#i am handing that over free reign to anyone who would like to play with them they are Our Dolls Comrade

[silverskye13]

Now that we’ve established Tanguish and Helsknight are trans as fuck™️ what about their sexualities 👉👈

[loud shrugging]

I will let you all handle that! As someone who leans fairly ace, I don't normally assign sexuality to characters because I so rarely write it, and when I do write it, it's so heavy handed and obvious it's kind of silly.

Helsknight feels very ace coded to me [the only lust he feels is bloodlust etc etc etc] but also he has so much going on how does he have time for romance? [and what an aroace thing to say!]

Tanguish, he feels like he could probably get joy out of romantic love. Acts of service? Making time? Dates? Cuddling? I can see it. But to who? Under what constraints? No idea. I haven't asked him. Why don't you ask him anon? For me?

[my-shields-are-down]

Chenford + Emmett

REMINDER: I asked for one word prompts to trigger a fan fiction one shot. This one technically is not because there is more than a single word in the request, but I am going with it.

I’ve got 6-8 one word prompts in various stages of progress left in my queue. Keep them coming - they are busting through my writer’s block and I am having a lot of fUn writing them.

I will be posting all of these on AO3 as a collection when this batch is done.

=======================

Tim laughs every time one of his basketball buddies calls him “Jimmy.” He knows they are calling him a ringer like Jimmy from the movie “Hoosiers” - the guy who can make a shot from anywhere.

Yes, Tim is an excellent shot, be it for 3-pointers at or behind the tape, or the free throws that everyone else hates. Tim excels at those too.

Looking at Tim, you’d think with his height, wing-span and large hands, that he’d be a natural basketball player.

You’d be wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.

While Tim is fantastic at the “glamour shots” of the game, he is not so great at running and dribbling, blocking, lay-ups, or defense. His dad had entered him in an Elk’s Club Free throw class, then competition when he was in middle school to keep Tim out of his hair while he drank excessively and fucked his way through the club waitresses out back by the dumpsters. Tim saw one poor girl pressed up against a smelly green bin one afternoon and then promptly signed up for anything and everything so he never would have to see that again. He became the reigning Elks Club “Hoop Shoot Free Throw” Champ for 5 years and “Hoop Shoot Wide Out” Champ for 4 years running. He was a master at making those far away shots, he just never learned to how to play the game to set up those shots.

Fast-forward 35 years and now he gets together with his former sergeants (Webb, Jansen, Hendricks and Gibbs) twice a week to play rec ball in the LA County First Responders League. He does a lot of running up and down the court until someone throws him the ball on the 3-point line and he scores.

————

Tim can feel his retro high-top Air Jordans (white with MJ inspired Carolina blue swooshes) loosening up on his left foot. Sure enough, with 3:36 minutes left in the second half of the game they are currently losing, his shoe lace comes untied. That plus the forward momentum from yet another run up the court shoots his wedding band skittering across the court. He always ties the ring to his left shoelace for safe keeping.

When the “object on the court” time out is called, Tim jogs over to group of guys standing around waiting to play to grab his ring from….Emmett. His wife’s one-time ex-boyfriend. The fire fighter whose “hunkiness” they once debated..

Emmett and Tim lock eyes and smile - they were pretty good friends at one point. Emmett pulls his own gold wedding band out from his Kobe jersey on a utilitarian dog tag chain to show Tim the proper way to store his ring during a game.

Tim smiles and says thank you when Emmett hands him his platinum one and is asked, “Who is the lucky girl? Anyone I know?” To which Tim kisses his ring and looks at Lucy’s heartbeat recorded when thinking about Tim (when she’s experiencing butterflies) engraved inside, before bending down and retying his laces, securing the ring with a double knot this time.

Finally, Tim stands back up and smiles his biggest, “I’m so in love” grin and says to Emmett as the referee calls him back to the court, “I never did thank you for breaking up with her. By text message no less. I’ll tell Lucy you said hi.”

———-end———-

[awfenticwimes]

going to talk about the current twitter ttrpg discourse over here because my thoughts cannot be constrained to a measly 250 characters.

so, first off, i want to clarify that i am goingn to make generalizations, and that ofc there will be exceptions to things i say. none of this is absolute, and also, i will be mostly talking under the lens of both the games i have most experience gm’ing and also the games most widely run: dnd and dnd-likes, so if things i say don’t apply to the game you have in mind, that’s fine. good even, but it’s not what’s being discussed then

so, first off, no. as a gm you should not see yourself as a unilateral totalitarian godbeing that can dole out decrees to the lesser, measly pc’s whose only options are relent to your rule or suffer banishment. that’s silly. however, the opposite end that i keep seeing on twitter of “the gm is just another player, with no unique reach or authority than anyone else at the table” is equally untrue, not for the silly reason of “well the gm does the lion’s share of the work thus they deserves a little executive power as a treat :>” that’s also silly. ttrpgs are not meritocracies. a wizard doesn’t have more power over table practices than a fighter just because that class generally has more legwork to put into it.

the gm, to me, is a player the same as the rest, yes, but also they first and foremost are the referee. the arbitrator. they do, ultimately, get final say in a lot of things. how the rules work, how the rules can be stretched and broken, who the party meets, and what they see. the only possible way the gm would have equal power to all the players is if all players equally shared the role as gm, which is not an invalid way of playing but it definitely is not the norm

there’s of course plenty of other important differences between pc and gm (mostly involving the ways the gm can cheat, fudging roles, altering stats, the quantum trolls etc) but whether you like that or how much a gm should do that is dicecourse for another day. i only bring it up to further my point that a gm is not “just another player” but a “player+”

however, there is of course, always a caveat.

as a gm, yes. the world is yours. the towns, the dungeons, the dragons, and everything inbetween is 100% your domain. what isn’t. is the Players.

The Players (and the characters they create) are theirs. sorry, and they should get final say over most everything that falls under that umbrella. This of course is not giving players free reign to run rampant, of course. as (once again) they are fully constrained to the rules. they can offer suggestion for exceptions, or homebrew, but that would need the gm stamp of approval. The character is theirs, but changes to the rules is outside of their hands. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like gnomes, or edgy evil rogues, or whatever. they get to do that. you as gm can say, try to dissuade players from doing things you don’t like, but cannot force their hands, that’s an overstepping of boundaries.

man that was a lot of words. i don’t have a concluding paragraph sorry. this isn’t high school. that’s all i want to say. feel free to agree or disagree

[fangirlstorycreator]

Hey Bestie 🖤 I'm back with a request and guess what it's a Taligaro one😬I think a lot about him these days. Let's say we're a daughter of a very powerful man and Taligaro somehow gets hurt very badly and captured by his men to use him to fight for his entertainment. And when we see him we are already having some feelings so we sneak out at night getting him food and water and caring for his wounds till he's strong enough to fight and we free him but when it's time he insists to take us with him 🥺I'd love to read something like this from you. Take all the time you need 🙏Love you Bestie 🖤🖤🖤

I am more than happy to write this one! Your ask is genius! I hope you like it 😊

You had just celebrated your 20th birthday, but it wasnt all sunshine and rainbows. You were the daughter of the lord of the lands, and being his daughter, you had duties as you grew older. By law, you had to be married to a suitor of your fathers choosing, and you had no choice in the matter. You had another year before that was to happen, but it still played on your mind. You didnt want to be married, you wanted to be free of your fathers reign. You wanted to travel the world, learn how to live away from the castle walls, and maybe even fall in love. None of this was possible while you lived in the castle. However, that's didnt mean you didnt go out looking for adventure...

From the age of 15, you had found a hidden passage from your room to the outside of the castle, and at night, you would cover your face so noone recognised you, and you would spend time in the local village or search the local forest, anything to get away from the castle. You even picked up a few fighting skills while you were out there too. You hated being at home, your father was a cruel man, and would regularly hold fights in his outside arena for men and soldiers his army would have taken against their own free will. One day you were sat in the courtyard with a few of the maids, when the castle guards were pulling in a man with many injuries while bound in chains. You looked over at what was happening, as there was a lot of arguing and rattling of the chains.

That's when, just for a moment, the man in chains looked towards your direction, and everything seemed to stand still. Neither of you could look away from eachother, his eyes were a beautiful light sapphire blue, and he had blonde, slightly scruffy hair. He was tall, and looked very muscular, and his armour fit his physique perfectly. He couldn't look away from you, and you with him. But just as that moment happend, it was ripped away, the guardsmen pulled him down to the dungeons to await his turn in the arena. Why did that happen? Who was he? And why did your eyes lock like that? Not only that, but he looked injured and had blood over his face. You couldn't let him suffer like that.

That night you sneaked out of your bedroom with a bag of supplies, and headed down to the dungeons. You knew the guards would lock up the entrance at nightfall, so when you were hiding around the corner, you waited for them to leave, then you sneaked over to the entrance. Being someone who can find secret entrances throughout the castle, that also means you can find things to aid your exploring, including a lock and pick to open doors. Once you opened the entrance, you locked it up behind you and made your way down the spiral brick stairs. It had been weeks since anyone had been brought in for any fights, so this man was the only one down there. And once you reach the bottom, there, sat in the large metal cell, is the man you saw today.

"Hey" you whisper to him, he looks around a little confused. "Who is that?" He whispered back. That's when you walk up to his cage and show yourself against the light of the fire on the wall. "I saw you in the courtyard today" "Yes, I remember you. How did you get down hear? I thought it was locked?" "Let's just say I have my ways. I'm Y/N" You say as you hold your hand out through his cell door. He stands up and shakes your hand happily. "I'm Taligaro, but you can call me Tal" "Tal? I like it. Listen I know that you are injured, so I brought down some things that may help you, may I?" "But why? I'm a prisoner" "Noone who comes down hear deserves to feel pain and suffering. And you look like you have been through enough. So please? Can I help you?" He smiles and nods, allowing you to help him.

You pull out many supplies, food, water, bandages etc. After giving him something to eat, you reach through the bars of his cell door and start wiping the blood away, then wrapping his arms in a clean bandage. "I'm a stranger to you, and yet your kindness knows no bounds, how is someone like you in a place like this?" "Well let's just say it isnt my choice. A little like you in a way. Now, could you sit a little closer please?" He smiles happily and sits right up against the bars, then you take a warm damp cloth and wipe away the blood from his face a beard. "I have never had someone help me with this kind of thing before. It makes a nice change. Especially from a beautiful young woman such as your self" This instantly makes you blush. "I'm sure you say that to all the girls" He rests his hand against your hand, the one that is cleaning his face, so he can look you deep in the eye. "No....No I dont"

There is that look again, he is doing is and so are you, it's almost like your both hypnotized by eachother. You try and focus on helping him, so then you wouldn't be blushing so hard. Once he is all fixed up, he looks so much more handsome that he did when you first saw him. "I dont know how I can repay Y/N" "I know how you can" "And what's that?" "You can tell me what it's like. Life outside in the world. Freedom and adventure whenever you wish to seek it" "Of course. Its beautiful, being able to wake up to the sun rising against your face. The smell of the earth after a rainstorm, being able to see for miles and miles around, its wonderful. The food, the culture, anything you can experience is right there for you to reach out and grab" His words are like music to your ears, he paints a picture so beautifully for you. "But hold on a second, why are you asking me this? Your not a prisoner down hear, how come you dont know what freedom feels like?"

You hang your head low, feeling really down about it. "Because I haven't felt true freedom before, not really. It's all I want, I want to be free of this place, I want to see the world and all things that I could possibly experience. But I cant" He looks saddened by your words, and steps a little closer to you. "Why cant you? Will the lord not let you leave? Are you one of his best servants?" "No I'm not his servant....unfortunately I'm.....I'm his daughter" His eyes go wide in shock. "But how? Your father is known as one of the cruelest men in the land, and your his daughter? How did you turn out to be the opposite?" "I hate my father, he is everything I wish I wasnt. His heart is filled with a darkness that plagues this castle. I cant stand being hear anymore. I want to run away" "Then why haven't you?" "I wouldnt know what to do? And where would I go? I only know the village and if I hid there he would bring me back within a heartbeat. I have no knowledge of anything outside this land, I would know how to survive"

He wrapped his hands against the bars and gave you a promising look. "Come with me" "What?" "I'm serious! My army doesn't know where I am but if i was able to get out of hear, I'd go back to them and not even all the kings soldiers and guards would be enough to take them down. Come with me, and I will protect you and help you. Just like you have done for me" "But why? I'm just a girl you have known for a few hours, why offer this to me" His eyes looked warm, and understanding. "The moment I set eyes on you in that courtyard I knew that a woman like you shouldn't be hear. Your kind heart and helpful ways, you dont deserve to be locked up hear. If you could somehow get your father to set me free-" You stop him by laughing out loud. "Your really dont know my father, he will set someone free when pigs fly. But, there may be another way"

"I'm all ears" "The night before the arena fights, the guards all get drunk in the main hall, and everyone else will be there with them to join in with the festivities. I'll come down hear and let you out, then I will take you to my bedroom. In there is a secret passage way directly to the horse stables that's right outside the castle, that way, we wont be seen by anyone and we could go" "That's sounds brilliant!" Some sounds are being made upstairs, making you and Taligaro jump. "Taligaro I'm sorry but I have to go. But 3 nights from now I will get you out of hear" You make your way to the stairs when he says "Wait! Can i....can I see you again? Maybe tomorow? I know were not breaking out for another 3 nights but....I...i enjoy your company. Will you come back?" This warms your heart. "Yes.... I'll come back. I promise" You run out before any guards notice your there and manage to get back to your room without being seen. Over the next two nights, you keep your word and visit him down in the dungeons. You both get to know eachother more, and your feelings for eachother grow even stronger. Every moment around him felt more happy and exiting that you had even experienced before, and you couldn't wait to get out of this place.

Tonight was the night, you grabbed some of your essentials plus some gold coins, food and water for the escape and made your way down to the dungeons. You headed down stairs and went straight over to Taligaros cell. "Right, it's time to go. Are you ready?" "Yes Y/N, I am" You pick the lock of his cell door and release him, then he follows you through the dungeons, up the stairs and just before you went into the courtyard, Taligaro picked up his armour and weapons. Being as quiet as you could, you both slip through the courtyard and into the side of the castle. You both walked through the corridor and slipped upstairs into your bed chambers, once in there, you lifted up a tile from your floor and jumped in, closely followed by Taligaro. Sliding down this hidden hole, you both landed on top of eachother in the stables outside the castle. As he was the one who landed on you, you hadn't realised how big he actually was compared to you, his muscles were much closer, and he smelt of rain after a storm. "Oh! Sorry Y/n. Hear, let me help you up" Taking my hands in his, he pulls you up and your instantly both pressing against eachothers chests.

You loved being this close to him, and it looked like the same was felt towards you. "(Awkward cough) right let's uhh....lets get a horse shall we?" He said as he looked around. You brush a strand of hair behind your ear and hide your blush, just as Taligaro attaches his things to a horse and climbs on. The barn door was wide open and you could see the stars and sky outside. But you froze, and Taligaro moved his horse next to you. "What's wrong?" He asked looking down at you. "I uhhh...I dont know....you should...you should go, while you still have a chance" "What are you talking about? Your coming too" "I'm.....I'm scared Tal.... I have been dreaming of this day for so long....I never thought it would happen" He rests his hand on your shoulder as you look up at him. "The world is waiting for you Y/N. And I'm not going anywhere without you. My and my army will keep you safe, and I promise I will show you the world. Just give me a chance?" He holds his hand out to you, giving the night sky one last look, you smile at him and take his hand. He pulls you up so your sat on the saddle infront of him and your back is pressed against his chest. "Oh and one more thing before we go" "What's that Tal?" He rests his hand on your cheek, turns your face to look at him and he locks his lips with yours in a passionate and tender kiss. His lips were so soft and everything you had imagined they'd be, and you just melted into his touch. Once you both broke away, you both just smiled, and Taligaro made his horse gallop into the night....and on to your new adventure....

[twisted-art-wounders]

YGO AU Leviathan Rising

The Three Gods are back but will they be enough to stop perfect Leviathan’s rule?

Chapter 28 Return of the Gods

The idea was rolling around in Yugi's mind; what would the world look like if he designed it? What new amazing things could he create if he had the power to do so? What would people be like under his order? Would people finally be peaceful? No more violence...no more hate...no more conflict...everyone would be like...dolls.

All of humanity would be his toys; he could make them act as he wished. No one would ever be hurt, no one would be above anyone else, they could all get long and play together under his reign and Levi could make it happen...Was he really considering this? His mind again flashed back to that pinnacle moment with Yami Yugi, the moment that changed everything for them.

<i>Choice.</i>

It all came down to a choice...

Yugi took in a deep breath and looked into Levi's golden eyes; Yugi thumbed along the god's hands as show of affection before letting out his breath gently.

“Levi, I could make you stop. I could make you do exactly as I wish can't I? I am your heart after all...” Yugi was gentle with his words always so gentle.

Levi smiled, all he ever wanted was for Yugi to feel good about himself, to feel as special as he knew he was. To Levi he was more then a mere mortal; he was force of pure kindnesses, an endless well of love and compassion, a heart so strong he could turn the very tides themselves, move the very heavens on a mere whim, truly he was a god.

“But I don't believe that.”

Levi became confused once he said that, he looked him in the eyes asking what he meant.

“It is true you changed after meeting me but I wasn't the one who made you change, not on my own. YOU made that choice...You choose not to lock me away with the other souls, you choose to get to know me, at any time you said you could just take over my soul and I'd have no say in it what so ever.”

Levi stopped and started to think about what he was saying but it still wasn't adding up where was he going with this?

“You chose to help me when I felt like a failure for letting the other me play the seal, You showed me how to let my anger out, you made me feel so powerful and in control...You chose to fall in love with me...You said before as god of the orichalcos you were only made to do one thing and that was destroy and devour but you surpassed all of those expectations of you! You even betrayed Dartz! You were willing to end this whole world if only to make us rebuild it together.”

“I did it for you! This has all been for you!” Levi shouted.

“Yes but these are all choices <i>YOU MADE</i>. This means you have your own autonomy, your own desires, your own feelings...Levi your more human then you think...and like all humans you have a heart of your own...a heart you can chose to make choices with!” Yugi smiled squeezing Levi's hands tighter

“That means we're bonded through our hearts...”

“Bonded? But we're already bonded...” Levi asked confused still.

“Yes the bond we built together! Even if our time was brief we still connected to each other! Our desires and wants still reach each other even now...that's why I wont make you stop...I know you'll stop on your own.” Yugi smiled at the god holding his hands closer to his chest now.

Levi looked at Yugi; his large innocent eyes sparkled like a star in the night sky, a guiding light for those lost at sea, land or any where.

“I trust you.” Yugi's last words to Yami Yugi...the same words he now spoke to the god of darkness.

Levi paused before letting out a laugh, he broke free of Yugi's grasp and placed a hand on his cheek petting him gently.

“Oh that optimism of yours Yugi...I so do adore it...But I've already won~” Levi gestured to the screen

“the humans have giving up. There is no more hope for them.”

--

Deep within the belly of the beast Yami Yugi had called out to every soul within; every soul struggling to keep hope inside, every soul that had already lost their will to continue. He told them how hard it was to conquer the darkness inside; that he learned something form everyone's sacrifices form this fight was that everyone's memories together created a vessel of memories they can always call back to. With that endless vessel inside of them they can always come back no matter how bad things got, no matter how many times one breaks they can always be reborn as long as they still believe in those memories.

They must always remember the people who fought for them and will always fight beside them. And one by one each of those souls passed on a memory of hope, of light for a new and brighter future together, all these lights began to gather into Yami Yugi's duel disk. Along with Joey and Kaiba's last bit of strength, the duel monsters still outside joined in as well, all a bright light emulated form the duel disk before sinking into the beast fully.

The millennium puzzled started to glow as Yami Yugi could feel everyone emotions, their desires to keep fighting for the light. The glowing eye appeared over Yami Yugi's forehead and he spoke with regal strength.

“After 3000 years! I order in the name of the Pharaoh, I resurrect the three gods! Come forth!”

Three beams of light; red, yellow and blue shot out form Levi's chest, the beast was confused at this.

“What's happening?” He yelled as his back arched harder, he bent over to try and clench himself in the other direction but it was no use from the evil god a beam of white light shot out and form the beam Yami, Kaiba and Joey where freed and set back on the ground as they where before.

Up in the sky in beams of light formed the three Egyptian Gods; Obelisk, Slyfer and Ra. Leviathan was shocked and couldn't believe it.

-- “That's impossible! I stole their power! How could they have been resurrected?!” Levi shouted both in his perfect form and back in the mindscape with Yugi who smiled watching the god's appear once again.

“I knew it the other me did find away!” Yugi cheered, but it only made Leviathan's anger rise. --

“This isn't over you fools!” Leviathan roared before lifting himself up and into the clouds, the three gods in hot pursuit following the evil god.

“This ends now!” Yami Yugi growled as his puzzle glowed once again, he took to his spiritual form and became a ball of golden light shooting up into the sky like a rocket.

Joey only had seconds to catch Yugi's limp and lifeless body. He held Yugi in his arms giving him a little shake before realizing there was no soul to inhabit the body at this time.

“Yugi...Come back to us buddy...” Joey spoke softly as he watched the clouds change colours in the sky.

The final battle was unfolding above as the gods and Yami Yugi broke through the overcast layer of clouds to meet Leviathan at the top. The three god cards while enormous in their own right where merely play things compared to Leviathan's perfect form. He chuckled as he watched the gods and the speck that was Yami Yugi face off against him.

“Even with the gods on your side you can't beat me Pharaoh! Yugi and I will build a new world! Once I've eaten this one! You can't stop us!” Leviathan roared the sheer force of his voice causing the gods to be pushed back by the power behind it.

Each of the gods retaliated in their own way; Obelisk punching into the beast hide making Levi coil around the blue god to squeeze him, Both Ra and Slyfer attacked with their own beams of power making an explosion that forced Levi to let Obelisk go. Down below all those beneath the cloud cover could hear and see coloured beams of light filling the sky, a sign the gods where at war.

Yami Yugi stood by the three gods glaring up at Leviathan who returned the same look at the Pharaoh.

“You pests are starting to get on my nerves! I'll finish you all off with this final blow!”

Levi changed up a powerful energy beam form his mouth and shot it directly towards Yami and three gods.

Yami Yugi yelled for each of his three gods to attack the beast simultaneously with their strongest attacks: God Hand Crusher, Thunder Force, and God Blaze Canon. The beams of energy clashed in the centre filling the sky with brilliant white light casting down upon everyone below, but it looked like Leviathan's power beam was going to over come their combined strength.

--

Levi was laughing as he watched the war continue on all the screens around them, Yugi's eyes where focused on the Pharaoh; he held his hands over his heart and closed his eyes.

