up and down your sides, desperate to feel more of you.
You smirk as you pull your hand out of Poe’s pants and he can’t help but groan in frustration before you make quick work of pulling his pants and underwear down his legs and push them off and throw them on the floor.
Throwing your legs around his thighs you push him down onto the mattress as you straddle him. You brace one arm against his chest as you use the other to guide yourself as you slowly lower yourself down onto his cock.
You’re not sure you’re still breathing as just the feeling of being so full brings up so close to another orgasm already.
You slowly lift yourself up and then back down, easing yourself into a rhythm as you fuck yourself on his cock.
“Fuck baby, you’re so good,” Poe hums as he looks up at you as you bounce on his cock, certain he’s never seen something so ethereal and unbearably attractive.
Poe can’t help but press his thumbs into your hips as he grabs onto your waist and rolls over on top of you, taking control before he begins to relentlessly pound you into the mattress.
“I’m so fucking close, so fucking close,” Poe groans, “Where do you want it?”
“Inside,” You huff as you feel yourself teetering on the precipice of your own orgasm.
And then that thing deep inside you snaps yet again. You think Poe said something, but you can’t hear him over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. Your eyes roll back as Poe continues to thrust into you with stuttering pushes as you ride out your orgasm.
Once you’ve both come (somewhat) back to your senses and your movements slow to a stop Poe unceremoniously pulls out of you before flopping down next to you on the bed.
You sighed, “That was…”
Poe smirks, “Amazing?”
“Don’t let the compliment go to your head, your ego’s already far too big,” You tell him as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest.
You feel Poe’s fingers playing with your hair as you slowly drift in and out of sleep, eventually you turn your head up to look at him with a teasing smile, “You can fall asleep, y’know, I’ll be here tomorrow.”
“I want to look at you just a while longer,” Poe replies, causing you to roll your eyes but you curl into him and finally close your eyes and let him lull you to sleep.
-
Poe woke up the next morning, in your bed, only to find you long gone, he suspected that you’d had to be up early to start your first day on the job.
He quickly pulled on his discarded clothes and made his way to his own quarters where he quickly changed into fresh clothes before making his way to the command center for his meeting with General Organa, a meeting he was already running late for.
“Commander Dameron, I want to introduce you to my daughter, (Y/N),” Leia said as she beckoned the pilot over. Poe made his way over to the General but the last thing he was prepared for was for you to turn around and smile at him.
The look on his face was priceless, you wish you had a holo of that moment so you could treasure it forever.
“Do you two know each other?” Leia asked after a beat as she took in both of your expressions.
“We met last night,” You tell your mother innocently, “At the cantina, Rose’s sister took us so she could introduce us to her friends.”.
Smoothing over the awkwardness quickly you turn back to Poe and stick out your hand, “It’s nice to officially meet you, Commander Dameron, I hear we’ll be working together quite closely,”
This was going to be fun.
#star wars#star wars fanfiction#star wars imagine#star wars imagines#star wars reader insert#poe dameron imagine#poe dameron#poe dameron x reader#solo!reader#poe dameron fanfiction#poe dameron reader insert#smut
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**FIRE FORCE FIC PROMPTS**
Note: A good chunk of these are smut prompts, featuring various ships (mostly BL ships). There are noncon prompts at the end, clearly marked where they start. I threw in some purely platonic SFW prompts for those of you who are into weird stuff like that lol
Please, if you like any of these prompts and are going to write them - tell me. Also some of these prompts are super detailed while others are like one sentence long.
Ships Included:
Konro x Benimaru • Joker x Benimaru • Viktor x Joker • Burns x Joker • Shinra x Sho • Shinra x Arthur • Charon x Haumea
————
-PLATONIC-
- Arrow & Sho. Sho gets upset and cries into Arrow’s chest. He’s so upset he calls her “mommy” without realizing it.
- Charon & Haumea. “Unconditional love” is what his thoughts told her. What she doesn’t understand is why. No matter how much she tries to find out, the answer alludes her.
- Shinra & Sho. Bed sharing and cuddling.
-SHIPPING-
Konro x Benimaru
- Teenage!Benimaru confesses his love for Konro when he’s drunk after having drank Sake for the first time.
- D/s. Benimaru loves giving up control to Konro when they have sex.
- Rumors about them being in a relationship spread, leading to so unsavory comments about Konro regarding their age difference. (Ex: suggesting Konro took advantage of Beni when he was young; that it’s creepy since Konro was an adult while Beni was a child when they first met; etc) Needless to say, Benimaru gets pissed anyone would dare think that about Konro.
- Doppelgänger!Konro x Doppelgänger!Benimaru. Hell’s a little nicer when you have someone you love to have sex with. Even Doppelgängers feel love.
- Doppel!Benimaru manifests and wreaks havoc because his Konro is dead. Now he wants Konro to replace him and he won’t let Benimaru get in the way of that. (Doppel!Beni is Yandere for Konro [both if them] because that’s how people perceive Benimaru to be... and turns out it’s correct, Benimaru IS Yandere for Konro).
- Mourning. Doppel!Benimaru finds out his Konro is dead. All of Adolla quakes from the outburst of his sorrow.
- (past noncon) Teenage!Benimaru tries to thank Konro in the only way he knows how - with his body. Konro is, reasonably, freaked out and finds out why it is Beni thinks this is appropriate.
- Benimaru is a bit of a submissive masochist. Konro is happy to help with whatever Beni needs.
- Their first time together wasn’t gentle. It was passionate, overwhelming, aggressive, heated, rough. All their pent up feelings for each out came rushing out violently and they were both happy to get caught up in it. Benimaru never felt so content in his life as when Konro was manhandling him that night.
- Benimaru does something special, and embarrassing, for Konro. Puppy-play.
- Konro is a bit of a voyeur. Those pictures he took of Beni for the calendar are not the only pictures he has of him. For Konro’s birthday, Benimaru supplies him with extra special pictures that Beni took of himself. As it happens, Benimaru is an exhibitionist.
- The world is on fire and Benimaru has nothing left to give. Before the flames take him he has to tell Konro he loves him. (Sad fic, death fic)
Joker x Benimaru // Benimaru x Joker
- They each have their own shit to be frustrated about. They take it out on each other when one of them needs it. It’s fine, they can take it.
- It’s not love. They don’t even like each other. They irritate each other. But they sure do love angry fucking each other.
Viktor x Joker
- Joker loves how fascinating Viktor finds him.
- Unlike any other partners he’s had, Viktor treats Joker gently when they have sex. He’s not used to it and gets flustered.
- After killing the captain at the Holy Sol Temple, the reality of the situation hits him. The man who violated him for years, who continued to haunt his nightmares into adulthood, was dead. All of a sudden he needs to see Viktor no matter what. (Hurt/comfort)
Burns x Joker
- (past noncon) Joker cries during sex and Burns really doesn’t know what to do about it.
- 52 has a crush on Burns and comes onto him one night. Burns can’t bring himself to turn him down, knowing what 52 goes through, and opts to make him feel good instead.
- Joker mourns Burns’ death.
- After all these years, Joker has daddy issues. It doesn’t surprise Burns’ in the slightest when Joker calls him “daddy” in bed. What surprises him is how much he enjoys being called that.
Shinra x Sho
- Sho has zero sense of personal space and Shinra’s been having some very uncomfortable thoughts about his little brother.
- Sho is in love with Shinra and doesn’t understand why everyone says it’s “wrong”.
- “Let big brother take care of you.”
- (past noncon) Arrow confesses to Shinra about all the terrible things the White Clad did to Sho since they abducted him. When he got old enough to start questioning things, they broke him. They did it again after Shinra’s Adolla Link with Sho (which in turn Shinra feels guilty for). [this one could be romantic or brotherly but either way hurt/comfort]
- Shinra thinks Sho is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. An angel too perfect for a devil like him.
- A little bit of brotherly playful roughhousing, making up for all the years they lost, leads to something much more heated. Neither stops to think about it, it feels too good to finally be together.
- Shinra likes it a lot when Sho cries out “big brother” while they make love.
Shinra x Arthur
- A stupid argument about something pointless ends in Shinra pinning Arthur to the floor. Before either knows it they’re grinding against each other, kissing harshly.
- (attempted noncon) Doppel!Shinra tries to force himself on Arthur when Arthur confronts him about the real Shinra’s whereabouts.
- Arthur knows this isn’t the real Shinra, but there’s something alluringly taboo about being taken roughly by a devil like this.
Charon x Haumea
- The world is about to burn, but before she fulfills her duty she wants to show Charon how thankful she truly is for his devotion to her all this time. She figures she’ll kill two birds with one stone, rewarding him and indulging in pleasure herself.
-NONCON-
Mob x Benimaru
- Before ending up in Asakusa, being found and taken in by Hibachi, Benimaru lived on the streets of the Tokyo Empire. There’s a good reason he resents the Tokyo Empire and doesn’t like to leave Asakusa. A child alone on the streets is dangerous and he was so weak back then. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be cornered in some alley and sexually assaulted, left in the trash once they were done with him.
- Benimaru doesn’t know how this happening to him of all people, why he’s unable to fight off his attackers. They’re mocking him, degrading him, humiliating him, and they’re forcing him to get off on what’s being done to him. At some point he starts crying, begging for them to stop, which only makes them enjoy his torment more.
- Benimaru is drunk off his ass and someone decides to take advantage of the situation. How often do you get the chance to have Asakusa’s “King of Destruction” begging for you to fuck him?
Mob x Joker
- 52 still isn’t learning his lesson. To break him further, and to reward the rest of the shadows for their hard work and dedication, the captain has them punish 52 by letting them do whatever they want to him (nothing that will cause permanent injury, at least). 52’s entire week was spent as a plaything for them all, torture, rape, humiliation, degradation, all manner of creative punishment. It came damn close to breaking him.
- The criminal underworld isn’t a nice place. Sometimes Joker messes with the wrong people and he got taught painful lessons, no different from what the captain did to him.
- Forced Burns x Joker. The church calls it a bonding ceremony. Burns knows it’s just their way of attempting to break 52 by having the one person who hasn’t mistreated him hurt him. If Burns refuses, it won’t end well for anyone involved. So he forces himself on 52 and hates himself for it.
Mob x Sho
- (Extreme underage) Sho was just too tiny and cute. Only 5 years old. So soft, so sweet. Naturally, they had to beat that out of him.
- Haumea x Sho. She dresses him up like the beautiful doll he is. She plays with him like the toy he is. She violates him like the object he is. She makes him cry, cry out for his brother, his mother, Arrow, anyone, like the child he is. She makes him spread his legs for other White Clad members and then hurts him when he gets his dress dirty, like the useless slut he is. She leaves him hard, needy, alone for hours, until he’s begging for release. She tells him if his brother could see him now, he’d be disgusted by him. He agrees.
Kurono x Nataku
- Kurono loves every pathetic thing about Nataku. Or it’s as close to love as he’s capable of. In his own twisted way, he shows his affection for the boy.
- Nataku is such a masochistic boy, it’s impossible for Kurono to resist him.
Doppel!Benimaru x Konro
- Doppel!Benimaru manifests and infiltrates Company 7 while Benimaru is away. He tricks Konro into fucking him.
- Doppel!Benimaru promises to leave Asakusa alone in exchange for Konro fucking him.
Doppel!Konro x Benimaru
- Konro wasn’t there when the Demon Infernal showed up. Benimaru attempts to fight it on his own but the demon gets him on his back and starts ripping off his clothes. Benimaru is too confused to register just what’s happening until he feels white hot searing pain splitting him in half. He’s afraid, too shocked and in too much pain to do anything. In spite of it all, he gets hard. The demon notices and its grin gets wider. He remembers a burning hand jacking him off and feeling liquid fire inside him. Before he blacks out he hears Konro call out his name. When he wakes, the demon is gone and Konro is hurt.
Doppel!Benimaru x Benimaru
- Doppel!Beni captures Konro and forces him to watch while he rapes Benimaru. Beni can’t fight back because he and his Doppelgänger and too evenly matched and Konro would be hurt. All the while his Doppelgänger taunts him and Konro, describing how “his Konro” (the Doppelgänger) used to fuck him - finding all of Benimaru’s sensitive spots easily because he had them too. Tells them how it’s obvious to everyone how in love they are, that everyone suspects they’re together, because Doppel!Konro has been fucking Doppel!Beni’s brains out since he was a teenager. In spite of the situation, Konro ends up getting hard.
- Benimaru is haunted by dreams of hellfire. In them he always sees himself, a version of himself engulfed in flames. He’s had these dreams since the night before he discovered his powers. In them his other self violates him. It hurts. The dreams always feel so real, even in the morning. Nevertheless he chalks them up to just being nightmares until the discovery that Doppelgängers are real.
- They were evenly matched but his Doppelgänger blindsided him. His head is bleeding, Asakusa is burning, he doesn’t know what’s become of Company 7, and his damned Doppelgänger takes time out of his destruction to rape him - just to add insult to injury.
NOTE: If you’re unaware what “mob” means, it’s a doujin term basically meaning their only purpose is to assault whatever canon character. It’s not an OC, self, or reader insert. It can be an individual nameless character or a group of them.
Also yeah you can clearly tell the kinda stuff I’m into and I don’t care. I put all these prompts in one list because laziness.
May or may not update this list as need be! Enjoy the naughty stuff I know y’all really want as well!!
#fire force#en en no shouboutai#enen no shouboutai#en en no shobotai#enn enn no shouboutai#konro x benimaru#prompts#fanfic#joker x viktor#viktor x joker#shinra x Sho#shinra x arthur
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new chapter (lucifer fic)
Ponder on the Narrow House, part 6
Mazikeen/Eve/Michael
(Whole thing can be read on AO3.)
0
Fuck the next bounty.
After thinking about it for ten seconds, Mazikeen turned them around and started driving straight for Los Angeles.
Eve can talk to him. Not me. He needs to talk to someone, and Eve will do.
Barely half a mile later, Amenadiel dropped out of the sky and landed in the middle of the road, just far enough away for her to bring the car to a screeching halt before it would otherwise have slammed into him like wet clay into a steel wall.
“We’ve got a problem,” he said, looking exhausted.
She snorted and pointed skyward. “Yeah. This? Not gonna lie, I was expecting something like this. But I thought it would take, like, at least a month.”
Wincing, Amenadiel said, “No, that’s… that’s a different problem and Chloe’s promised to discuss it with him. Maze, we need you back at Lux. Now.”
“Hi, Amenadiel!” Eve called, waving.
He succeeded in smiling at her without even glancing at Michael, despite his younger brother sitting right at her side, glaring fixedly.
“Why?” demanded Mazikeen, tensely drumming her fingers on the wheel. (Inner voice hissing, Shouldn’t have left him alone, you dumb bitch, you’ve been doing this for centuries and you know what he’s like when you leave him alone for more than five minutes.) “Seriously – what could he possibly need me for? He’s God.”
Sighing, Amenadiel put his wings away. “Mazikeen, we’re all well aware that Lucy often… has difficulty focusing. To put it mildly. There’s a lot more for him to focus on now than ever before. He’s trying to undo climate change. To that end, he started refreezing all the melted ice in the Arctic. But he did it too quickly and, resultantly, there are several hundred trapped ships we need to save and several thousand dead penguins to resurrect and, to be honest, he hasn’t really got the hang of resurrection yet – you remember what Dan looked like for the first few hours after Lucifer brought him back to life…”
“Eurgh. Yeah. Yuck. Totes not the kinda shit you’d wanna see in Happy Feet.”
Michael was snickering.
“Right. And then there are all the changes he’s been making locally,” Amenadiel went on. “The expansion of Lux, the overnight disappearance of all Los Angeles’ firearms, his deciding that the city’s white supremacist population should grow a third ear so they can be easily identified, and, well, it turns out that a lot of Chloe’s colleagues at the police station-…”
“I get it, I get it. Chaos everywhere. As usual. What, exactly, is the problem he wants me to fix?”
Amenadiel exhaled heavily. “The demons. The ones you brought from Hell to help us defeat Michael.”
“Oh, so you do remember I exist,” Michael muttered.
Stonily ignoring him, Amenadiel said, “They’re still on Earth and they’re causing trouble. The one called Dromos, in particular. He’s gathered followers and they’ve surrounded Lux.”
Her brother’s face – his real face, not the human puppet he wore – flashed through her mind’s eye; a memory from when they were unruly children and had raced through Hell together, using the stone pillars that they’d not yet known were cells as an obstacle course. She’d been faster; he, more athletic. Together with a few cousins, they’d made a fearsome team, and not even their meanest older siblings had bullied them.
