#but i wad hoping to get into the fandom

[limesandcoconuts]

Percy Jackson is wild, you see this huge cult following and then you watch the movies and they're not good

[thetisming]

im actually really worried that im not that interested in &j anymore like ivd been having a hard time writing about it and talking about it online and i mean i talk about it a lot irl but idk like people have been knowing more than me and im starting to feel so incredibly inferior that it's hard for me to enjoy it

[reallyromealone]

hello! Could you make a reader!baby who is Gojo's son? and megumi takes care of that baby since he is basically his brother hehe?

Title: a day with big brother Gumi

Fandom: Jujutsu kaisen

Characters: Megumi, gojo

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: -

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, child male reader, fluff, cute, baby reader, platonic (obviously)

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) Was sleepy, lifted gently by his papa from his crib and given his pacifier "good morning, sleepy" Gojo said to his son who looked up curiously and patted his face as the two walked through the estate to the kitchen "the chefs cooked up some delicious apple and carrot puree for you" (name) seemed to wake up a bit more at the mention of foodz causing his dad to laugh.

Seated in his high chair, Gojo fed his son while feeding himself periodically "so here's our plan" Gojo pulled his schedule out for his son to see, pretending the babe had any clue what he was looking at "I got a few things I gotta do but you get to hang out with big bro Megumi"

"Ooee!" (Name) Squealed and smacked the table of his high chair "yeah, you get to hang out all day and! He might take you to the park" Gojo didn't want his son to lack socialization so he took him to the park and a high end day-care when he worked, and two nannies that worked on a week by week basis.

Megumi smiled at the boy who shakily stood, holding onto the coffee table for dear life in his little sheep onesie "oooee!" He Squealed and let go before getting a few steps forward, the two sorcerer's watching intently while Megumi got to his knees and hold his arms for the little one who stumbled into his hold "good job!" Megumi lifted him high up and Gojo made sure to save the video of his son walking to the cloud.

"Now you behave and don't go chasing your reflection again!" Gojo playfully teased his son who giggled when his belly was tickled.

Megumi and (name) were like two peas in a pod, the teen laying on his stomach, propped by his arms watching (name) play with large foam building bricks, making a tower and giggling when his big brother would knock it down.

Then repeat.

(Name) Was a spitting image of his dad, save for a few key features and it was obvious the boy liked to mimic his dad's movements and subsequently Megumis.

"So fun" Megumi said calmly, holding the boy by his belly while helping him down the slide as (name) let out infectious laughter, the two going once more before swing time. "Whoaaa, so high!" (Name) Was by no means soaring high but don't tell him that, tiny feet kicking excitedly with each push "aaaanana!"

After the park the two went to go get some snacks, Megumi eating a popsicle and (name) got a tiny amount of shaved ice while they looked at videos of cats on Megumis phone, the boy absolutely tranced by the felines.

Megumi walked into the estate as (name) slept on his shoulder, diaper changed at a public washroom and ready for nap time.

Gojo kept (name) on a strict schedule, Megumi remembering how much of a nightmare little (name) was before and for everyone's sanity, you NEVER derived from the schedule.

While (name) slept in his crib, Megumi did some homework and ate lunch as he had free reign of the kitchen after living here for a fair amount of time before moving to the dorms.

"Hope he wasn't too much of a goblin" Gojo said to his in another life son, handing him a wad of cash "he was fine, a few fits but nothing I couldn't handle"

[theghoulgirl]

Adoration (Keith Kogane/Reader)

A 1,300 word oneshot that takes place after the war in which Keith and the reader both live together. Pretty much a slice-of-life in which they both get ready for bed on a cold winter night. (18+)

I also know I am writing for a pretty lifeless fandom, but alas, I wrote this because I wanted to. Not because I expect much traffic to come across it. If you do happen to stubble upon it, then I hope you enjoy!

As the sun wore down on the horizon, it covered the small town in a frigid chill. Luckily the two lovers were tucked away indoors in a desperate attempt to fend off the cold that crept outdoors. But despite their attempt, the youngest of the love birds could not effectively beat the freezing temperatures that had washed over the country. 

“Keith, my dearest?” 

“Yes hon?”

“I actually cannot feel my hands anymore.” Keith and (y/n) were snuggled up on the leather loveseat that sat in the living room of their house, with the memories of war behind them in the not-so-distant past. To further prove her point, she decided to stick an ice-cold hand under his shirt and rest it on his stomach.

Keith let out a surprised gasp and gently shoved her away with a bellowing cackle. “Dear god, go take a hot shower or something! What the actual hell, how is that human? Are you human? That’s not human. ” 

(Y/n) let out a giggle at his rapid fire comments. “I’m not so sure I am anymore. Or maybe you’re not human, especially considering you are still as fiery as a furnace.” 

“Yes. I am not fully human, we know this.” Keith waved his hand in a small circle. 

“But that?” He pointed down at her hands “That is not human. I know human, and this ain’t it.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes at his antics and sat crossed legged next to him with her arms stretched above her head. 

“Well it’s nearly a blizzard out there! You also won’t let me turn the temperature up, so I’m cold!” Although he is right about taking a shower. It’s nearly time for bed and my face feels incredibly gross. (Y/n) stared at Keith’s face in contemplation. 

In a moment of courage, she whispered “Take a shower with me?”Keith shot her a gleeful smirk.

“There wouldn’t be any actual bathing if I joined. So, unfortunately,  I am going to have to pass on your tempting offer.”

“But it would be fun and then I’d get to have, not one, but two different heat sources.” A crimson heat spread across her cheeks at the suggestiveness of her first comment. The corner of Keith’s eyes crinkled as his grin widened, and he patted her on as a sign to get up. 

“Now. Go get a shower. You’re an ice cube and I do not have a nuclear core to keep you warm.”

“Fine. Fine. I’m going.”

After her vision cleared from standing up too quickly, (y/n) wrapped her jacket closer to her and waddled to the shared bathroom. She turned the shower nozzle to the highest setting, which could be equated to the surface temperature of the sun. While waiting for the water to warm, she removed her makeup that has been resting on her skin for far too long. Keith decided at the moment the mascara was being removed, to walk in and lean against the door frame with an adoring expression. 

“Your eyes look like a raccoon.” 

“Fuck off Kogane.” He let out a playful ‘no’ in response and squeezed her waist with one hand as he passed by to grab his toothbrush and toothpaste. Keith nudged her hip with his to get her to scoot over so he had access to the sink. During the time that Keith began to brush his teeth, (y/n) had removed the rest of her make-up, racoon eyes included. She then began to notice the toothpaste foaming around Keith’s mouth. 

“Keith, my love, have you been out in the woods recently?” He cocked his head to the side in confusion at the strange question and spit a wad of toothpaste into the sink. 

“Not recently, but I did go this past weekend. Why?”

“Because you look like you caught rabies. Think we may need to get the vaccine for it.” (Y/n) smiled mischievously at her punch line and started to undress. Keith rolled his eyes at the joke and rinsed out his mouth. He grabbed the edge of his shirt and wiped off the excess water from his face. 

“Ha-ha.” Keith sarcastically replied. “Very funny. Truly, a master comedian. Seriously, we should sign you up for the giggle hut.” 

Now in the steaming hot water, (y/n) replied. “Oh yeah? Well I think you and I should do a dou act. We could call ourselves ‘The Racoon and the Rabies Virus’! Our entire act is just Steven King’s Cujo, but with a rabid raccoon instead.” Keith let out a genuine laugh at the comment and began to exit the room. 

“Well, while you’re in there, I’ll be sure to send an email about our inquiry.” He shut the bathroom door with a soft ‘click’. 

After the shower, (y/n) emerged into the bedroom with two towels wrapped around her hair and body. She began to rifle through her closet looking for pajamas, but also kept an eye on Keith’s side of the closet. 

Keith sat on the bed with his legs bent and a tablet resting on his thighs, but his attention was solely on his partner the moment she waltzed in. A bright blush unfurled across his face as (y/n) tossed clothes onto the bed. With the last throw of a shirt, that does indeed belong to him, he snapped his attention back to the tablet and cleared his throat. 

“I-um.” Keith bit his lip and began to fidget with his hands. “You know you’re indescribably beautiful, right?” 

A wide smile bloomed across (y/n) face at the compliment, which normally is not verbally expressed by Keith since he uses physical touch or action as a medium of love. Though, along with the smile, her face also began to flush and she vocalized “I know my love. But it will always mean a lot coming from you.”

The two lovers gazed into each other as they got lost in the wonderment and adoration of the other. 

What have I done to deserve someone as wonderful as her?

How in the world did I find someone like him?

As the sweet moment passed, a slow awkwardness began to settle in the air. (Y/n) started giggling. “It’s going to be very weird now when I take off my towels to put on my clothes.” 

Keith laughed along at her comment as a playful look shot across his eyes. “No, it’s only weird if we make it weird. And my dear, this is not the first time you’ve gotten dressed in front of me, let alone have been nude.” He let out a sound of surprise as he dodged the towel that came flying at his head as (y/n) took off her hair towel. 

“Put that over your head. I do not want you to look at me while I get dressed.” Keith, while laughing, obliged her request and draped the towel over his head. (Y/n) swiftly got dressed. 

Keith looks like a sheet ghost. 

“Okay, you’re in the clear.” Keith pulled off the towel and chucked it into the hamper. He picked up his tablet and put it on the side table before he opened up his arms as an invitation. (Y/n) approached the bed with a shy composure and lifted the duvet to crawl in and cuddle into his arms. She turned and rested her cheek against his shoulder and pressed a small kiss to his collarbone. Keith in response pressed a lingering kiss atop the crown of her head. They both took an individual inhale and exhaled as they sunk into the soft comfort of each other. Keith rubbed his hand up and down her shoulder as he said “Want me to turn off the lights?” 

(Y/n) nodded in reply. Keith slapped the switch that was above the headboard and settled deeper into the pillows. 

Despite the frost that was forming spirals on the window, the cold that was seeping through the floorboards, and the radiator rumbling in the basement, the lovers were both toasty between the heat that had formed between them. As the night wore and the wind grew colder, they dozed off into a dreamless slumber.

[serendipnpipity]

Favorite DnP Tour Song Statistics

Settle round, little ducklings, do I have some statistics to share with you all!!

A grand total of 156 people participated in this survey, so thank you if you took the time to fill it out! 🧡

As a teaser, here’s a pie chart of the votes for your favorite song! We’ll be discussing this in depth in its own section but I know some of you f*ck vibe with pie charts more than the bar charts I use there…

To give you a clear vision of what we’ll be looking at, here are the categories of the upcoming analysis:

Phandometrics (community growth on a viewership & fandom scale)

Favorite Song (general)

Favorite Song vs. Phandometrics (the main hypothesis!)

Honorable Mentions (fun little quirks I noticed along the way)

Ready? Time to read on.

PHANDOMETRICS

Lag between year started watching -> year joined the phandom. This can be seen most obviously in the 2009-2015 portion of the graph, likely when the community was just building up. I went back to check individual points, and many people seem to join a year or two after starting to watch.

Three distinct peaks of phandom growth: 2015 (dnp popularity peak), 2019 (coming out), and 2023 (dnpg comeback, dnp renaissance). Pretty expected, but still cool to see!

The difference between the peaks when you look at viewership vs. phandom is interesting though! Especially 2019 seems to be a huge spike in viewership, but the phandom growth seems a little more gradual (maybe more people lurked at first, then joined the phandom in 2023 once they were more active?).

The 2012 peak is really interesting. Most popular year to start watching from this sample, apparently!

FAVORITE SONG

"The Internet is Here" won 51.3% of the votes... which didn't surprise me all that much. It's iconic, okay?

II is about half as popular, and beyond the song qualities themselves, I wonder if a contributing factor to this pattern could be its lack of availability as an officially released song.

I think Everything's Fine is so low partially bc I closed the poll before WAD released to prevent the recency effect from skewing the data. (Especially because I thought we were getting "Everything's Fine (Acoustic)" smh.)

FAVORITE SONG VS. PHANDOMETRICS

By era...

I had a hypothesis: based on the year you joined, which I now realize in my head wrongly equated with the year you were most active in, you'd be more biased towards the song of that era bc a) you were more likely to go to the tour or b) epic nostalgia hit.

Yeah, I was wrong.

When you group the eras you see that TIIH wins in almost every single group by a similar proportion to the total, which means this attitude is fairly evenly distributed amongst the phannies.

By year...

Separating by year, you begin to see that, hold up, the hypothesis could have some merit! In either 2017 or 2018 on both graphs, the II finale actually does win.

The super high TIIH votes bleeding in from 2015/2016 and from 2019 seemed to mask this pattern.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

I have no idea what happened here but both ways you slice it, Interactive Introverts was fighting for its life amongst the 2012 phannies???

We got three phannies that have been watching since 2009!! The fact that people have been sticking around so long (up to fifteen years!!! and this was only a sample of 156 of us!!!) is really heartwarming for me bc it's a testament to how strong of a community dnp have built their viewership to be.

At the end of the day, what can I say? That was a lot of statistics. I hope you enjoyed or took something away from this little survey. Lmk if you notice any other cool trends or have any theories on what the data means!

Thank you for listening to my yapping; have an orange heart.

🧡

[lesbianphan]

I know this is gonna be mushy and overly emotional and I'm sorry for oversharing a bit, but I feel like it's necessary to put into words what rewatching We're All Doomed means to me personally. I watched the kiswe premiere event live and it was one of the most fun nights I've had in a while, even though my life felt extremely hopeless at the time.

And, look, here's the thing: when the WAD premiere dropped, I had completely given up on improving things. In fact, I was very much in the 'doomed' mentality. I had long accepted that there was no way my life would get better. So Dan's message really resonated with me: it's easy to settle for being at rock bottom and thinking that's all there is for me. I was happy to see Dan doing better, but deep down I didn't truly believe his words either, not really. I did want to, but I wasn't quite there. And I don't believe them all the time, as he himself said he doesn't, and doing the show many times hammers the point home into his head.