“I still believe in you...both of you...” Yugi spoke gently his soft and humble words floated into Levi's ears, his eyes widened as he turned around and saw a single tear falls form Yugi's face. Levi's eyes widened as he reached for him.

At the same time Yami Yugi heard Yugi's voice as well and used it for his final push. “Leviathan! We will not succumb to the darkness in our hearts!” With those words the combined power of the three gods finally over took the great beast and he was hit with the full force of power.

Both Levi and Yugi cried out in pain as they felt their body began to break apart; Perfect Leviathan began to fall form the clouds as he did his body started to release the souls trapped within him. His perfect form finally hitting the water and sinking back into the depths of the sea once again.

On Doma's island; Tristan, Tea and Mokuba cheered as they watched all the souls escaping finally free form their eternal nightmare.

Yugi fell to his knees he was in so much pain his entire soul was breaking apart at the seems; he only experienced this once during the final duel against Yami Marik where his soul was slowly being eaten away by the shadows. But this felt worse it was slower but it was more painful then that time, looking up he saw Levi was still trying to reach him.

Yugi crawled over to him as best he could, slumping himself just enough to take the god's hand. Levi looked up and over to Yugi who smiled gently.

“Don't worry Levi...I wont let you die alone...”

Yugi let tears run down his cheeks now, he knew this was it. He couldn't keep his promise to Yami Yugi to help him find his lost memories, he couldn't keep any of his promises...only this one to make sure Levi wouldn't be all alone.

“At least...I can keep this promise....” Yugi closed his eyes finally over come by the pain.

Leviathan squeezed Yugi's hand tightly; he could feel it...everything Yugi had said in his mind...in his heart...once again Yugi was going to sacrifice himself for someone else...the same cycle would repeat again...

“Yugi...” Levi spoke gently before closing his eyes and pulling Yugi's limp body close, he sat up as best he could and cradled the boy's body to him. Tears ran down his face as he gave Yugi one last kiss.

--

Yami Yugi watched as the beast fell past the clouds and down towards the ocean, his heart was melting he could feel Yugi's life was slowly starting to die out. What could he do? How could he save Yugi now that he's killed the beast...

Then he felt it; a glimmer of light small at first but he knew this light very well...a soul he was more then familiar with. He chased the sensation of this light zipping past the many other freed souls that now floated in the sky.

Mai and Valon both looked down to see Joey below them a smile on their face just as Yami Yugi zipped by them with great force.

“Well He's in a hurry...” Valon said jokingly while Mai chuckled a little before adding “He's looking for someone special...”

Both Raphael and Alister reunited with their long dead loved ones and had their souls enter their own souls so as to never to be without them again. Both where surprised too seeing Yami Yugi zip under them both quick as lightening.

Alister looked at Raphael surprised “Did he free...”

Raphael nodded with a soft smile “He did.”

As each soul started to return to where they needed to be Yami was still up and about trying desperately to hold onto the signal the light in his heart was trying to guide him to.

Was he too late? Did he miss him? Where could he-

His attention snapped as he saw a small orb of white light gently float towards him, the closer it got the more it started to take the shape of his partner. Yami Yugi's eyes widened as tears formed in the corners of his eyes he yelled out

“Partner!”

The small form of Yugi slowly started to open his eyes, his vision was still blurry but he could just make out the shape of someone zooming towards him, arms out stretched reaching for him. Yugi blinked a few times to correct his vision and he could see him, his other self come right up to him.

In one quick motion he scooped Yugi up into his arms bridal style and twirled him around, he squeezed his own face into his, and held onto him for dear life.

“Other Me!” Yugi yelled, once again Yugi felt like he was having the air squeezed out of him, he was never going to get to get used to being hugged this much but he'd better get used to it. Yami Yugi had never felt so relieved so happy, so joyous to hold his partner in his arms again. Grant it he couldn't hold Yugi like this before outside of when their in the puzzle but it didn't matter to him! Yugi was safe! He was here! They where together again! And no force on earth would keep them apart again!

“Yugi! Partner...your back! I got you back! And I'll never let you go again!”

Yami Yugi refused to let Yugi go, still spinning him around a bit before pulling away only to look at his face; his perfect, soft and gentle face. Yugi smiled and hugged him back as best he could now, Yugi was more then happy to see the other Yugi now. Being apart was so hard...but now they're back together again.

“Other me...let's go back. Together.”

[safyresky]

Frostmas: Year Seven

Now on an ao3 near you! AND a fanfiction dot net!

Year Seven

Free from the lockdown, Jacqueline concocts her wildest, riskiest plan yet. Meanwhile, Santa Jack preps for the Grand Opening of the North Pole Resort!

What's 🆕 NEW 🆕 in Year Seven:

It has been 100% REWRITTEN in its ENTIRETY because the ENTIRE PLOT OF THE CHAPTER TOOK PLACE IN ONE DAY. ONE! DAY! INSANITY!

So THAT'S been fixed

Jumped from 16k to 26k words, whoops

Mainly dialogue!

LOTS of fresh scenes, including, but not limited to:

-> TWINS AND JACK BONDING!

-> YET ANOTHER GLIMPSE INTO THE COLD FRONT RETELLING FROSTMAS TO ONE ANOTHER PRIOR TO JACQUELINE STARTING TO RECOUNT IT FOR US!

-> MARSHAL THE FIRE MARSHAL TAKING CENTRE STAGE!

You can read more about the whole ass, MONTH LONG PROCESS!!! REWRITING THIS THING WAS! When I get the BTS up. It's almost done, tbh tho, I'm not feeling it today? Main goal is to get Y7 posted and then go play viddy game on my day off. Maybe set the front garden on fire. We'll see how the day progresses 🤷🏻‍♀️

Wondering why the heck you are seeing a reference to FROSTMAS in your tag crawl? This is why! I wrote a fic about it!

The Twelve Years of Frostmas

Nobody but he and I knew the truth. Jack wasn’t supposed to be Santa; I wasn’t supposed to be Jack Frost. He thought being Santa would fix everything. He was horribly, horribly mistaken. [My take on Jack’s reign as Santa during the Escape Clause. MAJOR OC involvement AND First Person POV from said OC. Finally cross posting THIS behemoth! Enjoy!]

Curious? Take it from the top: [ao3 | ff dot net]

And, of course. Enjoy this Y7 snippet!

More than happy to leave the room, Bernard obliged. He was out the door and down the hall faster than I could say thank you, glaring at all of the Resort paraphernalia as we wandered over to the lounge. I watched with interest. The expression on his face was so intense, I couldn’t resist asking.

“Copper for your thoughts?”

"I wish I could just...get rid of it all."

"We could burn it. Just send it all up in flames! Whoosh, bye-bye Resort sleet!”

"Your fascination with arson concerns me, Jacqueline. Especially considering your alignment and all."

“What can I say? I am part summer sprite, after all—” I came to a dead stop, the risky plan I mentioned beginning to take shape in my head. “Oh. Oh. OH! Bernard, what if we DID?”

He stopped and turned, looking my way incredulously. “What?”

“What if we did burn it to the ground?!”

“I think I just pointed out why we can’t. You’re a winter sprite; I’m an elf. I’d love to set it all on fire but in all seriousness, we can’t. Not to mention, everything is inside the Workshop. I want to see the Resort razed to the ground, but not the Shop itself, and I certainly wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt. We can’t set it on fire.”

“You and I can’t. But I know somebody—bodies, even—who can…”

Bernard’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean—”

“Oh but I do.”

“Jacqueline, you know why that’s dangerous, right? Like, I don’t have to explain it to you, right?”

“I know, I know! Please, I know first-hand. I’ve got scorch marks to prove it. But! You said it yourself! You wish you could burn it all. And-and the Council asked me to do whatever it takes to delay this nonsense," I said, kicking a plush Santa-Jack toy away from me. The toy hit the base of one of the kiosks, the tiny voice box inside the toy yelling something that sounded a lot like Happy Frostmas! “You really want THAT,” I pointed to the terrifying toy, “to be the new norm around here?”

“Of course not!” He walked closer to me, his face angry. “I hate this, Jacqueline. You know that.”

“Bernard. I could freeze and destroy every single kiosk, over and over and over again. I could destroy a bunch of merch, a bunch of toys, I could tear down that whole stage with one errant icy breath. But you and I both know that it won't be enough to delay the North Pole Resort for even a second. I know it's risky but I promise, they will be careful. We can plan this; make it a controlled blaze! The Workshop, the homes, will all be fine. The elves will all be fine. And if it goes to plan, the Resort stuff will be a pile of ashes by the time we’re through with it.”

Bernard looked conflicted for a moment. I knew that this was a risky plan, and very outside of what B-Man was used to…but it was the only thing I could think of that had any chance of delaying, or perhaps even stopping the resort.

“Father Time said to do whatever it takes to delay the Resort.”

“I know! I know what Time said. But arson, Jacqueline? You really think this is the answer?”

“I don’t know of any other event that delays an opening or shuts something down as easily or efficiently as a fire.”

Bernard pursed his lips; he looked conflicted…but he was thinking. Oh yes, he was thinking. And as I watched him think, I knew that he knew that it was doable. He was figuring out exactly how we could systematically destroy the entirety of the Resort surplus while keeping everything else and everyone else safe.

“Bernard, it would make their day. Maybe even their lives.”

“So far.”

“So far. Come on. What do you say?”

“Honestly? It’d make my day too. I could touch base with the fire elves…work with the shift managers of each department to pick a lighter workforce day…it may not stop the Resort entirely…but we gotta try.”

[find out how this goes by reading the remainder of Y7 HERE on ao3 and HERE on fanfiction dot net!]

[spicy-batman]

All Tied Up: Akira Hayama

(Akiiiiiiiiira Hayamaaaaa~~ God... This man... Did anyone else think he looked drool worthy tied to that seat? If yes then lucky you!! If not then you need to go reread/rewatch and behold the glory. Also his hair is to die fooooooooor)

Rating: Explicit. Kinda SMUT? Maybe...

Summary: Did you want to tie up your boyfriend after seeing how he trained for the Fall Selection? HECK YES. Was Akira down for it? Not that he'd admit it but...

Pairings: Akira Hayama x F!Reader

Warnings: No real plot. SMUTTY IDEAS. Blindfolded Akira. Restrained Akira. Teasing. Language. Might have missed some, you get what you're given!! But enjoy anyway~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well... Don't you look appetising, hmm Akira?~"

"Tch... This isn't a new thing for you to play around with Y/N..."

"Isn't it? You seem to be enjoying yourself as much as I am"

"T-That's not true- Nggh~... Y/N..."

The sound of her name on Akira's tongue sent a ripple of pleasure down the girls spine. His moan had done exactly the same not even a second before, but the tone of it, the fusion of lust, warning and want all combined into one frustrated growl set her nerves on the most alluring edge.

The sight of him as he was right now was truly the most delicious she had ever laid eyes on, even more glorious than any dish she had cooked, baked, or seen with her own two eyes and hands since entering this academy for the culinary arts. As soon as she had bumbled into the Shinomi Seminar and beheld him like this for the first time, she made it her mission to have him in such a state again.

Which she had thankfully achieved, albeit with a little help from Alice Nakari and Ryo Kurokiba in the distraction of Jun Shiomi for a few hours. She was happy that Jun adored her so much, being Akira's first girlfriend and all... But it was hard to be together without her working a few doors away or gushing over how sweet they both looked together, and the woman did deserve a break from her science in her own right. Tonight was a win win for everyone! Well... Everyone but Akira Hayama if Y/N had her way.

"Untie me Y/N! This is your last warning!... "

"What? So you can get me back as soon as your hands are free? I might not have a nose like you, but I can smell that trick a mile away Hayama"

Akira only growled once more in response to her, straining against the silk knots that bound him to the chair he was sat and blindfolded upon 15 minutes ago, tricked into another scent test that quickly became focused on a different kind of spice than he expected. Not that he was complaining, his pride kept him from openly admitting how the loss of touch and sight seemed to warm his blood in all the right ways, he just didn't like not getting his way. Being denied. Being teased.

He was the one who held the reigns in that department of the bedroom. Taking his time to find the ultimate concoction that would send her catatonic, spiralling into euphoria, until all she cared to remember was the name 'Akira Hayama'. But it seemed her recette for today was retaliation, and ever the supporting boyfriend, he supposed he was more curious to see what heights she would take them to to not act fully on his irritation of being restrained.

Definitely not so he could learn and outdo her next time... Totsuki really did ingrain competition into their bones...

"Trick or not, are you really willing to risk tha- Aah~"

A deep blush bloomed on his skin at the sound she released from his throat, but it mattered little compared to the pleasure that sprung from the darkness like a predator to prey, its heat running up his spine in tandem with the tongue that made a long pass from his exposed collar up over his throat, to finish with teeth sunk softly and playfully into his bottom lip .

He could feel her chuckle against his lips as much as he heard it, could feel her body heat so close to him and smell the sweet, familiar scent of her hair as it gently brushed and mingled with his own white locks. The close proximity, the attack of 3 senses at once, knowing who had him in the palm of their hand, it all rushed down to the only place that could betray his attempt at keeping his cool, and he could only pray for his pride that she didn't notice it until she had done a little more work.

While perfect for testing his nose, this blindfold was going to end him if it wasn't taken off soon.

"Oh, now THAT was a sound I'll never get tired of hearing! You're cute when you want to be Akira~"

"Call me cute one more time and see what comes of it when i'm freed. Remember... You can't keep me tied here forever, love. I will get you back~"

"Heheh, I'm planning on it~"

A click of shoes either side of him let him know and brace for her next course, and his legs came closer together on instinct to form a comfortable space as she settled herself to sit on his lap. His reward for it came in the form of a kiss, gentle and loving at first, that gradually became a battle of tongues and dominance the more Akira wanted the control back, and to his utter male pride, she fell quicker than anticipated.

Her soft moans where music to his ears, combined with the feel of her body pressed to his own and the sweet taste only he would ever be allowed to share with her, it all blended and painted the most exquisite image in his darkened vision, one that he allowed his body to desire and fall prey to happily.

The kiss ended to soon for Akira's liking, but there was little he could do with his hands bound, he could only groan in frustration and give chase as far as his arms could allow. It was only at the stopping point that he realised she had unbound his hair at some point, the strands tickling his skin as he wobbled a bit from the speed he had used to capture her sweet lips again, but he quickly got them back under control to save them both from an unfortunate tumble.

The giggle that fell from her lips at the almost accident was a different piece of art all together, a melody that sparked flowers to bloom in his chest, and he couldn't stop himself from matching the sound equally. Her fingers caressed his jaw line affectionately, and Akira's lips naturally fell open to catch her index fingertip softly between his teeth in a playful gesture, even as he felt her other hand not so secretly begin to undo the buttons of his uniform as it drifted down his heated body.

“Someone’s eager to move things along~ I thought you wanted to make the best of my predicament?“

“I do, but don’t think I haven’t noticed your problem“

Akria stiffened at the words, every sense now focusing on the soft hands that got lower and lower, each button that popped open at an agonizing pace, until they finally touched upon the belt at his hips, where they wasted no time to work it open before undoing his pants right after. He sighed in relief at the release, the pressure eased a little but not near what he desired or the way he wanted her to do it. Yet he still felt on edge, especially as the warmth her body provided vanished, following the same path but leaving a trail of kisses down his exposed chest until he was certain she had settled between his open legs. 

“Let’s fix that shall we, Ak-iiiiiiiira?~“

“Fix it?- W-Wait... You can’t-... At least let me see it ha- Aaaah!~ Fuck~“

“Hehe, cute~“

(God i’m mean. Always before it gets good!)

[gojoho]

PATIENCE

• pairing; au!ryomen sukuna x reader

• premise; you were different than the rest, and with a simple touch the devil makes peace with his boredom for the taste of your skin.

• words; 2,798

• note & warning; every time i proofread what my demon chose to write at three in the morning i cry. why am i like this? honestly, i had so much trouble with sukuna it's amazing that i found a ground to make this on. anyway...unprotected sex ( wrap it up or pack it up ), dirty language, ownership, creampie-breeding kink? i never know which one it is, these mfs just never pullout. enjoy i suppose?

Sukuna was accustomed to the cults that proudly proclaimed him as their leader, or better yet, The Chosen. False disciples to his name, many of which tried to justify their treacherous lives in comparison to his glory. A pathetic bunch he wasted little time over, not one of them much of a rivalry towards that of a king. Though your blood was far too innocent, even for a ruthlessly being as himself, he would not take on such a burdened responsibility. Having been blamed for far less, he wouldn’t live this one down. Feasibly the only reason death escaped you.

Obsession, fascination, none of which seemed that far from one another with him, nor did it matter. At any capacity mortals were tedious, their petty materialistic need; gold this, that, and whatnot. Maybe he was just bored, but then he wouldn’t be giving you much credit, would he? He was quite patient for his tetchy personality, letting you grow accustomed to his territory, where you’d spend the rest of your days. A cub seeing the pride lands for the first time.

“Follow the rules, and you’ll do just fine little cub.” You never shied from his touch, letting him indulge your soft skin, squeezing, nipping, kissing every and anywhere he pleased. But your worth was still up for question thus far, what did you bring that the others couldn’t.

“Open.” You would sit between his legs, knees bent to his divinity abiding every command. Allowing his salty fingers against your tongue, their cleanliness unbeknownst to everyone except him, but it only made you suck on them more. “So eager for me to ruin you.”

That made two of you, but he wouldn’t, not just yet.

He kept you, his precious new pet, close. Allowing your scent to fill his bed, swarm his clothes, and plague him with a hunger driven by an appetite that was you. It wasn’t as if he didn’t trust you, he didn’t trust anyone, but he did trust your behavior. The way you managed to curl up against him at night, your soft snores fanning his back, no matter how much space there was in his bed. How you followed behind him everywhere he went, involuntarily making things less...irritating. Yet your consistency didn’t extend towards the others. Vicious and vengeful, they’d see to it that he’d fall by any means necessary. Even if it meant going through you or letting it be by your own hand.

“Cub,” he’d call you over, legs wide and waiting. You’d mount him facing forward, shamelessly letting your body unwind against his touch.

Fingers working the robes from your frame with ease, instant access to the skin beneath. All while his lips worked around your neck, touching up his handiwork of pink and purple blotches around it. The product of every session. Before he’d break you off, truly make you his, preparation was in order. It’s started with your chest, his hold over your bosom, the small mouthes in each hand working their peaks. Swirling sucking nibbling away at their tenderness until you’d grind against his bulge. Drenching him with your arousal. Clothes only got in his way, he’d have you roam around naked if he pleased but that was sight met only for his eyes, and his alone. Your robes, makeshift Sukuna hand-me-downs, was a barrier between the world and what was his.

After all, it was his touch that made you a mess. ”You're already so wet for me, little cub. Maybe I'll fuck you tonight. Maybe.”

He moved a hand to your heat, parted your folds with two slender fingers while the other hand still devoured your nipple. Sukuna was greedy, common knowledge to anyone who came across the curse, but with a hunger driven by your flesh, he was more insatiable than ever. It wouldn't be long until you were writhing in his lap, every bit of noise coming from your lips. Crying out as he worked your orgasm with his fingers plunged deep in your depths and the tongue on his palm lapping at your clit feverishly.

”Kuna,” you'd mewl, with arms stretched up to his face. The only person still alive to say it let alone give him a nickname.

The rules were simple;

Speak when spoken too

Eye contact

No kissing

A cruel rule that reminded you what the relationship was. He wasn't your lover or anything to you. You belonged to him and he'd use you however he saw fit. If that meant raw dogging you, believe he'd fuck you silly.

Simple, but still difficult nonetheless. He watched your face upturn in admiration, eyes flickering between his and his lips with each whimper. You wanted to kiss him, have his tongue so far down your throat until you choked. Sukuna knew all too well the look you gave him and smirked pressing his fingers deeper, taking your wanton ones to hold his cheek into his mouth. The closet you've gotten to a kiss, but soon your eyes would wander to mess that was your body, watching him unravel your seams, the first orgasm shuddered throughout you.

The first time he had his way, you'd barely made it past one orgasm from his fingers. Now it was six, with at most his fingers and three mouths. He wondered if you’d handle his cock if thrown into the mix. With that thought alone his mind wandered, you handled his hands well but the mystery behind your lips made him twitch just thinking about it. A pretty face with such a content expression, so grateful he granted you a full mouth. Could you handle all of him? If you could, he would've taken what was already his, turned you inside out, and left your body useless to any other being but him.

He deprived himself of a release, letting it build along his thighs and boil at the deepest parts of his body. You were going to take it all from him, feed his hunger while he quenched yours. Truly teaching you what it meant to belong to Ryomen Sukuna, The Great King of Curses.

Each session left you craving more, made your hips sink further against his moving in pure need. Sukuna let you wallow in your tension, desire unkempt and rowdy beneath his nose. You were conflicted between the logic prancing your mind and the hunger of your heat. Where the thought of him feeding you more than just a few fingers made it throb for a release, to be relieved from the fear that kept it empty and unfulfilled.

You'd missed the comfort his presence brought to the bed when pressing matters stole his attention, without it sleep was surreal. Eluding your conscience till he would come back late into the morning, exhaustion settling through the afternoon if he allowed you to. Until one afternoon where he’d prepare to set off again, another village another reign of terror, Sukuna almost missed the tiny grasp at his robes. The few steps he took towards to the exit fell short by his other end.

”Please,” you'd whisper out pleading for him to stay with a mere word.

For a minute, with his sudden stride and grip over your jaw, you think it's enough. That the way he searched your eyes with his bright red pair, you thought you’d convince him. ”If you expect me to abandon my duties for that cunt of yours, you’re going to have to try harder than that little cub.”

His lips ghosted yours, taunting that separate ache from the rest of your body. Practically testing you to see if you’d break one of his rules; screaming to go ahead, kiss him.

”Well then?” he cooed, lips nearly there but your silence only irritated him. Did he spoil you too much, indeed give you too much credit and mistaken you for something you weren't—

”Please Kuna, I need you.”

”Cute…” He smirked, thumb slipping between the two of you teasing your bottom lip. ”No.”

It was a lie if he said he wouldn't turn you around right there and give in to the temptation. Fill your womb with what felt like decades' worth of his cum. Staining his sheets and your insides. Sukuna already knew you needed him, it was because of that need, that the light in your eyes settled to a palpable glow. Later completely gone by the time of his return.

Sukuna never thought to imagine you upset, not with the way you clung to him. Never did he think it would upset him as much as it did. You slept far from his end of the bed, shielding your body from his touch with the linen. The nerve of you, but he knew it was only a matter of time until he’d have you in his lap again.

Wrong.

Too much time had passed since he denied you of your request, too much time since he’s touched you, too much time since you’ve touched him.

“Cub” he called, but for the first time, he was met with hesitance.