She folded her arms and looked away. “They’re demons. Lucifer can deal with them. Snap his fingers and turn them into rats or whatever. Make them explode.”
“Mazikeen,” Eve murmured, soft and low, touching her shoulder. “You don’t want that. They’re your family.”
Amenadiel blinked, as though that hadn’t occurred to him. “Er… yes, there’s that. There’s also the fact that Lucifer doesn’t want all of humanity to see him as the type of God who casually annihilates his enemies; a harsh, vindictive God. He wants to be liked. To be loved.”
“Fine. So why don’t you and the other angels sort it out?”
“Come now, Maze. A bunch of angels and a bunch of demons waging war in the midst of a bustling city? Humans will die. But you’re the Queen of Hell now and, by extension, the Queen of Demons. If you command Dromos to stand down, he will. This can all be resolved peacefully.”
Eve’s fingertips were cool against her skin.
Mazikeen looked back at the sky. The cloud letters were starting to dissolve. “What does he want?”
“Who?”
“Dromos. He doesn’t act on instinct. He’s a planner. He wants something.”
Shrugging, Amenadiel said, “He shouted at me about demanding an audience with the king. I didn’t ask for details. I don’t really care. Dromos isn’t someone I’m inclined to listen to at the best of times. The last time the wretch showed his face on Earth, he kidnapped my son.”
“Mmm. Kinda like your sister was gonna do. Kinda like you were gonna do, now that I think about it.”
“Maze!” he gasped, sounding shocked and hurt. “You can’t compared poor Remiel’s misguided actions to-…”
“I’ll do it,” she interrupted. “Take me to Lux. Now.”
“Excuse me? What about us?” snapped Michael.
Mazikeen met Eve’s gentle gaze. “You don’t need to be involved in this. My family drama, it – it’s not pretty.”
“My son killed my son,” said Eve, taking her hand. “My husband loved another woman. I’m used to drama.”
Swallowing, Mazikeen glanced at Michael. “And you, wimp?”
Feigning disinterest – feigning it badly – he said, “You showed up to my last domestic dispute. Guess this’ll make us square.”
“I’ve only got two arms. I can’t carry all of you,” Amenadiel pointed out.
Mazikeen rubbed her chin. “No… but you can carry the car, right?”
0
He didn’t have time for this. There was so much to do.
“World hunger,” he recited as he bounced from one laptop to the next, all twenty-three of them displaying a different article or video by a leading scientific or sociological mind, “wealth inequality, pollution, cancer, droughts, racism, elderly abuse, housing shortages, cruelty to animals…”
“Lucifer,” said Linda patiently, sitting on his best couch with her legs crossed, a cup of coffee and a laptop of her own beside her. “You said you wanted my advice as to how you should manage this whole ‘being God’ business.”
“I do, doctor! Very much. Your input is invaluable. Blast, where did I put that map of Alaska? I’m thinking of making it bigger; slotting it in alongside the Arctic to help stabilise all that new ice.”
“Right. Thanks. So here – here is what I’m suggesting now; slow down. Seriously. Take a breath, step back, and think your next move through.”
He scoffed. “‘Slow down’? Doctor, I need to work at least three times faster if I’m to keep up with everything. There are people suffering everywhere, millions of them! There are sinners in need of punishment! I’m seriously considering asking Chloe to be my Deputy God. I never imagined omnipotence would entail so much paperwork and she’s always been better at that than me.”
Outside the penthouse, many stories below, the chanting grew louder. None of the human police officers, journalists, and gawkers who’d gathered to watch could understand it; it was in Lilim.
Cursing, Lucifer strode to the balcony and shouted down, “For the last time, would you all kindly piss off? I’m trying to fix an entire planet here!”
He heard the elevator open and moaned. “Detective, not now. Please. I’m very sorry I haven’t returned your calls – I swear I’m not avoiding you – it’s just that I’ve got a lot on my plate today and we did already agree to meet for supper at-…”
“Lucifer,” said Linda, sounding terrified.
“Lucifer,” said someone else, sounding irritable.
Now that he was God, rage didn’t turn his eyes red anymore. It turned them gold and blindingly bright, like spotlights. Fists clenched, he turned to see Dromos step into the penthouse, once again clad in the flesh of the late Father Kinley and wearing a leather jacket.
“Nice trick, making all the doors disappear. Finally decided to climb up the side of the building with a sledgehammer and burrow my way through into the elevator shaft,” said the demon, hands in his pockets and concrete dust coating his beard and his bald head. “I want to talk to you, sire.”
Storming across the room while Linda remained frozen, white-faced, on the couch, Lucifer snarled, “You! You have the nerve to come here, to stand before me, after what you did to my nephew?”
He took Dromos by the neck and lifted him off the ground, his wings opening in fury (he had six of them now).
Stoical even as he choked, Dromos said, “I need. To talk. I will leave immediately afterwards.”
“Oh, you’ll leave, alright! You’ll be lucky if I don’t throw you into an active volcano, you accursed traitor!”
Dromos’ stolen skin began to sizzle beneath his fingers. He waited until the demon’s face was wrinkled with pain before throwing him to the floor hard enough to crack the wood and make a crater.
“I will leave,” Dromos gasped, coughing up blood, “when I have spoken.”
“What could you possibly have to say for yourself? Kidnapper. Child-thief.”
Still on the couch, Linda said tremulously, “Lucifer, you’re… you’re hurting him. Stop it. Please.”
“Let us stay!” shouted Dromos, and coughed again before dragging himself up onto his knees. “On Earth. That’s what I came to say. Let your erstwhile subjects stay on Earth if they choose – at least, those who served you in the battle against Michael. Don’t force them to return to Hell. Let them, let us choose where we live, going forward. That’s my request, your Majesty. My only request.”
Lucifer boggled at him. “Is that a joke? Demons? On Earth, indefinitely, unsupervised? Are you out of your tiny mind, Dromos?”
Baring teeth, Dromos said, “Why not? What does it matter to you now? You’ve got everything you could possibly want. Everything anyone could possibly want! All we’re asking is the freedom to come and go as we please.”
“No.”
He spoke the word bluntly, and then he stepped back, adjusting his cuffs. Regaining his composure. “Never. You’re dangerous and untrustworthy. This world is for humans, not you. Good grief, haven’t I got enough to preoccupy my mind, without the added stress of demons rampaging around town?”
“We won’t rampage. We just-…”
“Why are you even coming to me with this? Mazikeen’s the new Queen of Hell. Didn’t you get the memo?”
Dromos wiped blood from his lips. “I don’t know if my sister and I are on speaking terms right now. And she may be Queen, but you’re God; I assumed you would be tasked with such decisions. After all, there’s never been a demon in charge of Hell before. We were told – we were always told – that only angels could rule us. I don’t doubt Mazikeen’s competence, but I…”
He seemed to run out of steam, spreading his hands and finishing weakly, “Lucifer, you’re the king. You’ve been the king for millions of years. For my entire life. Look, if you really don’t want us leaving Hell, then can you at least use your newfound power to improve it? Let us have the things mortals enjoy? Pianos, dogs, blankets, weekends, all that stuff?”
Lucifer rolled his eyes. “That would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? Hell is supposed to be a place of punishment. The ultimate consequence awaiting sinners. I need a carrot and a stick, Dromos. How else am I supposed to convince people to behave if I don’t? Imagine a rapist arriving in Hell and being confronted with demons playing pianos and walking their dogs. Wouldn’t have quite the desired effect, would it?”
Dromos was quiet for a moment, then said without inflection, “Perhaps you could find somewhere else to put rapists. Somewhere other than our home.”
Throwing up his arms, Lucifer said, “More demands! Don’t you see how selfish you’re being? Here I am, doing my best to end all suffering, and you’re complaining about babysitting a few evil-doers – which, might I remind you, is your job. Nay, your very reason for existence. Always has been. Why’re you getting stroppy about it now?”
“I think,” Linda began, taking a tentative step forward before stopping and clearing her throat. “Excuse me. May I interrupt? Um. Okay, so I think that maybe Dromos has a point here, Lucifer.”
“Doctor! This is the creature that stole your baby!”
“Yes, I know. And I’m not saying I forgive him for that, but…”
“I wasn’t going to eat the brat,” Dromos grumbled. “I was going to make him a king.”
“You took him away from his mother!” Lucifer shouted.
“Gentlemen!” said Linda, sharply. “Please! Let’s try to talk this through like adults.”
Overcome with frustration, and only vaguely aware that he’d not been sleeping well lately, Lucifer kicked the nearest chair. “I can’t believe you’re siding with him, doctor.”
“I’m not siding with anyone. I-…”
“You don’t know these people like I do. You didn’t spend millions of years in Hell alongside them. The only demon you’ve ever gotten acquainted with is Maze, and she’s not like the others; even without a soul, she’s learned how to behave like a more-or-less civilised adult, barring the occasional tantrum. But your average, baseline demon has nothing to them besides wrath and cruelty. Lilith made them to be weapons and that’s all they really are. I mean – just imagine, for a moment, how hard it was for me. To go from the Silver City, the most beautiful place ever created, to a lightless nightmare realm full of these bloodthirsty animals. To be surrounded by them, for endless eons, while they nattered mindlessly on and on about how much they love torture and pain and…”
He trailed off. Linda and Dromos were both looking past him.
To the elevator. Where – oh – Mazikeen was standing.
Where Mazikeen was crying.
No sobs, not like when Dan had died. No expression at all, really. Just open eyes, motionless muscles, and steady tears.
Before Lucifer could say a word, she pressed the button to close the elevator doors.
“Wait!” he yelped, sprinting over to stop them.
He needn’t have bothered. Now that he was God, objects did whatever he told them to do. The doors stilled, half-open.
“That sounded wrong,” he acknowledged, clasping her shoulders in apology. “You completely missed the context. What I was trying to say was-…”
“Don’t touch me.”
It was a phrase he’d heard many times before from mortal lovers to whom he had accidentally revealed his Devil Face. Some of them said it in horror. Some of them, the religious ones, said it in anger.
Mazikeen looked neither horrified nor angry. She looked sick. As though the very sight of him turned her stomach.
Lumbering over, Dromos stepped into the elevator alongside her and pointedly pressed the button again. With no idea what to do or say, Lucifer allowed the machinery to work.
The elevator closed.
“What have I done?” he asked Linda.
0
Nothing I didn’t know.
“Maze?” called Eve, waiting by the car with the others as Mazikeen stepped out of Lux’s front door and into the sunlight.
The door hadn’t been there when they’d arrived. She’d been forced to use Dromos’ route. Lucifer must have decided to put it back. He could do that now. Just decide things. Didn’t need servants, nor followers, nor anyone. Sure didn’t need a ‘more-or-less civilised adult’ whose kin were animals.
“Maze! Wait!”
Mazikeen didn’t know where she was going, only that she was walking very quickly and felt that she’d die if she stopped. She heard Eve’s heels patter on the pavement and heard her say her name a third time, quiet and worried, and that was what stilled her feet.
“What happened?” murmured Eve, cupping her face.
The fifty or so demons who’d been standing around outside Lux when Amenadiel had set the car and its passengers down were still there. Instead of chanting to get their king’s attention, they were now looking at her.
Michael and Amenadiel stood among them, the latter having been trying to convince them to stop blocking traffic.
Which was what she should have been doing. It was what he’d brought her here to do. But she’d been gripped by a sudden, violent need to see Lucifer, to check on him, just quickly, before tending to her siblings. Once a bodyguard, always a bodyguard.
Except that wasn’t what I was. Not to him. To him, I was a Rottweiler on a leash.
“Are you alright?” asked Amenadiel, his eyes overflowing with concern.
That was what cracked her.
To him. Not to everyone. Not to Eve, or Amenadiel, or Linda. It’s not that I’m incapable of earning love and respect.
I’m just incapable of earning his.
Her legs gave out. She crumpled against Lux’s outside wall and started to weep properly, loud and bitter.
Eve immediately dropped down beside her, holding her tight. Michael shuffled closer, rubbing his shoulder while his mouth opened and shut, testing out sentences that were never spoken.
Then Dromos was there, kneeling, his face sad and tired.
“We did what we were told,” she said to him in Lilim, through sniffles. “We obeyed. We were loyal. We… we…”
“We are alone, sister,” he replied. “But I think we always were.”
“We obeyed!”
“We obeyed Lilith and she left. We obeyed Lucifer and he left. No one wants us, Mazikeen. It’s just the truth.”
She took a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “No. I want us.”
Seizing his jacket’s shoulder, she hauled herself to her feet and addressed the crowd, her voice raw: “I want you! You’re my family and I want you! And I swear I will be the queen you deserve, for as long as you’ll have me!”
Her human skin fell away, the left side of her face turning cold, bony, and brittle.
Stepping back to join their siblings, Dromos asked hesitantly, “What would you have us do, then, my queen? What are your orders?”
Hurriedly drying her eyes, she studied them one by one. “Whoever wants to can stay here. But I’m going home. Hell is going to be ours, Dromos. No more damned souls. No more angels. It’s ours now and we’re going to make it into something we can love.”
She turned to face Eve and Michael, her heart pounding. “You’ll come with me, yeah? You’ll stand with me?”
“Always,” said Eve, closing in to kiss her.
“Whatever,” Michael muttered, clearly just relieved that the crying part was over.
Amenadiel sighed, shaking his head gravely. “Mazikeen, are you sure this is what you want? You won’t be able to leave Hell on your own – you’ll need to contact me.”
“Yeah. At least until this one grows his feathers back,” she said, gesturing at Michael. “That’s okay. You’ll always come when I call, right?”
“Of course. You’re my friend, Maze. I’m sorry if I haven’t said that often enough.”
Fuck it. Cringing on the inside, Mazikeen drew Amenadiel into a quick, gruff hug. “You too, idiot.”
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it's familiar, but not too familiar
(On AO3)
Summary: Months after Tomura is captured and placed under the care of Eraserhead, he's still having trouble adjusting to his new environment.
It helps that some things are still the same, though.
(In which Aizawa has a surprise, and Tomura accidentally reveals an awful fact about his past relationship with All For One.)
Notes: This is a recovery oriented fic, but Tomura is messy and still in the middle of it and still holds some harmful ideas that do not necessarily reflect the author's opinion.
cw: not explicit but contains mature themes, panic attacks, past csa, brief mentions of suicide (nothing that actually happens or is even actually considered), brief mention of mental hospitals, past abuse, vomiting.
Four months.
Four months since the League of Villains was disbanded. All his members were caught and shipped out to be ‘rehabilitated’ by professionals. He’s sure Toga’s out there making some psychologist just as miserable as they make her.
He hopes she’s having fun with it, at least.
Tomura got a special case himself; instead of being thrown in prison or a mental institution, he’s been placed under the care of Eraserhead.
On Yuuei’s campus, of all places.
They determined that he wasn’t much of a risk to the students, which is fair; every contact with the underworld he’d had in the League was severed or caught--everyone he was trying to change the world for is gone.
There’s no reason to try again.
Surveillance has eased up a bit over time; they didn’t explicitly say he was on a suicide watch when he first got here, but Tomura isn’t dumb. He knew why he wasn’t allowed to shut his door, why all his eating utensils were (and still are) plastic, why his bathroom has no lock on it.
Fair enough.
He wasn’t motivated enough to do even that much, though, even if it meant being stuck here, where everyone is so painfully kind that it makes him sick. He’s learned to tolerate it better over time, but he still can’t quite get over that he tried to kill them countless times in the past and now they’re acting all buddy-buddy with him, like how Eraserhead somehow got it in his head that Tomura likes to be touched (maybe because he closes his eyes and leans into it when he pets his head) and goes out of his way to do so. He's often met with shoulder pats and head rubs when he does something 'good' like pick up after himself or offers to help someone with something. He loves it It's embarrassing.
Eraser reminds him of Sensei. His thumbs aren't as large when they stroke over his cheeks, his words are a little more strict and his actions a little less so while Sensei was the reverse, but the touches are the same, the praise is the same (even if it's elicited by very different behaviors), and his presence is the same.
He feels guilty for that. All For One is rotting in Tartarus meanwhile Tomura is fighting to keep his name out of his mouth around Eraserhead (especially when all his students around call him 'sensei' too).
He's… always admired Eraserhead, ever since his attack on USJ; the way he threw himself into harm's way to protect his students, instead of leaving them to fend for themselves as a 'learning moment' as All For One so often did… That moment his fingers connected with the frog girl's face (–Tsu, her name is Tsu,) and nothing happened, because even while getting his face smashed into concrete he was more worried about his kids… in that moment, Tomura wished he'd had a teacher like that.
(His tantrum over Sensei misinforming him about how weak All Might– Toshinori really was may not have actually been fully about that.)