After experiencing it, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could stop only embracing the void, but start having the courage to exist as well. Putting myself out there more, trying to make a world for myself in which I'm not the :/ emoji all the time. So I applied for the jobs, I wrote what I wanted, I unapologetically embraced the nerdy things and the fandoms I enjoyed. I decided I can choose happiness in the smallest of ways, even when it sounds silly and unimportant. Because it isn't unimportant really if it means something to me.

Rewatching the show last night showed me how much it changed my life and the big leaps it helped me take in life. I have so much more to learn, but I keep telling myself to be brave (lmao sorry had to sneak the Phil reference) and have the courage to exist. Really truly exist out in the world, not hidden inside my room. And sure, some days are harder than the others, some days I really don't like myself at all. Even in those days, though, I tell myself: all I have to do is have the courage to exist.

I went in to watch WAD with no expectations, and I feel like the message of appreciating the little moments was so monumental, it truly absolutely had a huge impact in my own life. I have a job now, and some financial stability. To be honest, I never thought I'd get this job, I might not even have applied if I wasn't in this mindset. In so many ways, Dan and Phil have profoundly changed my life, and I think WAD is just one of those big examples.

I doubt the real humans Dan and Phil will ever understand the impact they've had on this world, but I'll forever wish them the best. I'll always support them, because their creations have irrevocably changed me as a person, and as much as I like joking around and stuff, I'm just thankful that we share this existence, and we get to have fun and be forever changed by it.

Thanks @danielhowell, you'll never know how huge the impact of this show was, but I am truly crying writing this and I hope one day I get to tell you in person how much you inspired me to keep going when no one else would.

[nalyra-dreaming]

I'm sorry but I can't believe sex in ep6 even topic of discussion.

1)Why would they go to such lengths and spend their time and resources on making floaty sex, if it didn't mean anything and didn't serve any purpose? What purpose did it serve? Well, the first and last time we also saw floaty sex in ep1 and it was clear representation of connection and pleasure that sends you flying to Saturn and back. So, logically, ep6 sex too supposed to show connection and pleasure.

2) Next point (i'm not sure about this one tbh): perhaps there's one more parallel to ep1 scene - Louis "didn't consider himself a homosexual at that time" and we see cut to him having enthusiastic sex. In ep6 he was telling Daniel about being numb and we have cut to him PARTICIPATING in sex and not just lying there like a corpse.

3) They literally included Lestat stopping and checking on Louis and not doing anything before Louis kissed him. He noticed that Louis wasn't mentally there and stopped. Clear indication that Lestat wanted CONSENSUAL sex, if he truly didn't care he would just proceed to fuck Louis because Louis wasn't stopping him.

4) Give Louis a little agency, would you?(general you, not you, Nalyra) As I said, we didn't have any indication that Louis wad pressured into it, that lestat didn't care about Louis' consent and pleasure. Just because you're depressed doesn't mean you're incapable of making decisions. Louis' kiss was him reassuring lestat that he's here with him. He KNEW that lestat needed reassurance to proceed. Lestat can't read Louis' mind, he can't be 100% if Louis wants it or not, so he has to rely on what Louis TELLS him with words and body language. Louis told lestat with his actions that he wants him to proceed. That's Louis' decision, like it or not

5) I know fandom likes to act like Claudia is mentally 14 forever, but for majority of story she's grown woman. I'm actually not sure if she truly thinks Louis wouldn't mind her being in his head while they're having sex or she's actively disregarding his boundaries (that he didn't establish) but there's fact: it's weird. Maybe she thinks she's helping Louis to "cope" with sex because she's projecting her trauma with Bruce on Loustat (which is understandable!) but for me Louis' sounds uncomfortable, and resigned, half-heartedly trying to deflect Claudia. "Anywhere sounds like nowhere" - for me it was clear that he doesn't really want to leave and doesn't want to have this conversation but he fails to say it outright and shut down Claudia. So he just makes up excuses not to leave, avoids telling NO, and blocks his mind when Lestat notices that something is wrong.

So, my point, that cut from Bruce to Lestat was Claudia's mind coming to comparison. She thinks Louis does it to appease lestat, she's probably tries to help telling Louis about her escape plan, she views Louis' reluctants as fear of Lestat and that's it, when probably main reason is Louis simply not wanting to leave.

I'm so sorry for long essay, hope you don't mind! Love your work and blog:)

:) Glad you like.

And yeah... I cannot believe we're at this point again/still either.

Exactly. This is a deliberate thing, a deliberate connection to the best sex Louis had. As said before, it carries meaning.

Well, I mean, there are a lot more instances of Louis saying something and the show showing us something else. Or vice versa. That is... exactly the point. Louis is telling the tale for an effect. And that effect was to lead to the justified "murder night". But the why will be part of season 2.

I know

Louis is (not just) depressed because of Lestat. He is deep in the rite of passage. He addresses that on the bench. And yeah.. for some reason Louis' never gets his agency in these discussions. Because he could have moved away. He could have left. But he did not want to. He stayed right there, in Rue Royale during those 6 years (for example). Where Lestat could find him. But I digress. Louis does have agency, indeed. And it is often dismissed for some reason -.-

Claudia's thinking is very black and white, pun not intended. It's stark contrast. She hates and loves with the full power of puberty, at all times, no matter her mental age. Her hatred for Lestat colors her perception of Louis' love for him - she just cannot imagine Louis loving him. Oh she understands it. But to her Lestat is like Bruce, the worst of the worst, and she cannot fathom that there are actually vampires out there... who are much, much worse. That is part of the horror, that she just cannot... imagine, because ultimately Lestat and Louis raised her as a child and then a loved family member - not as a coven member. She has no point of reference, unfortunately. And no, Louis neither wants to have that conversation (but he is too nice to shut it down), nor does he want to leave. And that just... flies right over her head.

Neither Claudia nor Louis actually fear Lestat, and definitely not even after the fight. The car scene made that quite clear, imho.

Oh, they are angry at him, and justified in that anger. But fear? Nope.

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Cry for the Moon

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |

Pairing: Zuko x firebender!reader

Warnings: some strong language here and there

A/N: I am sorry for the long wait, the inspiration was failing and I didn't want to write something half-heartedly just for the sake of posting something. This is a long chapter and I loved writing it! Hope you enjoy this one as well, let me know what you think about it in the comments!

Taglist: @annonymatic @yoongiesstar @lost-inthe-v0id @lokigodofmyheart @4l3x1s @potato87123 @asciendo @angelruinz @unamused-boss @junieshohoho @yourlivewire @itszzmoon @coolgirl458 @vyliie @6000-fandoms @aerikim246 @feitansrisingsun @xenop0p @saikikusouswife @marsbars09

Using a tank train to chase the Avatar and his friends could have been the best idea you had come up with so far.

With the giant flying bison shedding its white fur all over the place while it flew, it had been quite easy to keep track of them – actually, it had been rather too easy. The whole night, the tank train didn’t let the Avatar and his friends get the slightest bit of sleep.

You had been on their necks all the time, just like a shadow following.

Azula put her hand into the water to grab a hold of some patches of fur, she lifted to examine them. They had chased the Avatar and his friends to a river side surrounded by a forest. Given that they were sleep deprived and too tired, they weren’t going to last longer.

“Wads of wet fur.” Mai spoke dryly. “How delightful.”

Some birds were singing under the warm sun – it was a nice, warm sunny day which reminded you of the upcoming summer.

“They are not wads, they are more like bundles, or bunches?” Ty Lee seemed thoughtful as she tried to find the right word to describe the fur swimming in the river. She scratched her head. “It’s got an ‘uh’ sound.”

You giggled. “I know this feeling – you will keep think about that word until you finally find it.” You grimaced. “It is super annoying.”

“I know!” Ty Lee agreed with you as she swung her arms in an exaggerated manner, her long braid swinging in the process.

“Clumps?” Mai suggested with the same, dry tone.

Ty Lee’s grey eyes shone with happiness as she clasped her hands together. “Clumps! They are clumps!” She hugged Mai, who didn’t even bother returning the embrace. You rolled your eyes at her dullness – it drove you insane sometimes, which made you wonder how you had managed to be best friends with her for all those years in the first place.

You were a passionate individual and you expected your friends, or the important people in your life in general, to share your passion and enthusiasm from time to time. However, you didn’t recall experiencing such an occasion with Mai.

Turning your attention to Azula, who was standing by the river, you raised an eyebrow at her. “All the fur in the river makes you wonder whether that thing simply flew over or instead dived into the water.”

Mai pointed in the direction of the trail, which lead into the forest. “The trail goes this way.”

For a moment, Azula looked in the direction of the trail as she carefully considered her options, then she looked upwards. Following her gaze, you too spotted the broken treetops. A frown appeared on your face. “Well, I don’t know many creatures that can cause something like this.”

Upon hearing your remark, Mai and Ty Lee looked into the direction you were pointing at. Perhaps they finally realised that the bison was causing them all the trouble by shedding its fur, you thought as you crossed your hands over your chest. They could have washed it, which would explain all the fur in the river.

“The Avatar is trying to give us the slip.” Azula said, you felt like you two had the same or at least similar chain of thoughts. The Princess pointed to the broken treetops. “You three head in that direction and keep your eye out for the bison.” Then, she turned her gaze to the fur trail. “I will follow this trail.”

You placed your right hand on her shoulder. “Do you believe that the Avatar awaits you alone, on his own?”

Azula nodded. “It would make sense for the other three to take the bison, the Avatar can move more easily when he is alone.”

“Oh, yeah – flying, you are right.” You said, you tended the forget the fact that he was the last airbender. “In that case, you will be perfectly fine on your own. I would rather accompany you; however, with the new earthbender girl in their group, I believe the girls need a firebender on their side.”

After a while you all mounted your mongoose lizards and started riding towards the different paths, a specific pair of traces caught your attention. They were the traces of an ostrich horse. You raised an eyebrow as you turned back to look at the trace. I though he had lost us along the way some time.

During the early hours of the morning, you had noticed someone following the tank train from afar. Even though the distance was simply too much for you to make out who the person was, there had been one very prominent feature on their face that gave out their identity almost immediately.

The scar.

However, after a few hours, you had lost sight of him; hence, you didn’t bother letting Azula know that Zuko had been using your trail to hunt down the Avatar. As it turned out, he wasn’t really gone – he had probably taken a short cut. And considering the traces, he was headed the same way as Azula.

You stopped your mongoose lizard abruptly, causing Mai and Ty Lee to stop as well. Mai sent you an annoyed look. “What is it?”

“I think I saw some earthbending traces back there, inside the forest.” You lied without even thinking twice. “The earthbender girl must have taken a separate way – you two go after the bison and the Watertribe people, I will hunt down the earthbender.”

Mai shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

Ty Lee waved at you before going back on track. “Good luck – be careful with the flying rocks!”

You smiled softly at her words. “And you watch out for the waterbender!”

After making sure the girls were both out of sight, you turned your mongoose lizard back and started following the track Zuko’s ostrich horse left. This time, I am going to face you instead of going back home in tears. You thought with a determined expression on your face, your amber eyes lacked the slightest bit of warmth inside them. And you are going to answer for what you have done to me.

[Time Skip]

Zuko shouted in a mixture of surprise and fear as you jumped in front of his ostrich horse with your mongoose lizard.

He was wearing a brown, sleeveless robe with a dark green, long-sleeved shirt and dark green pants underneath. You couldn’t help yourself but raise an eyebrow upon seeing how different his hair looked – it wasn’t in a top not anymore. Apparently, after your last encounter with him, he had cut off his hair and let it grow longer.

Bringing yourself back to the present moment and to the task at hand, you got off the mongoose lizard and crossed your hands over your chest. The long sleeves of your crimson, wrap shirt dangled with the wind. “Wipe that shocked expression off from your face, Zuko – we both knew this day would come.”

Your words had been enough to push the shock away from his features, which left its place to something that resembled mostly fury. The Banished Prince dismounted his ostrich horse with a frown. “What do you want?”

“Answers,” you spoke with a voice as cold as ice, your amber eyes were dark. “You are going to answer for what you have done to me that very day.”

At first, Zuko’s eyes widened with you mentioning the day he left the Fire Nation; however, he quickly gained control over his emotions and put back the frown. “I don’t have any time to waste,” he muttered with an annoyed tone as he tried to walk past you. Without even thinking, you punched forward, sending a wave of flames towards him.

Once again, Zuko was taken aback by your cold-heartedness. When he came back to his senses, it was almost too late – the Banished Prince rolled backwards to escape the flames in time.

“I didn’t ask whether you wanted to go through with this or not,” you said coolly as you broke your stance to stand straight. “After all, why should I show the slightest bit of concern to someone who didn’t even flinch while shattering my whole soul to a million pieces?!”

Towards the end, your voice became louder and louder, until the point you ended up screaming at his face.

Zuko spoke your name softly, which had your heart melting almost immediately as if he hadn’t been the cause of all that had hurt you over the last years. “Let this go, please – it has been three years and…”

Not even letting him finish, you interrupted him – the fury was raising within you, blinding your sight, and blurring your mind. At that moment, all you wanted to do was to scream out every buried thought, every silenced cry at him until you couldn’t speak anymore.

“So, is time supposed to magically make me forget everything you did, everything you said?” You asked scornfully as you pointed at him with your index finger in an accusing manner. “You… You said I was a burden, a baggage, a fucking deadweight!”

Zuko said your name once again. “Please… I am…”

You were shaking your head almost hysterically, you could feel the tears running down your cheeks. This was the mental breakdown you had been trying to avoid having for weeks now. “How can you expect me to forget that?!”

[Flashback]

“Please, let me come with you.” You whispered as you tried to turn your face away – you kind of felt ashamed for you were crying in front of Zuko’s whole crew. He cupped your face and made you look at him as he gently wiped away the tears leaving you amber eyes. “Zuko, I… I don’t know how to live here without you. I have… I have had you with me ever since I could remember…”

Even though his left eye was bandaged as a result of his father’s unthinkable cruelty, you could still see the tears forming in his right eye. But he managed to control his emotions not to show any weaknesses in front of his crew. “Love, we have talked about this,” he whispered towards your lips before leaving a small kiss. “I will be back before you know it. I promise.”