You sat on his lap, back to his chest as per usual, but without your usual excitement. Nothing he couldn’t fix, and like always he started with your chest, getting you to flood over his crotch. By then Sukuna would’ve gotten at least a whimper but you remain uncharacteristically quiet to his touch, jabbing at his ego. Come to find out you’d bitten your lip, holding off from letting him hear just how good he was making you feel.

“Brat,” he hissed with the teeth in his hand nibbling at nothing but your clit but even then the most he got was a huff. “Fine, if that’s how you want to play this game.”

It didn’t take much to lift you up from his chair, face planting you straight into the bed. You yelp at the sudden grip over your waist as it hauls your bottom half into to air. This was far from what he planned, but he’d be a fool to let you carry on with your childish ways.

There was no protest with the way he positioned himself to his knees behind you, shedding himself of his robes, setting his cock free into the late-night air. You would never shy away from looking at him naked, curious of every black line, where they connected and didn’t connect. Still, only catching brief glimpses of him, but now that it was there before you—just one taste, that was enough right? It would make any man happy to hide his cock in a pretty mouth like yours, burying it far beneath your throat, hell it made Sukuna weigh his options but he was beyond horny and irritated.  

He gifts himself a few strokes, over your cunt, introducing it to its owner. Coating himself in the mix of his salvia and your arousal before pushing the tip past the slick gates of his personal Eden. He sunk into your bowels just past the tip before meeting the resistance of your walls. There was no distinction as to whether you’d been too tight or that he was too big, just that it made him want more. A snug fit, one in which he yearned to destroy, leaving you walls irreversibly stretched.

Your arms flailed around, desperate to find anything to grip onto but Sukuna didn’t give you much of a chance before introducing the rest of his inches to your heat.

“Fuck,” you whined. A squeak of unbearable amazement that all of him was inside you. “Wait.”

He was going to bury himself down to the hilt, each time, fuck you till you were a simpleton. It was always his intention to do so, but your impatience got the best of him.

”Quiet, ” he growled spreading your ass to see himself encased by your insides. Surprisingly you swallowed him whole, but he was sure if you kept squirming away it’d be even more painful. ”This is what you wanted, wasn't it? My cock in this slutty hole of yours.”

”Kuna please.”

”Please Kuna, I need you—is that not what you said?”

”Yes…but fuck—”

”Well now you got me, so keep fucking still and take it.” He shooed your pleading palm from his view and adjusted himself. The movement drove him deeper and you mewled beneath him like a feral feline.

A draft followed behind his pelvis as he pulled out only about halfway, your pussy gripping him as he did. He didn’t trust you wouldn’t squirm again and anchored your hips to his grip. Snapping into you once more, stretching more than his previous thrust.

Sukuna took pride in the size of his cock, in the way it left room for only one, only him. You were going to split in two, or at least it felt like it; he was so big, out of place, but just big. Though that was merely the calm before the storm, with no confirmation let alone sign to warn you, he moved again. Starting off with a strong rhythm that rocked the entire bed. He didn’t do slow, his adjective was to punish, ruin, destroy exactly why you were to be prepared.

With a guttural groan, you felt his cock work, biting against the linens as it drilled in and out of your slickness, squelching all around it.

“Listen to that,” he cooed. “Telling me to wait when your pussy sounds like this. I’m going to fill you up so well. Is that what you want kitten?”

Kitten…

An upgrade from little cub you suppose. The harder he goes, the louder both ends of your body get. Wanted was putting it loosely, it was something, if not the only thing, you needed. Yet it’s still not enough, and so Sukuna stops, leaving you lost to the pleasure he provided. Still full with his cock you moan, pleading for him to continue, eyes barely open and lips pierced by your top teeth. “You know the rules. Speak.”

Bucking against him, desperate for any friction, you whined. “Kuna.”

“Whining gets you nowhere,” He said teasing you with slow strokes in time with your desperate hips. “Answer. The. Question.”

“Yes, ” You were begging for it, the high fading from the mind a little too quickly. ”I need it, all of it.”

Now that you stroked his pride, it was only fair he’d returned the favor. Fleeing from their post against your chest, Sukuna’s hands reach up to your throat. Pulling you up to your own knees, squeeze gently. Pumping into your dripping cunt faster, harder, deeper. Strumming at the chords of your orgasm with each lewd noise he pulled with his cock. Saliva dribbling from your chin.

“Look at you,” he grunted, his own pleasure catching up to him. “Drooling from both ends.”

“Sukuna.”

He leaned into your hands, giving permission for them to tug at his roots, while he nuzzled his nose over your cheek, taking in every crude scent. “Hmm, fucking perfect.”

A compliment if he’d ever given you one, his irritation fleeing from his body and the only thing he can think about is just how good it felt to finally be inside you. The ache of his cock finally being milked.  His hand traveled down your body, caressed every curve, every nipple until they settled on your hips.

”Get down, and open up for me.” he ordered quietly, letting his pace falter before getting an obedient ’hmm’

Anything for Sukuna, anything that brought on your orgasm. You arched forward and parted your knees wider, sighing from his hand over your ass again. Kneading and pulling each cheek apart. Picking up the pace again, he wanted to see his cock twitch inside you. See how your body would react. Sukuna wanted to see the mess he made of your hole.

You let a series of colorful curses fly, it was hard to say anything with the explosion inside you, the heat itching just beneath your skin as the adrenaline spiked and rocked you into oblivion.

“Sukuna,” you managed to say but he already knew, feeling the coiling contraction refusing to let him go. A deadly grip that sucked his orgasm through.

The visible veins around his cock, throbbing beneath the thin layer of skin. Slightly moving as the rest of his length spasmed violently against the confines of your flutters. ”Fuck, look at you go, milking me dry.”

His cum wasn't as fluid as it was thick, weeks of pent up lust oozing from your folds. But it meant nothing more but for Sukuna to click his tongue and thrust forward gently a few more times. Fucking it all back into you. Your body twitched ”Oi, shape up, I've only just begun. Besides, I want to try that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You were going to ruin him, as he was you.

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Names and Faces

Context:  Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

Word Count: 6,477

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

It goes like this:

Nobody wants to separate Anakin from the children in his care until they know more about why he’s here. The gamble paid off, to some degree, and he thanks the Force that it did.

He hasn’t felt that cold in years.

He knows the logic of why the Mandalorians he’s fallen in with aren’t doing anything yet. He’s an obvious Jedi, and they don’t know why he’s here or what he’s doing. Hedging on the Mando’a and the cultural obligation to childcare hadn’t been anything close to sure, but it was... enough. He got lucky that these Mandalorians leaned on those obligations, at least to the point of keeping them all in the same room. He can sense that much, even before he opens his eyes, and he has to be grateful.

The looming hypothermia had probably nudged things in his favor.

Anakin opens his eyes to a guest room of a cell, something well-furnished and cozy, but definitely not meant to be something he can escape from. His saber is gone, and there are Force-nullifying cuffs on his wrists, and he’s pretty sure they’ve taken his--yep, vibroblade’s gone.

Fuck.

His body doesn’t want to move, and he’s still shivering a bit, but he’s mostly back to normal. When he sits up, he notices that there is, in fact, only one Force-nullifying cuff. They detached his arm.

He closes his eyes and breathes deep and tells himself it was probably medically necessary. Large pieces of metal aren’t great for maintaining homeostasis. He’ll get it back.

Probably.

“Ah!”

The voice makes him jolt, and his eyes fly open.

Two cribs, one much bigger than the other. Both are occupied. The larger one has bars, and through it...

“Snips,” he breathes, lurching to his feet and then crashing to his knees, about as graceful as a newborn eopie.

“Bah!”

“Just--just one second,” Anakin grits out, grimacing as he tries to pull himself to standing again. The fact that he’s down an arm doesn’t impact him much, but the shakiness of his legs is... a problem.

“Owwww,” Ahsoka coos with an exaggerated grimace, reacting to his pain with the innocent sympathy of a toddler. She looks, what, two? Maybe? He’s not sure if there’s anything particular about how Togruta babies age. She’s too young for words, clearly.

“I’m fine,” Anakin assures her, even as his heart sinks. She’s Ahsoka, clearly, he knows her in the Force and it can’t be anyone else, but her memories...

She recognizes him, but that’s not saying much.

He manages to get over to the chair next to the crib, but doesn’t trust himself to take her out right now. The snow and the mess of a fight before that haven’t been kind to him. Instead, he just sticks his hand through the bars and lets her grab at his fingers.

He can’t help but smile, really. She’s adorable, and she’s so damn happy to see him.

“Skyguy!”

“Oh, so you are talking,” Anakin says, part of him relaxing just a tad. “I was worried.”

“Mine,” she stresses, patting at his wrist.

“Yeah, your Skyguy,” he says. So she remembers... some things, at least. “And you’re my Snips.”

She squeals and yanks on his hand, just enough that the Force-suppressing cuff clanks against the bars of the crib. “Sky, Sky, Sky!”

Oh, she’s precious.

“You having fun?” he asks, filling the air with words faster than his head can fill with doubts. “Has everyone been nice?”

“Mmmmm,” she grumbles, falling to her butt with a huff. “Doc!”

“Oh, a doctor?” he asks, wondering at his own tone. He never expected to be one for baby-talk. “Was the doctor mean?”

“Cold!” she tells him. “Cold here!”

She taps at her chest, right where someone might check her heartbeat or breathing; the metal would be cold, and also necessary. He doesn’t fault anyone for it. Considering how poorly Anakin had fared, he’s just happy they’re all alive and mostly fine.

He doesn’t know what year it is. He knows he’s not in the year he should be. He’s vaguely aware of the name Jaster--one of the Mandos had said it while bringing him in--but he doesn’t know when Mereel’s reign ended and Fett’s began. He does know both are supposed to be dead.

Has Anakin been born yet? Has Ahsoka? Hell, has Obi-Wan?

Can he give out any real names?

A series of small, upset noises start coming up from the other, smaller crib.

He stands, but Ahsoka clings to his hand and refuses to let go. He can’t pry her off, not without his other arm, but he pulls away with quiet reassurances that he just has to check on... on...

Her brother, he says, aware that there’s more than a slight chance someone has the room bugged. He’s a Jedi in Mando custody. They aren’t stupid, and neither is he.

Obi-Wan’s the most likely to have already been born. Having the same name and face will draw attention, will cause questions, but... he can’t just rename his master like a recently-adopted pet. That’s just... wrong.

Anakin’s less shaky than when he first woke up, but he still has no way of safely picking up the kids. He reaches into the small crib, something twisting behind his sternum, and tickles under Obi-Wan’s chin.

The baby--the infant--looks up at him with wide eyes, too blue for the Obi-Wan he knows, but full of wonder and--

Love, the Force whispers through the cracks in the effects of the cuff.

“Love you too,” Anakin whispers, though he wonders if Obi-Wan would really feel like this as an adult again. Babies love easily, he thinks, and he’s the only adult that Obi-Wan knows right now. Maybe it’s just chemicals.

He stands there for longer than is probably a good idea, with the state of his body, but he can’t help it. Obi-Wan keeps grabbing at his finger and kicking with tiny legs, and sticking a tiny, tiny fist in his mouth as he tries watches Anakin.

It’s all Anakin can do to mutter a stream of meaningless nonsense as he struggles not to cry. He’s always had too many emotions, and right now he’s the only person these two can rely on. He’s the adult.

The door whooshes open.

“The medic said you were awake.”

He knows that voice. He closes his eyes and doesn’t turn, because there are a million feelings in his chest and he’s not sure which one is going to come out first.

“Sky?” Ahsoka questions, likely feeling his worry. “Issokay! Good!”

No, she wouldn’t have the mind to recognize why this familiar face she knows as friend is quite the opposite.

Anakin turns away from the crib, and smiles. “Mando.”

“Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker,” the teenager in the door says. He’s not wearing his bucket, but the rest of his armor is in place. Anakin would peg him as younger than Ahsoka was, before. Not by much, but... fourteen, maybe fifteen. The face is painfully familiar, and stays utterly neutral as he answers the question Anakin didn’t ask. “We found your Ident card after you passed out.”

Cool, so, Anakin definitely can’t change his name.

“Are they yours?” the teenager that will one day create an army says.

“They have no one else,” Anakin tells him. It’s true enough. Still, he gets the feeling that’s not what Fett’s asking. “They’re family.”

Jango squints at him. “I was told Jedi can’t have families.”

Anakin’s mind flashes to Padme and the fantasies he’d long harbored of children born free, and tears himself away. He can’t think about that right now. He can’t think of who he’s--

“Jetii!”

Anakin’s head snaps up, and he realizes he’s shaking. Fett’s not neutral anymore, just... concerned.

“I’m fine,” Anakin spits out, and leans on the crib behind him. He can hear the little ones whimpering. He has to pull his thoughts in and bundle them up into something that won’t hurt the incredibly Force-Sensitive babies behind him. “I’m--I’m all they have. They’re all I have. Are the exact words important?”

Fett doesn’t grimace, exactly, but his expression isn’t pleasant. “I guess.”

Anakin waits to see if there’s anything else coming, but no. Just an awkward silence. He holds onto his frustration, but it still gets the better of him.

“What are my chances of getting my arm back?” he asks.

“Hm?”

Anakin waves what’s left of that arm, the tied-off sleeve flapping about. “My arm. If you don’t want to give me mine back, can I at least have some kind of placeholder? I can’t pick up the babies without worrying that I’m going to drop them.”

“I can ask the medics,” Fett says. He stares at Anakin for a little more, and then asks, “Aren’t you going to ask about our plans for you, or...?”

“If you wanted to kill me, you already would have,” Anakin mutters. “Right now, these two are my only priority. I’m more likely to keep them safe and alive here than I am if I try to break out. I can be patient. I would also assume they wouldn’t have been left in a room with me, alone, if any of us were in danger of medical complications.”

Fett flushes and turns. “I’ll tell buir you’re up and active. There’s a nurse droid in the hall, I can have it handle feedings until you get an arm.”

“Thanks,” Anakin drawls, aware that he’s a little bitchy right now, but not in any mood to temper himself.

He settles himself on the floor next to Ahsoka’s crib, lets her play with his hair while the nurse droid feeds Obi-Wan, and then feeds Ahsoka herself. Anakin thinks he could probably pull the droid apart for an escape attempt if it came down to it. He hopes it won’t be necessary. He’s barely existing in the moment as it is. The droid asks Anakin if he needs anything, and he... shrugs.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Perhaps some non-perishables,” the nurse droids suggests. “Ration bars, for if you are hungry before one of the Mando’ade returns.”

Anakin shrugs again. “Alright.”

He ignores the droid after that. He’s only mostly cut off from the Force by the single cuff. He can’t blanket his Master and Padawan in his own Force presence, try to make them feel safe and calm with the fact that he’s here and ready to protect them, but he can monitor them. He can meditate, even if it’s not the way he prefers to do it. He doesn’t have the strength for moving meditation right now, but a regular meditation... he can do that.

He needs to do that, because no other stress relief option is available to him right now.

Anakin lets himself feel the babies fall asleep, the two of them radiating contentment and warmth. He lets himself trust that, for the moment, he doesn’t need to worry. He lets himself sink into an absence of thought, and then the Force guides him deeper still.

“Anakin!”

His eyes fly open.

This is not the real world.

This is not the room-cell in the Haat Mando’ade base he’s managed to stumble across.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says again, a smile hidden in a beard and worn laugh lines about his eyes. The right age, the right size, reaching for him and--

There’s only a moment’s hesitation for Anakin to process, and then he sprints forward and yanks his Master into a hug.

“You’re good,” Obi-Wan mutters to him, rubbing his back as they both sink to their knees. There’s a click of bootheels against the empty white not-space that they’re in, and Ahsoka buries herself into their sides. Anakin pulls her in a little closer too.

They stay that for longer than is maybe necessary, but Anakin’s stress levels are sky high right now, and he needs this. A hug, even one that’s technically only taking place in his head, is important.

“Sorry, Skyguy,” Ahsoka whispers. “Thinking in the real world is... really hard right now.”

He pulls away from the desperate hug he’d started them off with, rearranges things so he’s leaning against Obi-Wan, lets Ahsoka lie down with her head in his lap, on her back and legs stretched out across the white nothingness.

“I don’t know what happened,” Anakin says. “I mean, Sith stuff, probably, but... we’re in the wrong year.”

“I’d wondered,” Obi-Wan admits. “I thought it odd that I couldn’t feel the clones, but I only have so much energy to think right now...”

“Please tell me there’s a way to fix it,” Anakin begs. “I can’t be the adult, Obi-Wan. I haven’t even been born yet, that’s how far back we are. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t just bang around making bad decisions without you there to pull me back and--”

“Breathe,” Obi-Wan tells him.

“We’re in the Force,” Anakin says, just a little hysterically. “We don’t need to breathe!”

“Actually, I think we’re in your head,” Ahsoka says. She’s pointing and stretching her feet like a dancer, but looks up to grin at Anakin like the little shit she is. “You’re the only one whose brain is big enough right now.”

“Hey,” Anakin complains, putting his entire palm over her face as revenge. She giggles and swats him away. “That any way to talk to the guy who taught you how to kill five guys in one move?”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes and runs a hand over her montrals, smiling when she wriggles and makes a little chirruping noise.

“She’s not wrong,” Obi-Wan says. “Though the phrasing was unfortunate, it does stand to reason that as the only person without the brain of a toddler, you’re hosting. Our minds can’t handle the strain of our own selves, let alone sharing space.”

“Infant.”

“Hm?”

“Ahsoka’s a toddler. You’re an infant. Maybe six months.” Anakin grins, just this side of brittle. He doesn’t want to joke about a problem he can’t fix, but what else is there? “You’re the literal baby of the lineage now.”

Obi-Wan sighs over the riot of Ahsoka’s laugh. “Of course I am.”

“It’s okay, Master,” Ahsoka assures him. “Skyguy’s gonna take care of us until we can fight again.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, grimacing slightly. “I am sorry for you being put in such a position, Anakin. It’s certainly not an easy one.”

Anakin wishes he could say that his immediate reaction isn’t a sense of hurt, a you don’t trust me, a you don’t think I can do this, a you’re disappointed someone else wasn’t here to handle things instead.

He wishes he could make that claim and have anyone believe him, but they are in a shared meditation, and in this moment there are very, very few secrets. He does not make the effort to hide his reaction in time, and Obi-Wan catches it.

Anakin turns away as Obi-Wan’s face fills with surprise and horror. “Anakin--”

“Can we just pretend you didn’t feel that?” Anakin asks, and flinches when Ahsoka pops up from where she lies and scurries around to hug him like a vise. “Can we just pretend I’m not--”

“Dear one, there are very few people I would trust as much as you in this,” Obi-Wan says. “Those who match up are largely the people who helped me raise me when I was actually this age.”

“Being completely reliant on your padawan isn’t--”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, cutting him off there. “I can trust you to care for me in ways that don’t just come down to making me a useful general again. I already trust you to risk your life and safety and freedom to see us survive, given what little I remember of that storm.”

“You handed yourself over to Mandalorians you knew nothing about so we’d be safe,” Ahsoka mutters into the fabric somewhere over his ribs. “That could have gone really badly, and you still did it because you were worried about us.”

“We trust you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling Anakin to his chest and resting his chin on Anakin’s head. “We know you.”

“You don’t even know what happened in the storm,” Anakin mutters. “You were asleep.”

“I caught enough listening to the doctors,” Obi-Wan says. He runs a hand over Anakin’s head and through his hair. “You did well, Anakin.”

Anakin wonders why they don’t do this in real life. Obi-Wan doesn’t usually hug him, let alone cuddle. Maybe it’s because they’re all stuck in too much truth in this shared meditation, and the other two are currently stuck in child bodies that crave physical affection in ways they don’t realize they’re expressing in here as well. Maybe it’s the stress.

“What even can you hear?” Anakin mutters, still in Obi-Wan’s arms. Ahsoka giggles at him, nuzzling into his side in a way he doesn’t think she’d ever let herself, normally.

“We can’t really think in the real world right now,” she muses. “Only when we’re sleeping, and probably when we’re meditating once we’re bigger. If I try to think too hard, my head hurts worse than that time Ventress got me in the head with the back of her saber.”

“Everything takes up more space than it should,” Obi-Wan adds. “It’s... all of my senses are bigger and brighter and take up more of my attention, but they aren’t very clear, really. They’re just more. I can’t focus on anything, either, except... well, the feedings.”

Ahsoka makes an annoyed noise. “The whole diapers and bottles thing is really embarrassing, by the way. Only here, though, I barely notice when I’m awake because...”

“Because you’re a toddler,” Anakin says drily.

She huffs. “How would you feel if you were stuck like that?”

That’s fair.

“I don’t remember much,” Obi-Wan says carefully. “But part of me recognizes familiar things, even if I can’t quite make the connection.”

“Was that Fett, earlier?” Ahsoka asks. “Because I thought I saw a friend, and I pretty much forgot the face as soon as they left, but--”

“It’s Fett,” Anakin confirms. “But I guess that’s good to know? You saw his face and your baby brain just assumed it was one of the clones?”

“Pretty much.”

“And we know we trust you,” Obi-Wan adds, and tightens the hug when Anakin stiffens. “Anakin, I can barely understand the world around me at all right now. It’s like being on the painkillers that don’t knock you out but leave you saying only the most ridiculous things that come to mind. You have a general understanding of what’s going on, but all your emotions are too much and the room spins, you can’t stay on one track mentally, you can’t remember what you’ve done and what you haven’t--”

“You can’t control your bladder,” Ahsoka mutters, just a touch spitefully.

Obi-Wan grimaces and nods. “An unfortunate commonality in the experiences, yes. What I was aiming to address, however, is the fact that I only remember a very few things with any reliability. Most of my adult mind, so to speak, appears to be stored in a stasis form in the Force itself, because the infant mind can only handle the barest edges of who I am. But what that infant mind knows, and what I remember thinking once I have some sense of my full self in sleep, is that there is no one I react to as positively as you, Anakin.”

“What he’s trying to say,” Ahsoka interrupts, “but can’t because he’s trying to be a serene Jedi Councilor who definitely doesn’t break the code, nosiree, is that we don’t remember much about ourselves when we’re awake, but we remember you, and we know that we love you, Skyguy.”

Anakin stares at her, and then twists around to look at Obi-Wan instead.

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka croons. “Stop being emotionally constipated. We’re literal babies right not, which sucks, but we’re like 90% emotion. Tell Skyguy.”

“Yes, er, Ahsoka was not incorrect,” Obi-Wan says, stroking his beard and refusing to meet Anakin’s eyes. “I, that is to say, we...”

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka says, a touch sharper than she might have dared if not for the reversal of their ages.

“I do love you, Anakin, and it’s one of the only things my child mind knows consistently.”