There is one key difference, though.
Eraserhead doesn't fuck him.
Tomura always expects those fingers carding through his hair to tighten and pull him into a kiss, or for Eraserhead to lean over and kiss his neck when they're sitting on the couch together, or for him to slip into his bed when he stops by to wish him goodnight every night.
He's always waiting on it. It was commonplace with All For One. He's used to it, having grown up his whole life getting fucked as both a treat and a punishment or whatever Sensei wanted to say it was at the time–it wasn't for him. It was for Sensei, and that was fine, because at least Tomura could always please him with his body. It made him happy that Sensei always liked him enough to touch him.
It really did.
So, when Eraserhead pops into the lounge area in the evening and beckons him to follow down the hall, he doesn't understand why his stomach drops. He doesn't understand why he's shaking as he stands in the doorway to Eraser's bedroom. And he doesn't understand why he wants to throw up and cry when he tells him to sit down on the bed.
"...been waiting for this a long time–"
Tomura stares at the floor, barely able to hear Eraserhead's voice over his own heartbeat as he brushes Tomura's hair for him (easier to stroke through, he supposes).
"–I think you're ready now–"
Why is it so hard to breathe? Why doesn't it feel warm like it did with Sensei? (Did it feel warm with Sensei…?)
"–at's wrong?"
Tomura lifts his eyes numbly to Eraserhead. His hand is on Tomura's shoulder, a slight crease in his brow as he stares at him, hairbrush loose in his other hand. He must have hesitated too much.
"Sorry," Tomura says, but it only makes the crease deepen as a flicker of concern crosses his face.
"Tomura?"
He pushes himself backwards up the bed on trembling arms, laying back with his arms at his sides. He stares at the wall opposite of Eraser, frustrated at his body's behavior. Suddenly he wants his hands back. He wants Sensei back. He wants the League back.
The bed shifts but doesn't dip like he expects it to. He doesn't feel too-big hands roaming his torso.
"...What do you think is happening right now?"
Tomura glances over to him. Eraser's brows are furrowed, standing with his hands clenched at his sides.
Tomura shoots upright. He missed something.
"Sorry," he murmurs, just trying to keep his voice even. "Do you want me to go first?"
He turns towards Eraser and starts to slide his legs off the bed, only to be caught by a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Stop."
Tomura freezes, staring up at him with wide eyes. Eraser's looking at him with so much horror and disgust and anger and it's been a long time but Tomura's pretty sure he's about to be struck across the face with a gardening tool.
Then Eraser crouches down onto one knee and Tomura's gaze follows him, too alarmed to look away. He starts to spread his legs apart for him, because maybe that is what he wants, but–
"Stop," he's told again, softer this time, and the movement of Tomura's legs halts.
"What are you doing?" Eraser asks, voice steady and firm as he finally eases that horror out of his expression, staring up at him hard.
"I– I'm sorry." It's okay to admit your mistakes. Which one did he learn that from? Who…? "I didn't hear what you wanted. Just tell me again; I'll be good, Sensei…"
"No." The hand on his shoulder squeezes–grounding, not painful. "I'm not him. You're not there."
"I know," Tomura says automatically.
"Where are you?"
He knows where he is, but he can't find the words in all his panic (stupid, stupid) and it only gets worse because he knows he'll think he doesn't really know.
"...Yuuei."
"Good." He nods and so much relief and warmth hits Tomura at the simplest little bit of praise. "Where in Yuuei?"
"Teachers' dorms."
"That's right. Okay," he breathes out, almost like he's... relieved. "Who am I?"
"Se– S– Uh…" Slip of the tongue. He knows it's not right, but there's only two names Tomura can think of right now.
Sensei… Father… Sensei… Father…
"...Eraserhead," he finally says. The tension that's been steadily building in Eraser's brow finally falls away as he shuts his eyes in relief.
"That's right." He offers Tomura a wary smile, hand moving up from his shoulder to cup his face. "You're safe. I'm not gonna–"
Eraser falters and Tomura can't understand why.
"–I'm not gonna hurt you."
"I know," Tomura replies, confusion spreading over his own face. He's still shaking, but he thinks it's from fatigue this time.
Eraserhead stares up at him, expression gentle as he strokes Tomura's cheek with his thumb. Tomura shuts his eyes and leans into the touch, trying to imagine the hand touching him bigger and less calloused.
"...He did that to you?" he hears Eraser utter, mostly to himself from the softness of it, but the underlying horror of his tone is loud and clear.
His eyes snap open, greeted by Eraser's face contorted with a deep concern. An odd sense of shame creeps up his back, pricking at his neck and face unpleasantly.
"Well…" Averting his gaze, his knees squeeze together suddenly. He tries to scratch at his neck but it's just not right through the goddamn gloves.
"...It was just our thing. It wasn't like that."
He avoids looking at Eraser, knowing he's wearing that worried and doubtful face. The haphazard rubbing just makes angry red marks appear along his neck, the skin unbroken and itchier than ever.
Eraserhead curls his fingers around his wrist, pulling without wrenching to cease his motions. Tomura lets him, tries to ignore the stinging itch and heat.
"...You thought I was…?"
He looks down, and Eraser is the one avoiding meeting his eye now. He's looking at his gloved hand, resting on his knee as he curls his fingers over Tomura's palm. Even from above he can see the absolute hurt on Eraser's face, and that crushing guilt he carries with him at all times pangs a little louder in Tomura's chest.
"I…"
Eraser shakes his head before he can continue, giving his hand a firm squeeze. He looks up at him, eyes serious and glinting with determination.
"I would never," he says with such conviction Tomura thinks he could almost believe him. "I would never–" He shakes his head again, struggling with the words. "–ever hurt you."
"It doesn't hurt," Tomura retorts.
"Tomura," Eraser says so firmly Tomura has to look away. "You were terrified."
Tomura can only drop his gaze, because that's true and he doesn't even know why.
They're both quiet for a long moment, and Tomura fixes on their hands intertwined in his lap, Eraser's thumb brushing over his knuckles. He doesn't think Sensei ever held his hand like this.
Eventually, Eraser draws a soft breath and Tomura's eyes flicker to his face. He nods towards the bed.
"Can I sit?"
"Yeah."
Eraserhead keeps his hand in his as he moves to sit a respectful distance away on the bed beside him, but apparently something in the way Tomura shifts towards him or the pathetic look he gives him makes him decide, after some clear deliberation, to let go and open his arms instead. Tomura clambers forward, letting himself be wrapped up in Eraser's embrace and tucks his head under his chin.
It's a good feeling, if not a desperate one; Eraserhead's rubbing his upper back (only his upper back, no matter how much he expects his hands to trail lower), and while he's not as big as Sensei he's just as easy to disappear into. He doesn't need to be big for Tomura to know he's safe in his arms, and he doesn't even have to lie to himself about it this time.
He doesn't quite return the embrace–he's still uncomfortable with initiating touch, especially with… these people–but he leans into him.
"You never need to be afraid of me," Eraser murmurs. "Remember? You never have to do anything that hurts, even if you can technically bear it. You should only do things that feel good."
He's heard it a dozen, a hundred, two-hundred times–it's one of the 'rules' they have for him.
Eraser tilts his head down to press a kiss to the top of Tomura's head, before resting his cheek in the same spot.
"I just want you to be safe and happy, Tomura. You don't have to hurt anymore, even for us, alright?"
He can't quite bring himself to say okay yet, which is why he's going to hear it at least another hundred.
Instead, he asks, "What was this all about, then?"
"I wanted to give you something."
Tomura is slow to pull away, savoring as much time pressed against Eraser's side and buried against his chest as possible. When he finally withdraws, Eraser leaves one arm over his shoulders, watching Tomura carefully as his red eyes peer up at him.
"Do you want it now?"
Tomura pauses, then nods once.
Eraser’s hand slides off his shoulder as he stands up to retrieve a rather plain looking box off the dresser–along with the key sitting atop it. First he sets the box aside on the bed, taking the key in one hand and holding the other out to him.
“Here,” he beckons. An odd feeling creeps up Tomura as he realizes what’s happening. He places his hand in Eraser’s, allowing him to unlock the clasp around his wrist, and the same for the other.
Tomura peels off the gloves, movements overshooting a bit without the weight around them. His fingers are a bit wrinkled from being inside them all day, and he rubs the red ring that has formed around his wrist from the restraints.
There are times he gets to take them off, of course. At least once a day, if not more–but he gets the feeling this is special, especially as Eraser makes a show of tossing the key away into his dresser. He eyes the box beside him as Eraser turns back to him, watching expectantly, but he can’t bring himself to take it just yet. He keeps his fingers curled into his palm–passive.
It’s not that he’s refusing; he’s just… afraid of what it means.
Stupid. It’s just a box.
Eraserhead seems to get the message though. He picks it up for him, turning it towards him and nudging up the lid with his thumbs so Tomura can see inside.
“I’ll have to keep an eye on you for a little while, but we think you’re ready to ditch the quirk suppressors.”
They’re gloves–sort of. Rather, it’s more like a finger cover; it sort of looks like a splint, just enough fabric for a single finger that goes down the side of the palm and finally wraps around his wrist. No cuffs, no keys, just a thin strip of material he can remove at any time.
He doesn’t know why his heart is beating so damn fast. Why he’d rather disintegrate the box and the covers inside and go back to his cuffs.
But he doesn’t do that. He forces himself to pick them out of the box, examining them closer. He can see a separate strip of fabric within, so he can’t accidentally decay them while he’s wearing them. He glances up to Eraser, who’s as neutral as ever but there’s definitely the ghost of a smile on his lips. He cocks his head, perhaps picking up on his hesitance. His eyes flick back down to the covers. He takes a deep breath and takes one, undoing the strap and fitting it over his pinky before securing it around his wrist.
“Feel better?” Eraser asks as he flexes his hand experimentally.
It’s much more comfortable than his cuffs. It breathes better, it’s lighter, it’s more flexible; he can barely feel it in comparison to how the suppressors weighed and squeezed on his hands.
Tomura only nods, not trusting his voice to speak.
He’s not choked up, it’s not tears, it’s– it– They shouldn’t trust him this much. Not yet.
“Are you sure?” Tomura whispers, even as he fits the other one on obediently. His eyes are on his hands, the covers, but he can practically see Eraser frown.
“I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I thought you weren’t ready,” he answers, simple.
That’s another difference between Eraserhead and Sensei. Sensei gave long speeches, not leaving much room for Tomura to argue, or question, or talk at all. All explanations, all reasons why, all directions.
Eraser is quick, succinct. He doesn’t need to ramble to justify himself.
The trembling is back. He folds his hands in his lap, wringing his fingers lightly, making sure they’re all touching him and nothing–no one–else. He wants to scratch his neck, especially now that he can use his nails, but that would make Eraser touch him and he doesn’t think Eraser should touch him right now. He can feel his eyes on him while Tomura stares hard at the floor, exhausted and anxious all at once.
Suddenly, he says, “You don’t owe me for this. Or any of us. This is a natural part of your recovery.”
Ah, so he thinks Tomura is still worried about…
“No, that’s not–” He tries to shake off his nerves, forcing himself to meet Eraser’s eye, forces a smile, like he always does. “I just wasn’t expecting this so soon. Thank you.”
Eraser tilts his head, studying him closely.
“Do you think you’re not ready?”
Tomura’s eyes fall back to his new gloves, smile falling as he flexes his hand.
“I’m not gonna take them off,” he settles on.
“Okay.”
“Sorry I got all worked up over gloves,” he huffs, trying to change the subject.
“No.” Eraser shakes his head, sitting back down beside him. “I should have made my intentions more clear. I'm sorry. I don’t blame you for getting nervous.”
Tomura glances away, trying not to bristle at the comment.
“There were just people hanging around the lounge, and I didn’t want– I thought you’d be more comfortable in private, so I brought you in here.”
“Yeah.” Tomura nods. “This was probably better.”
Cautiously, Eraser puts his hand on Tomura’s back. When he doesn’t recoil, he puts a comforting pressure behind it, occasionally stroking with his thumb. They sit there awhile, neither really looking at each other. Tomura can tell the cogs are turning in Eraser’s head just as much as they are in his own, considering his new gloves and what they mean.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Which part,” Tomura asks flatly.
Eraser answers seriously, “You and All For One."
“What is there to talk about?”
Eraser doesn’t sigh, but he releases an audible breath as he considers his question.
“How old were you when it started?”
“I don’t know,” Tomura answers honestly. He really doesn’t remember when a lot of things ‘started’ - his memory is pretty spotty overall, even now at times. “It’s been that way for as long as I can remember.”
He can feel the hand on his back tense. Eraser is quiet for a beat too long.
“You’ve been with him since you were five, right?” he asks, voice with little force behind it.
“Yeah,” he answers easily, automatic–trying not to consider it too closely. “That’s what I was told, anyway. I don’t remember much of it right now. Comes and goes.”
Eraser inhales shakily and exhales twice as bad. Tomura chances a glance at him, feeling himself starting to go numb again. He’s staring hard at the wall in front of him.
“And that–” He stops, tries again, “What- did you think of that? At the time.”
“I… He…” Tomura pauses.
“It was one way I couldn’t fail him,” he finally says. “It was normal. I didn’t think anything of it; it was just something we did together sometimes."
"You seemed scared of it happening again," Eraserhead points out.
That's true, and he still doesn't understand why. He's been expecting it. It's just like with Sensei–so why did it hurt so much…?
"You're not Sensei," Tomura offers solidly, even though he's not sure if that was the problem–if there even was a problem. Eraserhead isn't Sensei, and Tomura doesn't love him as much as Sensei, but… he still wants to please him. So why did the idea of pleasing him that way terrify him so much?
"That's true. Just because you're comfortable with one person doesn't mean you have to be with others."
Tomura lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Eraser rubs his back a few times while he evens out his breath again.
"Were you allowed to say no?" Eraser wonders.
"I wouldn't say no to Sensei."
"But could you have?"
"–Why are we still talking about this?" Tomura snaps.
Of course he couldn't fucking say no! He went months at a time without even being able to speak, and it's not like Sensei ever asked; he'd pull him aside during online matches, or wake him up in the middle of the night–sometimes it was even a punishment for fuck's sake–of course he couldn't say no.
But he hadn't wanted to say no. It felt good. He loves Sensei. He liked it. So why–? Why is thinking back on it now so scary? Why does it hurt–?
"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, Tomura. Tomura? Tomura– Breathe, you're okay."
He's hyperventilating. He distantly feels himself being pulled closer; an arm around his back, a hand on his chest trying to guide his pace, low murmurs about safety and rhythms.
He ducks his head into his hands, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as a manic smile pulls the corners of his mouth uncomfortably wide.
He whimpers through his teeth. "You got into my head!"
"I'm sorry–"
He's trying not to think about it, but his mind supplies the question "If Sensei were here and wanted to fuck you again, would it still feel good?" and he tries and tries and tries to push the answer away, but he knows that no; he would feel used and dirty and ashamed.
Just like he always did.
"He didn't hurt me!" Tomura insists, tears pricking at his eyes. He's not talking to Eraser. "Sensei loves me! Sensei–"
He can't squeeze anymore out, choking around a sob and too-small lungs. He's crushed against Eraser's chest in a bear hug, arms tight around him, forcing his breathing to ease a bit by restricting his chest.
"I know, I know," Eraser soothes, puffing hot breath against the top of his head. "Sometimes we hurt people we love without meaning to. You're right - it doesn't mean he didn't love you."
It's marginally soothing, the words, the pressure– but then he thinks, that's him; he always hurts the people he loves without meaning to– the League– and– they always– Sensei– Father– hurt him– That's all there– is–
"I'm gonna throw up," he wheezes, because even right now there's a part of him that remembers they're all sick of him vomiting straight onto the floor.
Eraser lets go right away. "Okay."
He takes his hands, guiding Tomura up and into his bathroom, where his knees hit the floor so hard it should hurt except he's so far beyond panic that he's watching, calm, from a distance as he hurls into the toilet. He does feel Eraser's fingers running through his hair though, catching all the loose stands and pulling them out of the way. He thinks he should thank him for that, but he can't when his throat is so fully occupied.
He has no idea how long it lasts; the seconds seem to fly by and last an eternity at the same time. He just knows that at some point he finds himself back inside his own body panting over the toilet bowl, no longer split in half between blind panic and eerie calmness.
(He wonders if that's what Twice feels like all the time?)
He feels Eraser's hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles while Tomura sits back and tries to catch his breath.
"All done?" he asks.
Tomura takes a few more shaky breaths before answering, "Think so."