You shook your head – you didn’t want to stay in the Fire Nation while he went on this impossible journey to find the Avatar, who had been presumably already dead for centuries! A part of you knew that his journey was probably never going to end.

The simplest thought of not getting to see Zuko ever again made you want to throw out. You couldn’t imagine your life without him for you hadn’t known it otherwise. He had always been there, with you, and all your life, you grew up with the belief that you were going to become his wife someday.

The arranged marriage, which had been decided when you were born, was the main reason for you to grow up with Zuko – yes, but it also allowed this purest love of all to bloom between you two. From childhood best friends to childhood crushes and to young lovers.

He carried a piece of your heart and whether he wanted it or not, a part of you was going with him.

“Why?” You asked with a low voice. “Why won’t you take me with you?”

Zuko placed his lips on your forehead to leave a small kiss before speaking. “Your place is here, in the Fire Nation, where you can continue your studies and your training to pursue your dreams.” Slowly, he turned his look away from your eyes. “I would never forgive myself if I took that away from you.”

You pressed your lips against each other to silence a sob that dared to escape. “My place is with you…”

“My decision is final,” Zuko spoke with a soft voice, which carried still enough authority to put an end to your continuous attempts to change his mind. “But I am going to miss you more than anything...”

It felt impossible to form words, let alone talk. Hence, you placed your lips on top of Zuko’s instead of wasting time talking.

After the long farewell, you went home quickly to get the small gift you wanted to give to Zuko before he set sail in a few hours. You wanted to give him something that would bring him good luck on his mission and also make him remember you every time he looked at it.

It was the small replica of a red dragon made of metal, which hung at the end of a black chain. You thought Zuko could hang it by his desk or by his bed, keeping it in his personal space where he didn’t need to wear his façade anymore.

As you approached the ship, you could hear some voices coming from up on board. Upon hearing someone from the crew mentioning your name, you stopped in your tracks to listen to what was being said. You could already see Zuko standing with his back facing you, talking to that crewmate.

“My Prince, please forgive me for asking but,” the crewmate spoke with a respectful tone. “Why didn’t you allow her to join us?”

You heard Zuko heave a sigh before speaking. “I am afraid she would only be a burden to us – like baggage, she would just slow us down.” The gift of good luck you held slowly slipped between your fingers and fell onto the ground. Zuko shook his head. “I cannot allow any deadweight on board – and if any of you should become one, I will not hesitate to send them back!”

Biting your lower lip to silence your sobs, you turned back and ran away without even saying anything to Zuko, without facing him and without wishing him one last goodbye. You wanted to believe he was lying but the way he talked as he uttered those venomous words had been just too real, too true.

After that day, nothing was going to be the same for you.

[Flashback ends]

Wiping the tears away, you asked with a weak voice. “Why?”

Zuko turned his eyes away, his shame radiated off his body. “Does it matter?” He muttered. “After what I made you go through, does it really matter why I said what I said?”

You shook your head as a hysterical laughter left your lips. “Still, you are incapable of looking me in the eye and say it – say that you thought I was weak.” You didn’t realise it as the flames started to form around your clenched fists. “Say that you have lied to me every single day!” Control slowly slipped away from your fingertips. “You have never even loved me!”

What came next had been a shock to both of you.

As you screamed your sorrows away, you shot the flames – which had been growing around your fists – directly at Zuko. This was probably the very first time that you attacked him the same way you would attack any of your enemies. The reflection of the flames was visible in Zuko’s amber eyes and he seemed to be paralyzed – he had never met this side of you, he had never really been on the other side.

If he had dodged the flames with his firebending a second too late… Well, let’s say it would have been really unpleasant.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Zuko screamed at you, still not returning your attack as you circled each other. “Why would you attack me like that? And… and why would you say that I have never loved you?”

“If you had loved me, even just a little,” you told him as you stopped moving in a circle to point at him with an accusing manner. “You would have never hurt me the way you did.” Raising an eyebrow at his direction, you asked sarcastically. “Do you like the person you have turned me into?”

Zuko shook his head. “No, I didn’t do this to you,” he said with a low voice. “This is you under Azula’s influence.”

His words made you throw your head back and let out a laughter that had the hints of condescending, amusement, and little bit… craziness?

“Oh, you do believe that Azula is manipulating me into being one of her puppets?” You asked with genuine curiosity in your voice as you realised the seriousness surrounding Zuko’s features. “My dear Zuko, you have never been more wrong in your life – I am with Azula because I want to, because I deeply care about her. And no, this,” you pointed at yourself, “is not her doing. I should thank you for giving me the push to become more invincible than ever.”

It was hard to understand what was going on inside Zuko’s mind for his amber eyes didn’t give it all away; however, you could feel the hints of longing, disappointment, and jealousy circling around him all at once. It felt like an emotional turmoil.

His voice almost cracked when he spoke. “So, you… replaced me with her?”

At first, you wanted to say that you had replaced him with Shuzi, but you quickly realised that it wasn’t true. Shuzi had a different spot, and it was under no circumstances close to that of Zuko – his place wasn’t completely occupied. However, it wouldn’t be wrong to say that Azula was the only person closest to that very place in your heart.

You pursed your lips. “Well, you can say that – to a certain extent. Speaking of Azula,” you moved away from Zuko’s way as you walked towards your mongoose lizard. “Despite how much I do want to fight you, it is Azula’s destiny to be the one who faces you. Thus, I am going to let you be on your way.” Upon seeing the shocked expression on Zuko’s face, you shrugged. “I have already given her a head start.”

Remembering what his main goal was – he had completely forgot about the Avatar – Zuko quickly mounted his ostrich horse. “You were wrong though,” he said as he rode past you, his voice was low but still, you could hear him. “I did love you. Every single day.”

With that, Zuko disappeared from your sight, leaving you with more questions than you initially had before finally facing him.

[Time Skip]

After Zuko was gone, you returned to join Mai and Ty Lee, only to find both of them soaking wet, sitting by the river. Using your firebending to dry them both, you told that the earthbender girl had escaped from you by going underground like a badgermole. Not long after, Azula joined you three as well, she seemed quite tired.

As you all rode back to the tank train on your mongoose lizards, the Princess told you what had happened: how the enemies and the traitors had worked together to corner her and how she had shot Uncle Iroh with fire to create enough diversion to escape. You couldn’t help yourself but feel terrible for Iroh – you didn’t think he deserved to be Azula’s victim – but you kept your thoughts to yourself.

“Mai told me you didn’t go with her and Ty Lee,” Azula said as you two walked towards the tank train. Mai and Ty Lee were already inside. “Did you really chase the eartbender girl?”

You shook your head, you weren’t going to lie to Azula. “I actually chased Zuko, I just needed a valid excuse to go on my own way without… you know, letting Mai involve herself as well.”

A small frown formed on Azula’s face as she stopped walking. “Zuko? How did you know he was following us?”

“I saw him earlier today from a distance, then he disappeared so I didn’t really think he could keep up with our pace.” You explained as you crossed your arms over your chest. After everything you had gone through, you felt exhausted – not physically, but rather emotionally. “But I saw him in the woods once again after you went your own way. I wanted to finally face him and be free of everything weighing me down.”

Azula nodded at your words, the firm expression slowly disappeared, leaving itself to curiosity. “I understand – in that case, I forgive you for not following my orders.” The edge of your lips curled upwards. “Did it work? Are you finally free of all that weight now?”

You nodded with a big smile forming on your face, almost reaching your amber eyes. Almost.

“I screamed at him everything I have been wanting to say to him ever since… you know, that day.” You spoke with a lower voice, not wanting to be heard by anyone. Shaking your head, you continued. “He is not even capable of owning up to his actions – he couldn’t tell me why he had… said all those things about me.”

Azula shrugged with an unamazed manner. “Well, what did you expect from Zuzu in the first place?” She said as she rested her left hand on the small of your back, leading you two into the tank train. “Still, I am glad that you are now lighter than ever.”

You forced the fake smile back onto your lips.

The problem was that you felt you carried more weight now that you had faced Zuko.

Over the years, you had made yourself deeply believe that he had never really loved you – this had been the only explanation you could find for his actions, your coping mechanism. However, now that you knew he had loved you all along, you felt more lost than ever.

More lost, more confused, more vulnerable.

[manchesterau]

"goddd i hope they pull a wad and we get cute photos of tit on film plsss" it took me a sec to figure out what you were saying here I thought this was a euphemism I didn't understand at first 😭

PLSSSS there are so many damn abbreviations in this fandom and they just keep adding more 😭😭😭

but im also taking this ask as a chance to talk about what i want and that's cute coupley photos of them like japhan/wad but for tit tour dnp pls if you see this get that fucking film camera out!!!

[starstruckkittensweets]

“Everything” Pt. I | Dabi x Reader

“You love him—everything he was, everything he is, and everything he will be.”

Fandom: My Hero Academia  Pairing: Dabi x Reader  Words: 13.9k 

A/N: I’m a slut for Dabi. Scratch that—I am a MASSIVE slut for Dabi. And that couch scene in 6x17 only solidified my obsession with him. I have no excuse for this fic, except that it’s angsty, filthy, and way too long for its own good. I just have too many thoughts on Dabi as both a character and a love interest and I shamelessly projected myself onto Reader the entire time writing this. I wanna hold him and tell him it’s all gonna be okay, but at the same time I wanna fuck his brains out like there’s no tomorrow. The second half will be uploaded later this week, once I finish editing it. I hope you enjoy! (Now let me go hide my face in shame...)

Also a huge thank you to my dear friend @lostinwildflowers​, who’s just as thirsty for Dabi as I am! Birch, it’s because of you cheering me on that this fic finally got finished! (And further down the rabbit hole we go!) 

Warnings: 18+ only (minors please DNI), fem-bodied reader, spoilers for Season 6 (up to Episode 17 at least), Reader and Dabi may or may not be in the healthiest mindset to fuck right now (that won’t stop em though), Reader is somewhat dependent on Dabi, oral sex (f. receiving), face sitting, vaginal sex, spanking, quirk use, branding, crying (Reader is a bit of a crybaby but she means well), hair pulling, fingering, blood tears, Dabi’s an asshole and doesn’t want to admit that Reader actually loves and cares for him 

Part I | Part II 

You’ve been to this mansion exactly three times before.

The first time was in the middle of the fall, when the leaves were crisp and the winds were brisk. It was an old shabby building in the middle of nowhere, worn out and run down by the countless inhibitors that came before you. At the time Dabi had brushed it off, claiming they were no longer a threat to you, that it was now the perfect little getaway from the rest of the world. (As long as the rest of the League was off elsewhere, of course.)

He had wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you down on that ratty old couch, the one with faded gold carvings and fluff poking out of the torn cushions. You had been a little wary at first; it wasn’t exactly the most pleasant smell in the world. But he kept you busy with his burning kisses and wandering hands, and eventually you dozed off right there in his arms, with his chest pressed against your back.

The second time was in the dead of winter, just before the New Year. You had forced him down on that damn couch and pressed every wad of gauze you could find to the fresh wounds on his arms and torso. The bastard had been too rough and ripped his staples again, a thin trickle of red seeping down his skin. You had yelled at him for that, as though you were his mother and not just the girl he’d preferred to keep his bed warm. So loud your voice rang throughout the halls of the mansion, enough for Twice and Toga to peek their heads around the corner to see what all the fuss was about.

The third time was a little more pleasant, on the eve of the eighteenth of January. A night of strolling around the city too far from home led you back to the quiet mansion—luckily you were the only ones there at the time. The two of you were tipsy on whatever booze Dabi had managed to get his hands on that day; your lips were thrumming from his kisses, your body as light as a feather in his arms. He carried you into a secluded room on the second floor, the one he’d claimed for his own so long ago, and his fingers pressing into the meat of your thighs. Before you knew it you were being crushed beneath him on the bed, moaning his name into his mouth as he slipped your shirt over your head.

Neither of you awoke until late the next morning, when he oh-so generously accompanied you on the walk back to your apartment, pulling a worn black hoodie over your head to hide the bruises on your neck and arms. It was frayed at the sleeves and smelled of smoke, but it was the warmest thing you’d ever worn in your life.

And now you’re standing outside this mansion a fourth time, with that old hoodie hugging your chest, keeping out the last winter chill of the season.

The League has never kept the doors locked—both for easy access and knowing just how they managed to wipe out the last group that lived in this mansion—so it’s not hard to slip in through the front. The halls are dark and silent, the scent of musk so strong you cover your nose with the sleeve of the hoodie. Not like smoke is much better, but still…

And that’s when you hear it: a faint chuckle, deep and raspy, at the very end of the hall. The slightest flicker of blue coming to life among the shadows.

You swallow once, stilling your trembling fingers in the pockets of the hoodie, and start to walk forward.

He’s standing there in the middle of the living room (at least that’s what Toga calls it; it only has a couch and a few dressers for decorations, mostly the knives she likes to keep on display for the rest of you to see). Your jaw drops at the sight of marred skin, a deep purple shade stretching across the length of his back, over his arms and down to his hipbones. He grunts as he presses down hard on one of the staples in his wrist, locking it back into place with a sigh.

You gasp, but he doesn’t turn around at the sound. Instead he rolls his shoulders back, cocks his head as he focuses on another staple splitting his skin apart.

“Dabi.” Your voice is a whisper, too quiet for him to hear. Or maybe he’s just ignoring me. You clear your throat and try again: “Dabi, you’re hurt. I can—”

He says your name then, and your blood turns to ice in your veins. He heaves a sigh as he tugs out a rusted staple from his wrist, flicking it to the ground before reaching for a fresh one on the dresser closest to him.

“I told you to stay away. So go home.”

Your breath catches in your throat; your heartbeat echoes in your ears. The black hoodie suddenly feels too snug around your neck as you glare at him, at the ragged skin his flames have left behind.