The Force does, in fact, sing with the truth of this. It circles them like a delighted tornado of emotional reality, pulsing like a coat of positivity.

Anakin buries his face in Obi-Wan’s shoulder and hugs him as tightly as possible.

“Oh! Oh dear, I--Anakin, really, this isn’t news.”

“Master Kenobi, you’re allergic to actually talking about your emotions. Let him hug you.”

“Anakin, I’ve raised you since you were nine, it would be nearly impossible for me to not care, why are you--”

“Master Kenobi, stop questioning him!” Ahsoka whines. “It’s affirmation time.”

“Ahsoka, have you been spending time with the mind healers again?”

“I was a teenager in a warzone and also Barriss bullied me into it for my own good.” Ahsoka shrugs. “I learned some stuff. You two should have gone, too. You were more karked up than I was.”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan scolds.

“What are you going to do, spit up on me? You can’t exactly make me run laps, Master.”

“Both of you shut up,” Anakin mumbles, and tries to push as much of his own affection as possible into a little ball of feelings that he can just drop on the two of them while he’s still in his own brain and not somewhere he can’t touch the Force. “Just--just shut.”

Apparently, Anakin’s feelings are a lot, because Ahsoka bursts into tears and Obi-Wan zones out so hard Anakin starts worrying about him.

They’re in a mindscape, a thing that he didn’t really think happened, but does. He shouldn’t have to worry about his--

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling him in tighter. “Why did you...”

“Skyguy, I don’t think you planned on putting in the part where you worry about nobody loving you back as much as you loved them,” Ahsoka says, raw and uneven. “Because, uh, we got that? Skyguy, that’s really wrong!”

Oh shit.

“No, you were... you were not supposed to get that,” he says, just a little strangled. “I am so sorry, that wasn’t--”

“Be our dad.”

Anakin stares down at his Padawan. She stares determinedly back.

“What?”

“Fett asked if we were yours, and you edged around the question by saying we were family, but he was asking if you were our dad. I’m guessing you didn’t want to claim that when we couldn’t agree to it, so I’m telling you now: do it. Adopt us the Mandalorian way or whatever. You were already my older brother, basically, this is just a step sideways in how we talk about it.”

He stares at her a bit more. He doesn’t have words, and his emotions are such a cyclone of conflicting thoughts that he’s surprised the Force hasn’t tossed him out.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be born, but if I am, then I need a name so I don’t have the same one as future me,” she says. She takes his hands, holds them tight and leans in close. “You’re going to be raising us anyway. The Force already made it clear there’s no fixing this, we tried asking while you were unconscious, it wants us to grow up the long way. You’re going to be our dad. Just make it official. Make me a Skywalker.”

Anakin sits up straight, looks her up and down, the determination and affection and--

He turns to look at Obi-Wan. “Master?”

“...yes, Anakin?”

“I know she said ‘we’ and ‘us,’ but I’m not letting anyone speak for anyone else. Not for something this important.”

Obi-Wan blinks at him, and then rearranges himself to something a tad more formal. He takes one of Anakin’s hands in his own. “Anakin, we’ve been family since you were nine. This is just redefining the terms. We can adjust as we go forward, but for all intents and purposes, the majority of the time, I will be that youngling in the cot. For all intents and purposes, I will be your child, and... and I would be honored for you to make that official.”

“Even if it breaks the Code?” Anakin presses.

“All is as the Force wills it,” Obi-Wan says, almost but not quite overriding Ahsoka’s, “This doesn’t break the Code.”

They both turn to look at her. She shrugs. “What? You guys are always arguing about it and Skyguy was married. I went and did some digging about what is and isn’t allowed. This adoption would be skirting the edges of some rules, since we should be taken to the creche to be raised in a communal manner, and official adoptions are discouraged for reasons relating to later padawan stuff, but since the Force is also insisting we stay with the Mandalorians, I think it qualifies as an exception and will be treated as such, retroactively, by the Council. You also won’t be able to take either of us as Padawan once that time comes. It does not, however, violate the Code in and of itself.”

“What the hell, Snips?”

“I’m impressed, young one,” Obi-Wan says, with a smile Anakin can feel. “I could have expected to see you in court in a few years, with an argument like that.”

“You knew I was married?” Anakin squeaks.

“Rex isn’t a very good liar,” she says. She then droops. “Or, he wasn’t. Wouldn’t be. He tried, at least, but I caught on. That was against the Code, though. Just so you know.”

Anakin runs a hand over his face, tries very hard not to think about what and whom he’s left behind. He can save that breakdown for later.

He chances a look at Obi-Wan.

He gets a raised eyebrow in response.

“You’re not mad?”

“I knew you and the Senator were close, considering all the kissing you did in the Arena,” Obi-Wan says drily. Anakin isn’t stupid enough to ask how he knows it’s Padme. “I didn’t know you were married, and am a little disappointed you didn’t at least tell me, or consult me before you did it, considering you were still a padawan... but no, I’m not mad. Even if I were--and I am not--we’ve time-traveled, so I’m fairly certain that qualifies as annulment. It’s a non-issue.”

Anakin pushes down the tidal wave of grief for people who haven’t been born yet, and just breathes instead. This is important. This is too important for him to just kriff it up.

“Names,” he says.

“I still want part of it to be ‘Soka,’ if you don’t think it’s too risky.”

Obi-Wan shrugs with a smile. “Almost every time I’ve posed as a Mandalorian, since my first mission with Satine, I’ve gone by Ben. It would be fitting that, now that we’re here and apparently staying, I take the name for real.”

Anakin nods. He closes his eyes, and breathes deep, and thinks that they may be among Mandalorians on a world of snow, but he has the desert in his bones and will never forget it.

“Ahsoka Tano, sister of my heart,” he says, hoping he’s getting the words right, and takes her hands in his. It’ll have more meaning here and now, where they’re both of full mind. He holds her gaze. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my daughter, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Sokanth Skywalker, she who slips through every hunter’s trap, and you are my child.”

She smiles brightly at him, and looks like she might cry. He presses his lips to her forehead. He turns to his Master. He hesitates, because it’s one thing to redefine his little sister, but...

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, father of my heart,” he says, his voice catching where it shouldn’t. He can do this. It’s weird but he can do this. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my son, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Ylliben Skywalker, he who hunts the monsters of the darkest nights, and you are my child.”

The man before him almost laughs, well aware of how absurd it is for Anakin to be the one adopting him, but keeps it limited to just a twinkle in his eye and a quirk to his lips. Anakin presses his lips to his teacher’s forehead.

He pulls both of them in close. Padawan and Master. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan.

Daughter and son. Soka and Ben. His.

“I’m still gonna call you Skyguy,” Soka says wetly. “But Mas--um, Ben. Ben can call you buir, all the Mandos are gonna love it.”

“Fine by me,” Anakin says. “I’m going to be telling you Tatooine bedtime stories, by the way. You’ll remember creche stories as you grow, but these’ll be new.”

“I do believe that would be appropriate,” Ben says, laughing just a touch. “I also think we should perhaps disband this, unless you have something else to address. You’re going to be dealing with two very cranky younglings soon.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna have headaches after this,” Soka laughs, rubbing her face against his shoulder. “But it’s okay, we got what we ne--”

“No, shut up, what you do mean, headaches? You said that was only when you were awake!”

“I mean, we’d be sobbing after like three minutes if we were awake,” Soka says cheerfully. “This way, it’s been like... an hour or whatever between all the talking and the hugging and the crying and the feelings, and we’re just gonna be grumpy.”

“Oh my--wake up!” Anakin growls at both of them. “I’m responsible for you now, wake up.”

He ignores Soka’s laughter and drags himself back to wakefulness. Behind him, he feels slight confusion and pain mixed with love and delight. Ben starts fussing.

Anakin drags a hand over his face and groans. He gets to his feet, nods to the nurse droid, and steps over to the cribs.

“Can we put them in the same one until I get my arm back?” he asks. The droid obliges, moving Ben to Soka’s crib. She immediately crawls over to him and envelops him in a hug. She pouts up at Anakin, eyes going watery, and he drops into the chair next to her and offers his hand through the bars. She grabs it.

“You’re going to be trouble for a long, long time, huh?”

She sticks her tongue out at him, and he smiles at her. Yes, trouble in spades, his Snips.

He starts telling her one of the fables of Tatooine, the really sanitized ones meant for children her age, before they got to the slave stories and haunt-tales. She falls asleep for real, no Force Shenanigans, shortly after. Ben is dead to the world by that point, making small snuffling noises whenever the blanket tickles his nose.

Anakin knows he’s got the galaxy’s dopiest smile on his face. It’s fine.

It’s a few more hours before someone stops by. He’s used the fresher by that point, helped the nurse droid coax Ben through a feeding, and helped Soka play with the little stuffed eopie they’ve given her.

“They got names, aruetti?”

He looks up and over. “Yes.”

The middle-aged man ambles over, arms crossed. “Jango said you claimed to be all they had left.”

He is. “They’re family. I’ve had a few hours to think it over, now that I’m not getting shot at or dying in the snow. To any system that allows it, I’ll be their father.”

“No chance of returning them to their people?”

Anakin shakes his head. “Soka has none who would recognize her, and I already--I already babysat her regularly, and she thought of me as a brother. It’s an easy next step.”

“And the human?”

“I... the master-padawan relationship is often one that is compared to that of parent and child,” Anakin says carefully. “My own master was like a father to me, and Ben is... Ben is all I have left of him.”

There. Not quite the truth, but... technically not lying.

Ben makes a small noise in his sleep, fussing, and Anakin reaches through the bars to brush his thumb across the infant’s chubby cheek. He smiles helplessly as Ben whines and curls in tighter on himself, pressing a tiny fist to his mouth.

“You’re good,” Anakin whispers. “We’re fine, Ylliben.”

“I don’t know what you’re hiding,” the Mando says. “But I do believe you’re doing what you can for those kids.”

“That’s all that matters,” Anakin agrees, finally looking away from his... his son.

Mine, the greedy krayt in his chest whispers.

“When are you planning on going back to Coruscanta?”

“I’m not,” Anakin says, standing and looking the man head-on. Anakin’s taller than him. That’s usually useful. “I don’t know why, but the Force wants me to stay here, or at least with the Mandalorians.”

“You want me to believe that you support my cause?”

“I don’t know your cause,” Anakin admits. “But I don’t like Death Watch, and I know you don’t either. Nobody on Coruscant is going to know to miss me, and the Force is warning me away from trying to go back. Whatever it is that needs doing, I’m supposed to be doing it here.”

The man steps forward. “Anyone tell you who I am?”

“No.”

“I’m Jaster Mereel.”

Good for you, Anakin thinks, and doesn’t say. “I’m pretty sure you already know my name.”

“I do,” Mereel says. “Wanna tell me how a Knight with a seemingly valid ident card claims nobody will know to miss him?”

“No.”

Mereel doesn’t even blink. “Try that again.”

“It means exactly what I said,” Anakin says. “The ident card is real. My training and rank are earned and deserved and bestowed by protocol. All of it was done at the Temple in Coruscant, but if you phone up the Temple with my name and face, nobody will know who I am.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why,” Mereel grouses. “What’s stopping me from calling them up anyway and asking them to come fetch your hypothermic ass?”

“...the fact that I already offered to help you?” Anakin manages. “I... I did say that part, right? That I’d help?”

“What’s stopping you from wanting to go back? And don’t give me any of that ‘will of the force’ banthashit.”

“I broke the Code,” Anakain says. The words sit heavy in his mouth, but one of his violations is lesser than the other, and-- “I married, and we’re not supposed to do that. She’s... not around anymore, but it still stands that I did it.”

The Tuskens weigh on his mind, suddenly and intensely. He hasn’t thought about them in ages, has always pushed those memories down, down, down, but--

“And they won’t take you back?”

“They might,” Anakin admits. They probably would, with his full title and everything, especially if he told them about the future. “But they wouldn’t let me keep the kids.”

Understanding flickers. “Not allowed kids?”

“It’s not... technically against the code,” he hedges. “But they’d find out about my marriage while investigating my past--” maybe, he’s not sure what kind of investigation they’d justify for a complete stranger of a knight, especially to confirm the future, but if they had a psychometric so much as touch his saber or arm, once he gets those back, there’d be a risk, “--and after already breaking the code by marrying, they’d be far less willing to bend the rules about the babies.”

He doesn’t realize how likely the risk is until after he says it, because he’s just been focusing on staying alive and following the Force, but.. they’d want the kids in the creche. He’s broken the code enough that any investigation they set to prove he’s legitimately a Jedi Knight that isn’t recorded and isn’t in the system is going to uncover something through the Force. They might not let him keep his family.

“What are their names?”

“I already--”

“Jango kept his last name,” Mereel cuts him off. “Did yours?”

Anakin looks the man in the eye, and then attempts to cross his arms in response, to mirror the pose and hold his ground. Unfortunately, he’s forgotten that he’s only got the one arm, which is really kriffing irritating.

“I gave them my name,” he says. “They’ll know where they came from, but they are mine.”

Yeah, no shit they’ll know where they came from.

Mereel’s face twitches, but the man is unreadable in the Force. Still, there’s something in the air... “So, those names?”

“Sokanth and Ylliben Skywalker,” Anakin tells him. He spells it out when the droid asks. He assumes it’s just for the medical data their droids are collecting.

“How well can you fight without your laser sword?”

“You mean unarmed?” Anakin asks, and then smiles brightly and tauntingly and waves his empty sleeve around. Mereel does not appreciate the humor. “Pretty well, but I do better when I have the Force, and am not still recovering from hypothermia. And I’m a fair shot with a blaster, but no specialist.”

Mereel eyes him for a moment, and then nods. “One of my snipers is Force-Sensitive. Never was enough to get more than some basic training in mental shields and the control to not hurt herself, but when we mentioned bringing in a Jetii, someone asked her what she thought. Came by the room while you were unconscious and said she thought you felt sad, angry, and desperate... but that she had a good feeling about where you’d be going.”

“Sad, angry, and desperate?” Anakin repeats, a little offended.

“You act like a veteran, kid,” Mereel says. He shrugs. “Damn near everyone that goes through some kind of war has all that going on. S’normal. You got Kamira’s approval, though, and that means a damn sight more. Keep your secrets for now. We’ll get there eventually.”

No we won’t, Anakin thinks. Out loud, he asks, “So, how much of what kind of work would I have to do to borrow a ship to Tatooine and earn enough to free a slave girl?”

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Someone Else (I'm Still Right Here)

also on ao3

minor warning for Geralt coming on to Jask when he doesn't know who he is, but nothing comes from it. 

 They've hardly been in town long enough for anything to go wrong and yet, Jaskier finds his thoughts interrupted by banging on the door of their room. If it was Geralt, he would simply let himself in even if he didn't have his hands free to open the door properly, so it must be important. Jaskier rises from the bed, setting his lute aside with a sigh. He detests being interrupted while he's working for anything less than an emergency - and judging by the fact that the knock hasn't come again, this is hardly an emergency.

He saunters to the door, pulling it open to find the face of the innkeeper's wife staring back at him anxiously.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says, "it's your Witcher, sir. Something's happened and no one is... well, they're all afraid to get too close to him. They called in the healer from the next town, but-"

Jaskier frowns. The contract was for a pair of drowners, not even a nest of the damn things. Geralt could have taken them out in his sleep - so what went so terribly wrong?

Jaskier lets himself be led downstairs, doing his best to mask worry with intrigue, but it isn't working. The innkeeper's wife leads him to the edge of the forest where her husband is waiting, a look of pained concern on his face. Jaskier's stomach drops as the man just points into the trees, and he hurries forward without delay. If the people in town won't help Geralt, he will certainly do his best.

When he finds him, Geralt is in a bad state. His eyes are still dark from the potions - probably why the locals wouldn't come near - and there's blood streaked down the side of his face.

Jaskier stays quiet. It's bad enough that Geralt can hear his pulse racing, he doesn't need to make his fear any more obvious to him. He kneels down on the soft ground, assessing the damage before moving him. He's learned from experience that one wrong move can make a wound worse rather than better.

"Okay," he says once he's satisfied. "I'm just gonna pull this off," he taps on Geralt's left pauldron, "make sure your head is the only thing you banged up." Jaskier frowns as he says it, but Geralt seems, as usual, unconcerned. He's much better behaved than usual though, which strikes Jaskier as being particularly odd.

He ignores it and pushes through, tearing an already ripped piece of Geralt's shirt to wipe away some of the blood. Geralt will be grouchy about it later, but if Jaskier replaces it, he can't be too angry. He does his best to clean Geralt's skin and he finds just the one injury - a hefty blow to the head. Not that it seems to be bothering Geralt any.

But when Jaskier cups his jaw, tipping his head to one side, Geralt hums. It catches him off guard and Jaskier jerks back to look at him.

"Your hands feel nice," Geralt breathes and leans into the touch. Okay. So maybe the head injury is more serious than it appears. The innkeeper's wife said a healer was coming, Jaskier will mention it to them when they arrive. Or maybe it's just the blood loss. Either way, the healer will be better prepared to deal with it than he is.

"What are you doing here?" Geralt asks.

"The innkeeper's wife came to collect me. Figured someone ought to come and collect you."

"No one else would even get near me."

"Yes, well, I'm not everyone else, am I?"

"Hmm. Guess not."

Jaskier comes around to look at him, straddling his thighs and Geralt leans forward, resting his head on his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck.

"Yes yes," Jaskier hums, "I know you're tired, darling, but we have to get you up and back to town."

Geralt is reluctant, but he lets himself be hauled to his feet and doesn't even complain about Jaskier propping him up as they make their way back toward town. He's quiet, which is to be expected, but Jaskier is worried that he's keeping something from him, that he's worse off than he seems because Geralt seems quite happy to let himself be assisted - something he would regularly fight against.

As they make it back to the inn, Jaskier knows everyone is watching them and he scolds a couple of them for not offering to help when a man was injured. He takes Geralt up to their room and ducks out from under his arm, leaving him alone for a moment so he can get the fire lit and ready the bed for him. But before he can do either, he finds himself pressed up against the room door with Geralt's face mere inches from his own.

The dark veins and darker eyes are… sexier than they have any right to be and Jaskier swallows back a groan, pressing a gentle hand to Geralt's chest. The Witcher is still woozy and unsteady on his feet, but he resists being pressed back and Jaskier frowns at him.

"Mm, as much fun as this is, I doubt you'll think so highly of me in the morning, darling." Geralt smiles slyly and, for a split second, Jaskier worries that he's become Geralt's quarry, that the toxins running through Geralt's body are really as bad as he always claims they are and that he is, in fact, in real danger around him. But then Geralt leans in, bumping his nose against Jaskier's and any thoughts of fear dissipate immediately.

Instead, Jaskier ducks down and away, holding both arms out as Geralt follows him.

"Geralt," he asks, "what's gotten into you? Not that I mind, but-" he eyes him carefully and Geralt just grins at him again.

"Don't be coy with me, bard, this is what you brought me here for."

"Um. No? I brought you here to rest, to put you to bed not take you to bed, and find you something to eat. This is our room, Geralt, not my room. They only had one left and I didn't think you'd mind-"

"Our room?" Geralt interrupts and Jaskier nods. Worry creeps in and he looks closely at Geralt. His eyes are black still, though the veins are retreating and he seems brighter than usual, not so gloomy.

"Yes?"

"Why would we be sharing a room," Geralt huffs, "I've only just met you."

Jaskier gawks at him. It's not like Geralt to play games, that's Lambert's area of expertise - and this is stupid and obvious even for Lambert's tastes. But something is off about Geralt tonight. The worry turns to fear and Jaskier suddenly wonders if the man he's brought back is his Witcher at all.

He's never met a doppler, but he's heard Geralt tell stories about them. For the most part, they're harmless, but Jaskier suspects they can be paid or bribed like anyone else and the thought of a stranger here in the room with his things, with Geralt's things-

"I thought you wanted sex," maybe-Gealt says again, slightly confused but not at all dissuaded. Normally Jaskier would take it as a compliment that he was still so enthusiastic about fucking him, but this feels very, very wrong. And yet a part of him still considers it.

If it is a doppler, there's no harm really. He's consenting and Jaskier is more than happy to fuck a man with Geralt's face (he doesn't think too much about how that will affect him after it's fine). Right? But there's still a nagging feeling that this isn't a doppler. He'd know, he thinks, if he brought someone else home with him.

"Can you just-" he says, backing up toward the bed where his bag is sitting on the floor. Maybe-Geralt just watches him with confusion as he crouches down and pulls his dagger from his pack.

It's just a little thing, but it's pure silver, gifted to him by Geralt in case of emergency.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Jaskier says, holding it out, "I just need you to touch this."

Maybe-Geralt gives him a questioning look but reaches out and takes the dagger from him, turning it over in his hand. Nothing happens.

"Hmm," he says, "nice weight, well made. A little decorative maybe-"

"Doesn't hurt?" Jaskier asks and maybe-Geralt, who is seeming more and more like just Geralt laughs.

"Not unless you stab someone with it."

Jaskier valiantly ignores the little smirk and shuts his eyes.

"Okay," he says, "start at the beginning, what do you remember?"

"I… woke up in the forest and then you showed up," he smiles at him and Jaskier is already preparing a refusal.

"Listen, Geralt, I am your friend and you would probably even argue that-"

"How come? You're very handsome and you've been helpful and kind-"

"But it's not like that, Geralt. It never has been. I offered once and you were… less than impressed with me." Geralt says nothing and Jaskier takes the opportunity to reign the conversation in. "Can I clean you up now? Something is obviously wrong and we have to get you to a doctor."

"They said a healer was coming."

"I was thinking of someone a little more professional," Jaskier says and Geralt gives him a look. "We have a mutual friend who may be able to help. But for now, you've got me and I'd like to take a look at that wound."

Geralt relents and Jaskier finally succeeds in getting him sat on the bed without Geralt trying to come on to him again. He pulls Geralt's hair back and ties it out of his face, it'll need to be washed later, but he's not going to try and explain how it's fine for him to wash his hair but not fuck him right now.

The wound itself it's so bad, a bit swollen, a bit bruised, but the actual gash is small and very manageable. He cleans it first with water and then with vodka and applies a good amount of salve. He doesn't know which herbs Geralt combines for a poultice, so he bypasses that for the time being; when he gets him to Shani if the wound isn't healed on its own, she'll be able to tend to it.

He finds linen wrap at the bottom of his bag and presses it to Geralt's forehead, gently wrapping it around and tying it at his temple.

"Should be good for now. I'll go down and have supper brought up. Do you want a bath?"

"No. Thank you."

"Alright. Just… stay here, I'll be back."

As soon as the bedroom door is shut, Jaskier closes his eyes, but he waits until he reaches the main floor to lean against the wall and sigh. He has no idea what he's going to do. He never thought he'd be sad to see the day Geralt tried to get him into bed, but it feels so wrong. He'd rather spend the rest of his life failing to impress Geralt than spend another five minutes with him like this.