They both wince at the roughness of his voice, his throat burning raw. Eraser reaches up onto the counter to grab a paper cup full of water and offers it to him, allowing Tomura to rinse his mouth out and then soothe his throat just a fraction. Eraser's hand never leaves his shoulder, watching him attentively as he finishes evening out his breathing. They both know that there's rarely a second wave, but he seems to be watching for one anyway.
After a moment, after Tomura’s breathing eases and he feels fatigue creeping into his bones, letting his eyes fall shut, Eraser asks, “Do you want a hug?”
Tomura nods without hesitation, lets himself be pulled into Eraser’s arms–gentle this time–and leans his head on Eraser’s shoulder. After a moment, the arms around him tighten a fraction, Eraser turns his head towards his ear to murmur, "I'm sorry for pushing you too hard."
Before Tomura can consider and voice a reply, Eraser pats his back and pulls away, getting his feet underneath him.
"Alright, let's get you to bed."
He helps Tomura upright, letting him lean against him as he guides him back out into the bedroom.
"Do you want to go back to your room?"
Tomura hesitates.
"...Can... I stay in here?"
It’s cozy in Eraser’s room. Empty, mostly, but it gives off an oddly calm and safe feeling that he’s not sure he would retain in his own bedroom. He’s not sure what kind of thoughts will overtake him if he’s alone.
Eraser doesn’t miss a beat. "In here? Alright."
He pulls back the blanket for him, helping him ease down onto the edge of the bed. His movements are clearly careful, deliberate, letting Tomura take things at his own pace. He resolves not to lay down just yet, even knowing Eraser won’t do anything; there’s part of him that’s still tense at the idea of laying down in front of him when he’s still hovering so close.
"Do you want the weighted blanket?"
What he's really asking is "are you sleeping in here tonight?" and Tomura nods without hesitation.
"Alright. I'll be right back, and I'll grab you some more water, too. Wait here."
Tomura is pulling his legs up and settling backwards onto the sheets before Eraser's even done talking, feeling his knees finally begin to ache. He doesn't get under the covers while waiting for him to return, knowing they're very much his and that he'll get his own in a minute. He is laying on Eraser's pillow, though. He tries not to let his mind wander back to Sensei, and instead takes in the scent surrounding him; thinks ahead to being wrapped up in safe arms.
Despite his whining, Eraserhead coaxes him upright again to drink some water when he returns, holding the glass to his lips for him. Then, finally, he unfolds the weighted blanket and helps drape it over him. The pressure is immediately soothing, taking his bone deep fatigue and frayed nerves and turning them to mere sleepiness.
He curls up on his side, half watching, half resting his eyes as Eraser crosses the room and flicks on the bedside lamp before switching off the overhead lights, plunging the room into a warm, dim lighting.
Eraserhead leans over the other side of the bed, resting his hand on the edge as he asks, "Should I get my sleeping bag, or will you be okay if I sleep up here with you?"
Tomura reaches his arm across the bed, trying to touch Eraser's hand but only managing to brush their fingertips together for a moment. Eraserhead closes the distance for him, taking Tomura's hand in his instead.
"Please," Tomura mumbles, giving it his best squeeze even as he's already beginning to drift off.
A beat.
"Okay."
Eraser tries to hold onto his hand as he climbs into the bed and under the covers, but has to let go as he shifts and adjusts. It's a full sized bed; he's clearly trying to keep a couple inches between them but through Tomura's insistent tugging and gradual shifting closer Eraserhead gets the message, nudging himself part way under Tomura's blanket. It takes away some of the pressure but it's quickly replaced by his arm over his shoulders. Tomura ducks his head beneath the covers to nudge himself under Eraser's chin and press up against his chest, letting out a contented sigh.
It's far too warm and too stuffy and Tomura has never felt so comfortable in his whole life.
A kiss is pressed to his crown, followed by a low murmur. "Goodnight, kid."
#shigaraki tomura#aizawa shouta#boku no hero academia#bnha#fanfic#my writing#long post#tw csa#tw child abuse#tw suicide#tw emetophobia#tw mental hospital#(mentioned only)
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Ok so some of your content implies immortal Alec and I was wondering how you thought it would happen? I've read a few things where Clary creates a rune/uses the alliance rune to make him immortal (but I don't think you're a real big fan of her) so I wanna hear your thoughts and also maybe Magnus's reaction
hoooooo boy i am GLAD YOU ASKED because i have a whole ass au that i have like. basically all the plot down but my stupid brain can’t turn into a fic so i guess im gonna shove it here and GOODBYE FOREVER
(also, about the clary thing: it’s complicated diaushduaih because i kind of really hate her in canon but i also accepted fanon clary into my life? mostly because i unfortunately can’t help but ship clizzy, but anyway, i kinda disassociate clary from canon. so i’m not really against the idea that she makes a rune or something, but i do think this idea is more interesting. or maybe it isn’t but then i guess that’s your personal problem because well, you did ask lol im jk btw)
okay so i have one word for you: seelies. hot diggity damn do i fucking love seelies or what
so you know how seelies are the offspring of demons and angels? and there’s this whole thing about demon blood and angel blood not mixing well at all? well, i was thinking, how the fuck does that work. and i came to the conclusion that whatever stronger parent they had’s blood would like, tame the other or whatever, you know? but then what if they had equally strong - or equally weak - parents? like a child of an archangel and a prince of hell, what the fuck happens then? or alternatively the child of some angel janitor and a minor demon, would they even have enough magic?
so i figured if that happens it’s like as if a seelie has an autoimmune disease - their body is fighting itself constantly. for those who have very strong parents, this means that they are decaying quickly, and usually won’t be able to like, survive for long if they don’t do something. for those who have weaker parents, it usually means they’re weak
so these seelies are actually born mortal, and for the ones with stronger parents, pretty much with a lifespan of like, a few days before they end up dying due to the autoimmunity. so what happens for those is, they have this Cool Ritual that makes them immortal and solves all their problems
basically what happens is: seelies are one with nature, correct? but they’re also, like, individuals. so they have their own magic, their own energy, their own life source. right? so what happens to these seelies is, they tie this life/magic source of theirs to that of the universe. they basically become one with the universe fully, instead of just guarding it and being connected to it, they are literally tied to it, so much so that their magic and the world’s magic is one and the same. basically their life is fed by the same source that feeds all life, even mortal ones, and that source is endless, so they become immortal. it’s not a cure per se, since it doesn’t really stop their blood from fighting itself, but it does solve the problem because it has endless energy to keep doing it. and after going through this magical ritual, they become basically the strongest seelies around, because they have access to very strong demonic and angelic magic and the like, natural source of the world. so that’s pretty cool
and this whole thing is like. absolutely top secret, no one but the seelies knows how it works or even that it exists. especially because the seelies used to be basically closed off to outside influences, besides the very few representants they had going to the realms (like meliorn)
meliorn is one of those super powerful seelies, a child of an archangel and a prince of hell, who has gone through this ritual. which is one of the many reasons they’re, you know, a super powerful and respected Seelie Knight, sent to deal directly with shadowhunters and the highest threats they have to deal with, all by themself. no one would be crazy to go against them, because they are extremely powerful. it’s also why they had, to seelie standarts, been given a slap to the wrist for taking clary to twi - i mean, they didn’t even lose their position in a super trusted and highly important job, really? like yes they were tortured and don’t get me wrong, that was fucking awful dude, but i feel like the seelie queen could have been a lot more cruel, could have taken away their job (it would make sense to since they basically committed treason by seelie law) or exiled them, or maybe even killed them. but they got “just” a physical punishment. that’s. weird to say the least
so that’s why, because meliorn actually has a lot of leverage and importance. they have a rare condition, a lot of power that most seelies can’t dream of, and they are extremely smart and have knowledge of the culture of our realm, which most seelies don’t since their realm is closed to outsiders. the seelies can’t afford to lose them. and they know that, too, which is why they went so hard to help clary and take her to twi in the first place - they knew that they would be punished, but that it wouldn’t actually risk their position, or their influence
anyway! with the previous seelie queen gone, i like to think that meliorn becomes the new seelie queen (random hc that no one asked for: since i refuse to believe that seelies have any concept of gender, i think the position is called “seelie queen” because outsiders took a look at the first seelie queen, who’s very cis female-presenting, and were like “ah, is that your queen?” and to seelies that basically translates to just “monarch” in whatever their language is, so they were just like yeah sure. and so the position is called that and they don’t even know that it’s supposed to be gendered and that to outsiders meliorn would probably be called seelie king, they are just like “i am the new seelie queen” and no one of course is going to fucking question why they didn’t gender the position, especially considering how fragile relations with the seelie realm are) or at least is given like, an important position or something. like tbh i don’t stan monarchy so :/ but anyway the point is, meliorn is super powerful, they are super smart, they have knowledge of the mundane, shadowhunter and etc cultures - and after the whole previous fiasco with the jonathan thing and the seelies having been basically kept from the other realms, despite the fact that as parts of nature, seelies should be able to wander between them as they please, i think they would want to start a radically new external policy, and who better than meliorn to help them do it? so yeah i think they would choose meliorn to be their queen. besides, they love the seelies more than anything. they might have disobeyed seelie law, but that was to like, save a whole ass realm lmao, but they’ve always had the seelies best interests at heart, hell, they were willing to be tortured twice for them. so i think they would be well liked, and want this new position, and treasure it not as a display of power, but as an opportunity to lead the people they love into better times
DISCLAIMER: i’m not saying that seelies bad or whatever, okay. tbh i do understand perfectly why they would want to close off their realm with the very real threat that shadowhunters presented, and i wouldn’t be dying to integrate with shadowhunter society either, especially considering that their idea of integration was just genocide and assimilation and the destruction of their culture. okay? but in the process, the seelie law and realm became cruel, first and foremost, towards seelies themselves, and the banishment of them from other realms is. very bad. and after the whole jonathan and valentine thing, the shadow society as a whole is being reconstructed, so what better time to try and create new alliances that won’t implicate into attempts of assimilation, etnocide and so on. it’s a new bet, basically, one that is only possible because shadowhunter society is also in shambles after the near destruction of the world, and this means that seelies have more leverage to try and build something new without yielding to them. and it’s a SLOW process, one that takes years and always has the seelies best interest’s, not the shadowhunter’s or anyone else’s, at heart, okay? and it implicates in shadowhunters giving them many concessions, and the strongest alliances between them are and will always be with the other downworlders - this is also something they are working on, making the different downworlder cultures closer and stronger politically, aiding each other mutually and helping each other reach their political goals. together, the downworlder societies are unbeatable, and the shadowhunters basically have no choice but to accept their demands, especially after so much destruction. plus, at least some of them are slightly more willing to. but it’s mostly a vicious political battle that takes all of them years, not to say decades, to settle
but the fact that the seelies are willing to do it and getting stronger relationships with warlocks and vampires and werewolves (and hoo here i come with my “maia and raphael start a vampires/werewolves alliance” hc because look that rivalry thing is STUPID and i want to see downworlder societies coming closer together and healing after being very obviously pitted against each other due to shadowhunter supremacy) is also what, well, allows the whole thing to happen. they are powerful, and the shadowhunters have no way of taking them on a war, much less now that their forces are well, fragile to say the least
in short! they have leverage now. and that makes it possible for them to try a new external policy that wasn’t in the table before, and their main interest in doing that is helping themselves, because seelies are tired of living in constant fear in a basically military state where they’re confined to the same realm despite them being supposed to be guardians of all of them. like that’s gotta affect their mental health, if they’re one with nature, wouldn’t being kept away from it be like being isolated from your loved ones? isn’t that deprivation? so like. this is about them, not the shadowhunters and how great their society is and how much they want to be a part of them, okay
anyway! so the seelies have designed a plan (because under meliorn’s rule everyone participates in political decisions because hmmm *checks notes* i said so) to make stronger alliances with the other downworlders. the first thing they offer them all is a little token of alliance. to vampires, they offer the possibility of becoming a dayligher - something they can easily do with their angel magic, not to mention, you know, blood -; to werewolves, magical amulets that help them keep their wolf under control, not turning without meaning to and being able to live a relatively normal life if they so choose; and to warlocks, knowledge of seelie magic
and of course magnus in particular eats that shit right UP because he’s a naturally curious person and a genius and a physichist and holy shit i love him so fucking much. seelies have so much more knowledge of physics and magic and their natural workings, so much so that it makes him dizzy because hell, the possibilities, and all the shit he can learn, okay. all this knowledge that was currently being kept away, and the warlocks get to learn about it (or well, part of it. obviously the seelies aren’t going to go around spilling EVERYTHING to them all at once before they even know if their token is accepted and whatnot. but they do teach those who are interested a lot of stuff, maybe create some sort of seelie-warlock magical school/course/programme/look you GET IT to strengthen their relationships as a whole?? boy i eat that shit UP). he’s just losing his mind here
super cute to think about alec coming home to find a very disheveled magnus surrounded by books and notes, hair and clothes rumpled and just a whole mess as he excitedly reads and writes and runs around to get a different book and draw parallels, okay. and alec smiles and has to be like “have you eaten?” and magnus looks up from his books all suddenly like “hm? oh hello alexander, i didn’t see you there”, “have you eaten?” “i don’t remember” “okay, i’ll make you something, you can keep reading” and magnus smiling all like “thank you” and diving right back into the notes in Super Hyperfocus + Hyperfixation Mode as he figures out, like, a thousand new spells (obviously warlocks can’t use seelie magic because they come from different sources they don’t have access to, but like, the knowledge is enough for them to create so much new stuff okay), btw. but anyway, ANYWAY
and to shadowhunters the seelies offer, i dont know, a soggy cheeto or something faiojdsajdasj look it’s not like the seelies owe them so they basically offer a truce and maybe authorization to explore certain parts of the seelie realm in small guarded groups? i dont know, in exchange for them and all other downworlders having a power and a vote in the new shadowhunter laws, and the whole proccess of reconstruction of their society. and the shadowhunters agree, after vicious infighting of course
so anyway years pass and things are blossoming, downworlder societies are stronger than ever and phucking florishing dude, shadowhunters suck less, seelies finally get to wander around like they’ve been wanting to for centuries, there’s been some neato cultural exchange, magnus is still figuring out spells and shit at an alarming rate to anyone who doesn’t know what a goddamn genius he is. and shadowhunter society is- well, changing, but there’s a kind of cultural war going on, you know, with such a strong shift in paradigm so sudden. the changes in schooling and shit that were brought on by the new accords kind of ensure that the newest generations are getting a very different view and education, but there’s still a lot of infighting from shadowhunters who want to undo all that hard work, which is of course still fragile because it’s only starting
and alec of course takes a primary role in that fight, being the greatest representative of the progressive shadowhunters’ (?) and their downworlder allies’ interests, inside shadowhunter society. like don’t get me wrong it’s not like he’s leading the downworlders, the downworlders are doing all that hard work so they can get their own destiny back into their own hands and not be led by shadowhunters anymore, but within shadowhunter society, alec is a leader and their greatest ally slash eye in the inside, defending the policies that downworlders create and letting them know what is going on inside of the clave. basically preparing a cultural war. you get it
so naturally alec is a threat to conservative shadowhunters and they’re trying to strip him off his runes all the time, and there’s even been a few (quickly failed) assassination attempts, you know, the whole. drama. and he plays an important role for this whole game, and magnus has been studying the whole immortality ritual thing, and yeah, the seelies offer to put him through the ritual
it’s a matter of political leverage (and okay maybe a personal favor to meliorn’s dear friend magnus, but like, mostly political leverage). first of all, making alec immortal gives him a lot of power within shadowhunter society, not unlike meliorn and being the child of super powerful parents. second of all, no need to worry about assassination attempts, they can’t fucking kill him! third of all, clear message - alec has powerful allies, way more powerful than the shadowhunters can dream of, and if shadowhunter society is willing to create real, lasting equality with downworlders, they have a lot to gain. if not, they have a lot to lose, because the seelies have literal power over life and death. also, alec better watch his step, too, because, you know. he owes them that one. they are not stupid, they know alec has been looking for a way of becoming immortal for years now, know how much he desires this. it’s also about keeping his loyalty, and making sure he doesn’t forget, he’s supposed to be their ally too
and there are a lot of like, security things in place. alec will not be able to see or hear anything, he will not be taught how the ritual works (not even warlocks know that yet), he will not be taught about its forces, it will happen in the seelie realm and he will go alone, and no other shadowhunter will be granted that unless the seelies themselves offer at a later time, you know, etc etc. they list off things and precautions he has to agree to for like, half an hour, and honestly they could have added “alec will have to eat a piece of the moon” and alec would be like “okay fine great let’s do this”
magnus is fucking terrified
first, because well, they have never attempted to do that on someone who isn’t a seelie, and while they have figured out a pretty damn good understanding of how it works and are pretty sure it should go smoothly, there’s no way to actually tell. it might not work. alec might regret it. does he really want this? to become immortal? he doesn’t have to say yes, and magnus will not be upset, because he would never, ever demand such a huge sacrifice from him-
and alec’s like “nope i want this let’s go” which only terrifies magnus more because it feels like he’s being impulsive, you know? and he doesn’t know if there’s any turning back from this. but alec is like “magnus, when have i ever been impulsive? i’m not impulsive, i’m just sure of what i want, and there’s no reason to dwell on it because that’s already done.” alec is an expert at dwelling on things, and when he makes a decision, it’s because that part has already been thoroughly done, with every single possible argument being exhausted and taken apart minuciously and careful. there’s no room for doubt anymore, because if there had even a spectre of it, alec would still be ruminating. he doesn’t make a decision until he’s sure, but by god, once he makes it, he is sure, and nothing will stop him
so he reassures magnus of that (“hey, look at me. i’m not doing this on a whim. i have been looking for something like this for years. i’ve given it a lot of thought. besides, the seelies reasoning is good, too; i do want to have the time to dedicate myself to these changes, to building a new society, and with that, i can do it. there’s so much i want to live and see and do, magnus. and i want to do it by your side, yes, always, forever, but it’s not just about that. this is my decision. i’m not doing it for you. you won’t owe me anything because of it. you won’t have to make it up for it. because i’m doing it for myself. okay?”) and magnus kind of chokes up and hugs him and cries because he’s so overwhelmed by everything, the fear and the adoration and the relief of knowing that alec isn’t doing this just because of him, because if he had, magnus would forever feel like he was ruining his life, like he was indebted, like he would have to make up for it. but alec wants this. truly. and he doesn’t have to- worry anymore, this constant weight in his head, that tells him this has an expiration date, you’re gonna lose him. look at how much time you’re wasting with all of this, he’ll be gone before you even notice. there’ll be no turning back, and you’ll regret it forever. and fuck it’s just- so much, okay
so alec hugs him and they repeat to each other, i love you, i love you, i love you, and the next day, alec accepts the seelies’ offer.