“You’re not serious. Two weeks—no, three weeks of complete radio silence, and that’s all you have to say to me?” It’s getting harder to stare at him when your eyesight’s getting all blurry. You brush your eyes with the sleeve of the hoodie, but that just makes you feel even worse. Damn smoke.

He doesn’t answer, only winces as another new staple buries itself into the skin of his wrist. You take a step forward, ready to clean the blood off his back or smack him upside the head, you’re not sure which one just yet.

But then he’s staring at you from over his shoulder, and all you can see are the patches beneath his eyes, the fresh burns stretching past the silver staples in his cheeks.

“Why are you here?” he asks, and you shiver at the forlorn look in those beautiful blue eyes. “You’re supposed to be home by now, it’s getting late. Leave already.”

“No.” The words pour out of you so fast you barely register what you’re saying. “Not again. I’m not leaving after you—” You swallow the lump in your throat, well aware of those eyes on you. “…After seeing that video—I couldn’t even…”

Fuck, it seems so long ago. Nearly a month of silence from Dabi, of sitting in your apartment wondering if you should leave the window unlocked for him even though he hates it, of checking your phone for any messages from unknown numbers, of constantly wondering if there was anything you could’ve said or done to keep him from walking out that night—

To staring at the little TV in your living room, a broken mug lying at your feet, your second cup of coffee soaking through the carpet. To feeling the tears well up in your eyes as you saw him, burn scars and all, revealing the truth about himself and the family he’d come from.

“Touya.”

It used to be your little secret. Something he mumbled into your hair as you patched him up one night, assuring him and yourself that he wouldn’t die. Something you’d panted into his mouth as he pressed you into the mattress in your bedroom, curling his fingers around your own. Something he’d trusted you with.

And now everyone knows about it; his family, his story, his name. Everyone knows and he can’t take it back.

But a part of you thinks he doesn’t want to take it back. That wild look in his eye, that gleeful smile that nearly rips his staples apart. The world is in shambles because of him and he fucking loves it.

“Touya,” you try again, “let me help you. You…you need to be cleaned up, I can take care of you…”

He makes no move to run as you step closer, hands barely brushing his ragged arms. Tears are spilling down your cheeks, mirroring the trickles of blood sliding down his chest. You can remember burning your hand on the stove so many years ago, even when your mother warned you to be careful. You had whined about the pain until she wrapped it up and gave you a kiss, chiding you for acting like such a child.

You can’t imagine being burned like this—your body being eaten by your own flames—the thought makes your stomach roll into itself.

“C’mon.” You pull him closer to the dresser, grimacing at the tray of fresh staples in front of you (as well as its bloodied twin). A familiar dance for the two of you. “I got you.”

You’re safe with me.

He’s silent as you clean out his wrists, leaving bloody tissues all across the dresser and floor, wincing at every bit of silver biting into his skin. Open, close, open, close. He doesn’t complain, not even once as you try your best to stitch him up. You keep your mouth shut, even though your tongue is burning with all the things you want to say. Too scared that even the slightest bit of noise will chase him off again, and you’ll be left at square one once more.

When the blood is cleaned off and the staples are secured, you steal a glance at the palm of his hand. Cringing as the rough purple skin stretches all the way up to his fingers. Can he still feel anything? Or are his nerves shot for good?

The thought makes your stomach churn. Without thinking you lean into his palm, splaying his fingers across your cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sor—”

“For what?”

His voice is rough, and when he pulls his hand away you want to burst into tears. He gives your head a messy pat, mussing up your hair before walking to the other end of the room.

“You got nothin’ to feel sorry for, doll. So don’t go saying shit that’s not true.”

Your tongue feels heavy against my lips. “W-what?”

“You patched me up, I won’t bleed out. So you can go already.” He sprawls himself across that ratty old couch, legs hanging off the arm as he drapes a hand across his forehead. “Leave.”

“But… I don’t want to…”

Suddenly you feel like a child again, clinging to your parents and begging them for just five more minutes of fun before bedtime. There’s a horrible nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach, laughing at you, taunting you for how stupid you are.

He doesn’t want you here. Just get out of here before you make things worse.

But you know that if you walk out that door right now, you may never see this man in the flesh ever again.

You can’t let him get away. Not again—not ever.

“I’m staying.” Dabi’s eyes are practically glowing in the dark, watching your every move as you cross the room to follow him. “You don’t get to tell me that after all this time. So I’m staying, whether you like it or not. So stop trying to get me to leave!”

The chuckle he gives sends a chill down your spine. He leans further into the couch and rests his arm against his forehead.

“Everyone leaves sooner or later, dollface.”

Oh.

That’s where his mind is at right now.

He likes to put up a front. Likes to hide behind sarcastic comments and unimpressed looks. Shows off his power any chance he gets just to remind everyone how strong he is, how easily he could incinerate everyone with a single flick of his hand.

But you can still see the little boy with white hair, begging for his father’s approval, masking his sadness with a smile.

“…Well, I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon.” You flump down on the floor with a huff, back pressing into the worn out couch, legs sprawled out in front of you. “So get used to having me around.”

He doesn’t seem happy, but at least he’s not trying to get you to leave anymore. For now, at least.

The two of you bask in the silence of the shadowy room, neither one acknowledging the other. You pull your knees up to your chest and keep your eyes forward, staring at the sliver of moonlight that seeps through the single window ahead, as Dabi’s soft breathing lulls you into a semi-relaxed state.

There are so many things you want to tell him, to ask him, to scream at him. Why didn’t you come home after that night? What did I do wrong to make you stay away? Why do you insist on pushing me away when you know all I want to do is help you?

It’s still so raw, the memory of his last night in your apartment. Early February—just two days shy of Valentine’s Day, the prick—at close to three in the morning. One minute you were sleeping soundly in your bed with his arms wrapped around your waist; the next you were begging him not to leave, fat tears streaming down your cheeks.

Demanding to know why he decided to leave after all this time, after so many months of bliss. Recalling the promise you’d made to him on his birthday in this very house, in the old room he’d claimed for himself. And when that didn’t work you started throwing things—pillows, clothes, his stupid pack of cigarettes—anything you could get your hands on. Anything to get him to stay, even for just one more night.

But he’d pulled on his shirt and walked out the door—the first time he’d ever used the door instead of the window. He left you there in the living room, tearing at your hair as your chest wracked with sobs.

I hate you. I hate you, I hate you, I fucking—

“Still have that shitty hoodie, huh?”

His voice is raspy when he speaks, a low sound that snaps your head from your arms. You try not to look at him as you nod, hugging your knees closer to your chest. A whiff of smoke crosses your nose when you tug the collar of the hoodie over your mouth, as though it were a scarf.

“Looks good on you, doll.” Dabi gives a breathless laugh, and it’s hard not to turn your head to look at him. Of all the things he could talk to you about, he chooses that?

Maybe it’s just his way of appeasing you, as though you’ll forget the last few weeks ever happened.

“Better on you than me; I always hated wearing it. Too stuffy and hot. It always got—”

“Caught on your staples, I know.” The words are already falling from your mouth; no matter how hard you grip your arms or bite your tongue, they just keep on coming. “That’s why you don’t like to wear sweaters, they make you itch and you overheat way too fast.”

Silence—for a moment you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing. You swallow hard and twist your head, nails biting into the sleeves of the hoodie. His arm is over his eyes, but you can still see the slight quiver in his jaw when you start talking.

“I know you can’t stand being in a car for more than ten minutes, or else you’ll start to feel sick. I know you like to drink but not too much, because you hate the way it makes you feel like you’re losing control of your body. You hate the way your head starts swimming and you have to lay down with a rag on your head. I know you prefer Camels but you can’t always find them, and that’s why I keep a stash of them on the kitchen counter, in case you end up running out.”

Your hands are clenched into fists now, your heart leaping in your throat with every word you say. You have no idea if he’s even listening, or if he’s fallen asleep from exhaustion or boredom. But there’s no stopping the words from spilling out, your tongue burning with every syllable, every breath you suck in just to calm your racing heart.

“You like sleeping on your left side rather than your right because you think it helps you fall asleep faster—and it doesn’t hurt as much, the worst of your scars are on your right side. You’re a fan of that special cherry-scented shampoo in my bathroom, the one you always use whenever you beg me to bathe with you. You still have that stupid keychain I got for you last Christmas, the one that splits into two halves of a heart. And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you leave out some food for the stray cats in the alley behind my apartment—because I know it’s you. Only you could leave a tray of cat food smelling like an ashtray, dummy.”

That was quite a sight to wake up to: a ragtag group of kittens right below your kitchen window, lapping up food from a little silver tin—something that had definitely not been there the night before. And while the whole alleyway smelled of smoke and ash, there wasn’t a single cigarette stub to be found on the pavement. Too worried one of the cats might decide to chew on them, probably. As much as he tried to downplay it, Dabi did have a soft spot for animals. He had a heart of his own, somewhere in that scarred, ragged chest of his.

Which is why this whole situation hurts you so much. You know he cares about whatever kind of bond the two of you have. You know he’s so much more than what he claims to be. You know that deep down inside him, he’s still the boy with the bright blue eyes—Touya Todoroki, the boy who dreamed of becoming a hero one day.

I know you, so let me in. I’ll still be by your side, no matter what you do.

“And I know that I could never leave you when you’re in pain like this, even if you tell me to.” It’s hard to keep your voice soft, but you try your best anyway. Anything for him. “Even if you scream at me and try to scare me, I’ll never leave you. Not now, and not ever. So please, just…”—suddenly there’s a lump in your throat, your eyes growing blurry at the edges—“…let me help you.”

He could scoff and brush you off. He could glare and demand for you to get out. He could crush you so easily, referring to the last actual conversation you had, where he claimed you were nothing more than a way for him to blow off some steam. He could incinerate this entire mansion, taking you down with it—and quite possibly himself. But no matter what happens, or what he may do, you have to stand your ground. You made a promise not only to him, but to yourself as well. To keep the two of you safe, even if the entire world stood against you. To love him until you took your dying breath, and to trust in him to do the same for you.

I don’t care what you’ve done or who you are, or even what you plan to do. No matter what happens, I will always have a special place in my heart for you.

Those were the exact words you’d said to him on his birthday, in this very mansion. And you still meant every single one of them, as if you’d said them just moments ago.

“…C’mere.”

Your mouth falls open when he finally moves his arm away from his face, only to drum his fingers against his bare chest. Those blue eyes are unnaturally bright, beckoning you closer—as though he’s the devil you’ve been warned to stay away from your entire life.

It’s a bit awkward at first, stumbling off the floor and crawling up the length of his body. But there’s no word of protest, no sign of discomfort as you throw one leg over his waist, settling down on his hips as gently as you can. Suddenly those scarred palms are stretching out to you, and you lean in to press a line of kisses across the fresh purple marks.

“Stubborn little shit.” The words are harsh but there’s no bite to them—only a soft glint in those beautiful eyes of his. “It’s too late for you to head back home already, isn’t it?”

You give him a shrug, dragging your mouth to the inner part of his wrist. “I guess so. Like hell am I leaving you here all alone with those injuries.”

You both know he’s lived through worse, a few misplaced staples aren’t going to kill him overnight. But you’ll take any excuse you can get to stay with him, even for just a bit longer.

He hums at that, leaning his head against the arm of the couch. His fingers are warm against your skin, brushing across your forehead as he sweeps a few stray pieces of hair off to the side. When he’s done you take ahold of his wrist again, pressing a few kisses against the fresh staples in his palm, as soft as you can manage. That gets a laugh from him—short and breathless, but a laugh nonetheless.

“Never know when to quit, do you? You keep chasin’ after me, even when I tell you not to. I thought you had a brain in that pretty little head of yours, doll.”

“I do, and I could’ve easily let you bleed out from your wounds.” You run your hands across the staples on his chest, down his abdomen before working your way back up his arms. “But I didn’t, because I’m just that kind of person.”

“Hm, a good girl who’s got a soft spot for a dangerous villain?”

“You’re not a villain,” you tell him, even though you both know that’s a blatant lie. “And I don’t have just a soft spot for you. I…”

One minute the words are there on your tongue—and the next your lips are pressed together, too afraid to speak as those burning blue eyes bleed into your own.

I love you. That’s all you have to say; three simple words, and your fate is sealed.

So…why are they so fucking hard to say out loud?

You do love him. You love him so much your chest aches whenever you look at him. It hurts whenever you know he’s putting himself in danger, risking his life to destroy what made him this way in the first place. He tries to hide it with a cocky smirk and a few flirtatious comments, but you know him better than that. This is the same man who huddles deep under the blankets of your bed with you, even though he claims they’re too scratchy against his skin. The same man who rests his head in your lap and lets you play with his hair, who will sometimes ask about whatever book you’re currently reading at the moment. The same man you’ve caught, on at least two separate occasions, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, hunched over the running sink, a thin trail of blood trickling from the staples embedded beneath his eyes. The same man who doesn’t even protest as you wrap your arms around him and lead him back to bed, reminding him of just how much he’s needed—how much you need him—with gentle kisses and soft-spoken words.

You love him—everything he was, everything he is, and everything he will be.

He reaches up and presses his thumb and forefinger into your chin, bringing your face down to his. Apparently you’re taking too long to respond.

“Listen to me, doll.” A shiver sweeps down your spine at the familiar pet name. “Are you really willing to sign your life away for a piece of shit like me?”

There he goes again, degrading himself and his worth. Sometimes you wish you could meet the man who did this to him. Stare his father straight in the eye and demand to know what prompted him to treat his own son this way. As though if he wasn’t the epitome of perfection, he was just a worthless waste of space.

“We’ve been over this, Touya.” You can see the twitch of his jaw at his name, his real name spilling from your lips. “You are not a piece of shit. And I wouldn’t be signing anything away; I knew damn well what I was getting myself into when I let you kiss me for the first time.”