He takes his time ordering food, half-hoping that Geralt will be asleep by the time he gets back to the room, but their supper is ready quickly and Jaskier reluctantly takes it back up to their room, setting the tray on the table beside the bed.

Geralt at least spares him conversation while they eat and then Jaskier sets the dishes aside and strips out of his clothes for bed, already dreading having to share a bed. He keeps his shorts on and waits until Geralt is already in bed before climbing in after him.

The fire is burning low already, so he's not worried about it, but he blows out the candle beside the bed and pulls the blankets up over himself. He faces out into the room, preferring not to see Geralt right now. It feels weird to want to avoid him and it makes his chest ache because this is Geralt, but it's not. He just wants his Geralt back.

He shuts his eyes and tries to sleep but Geralt is cuddly like this, shifting closer and pressing up against him. He gets an arm around Jaskier's waist and Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut. It's everything he thinks about during the long nights sleeping around a campfire, but he can't let himself give into it. But it feels good because it's Geralt's arm around him, Geralt's chest pressed to his back, Geralt's breath against his neck. He very nearly whines because it's so damn unfair.

But then Geralt's lips press against the back of his neck and a little gasp escapes his lips, unintentionally. He ignores it the first time, but then he does it again and when he shifts closer, Jaskier can feel the length of his cock pressing against his ass. And fuck, that's hard to turn down, but Jaskier wrenches himself out of Geralt's arms.

"I can't," he whispers, unconvincing even to himself.

"You want it, though," Geralt hums, "I can smell it on you."

"Maybe," Jaskier confesses, "but not like this. Not when you don't know who I am. Not when fucking any other person in this place would be the same for you. I can't, Geralt. Go to sleep."

Jaskier hates how disappointed Geralt sounds when he pulls away, but he doesn't try again and Jaskier almost finds himself wishing he would. He tugs the blanket a little tighter around himself and pulls his knees to his chest, trying to force back the fear that he might not get his Geralt back.

In the morning, Geralt wakes first and Jaskier is relieved to find himself alone in bed, although he worries about where Geralt has gotten to. But when he drags himself out of bed, he finds Geralt packed and ready to go with a hearty breakfast waiting for him.

"What's all this?" Jaskier asks, "trying to get away from me all of a sudden?" It comes out more bitter than he intends and he winces at the tone of his own voice.

"You were so sad, last night," Geralt says quietly. "I don't know how to fix this, how to remember you, but I thought you'd want to get started early. I had breakfast brought up." He offers a soft smile, gesturing to the food and Jaskier's heart flip-flops.

"Oh. Thank you."

"I've eaten. Take your time and we can leave when you're finished."

"Right."

Geralt just sits on the bed while Jaskier eats his breakfast and contemplates the fact that this is still his Geralt, as much as it doesn't seem like it. His own things are still ready to go and he has no idea who to go to to collect the reward for the drowners, but it couldn't have been much anyway, so he's not worried about it. Geralt won't be pleased about it when he remembers himself, but there's only so much Jaskier knows how to handle and he wants to get Geralt to Shani as quickly as possible.

They head out mid-morning, and Geralt insists on letting Jaskier ride, which is… nice, in a concerning way. Roach is equally confused and concerned, but Jaskier does his best to comfort her. Thankfully, they aren't far from Oxenfurt or Jaskier isn't sure how he would cope.

Geralt walks alongside him, happy enough apparently to let Jaskier ride. He hums as they travel, a low wonderful sound that had Jaskier's heart fluttering, but it tears him in two because the song is his which means Geralt does remember something, but he's also so sad to see him this calm and relaxed knowing his goal is to take that away from him.

For now, he won't say anything, will just let Geralt enjoy the journey. When and if they find a way to get his memory back, he'll explain everything and give Geralt the chance to decline if he wishes. The selfish part of him hopes he doesn't.

They carry on in much the same way, but even when Geralt talks, Jaskier struggles to find it in himself to be too enthusiastic about anything. He's already in a difficult spot and he just wants to get through this, whatever the outcome. But it's obvious Geralt notices and that he's trying to distract him from it.

Jaskier tries to cheer up a little, if only for him, but he finds it difficult because he knows Geralt can tell how he's really feeling. But Jaskier appreciates the effort, either way.

"Remind me where we're going?" Geralt asks and Jaskier realizes he hasn't told him, Geralt just trusted him not to be leading him towards certain death.

"To Oxenfurt," he says, trying to sound cheerful, "it's one of my favourite places on the continent. I have a friend who practices medicine, she should be able to help."

"You don't have to pretend for me. I know you're sad, I know you miss him. Me. I wish I could give you your friend back."

Jaskier's heart clenches and he takes a steadying breath. "I'm fine," he says, "and I can't miss him, he's you and you're right here." He feels odd, like he's talking to a child, but Geralt just smiles at him, softly but like he doesn't believe him. Jaskier wouldn't either, he's never been good at lying to Geralt.

There's a heavy silence that falls after that and for some time they continue forward unspeaking. Jaskier twitches to feel the silence, to sing or talk to something just to keep from thinking that Geralt is upset with him. Then, abruptly, Geralt speaks.

"What kind of man am I?" Jaskier doesn't even have to think to answer that.

"You're kind," he says, "more than anyone gives you credit for. You always try to take the less violent route, even though your job is to kill monsters. You're generous and loving and you care so deeply for your friends and family."

He pauses for a moment, swallowing a lump in his throat. Because he's not included in that group. He knows Geralt must care for him, but not in the way he loves Eskel or Lambert, or even in the way his friendship with Shani or Zoltan comes so easily to him. Next to him, Geralt is silent for a moment and then.

"Jaskier are you-" Jaskier shuts his eyes, dreading whatever is coming next. "Do you love me?"

"Of course I do," he says, forcing cheeriness into his voice, "You're my best friend."

"But it's more than that, isn't it?"

"Geralt-"

"I know I don't really know you, but I… think I love you, too."

"Geralt, don't say that," Jaskier shuts his eyes tightly, "you can't know that."

"I feel it."

Jaskier wants to scream. It's so unfair to hear those words from Geralt's mouth and know they’re not true. He pushes Roach a little quicker forward, but Geralt stops him.

Roach comes to a full stop and Jaskier grows frowns at Geralt as he comes to stand next to him. Geralt raised a hand up, cupping his jaw and guiding him downward.

"I feel like you won't hear it from me again, so I love you." He's soft, almost breathless, and when he stretches up to kiss him, Jaskier doesn't stop him.

It's just soft, no urgency, no want for something more than just a kiss and Jaskier can't help but lean into it just a little. Because those are Geralt's hands on him, Geralt's mouth against his own, soft and slow.

But Geralt moans softly against him and Jaskier remembers himself with a start. He pulls back from the Witcher, almost unseating himself, but Geralt steadies him.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, "I can't, it's not fair-"

"To me?" Geralt asks and there's sadness behind the humour in his voice.

"Yes."

After that, they spend the rest of the day in silence and Jaskier feels bad for Geralt - he can't imagine losing his memory and not knowing who he is - but he can't stand the fruitless hope. Because Geralt doesn't love him, he's made it known that they're not friends and how could Jaskier hope for more when he can't even attain friendship?

Then again, the man walking next to him now still is Geralt. He doesn't feel like Geralt and he doesn't act like Geralt, but he is. Jaskier isn't sure how people usually react when they lose their memories, so he doesn't have a basis to judge by, but it is still Geralt.

When they stop for the night, Geralt sleeps close enough to keep him warm but doesn't cuddle up like he did the night before and Jaskier hates himself for it. Maybe Geralt has a chance here at a new life, one where he can be happy and not weighed down by the memory of his childhood. And if he does, if he wants it, who is Jaskier to deny him that?

He's not sure he could be a part of it, though. Even thinking about him now, wishing Geralt would come a little closer, curl an arm around his middle, he feels like he's betraying his friend, betraying the old Geralt as the case may be.

Either way, he'll get Geralt to Oxenfurt so they can speak to Shani and see if there's anything that can be done. If there's not, he doesn't have to worry about making the decision to leave or stay, but if there is- If there is a chance Geralt can regain his memories, Jaskier has to let him make that choice alone and then make his own depending on what Geralt wants.

They reach Oxenfurt a few days later after what feels like a month-long journey and Jaskier is just glad to be somewhere warm where he can have his own room and not have to worry about wanting to be close. He leads them immediately to the inn and rents two separate rooms. It's fairly costly and he's reminded of the reason they needed to take the last contract, but he could be in Oxenfurt for a while depending on how this goes and he'll be able to pick up work easily enough.

Jaskier heads up to his room and makes sure Geralt gets settled, then he heads down and orders food and a bath up to Geralt's room before heading out to find Shani.

The first place he looks is the hospital, but the nurse working informs him that Shani has her own clinic now and she's located near the centre of town. Jaskier thanks her and doubles back, following the directions she'd given. Shani's clinic is tucked between two other buildings and Jaskier knocks before entering. There's no one inside but it's only a moment before Shani emerges from a back room, the neutral look on her face quickly growing into a smile. When Jaskier doesn't return the gesture she frowns.

"I take it this isn't a personal visit," she says and Jaskier can feel something inside him slip. He shakes his head.

"No, I'm sorry. I- we need your help."

"Geralt?" she asks and the last bit of his self-control gives way and he chokes on a sob. "Hey," she says, "come sit down."

Shani guides him to a back room and sits him down on a plush soft, surprisingly nice for a medical clinic. She shuts and locks the door behind them and sits next to him.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Geralt," he chokes, "hes'-" he takes a deep breath, swallowing back another sob. "Shani, he doesn't know who he is. He doesn't know who I am."

"Oh. What happened?"

"I wasn't there. I just- they came to get me because no one else would get near him. It was just supposed to be a drowner contract but he got hit in the head or something. I don't know what to do."

"Where is he now?"

"Back at the inn."

"Here?" she asks. Jaskier nods. "Why don't you take me to him, I'll take a look."

"I- I don't know if he'll want to be fixed? He came with me but Shani, he seems happy."

"Why don't we go and see him first. We'll figure out what's wrong before worrying too much, hm?" Jaskier agrees and Shani packs a bag and they head for the inn.

They find Geralt in his room, having eaten and bathed and he looks good. He's got his hair down around his shoulders and he's shirtless and Jaskier has to avert his eyes. He takes a seat in the corner and lets Shani introduce herself and asks to look him over. Jaskier stays quiet and watches cautiously as Geralt easily lets Shani look him over. Once she's finished with his body, she examines his head.

"Well," she says at last, "you obviously took a pretty hefty blow to your head, but the good news is it should be simple to reverse the memory loss."

"Good," Geralt says quickly. He spares a glance for Jaskier before turning back to Shani. "What do we have to do?"

"It's simple really, just a shock to your system should do it. I have a friend who can help."

As Shani goes into the details, Jaskier tunes out. He hears something about neurons, but he's more concerned about getting Geralt alone for a couple of minutes before he makes a decision. He loves Geralt, wants nothing more than for him to be happy, so he wants him to go into this knowing everything Jaskier can tell him.

"Can we have a moment Shani?" he asks and Geralt looks at him as Shani nods and ducks out of the room.

"You want to do it?" Jaskier asks and Geralt nods.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You're happier like this," Jaskier whispers, "Geralt, I've never seen you this relaxed. In twenty years, you've always been miserable. I just- I want you to make an informed decision."

"You say you want me to be happy," Geralt says, "but since I told you I didn't know who you were you've been so sad. How is it fair for me to be happy like you say when you're still suffering." He tips Jaskier's chin up with two fingers and looks into his eyes. "What I said before, I wasn't lying. I don't know where all these feelings are coming from but I know you are so important to me."

He pulls up a smile and Jaskier knows how this is going to end. And he'll be happy to have his Geralt back, but know him like this? To know this Geralt wants him, even in some weird, imaginary way? He doesn't know how he'll be able to continue.

"Okay," Jaskier relents. "I just… wanted you to know what you were getting into."

"I'm sure it can't be all bad. I have you."

Jaskier's heart clenches, but he doesn't get another chance to speak because Shani enters the room. Thankfully, Geralt has stopped touching him, but he's still close and she gives Jaskier a look.

"I put out a call to my friend," she says, holding up a box that looks vaguely familiar. "Xenovox," she explains, "Marilla is a mage. She should be here in the morning."

It's late afternoon now, so that means spending another night at the inn and Jaskier is torn. On the one hand, he wants Geralt to be back to normal, but on the other- he's selfish and he wants Geralt like this. He wants so badly to have anything and- no. No, he can't.

Shani leaves them shortly after assuring Jaskier that it will be alright, that Geralt will be fine. He wishes these were better circumstances, that they had come to visit Shani instead of asking for her help, but she waves him off with a smile.

"Come and visit when things are back to normal," she says, "I'll see you in the morning."

Jaskier sees her off and then returns to the room to find Geralt sitting on the edge of the bed, contemplating. He's still shirtless and Jaskier finds it hard to look at him directly. He sits in the bed next to him, hands folded in his lap.

"Well," Geralt says, "we have the night. Things will be different after I get my memory back, right?" He turns, reaching out to cup Jaskier's cheek. "Be with me tonight," he breathes, "just for tonight, let me take care of you while I have the chance."

Jaskier huffs a humourless laugh. "That's the problem, you always have the chance, but you never want to take it."

"Then let me now," he hums and his hand falls to Jaskier's thigh.

And it's so tempting. Because Geralt is right here offering everything he's ever wanted, if only for a night. But this is not the Geralt he fell in love with. This is not truly his Geralt's consent. When Jaskier looks up, it's obvious that Geralt knows his answer before he even speaks.

"I'm an idiot," he says softly, "to not jump at the chance to be with you. If I don't remember tomorrow, I want you to know you're important to me." Jaskier nods weakly, but he can't find the words. "Maybe we should turn in early? We have a long day tomorrow, I think."

Jaskier nods and he lets Geralt pull him down to the bed and tonight, he lets himself be held, curls into Geralt's hold and presses his nose into his neck. He doesn't let himself think, just buries himself in Geralt's scent, so warm and familiar and shuts off his mind.

Jaskier awakes to a knock on the door and realizes he's still in his clothes from yesterday. Geralt answers the door to Shani and Marilla, and Jaskier is only just climbing out of bed when they come into the room. He gets a look from Shani, but if she's feeling any particular kind of way about finding him in Geralt's bed, she doesn't say anything.

The actual process doesn't take any time at all. Marilla comes in and does something to Geralt, what she does is unclear but he falls unconscious and Jaskier panics at first, but Shani holds him back.

"Sorry," she says, "I should have warned you."

Jaskier does his best to make Geralt comfortable in the bed and he leaves with the two women to let him sleep. He thanks Marilla desperately and asks her to stay until he wakes, but she tells him she has other business to attend to and after dipping down to kiss Shani briefly, she disappears down the stairs.

"Friend, huh?" Jaskier asks and Shani smiles at him.

"Don't try to change the subject."

"Actually, can I ask you about something?"

"Of course. Why don't we get a drink, he could be out for a couple of hours."

They head down to the common area and Shani orders them a pair of drinks while Jaskier finds a table out of the way. He's never understood why Geralt likes corner tables, but right now he gets it. He doesn't want anyone to talk to him and he just wants to be able to sit and drink with Shani.

When she returns, she slides his drink across to him and slips into her seat.

"What did you want to ask about?"

"Uh," Jaskier starts, turning his mug in his hands, "when I first took Geralt back to our room, just after he was hurt. He tried to kiss me. He… thought I was bringing him back there to fuck him."

"Oh."

"You don't sound surprised."

"I'm not, really. I'm surprised he acted on it, but-"

"What does that mean?"

"Geralt doesn't have any brain damage," Shani explains, "something just… got knocked loose, so to speak. He was still him, Jaskier. His thoughts, his feelings? That was all him, Jask."

"You're telling me-" abruptly, the memory of Geralt telling him he loved him comes back to him and his mouth goes dry. "You're telling me that was just him?"

"Mmhm. Without all the baggage and self-loathing."

"I don't- he can't- if he wanted me that way, I would know."

"Would you?" Shani asks, "because I think you would be the last person to know. Wait till he wakes up, talk to him."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, Shani, for this and for everything."

"Happy to help."

They finish their drinks and Shani heads home. Jaskier thanks her again and promises to visit when things are better and waits until she's gone before heading back up to Geralt's room.

The first thing Geralt knows when he wakes up, is a pain in his head. He blinks awake to find himself in a bed in a nondescript inn. A better look around finds Jaskier asleep in a chair next to him, but he stirs as Geralt sits up and then he's scrambling to pass Geralt a mug of water.

He feels woozy, but Jaskier's presence soothes him; he knows from experience that Jaskier would never let anything happen to him and is willing to risk his own health and safety to assure it. There's no one else he'd rather see upon waking. But he doesn't remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembers is taking a hit and stumbling away from the scene.

"Geralt?" Jaskier asks gently. He looks up and the first thing he notices when he looks at Jaskier is how sad he is. The emotion wafts off of him, but Geralt doesn't need his heightened sense of smell to be able to tell.

"What's wrong?" he mumbles, his voice thick.

"Tell me what you remember. From the start."

Geralt thinks back, going through the events of the hunt, none of which are very interesting until he was thrown into a tree. Water hag, he remembers, chucked mud and blinded him. Then he's stumbling away, all three monsters dead and then- fuck.

His gaze snaps up to Jaskier's face, looking for any sign of recognition, but he remains eerily calm, even as Geralt recollects kissing him, pressing him up against a wall and- fuck, what was he thinking? The more he thinks about it, the more comes back to him, but in bits and pieces.

Kissing him, touching him, pressing up against him in bed. The memories are all foggy, scattered, but they feel too real to have been a dream. But Jaskier shows no signs of being assaulted by him.

"I'm-" he starts, but sorry doesn't feel like it's enough. Jaskier is open with his affections, but he wouldn't be okay with that.

Geralt tries to push himself up, to get out of bed and away from Jaskier because he can't stand the thought of doing something like that. He can't remember why he did, but the more he thinks about it, the more real it feels.

"Geralt," Jaskier says firmly, "I'm not mad. But I think we need to talk if you're up for it."

He doesn't want to talk to Jaskier. He would rather find out from someone else, he can't bear to hear the words from Jaskier. And he knows Shani was there. Shani and another woman who he didn't recognize.

"Where's Shani?" he asks.

"She's gone home, darling. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?"

Geralt looks up at him and he feels hopeless. Jaskier is exhausted, he can see the bags under his eyes, the dark circles. And he doesn't seem any less sad than he did initially. It doesn't take much to realize what happened.

"I'm sorry," Geralt mumbles, "about what I did- when I kissed you, I-"

Jaskier stops, already halfway toward the door and sighs deeply, stopping in his tracks before turning around.

"Okay," he says, "we're talking about this now, then." He comes back and seats himself on the end of the bed, facing him. "Tell me exactly what you remember, Geralt."

"I remember taking the contract, fighting off the drowners - and a water hag - got mud in my eyes, stumbled and something hit me, threw me into a tree. Probably one of the drowners pushed me. I took them out, started back toward town but I must have passed out, the next thing I remember is-"

"Me."

"Yeah. You took me back to our room, I thought you were- I thought you wanted sex."

"I know, you were fairly adamant about that."

"Fuck. Jaskier I'm sorry-"

"You didn't know who I was. If a handsome stranger took me back to his room, I'd think the same. When you didn't know who I was I was… terrified. I didn't know if I'd get you back." They're both silent for a moment and then Jaskier prompts him to continue.

"I remember that. I remember talking to you," he lowers his eyes, "I told you I loved you, I don't know why." Immediately Jaskier's sadness intensifies and he catches it in the twitch of his lip, the way he glances away.

"You asked if I was in love with you," Jaskier explains, "and told me you loved me. What else do you remember?"

"I remember asking you to- suggesting we- I propositioned you. And I remember being in bed- Jaskier, did we-?" He can't imagine anything worse than sleeping with Jaskier while he's not himself, than having the chance to be with him and not truly being present in the moment.

Because he certainly won't have another chance, especially not now that he's gone and muddled things up.

"No," Jaskier confirms and for the first time a small smile tugs at his lips, "not that you didn't try. But It didn't feel right. I knew when you had your memories back, you'd hate me for it and I couldn't-"

"I could never hate you," Geralt interrupts, "if anything I'd hate myself for pushing you into it."

"No," Jaskier says, shaking his head, "Geralt you don't understand. I wanted to. I wanted so badly to just say yes last night when you asked me. I tried to work it around in some way that you wouldn't hate me for taking advantage, but every time I just feel terrible to even think about it. The reason I didn't sleep with you is because I couldn't bear the thought of fucking you when it wasn't really you. Because I didn't want him, even if he was you. I wanted- I want this you."

"You do," Geralt snorts, "someone who throws himself at his friend because he doesn't remember, someone who tells him he loves him unprompted-"

"Do you think," Jaskier suggests, and it's clear by the look on his face that he's considering his words very carefully. "That maybe what you said to me and what you did- what you offered," he corrects quickly, "was because you do have feelings for me?" His voice shakes just faintly and Geralt can smell the anxiousness coming off of him.

It's cloying, overwhelming and it mingles with the scent of sadness and fear and just the faintest hint of something hopeful.

"It's just that Shani said there was nothing wrong with your mind, it was still you in there when you asked, when you said that." Jaskier looks up at him and Geralt feels years of emotion welling up inside him and he doesn't know how to hold it back any longer, not what Jaskier is asking him outright.

"Jaskier, I-" he takes a deep breath, focuses on a mark on the blanket between them. "I don't remember everything. But I did mean what I said. I do… I love you," he whispers, "I didn't want you to think less of me or," he glances up and Jaskier's eyes are shiny like he's trying not to cry. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to find out like this."

"I'm not sad," Jaskier says, "Geralt, I have been following you around for half my life, caring for you, singing about you and you didn't think for maybe a moment that I could love you back?"

"You-" Geralt stumbles over his words as Jaskier's confession sinks in. "You sleep with everyone. Everyone but-"

"You don't even call me friend, Geralt. Why would I try and take you to bed with me thinking you don't care enough to call me your friend?"

"Oh."

"Oh? You didn't consider that?"

"You're not my friend," Geralt says, by way of explanation, "but you're not a lover, either. You're not a brother. Not a comrade. I don't know what you are."

"Oh."

"But you could be… a lover?" the word feels strangely heavy in his mouth and he nearly regrets saying it at all until he sees the way Jaskier's eyes light up. A smile tugs at Geralt's lips and he leans forward, reaching out to take Jaskier's hand, tentatively turning it over.

"Jaskier," he whispers, "can I kiss you?" A wide grin spreads across his face and Jaskier tips forward toward him.