and magnus is- fuck, terrified, because he can’t even go with him, can’t even watch. there’s nothing he can do but wait
but everything goes relatively smoothly and alec emerges from the seelie realm exactly as before, no change to be noted, not even when magnus scanned him with his magic - it’s all still there. still a shadowhunter, still the same runes, the same face, the same hazel eyes, the same smile and voice, and when he hugs and kisses magnus, it feels like just the same
and then i suppose alec can now, like, talk to trees or something, since he’s connected to the whole force of nature and whatnot. i don’t think he would be able to use magic, because like i said, he’s still the same and a shadowhunter so it’s more that his angelic magic is stronger? but he’s fucking immortal dude, and he can like talk to trees, which is at the very least funny as hell (cracky images of alec discussing with some shadowhunter asshole and he’s like, even your SUCCULENT is tired of you!! but i digress)
anyway the point is, it works both in the sense of immortal alec, baby! and the whole political leverage thing, and they basically revolutionize all of shadowhunter society and alec lives to see the results of that besides magnus, and meliorn is the greatest seelie queen ever, and the downworlder societies are all happy and blossoming and getting their best life, and everyone is happy, and the bigoted shadowhunters die and are hated by their own plants. the end
#god this is huge#but im glad its off my chest now lmao#if you have any criticisms or issues with how i handled this whole plotline id love to hear it#because i don't mean to be disrespectful or come across as like villainizing seelies or making it about alec or whatever#but you know#ask#anonymous#sh#shadowhunters#alec lightwood#magnus bane#immortal husbands#immortal alec lightwood#malec#sh au#malec au#lore#seelies#meliorn#brief maiaphael mention because im all about that shit
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Have I Been A Bad Boy, Professor? - A Theodore/Neville fic (no one asked for)
Summary: “Theo…what are you doing here? And what are you wearing?” He asked, Theo was supposed to be going shopping with Pansy and Draco right now, it was in the middle of the afternoon
“I’m here to serve my detention” He leaned over and smiled “Professor”
“Wh-what detention?” Neville asked and Theo stood straight again, he began unbuttoning his robes and let it slipped down on the floor, Neville gaped
Of all the thing Neville have expected, he did not expect this to happen, at all
Word count: 1348
Read here on ao3
Look, I know it’s a rare ship but I love them and I was in the mood for smut, and I was in the mood to write a fic for my babies. Those two are so good together, and underrated as well. Neville is so soft, I know, that's why I want to challenge myself to write a kinky one, it was hard. Personally I love them, Theo being all beautiful and everyone falls for him, but instead he pays attention to the shy boy who always stands behind everyone and cares for his pet or the plants more than anything, who would have thought. Neville would always think how the hell did he manage to have Theo as a boyfriend, but Theo loves him...oh god I love them. No hate to the ship, please
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“Come in” Neville said as soon as he heard knocking on his doors, he stopped grading papers and looked up, what he didn’t expect was the fact that Theo was wearing his Slytherin robes, which still fitted him magically. Theo made his way in and stood in front of Neville’s table, smirking “Theo…what are you doing here? And what are you wearing?” He asked, Theo was supposed to be going shopping with Pansy and Draco right now, it was in the middle of the afternoon
“I’m here to serve my detention” He leaned over and smiled “Professor”
“Wh-what detention?” Neville asked and Theo stood straight again, he began unbuttoning his robes and let it slipped down on the floor, Neville gaped
“Y-you…” He stared at the man in front of him with shock, Theo has always had a slender body, but him wearing a white shirt that was tied up to look like a crop top, and he was obviously wearing a short skirt, the one the girls usually wear “What are you wearing inside?” He swallowed hard, Neville was never the one to do kinky stuff, Theo said he was too soft, but Theo loved that about him. But this…this was a whole another level
“Have I been a bad boy, Professor?” Theo sauntered around the table and stood in front of Neville, he pushed Neville’s legs close together and sat on it, straddling him
“I-…” What was Neville going to say? He has never done this kind of stuff before. Theo leaned in and whispered in his ear
“Would you punish me, Professor?” He said softly and Neville shuddered “Would you fuck me hard on this table until I cry, Professor?”
“I-…yes? No!” He stuttered and gasped when Theo began grinding against him, his hands remained on the arms of the chair, he didn’t dare move.
“Please, Professor, I’d do…anything” Theo said and nibbled on Neville’s ear, licking his earlobe, he shivered “I have been a very, very bad boy”
“Er…” He couldn’t take it anymore, his hands came up to cup Theo’s face and he pulled the man into a kiss, when they kissed, he could smell lavender on him, Theo has a special smell, he didn’t need to use cologne, and Neville loved it, he could taste jasmine tea on the tip of Theo’s tongue, his hands came down to slid up his thighs and under the short skirt, he gasped and pulled away
“You…are you wearing…?” Neville asked, oh Theo was wearing something that was definitely not from him, he could feel the string and the lace and…and he could feel his own hardness every time Theo rubbed it against him
“Fuck me on the table, Professor” He said and stood up, he left Neville’s lap and bent over the table, which was still covered with papers and books, he began pulling his skirt up slowly, revealing the red panties he was wearing, Neville swallowed
“Come on Professor, fuck me until I can’t come anymore” He said and Neville sighed out, he could never resist when he saw Theo’s beautiful arse. Alright, if Theo wanted him to be kinky, he could be kinky…well, he could try “I know you want to”
He pulled the red panties down and grabbed Theo’s pale arse, pulling them apart and to reveal the pink entrance, he swallowed again and chewed on his lips
“Please” Theo begged, and oh his voice was so soft, Neville asked himself, if he couldn’t be brave, how could he be the Head of the Gryffindor house? So he took a deep breath and dived in, he licked around the rim, making his way slowly inside after he had casted wandless spells to clean and lube it. Theo moaned and gripped on the table to steady himself, once he got in, his tongue started swirling around and jabbing it, he knew where Theo’s sweet spot was, so while the man in front of him kept whining, he remained and did his job, to make Theo come.
“Please, fuck me” Theo cried out when Neville pushed a finger inside “No need for fingers, hurry” Neville obeyed, he lined himself up at the loose entrance and pushed in, Theo gasped and pushed the ink bottle down on the ground, spilling it everywhere. But he will not stop, he thrusted faster, hitting the sweet bundle of nerve inside Theo, making him crying out his name
“Aaah please” He begged, Neville bent over and kissed the nape of his neck, he whispered in his ear and pinched Theo’s nipple from under his shirt
“Please what?” He did not think he had just said that
“Fuck me harder, Professor” He cried out, even the table was making squeaking sound, so Neville listened, he thrusted in harder and began stroking Theo as well, the man under him whimpered quietly
“Aah please!”
“Don’t come until I say so” He ordered and Theo whimpered louder, pushing a few pieces of papers down the floor
“Please Professor, let me come” He cried out and called Neville’s name out repeatedly
“Come for me, Theodore” He mumbled and Theo did come, spurting on the floor and on the table while Neville was still ramming inside, he fucked Theo through his orgasm and finally came inside a few thrusts after. He wrapped his arm around Theo’s waist and pulled him along when he sat back on his chair, Theo leaned against him and smiled
“Hey” He began and winced a bit when Neville pulled out
“One question…” Neville replied, well maybe he had more questions than that
“Let me explain” Theo said and turned, kissing Neville on his cheek “I was going shopping with Pansy and Draco, when they told me kinky stories in their bedrooms”
“Really?”
“Yeah, Pansy started it, she role played as a student and came asking Hermione, the Professor, to save her grade, and she would do…anything to make it happen. You know, I didn’t think Hermione would be able to do that…turned out, they both love it” Theo said and changed his position, he straddled Neville’s waist and buried his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck
“And what about Draco?”
“Oh I don’t know, they’re probably doing it right now, Draco and I listened to her, the skirts are from her” Theo pointed down to the short skirt he was wearing
“So that’s why” He said and Theo hummed happily
“Yeah, I didn’t think you would…be on board” Theo mumbled “You were always so gentle, I love you for that, but today was…I love it too” He smiled
“I didn’t think I’d be able to do it too…but when I saw…”
“My pretty arse?” Theo looked up and chuckled “I know you love it”
“And I love you, I’d do anything for you, even if it’s kinky”
“I tried so hard not to blurted out and called you my daddy right there and then” He suddenly said and Neville froze
“R-really?”
“Oh honey, you were so hot” Theo smiled “We’ve been together for more than a year and this is the first time you fucked me that hard. And ordering me not to come, I felt hot all over for you”
“Did you like me…like that?” Neville asked quietly
“Yeah sure, I love you being soft more, but it’s no harm to get a quick, hard fuck once in a while, right?” Theo smiled and gasped when he felt a finger circling around his still loose entrance, Neville smiled and leaned to whisper in his ear
“Because I think I like me like that sometimes too” Neville said, thrusting two fingers inside, earning a gasp from Theo
“Oh, you’re wild today” Theo chuckled “And…I think I came a bit on your students’ papers”
“It’s fine” Neville smiled pushed a third finger in as well “We can deal with it later”
Maybe he could be kinky and wild after all…alright maybe once in a while, for the man he loved, he could do anything.
#my writing#theville#theodore nott#neville longbottom#background drarry#background pansmione#draco malfoy#pansy parkinson#hermione granger#harry potter#drarry#pansmione#ficlet#drabble#lemon
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Saying that Billy Hargrove is a polarizing character is putting it mildly in this fandom. I’ve always hated that the Duffers wanted him to exist purely for the reason of having a “human villain”. Why does Billy need to fill that role when you already have an organization full of evil dudes experimenting on kids? If they wanted someone more specific, there’s always Neil Hargrove. He’s a piece of shit who beats his son on the regular, and actively destroyed Billy’s relationship with Max by turning her into his walking, talking punishment. He’s an abuser who turned the abused into another abuser, and if that’s not the peak of human villainy I don’t know what is.
It also really bothers me when people hate Billy because he “doesn’t deserve redemption” and “should die for what he did”. Apparently, shipping Harringrove means people want Steve to be in a violent relationship with a racist, which cannot be further from the truth. Literally 99% of Harringrove fics have Billy getting the help he needs, admitting his past mistakes, and becoming a better person in the progress.
Steve has been one of my favourites since season 1, back when most people still disliked him. I wouldn’t put him in a relationship with a one-dimensional asshole and make him suffer just for the sake of shipping. (Though this is the accusations that some people like to make.)
The reason I wanted to write this post about Billy Hargrove is because he reminded me of a boy I used to know when I was in the second grade. We were only classmates for about 2 months, since I moved to Canada right after, but his name is the only one that I remember from back then. (The following story is deeply personal, and please note this trigger warning for child abuse.)
This boy was what everyone would call a “problem student”; someone who couldn’t sit still in class and had terrible grades. He was always in trouble with the teacher for being too loud and noisy. When you live in an East Asian country like Taiwan where grades are super important, this is a big red flag and people generally wouldn’t want to be friends with this person. When I think about it now, I’m pretty sure he had ADHD. But this was back in 1999, and ADHD wasn’t exactly a widely understood mental disorder.
Despite this boy being a “problem child”, he wasn’t a bully. (My mom told me a story of a real bully from when she was young. He was also terrible at school, but he was a star player on the baseball team. He would walk up an aisle of the classroom and slap his classmates’ heads as he walked by. My mom got smacked almost every day, but he got away with it because he was athletic. Unfortunately for the boy in my class, he wasn’t outstanding in sports either.)
I remember distinctly that he was nice and excited whenever I talked with him. He certainly didn’t go around hitting people, or else I wouldn’t have given him the time of day. We didn’t hang out together at recess, but he would lend me his Tamagotchi for an entire week before asking for it back. My mom told me that whenever she brought me to school, he would stop to speak with her, and he was always very polite. I didn’t think much of our interactions at the time, as he was just another classmate to me.
One day, he showed up at school with literally half his face covered in black and blue. You know the type of bruises people get if they’re slapped or punched? This wasn’t like that. This was like someone took black paint and slopped it on one side of his face. It was that opaque.
My mom and I were shocked when we saw him. She went to ask him what happened, and he told her that his father hit him with a wet towel because he stole some money. She asked him how much he stole, and it turns out he stole five dollars because he wanted to buy erasers. My mom told him that he shouldn’t steal; that he should ask his dad next time and tell him he wants to buy school supplies. The boy said he did ask, but his dad wouldn’t lend him the money which is why he stole it instead.
I remember very clearly that he didn’t cry, or act like he was in any pain. In fact, he was so nonchalant about it that one of the thoughts that went through my 7-year-old brain was, “Oh, maybe it’s not as bad as it looks?”
I’m old enough now to understand his dad probably beat him so much that he wasn’t even phased by it anymore. You don’t get that kind of bruising from being hit once with a wet towel. (Hell, you don’t get that type of bruising from being hit five times with a wet towel. It’s amazing that he didn’t go deaf from the abuse.) It really bothers me that I wasn’t more bothered about it back then, but the image of his bruised face has stayed with me for eighteen years.
My mom was so angry when she heard what happened to him. She went to tell the teacher, who was also a counselling advisor for the school. My mom’s first thought was that she is more qualified to speak with students, and maybe she will be able to do something about it. But when my mom told her what happened, my teacher said, “His grandparents told me he’s always causing trouble at home, and that he never learns no matter how many times they teach him.”
What she really meant was that his family all thought it was apt punishment and that he deserved it for his behaviour. She wasn’t going to do anything about the abuse. (Now, I don’t know if my teacher had already tried to help him and wasn’t able to, but my mom told me she came out of that conversation feeling very disappointed and upset at the outcome. She never forgot his name either.)
Days passed and his bruises faded. One day, the boy left in the middle of the class, and someone asked where he went. The teacher said his mom came to visit him, so she let him take the day off to spend with her. I didn’t realize his parents were divorced until this moment. At the end of the school day, I was standing outside the classroom. I saw him with a woman I had never seen before, and he was holding onto her and sobbing. He didn’t want his mom to go.
I remember thinking to myself, “Why doesn’t he just stay with his mom? He really seems to like her more.” (My mom has told me since that the system in Taiwan favours the father when it comes to child custody, similar to how the system in Canada favours the mother. It could also be a case that she wasn’t able to support him financially, but I don’t know for sure. All I know is that I’ve never seen him cry until that moment. He didn’t even shed a tear at school after his dad had beaten him black and blue.)