A memory from so long ago, of drunken laughter and his heavy coat draped over your shoulders—and your incessant whining that the sleeves weren’t long enough to keep you warm. He had rolled his eyes and shut you up with a kiss, before scooting over to sit behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. Claiming that he would keep you warm instead, while you’d been too stunned to speak. Too preoccupied with the taste of his lips—of booze and smoke…and of the slightest scent of cedarwood.

“You’re a pain in my ass and you always know what to say to push my buttons, and I’m still pissed at you for leaving that night—and not coming to visit afterwards. You’re an asshole, no way around it.”

You can feel the tension slipping from your shoulders, the cloud of frustration finally easing from your mind as you reach down to take his face in your hands. Palms pressed against his ragged skin, thumbs grazing the staples below his eyes, savoring the way his lips part at your touch, the way his eyelids flutter as you lean in close. His fingers are burning against your waist, but you trust him not to burn you to ash. You still trust him, even though he’s given you every reason not to.

“But you’re mine. My pain in the neck, my villain, whatever you want to call yourself. My Dabi, my Touya—it doesn’t matter to me, as long as I get to have you.”

It’s the closest you can get to those three damn words without bursting into tears. But he seems to understand, because suddenly he’s twisting his hands into your hair and yanking you down for a searing kiss.

You can remember the first time he kissed you, how you knew you would never get tired of feeling his mouth on your own, or tasting his lips, or seeing the smug look on his face as he pulled himself away, just to see you breathless and begging for more. It’s still the same now, more or less, but with an underlying heat between your bodies. An undeniable wave of desire, crashing over your heads until the only thing you can see, touch, taste, is each other.

A groan slips through his mouth as he tugs you up the length of his body, mismatched lips finding their way to the familiar pulse point in your neck. He’s quick with his work, sucking a fresh bruise just below your jaw, where he knows his hoodie won’t be able to reach. It’s hard not to whine as he works his way down your neck, nipping and sucking as you bury your face and fingers into his soft white hair.

Fuck, you’ve missed this. How long has it been since he’s held you against his body like this, drawing out this wild side, this primal need for him, that only he can hope to tame?

Too long—too fucking long.

“D-Dabi,” you’re panting against his hair, moaning as he ruts his hips up into yours. “…It’s too dark in here—n-need to see you—”

He’s sitting up in a flash, one arm coiled around your waist with his other stretched out behind him. A gentle stream of flame erupts from his palm, illuminating his eyes before settling into the fireplace beside the couch. A thin trail of smoke rises from his wrist, reminding you of all the cigarettes he would smoke out on your balcony in the dead of night.

“Better, doll?”

“Better,” you whisper, and he smirks before pressing his mouth to yours once more.

For a moment, you forget about everything that’s led you up to this point. For a moment there’s no war between heroes and villains, no innocent civilians caught in the crossfire, no heartbroken memories or damning videos. There’s just the two of you within these four walls, all alone for the first time in almost a month.

And fuck if you’re not going to take advantage of every single second you can.

You push down on his chest, mindful of the scars and staples, and he falls back against the arm of the couch with a grunt. That lopsided smirk, the mischievous glint in his eye—he looks way too pleased with himself, a surefire warning to be on guard. He can be dangerously unpredictable in bed, more so after a mission or a fight with some heroes. All that adrenaline pumping through his veins gives him an extra edge, one he’s all too willing to exploit when he’s tangled up with you.

“Let’s get this off,” he mumbles, lifting the hem of your hoodie, his hoodie over your stomach.

“I’ll be cold,” you whine, but you still let him slip it over your head.

“Don’t worry, doll.” He tosses it to the floor, his mismatched lips grazing the shell of your ear. “I’ll be sure to keep you warm.”

Your shirt follows not too long after, and then he’s kissing his way across your chest, needy fingers already fumbling with the clasp of your bra. You roll your eyes and bat his hands away, and it’s hard not to giggle at the unimpressed look on his face. As though you had the sheer audacity to deny him of what’s rightfully his.

“Your turn, dummy. I’m not gonna be the only one who gets stripped down tonight.”

“Aww, this isn’t enough for you?” He motions to his bare chest with a wave of his hand, looking even more offended when you shake your head at him.

“No, not yet.” He groans when you shift a bit lower in your place against his hips, thumbing the silver button of his pants, licking your lips at the thin trail of white hair that disappears below the waistband. “I wanna see even more of you.”

“Then you better work for it,” he growls, but the feral look in his eye and the way his lip curls over his teeth tells you he wants this just as much as you do. He nestles into the arm of the couch, hands resting behind his head, as he gives an experimental buck of his hips—one that makes you gasp and your face flush with heat.

“You want it that badly, doll? Then show me what you’re made of.”

“Oh I plan to, Touya.”

You crush your mouth against his own, fumbling with that tiny silver button, sighing into his mouth when you finally manage to unclasp it. Your fingers dip down beneath the waistband, down the fabric of his boxers and over the slick patch of skin beneath. He’s so hot, literal flames coursing through his veins with every breath he takes. So dangerous, so lethal.

But you’ve never been scared of him, and you don’t plan on starting now.

He sucks in a sharp breath as he lifts his hips slightly, allowing you to slip his pants down to his thighs. But when you drag them down to his knees his hand suddenly curls around your wrist, freezing you in place.

His eyes are wide, his mouth agape, his fingers trembling against my skin.

“Doll…”

It’s not a warning, rather a plea. And it makes your heart ache in your chest all over again.

He’s always kept some of his clothes on during sex, even if they irritate his skin. Usually it’s enough for him to lower his pants just enough to free himself, especially if you’re in a well-lit room. Unless you’re in complete and total darkness, he refuses to strip down completely when he’s with you.

Part of you thinks he’s ashamed of the scars. You know exactly how much of his body they cover, from his face, down his chest, and over his legs. But you’ve never shied away from them, even when they’re still fresh and steaming. They’re just a part of him, the same as his eyes or his hair or that sharp tongue he likes to flaunt around. Another bit of Dabi you’ve grown to admire and love.

“Let me see,” you whisper, kissing the healthy swath of skin on his cheek. “You’re beautiful, Touya, and I want to see all of you.”

Touya, Touya, Touya. How many times has that name crossed your lips? How many nights had he drawn it out of you, breathless and soft as you squirmed beneath his body? How many times did you whisper it into your pillow, tears staining your lashes, as your last night replayed itself over and over again in your head?

Such a lovely name, and you’re still so proud of him for trusting you with it.

“Because you’re mine, right?” His fingers slowly unravel themselves from your wrist. Slowly, but surely. “You’re mine, as much as I’m yours… If you’ll have me, that is,” you add with a nervous giggle.

You’ve been so caught up in wanting to prove to him that you want him, that you never stopped to check if he wants you in the same way. I guess that’s what I get for being so eager.

He scoffs, tangling his fingers in your hair once more. “Fuck, you know I want you, dollface.”

Your chest swells with pride—and something else you’re not quite ready to put a label on just yet.

“I’m glad to hear that. Now lift your hips, I wanna see you.”

There’s a rustle of fabric, the sting of staples as he kicks his heavy boots and pants off and onto the dusty floor. Large patches stretch along his legs, marred skin mixed with healthy flesh, rusty staples and crude stitching piecing him all together. It’s a sight that makes your chest ache, one that would’ve made your stomach roll at one point or another. Just another reason for you to despise the bastard who did this to him.

His kisses are light against your lips, a stark contrast to the harsh rut of his hips beneath you. Trace every bit of skin and staples you can find with your fingers, ragged and smooth, until it blends together beneath your palms. Until the only thing you can feel is Dabi.

He manages to slip your pants down over your ass, letting you lean on him just enough to slide out of them and toss them on the floor. That gets a chuckle out of both of you; it’s not exactly easy to undress while simultaneously trying not to fall off this old fucking couch. For a brief moment you wonder if you should move upstairs to an actual bed, but that thought quickly turns to dust when he dips a finger into your panties, and you realize you can’t fucking wait any longer.

“Oh? So fucking wet already, aren’t you?”

He smirks against your mouth, dragging a couple of fingers across the slick patch of skin. You gasp and roll your hips, and he seems to gain some of his confidence back—you can feel it in the way he touches you, his fingers teasing your soaked slit.

“Tell me, did you just get this wet for me now, or did you walk in here already dripping like a bitch in heat?”

A shudder courses through your veins, nails finding purchase in his scarred shoulders. Not too rough, you don’t want him to start bleeding again, not so—

“Answer me.”

You’re squirming in his lap as he spreads your folds apart, his thumb barely ghosting over your clit. But when you try to squeeze your thighs together he tightens his grip and slaps your ass hard.

“J-just now,” you manage to choke out between gasps, “…I-I swear—”

“Hm, my pretty doll,” he whispers, and his fingers curl around your chin to pull you closer, “for some reason, I don’t fucking believe you.”

He’s pulling away all too soon, smirking when a whine slips past your mouth. He shifts himself lower on the couch, his head resting on the cushion rather than the arm. He licks his lips, brings his hand to his face—the same one he just had buried between your thighs—and taps his mouth with the tip of his finger.

“C’mon, doll. Sit on my face like a good girl.”

It’s almost laughable how fast you’re tearing your panties off, absolutely pathetic how easily you submit to his will. It’s been too long since you’ve had a night like this, a night where the only two people in the world are you and him.

He groans when you settle yourself over his face, nails digging into the ratty arm of the sofa, shivering at the touch of his hands on your waist. His palms are warm—too warm to be natural. And sure enough you can see a wisp of blue emitting from his palm, before he tugs your entire weight down to sit on his face.

“Dabi, wait—”

Your breath catches at the first brush of his tongue, that familiar piercing he has right on the tip—shit, he knows just how that drives me crazy—

“Y-you’re staples!” Another gasp as he holds you in place, his palms heating up ever so slightly against your outer thighs. “Just d-don’t rip them out—ah—be c-careful!”

“’S fine,” he mumbles, pulling himself away just enough to lick at his wet lips, “I know you’ll just patch me up again if I tear them out.”

You don’t even have time to argue before he’s forcing you down on his face again, lapping at your pussy like a starved man. It’s all so exhilarating—the heat of his hands, the slight pinch of the staples in his jaw, the way his tongue slides against your folds in every way imaginable—

Suddenly his lips find their way around your clit, sucking hard and fast—and you sink your nails into the white roots of his hair.

“Dabi!”

You’re grinding yourself on his face now, gasping as each thrust brings you right against his tongue, his nose bumping against your burning clit. His eyes are glowing beneath your body, matching the shade of the flames in the fireplace, casting a warm glow over the two of you. So warm, so comforting, so powerful—and absolutely feral.

He slips his tongue inside, tightens his grip on your thighs as he rocks you back and forth on his face. Your palms are slick with sweat, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as you scream out his name at the top of your lungs. So loud you’re surprised any heroes that may be nearby don’t start breaking down the doors and crashing through the windows. Though you have no doubt in your mind Dabi would refuse to stop at this point, no matter what could be lurking beyond these walls.

“Dabi, Dabi, Dabi…” His eyes flicker up to yours, his eyebrow quirked and his nose pressing against your clit. “I—ngh—I can’t take it—please, let me come—”

Like he needs to be told twice.

His nails sink into the flesh of your thighs—part of you is already wondering if you’ll still have bruises by tomorrow morning—and he starts thrusting your hips against his tongue at a rapid pace. You try your best to keep up and rock yourself against him but he’s just too fast. Never mind the strain on your muscles, the coil in your stomach that’s growing tighter and tighter with every buck of your hips. You might as well be a toy at this point, boneless and pretty, made for his pleasure rather than your own.

A doll. His doll.

And suddenly you’re bursting at the seams, the corners of your eyes sparkling with stars, the coil in your stomach finally snapping apart. Dabi’s all too eager to lap up your release, his tongue making you shiver as you gush all over his face.

“Such a good girl,” his voice is raspy as he finally lifts you off of him, circling his hands over the fresh marks on your thighs.

Your sight’s a little hazy, but you can still make out a few split staples on each side of his mouth, ripped apart between burned and healthy skin. But he’s on you before you can say a word, hoisting you into his arms and pulling you against his chest, with your legs wrapped around his waist. He presses his mouth to yours, dragging his tongue across your own, smirking when you gasp at the taste of yourself on his lips.

“Still taste so fucking good, dollface.” Suddenly he’s pushing his hands on your chest, caging you against the cushions of the couch, his elbows on either side of your head. “I think you’re ready for my fingers now. You think so?”

You’re nodding as hard as you can, nearly clunking your foreheads together, and he lets out one of those rare laughs you’ve come to love so much.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, yes—fuck, I’m ready!”

This is Dabi in his element: painfully patient, well aware of the power he holds over your body, and relishing every single second of it.

He hums in delight, slipping a finger beneath the strap of your bra, resting against your shoulder. “Take this off for me—unless you want it turned to ash.”

You’re certain the clasp snaps apart with how fast you rip it off, tossing it over the arm of the couch. He smirks again as he lowers his head, pressing a kiss to your breast. A stark contrast to the primal way he was handling you earlier, but it makes you whine all the same.

He’s slow with his movements now, kneading your breasts together, pressing a line of kisses down your chest, dragging his tongue against the pulse point in your neck. He’s so soft and gentle you can feel your eyes fluttering shut, the exhaustion from your orgasm finally catching up to me.

“Dabi,” your voice is soft against his temple, “Dabi, I—ah!”

He slides a finger inside, smirking down as he brushes his mouth against your forehead.

“Eyes on me, doll. Don’t want you dozing off on me just yet, now do we?”

You can’t find the words to answer him as he adds another finger, curling them upward, drawing out another pathetic whine from the pit of your chest.

“We’re not even close to bein’ done for the night, so you just keep those pretty little eyes open for me, and let me do all the work. You understand?”

You start to nod but think the better of it, opting to choke out, “Y-yeah, I do…”

“Hm, so you can listen.” He starts pumping his fingers at a gentle pace, keeping his other arm beside your head on the couch. You can’t stop yourself from squirming beneath him as he curls his fingers, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit.

“D-Dabi—”

“Good girl,” he hisses against your temple, “good fuckin’ girl.”