"Darling, I thought you'd never ask."

[inviouswriting]

Family with you

Simeon x fem!reader

Some light smuts mixed in, but mostly fluff. Nothing graphic but enough to be cut.

If mc was already a mother when arriving to Devildom with their child. Needed something for myself too. 

TW: for reasoning behind the father figure not in as a result of them leaving, or uninterested. Abandoning mc. 

When you had first arrived at Devildom, the others were surprised to the child with you. Looking no older than between five to seven and hiding behind you. Lucifer was first to be taken aback by this exchange, and Diavolo immediately is dropping down to say hello.

Things progressed as they normally did afterwards. You had a stronger backbone when it came to threats and reminded the demons that you’ll have their horns and wings if anything happened to your child. 

You are single, and comforted your child as best as you can in a world full of demons. Diavolo set up a special way for your child to be cared for while you attended RAD. Spending time with Barbatos, to learn from him rather than be around all the chaos.

When you met Simeon, it was like something clicked between you two. Barbatos had brought your child to you at the end of the day, and Simeon is already enamored by them. His eyes shined at seeing them, and you feel trusting of the angel. Luke sees a potential friend, close in age, able to relax, though he felt more like an older brother figure. 

“Why not visit us a little more?” Simeon offers, and you take him up on the offer for any peace and quiet from House of Lamentations. A steady relationship bloomed between you and Simeon. Alot of the time spent guiding both Luke and your child in the right directions.

When Simeon asked how your child came to be, you felt your face hot at mentioning everything prior to Devildom, whether a joyful one or a unpleasant. Your child was someone you never regretted, even out of wedlock. 

Simeon understood the question he asked was personal, and remembered how it sounded from an angel.

“I mean genuinely, I am not asking you or putting you under a confessional. I am just curious, do you have anyone in your life... in the human world?” You see the dusting of pink on his face, and it clicks for you.

“No, they’re not in the picture anymore.” At your words Simeon takes your hands into his own, realizing he has a full chance. 

“Would you go on some dates with me then?” You are surprised at this, and want to say yes, but your eyes drift to your child playing a game with Luke. 

“I’d love to, but who would watch them?” You haven’t quite trusted the brothers, the closest one you feel you could is Beelzebub, and Asmodeus. 

“I think Barbatos can, he does enjoy both Luke and your child. I’m sure it would be fine to escape for an evening.” He offers solutions, and you agree to a date.  Agreeing was easier than the actual planning.

The night arrived, and you are dressed nicer than you normally are. Asmodeus being supportive and helped with an outfit that accents a Ristorante Six date. Simeon took care of arranging Luke and your child to be with Barbatos to learn how to cook some things together.

All that was needed was you, so Simeon met you at the restaurant. When he first saw you, he thought you really are an angel in disguise. Once inside, you talk about your life prior to Devildom, him learning more about the things you’ve gone through to raise this child, the hardships you’ve faced and he feels more protective of the idea of being with you.

Simeon walked with you for hours afterwards, you went back to House of Lamentations to drop off food you had leftovers from to Beelzebub. Promising him at least a dessert. The rest of the evening was spent walking through the city portion with Simeon. Getting to know him, his ranking as an angel, how he is raising Luke almost as a child of his own.

“More like grandson.” He amuses aloud, and you gently poke his sides. A moment is stilled between you and he takes his first kiss with you overlooking the Devildom.

After that first date, many more were had, till you are sure you are inseparable to Simeon as much as your child is so fond of Luke. 

When you became so entangled in your angels life and him in yours. You find yourself yearning for the love you two have made. Seeing him fall head over heels with your child, you laugh at moments when he is tender and gentle teaching them different ways. 

There have been only a few fights, only when it came to how you chose to raise your child. A little more firmness than Simeon letting Luke have free reign to learn from his own mistakes. You still had a role as a mother, and reminded Simeon that it works for him, but not for you in some aspects. You reminded your child of boundaries whenever Luke showed discomfort in sharing something.

After an evening of sharing insecurities with Simeon, explaining how hard it has been being alone. He runs his hands through your hair to remind you, you are not alone anymore. You question if he finds you attractive, the hour late, and you both knew Luke and your child sound asleep.

Simeon expresses his desires in you, even when you shyly bared yourself to him, he graciously kissed any marks left on your body from carrying those years ago. Didn’t care of your breasts were a little uneven, or what others have said as a “mom” body. Whether you were skinny or you never lost the weight, belly that sagged or didn’t look right to yourself.

“This is the result of the miracle you have brought into the world. And you are far more beautiful than you realize.” Simeon looks over every spot of you, blue eyes curious to the scars he may see, whether you had a rough pregnancy, or the scars left to save you both. He leaves no spot unkissed, letting you feel truly seen and loved more than the first time a man took interest only to leave later on.

Simeon sees the faint hurt in your eyes when it is reflected after kissing a spot that flared a memory. He replaces that memory with his own touch, reminding you that he loves you even as he loves you till you are clutching his bedsheets or pillows.

In the morning you feel wonderful, renewed and shy as those dark arms are wound around you possessively. Simeon not wanting to let go of you yet, your eyes being greeted to his face first thing, blue eyes meeting yours. 

You tease each other, tease long enough that Simeon coaxes you into a softer session with him in the shower together. Where he holds you up against the wall and any of those smut novels never compared to the things an angel has done to you.

When you broke the news to both Luke and your child about your relationship, Luke is surprised and almost unsure, questioning Simeon about whether he wants to risk his job as an angel. Simeon refutes this with.

“There are no risks involved, I’m in love.” You realize he could lose his wings.. you don’t want to make him choose. Your child on the other hand looks at Simeon with love in them. That an angel could literally be their father.

“Does this mean you’ll get married?” The thought crosses your mind with Simeon glancing to you, perhaps hopeful of your thoughts on the idea.

“It might mean that, if he wants to be.” You feel a squeeze in your hand from Simeon, and you catch his gaze. He is successful in the things he does, and he shines unique as an angel.

“I would love that. To have a family with you. Perhaps once we are in the human world?” Simeon asks, and you nod to make that a goal. 

The path to marriage was longer, going through so much, that the evening when Simeon actually asks you to marry him, you thought he was joking. It was on his birthday, and you had spent the day with him. Luke and your child set up a pleasant surprise for you both, getting Barbatos and Diavolo in on this unique exchange.

“Of course!” You are happy to no end and Simeon is relieved. The ceremony is held on the spot, as a more private exchange. The brothers agreed once you had chosen Simeon solely.

It isn’t until you were given a honeymoon to Diavolo’s private island that the need for your angel was truly awakened. Spending almost every day with him and night finding out just how much Simeon wanted you more than you realized. You wondered how much he held back from the first time you were together. 

Soon you settle into a routine with the new life with Simeon. That it surprised you when you found out you are pregnant again. Fear rises in you, as this was the scenario you had the first time. Perfectly happy, then it came crashing down when the other half didn’t want to be involved.

So you hide it from Simeon, for now. You wanted to wait before you told him, to see if your body could handle another. It isn’t until you are lying down fatigued that Simeon catches on. His fingers are tender as they touch your stomach to sense life, giving you a firm stare for not telling him sooner.

“My love, how long have you known?” He questions, he is already pressing his face to say hi to the life forming. 

“Only a few weeks... I wanted to be sure that this one will stay.” Simeon looks up smiling, the intensity in his eyes fades.

“My lamb... how could you keep this wonderful secret from me.” Your hands card through dark brown hair, bright blue eyes peek up more framed by dark skin. He is over the moon and nuzzles his face into your belly. 

You smile and feel a little guilty he found out this way. You wanted to tell him, and see him full of joy instead of concern. Though his happy expression keeps you from spoiling him too much. You learn him and his ways of showing love, but this side of him. 

You are amazed at how much he dotes and loves you. Seeing the blush on his face realizing all those sleepless nights resulted in a life that is of you and him. That this brings you two closer than ever.

When Simeon looks up he sees your eyes brimming with tears and he freaks wondering if he did something wrong.

“Please don’t leave me...” You plead him, and he remembers that years ago that a child is the reason your first doesn’t have a father. Whether by them leaving, vanishing, or expressing unwanted. He sees the pain return to your eyes, the wound that he had spent so many times trying to mend to heal your heart.

Simeon moves to sit with you and cups your face into his hands as he presses loving kiss after kiss.

“Never will leave you. Not now, not ever.” You tremble in sobs at the shock still going through you of the fear settling in, that it “could” happen. He could grow tired, just like before. When things got tough and they just left. 

Simeon sees the hurt still, and it takes coaxing from him to get you to curl up into his side. His colder hands pressed to your forehead as a nausea wave hits you and you let go of all your fears and tell him you are afraid he will leave you.

He assures you, he is there permanently, he won’t leave, not unless you chase him out yourself. And that breaks you of your spell, the fear of pushing a literal angel away overwhelms you and you raise up to kiss him like you haven’t before.

You still had hours before Luke and your child would be home, you spend the next few hours entangled together. You and Simeon on the floor of the house you call home. His hands going over every speck of you, and kissing away your worries. He is surprised when you take initiative to ride him, and your love making with the angel is truly felt through every nerve that you hold onto each other tight.

When you woke up much later, Simeon is next to you in the bed you share, just watching your face serenely. Foreheads pressed together.

“What time is it?” You question him, and start to raise to look at a clock and Simeon guides you to lie down.

“Almost time to make dinner. We still have time before they’re back. Let me spend this time with you?” You look at him and lay your head back down next to his. He seeks out your left hand to rub at your wedding band, while his other hand presses over your belly. He’s more loving here than what he did hours ago, touches you with such tenderness that you feel your heart thudding in your chest.

You indulge Simeon as he presses loving kisses and you both discuss the possible baby names. Simeon ever grateful you choose to be with him and love him.

[dp-marvel94]

Dan Redemption with a twist

So I'm still geeking out over my ask that @stillebesat answered a few days ago, the one where about an upcoming fic. I've been playing around with a really similar idea, with a redeemed Dan fusing with a clone of Danny, for months now.

Here's my idea:

First of all, my preferred version of Dan is basically Danny but evil. He less fused with Plasmius and more consumed his powers so Dan doesn't have any of Vlad's memories. Next, I'm a big fan of the idea that Dan deeply regrets killing his human half and is, for lack of a better word, haunted by the action. It was the first death of his reign of terror, his final chance to turn back from the dark path he was on and...it was his suicide.

Now, Dan doesn't realize any of this for what feels like centuries. He's trapped in the Fenton thermos in Clockwork's lair, alone with only his thoughts. And the knowledge starts creeping in, all that he'd lost, all that he'd done. He realizes that he misses his friends and family and to his surprise, he hopes his younger self saved them. But then he realized that he tried to kill them. And the guilt starts creeping in. The regret follows and he remembers all the rest of his crimes. He doesn't have enough humanity, enough emotional capacity to be wrecked but he's no longer a rage fueled destructive monster.

Then to Dan's shook, Clockwork releases him without a word. The master of time dumps him in the new timeline, maybe a few months after the events of TUE. To his dim relief, Dan finds that his friends and family are all still alive. He watches them for a while, trying to process where he is and what happened. But then he runs into Danny. And things don't go well. It's a rocky start. Danny does not trust Dan at all. He doesn't trust that the older ghost has no intention of hurting his loved ones. Danny is ready and willing to fight and recapture him. The younger's opinion doesn't change until Dan saves him and Jazz during a ghost attack. The two ghosts, at Jazz's insistence, come to an uneasy impasse. Danny will leave Dan alone if the older ghost leaves him and his family alone. Dan isn't really happy about this arrangement but it's better than being trapped in the thermos again and he does have no intention of hurting his younger counterpart or his loved ones.

So Dan concedes. He stays out of Danny's way. He watches. He catches glimpses of his former friends and family from a distance. And it hurts. Dan feels out of place, disconnected. This isn't his time, isn't his place. He's stuck on the outside looking in... and this timeline already has a Danny, one who didn't make the aggresous mistakes he did. And those mistakes... the guilt's still there but like all other emotions, it's dim and distant. That's how it's been since his death, with every emotion but rage. But still, Dan does not like being on the outside looking in. He needs to do something else with himself, find some place he can belong.

Then Dan remembers Vlad. He had gone to the older half ghost after losing everything. And... Vlad had tried to help him. Separating the then halfa at his request had been a horrible idea but Vlad had been trying. Vlad did care about him. And.... the man must be so lonely now. Lonely like Dan himself is.

It's something of a wim but Dan goes to the older halfa. And at first, it's a surprise to Vlad and then seemingly a dream come true. Here in front of him is a version of Daniel who wants to stay by his side willingly. This Dan is more powerful and experienced than his younger counterpart, though not as experienced as Vlad. The young man is willing to be taught and all he seemingly wants is companionship. Yes, it would be a dream come true except...

Dan will not tolerate any of Vlad's shit. He will not be used to hurt anyone ever again. He will not take part in any of Vlad's schemes against the Fentons. It's a high price to pay but the older man backs off. Vlad is content to not be alone and have a chance to convince Dan to work with him.

So Dan stays with Vlad. With the older man busy with work, Dan has free reign of the mansion for most of the day. In some ways, it's nice. Away from Amity Park, there's no temptation to check on his former loved ones. His longing for a life he can no longer have is diminished. Vlad's mansion provides ample distraction, in the library, the game room, the gardens. But... the days are long and often lonely and the nights... they're even worse. The large building, empty and quiet, it's too much like a time Dan wishes he could forget. The memories are stronger now. After the fiery explosion...weeks of weeping in his room. Somber diners with Vlad where he couldn't force himself to eat. Waking up from another nightmare.

Without his humanity, the grief isn't as soul wrenching as it should be. But it's ever present, the memories on repeat. And there is little to break them up. As a ghost, Dan cannot sleep. He cannot eat. He can't truly feel the sun on his face or the comforting chill of the water on the pool. All physical sensations are dimmed.

And Dan starts to realize, it's excruciating. He feels incomplete, like there's a gapping whole in his chest. The memories of his own death, seen from the outside, return. His own icy blue eyes wide with fear and pain. Red blood spattered on his face. It's horrifying. Or it should be. If Dan could muster up more than the dimmest shadow of the emotion. But he can't, because the part of him that could died 10 years ago. And... this is wrong. He is wrong.

He should have died completely as himself, as Danny Fenton. He shouldn't have watched his death from the outside by his own hands. He shouldn't be this half being that couldn't even be bothered to die properly.

Dan stews, a forgotten anger growing as he longs for something he'd once wanted rid of. His human self, his Fenton, his humanity... he wants it. He wants to be truly, completely himself again. He wants to be whole enough to fade, to move on.

But that is the problem with ghosts, especially one like him. They do not change. They do not move on. As much as Dan acts like he is older, like he is different, he is not. He's the same angry, broken teen that he was ten years ago. And he will never be anything else.

Dan rages, trashing Vlad's training room. Soon enough, his anger is spent and the young man comes back to his senses. Dan huffs in frustration and annoyance at himself. He'd rather enjoyed Vlad's training room and now the man himself will likely be cross with him. Dan does his best to put the room back in order and find something else to do.

But the pain, regret, and longing linger. At some level, Dan thinks he's being ridiculous. All his former loved ones are alive. Dan isn't alone. He has Vlad and the ability to determine his own future. This world wasn't ravaged by his hand. His mistakes have been erased. He should be free. Except...

No, his mistakes are not all erased. His own death returns to his mind over and over. He shouldn't think about, he shouldn't dwell on it but...

One day, Dan goes down to Vlad's secret lab. He knows he shouldn't. This is such a breach of Vlad's trust but... this is were it happened. The young man stares at the metal table. If he was capable of feelings cold, he would shiver. There, where he was pulled out of his body. That wall, he cornered his human half there, the boy cowering in fear. There, that control panel was spattered with his own blood.

Dan wishes he could cry but he's not human enough for that. He's not human at all. But he wishes he was.

Startled by the thought, the full ghost turns away. He shouldn't wish for things he can't have but... no. Dan's eyes flicker around the room, looking for small differences from his memories. Some of the equipment is laid out differently. There are different samples on the shelf and... that door wasn't there before.

Dan walks through and finds... metal and glass chambers in different degrees of construction. A few are filled with ectoplasm and there in the back... if Dan had a heart, it would stop. There in a clear pod with a breathing mask over his face is...Danny Fenton. No, that's not right. This isn't... this isn't his timeline. And his younger counterpart is in Amity Park so....

Dan frantically searches Vlad's computer, his notes for answers. Clones. Vlad had been trying to clone his younger half ghost counterpart. In the tube... clone 3. Fully human. Suffered mental decline from 2 weeks gestation and eventually brain death a month later. Body kept alive by machines since... the week Dan arrived.

Dan wishes he could feel shock. He wishes he could feel relief. From the data, this was the first attempt that even resembled something human. The others were by all measures animals, in no way sentient. And it appears Vlad hasn't continued working since Dan came to live with him. But still...

Dan confronts Vlad, asking about the experiments, about the clone kept on life support.

"I could not bear to pull the plug." Vlad answers, surprisingly sober. "I'd hoped his condition would improve." There is a far away look in his eyes, a longing. "I tried everything I could think of to stop the degradation but..." The older half ghost shook his head. "I'm continuing to monitor 3's status." There was a pain in Vlad voice. "I fear he won't live to see the outside of his chamber."

Vlad was in denial, Dan thinkd. This clone is gone, like his own human half. The heart still beats, the lungs still breath but...

He shock his head. "Before you approach me, I consider...if I could create a viable, ghostly clone and coax the spirit to hybridize with the body..."

The idea was ridiculous and he should be disgusted, hearing all Vlad had done, what he had planned but...

"That is all in the past now." Vlad finished sadly.

All in the past like the loss of his own human half. He shouldn't wish for things that he couldn't have but...

"I'm a viable ghost..." Dan could barely believe the words coming out his mouth. "Not a clone but... I am without a human side."

Vlad is staring at him like he has another head, something which Dan was sure he did not currently have. "Daniel...are you suggesting... what I think you are suggesting?"

Was he? It was ridiculous, impossible. He could not replace his human side by... possessing an animated corpse.

"No. I am not." Dan denied. "Forget I said anything."

Vlad gave a nod, dropping the conversation. But Dan did not forget. This idea... it was wrong. It was impossible. He couldn't be made a half ghost again. But...

The temptation. If anyone could get it to work, it would be Vlad. And if it did...the ghost floats to what had been his bedroom and laid down. If it worked, he could sleep. He could eat. He could go out in public with human. It would necessarily be a replacement for what he'd lost but...

No... this was wrong. This was basically a clone of himself whose body he wanted to steal. But... was it really? This was an empty body, no mind, no soul. It was mad science but... Dan was already the product of mad science.

And if it worked, not as an overshadowing but a hybrization... he could truly age, he could grow passed what happened. And he could feel more than the pale shadows he could now.

The next day, Dan asks Vlad for what he wants.

"Are you sure?" The man asked. "This could have unknown consequences on your body or your mind. You could even destabilize."

That gave Dan pause. This might not work. He might end up in unknown pain or even fade but... "this is worth the risk."

The pair work together, planning and experimenting. They give the body transfusions of Dan's ectoplasm. The younger ghost practices envisioning himself as a halfa again. He prepares himself.

"I will need to reduce you down to your core." Vlafd says solemnly.

Dan places his existence in Vlad's hands. After blowing off seemingly endless amounts of energy in a desolate portion of the Ghost Zone, the older halfa repeatedly shocks him with the Plasmius Maximus. Dan's body pops out of existence, leaving his core exposed.

As just a core, there is no sensation. No input. No output. It's terrifyingly like being in the thermos again. Dan knows he is being moved. Vlad is doing something to him but... there is nothing and too much at the same time.

Dan can not process. He is cradled. There is something beside him, something around him reaching out. Something is changing. He is changing. It is too much. Dan loses consciousness for the first time in ten years. It is not sleep. There is no dream. He can think one moment, separated from the world. And the next...

He is under water. Something is beeping. He feels light but heavy. Cold but warm. His center is fluttering, something straining and pounding. An emotion. Something that might be panic or fear suddenly rises in him, crashing over him as a wave. An equally panicked voice comes from in front of him. Then there's a sting in his neck. Sting? Pain? Pain, it's been so long since he felt pain. And... his neck? He has a neck again. Dan blacks out again.

The young man comes to again. There is still something beeping near his head. He's not under water now but laying on something soft. Soft and warm. Warm....Dan can feel that. His breath hitches. Breath... he feels lungs move on his chest. And...he feel heavy and warm. Something... something happened. He can't remember what...

Dan's eyes flutter open, falling on... Vlad.

The man's eyes met his, relief flashing across them. "Daniel." He sighs. "How do you feel?"

"Feel?" Dan crocks. Is that... is that his voice? "What...what happened?" The ghost (?) thinks he might know. "Did it work?" He whispered.

Dan's voice... his voice is high, like when he was a younger teen. It should feel strange but...

"Take a look." Vlad says, offering him a mirror.

Dan reaches forward with a shaking hand. His hand... it's not gloved, neither is it blue. It's.... he stares. It's a pale peach color like... his hands are smaller and thinner....

"Daniel." Vlad interrupts. "It's alright." He holds the mirror up and...

Dan meets blue eyes. His own blue eyes. Eyes he never thought he'd see again except on someone else. His eyes water as he reaches towards the mirror. "It worked."

His new heart is aching, a thousand emotions hitting him. Joy, happiness, relief, grief, guilt, regret. All of them are bigger, nearer, more real and soul-aching than it's been in years. He should be upset. He looks and sounds like a kid again. But... "I'm alive."

He is alive. And it is a joy. A gift. A promise. He will not waste this second chance.