Fast forward a month or so and I was going to leave; I was immigrating to Canada with my family. When I was saying goodbye to all my friends, he gave me a farewell present. It was this little book that had a bit of water damage. I could tell it was something of his, and that he has spent time reading it. I’ve gone through the book a few times, and from what I remember I enjoyed reading the short mystery stories and riddles in it. When I told him I was leaving, he cried harder than most of the friends that I actually hung out with.
Over the last 18 years, I’ve thought about him from time to time. But it wasn’t until two days ago that I really pondered why I haven’t forgotten his name, and why it seems like most of the things I remember from those two months of second grade in Taiwan involved that boy.
At the time, I was in the shower thinking about how I should write Billy’s character, since I wanted to tackle his childhood days in my story. One thing led to another and suddenly, I was thinking about the book that my classmate had given me. To my absolute dismay, I couldn’t remember where I put it.
It was around 2:00 AM, and I had work the next day but I found myself going through my desk drawers and my bookshelves because I really needed to find this book. I tried to remember where last saw it, and I had this creeping sense of dread that maybe I left it back in Taiwan, which means I may never see it again. This made me think about why I didn’t bring it with me when I moved, and if I did, why can’t I remember where I put it?
The answer? It just didn’t matter that much to me.
For the first time in my life, I sat down and really processed my experience with this boy that I barely knew. It broke my fucking heart, and I’m still highly emotional about it even as I type this out. I realized that this boy probably didn’t have things. His dad beat him for stealing five dollars to buy erasers and yet he lent me his toy for a week. He couldn’t go and buy the most basic of school supplies but he gave me his book. And I don’t even remember where I left it.
Unlike some people in my class, I was friendly to him. But even though we talked, I don’t remember thinking of him as a friend. I was the vice class president and he was someone who was always getting in trouble, and that put an invisible barrier between us. (You don’t hang out with the problem child, the stigma was always there. Even though I knew in my heart that he wasn’t a bad kid.) Thinking about the way he cried when I said goodbye, I realized that to him, I was his friend.
I’ve honestly been bawling my eyes out over the past few days at this revelation. I wish I had talked to him more. I wish that I was genuinely his friend. I wish that I hung out with him at school because he was abused at home and I can’t recall if he had any friends of his own.
I wish I knew what I know now so I could try to help him.
It hits me the hardest when I think about where he might be now. Did he manage to get away from his dad and his grandparents, who stood by and enabled the abuse? Did he grow up to be a delinquent or a gangster and follow in his dad’s violent footsteps? Did he get to stay with his mom when he was older? Is he still the kind boy who shared what little he had with a girl that only spoke to him sometimes?
I tried to look him up on Facebook, but I can’t recall his face enough to recognize him, even if I did find the right person. (There are multiple people with the same name, and none of their profiles listed the elementary school I went to. I’m not really surprised, e-mails barely existed back then, let alone Facebook.) I’m not sure what I would say to him, or if he even remembers me. How should I react, if he had in fact turned into a horrible person? But regardless, I want to thank him for the book, and for thinking of me as his friend.
Sometimes my thoughts would go very dark and I’d wonder if maybe he had died from one of his dad’s beatings. I try not to think about that, I want him to be alive and happy. I hope he’s living a normal life now, surrounded by people who care about him.
I guess I realized that this boy I knew could have easily grown up to be a Billy Hargrove, and it’s a fucking travesty because he was stuck in a situation where nobody helped him. I think back to the scene where Billy’s dad slapped him around, while his stepmom stood by and watched. Let’s just say I view his character in a different light after my own emotional journey. We don’t know what he’s been through growing up; who he was before his dad twisted him into the volatile teen that he is today. This is why I will never agree with people who don’t think he deserves a chance at redemption.
I told my best friend about this yesterday, and she cried with me. I thought that maybe her tears were for his plight, but then she told me something that floored me. She said that I shouldn’t beat myself up over this because I was seven years old, and seven-year-olds don’t think about things the way a twenty-six-year-old would. She told me that she believed I was a kind friend to him even if I felt like I wasn’t genuine, because that’s who I was for her when we were young.
I didn’t understand at first, and then she told me that she had really bad anger issues before we became friends. She bounced from classmate to classmate, and she felt terrible because she wasn’t really close to anyone. It made her isolated and angry, to the point that she punched a hole in her wall. She said that after she met me in the sixth grade, she told herself that she has to get her anger under control, because she felt like she’ll scare me away, and she wanted me to be her friend. I told her I never felt that from her, and she cried harder because that meant she succeeded. Its profound how much you can mean to someone without even realizing it, and this is something that I don’t think I would have learned if not for the character of Billy Hargrove.
When I ship Harringrove, I’m not doing it to “fetishize gay men” or to “put Steve in an unhealthy relationship for the sake of having two attractive white guys getting it on”, as some people like to assume. I see in Steve someone who is dealing with his own issues back at home, and is genuinely a nice guy who cares and likes to help people. I see him as someone who can reach out to Billy and support him when he has nobody else on his side. The Steve in my mind would be the person to give Billy the motivation to change for the better.
It won’t be easy for Steve, but helping Billy isn’t a burden that I place on this character. It’s not some trial that I put him through for the drama of this ship. I now know firsthand the regret you feel when you leave someone you could have helped behind, and the absolute relief when you do end up making a difference for a person you’ve grown to care about. I love Steve, and he’s not going to feel this regret because he’ll do better than I did in my stories. And it’s not just a one-way street, because after Billy gets the help he needs, he’s going to turn right back around and support Steve through his traumas as well. Billy’s strong in a different way, and they could be so good for each other.
This is the potential that Harringrove shippers see in their relationship. Before you go around judging or sending hateful messages, actually stop to take a look at why people like these two characters together. You may be surprised by what you find.
#harringrove#thanks for coming to my ted talk#billy hargrove#steve harrington#testing to see if the tags work this time#my writing
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Ben Solo, the One and Only
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
WARNING: This chapter starts off with very mild smut, has some exposition, then full blown smut and ends with regular storytelling. If you aren’t cool with that, I’ve marked the start of the more intense stuff with three stars (***) and it’ll end with the first line break. There are also a few curse words in the beginning. On another note, (FIC SPOILER ALERT) there will also be some death, it’s not at all graphic, but I thought it should be mentioned just in case. Other than that, there’s not much to it. Happy reading everyone!
Chapter 5
Vivian woke up naked on an empty bed the next morning. Her body felt sore and she took notice of the many love bites and hickeys that bruised her skin. She tried to walk to her dresser but promptly fell to the floor as a result of last nights antics. Will it always be like this? On her second attempt, she used the surrounding furniture as a support system to pick out a silk, thin strapped nightgown and make her way back to the bed. By the time she laid down again, her glorious lover walked into the room and joined her.
“I thought I told you last night not to hide that precious body,” he nagged her, “How are you feeling?” Ben leaned over her to kiss over some of the bruises as he rubbed his hand over her thighs.
“Sore and everything kind of hurts, but I feel good. You made me so feel incredible that it left me wanting more every time,” she told him.
“Is this you asking for round two?”
“Round two? More like round twenty! We started around midnight and finished minutes before sunrise!” she exclaimed.
“Hey, you said it yourself, I had you begging for more - you were asking for it.” he defended himself.
“True,” she admitted, “and I’d be lying to you if I said I wouldn’t want some more right now.”
He closed the little distance between them with a kiss and she happily complied, bringing her hands to hold his cheeks. Their bodies started to grind against each other and Vivian bit her lower lip to suppress a moan as she felt Ben’s member press close to her entrance. His colossal hands got rid of the thin fabric hiding her equally soft skin and he appreciatively grabbed at her breasts. As she let out a soft moan and arched her back, there was another sound in the room that made both of them lose focus, Ben’s comm device.
He reached over to the nightstand and viewed the caller’s name before breathing out a soft, “Damn.”
Vivian was disappointed by their interruption but took the opportunity sitting on Ben’s lap to softly suck at the nape of his neck. Although he was exceedingly enjoying her actions, his voice came out annoyed as he answered the call, “What the hell do you want Dameron? I’m busy.”
“What do I want? I want you to get your ass over here on base before your mom strangles someone!” Poe responded.
Vivian could also hear the other side of the call and gave Ben a concerned look. She didn’t want him to leave but she also didn’t want him to get trouble when he got home. He gave her a quick, reassuring peck and continued, “I already talked to her, I’ll be there in a few hours.”
“Man, just finish fucking whatever whore you’re with and get back here.”
Vivian froze. She instantly stopped kissing Ben and her arms went limp. Ben took a look at her eyes, they looked so heartbroken, and he immediately turned red with rage.“Fuck off Poe, you don’t know anything.” he snarled and hung up.
The two sat in silence, neither really knowing how to approach their current situation. Ben stroke Vivian’s hair and pressed a loving kiss on her forehead, “Sweetheart, you’re nowhere near being a-”
“Ben, how many other women have you been with before me?” Vivian cut him off, not wanting to hear that foul word come out from his lips.
“Let’s not talk about that,” He moved forward to kiss her again but she put her hands on his chest to stop him from proceeding.
“Please, Ben, I want to know,” she pleaded, “I promise I won’t get mad.”
“Do you want to know how many mattered or how many in total?”
She glared at him.
“Alright fine, fine. Besides you, there’s only been one other girl I’ve been serious with. She was my training partner at my uncle’s camp and we were really close with one another. She was my first,” he confessed, “but then I realized she wasn’t in love with me, not really. She was, however, in love with the idea of me. The handsome, most famous son of the galaxy.”
“Is that why you’re so vague with me sometimes, always quick to avoid telling me who you really are?”
“Yes,” Ben sighed with an anguished expression, “but even though I’ve hidden stuff from you, I’ve always been honest.”
She hummed at this, intently thinking on her next question, “Was she the reason you stopped training with your uncle?”
“No. Well, she’s an unfortunate add on to a list of reasons as to why I left. The biggest reason is that my uncle is a coward; he was worried about the possibility of me switching to the enemy side, even though I gave him no reason to believe that way.”
“I always refused the enemy’s tempting offers and strayed far away from their methods, but my uncle insulted me in saying it wasn’t enough proof for him. At some point in my late teens, I had enough, packed my bags, and went back home. I became a pilot like my dad and inherited his ship.”
It was obvious that he was uncomfortable talking about his uncle, so Vivian changed the conversation back to their original topic, “And the other women you’ve been with? You said they didn’t matter.”
“Not to me. After that first relationship, I learned that people wouldn’t care about who I really was and anyone would use my status to take advantage of me - it made me so angry with everyone. I didn’t start picking up girls until a years after I learned to fly and one of them got me drunk enough to follow her into bed. But those girls were nothing more to me than just a way of blowing off steam, a way of alleviating some of that rage.”
“Listen to me,” he put a finger underneath her chin to make her face him, “last night was better than every other night I’ve spent with any other woman combined. You made the difference, my sweet, sweet Vivian. I love you.”
Vivian had stayed expressionless for most of the conversation, but tears began to trickle from her eyes at his last few words. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tightly embraced him while still naked on his lap. Ben returned the hug and lovingly caressed her back. After a few moments, she moved to look at him and returned the “I love you.” They decided to pick up where they left off before Poe’s call but they were obnoxiously disrupted once more by messages being sent to Ben’s comm device.
“I know that I should head back as soon as possible but I wish I could stay here forever,” he sighed.
“You should probably wash up before leaving though, you kind of look like a mess,” she smiled, giving him a suggestive gaze.
“I blame you. Join me?” he asked and she simply smiled.***
“I can’t stand. I tried to earlier but fell.” Her words roused Ben even more as he took pride in having been the one who made her weak. He gave her a bright grin and lifted her off the bed, wrapping her legs around his waist, “No need for you to stand when you’ve got me, sweetheart.”
Ben carried her into the showering system and she turned it on. Hot water began to pour like rain, soaking their bodies as they sloppily kissed. He held her against the wall and lowered one of his hands closer to her aching entrance. Then, he inserted his thumb, swished it back and forth inside of her. Another finger joined the first and had her mewling in pleasure as he thrust them both at a rapid speed. By the third finger, they could both tell that she was reaching her peak. Although his fingers were thick, they were nowhere near as big as his massive member. They were, however, satisfyingly large enough to make her feel as if she could come at any moment. Which she did - tightening around his fingers and releasing a myriad of fluids onto him.
When he was highly satisfied with his work and brought his hand to his mouth, savoring her taste from each finger. Ben loved seeing her disheveled face as she came down from her high, digging her nails deep into his flesh.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he groaned and spread her legs even further. Vivian slid her hands down his chest and faced upwards to feel the water hit her, loudly gasping as he grabbed his hardened member and deeply penetrate her. From the start, Ben set up a fast pace, eagerly pounding into her, leaving them both out of breath. By then, the glass that encased them had been fogged up from the hot water, making it difficult to see, but it didn’t matter. He was inside her, feeling her, loving her - there was nothing more important to him.
She tugged on his wet hair as a now familiar tension began to grow from the pit of her stomach but she denied it from releasing. Not until he comes, she promised to herself. It was a difficult promise to keep, especially considering that Ben vowed the same in regards to her pleasure. He let out a long, low sounding growl and with a final push, his senses crashed around him and into her. They felt as if they were floating in an endless sea of bliss. In the same position, they rested their heads together, smiling and out of breath.
Ben carried Vivian into the bedroom and dressed her in the same silk nightgown from before. Although they were both opposed to the action, he moved on to finding his clothes from the previous night and getting dressed as well. Vivian watched sadly and laid her back onto the bedframe, wishing he could stay longer. Upon the last button on his shirt, Ben walked to the side of the bed and kissed her lips.
“Rest; I’ll call you by the end of tonight,” he murmured, rubbing his nose against her neck, “I don’t know if I can come again tomorrow; my mom will probably swarm me with work as punishment.”
“With that in mind, I promise to come back before all these bruises fade away,” he said while pressing the pad of his thumb onto a hickey.
After saying goodbye with a long, sorrowful kiss, Ben left Viktas not looking forward to seeing whatever was in store for him next.
“Benjamin Organa-Solo!”
His feet hadn’t even touched the ground when he heard his mother’s voice yell.
“I ought to strip you of your wings and put you on droid duty to teach you a lesson,” Leia clearly wasn’t having it and dragged her son back onto the Falcon to avoid potential spectators.
“Do you not understand the gravity of our situation? We are in a war! I’ve let you play around but I will not allow your games to interfere with your responsibilities - with your duty to this resistance,” she scolded.
“Do you still wish to fight with us?” her eyes looked concerned as if fearing his response.
It was a simple question, really, but it had Ben perplexed. He wasn’t so sure anymore. All his thoughts were focused on Vivian and he had little care for the war. His conscious felt guilty for being so selfish - wanting to ignore the Order’s injustice for the sake of his own happiness, “I do, of course, I do. It’s just that, something changed.”
“I’ve met someone,” Ben continued, “She’s smart, charming, and so beautiful. And I love her.”
Leia’s entire composure had softened and she sighed, “Do you have any pictures?”
Ben smiled and reached into his jacket to pull out several printed pictures of Vivian and him. While most were from the night before at Vincent’s wedding, others were of Vivian alone that he had taken on some of their dates. As the two sat in silence, his mother thoughtfully scanned through the photographs, taking a particular interest in the eyes of the young couple.
After she examined each picture, Leia spoke to her son, “Although I’m glad you’re in love and grown out of your old habits, I’m still going to punish you for disobeying and lying to me.”
For the next two weeks, Ben wasn’t even allowed to go near the Millenium Falcon, much less fly it. When he finally did get the chance to leave the resistance base, he told Vivian to meet him at the edge of the forest where he always hid the Falcon on Viktas. The second she saw him Vivian hurried to him and pulled on his vest so that they could kiss.
It didn’t take long for Ben to melt into the kiss, wanting to take it a step further. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pushed her up against a nearby tree. The force made her slightly gape her lips open and Ben took it the chance to plunge his tongue into her mouth. Vivian unintentionally moaned, her grip tightening on his clothes as she submitted to his pleasurable gestures. With the other hand entangled with her hair, Ben used it to lean her head back - giving him more access to her neck. Vivian giggled and squealed as he aimed an attack on her collarbone, sucking on it and scraping his teeth across her bare flesh.
“You came right on time, my last mark started to fade this morning,” she informed while pointing to the disappearing bruise on her skin.
“That just means I’ll have to give you some more,” he promised, but contrary to his words, he let go of her and took a few steps back, “But, before I do that, there’s something I want to show you.”
Ben took her hand and led her to the Falcon and the face she made was so priceless, he couldn’t help but laugh.
“Can I?” she asked.
“By all means,” he let go of her hand and she slowly edged her way onto the ship. Her eyes were wide with awe as her fingers gently traced the mechanical walls.
“It’s amazing, I’ve never seen anything like it!” she turned to smile and embraced him, “Thank you. So when do we take off?”