He’s achingly slow with his thrusts, dragging his fingers against every inch of you, every bit of flesh he can reach. Your hands find their way around his shoulder blades, nails cutting into the scarred skin as he presses down hard on your clit. You’re squealing against his mouth now, dragging your hands down the ragged skin, wincing when you pull away and see a faint shadow of red beneath your nails.

“Shit, I’m so s-sorry,” the bastard’s still pumping his fingers into you, “I-I didn’t mean to m-make you bleed—”

But he’s quick to shush you, his other hand hovering over your neck. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, pretty girl, it’s not important.”

Like hell it is, I’m not patching you up again just because you like it rough—

“Ah, there it is.” He smirks as he brushes his fingers upward, hitting that special spot that has you whining and squirming and digging your nails even deeper into his skin. “You gonna come for me, doll? Be my good girl and squirt all over my fingers?”

Your chest is heaving, legs raised to wrap themselves around his hips, gasping out his name as he drives his fingers deeper into your body.

“Y-yes, Dabi—fuck!” You’re so close, that familiar coil winding up in the pit of your stomach, almost there, almost there—

“That’s it, come for me. Make a mess for me, doll. Come on—oh, that’s it—so fucking good for me, aren’t ya?”

You’re shuddering against his burned chest, carving your nails into his skin as the coil finally explodes. You can feel yourself clamping down hard on his fingers, legs jerking as he traces his thumb over your clit, his voice as he mumbles a slew of filthy words against your ear.

“Hey, keep your eyes open.” He taps your cheek, leaving a smear of your juices on your skin. But he’s all too eager to press his lips to it and clean you off. “Turn around, doll, get on your knees. Can you do that for me?”

Anything for you, but your tongue is too thick to get the words out. Instead you give him a nod, twisting your body around as he shuffles himself off of you. Before you know it you’re leaning against the arm of the couch, grasping at the torn fabric as he settles himself behind you. There’s a soft rustling sound as he slides his boxers down, but when you try to glance back at him his hand curls around the back of your head, keeping your head forward and hanging over the arm of the couch.

“W-wanna see you…”

“Later, pretty girl. You’ll get to see me later.”

There’s a familiar bite to his tone; not the one that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine, but the kind that makes your hands twitch and your throat burn. He’s still doubting the way he looks, even after everything you’ve done so far. Does he still not trust you enough to see all of him like you let him see all of you?

But then your mind goes blank as he leans into you, hands hot against your hips, the wet sound of slick filling your ears as he takes his cock in his hand. He thumps it against your clit, and the edge of the piercing on the tip has you trembling all over again.

“Deep breaths for me,” he mumbles, his breath hot against your nape, “deep breaths, doll…”

He pushes himself in, bit by bit, groaning when you whine his name beneath him. He’s stretching you out, so tight and warm you think you might burst, the collection of piercings adorning his cock making your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Every ridge of skin, every touch of metal and breath against your body sends you over the edge, sucking him in as he bottoms out inside you with a moan.

“Fuck, so tight…”

It’s all too much; the heat of his body against your own, the touch of his lips on your neck, and the throb of his cock deep inside you. Suddenly you’re dragging the back of your hand over your eyes, praying with everything you have that Dabi won’t see what he does to you.

It’s been so long, I didn’t think I’d have him like this again. Not after that night…

Not after what had been said. Not after he’d screamed that he wanted nothing more to do with you, that you were just a body to keep him busy in the dead of night. Not after you’d told him to get out of your apartment, to walk out of your life forever, that you would be better off without him. The words still rang in your head, echoing through those late nights in your bed, the sheets damp with sweat and the pillow stained with tears.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it, I was only trying to hurt you. Just like you hurt me. But I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, because I—

“Still with me, doll?” You swallow hard and nod your head, keeping your eyes on the arm of the couch. His hands are surprisingly soft against your hips. “Gonna start moving, you ready?”

You close your eyes, savoring the warmth of his skin, both burned and smooth, against your own. “Of course I am. Just fuck me already.”

He’s steady at first, mindful of his size and your position on the couch. Rolling his hips into your own, massaging your hips with his scarred palms, the occasional curse slipping through his mouth. It’s been too long since you’ve found yourself in a situation like this; despite your best efforts, you haven’t been with anyone else since that last night. Every face, hand, pair of lips against your own reminds you of him.

But now you have him, after all this time, and you’ll be damned if you don’t have him at least try to make up for the month of hell he put you through.

You’re thrusting your hips against his own, relishing the groan and startled look in his eye when you gaze up at him from over your shoulder. “I said fuck me, didn’t I?” Come on, I know you can do better than that. “So don’t hold back.”

And suddenly he’s wrapping a fist around your hair, rutting his hips into yours like an animal in heat. The wet sound of his skin slapping against your own, his cock sliding in and out of you, the feral groan he lets out in the form of your name—it’s too much too soon, leaving you gasping for air over the arm of the couch.

“Little fucking slut, aren’t ya? Always so eager for my cock. Tell me,” he sneers, and you jolt when his breath clouds over the shell of your ear, “did you come all the way out here tonight hoping to get your pretty little brains fucked out?”

Not entirely—the possibility hadn’t even crossed your mind on the trek here. But that’s not what comes out of your mouth.

“M-maybe—fuck, yes!” You cry out as his palm comes down hard on your ass, your pitiful words only fueling his ego. “S-so rough…”

“Aww, doll, I thought you liked it when I’m rough with you?” Another thrust of his hips, his cock pounding against that sweet spot deep inside you. “Let me ask you, how many men did you fuck while I was gone?”

“N-none…”

“Hm? Couldn’t hear ya, doll. Speak up.”

He smacks your ass again, eliciting another scream from your throat. “None! No one else, only…only you, Dabi…”

The tears are spilling freely down your cheeks, leaving little pools on the arm of the couch. Dabi groans again as he yanks your hair back, his lips searing against the skin of your jaw.

“Say it again. Say my name.”

“Dabi, Dabi—”

“Not that one, doll.”

Your heart thrums against your ribcage, eyes wide and teary, but you can still feel a smile on your face.

“Touya!”

He’s pounding into you at a brutal pace, one hand still wrapped around your hair as his other hand slides down the length of your body, between your thighs to circle over your burning clit. You’re gasping out his name, nails biting into the arm of the sofa, bucking your hips back to meet his thrusts halfway.

A stray tear slides down your cheek; he releases his hold on your hair just to wipe it away and kiss the heated skin below.

“Touya, I-I’m so close—so fucking close—”

It’s right there within your reach, burning on the tip of your tongue, your eyes fluttering shut with every thrust he gives you.

“Don’t hold back,” he hisses as you push back against him with a whimper. He presses two fingers against your clit, rubbing them in hard, tight circles. “Wanna hear you scream, got it?”

You can only nod your head, your words slurring together as he brings you closer and closer to your peak.

“C’mon, cream all over my cock—”

“F-fuck, Touya!”

Suddenly you’re tumbling over the edge, pressing your face into the arm of the couch, clenching your thighs around his hand. A tremble courses through your body, vision flooding with white, whining out his name as he continues to circle your clit, even when you’re spent and slumped in his arms.

“That’s it, doll, such a good girl for me.” But there’s a strain in his voice, a familiar fire in his thrusts as he chases his own release. “So good, so fucking good—”

Something warm and rough closes over the back of your hand; your eyes open to see his fingers lacing through your own, pinning your hand to the arm of the couch. It’s not long before he shifts himself to grasp your other hand, caging your body against the couch, his voice raspy and his breaths short against the shell of your ear.

“Gonna come—where do you want it, doll?”

You squeeze his fingers with your own, eyes fixed on the burned skin of his arm. “I-inside… Want you inside me, Touya…”

His chest shudders against your back, face pressed against your neck as he stills his thrusts, spilling himself inside of you. He stays there for a moment, panting against your skin, still holding your hands in his scarred ones, the heat of his body giving you an entirely new sense of bliss you thought you’d lost for good.

But then he slides himself out, his cum dribbling onto the cushions below, and you can’t help but giggle when his cock brushes against your inner thigh.

“Still hard?” He scoffs and starts to pull away—but your hands are already curling around his wrists, tugging him back down to your level. “Lay down,” you manage to slur out, “wanna be on top now.”

He barks out a laugh but settles down on the couch anyway, tracing the skin of your hips with his nails.

“Sure you’re up for this, dollface?” You nod, straddling his hips for the second time tonight. “You look worn out, don’t want you falling asleep on me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fucked me in my sleep,” you murmur, and he only smirks at the memory. Needy asshole. “Besides, you had me the way you wanted. And now it’s my turn.”

“Oh? And in what way do you want me?” He squeezes his hands around your ass and pulls you in close. “My cock not good enough for you anymore?”

“No, it’s more than enough.” You press your hands to the planes of his chest, smiling as he sinks into the messy cushions below. “I just wanna see your eyes when I tell you how beautiful you are.”

That’s when you see it: the tiniest clench of his jaw, the glazed look in his eye that lets you know, he thinks it’s all bullshit. That he won’t believe you, no matter how many times you say it to his face.

“…I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I said I wanted all of you, didn’t I? I meant it, even your looks. Your hair, your eyes, these scars…” You lean down to kiss his neck, eliciting the softest groan from his chest. “They’re my favorite part about you.”

“Why?” The look in his eyes is so uncertain, so terrified—as if he’s still a child, begging for someone to accept him. “They’re just scars. They’re…ugly.”

“Not really. They show just how strong you are. How strong your flames are, how determined you are. No matter what’s standing in your way, you always find a way to persist. And that’s why I—”

Love you.

You clamp your mouth shut, fighting the urge to slap both hands over your face. Idiot, you’re such a fucking idiot! Now he’s staring at you with those big eyes and you’re fucking everything up and—

“That’s why I…I want every part of you.” Anti-climactic, but it eases some of the weight off your chest. “Every bit you have to offer. Scars, fears, sins—none that scares me. I want all of them, because I want you. All I care about is you, Touya.”

He’s growing increasingly uneasy, you can see it in the way his eyes dart back and forth between your own and the ceiling, the slight quiver of his hands against your waist. Words have never really been his strong suit in situations like this, so you can tell he’s having trouble coming up with a response. So before he can you lean down to kiss him again, your hands roaming all across his body.

Actions seem to speak louder than words, anyway.

A thin sheen of sweat gathers along the healthy skin of his chest, the silver staples glimmering at the corners. He’s gorgeous in this light, sprawled out beneath you on the couch, the faint hue of the fireplace flickering over his skin. Matching those beautiful eyes, so sad and lost, and the wisps of flame dancing along his fingertips.

You lower your hand down his abdomen, over his hips, and smile when he gasps when you take his cock in your hand. Hot and heavy in the palm of your hand, adorned with little silver piercings along the base and tip. You remember asking him about them when you first started your little relationship, how he smirked when you asked him if they hurt at all. At the time he’d shrugged his shoulders and pulled you into his chest, insisting that they didn’t hurt anymore, that they would feel much better inside you anyway. Even now you still can’t believe how desperate he can be just for a good fuck.

Those blue eyes are still wide, burning with that same hint of lust from earlier. As if he’s trusting you to make him feel good—to take care of him, just as he’s always done to you.

“Breathe, Touya.” It’s hard to keep the smile out of your voice as he squirms beneath you, tightens his grip around your waist. “I’ve got you.”

And I’m never letting you go ever again.

It takes a few strokes of your hand before he’s bucking himself into your palm, silently whining for you to get on with it. You spread your thighs and position yourself over his cock—but not before pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead.

I love you.

He groans out your name as you sink yourself down onto him. That familiar stretch of his cock makes your chest shudder, a moan slipping through your parted lips. Despite the mess of cum and sweat between your bodies, neither of you seems bothered all that much. What’s the point of getting upset over it when you’re just going to add to the mess later on?

“…Maybe you were right about this position, doll.” He lifts a hand and squeezes the underside of your breast, earning a pleased hum from your throat. “Gonna enjoy seeing your face when I fuck you like this.”

“As if,” you try to laugh, but it’s hard to keep your voice steady. “I’m the one who’s fucking you this time.”

“We’ll see about that.”

But before he can move you take his hands in your own, raising them up and pinning them beside his head on the arm of the couch. Smirking at the mischievous look in those hooded eyes.

“Not a chance, Touya. You’re gonna be good for me—whatever I have to offer, you’re gonna lay there and take it.”

“Oh am I, doll? Since when did you get all demanding and feisty, huh? I guess me being gone for a bit made you needier than usual, huh?”

Probably, but there’s no way in hell you’ll admit it to his face. So instead you grind your hips down onto his, and he gasps and moans out your name.

“C-can’t say I don’t like it.” His breaths are growing shorter with every thrust of your hips. “You used to be s-so shy and timid, and you still are. Sure didn’t put up a fight when I fucked your brains out earlier, now did you?”

If he’s still talking, I’m not doing a good enough job.

“N-no, you didn’t—!” He still tries to laugh even when you pick up the pace, sinking your nails into the marred skin of his wrists. “Loved every second of it, didn’t you? I know you did—always a little slut for my cock—my little slut—”

Suddenly your nails are digging into the patches on his throat, his blue eyes blown wide with lust as you lean in close, so close your nose brushes against his own.

“Shut up. Just shut up and let me fuck you.”

Let me love you.

That seems to convince him; curiosity and lust seem to win him over as he complies with your orders, keeping his hands above his head, snapping his mouth shut for good. But then he’s moaning again as you roll your hips down, and his sounds only encourage you to go faster.

You press your palms against his chest, nails cutting into the healthy flesh beneath the staples, and start bouncing yourself up and down on his cock. His hands are free for now, but he doesn’t try to take control and subdue you. Instead he’s grabbing onto your hips, ramming himself deeper inside you with every thrust.

He’s hitting that same spot deep inside you, the one that makes you see stars and scream his name out to the world. The muscles in your thighs are burning; three orgasms in and you’re still chasing after a fourth like a bitch in heat. But it’s hard to resist the urge when you have him below you like this, staring up at you with those beautiful blue eyes, whispering “good girl” and “fuck, that’s it” into the musty air around you.