The newly remade halfa is crying and...it's never felt so good.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

PROVE ME WRONG

Prompt: Requested by my sister from another mister @ziasaph I hope I made you proud, babe 😉

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Roman Reigns x Reader (ft. A flirtatious Damien Priest)

Warnings: +18, smut, angst, power play, brat taming, cursing, fingering, blood, jealousy

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @marlananicole , @akiko-tanaka , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @sassymox , @nicolewoo , @saccreigns , @wickedsunfire @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @auawdo , @lustyromantic , @yungbludjazz360 , @babydee17 , @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

Notes: *places suitcase down on the floor* Ah, it feels good to be home (aka Roman Reings) 😂 If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😉

“Are you looking for someone?” A male voice asked from behind me

I turned around to find Damien Priest staring at me

“Oh no, but thanks for asking” I smiled

“Are you waiting for somebody?” He asked

“Not really” I tilted my head to the side

I wasn’t waiting per say - since Roman didn’t know I was here, it was more of a surprise visit. We hadn’t been able to see each other in two months and I couldn’t stand the distance anymore.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No” I answered and he smiled widely as he scooted closer “But I do have a husband” I laughed

“You’re mean” He joked “But so gorgeous”

“My husband thinks so too”

“He’s a very lucky man” He said, as he leaned into the wall in front of me

“And who’s the lucky gal?” I asked

“I was hoping it would be you” He smirked

“That was smooth” I chuckled “Nice try, though”

“What is it, huh? I’m not your type?” He teased

“You’re a very handsome man. So I’m afraid your looks aren’t the problem” I giggled

“So what is it?” He asked

“She’s taken, that’s the problem” Roman spoke from behind him

“Hi, Ro-“ I began

“What are you doing here?” He spat

“I wanted to see you-“

“Couldn’t you have called first, to let me know you were coming?” He asked abruptly

“Hey man, you don’t need to talk to her like that”

“And who the fuck do you think you are to tell me how am I supposed to talk to my wife?” He stared at Damien “Oh yeah, you were signing up for the lovely ‘new husband’ post a few minutes ago, right?” He smiled coldly

“Keep your fucking dick away from my wife, if you want to keep your manhood intact” Roman pulled me by my arm and made me walk in front of him

“Go to the parking lot” He said

“But the locker rooms are over there” I pointed to my left

“Are you deaf? I said go to the fucking parking lot, Sapphire” He almost screamed

“You better watch your tone with me, Roman-“

“YOU better shut your fucking mouth, go to the parking lot and wait for me there because I’ve had enough of you and Priest for today” He snarled and stormed off

He didn’t utter a single word the entire trip back to the hotel, not even in the elevator

It was only when we were inside the bedroom that he finally said something

“Do you wanna split up?”

“What?” I asked, confused

“Do you want the divorce? Do you want to be single again? Do you want to move on with your life?”

“Of course not! Why would I-“

“Then what was that little flirting scene with Damien back at the arena, huh?”

“Roman, I wasn’t flirting with anyone”

“You’re a very handsome man. So I’m afraid your looks aren't the problem” He mocked me “If that wasn’t flirting, then what is it Sapphire? Please, enlighten me” He stated bitterly

“He asked if I was looking for someone, then he flirted a bit, I told him I was married, he still tried his luck and asked if he ‘wasn’t my type’ I said he was a handsome guy and end of story! There was nothing else”

“Do I really look that dumb to you?” Roman laughed hysterically

“I’m telling the truth!” I answered, completely in disbelief by his lack of trust

“And that was it?” He asked, drying up his tears of laughter

“Of course that was fucking it!” I crossed my arms in front of my chest “What the fuck did you think happened?”

“Do you expect me to believe that nothing happened?” He asked, cynically

“What are you implying? That I fucked him in some dark hallway?”

“Or maybe it was in some empty locker room” Roman tilted his head to the side

“Fuck you!” I spat “I drove eight hours today just to see you, because I miss you! And when I get here I’m kicked to the curb like a sick dying dog? I don’t need this bullshit!” I made my way towards the door but Roman grabbed me by the arm

“I’m not done talking to you”

“But I am!” I tried to pull my arm away from his grip, but he didn’t let go “Let me go”

“No” He said, nonchalantly

“Roman, I’m serious, let.me.go”

“You’re gonna pull out some attitude with me now? Cute” He smiled

“I’m not playing, Roman. I don’t want to talk to you right now” I huffed

He pulled me towards the bed, and shoved me on it. When I tried to stand up and leave, he pushed me down again.

“We can do this all night if you want to” He said, when I tried to leave again

“Fuck off!” I snarled

Roman quickly pulled me by my ankles towards him and straddled my hips, holding my wrists down on the mattress and placing them by the side of my head.

“Sharp tongue today, huh?” He sucked my on bottom lip “I can fix that”

“Screw you!” I screamed

Roman growled and secured my wrists on top of my head with one hand, while the other squeezed my neck

“You’re going down a very dangerous path, baby” He squeezed harder “So you might want to be a little bit wiser with your choice of words”

“How fucking dare you doubt me?” I tried to release myself from his grip “Doubt my fidelity” My knees tried to hit him “Doubt my love and respect for you”

Roman released my wrists and went back to sitting down

“You fucker” I use this new freedom to hit his torso “Get off of me! I want to go back to my house, grab my stuff and leave you alone”

“You won’t do that” He calmly said, as I continued to hit him

“Yes I will! And don’t you worry, when you come back from the road, you will have the house all to yourself! So feel free to bring one of the many road whores with you!”

Roman chuckled “Why would I bring a whore from the road when I already have one waiting for me back home?”

When my attack against him was getting weak from tiredness, he secured my wrists on top of my head once again

“Aren’t you, Saph? My good little whore, so filthy, and all for me” He leaned down and kissed my lips roughly and I took the opportunity to bite his lip harshly, until I felt the taste of blood on my tongue

“Oh, my feisty little bitch!” He smiled at me, with blood staining his teeth “I missed you so fucking much”

Dipping his free hand inside my pants, Roman didn’t waste any time and slid two fingers in me

“My dirty girl is so fucking wet” He began to wiggle his fingers inside of me “You drive me crazy” He growled, biting the top of my breasts through my shirt

“Fuck me, fuck me right now!” I moaned

Roman removed his hand from my pants and shared the juices on his finger between my tongue and his, right after kissing me aggressively as he yanked my pants down, followed by his own.

Holding his length by the base, he slid it in between my folds and teased my clit with his cock’s head

“You want it? Beg for it!”

“Please fuck me, daddy! Destroy me, use me, ruin me, please?”

“That’s more like it” He grinned, before harshly entering me

“Got even tighter without daddy, baby?” He moaned, pounding forcefully “Don’t worry, I’ll fix that for you” He smiled, grabbing my hips and thrusting himself deeper and harder into me

When I was reaching my orgasm, he stopped his actions, which made me look at him confused

“You thought it would be that easy?” He laughed, turning me onto my stomach “No, baby” He slid in me again “I’m very far from being done with you” Roman pulled my hair back, until I was staring at him “You’ll take what I will give you like a good girl”

When I opened my mouth to talk back, he said

“And remember: bad girls don’t get to cum” He chuckled when I kept my mouth shut

And so he began a level of torture that would last all night long...

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[kuekyuuq]

I have to ask...

Where do the anti-supercorp people get the idea from that Lena Luthor is xenophobic?

Are we watching the same show?

I can see how one does not like Lena.

I can see how some of Lena's actions can be considered irredeemable.

I can see that her family was/is xenophobic.

I can agree she made some horrible mistakes in judgement.

Canon told us:

Lena was fired by Lex from LuthorCorp because he thought her naive about her pro-alien stance. The same brother who analysed Lena since she was four. 

Lena was horrified when Lex tied her to a chair and made her watch his attempt to kill Superman by turning the sun red

Lena came to National City in hopes to work with Supergirl (an alien)

Lena actively re-branded LutherCorp to LCorp to get rid of the anti-alien stuff and everything else people connected with the Luthor name

Yes, Lena created an alien-detector, but her intention was one out of ignorance (of the backlash this could cause), not of hate - when Kara much later explains the potential bad the item could cause, Lena is very much listening

Lena helps Kara on several occasions, using her intel and providing it to Kara, so Kara can investigate and write articles to dismantle anti-alien organisations (e.g. Veronica Sinclair's fight club, Cadmus)

Lena helps Supergirl on several occasions, using her intel and providing it to Supergirl, so Supergirl can dismantle anti-alien organisations

Lena actively seeks to dismantle Cadmus - the anti-alien group - even before Lena started suspecting Lillian to be involved

Lena schemes against Lillian to use Medusa to kill all aliens on Earth

Lena testified both against her alien-hating mother and brother

As soon Lillian told Lena about Lex' former facilities, she starts looking into them - they are well hidden, so it does take her a while (and by this date in the show, she may still not have unearthed all of them) - and dismantles many of them / continues to give Kara/Supergirl information about them (e.g. when Kara asks Lena for tech to find missing aliens, Lena offers to look into L-Corp (= former LutherCorp) database to search for anything useful for that particular cause

Lena encourages Kara strongly to find a way to warn all aliens about the alien registration manifest being leaked - she inspired Kara to "blob"

When Lillian finds out Lena is pro-alien and helping find the abducted aliens, she has her goons try to scare her off ("nothing permanent" - the goons accidentally threw Lena off her balcony...) - even her own family sees how non-xenophobic Lena is

Lena sacrifices Jack (her former boyfriend and still potential romantically involved one) to save Supergirl (the alien) - and (rightfully) blames the human woman, who controlled Jack, for it

When Lena suspects and confirms Rhea to be an alien, she cuts ties with her - because Rhea lied to her, not because she's an alien

Lena starts working with Rhea (confirmed alien) again - to help aliens who "weren't as lucky" as Rhea's people and to further and better Earth technologies; reduce environmental damages by infrastructure / good transports / traffic.... only to be betrayed by Rhea.

Lena learns Mon-El, Kara's boyfriend, was Daxamite and has zero issues about it

Lena has no issue with Sam being half-alien, but with the Reign-half being a huge menace to Earth, so tries to stop her and save Sam

The DEO kept Kryptonite in case any of the Supers went rogue - like Batman and Oliver Queen kept theirs - Lena kept and created Kryptonite and Harun-El to ...cure cancer; to fight against sicknesses, to use as a clean energy-source, to... do good things

...yes, she lied about it. But, her not-so-wrong reasoning was "if I tell, they will take it away. If they take it away, I won't be able to do good with it."

Lena rather had Supergirl drop her than chemicals that could have harmed thousands (human and alien)

Lena becomes quick allies and friends with Brainy (admitably, in many ways he's more AI than alien...) and befriends Nia later on, too

What else does Lena do with her stash of Kryptonite and the knowledge she gained from it? When Mercy & Otis Graves irradiate Earth's atmosphere with Kryptonite, Lena already has created an anti-Kryptonite suit for Supergirl and the fact it’s already at hand saves Supergirl’s life!

That's only up to season four... 

Yes, Lena did shitty stuff in season five. Arguably, for the right reasons, but ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions’...  But were any of those things xenophobic?

The problem she has with Kara in season five is NOT because she’s an alien - but because she felt betrayed, personally. Rightfully so? Eeeeeeeh.... while it surely must have hurt to learn your best friend lied to you and played two personalities, at times taking advantage of it, too - which, let’s be honest, Kara did - Kara did have her reasons (initially), it IS selfish for Lena to assume the worst and take the fact itself so personally.  But, everybody lives in their own world, I am sure - dear few readers, who took it upon yourselves to read this monster of a post - we can agree, that we all judge the world and others based on our own perceived reality, based on our own experiences, emotions and circumstance, whether we try to be better than that or not...  I’d even make the argument, Lena is more upset with her intimate friend “Kara” (whom she shared her most intimate thoughts and feelings with) having lied to her, than with “Supergirl” taking advantage of her. Being played, Lena can deal with, but trusting and seeing that trust shattered... low blow. Please, correct me if I’m wrong, but to my knowledge, the only time Lena uses Kara being an alien against her, is when she uses and reworks the Fortress of Solitude's already existing settings to trap Kara in there for long enough for herself to get a head-start on getting Myriad to work (how else was she supposed to achieve that?).  Myriad, which she wanted to use to STOP hate, including racism (xeno-cism?). Brainwashing everyone is most certainly a veeeeeeery misguided approach, but the premise of ending all hate and the resulting pain is very much like the notion of "praying for world peace" - just that Lena got sick of praying and decided to actually go ahead and do something about it ((again: notion good; (attempted) execution horrifying)).

Even Lena trapping Malefic was to that very end. She trapped Eve (human) as well on that line of thought. At the least, she offered Malefic a deal to his liking as payment...? Eve on the other hand.... 

If anything, Lena is people-phobic. She has a hard time trusting anyone, remains suspicious to a fault. ...she did effectively kill Eve on Earth-38, though, by over-writing her with Hope.

Kara forgave her aunt, who came just as close, wanting to use Myriad for very similar purposes - and then forgave Lena, eventually, just as much. The difference being, Astra died. We never got to see if Astra would have actually stopped her plan, convinced Non, and/or would have aimed / worked hard to redeem herself...

In the same episode, where Lena's attempts with Myriad failed (and Hope took the fall) Malefic, who had tried to murder multiple people as part of his revenge against his brother (and had targeted Kelly for a while, too) was set free by J'onn and sent to Mars to do good there.

The whole of National City forgave Supergirl (and her potential for going bad and for her causing actual destruction) only a week after the redK incident...

All that said:

1) Lena lied to Kara and played her. Sure, Lena felt betrayed and from her point of view, with her set of experiences and her own preexisting many traumas and (very bad) coping mechanisms, it was... well, understandable... or at least traceable. But, forgivable? That's ultimately up for her victim (Kara) to decide. And, apparently, she does forgive her. Not easily. But she does; understands both sides, evaluates, listens to others, observes the remorse, and makes her own decision / judgement... which is (initially, tentative) forgiveness.

2) The show is REALLY BAD at dealing with characters' actions’ or events' consequences. Period. There is no real consistency, 'cept that things don't have real repercussions. That is how the writers decided to write the show from season one on. If the writers think Kara forgives Lena and show it, then that's that.

3) Every time I read the notion that Lena was/is xenophobic, I can't help but wonder if anyone who claims such even watched the show.

4) Lena is not her brother. She's flawed. She makes mistakes. But for once, Lena and her character are suffering the consequences. That may not enough for the liking of Lena Luthor haters, or anti-Supercorp taggers, but it is what it is - and it is much more than most any actual bad guy had to suffer through. Bad guys with evil intentions, (mass) murderers, people (alien and human) that rationally caused lasting harm and/or trauma to their victims.

5) Lena is not xenophobic.

Kue out.

[brainmaniaman]

PERHAPS YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE (ERWIN SMITH/READER)

TAGS: sugar daddy erwin, smut, brat tamer erwin, oral (male receiving), lazy fucking? , praise kink? very light degradation? idk i am just writing things that i feel like was included DESCRPTION: my brain absolutely rots for brat tamer sugar daddy erwin who finds a creative way to punish his baby for making a fool out of him i am going to cry idk why i just see erwin a brat tamer but one that goes very slow. idk this is just how i see him in my head don't @ me. idk how i feel about this but it definitely exists. WORD COUNT: 3,521

It was no secret that Erwin Smith like young women.

Specifically, young smart men and women - men and women with a good head on their shoulders and aspirations. It made conversating enjoyable, as he liked to hear about what made them tick, what brought them joy, what they wanted to do in their lives. Provided their aspirations were noble enough for his liking, he liked to fund their passions, lifestyles, and hobbies. After all, his pockets were deep and no mister, misses, or family of his own and things got boring - so since he didn't have kids or a life partner to pour into, he liked to pour into his fleeting partners.

He also liked to see them unravel before him, tongue hanging out of the side of their mouths, toes curling against the mattress, and eyes rolling into the back of their head as he fucked the mercilessly stupid - reducing them to nothing but a babbling mess of incoherent thoughts and words, drunk on the feeling of his massive cock sliding in and out of them.

But Erwin Smith, a gentleman, would never admit to that.

Sprawled out on his back, Erwin rested his right hand behind his head, looking up at you as you straddled his waist, his left hand idly playing with the small, silver, ring dangling from the front of the black choker adorning your neck.

A pout twisted on your lips as he pushed the ring back and forth, eyes focusing on your throat instead of you.

Your hands pawed at his waist before moving to his belt buckle, beginning to slide it through.

"Ah -" Erwin moved his right arm out from behind his head, resting his large hand over yours - keeping you from undoing his belt. "What do you think you're doing?"

Your lips curled downwards into a scowl.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Something you shouldn't."

"And why . . ." You tapped your free hand, the one that wasn't trapped under his own, on his - impatiently. "Is that?"

"Do you recall the events that unfolded tonight?"

"Hm . . ." You tapped your index finger against your chin. "No. Not particularly."

Had this been anyone else, their temper would have been lost. Hell, your attitude was strong enough to crack most people who tried to reign it under control. Erwin ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his eyebrows furrowed together. If anything, Erwin liked the challenge. If there was anything Erwin was known for, it was his seemingly infinite patience.

"You can't recall?"

"No."

"Would you like to recall before I give you a reason to recall?"

You squirmed with excitement. Threats excited you - threats with others usually ended in spankings, and you liked those.

"No - I don't think so."

Erwin hooked his right finger into the silver ringlet dangling at your neck, giving it a slight tug forward - bringing your head down so that your lips ghosted his own.

"Very well then." Erwin breathed against your lips, "Take of your stockings."

Excitedly, you began to roll off your black stockings - those $300 dollar pair he had bought you on a whim, because you had pointed at them and told him you thought they looked nice.

You shifted on him patiently, dropping your weight down onto his cock, squirming with anticipation - waiting for him to flip you onto your stomach, press your head into the pillows, and strike his hand against your ass.

That time never came.

In fact, he was starring intently into your own eyes - and now you weren't squirming with anticipation but, rather, nervousness.

"Ride me."

"What -"

"You heard me."

"You can't be serious -"

"I am."

"Suddenly, I remember what I did -" You were starting to, essentially, plead with him, "We were at the party and -"

Erwin reached up, pressing his finger to your lips.

"You can finish the story when my cock is inside of you."

You sucked in your lower lip, tears biting the corner of your eyes.

He removed his large hand from your own.

"Go on - take my belt off . . . since you were previously so eager to take it off."

Your face was hot with humiliation and frustration as your fingers fumbled with his belt, starting to pull it through its loops.

"Maybe I shouldn't have told you to get your own drink when you asked me to grab the punch . . ."

"Mmm . . ." Erwin responded, lifting his hips slightly as you slid the belt off of his hips. "Perhaps you shouldn't have. It doesn't change the prognosis of your situation, though. Continue with what you were doing." Erwin now stretched both of his arms back, his abs rippling and flexing underneath his shirt as he cradled his hands underneath his head, eyes still trained on you.

Your fingers shook a bit as you began to unbutton his pants, pushing his boxers down, pulling his cock out. It was big, long, and girthy - the holy trifecta, as you called it - and was currently semi-hard. You ran your tongue over your top row of teeth. You couldn't help but imagine how great it would feel for his big hands to press your head down into the mattress and fill you up from behind before fucking you into the bed.

"Be a dear and help me out, use your mouth."

Your heart was pounding in your chest.

"I shouldn't have embarrassed you in front of your friends -"

"Mmm . . ." Erwin hummed again, "Perhaps you shouldn't have. Continue on."

"And if I don't?"

He raised an eyebrow at you, reaching his hand out and pressing the palm of his hand against the hot side of your face.

"You know me, I'm not going to force you to do anything you're not willing to do."

"Alright, seems like we have a mutual understanding -" You leaned him into his warm hand, body tensing at the feeling of his touch.

"- but do you think I'll just forget about tonight? At some point, you'll have to face the music. Do you think I'll just forget by tomorrow and then by the next day, roll you over and fuck you? You should know me better by now."

You crinkled your nose.

Running your tongue over your bottom lip, you hesitantly leaned your head down. Truthfully, this isn't how you expected the night to end. You had hoped in your playfulness - in openly defying him and saying no in front of his friends - he'd lose his temper at home and bring out the crop whip.

"Are you sure you don't want to just use the crop whip and call it even?"

Erwin's arms now stretched behind his head again, he tilted his head down. The sight of your hand gripped around the base of his cock, looking up at him with those doe eyes - it made him want to roll you onto your stomach, press your cheek to the headboard, and thrust into you mercilessly.

But this wasn't about seeking his own pleasure - it was about teaching you a lesson - and patience was key.

"Whips are for good girls and boys." Erwin drawled lazily, "Do you think you've been good?"

You hummed in response. He really wasn't going to let up, was he?

"And if I comply, what do I get?" You puffed out your cheeks.

"You think making amends should end in a reward?"

"I don't see why not."

"We'll see."

We'll see.

That maybe was enough to convince you it might be worth your time to comply. You lowered your head, running your tongue around his tip. You could feel his legs tense at the feeling. You used his tongue to continue to tease around the tip of his cock.

Two could play at this game.

You had planned on continuing to do this until you felt Erwin's hand come against the back of your head. It wasn't heavy, it didn't push down on your head, but simply rested there.

"Go on."

If you were going to lower your head, he wanted you to do it out of your own volition.

He wanted the satisfaction of your compliance.

There was a moment of hesitation as you continued to tease the tip of his cock - which was big. You hadn't taken him in your mouth before - usually, by now, he would bury himself to you to his hilt and thrust mercilessly. You hadn't had him in your mouth before. Hell, you weren't sure if it was capable. Even so, you widened your mouth - slowly taking him into your mouth - your tongue sliding along the length of his big cock, which stretched your mouth beyond what was normal. He kept his hand on the back of your head, fingers curling into the strands of your hair.

Slowly, you began to slide your bob your head up and down on his cock. Pride swelled in you as he let out a breathy sigh, his abdomen flexing slightly. Positioned between his legs, you gripped at his thighs - fingernails digging into the large muscles of his thighs. Erwin's thighs clenched as your sides as you continued to bob your head up and down his cock slowly - your hands gripping at the base of his cock to steady yourself. You had only managed to make it half of the way down before you could feel your eyes water, close to triggering your gag reflex. Your neck began to flex upwards but his hand became heavy on the back of your head, pushing your head back down slowly.

"Your little mouth looks so pretty around my dick-" Erwin breathed out, "Much better than it looks when you're spewing defiant vulgarities against me."

You grew wet at the comment, drenching you panties. You fidgeted, rubbing your thighs together with arousal as his fingers curled tightly in the strands.

Pink lipstick smudged at his dick as he pulled your head upwards, starting to guide you up and down the length of his cock.

"Don't you think?"

Saliva dripped from the edges of your lips as your mouth continued to slide up and down his dick, his breath becoming shaking and unstable - only driving you to perform better. Perhaps if you had him like putty your hands, he'd be more willing to forgive and forget.

"So pretty -" Erwin praised, his sharp blue eyes looking lazily down at you, clearly pleased with the way you struggled to take the entirety of his cock between your lips, the way saliva dripped from the edges of your lips, and the muffled mmfs and hhns you gagged out - rumbling against his skin. "Pretty little things like you shouldn't waste your time spewing such hateful and bratty things. Don't you agree?"

"Hmmm" You hummed against his cock, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His breath was becoming more erratic as he continued to guide your head up and down the length of his cock, though maintained eye contact with you.

"- wanna look into your eyes when I cum in your mouth" Erwin choked out, his chest rising and falling more rapidly, "- and see it spill over that smart mouth of yours"

Your pussy now throbbing and aching as his tip pressed the back of your throat, coming dangerously close to triggering your gag reflex.

He didn't move his hips to aide you, simply guided your head.