“We can’t, Vivian.” he sighed, “It’s too dangerous.”
“That’s not fair! You fly all the time!”
“I know, but that’s me on my own. I don’t want to put you at risk.”
“Please!” she whined, “We don’t even have to pass the atmosphere!” As Vivian said this, she rubbed her hand on his pants, cupping at his groin, and seductively toyed with a few strands of his hair. “Pretty please?”
A groan came out of Ben and he took a quick glance at the control panel, One ride wouldn’t hurt. But then he looked into her bright eyes underneath fluttering lashes. No. Something could happen and it’s not worth her getting hurt. Ben wanted to make her happy but refused her once more, “I’m sorry, Vivian, but not today.”
“Fine,” she let go of her hold on him and sat in the cockpit with a pout, “But you have to promise you’ll take me out flying one day.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
“You know, I was thinking the other day about how much I love it when you call me sweetheart. But it reminded me that I don’t have a cute pet name for you.”
“Oh?” he chuckled and swooped into the seat beside her, “Why don’t you try some out with me now?”
“Hmmm, Baby,” she started.
“Nah.”
“How about darling?”
“Not feeling it.”
“Honey?”
“Nope.”
She paused for a moment with a contemplative look, she squealed, “Oh! I’ve got it! Benny Bear!”
Gods there’s going to be no escaping from that nickname now.
After Ben gave Vivian a tour of the ship and having some more fun in the cockpit, he walked her home. Just as they neared the apartment building, they ran into Vincent.
"I’m glad I caught you guys, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk you guys about something.” the latter stated.
“Ben and I were headed upstairs, why don’t we all go-”
“Sorry, maybe I should've been more specific. It’s actually Ben I need to speak with,” he looked at Ben, “You up for a walk?”
“Sure.” Ben leaned down to kiss Vivian goodbye, leaving her embarrassed from doing so in front of her brother. She curiously eyed the two men and soon left them to commence a new conversation.
“You’re probably wondering why I told Vivian to leave.”
Ben groaned internally, expecting to get the overbearing, protective brother speech but was stunned by Vincent next words, “It’s cause I’m sure you’ll want her to hear this from your lips rather than mine. I know who you are, who you really are.”
In a moment of panic, Ben had stopped walking and stared at Vincent wide-eyed.
“I didn’t like the half-answers she gave me in regards to you and suspected it was because you didn’t give her much to work with, so I hired an informant to find out what you were hiding,” he explained.
“And to think, out of all the people in the galaxy, she’s dating Ben Solo, the wonderboy himself.” Vincent broke out into a laugh and his eyes softened, letting Ben know that he wasn’t angry with him.
“The one and only,” Ben added.
“You’re lucky Vivian trusts you and that Viktas hardly focuses on anything to do with either the Order or the rebellion or she would’ve found out way before you intend.” Vincent continued.
“Listen to me, I can tell that Vivian really likes you, she’s never acted like this with anyone. She’s always pushed people away, focusing on keeping me safe and doing the best she could for us. Ever since you came into the picture, she’s been more conscious of herself; she’s no longer acting for the sake of survival. She’s genuinely happy and it’s because of you.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Ben asked.
“You guys have been together for nearly a year now and I only found out about this the other day. I love my sister and I know she loves you, but I don’t want to see her get hurt. Please, just keep her safe. She’s very selfless and it won’t be difficult to get her involved, so if she does, make sure you protect her.”
With confident and determined air, Ben patted Vincent’s back, “You can count on that.”
“I’ve decided to keep this from her but you should probably tell her sooner than later,” Vincent suggested.
“Yeah, I probably should.”
And they left it at that.
Back on the unsuspecting moon in which the resistance base was hidden, Ben and his mother made an agreement in which he could visit Vivian at least once every week, so long as it didn’t meddle with his responsibilities. The two, along with Han, were currently sharing dinner together for the first time in what seemed like forever. With their equally busy and complicated schedules, ‘family time’ was more difficult to arrange than a mission to defend foreign planets.
“Tell me, Ben, how’s your little girlfriend?” his father questioned, “When do we get to meet her?”
“Well actually-” Ben was cut off by his comms device; Vivian was calling him, ”Speaking of the galaxy’s cutest medic”
He answered the call, “Hey, sweetheart. I was just-”
A sob. It was the most dreadful sound Ben had ever heard and he completely froze. Vivian, his Vivian, was crying.
“Ben,” she sniffed, “Something’s happened.”
“Vivian what’s wrong?” Ben had already got up from his seat and picking up his jacket.
All her attempts at sentences only came out as incoherent sounds but she eventually muttered out the situation, “They’re dead. Vincent and Cecilia are dead.”
A/N: Sorry it took so long to post this but I hope it's enough and that you guys could enjoy it! Credit to the space line divider break is here if you were wondering! I’ll be on a trip for the next 10 days so I probably won’t be able to post anything, but I will try to get some writting done during flights or waiting time. As always, please let me know if you liked this by giving the post notes, commenting, or send me a message!
#ben solo x reader#kylo ren x reader#kylo x reader#star wars#kylo ren#ben solo x you#smuggler ben solo#smuggler ben#ben solo#kylo ren x you#star wars fanfiction#star wars fic
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The Down Side of Coming Out
summary: Mark makes a very sweet coming out video because he loves both Amy and Ethan with all his heart, but Ethan wasn’t out to his parents yet and some fans started to make comments about Amy ‘getting in the way’ of there otp Type: angst, fluff ships: Amy + Ethan + Mark “so guys, what I’m trying to say, is that I love them. Both of them. And yes, I know that’s not how relationships are supposed to work but I can’t help it. I can’t help my sexuality and I can help who I fall in love with. Ethan, Amy if you’re watching this, I love you both with all my heart.” Mark wiped his tears off his face before ending the video and uploading it with out editing it. He has wanted to to that for so long. He felt so free now. Like he was aloud to love and like his love was valid. Mark decided he wanted to spend the rest of the day with the two most amazing and beautiful people he knows. He walked out of his recording room and went to where Ethan and Amy where editing. “Hey stars,” Mark smiled as he used one of names he called Amy and Ethan when they where together “I made the video.” Both Amy and Ethan looked up at him. Amy was beaming, she was so happy she could start being public about there relationship. She has a file on her phone of pictures that she had been waiting to be able to post. Ethan on the other hand didn’t look as happy. Of course he gave Mark permission to make the video and post it, but he hadn’t told his parents and was honestly, a little scared. His parents had told him that he wasn’t aloud to be gay, so he didn’t think they would be very happy about him dating more than one person and one of them being a guy. Ethan smiled anyway, pushing the feeling down and deciding to focus on the fact it was over and he had people who would love him even if his parents didn’t. —-TIME SKIP—- Mark had never felt happier. He was dating the most beautiful woman in the world and he was dating the most handsome man in the world. He was out and had seen a lot of support and had said beautiful and handsome people curled up to him on either side. Mark felt butterflies in his stomach from how happy he was. All three of them where slowly starting to drift off to sleep when Ethan’s phone went off. *deep beep imma sheep, I said beep imma sheep* Ethan’s annoying ring tone filled the quiet room waking everyone up. Half asleep, Ethan grabbed his phone and picked up the call. “hello?” Ethan suddenly bolted away from Mark and quickly stood. by the look on his face he was horrified. “H.. Hey Dad” Amy and Mark looked at each other with concern. Ethan had told them his parents might not be happy but he didn’t really make I big deal out of it. “please Dad… Ok but if you just listen to me… ok… yes sir… I understand… I’m sorry…” After Ethan hung up his phone he looked down. There was sadness in his eyes, but only for a second as they where soon replaced by anger. Ethan through his phone across the room smashing it agenst a wall befor falling to his knees and sobbing. With in seconds Amy and Mark where both by his side. Mark holding him and rubbing his back and Amy telling him to breath and helping him to calm down. "Blue bird,” Mark spoke as softly as he could “what was that about?” Ethan looked up at Mark before looking down and saying “My dad says I’m not his son anymore and they have no place for… for a freak in there family.” Mark’s heart shattered. How could someone do that? How could someone be so cold and so heartless to someone as amazing as Ethan? “I’m so sorry blueberry,” Amy spoke quietly “I promise you’re going to be okay. I know this is hard, I couldn’t begin to understand what it’s like, but where here for you okay?” Ethan nodded before leaning into his lovers arms, feeling protected by them. —–TIME SKIP— Ethan was fast asleep, sandwiched between Amy and Mark, who where both on there phones. Amy had posted a picture of Ethan, Mark, and her all at the beach. Ethan was in cute light blue swim trunk and Mark was in bright red ones. Amy was in a beautiful yellow bikini that had little bits of green on it. They all looked happy. Amy decided to look at the comments. She saw alot saying how cute they all where. She also saw alot saying it was wrong, which she ignored easily. Then she saw a bunch saying they felt bad for Amy, saying the was getting in the way and didn’t relise it. She looked over the comments like this but there where alot. There where also alot of replies saying it’s her life and that they where happy together. There where also replies agreeing with the comments. Amy felt something inside start to hurt. Did they really not want her around? Was she getting in the way? Would they be happier with out her? “Amy,” Mark’s voice pulled her from he thoughts “you okay babe?” “Mark… Do, do you and Ethan like having me around or would you be happier with out me?” Amy asked sadly “What? Of course we like having you around we love you! why?” Amy felt tears falling and she quickly felt a need for her boyfriends to hug her “The comments on that picture I posted from the beach… there was a lot of people saying you’d both be happier with out me. Mark reached over and wiped her tears away “it’s not true Amy. I love you and Ethan loves you, we’d both be way less happy if we didn’t have you. I promise.” "Thank you” Amy smiled. Mark waited for Amy to fall asleep before getting up, careful not to wake his loves. He quietly walked down the stares to his recording room and started a recording. “Hey. So earlier today, I came out and um, since then, I… I’ve been shocked at everything that had happend. So… A few things have happend and I’m going to go over them and I need you guys to listed. I’d this is you, if you are doing any of this, It needs to stop. So, first of all, to Ethan’s family, Fuck. You. What gives you the right to treat Ethan like he’s nothing purely because of his sexual orientation. What gives you the right to tell a 20 year old, who isn’t even old enough to drink, who you promised to love and take care of no matter what, what gives you the right to take away everything he is? Why do you get to decide his punishment for being himself and why would you do something as drastic as to tell him he’s not family anymore? it doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that you all know that Ethan is better than any of you will ever know. Weather he sees it or not he is perfect. Maybe perfect isn’t good enough for you, but that’s fine. If you don’t want him don’t think this will slow him down or hurt him because just because you left him doesn’t mean he’s alone.” Mark took a deep breath and wiped his tears. “Now, the second thing that happend involves Amy. I love her just as much as I love Ethan, and for the most part this community has be great, but to those of you who feel the need to attack Amy and to tell her she isn’t loved or to tell her she’s holding Ethan and I back, is bull shit. Amy is one of the best people I know and I would, and so would Ethan, we would be do much worse with out her. I need you guys to stop. If you are spreading this bull shit stop. If you are posting the bull shit stop. If you see this bull shit, report it. please help me make this stop. I love Amy. I love Ethan. If you have a problem than instead of crying about it and trying to hurt us, grow a pair and leave this community. there’s no place for you here.” Mark finished up the video than posted it again, without editing. He as quietly as he could walked back to bed where he was greeted by his two lovers wide awake with tears in there eyes. “What’s wrong?” Mark panicked “you, you left the door open,” Ethan smiled wiping his tears “we heard what you said. we love you too” Mark smiled before jumping on top of his stars. He loves calling them that, because as cheesy as it was, they are the light of his light. ———-END——— welp, that’s the first fic on this account. I hope you guys liked it! If anyone has any ideas for future story or has any head canons they’d like to share feel free to send an ask or message me ♡ ~Lu
#crankiplier#ethamy#amyplier#if this somehow ends up in one of the main tags please let me know#fan fiction#crankiplier fanfiction#fan fic#fluff#angst
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Legends Recap
Because while I was determined not to (I was three episodes behind!), sometimes a girl's just got to scream into the void: "HOW DO THESE WRITERS KEEP THEIR JOBS?"
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Raiders of the Lost Art:
Wow, I don’t care about Rip. Also, you had the fucking spear of destiny through all of season 1? Fucking incompetent.
I’ve seen the Mick scene before. *hugs Mick*
…Nate is such an annoying frat boy. 3AM blasting bad music? In a small space near other people’s sleeping quarters? And just “oh, yeah, sorry, I needed to do a thing” as an explanation? We have a name for those people: assholes.
Again: Indiana Jones is an archeologist. Not a historian.
“Anyone would have made the call to save Grey!” “Would Rip?” Answer: no, because Rip doesn’t care about the team. Remember how he did that repeatedly last season? Why is this show trying to push Sara’s weird (and out of nowhere) crush on Rip?
I have literally no interest in Rip’s issues. Zero.
Fear of giant toads, somehow related to Mick’s mother (reference to “mommy talk”). Dragon!Mick confirmed?
Mick’s expression of “you’ve got to be kidding me” is going to be the highlight of this episode, I can tell.
I’m pleased they remember that Mick can knock someone out without harming them. I’m less pleased that they seem to have forgotten that Sara can do the same?
“Oh now, our way out is block! Pity we didn’t bring Jax, so that we could literally Firestorm fly our way out! That would have made sense, but cost precious CGI money!”
Mick’s tradition of carrying people continues.
Oh god, this episode’s only halfway over. Make it stop.
Goody, Stein insulting Mick to his face. Also, emotional problems leading to hallucinations are a serious problem??? Even if it’s just “emotions”, there are hallucinations?
NOTE TO AUDIENCE: Not having 4 PhDs or a history degree = total inability to read words!
NOTE TO AUDIENCE: Not being an inventor or a historian makes you useless!
Also, apparently getting mugged once can cause a change of career after dropping money and time into it.
Why did they move the chair into Mick’s room? HOW did they? (Why were we, the audience, deprived of the glorious scene of Mick and Stein hauling it down the hallway)
Also, Mick has been interpreting Stein’s academic technobabble without a problem the whole episode, and yet, everyone on board thinks he’s stupid…
I’m incredibly pissed at this episode for raising hopes of Len and then destroying them. Both for Mick, and for the audience.
I’m also not here for the Rip/Sara thing. Also the fact that this show seems to assume people will be super disbelieving despite being on a goddamn spaceship.
Oh, my bby! Mick’s head is literally SLICED OPEN in that scene! WTF?
I get all the Star Wars references, I just…don’t care…
George Lucas is holding the spear of destiny, which makes him a great director…or, at least, married to one. He’s a good tech guy, at least.
In which the Guy Who Has Never Been In A Fight Decides Not To Run From Evil Bad Guys Because…Plot.
Mick’s little smile when he says “ghost” and the heartbreak after it is just…unnecessary. Also, wtf, Stein, hallucinations are not a usual response to grief, okay?
Ugh.
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Legion of Doom:
Damien’s intro is more interesting than 95% of the normal Legends’.
Okay, why is Merlyn having Feelings about Darkh dying? (Also, wouldn’t removing Darkh from the timeline mean that that timeline no longer happens? Why do G. Lucas’ ~~feelings~~ about filmmaking have an immediate impact but literally removing the person who doesn’t go on to do any of the shit he later does not?)
Fucking writers. This could be such a good show if they cared even a LITTLE.
I do enjoy the sheer bitchiness of the bad guys. Pity they’re Nazis. Also, do we need all the scenes of tortures?
ALSO: why the hell would his daughter help with a mystical artifact? Like, I see that she does because of plot, but couldn't they have put any effort into explaining why her specialty is required? Also, why does she have a radiation detector in her pocket when she goes to get coffee?
Bad guys: bitch-bitch-bitch.
Bad guys: bitch about each other.
Bad guys: yet MORE bitching!
Bad guys: worst bank robbers ever?
Mick’s difficulty thinking of the word is adorable. And yeah, she deserved to know. Everyone acting super weird about her, and she doesn’t know why? She would have wanted to know. It was clearly deliberate, too (I love how he goes to “asphyxiation”!)
Bad guys: going back to bitching. With swords! (See, I’d like them, but: Nazis.)
Stein is moping because Mick “spilled the beans” on a secret he shouldn’t be keeping. So sad.
Both sides figure out Eobard, finally. Also, can’t Eo just phase out through the wall?
Speedster: not…use…speed…force? I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand?
Eo’s terror face is hilarious. Also, did everyone just forget about phasing?
Stein’s family drama, yeah, yeah. Stein: Can’t you stay? Lily: No, the budget can’t afford another regular. I mean, I have protein-folding to be doing instead of LITERAL time travel with future science! Because that’s totally how normal people/scientists make decisions!