“C’mon, harder. I know you can do better than that—fuck—”

Dabi, Touya—it doesn’t matter what he wants to be called, you still end up screaming both names out at the top of your lungs. So loud you want everyone to know just who can make you feel this way, who holds your heart and soul and body in his scarred hands. Because he’s worth everything to you, someone you trust with your life even if you shouldn’t. Someone you don’t have to hide yourself from, to put on a front or a fake smile for. Someone who makes your heart flutter and your palms sweaty and your chest ache, because you—

“…Love you.”                              

It’s out there—you can’t take it back now. Not when you’re so close; not when he’s staring up at you like that.

As though you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

But your words don’t seem to deter him in the slightest. Instead he’s slamming you down on his cock even harder than before, swallowing your squeals as he pulls you in for another searing kiss. He’s sitting up now, arms wrapped around your waist as you bounce yourself in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” the tears are already bubbling in your eyes, “but I love you—love you so fucking much—”

“Yeah?” His voice is hoarse, as though he hasn’t used it in years. “You mean it?”

“Yes, I do! Y-you’re the only one for m-me—”

Your hands close around his shoulders, his breath burning against your neck—you can already feel the coil in your stomach, ready to snap. So close, so close—

“Almost there, doll. Ride me—give me everything you’ve got—”

You roll your hips as hard as you can, and at the first touch of his fingers against your clit you’re clenching hard around his cock. Screaming his name out as you feel every ridge and piercing move against you, inside of you as you’re gushing all over his lap.

But he’s not far behind, chasing his own release as he picks up the pace. You gather his face in your hands, running your thumbs along the lines of staples that keep his jaw secure, tasting his breath on your tongue.

And you know you should stop talking before you make everything worse, but that doesn’t stop you from pressing your mouth against his own and whispering, “Love you, Touya.”

Suddenly he’s gasping into your mouth, palms unnaturally hot against your hips—and when you give him a nod he presses his fingers deeper into your skin. A blistering sense of heat spreads throughout your body; a scream bubbles up in your throat. Touya groans out your name as he gives one final thrust, spilling himself inside you as his fingers sear their prints into the skin of your hips.

The two of you are shuddering, kissing each other furiously, blinking the sweat from your eyes. His body is already starting to overheat, a thin layer of steam rising from the stapled skin of his chest. But that doesn’t seem to be his main concern; instead he’s lowering his hands to inspect the fresh burns on your hips.

“Does it hurt?”

“Only a little,” you tell him, but he’s still kissing along the marks anyway.

It’s not the first time he’s branded you in the heat of the moment. It took him a while to agree to it, along with an incessant amount of begging on your part, and he’s still always so attentive to them whenever he does it during sex. It always baffles you how he can be so concerned and caring with taking care of the light burns he leaves on your skin, but he completely neglects his own.

“Touya, it’s fine, I’ll just clean them up in a bit. I promise I’ll be—”

But then he glances up at you, and your chest swells when you see the trails of blood leaking from the staples underneath his eyes. You try to wipe them off but he catches your wrists and tugs you close, pressing kiss after kiss against your sweaty palms.

“To—”

“Say it again.” His voice is almost pitiful, the look in his bloody eyes worse than any burn mark on your skin. “Please.”

In all the months you’ve known him, you’ve never heard the man beg. Not as Touya and definitely not as Dabi. But the hopeful look in his eyes makes you want to cry. To hold him in your arms and shield him from the rest of the world. To fight off his insecurities tooth and nail, to chase away all those horrible thoughts and memories that keep him up at night. To press a thousand kisses along his face and down his body, ending at his lips before giving him a thousand more.

You take his face in your hands and kiss his forehead. His white hair tickles your nose, still smelling of smoke and ash.

“You know I love you, Touya. When I said I wanted you, I meant it. I want everything that makes you, you; I want to see you grow and thrive and make the best out of this world we’re in. And no matter how many times you try to push me away—even if you think it’s for my own good—I won’t ever leave you alone. I promise to stay by your side, no matter what you’ve done or what you may do in the future. Because I love you, and I’ll say it as many times as I have to until you believe me.”

There’s nothing he can do, nothing he can say that will make you change your mind. He is the one you’ve decided to trust with your heart. The one you’ve grown to care about more than anyone else in the world. And you’ll keep saying it, even if he never believes you. Even if he never sees you in that same light.

He doesn’t speak a word, doesn’t even make a sound. He simply holds your body against his own, pressing his stapled cheek to your breasts. You can feel his heartbeat below the ragged skin of his chest, the vibrations lulling you into a light sleep.

B-bmp, b-bmp, b-bmp.

Finally he breaks the silence with a grunt, lifting you off his lap and sliding himself out of you. Your thighs are burning with exhaustion, not unlike the heat engraved in your hips. But Dabi’s careful as he swings his legs over the side of the couch, gathering you in his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist.

Wordlessly he carries you to the nearby bathroom, where he sets you down on the counter and washes out your burns. He reaches for the little tube of ointment in the cabinet—the same brand you have back at your apartment—and squirts a small amount on his fingers. You do your best to stay still as he slathers it over the burns, trying to be as gentle as he possibly can. And once he’s done he cleans off his hands, grabs a roll of bandages from the counter, and presses them over the marks on your hips. Definitely not the first time you’ve worn bandages like these on your body—or the first time Dabi’s been the one to apply them.

It’s not like him to go this long without saying anything. Not a single snarky comment or flirty remark, just to get a reaction out of you. It’s almost terrifying, the way he refuses to make any sound—or even talk to you.

Did I say anything wrong? Was I too forward with my little speech earlier? Is he angry at me for admitting my feelings to him?

“…Touya?” No answer. You clear your throat and try again. “Touya, are you okay? …Are you—”

“How can I be, after what you said out there?”

Oh.

Did you read the entire situation wrong? Perhaps he’s ready to leave you for good this time, making sure you can’t follow him wherever he goes?

The mere thought hurts you more than it should. Idiot, you’re such a fucking idiot, thinking he’d feel the same about you.

“…I’m sorry—”

“No don’t, don’t fucking do that…” He lets out a sigh, swiping a hand through his hair as he all but tosses the roll of bandages on the counter. “It’s not…you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

Then…why? Why are you still pushing me away when you know I love you?

And then it hits you: the problem lies within that phrase, those three simple words that crawled their way out of your mouth. Maybe he does feel the same, and he doesn’t know how to come out and say it. Or even if he should say it. Because as much as it pains you to think about, those three little words must’ve been pretty rare in his old life with his family.

Or maybe he doesn’t feel that way at all, and you’re still stuck in a perfect little fantasy, hoping it’ll all work out in the end.

You suck in a deep breath, until your chest aches from the stretch, and begin to speak.

“Touya, do you…feel the same way about me?”

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. You clear your throat and rephrase the question.

“Do you care about me? Say no if you don’t.” He snaps his mouth shut, and the tiniest bit of pride blooms in your chest. “So then, do you…like me the same way I like you?” And suddenly you’re a child on the playground again, wondering if your crush thinks of you in the same way you think about him.

“…I…I think I do, but…”

Blood trails are streaming down his cheeks. With every word he looks more unsure of himself, more confused, as the man he’s built himself up to be begins to crumble down before your eyes. It’s hard to breathe as you watch him break down. The blood, the scars, the way his hands curl around his face—and suddenly you’re jumping off the counter, legs shaking, heart leaping in your throat, and taking him into your arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to say it out loud. You don’t have to give me an answer right away.”

You stretch out your fingers, the tips brushing against the staples beneath his eyes. He doesn’t flinch away, even as you wipe away the trickles of blood, and you sigh in relief. A small victory, one that gives you hope that maybe this can all work itself out.

“If you don’t wanna say anything, that’s okay. I get it, believe me. But please don’t push me away anymore. I want to be close to you, okay? To stay by your side even when you don’t want me to be. So please, just…let me stay with you…”

It’s an eternity before he moves again. He slides his hand into your hair and tugs you in, mismatched lips finding their way to your forehead. You lean up to kiss his split jaw, giggling softly when he brushes his nose against your own. And for a moment, it seems like everything’s going to be okay.

You’ll be alright. You can wait for him, as long as he needs you to.

It takes some convincing (and a few heated kisses) for him to let you clean out his wounds for real and reapply his staples. The bastard’s jaw is barely hanging on at this point, a look he wears like a badge of honor. He doesn’t even wince as you snap a batch of fresh staples into his cheeks.

“Why the long face, doll?” You roll your eyes and drop another bloody staple into the tray on the counter. “You know damn well this isn’t the first time you’ve done this.”

“And it’ll be the last if you keep running your mouth like that.”

“Not if I can help it—”

“Touya.” There’s a warning in your voice but he only laughs it off.

“Touya,” he mocks in a high pitched voice, “let me come! Touya, please don’t rip your staples out! Touya, please fuck me, I need you inside me!”

“Touya!” Louder this time, but he only laughs harder.

“Yeah that’s it, doll. Sure weren’t complaining earlier, when you had my tongue inside your—”

You slap his chest as hard as you can without damaging the staples. It seems to shut him up long enough for you to finish patching him up, but he’s still wearing that fucking smirk that makes you weak in the knees.

At least he’s eased up for now. As much as you adore him, it’s not easy seeing him act all unsure of himself. As though he has to hide who he really is from you.

When the blood’s finally cleared off and his scars are treated, he takes a fresh cloth from the cabinet and soaks it under the sink. He runs it along your thighs, wiping away any traces of his cum. After he’s finished you rinse the cloth with warm water and press it along his sweaty chest. Careful the fabric doesn’t get caught on the staples lined across his skin.

Once the two of you are cleaned off, he scoops you up in his arms with your legs wrapped around his hips, and he leads you back into the room with the fireplace. You’ll have to wait until you get back to your place for a proper shower; unfortunately this old mansion doesn’t have much to offer when it comes to running water. But judging by the way Touya’s carrying you, with his arms tight around your waist, you’re starting to think he’s not ready to leave this mansion just yet.

He cleans off the messy cushions—which consists of him wiping them down with a wad of tissues before flipping them over—and plops himself down right in the center. He pulls on his pants and slips on his boots, before tossing you that old hoodie of his that still smells like smoke. You pull it over your head, mindful of the bandages on your hips, and try not to think of how dangerously low his pants are resting on his hips.

He reclines back against the arm, kicking his legs up and pulling you down on his chest once more. You’re straddling his hips again, wearing nothing but his old hoodie, your face pressed against his scarred chest.

“…Wish I had a cigarette right now.”

You stifle a laugh, reach into the pocket of the hoodie, and hold out a little white package to him. His eyes go wide for a moment, before he tugs it from your grasp and gives you one of those all-knowing smirks.

“Aww, how did you know? And these are my favorite, doll.”

You shrug and snuggle deeper into his chest. “Thought you’d want one or two so I brought ‘em with me.”

He slips the little stick between his lips and wiggles his eyebrows. “So that’s why you came here—I was right after all, huh?”

“As if, fuckin’ pervert. It’s not my fault you only wanna smoke after sex.”

He lets out a chuckle, lifting a blue-tipped finger to the end of the stick. Your eyes follow the tiny flame, the gorgeous hue of its sparks, the gentle wisps that coil into the air, before it vanishes with a quick wave of his hand.

A comfortable silence stretches over the two of you. Your gaze wanders up to the window above, revealing the pale half-moon behind the dark clouds. You wonder what time it is… But then you realize it doesn’t matter and press your face against the ragged skin of his neck. It’s just you and him for now, nothing else matters right now. The whole world could burn to ashes and you wouldn’t care—because you have the man you love wrapped up in your arms.

“Tell me,” he finally rasps, stubbing out his cigarette with his thumb. A blue wisp of flame engulfs the little stick, and seconds later he’s dusting the ash off his hand and onto the floor below. “Did you mean it? What you said earlier?”

Oh, I guess we’re back to this.

You lean up against his chest, chin propped up on your palm, to find him staring up at the dirty ceiling above. His fingers drum along the small of your back, the heel of his boot thumping against the arm at a gentle rhythm. He doesn’t meet your eyes, even when you start to speak.

“You know I meant it. Every single word. I promise. I’m not gonna leave you alone, no matter how much you push me away. And I’ll keep saying it until I’m blue in the face, you got it?”

When he still doesn’t look at you, you reach up and brush the backs of your fingers over the line of staples in his cheek. He lets out a sigh before catching your hand in his own and bringing it up to his face. And it’s hard to ignore the ache in your chest when he kisses your fingers and knuckles, one by one, before stopping right at the center of your palm.

Suddenly those blue eyes are burning right through you, and the whole world seems to vanish around you.

“Stay with me.”

You nod at once. “I will.”

“Say you love me.”

“I love you—so fucking much—I love you, I love you…”

I love you.

He’s kissing you now, mismatched lips tracing over your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere they can possibly reach. You twist your fingers into his hair and hold him close to your chest.

Nothing else matters. It’s just the two of you in this little mansion in the middle of the forest, the only ones who matter in this world. No heroes, no villains, no secrets, no lies. Just you and Touya, and for now that’s all you need.

Even if he never says those three simple words back to you.

“Touya—” But then he’s kissing you again, and you’re giggling uncontrollably against his mouth.

I’ve got you. I’ll stay with you for as long as you’ll have me. I’ll keep you safe, I’ll patch up your wounds, and I’ll—

“Hey, stop! That tickles!” But he keeps on nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Touya, come on, you’re—”

That’s when you feel it, hard and insistent, pressing against your inner thigh. He only smirks and licks his lips.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Mm, I’ve been called worse, doll.” He slides a hand down to your hips, caressing the bandages, the burn marks seared into your skin. “Promise I’ll be gentle.” He kisses you again, slowly this time, as he trails his hand down just a bit lower.

It’s not perfect, the relationship you have (if it can even be called that). There’s tears, blood, burns, nightmares, and you know it’ll only get worse from here on out. What Touya’s decided to do with his life, and how he plans to leave his mark on the world—it still leaves your stomach rolling and your throat burning with tears. But beneath all the words and scars and flames, you know he’s hurting inside. And you’ll be damned if you let him suffer through this ordeal all alone.