Despite his light moans and groans, he remains miraculously quiet. Unlike you, he's never been quite loud. There's a moment as your lips and tongue drag up from the base of his cock, dragging to his tip, and he for a moment he thinks he may just see stars as he unloads into your mouth. If you think about pulling back, you can't, as his hand holds you in place even as cum starts to drip from the corners of your mouth, spilling and dribbling onto your chin.

His fingers uncurl from your hair and drop to move strands of hair from your eyes before wiping at the corner of your mouth - though the movement of his thumb doesn't do anything to clean you up in the slightest. It's more of gentle gesture than anything else.

"I've done my part -" You go to sputter out, but he only laughs and shakes his head.

Erwin's hand slips between your legs, gently grabbing at your pussy with his big hand. "You're already wet - and from just that? Dirty little thing. You want my cock in you, right?"

"Yes -"

The hand between your thighs presses up against your pussy and his left hand grips at your hips, lifting you to your knees so that you're properly straddling him again. He's working of your lacy panties now, tossing them to the side.

"Go ahead -" He motions to himself, "Fill yourself."

You furrow your eyebrows, expression clearly displeased. You feel more and more control slipping away from you and suddenly, you feel increasingly more self-conscious. By now, anyone else would have simply had their way with you - the way you liked it. But this man was making you work for it - and honestly, it was punishment enough.

"I think I've learned my lesson by now -" You sputter out, not too keen on doing the rest of the work.

"Maybe you have." Erwin responds lazily, "But if I were to end the punishment here, you wouldn't learn your lesson - would you? But surely, if you want - we can stop here." He pressed his hand in between your thighs, his fingers rubbing lazily at your slit before running around your clit. Your legs were shaking as you let out small whines and moans. "Do you want to end here?"

"N-No!" You sputter out as his fingers continue to slide slickly up and down your pussy. Erwin's fingers teased the entrance of your cunt, pressing in slightly as his thumb pressed itself into your clit - but didn't go much further.

"Then I suggest -" Erwin arched his back up, bringing his lips to ghost over yours as his free hand wiped some of the frustrated tears dripping at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down the sides of your cheeks, "- you put in the work to show me just how sorry you are . . . and maybe I'll consider rewarding you for your effort."

He really wasn't going to relent.

You placed your hands on his fully erect cock again, lining the tip of his dick up against your entrance. Both of his hands rested against the side of your face reassuringly, admiring how your chin glistened with his cum.

"Go on." He encouraged you.

Slowly, you lowered yourself down onto his cock - carefully taking it agonizingly slow as his dick stretched you out uncomfortably; it was clearly taking you a while to adjust. For the moment, he let you take your sweet time - besides, the punishment itself wasn't about not seeking pleasure. It was about making you put in the work to seek out your own pleasure. Perhaps after this, you'd be less likely to make a fool out of him in front of his friends.

Your legs shifted as you sat still, practically warming his cock as you sat there.

"Well?" He asked patiently, "Work for it."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Hesitantly, you raised yourself up a bit - sliding yourself upwards. At the feeling of your tight cunt sliding against his big cock, he couldn't help but groan. Slowly, you lowered yourself down again. For a second, you waited - hoping that if you took it slow and steady, he'd get impatient, grab you by the hips, and fuck you himself.

"You're smart enough to know I'm not stupid," Erwin said, tapping your temple with his index finger, "I know the game you're playing. Keep going."

You pouted but he simply drug his thumb over your lip, puling it down before hooking his thumb into your mouth - pressing the pad of his thumb into your gums.

You continued to slide slowly up and down against his cock, groaning as his tip pressed into that sweet spot he knew how to reach every time. However, given that you were tasked with handling it yourself - it was much different.

Your body ached for him to grab at you - your breasts, your ass, your thighs - something. But instead, Erwin moved his hands from your mouth and linked his fingers behind his head, propping his head up so he could see your little mouth contort into different expressions as you bounced up and down on his dick, clearly humiliated by the fact that you were even having to put in this much work to begin with.

"Very good." He cooed as you placed the palms of your hands on his clothed chest, working at the buttons of his shirt. "Ah - no." Erwin corrected you, grabbing your hands and removing them from his shirt. "I don't think you deserve it. Unbutton your own shirt."

Your ears grew hot as you continued to bounce up and down on his cock, his tip hitting your sweet spot over and over again. Your eyes were watering and legs were shaking - clearly already tired, as this was obviously something you didn't ever do.

Your shaky fingers unbuttoned the front of your shirt as you continued to bounce on his cock, tight black skirt clinging to your thighs as he looked lazily up at you, once more moving his hands behind his head.

"Take it off."

You slid the shirt off your shoulders, letting it drop at the edge of the bed.

"Now your bra, dear."

Still bouncing, this time more relentlessly, you twisted your arms behind your back - struggling to unclasp your bra but, after a few long seconds of struggling, freed your breasts from its restraints.

"Touch me -" You breathed out as you dropped your bra at the end of the bed with your shirt, "P-Please" You pleaded.

"Hmm . . ." Erwin looked pensive. "No. I don't think you're sorry enough yet." His own breath was becoming labored again, his abdomen flexing and legs twitching as pleasure began to pool in him. The sight of you helplessly bouncing up and down on him, your ass pressing against his pelvis, breasts bouncing up and down as you struggled to keep up the pace that was most pleasurable for you, was absolutely magnificent. "Since you want to touch yourself so bad, why don't you do it yourself? Go ahead, pinch your nipples."

Hesitantly, you gripped at your right breast, letting your thumb roll over your nipple gently and couldn't help but moan as you pinched and pulled at it - desperately trying to receive pleasure from yourself as you continued to rock your hips back and forth - sweat rolling down the back of your neck as you bring your other hand to fondle at your left breast, gripping and squishing at the skin - closing your eyes and pretending it was him playing with your nipples.

Your bouncing became more desperate, frantic even, and a pool of pleasure was beginning to build at your abdomen.

"H-Help . . ." You sputtered out, but Erwin didn't seem to be particularly interested in helping you out, his own breath ragged and shaking. More than anything, he wanted to grab your hips and snap his upwards into yours - but reminded himself that it wasn't about his pleasure but, instead, teaching you a lesson.

"You seem to -" Erwin groaned a bit, "You seem to -" He repeated himself, "Be handling it just fine -"

You bounced more desperately against his cock, his tip smashing easily into your sweet spot as you slid up and down against him with ease, clearly exhausted but still desperate to get something out of this entire punishment.

Before you knew it, the tension in the pit of your stomach had broke and you were gushing all over his dick and your own thighs, your body tensing and shaking as you orgasmed.

Erwin himself hadn't orgasmed - though he came close. In truth, the only times he could orgasm was when he took control himself. But his pleasure hadn't come from the sex itself, but instead watching you desperately and tiredly fuck yourself stupid on his cock, rocking back and forth pathetically as you tried to work for some kind of release.

Besides, bad little playthings that misbehaved didn't deserve to have their pussy dripping with his cum - no matter how desperately they wanted to.

Very gently, he raised you off his cock and helped you lay down beside him.

Slowly, he zipped himself up and leaned himself over on his arms, pressing a very gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I think you've redeemed yourself."

He had half a mind to roll you over onto your stomach and fuck you to sleep - but punishments were punishments for a reason.

Instead, he stood up and grabbed your clothes from the end of the bed, putting them in the hamper before changing into his own pajamas and crawling back under the sheets himself.

Erwin leaned over, placing one more gentle kiss to your cheek before turning over to turn off the lamp at his bedside.

"If you decide to behave, then tomorrow will be a better day."

With that blunt, yet cheeky, comment - he turned the silver finial on the lamp, shutting off the light with a gentle click.

[h34rtizuku]

𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔶

i hate angst without happy endings, but i’m also self-destructive. therapy is expensive, but ripping your own heart out and bearing your insecurities into a full-fledged story for you and others to read? free.

warnings : angst without a happy ending, insecurities, jealousy, mayhaps toxic behavior?? idk if ur looking for a good time, this isn’t for you bestie <3 also i might misspell uraraka’s name wrong a few times, i’ll fix them later :*

being quirkless had its advantages. with such a small number of us being born without powers, it left a lot of the mundane jobs open.

which is why, as soon as pro-hero deku opened his agency, i came to him with the request to be his assistant.

on the daily, he had people coming up to him asking for internships or to be his sidekick. but he never had anyone ask to be his assistant.

being the number one hero often meant that every day things, things one may take for granted or deem insignificant became just another list of things on the busy man’s to-do list.

therefore the appeal of having someone file his paper work and run to get him coffee in the morning was great enough to hire me.

and i was glad he did.

this is what i have been working for since i was a first year in high school. after watching the freckled boy break limb after limb to defeat his opponent.

yeah, i saw it as irresponsible and stupid that he had to break his own body to save others. but i was willing to overlook it.

my one goal during my remaining years of high school and up to college was that wherever that little green haired boy went, i would follow.

and that reigned true as his assistant. i would shuffle after him like a duckling following it’s mother, wherever he needed me.

if he needed me in a briefing to take notes for him, i was there. if he needed me to put in overtime to help him file the last minute paperwork, i was there. if he wanted a particular pastry from a specific bakery half way across town, i was there.

izuku was never mean, or demanding. always thanking me profusely for anything i ever did for him. leaving me to remind him that this was my job, and any way to make his life easier was good enough for me.

but maybe i should have held onto those blushed cheeks and crinkled eyes as he thanked me for the coffee that he didn’t even know he needed, for a just a little bit longer.

you know how a child will open a new toy on christmas and it quickly becomes their new favorite toy? playing with it non-stop, taking it wherever they go. until one day, they grow bored of it and never touch it again as it grows dusty at the bottom of their toy bin.

i know izuku wasn’t doing it on purpose, he didn’t have an intentionally mean bone in his body. i guess you could say, some other toys came around and took his attention away.

and that toy, was a particularly difficult mission in collaboration with uravity’s agency.

the two spent long hours cooped in his office as they went over notes, plans, intel, etc. until the conversation melted into talk about the old days and the wonderful memories they had together in high school.

i went to work the following days with absolutely no energy to handle whatever would be thrown at me. i hadn’t been able to get much sleep, as when i closed my eyes the only thing i could see was the look in his eyes when he saw her.

my patience was already thin given the events of the most recent week, but when the printer started malfunctioning leaving me unable to fax the papers izuku wanted me send, you could say that was the first domino.

i swatted and kicked and pressed any button on the stupid machine. telling myself i was merely trying to get to stupid thing to work, but deep down i knew that the printer was just my temporary punching bag. an outlet to unleash my anger and emotions onto something instead of letting them fester inside me.

so when one of izuku’s sidekicks came by, giving a snarky comment about my behavior, i was able to brush it off with a roll of my eyes and an equally snippy comment back.

but as the hunk of plastic remained steady in its plan to ruin my day, the lack of sleep and lingering resentment started to bubble within me once more.

i heard footsteps behind me and a joking voice say, “having a bit of trouble are we?”

if it weren’t for the white hot anger buzzing in my ears i may have been able to identify the voice before i lashed out on them. but we already established this was not my day.

so as my hands moved to clutch the machine below me, most likely to restrain my abuse to merely verbal instead of physical. i spit out, “listen i’m fucking trying okay? so how about you get off my ass and do something useful.”

i turned around to face who i thought would be another sidekick sent to push my buttons. but i instead came face-to-face with the green haired man himself.

eyes blown wide, mouth agape in shock, a light blush dusted under his freckles as he fought to handle the situation the best way he could.

but i beat him to it with a deep bow and an endless flow of apologies, opting to only blame my anger on the malfunctioning piece of junk behind me and not the several other reasons i was plotting murder in my head.

with a gentle smile and a soft chuckle he placed his hand to the back of his head, rubbing at the baby jade hairs of his undercut. “i see. bad days happen to the best of us.” he replied, his voice like honey.

i became drunk on the minor interaction he was giving me, bringing me back to the beginning days at this job where we would spend late nights trying to keep each other awake under the only singular yellow light as we finished paperwork. or where sometimes he’d invite me to spend lunch with him as he felt he’d enjoy the company.

i got lost in the intricacies of his face as he tampered with the printer. thin eyebrows furrowed in concentration, bottom lip captured between his thick scarred fingers as he muttered to himself.

i fell in a trance, locked on the slope of his button nose, his gemstone eyes, and chubby caramel cheeks dusted in freckles.

he looked essentially like the same boy i saw on the screen all those years ago, yet matured and hardened by the realities of life.

i wanted nothing more than to reach out and protect him any way my small quirkless body could. to be there for him the same way he was for everyone else.

he eventually got the printer to work with a boyish smile on his face as he told me that despite the good roughing up i gave the machine, he was able to locate and handle the issue. “next time, skip the punching and come find me, yeah? i’ll help with any problems you face.” he joked as he made his way into his office to resume his work.

i didn’t know it was possible to fall harder for that man, but he proved with every day of his existence that the impossible didn’t apply to him.

i was finally able to get some sleep the next few nights as my eyelids filled with the blush on his cheekbones and his gaze of concentration.

but my trip to cloud 9 didn’t last very long as the occasional meeting with uraraka became trips to her agency, and occasional meetings in civilian clothes to civilian places, like coffee shops and corner stores.

to anyone else, those would read as dates. to me, they read as dates. but izuku assured the gossiping sidekicks that it was strictly professional ~ nothing more, nothing less.

i knew that i would end up with more fits of restlessness and sleepless nights as i pictured the two of them laughing over a cup of coffee. so i sought out a replacement.

a moment. a look. a sentence.

anything directed at me that would choke out the ugly thoughts and images my brain would show me of the two of them together.

so that afternoon as i brought him his lunch, i placed the box safely onto the table beside him as he continued skimming through the papers littered across the desk.

he muttered a small ‘thank you’ but it wasn’t enough. as my hand moved to place his drink that i held in my other hand next to his food, a different idea popped in my head.

my hand moved faster than my brain could register what it had just planned to do. squeezing just enough for the lid to pop off and slip from my fingers to tumble into his lap.

as soon as the liquid and ice hit his lap he flew up from his seat and away from his desk.

my hands flew up to my mouth as a string of apologies fell from my lips. eyes watering in guilt as they moved around the room trying to locate something to soak up the mess with.

“i am so sorry, my fingers slipped and before i knew it i had lost control of the cup. i-i can’t tell you how sorry i am.” i rambled as i took my blazer off to wipe at the wet stains starting to form at the bottom of his teal suit.

“hey, hey, hey.” he said softly, taking my tinier hands into his large and battered ones. warmth enveloped my clutched sticky hands as he gently urged me to stand from my crouching position in front of him.

“it was an accident. no harm, no foul.” he said with a soft smile.

i should feel bad, as it wasn’t entirely an accident. but the warm and gentle look in his eyes made what little guilt i felt crumble away.

his thumbs rubbing soft circles to my skin as he worked to get the tears to stop streaming from my eyes was enough to get me to sleep like a baby for a good 2 weeks.

until it became a cycle. he would spend too much time around uraraka, and then i would do something all in the name of garnering his attention back on me.

was it wrong of me to do, to take advantage of his kindness? to take advantage of the fact that he was naive to my true intentions? maybe.

but i felt i deserved it. i felt i deserved to be looked at the same way he looked at her.

i wasn’t any different than she was. with the way she used her big brown eyes to pull him in. or the way her cute behavior made him blush. or the way her sweet way of talking made him laugh.

i can’t be her, or compare to her. so i found my own way around it. and no one could fault me for doing so. they just couldn’t.

at the end of the mission, uravity decided to throw a party in celebration of their win. a nice formal gathering, with everyone she had involved.

when izuku pulled me aside one late night to tell me that he was extending the invitation to me felt akin to a marriage proposal.

i wasn’t involved much in the case, merely being used as the one who provided them their lunch on their long meeting days. or filing and organizing the paperwork and notes that they would compile. i wasn’t out in the field, breaking bones like izuku or saving lives like uraraka.

i didn’t deserve to go, but i didn’t care. izuku had invited me personally and damn it, i was gonna be there.

yet, i shouldn’t have gone.

i shouldn’t have spent the hours on my makeup. i shouldn’t have enlisted the help of my best friend to do my hair as i gushed about how izuku had personally invited me, how he was the most perfect man ever, and how i was undoubtedly in love with him.

i shouldn’t have spent the week leading up to the event going from shop to shop trying to find the prettiest dress that was just the exact color of his eyes. i shouldn’t have spent about half my paycheck on said dress when i found it.

i shouldn’t have decided to face my fears and step out of my comfort zone to join a group of heroes that i knew were old classmates of izuku’s as they whispered about something that clearly was a raving topic.

because then i wouldn’t have heard how izuku was planning on confessing to uraraka. i wouldn’t have heard how this mission caused old high school feelings to rekindle. i should have known my place.

and that was far away from here, from the hero scene. i should have grown up to be an accountant or a chef.

when my father took me to get that checkup when i was 5, to confirm that there truly resides no quirk inside me.

i should have left it at that.

when i was riding my bike that day as a first year and i saw the group of boys huddled around a screen as they tuned into the u-a sports festival, i should have kept riding.

as maybe it would have saved me a lot of pain.

i backed away slowly, heels tapping against the tile floor as i hurried out of the building.

i didn’t realize how suffocated i felt until the chilly autumn hair brushed my face and into my lungs.

my whole body felt hot, i felt numb. i stumbled onto the sidewalk as i looked into the dark azure sky glittered with stars.

the tears finally spilled from my eyes as the stars muddled together into a messy blur. my stomach swirled and tensed as pit of nausea sunk in my stomach.

my chest heaved as it tried to process the crisp cold air into oxygen, but my throat was too tight to let much in.

i gasped and sobbed as my back hit the brick behind me, my legs wobbling unable to carry my weight much longer.

i slid into a crouched position as my tears mixed with the black of my mascara. streaming in pools down my cheeks, neck, and chest.

in the midst of my sobbing and heaving, i called my friend who was still at my apartment awaiting details of that night when i came home.

knowing it was far too early for me to be calling her she picked up the phone with confusion. it didn’t take much words from me, not like i gave her much, to convince her that she needed to come pick me up.

as she hung up the phone, my hand slipped from my ear, falling limp to my side as i placed my head into my other arm resting atop my knees.

this was inevitable and i knew it. no matter how many ways i was able to manipulate a sweet glance from him, it didn’t mean anything.

izuku was nice to everybody. sweet to everyone. kind to anyone.

but with her, it was different. he treated her that way, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

they had years of memories, of laughs. they were perfect for each other, both smart, and kind, and always looking to help others. never acting selfishly or for personal gain.

they shared soft touches like they did old stories. they looked at each other with the same respect and admiration.

i was wrong. uraraka and i are nothing alike. she didn’t have to beg izuku to look at her like she hung the moon, he did so without asking.

unbeknownst to me, as i was manipulating izuku into these fabricated moments of gentle gazes and kind words, i was manipulating myself.

lying to the deepest parts of me that knew that this wasn’t real. that i wasn’t her. that he didn’t think of us the same way.

to him, uraraka is an old friend, who views the world the same way he does, who shares his same passions, who built her quirk to do some good within this world.

to him, i was a coffee-getter, the girl who knew his lunch orders like the back of her hand, the girl who filed his papers. the quirkless little fangirl who practically begged him to give her a job under him.

i heard the metal door open and snap shut announcing that someone was now outside with me. however, i just assumed it was a party-goer stepping outside for a smoke or a phone call so i didn’t bother to look up.

i also wasn’t in the mood for if the person happened to be a drunk girl who was ready to become my therapist as she saw me crouched on the sidewalk wishing to become one with the cement and simply cease to exist.

“there you are, i was wondering where you went?”

i would have taken the amateur therapist over this.

the voice belonged to izuku, dripping with sugar and default kindness.

if i could become one with the bricks just a little bit faster that would be great.

“hey, are you alright?” his tone became worried but i still didn’t dare to look up from my arms.

“do you feel sick? did something happen? do i need to take you home?” there he goes, into hero mode. ready to drop anything to help anyone facing the slightest of inconveniences.

“please just leave me alone.” i mumbled, throat tight and voice wavering as i try to hold the tears that still remain to fall.

“what did you say? i didn’t quite hear you.” he said softly, gently setting his large hands onto my exposed shoulder.

they should feel like welcoming warmth, but instead they felt blistering hot as i shoved them away as quickly as i could.

“i said leave me alone.” i said, slightly louder as i no longer was stuffed in my arms and knees.

he immediately saw the mess my face was in, i could tell by the way he quickly reverted fully into deku.

“hey, what’s wrong? whatever it is, i can help. didn’t i say you could come to me whenever you ne-“

“oh my god just stop! i can’t take it anymore.” i snapped, finally able to look him in the face.

but not for long as i saw the same look on his complexion as the first time i snapped at him.

“you’re too fucking nice. leaving you vulnerable for people to take advantage of you. giving them a reason to be selfish.”

“i dont-“ he tried to start but i cut him off.

“i don’t need a hero, izuku. there are people you just can’t save.”

as he worked to wrap his head around what was happening, my friend pulled up in my getaway car.

i bent down and grabbed my purse, but before i could fully escape this night, izuku grabbed my wrist causing me to stare into his eyes.

now lit aflame with desperation, “please just tell me what’s wrong. let me help you.” he encouraged softly.

but i wasn’t going to fall for it, not again.

i wasn’t gonna be played for the fool as i took the soft look in his eyes for anything but the gaze of a hero hoping to add another save to their statistics.

“god you never know when to quit!” i yelled as i yanked my wrist back. “and i hate that i-“

loved that about you?

no, love that about you.

i shook my head, thankful that for once my brain caught my actions before i spilled and made a mess again.

i walked quickly to the car, opening the passenger door almost as fast in hopes that within its metal sanctuary i could finally escape this hell.

“y/n- i-“

“mr. midoriya.” i just about whispered, my energy long since drained.

he laughed gently and i cursed the way my heart squeezed a little at the sound.

still head over heels for the angelic sound.

“you haven’t called me that in a long-“

“i quit.”

“w-what?” he muttered in disbelief.

i wouldn’t believe it either, not after the way i came to him nearly 4 years ago saying i would even be willing to clean toilets if he asked me to, so long as i got to work for him.

“i quit.” i repeated.

“you don’t mean that.”

he’s right i didn’t, not really.

hot tears started to dribble as my lower lip puckered in a sour quiver.

“no i do, sir.” i shook. “i will send someone to collect my things on monday.”

and with that i closed the door.

“drive.” i whispered to my friend who after a moment of looking at me, trying to read me, silently put the car into drive and started forward.

leaving izuku behind to stumble after the car, mouth muttering, trying to form any sort of sentence or sense.

but i couldn’t see him, knowing not to look at the mirrors situated on the side of the vehicle.

for they too are liars, as objects in the mirror are farther than they appear.

*** my little blue bitch working overtime

🧼 also mayhaps “soap” by melanie martinez fits this story… unintentionally ~ but if i’m wrong it’s cuz i haven’t listened to it in a while