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Turncoat:
Mick’s intro is lovely.
Interesting mention about “time travel” being fun – I assume not all the memories are back in place. That, or being a Time Master is even more dull than I’d previously imagined.
I’m in for Gideon killing everybody! *notes down fic idea*
Go Mick! Use your skills! (Ray deserves all the arm twisting.)
Nate and Amaya – boring. And seriously, with the ‘falling into his arms’ thing?
Good lord, someone actually makes a plan that includes the line “and then if there’s trouble, Firestorm”? I thought I’d never see the day.
(Ray should totally go as a toy. And Ray, stop making faces at Mick – you’ve been a dick to him all season, only fair he gets some licks back in.)
“Oh you’re married to a black woman! Don’t you know we were racist back then!” says the man in late 18th century New Jersey, where rich black women could still vote. (No, really, in a handful of states black women could vote as long as they owned property. This was one of the rights that was lost when the US got itself a federal government. But the past was always racist! because we didn't make this joke enough when Kendra and Ray were dating!)
Ray’s “Mer-ry Christmas!” is amusing.
Mick identifies the problem faster than anyone else, as usual. Mick disapproves of Rip’s behavior – and Rip’s attempt to compare the two of them. For shame, Rip; as usual, thinking the worst of Mick.
“And Rory.” “That was implied.” Yeah, sure. At least Jax gets next Captain after Sara goes! First time I’ve seen any reference to Jax’s leadership skills in…the entire series…
Really. Twice. That doesn’t make it funny.
“I’ll bet a hundred yous you’re wrong” = Mick is the best. Georgie isn’t wrong about there being rules of war, but Mick is still the best.
Jax. Jax. I love you, but there is a DIFFERENCE between “wow, I’m in charge of a handful of people and need to make decisions” and “I’m going to do a potentially life threatening activity involving literally digging into my friend’s stomach (which is filled with organs that, if nicked, could cause sepsis and death) with a knife, and I’m going to do it without a guide or any experience”. Stein wins this one hands down.
Okay, let me just be clear: somehow, Amaya has been on this ship for months and months and never heard the term ‘dating’ and is instead using ‘courting’, which is the most formal of formal terms used in the past. Because obviously a man – to use old-fashiony language like this show wants to – “called on” or “stepped out with” a woman a few times before officially declaring a courtship. Because the past didn’t have one-night stands, because people only developed libidos around the time of the internet. SERIOUSLY SHOW? People have been fucking for fun since forever. The whole “sexual revolution” thing was a revolution because women could have sex for fun WITHOUT RISK OF PREGNANCY.
Before then, they still had sex, they used what contraceptives they had and hoped for the best. There’s a reason shotgun weddings were a thing. And why
And I was told they went with the “huddling for warming -> sex” thing, I knew it was coming, it’s just…disappointing. Boring.
Jax Home Alone looks like it’s going to be fun.
Rip – the most ahistorical haircut, or the most ahistorical haircut? Ugly, too.
Georgie: “Don’t punish Mick! He’s not guilty!” Mick: “You bet your ass I am! Possibly not at the moment, but of many other things! And also, just generally speaking!”
Still bored with Nate/Amaya.
Jax Home Alone is not anywhere near as fun as I was hoping. Boo.
Mick: So I’m getting you out of here.
George: No.
Mick: *tries insults* *it’s not very effective*
George: *stirring speech*
Mick: *stirring speech* *it’s super-effective!*
George: …
“Oh, no, what about George Washington and Rory!” says the person happily having sex and napping instead literally five minutes before.
Awwwww, Ratigan! That is some terrible CGI.
Why are they selling the Rip/Sara? It’s icky. (This is me: totally believing that Sara’s dead. Really. Totally. Even for five seconds.)
First, the historical critique: they shouldn’t ALL be standing around at a hanging with primed guns, that’s a recipe for disaster.
Second: I don’t even care this is glorious. Mick saves everyone! Mick tackles four people! George uses his superior height!
Also, if Mick convinced him early in the evening, then they literally spent all night talking.
First instance of Georgie-boy! (though poor Mick is still suicidal, oh dear)
George: …yeah, Americans out, stage left, pursued by bear.
Jax, Jax, baby, just shoot him in the kneecap. What the hell is with these heroes? Sara’s back and decides to use Christmas against everyone because…no, I have no idea why. Is it just me or does it feel like these episodes are massively out of order?
Awwww, Georgie and Mick drinking together <3 Mick and the criminal justice system! And then they hug! Mick finally has a good friend!
“Rebel spirit, steadfastness, crass yet effective use of language, you’re the best of what our new nation can be” – Mick is now officially embarrassed and hiding. Man, if I hadn’t already written that Barry/Mick fic, I would now.
Sara and Jax bro-ship is perfectly okay. More of that.
Mick in a hat! Mick with his new rat! <3 Mick kissing his new rat!
“We have nothing to celebrate – including Mick getting a statute!” – why, guys, why?
(Mick’s face of “yeah I still got nothing” whenever the statute is mentioned is adorable)
“Because the League may have everything – smarts, beauty, cunning, charisma…wait, where was I going with this?”
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Trick or Treat 2018 letter
Dear writer,
Hello and thank you for writing for me. I’m very excited to read whatever you come up with.
Regarding tricks and treats: for tricks, a story in the general tone of the canon would be great; if you want to introduce a more clear-cut trick element, spookiness, ambiguity, menace, some darkness, maybe some violence if the story wants to go there, a dark supernatural element (e.g., what may or may not be a haunting) even if the canon’s realistic, rather than extreme grimdark where everyone dies or gets raped and dismembered.
For treats, a story in the general tone of the canon would be great; if you want to introduce a more clear-cut treat element, humor, silliness, crack, a maybe-supernatural element (e.g., this is definitely not a haunting right?), something mildly hopeful, rather than teeth-rotting fluff.
Requests:
American Gods (TV)
Laura Moon, Mad Sweeney
Fic, trick or treat
I ship it. Yes I do. I also love their snarky road trip in and of itself. They’re both such assholes and so fascinating, even if they mellow toward each other a bit in the last two episodes, and all the gods/magic/resurrection stuff swirling around them begs to be explored further. Plus she’s half his size yet can and does beat him up with literally one finger, and then there the angst of he having killed her and then brought her back.
Please give me either missing scenes from the road trip (with or without Salim, whom I like too) or something post-S1. Laura discovers (how? you decide!) that Sweeney gave her back the coin after their accident -- whatever happens next, some punching may be involved. Wednesday’s big war finally comes, and “don’t you dare die on me, you asshole” is a line either Sweeney or Laura (or both) might say to each other. Or something exploring living death. Magical bargains. Meetings – smooth and harmonious, though let’s be real, with these two it’s probably the opposite – with other Old Gods and assorted supernatural beings from various cultures. What kind of favor did Sweeney do for Ostara that would be worth her bringing someone back to life as repayment? What other powers might Sweeney have (he doesn’t seem on a par with someone like Wednesday and Ostara, nor does he consider himself to be entirely like them)? How long can a dead wife keep going before she’s “soup”? What other superhuman abilities might dead!Laura have? Can the dead do magic? Laura asked “What does Wednesday have to lose?” and the answer is...? (Yes, give me that sweet poetic justice.) Sweeney basically stops calling her “dead wife” (or anything else) toward the end of S1 -- there comes a time when he (has to) call her by her actual name, and that’s a tricky moment for them to navigate. Or, Mad Sweeney is not his actual name, since true names have great magical power; Laura discovers or learns his name, from someone else or from himself; what does she do with that knowledge? Also, my perfect AG spinoff would basically be Sweeney and Laura tooling around America, looking to get her resurrected (whether they succeed in this or not is up to you), stealing ever more ridiculous vehicles, arguing/fighting and having those pesky moments where vulnerability and genuineness creep in – and fucking. So I’d be down for porn, but only for these two characters together, not one of them with a third party. If it helps your inspiration, you can find some of my meta and lots of tag-burbling about these two here.
I have read the book, and while I prefer the show characters, you can use or riff on book material if you want. With reference to one of my DNWs, for this canon, describing Laura’s physical decay is totally fine.
Cabin Pressure
Fic, treat
Carolyn Knapp-Shappey, Arthur Shappey, Martin Crieff, Douglas Richardson
I just want more canon-y stories with their loopy humor and their weird yet loving family dynamics among the crew. Shenanigans in mid-flight or in the tedium which precedes and the tiredness which follows them. Someone smuggles (knowingly or not) an exotic animal on-board, legal, security, medical and/or slapstick chaos ensues. A mechanical, passenger- or smuggled-goods-caused problem arises and is solved during a journey. More games played on board GERTI. While I DNW holiday settings or themes, I can see comic potential in Arthur getting overly enthusiastic about Halloween (remember Arthur at Christmas?). Playing around with a specific destination, like in many episodes, would be a plus. If it helps inspire you, my favorite episodes in terms of tone and content are: Douz, Gdansk, Johannesburg, Limerick, Ottery St. Mary, Uskerty, and Xinzhou.
For this canon, I’d prefer either gen or, if you want to go there, Douglas/Carolyn, which is a ship I always thought had potential – they understand each other very well and trust each other most of the time, but they’re both also snark-masters, tend to look down on anyone not as smart or quick-witted as they (Arthur being the sole -- occasional -- exception), and are really good about keeping their defenses up against other people.
Justified
Boyd Crowder, Rachel Brooks
Fic, trick or treat
For Boyd, a moment in canon or post-canon, during his likely-lifelong incarceration, where we get to see him work one of his schemes. For Rachel, case fic or friendship fic, and you can definitely throw in Raylan and/or Tim and/or Art. Model Marshal Rachel gets stuck doing the early morning prisoner transport or handling walk-ins (bonus points for telling me how she earned this punishment from Art). Banter is always a plus.
And if you wanted to tackle Boyd & Rachel or Boyd/Rachel, well. I would love that. Their few brief interactions in canon always left me wanting more. Boyd trying to pull the wool over Rachel’s eyes and her not having it. Having to work together or Rachel needing to use Boyd as a informant, and possibly how the hostility might shade into flirting and how Rachel might feel about that, given Boyd’s past (even if, as Raylan said, Boyd’s too smart to really believe in white supremacy, there’s still his lifelong criminality). The beginnings of a good working relationship or friendship or affection, and how frustrating and difficult that would be, because they are who they are. Or the later stages of a relationship, when somehow they make it work, however tense it gets at times.
Specifically for trick fic, there be somethin’ spooky in them there hills. Maybe it’s just the usual bunch of hillbillies with more firepower than brains, maybe it’s something genuinely eldritch. Marshals and/or local crime lords walk right into it. A Lovecraftian riff would be great, as would an actually-mundane case of crime happening under cover of supernatural goings-on.
DC New Earth
Thessaly
Fic, trick
I nominated this character under The Sandman’s canon tag, but it got moved to the DC New Earth umbrella tag.
Thessaly is my favorite Sandman character and one of my favorite characters in general. I love that she is not always or even often likeable, but she is always compelling, intriguing, hypercompetent, ruthless, fearless, and sometimes foolhardy. Her solitary ways and commitment to her own long-term survival, without the reader ever figuring out what – other than the desire for more life – drives her, fascinate me, as does her humorlessness coupled with everything that’s fantastic and supernatural about her. I’d love to see her do more chilling magic (invent dark, bloody rituals and tell me about them, by all means), go on adventures in the Waking, Dreaming, or still other realms*, get into a jam (maybe the Moon tries to claim her? Or she obtains a magical artifact and its owner isn’t happy?) and get out of it in her own way. Or Thessaly interacting with other Dreaming denizens (say, snarky Matthew, or the three guardians of the entrance to Morpheus’ palace, or the Second Corinthian with all his identity issues). Or give me glimpses of Thessaly’s past, over the many millennia she’s been around. Or, she must have moved from other worlds or planes of reality, possibly at their final destruction, to our own, just as she moves to Barbie’s dreamworld and survives its destruction; what were those worlds like, or where might Thessaly go once this world is gone? Does she outlast or out-trick the Moon in the process?
One thing I would appreciate you not dwelling on is Thessaly/Morpheus – I don’t mean retcon it out of existence, just don’t dwell on the actual relationship, which I always found somewhat improbable. Exploring Thessaly’s hurt and anger after the end of that relationship is fine. I have also read the Thessaly spin-offs, so you can riff on those if you want (what does she do with all the dead crowding her at the end?), but please note that if you describe Thessaly, I prefer her frumpy, self-composed design in Sandman over the Lara Croft-lite of the spinoffs.
*Fusion suggestion: if you wanted to send Thessaly into the world of Jennifer Haley’s play The Nether, I would be there with bells on. If you are unfamiliar with The Nether, it’s a science-fiction play about literally living on the Internet (easily handwaved into a kind of magic or a living dream) and how that influences people’s sense of self – be forewarned that the play’s not explicit but is pretty damn dark.
Likes:
I love pre-canon, canon, post-canon, canon-divergent, and “missing scene from canon” stories. I love character-driven and plot-driven stories equally, and I love fics which mix humor and angst/serious business when appropriate for the canon.
I love character studies, characters at work and play, stories about group dynamics, family dynamics (including constructed families), professional partnerships, friendships, alliances, rivalries, intimate couples, UST-ridden couples who are not just UST-ridden but connected in other ways too, etc.
I love irony, snark, 5+1 stories, bittersweet endings, hopeful endings, happy endings, canon-fitting crack, worldbuilding, characters who are their own worst enemies as well as those who learn to get over themselves, characters with conflicting values which may or may not be reconciled/resolved in a believable and IC way, characters who treat each other with respect and as equals even if they hate/annoy/can’t stand/love to dislike each other.
I especially love workplace stories (this can mean anything from an office/procedural setting to anything that revolves around the canon world in which the characters live) in which the characters are competent and dedicated to the job, and while they may not be exactly friends and they may well irritate one another, they still manage to rub along to get the job done and maybe even grow to care about one another (much to their surprise and sometimes reluctance/discomfort). Or, if they can’t get along, show me why not and what’s preventing them from finding common ground.
In terms of ship dynamics, I love (where it fits the characters) banter, competitiveness or antagonism shading into attraction (this tension need not be resolved), bickering yet loving couples, faithfulness, characters who are serious about their romantic interests, characters who think they are much better at flirtation than they actually are, characters forced to work together only to prove much more compatible than they initially assumed, fics which mix an exploration of characters’ professional and everyday lives with shipping. A dynamic I cannot resist is shipping a couple who are incompatible in some important way (they are ideological enemies, cop/criminal, spies from opposite sides), and while they love and want each other they’re also not willing to change sides or surrender/compromise their identity for the other’s benefit, and how they might (or not) make their relationship work anyway.
I don’t have any very specific likes for smut, other than smut fitting the characters – show me how their canon dynamics spill over into the bedroom (or other place of congress). I also like sexual scenarios that subvert expectations a little and surprise the characters themselves (e.g., the person who’s usually quiet or more passive taking charge, the more aggressive person goes with it possibly snarking or commenting on it as long as they can). And I like sexual scenarios that contain an element of competition, antagonism, oh-god-this-is-a-bad-idea-but-we’re-going-for-it, not wanting to admit feelings or show vulnerability except oops it happens anyway, whether the characters acknowledge it or not, or just people getting way more into it or being more affected by it than they thought they would. Oral, vaginal, anal, manual (ifyouknowwhatImean) – it’s all good. You can go as veiled or as explicit as you like, but please avoid excessive medical jargon – I don’t find a lot of mention of “penis” and “clit” sexy.
DNWs:
Kinks, MPREG, A/B/O, knotting, D/s, incest, underage, genderswap and genderbent characters, non-con, dub-con, torture and abuse (this and non-con/dub-con can be mentioned if the story needs it, but please don’t dwell on it in loving detail or subject any of my requested characters to it), dwelling on bodily fluids (mentions of gore and come are fine where appropriate), toilet humor, character bashing, soulmates and soul marks, major character death (unless it’s canon), pregnancy and children as the lynchpin of the story (unless strictly canon appropriate), characters agonizing over/analyzing/dwelling on their or others’ sexuality as if it’s the sum total of their existence, secondary characters acting like shipping the main pair is their be all and end all, fluff and schmoop, OCs (except in small roles and/or for worldbuilding purposes – I just don’t want a fic in which OCs are the heroes, while my requested characters are cameos), issuefic, explicit or implicit reference to current events or politics in the US, fic written in the first or second person, holiday or wedding setting or theme, AUs which have nothing to do with canon (cop characters working in a coffee shop, high-school janitor characters in space, etc.)
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