You’re in love with him—everything that makes him the man he is. No matter how much he’s hurting, how often he thinks of himself as a failure. You’re determined to give him everything you have, in hopes one day he’ll do the same for you. To wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest and press a thousand kisses against his skin. To let him know he doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

That you’re here for him; that you’ll stay with him, no matter what may happen in the future.

So that’s why you only laugh as he lays you back down across his chest, his fingers weaving through your hair, careful not to get any of it caught on the staples of his palms. There’ll be another time for conversations like those. For now you can lose yourselves in each other, hand in hand, with the warm glow of the blue flames casting over you.  

[ahappydnp]

i am going to my show alone which is all fine and good but as a mid 30s person i am a bit nervous that i’ll be sat between people significantly younger than me. which is like fine i don’t think ill ‘feel old’ or anything (because f that) i just find it awkward interacting with people who are like 22. but idk how to find any people my age at the show ive not seen like anyone talking about it despite it being nearly sold out

ayye 30s gang!! omg no it’ll honestly be so fine!!!! that was me at one of my shows for wad and i was in the m&g queue with a bunch of early 20 somethings and i did feel slightly awkward at first but once you get to talking it’s so easy just to chat about dnp!

genuinely like i even got to help some younger people in the queue who had never gone to a show before and just talked them through what was gonna happen with m&g and no one was like rude about me being older than them (literally dans age)

but i will say there’s waaaaay more people our age at the shows than you’d expect! like im being so serious it’s close to maybe 40%! it’s just seems that we’re less likely to show our faces in fandom spaces or be as vocal as the baby phannies but trust we are there <3333 hope you have the best time at your show and pls let me know how it goes!!!!

[dreamingofep]

For the Heart part 2

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: no not at all. This idea popped in my head at midnight the other night and couldn't stop thinking about it.

Prompt: You are Elvis Presley's latest girlfriend.

You are a new actor in Hollywood and fall head over heels with him on set and your whirlwind romance begins. | [Fem!Reader ]

TW: 18+ SMUT SMUT SMUT Sexxx. Cussing, fingering (f. receiving) teasing/tension, edging, daddy kink, dom!Elvis, unprotected p in v, cream pie, inaccurate to Elvis timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors

Do NOT Interact)

| Word Count: 5,800

A/N: Hi everyone! Thank you to anyone who read part one of this! I couldn't leave this one alone and kept writing a continuation. Hope you like part 2! Please feel free to comment and message me your thoughts I'd love the feedback! Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.

The soft silky sheets wrap around your body as you start to stretch and regain consciousness from your deep sleep. You let out a soft groan and twist your torso to let out a nice pop out of your spine. You feel the other side of the bed cold and empty like usual. You stretch out your legs and wince. There’s a soreness on your inner thighs and your-

Oh fuck.

Elvis came back last and surprised you… that’s putting it mildly.

Last night was one of the most intense nights you two had had in a long time and just relished in the memory. Where did he run off to already?

A pang of sadness hits you thinking he already left and didn’t say goodbye. You sit up in bed and your eyes scan the room, looking for any signs of his stuff laying around. You can't find anything of his and all you can see is the nightgown he tore off of you and your wadded-up panties thrown across the way. You flop back down on your pillow and want to throw a fit that he’s not here next to you.

You turn your head over to look over at his side of the bed when you see a folded piece of paper on top of his pillow.

Had to take care of some business baby

I’ll be back before you get up

Stay there looking like an angel

E

You can’t help but smile when you read those few last words. His blocky, capital lettered writing beautifully floating on the page for your eyes to see. The fact that he sees you as an angel when he is a perfectly sculpted man baffles you and makes you get butterflies in your tummy from that prospect.

You decide to get up and shower and try to get ready for the day. You had no idea if Elvis had anything planned or not but thought it would be best to get rid of the stickiness that was down your thighs. You walk around the corner to the bathroom and turn on the shower and get the water nice and steamy the way you like it.

After getting all ready with your hair perfectly up, not a hair out of place, and your makeup done like it's straight out of a magazine, you decide it's time for some lunch. It was two in the afternoon so breakfast was out the window. Going through your closet, you decide on a lavender v-neck sweater, black leather skirt, with sheer tights underneath will be the outfit you go with for the day. You hope Elvis doesn’t take too long with whatever he’s doing and you get to spend the rest of the day with him and only him.

As you go down the stairs, the front door opens and this beautiful tall shadow is in the middle of the door frame. Your heart skips a beat and you know that body anywhere. He takes a step in and a beaming wide smile is across his face. It’s the goofy kind of smile you absolutely adore and get a giggle from any time he gives one to you. You take two steps at a time and come running down the rest of the stairs and get into those perfect arms.

“Hi darlin’, looking irresistible as always.” He places his hand on the base of your neck and pulls you in for a heated kiss. His other hand slides down your back, caresses the swell of your ass and squeezes firmly. You press your body into his more and take in all this passion that is seeping from his lips. “E… you’re killing me. Didn’t get enough of that last night hmm?” you say teasingly.

“Baby, I was gone too long, I have lots of making up to do,” he says, giving you another hard squeeze, making you push into his body more and let out a soft moan.

“See, you just can’t help but want more,” he teases. Your eyebrow raises, shocked at his brazen bluntness.

“Elvis Presley! You are unbelievable!” you say pushing him back from you, trying your best not to laugh.

“Mmm tell me something I don’t already know,” he says, drinking you in with his eyes. You scoff and turn away and start to make your way to the kitchen as you had planned.

“You cocky son of a bitch,” you yell over your shoulder to him. “It wasn’t that good calm down,” you giggle knowing it’s going to piss him off. It’s a terrible lie to say because there was no truth to it! The way he took you and made you cum not once but three times last night has you craving him once again.

You go to sit down at the kitchen table and Mary, the cook, asks you what you felt like.

“Would you be able to make a turkey sandwich with the works?” you ask, giving her a big smile. “Of course dear. Oh Mr. Presley, would you like anything to eat too?”

Elvis looms over you, looking at you like you’re his next meal.

“No Mary, I’m alright thank you, honey.” Elvis proceeds to sit next to you and watch you eat your lunch. The heat and anger rolling off of him.

“So what are we doing today honey other than watching every bite I take out of this sandwich? Gonna watch me go to the bathroom too?” You turn your body to face his and feel him grab your thigh with his massive hand making a slapping sound when he does it.

“Well I was thinking of taking you out and buying you a new dress for my movie premiere I was gonna take you to, but I also think I need to fuck this sass out of you that you decided to wake up with today.” He growls and pulls you in closer, his hand creeping up your thigh.

“You really think you can tell me such things like I didn’t give you the best sex you’ve had in forever? How you were begging me to let you cum on me not twelve hours ago? Hmm.”

You want to put up a fight, you want to put him over the edge and wind him up so tight.

“Oh, that was just a little acting on my part honey. No big deal.” You press your lips together to stop from smiling.

His face is pure shock. He is at a loss for words and all he can do is tighten his grip on your thigh. You could end this right now and have him carry you upstairs and let him ravage you for hours. But you want to keep teasing and see what he’ll do.

”Mr. Presley, you actually think that’s gonna work? Do you think you can just fuck me into being exactly how you want me to be and say exactly what you want to hear? Like a submissive little whore hmm?”

“Well from the sounds of it last night, yes, it worked perfectly and I know I can do it again and again,” he growls through his teeth. You love getting this rise out of him.

It’s like poking a bear in hibernation, you know it's a terrible idea but you still want to see what happens.

“Oh honey, I’d love to see you try. You can’t make me kneel for you that easy. Probably don’t have it in you to fuck me again like that anyway,” You tear his hand off you and get up from the table.

“So are we picking up that dress for me or what?” your voice full of fire and waiting for his next reaction.

His face was stone cold and his eyes were blazing. You know he wants to spank some sense into you but he holds his ground. He stands up calmly and walks slowly toward you, the flame ready to ignite. He grabs your chin with his hand, “sure darlin’, let’s go shopping. This should be fun,” He goes over to the phone to let his bodyguards know he’s going out. “Bring the Limo out front, we’re going into town,” he says coldly as he looks back at you with controlled rage you can’t help but look away with how much power he is holding over you and go upstairs to grab your purse.

The Colonel gifted the 1967 Lincoln Executive Limousine to Elvis a few weeks ago to welcome him home from set. You didn’t trust any of the Colonel’s intentions with Elvis. You always had a weird feeling about him and he definitely did not like you. “You know, any distraction for Elvis was a bad one,” he told you the first day you met and you were made well aware of how you perceived.

The limo pulls up to the front of Graceland and Elvis’s hand burns into your back as he leads you in front of him into the limo. You sit down and try to put as much distance between yourself and his raging body but he has a tight grip on your waist and slides himself right next to you. You look out the window trying to not give him an ounce of your attention.

“Red, roll up the partition will ya? I forgot my sunglasses and the light is killin me,” he says, annoyance filling his words.

“No problem EP.” The partition starts to roll up and make a pop when in place.

Elvis’ eyes are locked on you and the tension in the small space is suffocating you.

“Can I help you with something honey? Use your words dear,” You know you are taking things too far and you are going to pay for them later but you like this slice of control in your hands.

Elvis’ hands are on your throat quick, pushing you to lie down on the long back seat of the limo with him straddling you. He stares down at you waiting for the next smart-ass thing to come out of your mouth. You give him a coy smile and he puts his face close to yours.

“You are going to wish you never talked to me like that again little girl,” he scoffs at you.

He spreads your legs open and picks your tights up from your thigh and tears the thin material that is covering your tummy and crotch with his fingers. He presses two fingers at your entrance and pushes the fabric of your panties in. You let out a muffled moan as you bite your lip.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, darling,” his voice full of venom, “you are going to lay here, in pure silence while I eat this pussy out, showing who you belong to.” You squirm in protest but he just shoves his fingers deeper inside you to still you. “I will do anything I want to do to you today and you will learn to never talk to me like that again. No man can fuck you the way I can. You are mine. All mine. Nod if you understand.” Your body aches for him. You want him to fuck you right here in this backseat but the staying quiet part has you dying. The sounds that Elvis would make come out of you were ones you’ve never felt the need to hide! He loved hearing how good you felt and how much you loved his dick. You slowly nod and squint your eyes shut.

Your wetness is pooling and his mouth starts to trail down close to your core. You need his mouth on you.

He removes your panties and tosses them on the floor. He places one long lick through your folds and you gasp at the sensation. He looks up at you as he starts to suck lightly on your clit, examining every single reaction from you.

You’re so on edge and want so much more but you’re at his mercy now. He laps up more of your wetness as it’s seeping out. His tongue enters you for a moment and you arch your back, moving your hips forward and causing you to groan out in pleasure.

“What did I say about stayin’ quiet?” He shoots you a look that runs a chill down your spine.

“I guess I didn’t hear that part,” you smirk at him.

His mouth is covered in your juices and he makes a smirk as he’s looking down at your pussy.

“Well I’m gonna have to change that,” he shoves two fingers inside you and you cover your mouth trying to hold back the moan you want to let out.

“You better stop moaning like the lil’ whore that you are darlin’. Look at you just squeezing my fingers wishing it was my cock instead.”

You squeeze the leather seats needing to release this pent-up frustration. Your pussy flutters around him wanting so much more.

He starts to pump his fingers in and out of you at a faster tempo, curling them inside you and making you roll your eyes back in your head. You loved the way this was feeling but wanted to scream out his name more than anything.

Elvis places his mouth back on your clit and starts sucking on it driving you mad. He knows exactly what you like and eats you out like his life depends on it.

You can feel your climax looming and want to tell him how to get you there. But you have no idea what he’s going to do if you utter another word. Suddenly the limo stops and you hear Red yell, “EP, we’re here, ready to go?” Elvis takes his mouth off of you and turns his head toward the front of the car.

“Give me a second Red. Go ahead and just wait outside.” You hear both car doors open and then slam closed. Elvis just stares at you writhing in anticipation, your body ready to have its release.

“Mmm I feel you’re close baby, you want me inside you? Do you think you deserve that?” You nod at him, giving him your most pleading eyes hoping he will give you what you need. He twists his fingers inside you, seeing what gives him the biggest reaction. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet though dear. You have never talked to me so rudely and frankly, I’m fuckin’ pissed.” You grab at his arms, trying to get him to keep going. He’s never left you unsatisfied and you think today might be the day.

He pulls his fingers out of you, licks them, and sits back to look at you. “No you don’t get your way today and you’ll have to wait, honey,” he looks down at his hand and takes off his EP ring on his index finger, and holds it up to you, “You see this baby? You want me inside you so bad? This is all you get of me inside of you. You’re not allowed to take it out til I say so. This is what you deserve after being such a brat. You get to walk around all day begging me to take this ring out of you and put my cock inside you instead. Maybe then you’ll realize how good my cock is.”

You feel the coldness of the ring slide into your dripping cunt and moan at the feeling.

“Goddamn it E, you’re trying to kill me aren’t you?! Fuck…” You place your hands at your lower tummy where there is so much pressure forming you are craving any ounce of release. He laughs at the sight in front of him, “you brought this onto yourself, honey. Now come on let's go get that dress for you.”

You step out of the limo and Red and Sunny do a double take at you and the expressions on their faces are full of questions. You realize you don't have your tights on anymore and your hair is falling out of place. Now they both understand what was going on in the back seat and you blush and look away.

Elvis made you try on a million different dresses and none of them were up to his standards. But ultimately, he just loved to watch you squirm in public and make you wait longer for him to take you. After you tried on the fifteenth dress of the day, you had enough of Elvis’ game and stormed back into the dressing room seething.

Elvis comes in behind you and closes the door.

“What’s wrong honey? I thought you wanted to try on dresses today?” his voice full of sarcasm.

“Oh don’t even with me right now Elvis!” You go to sit down on the stool in the dressing room and slump in defeat.

“Okay, we can go now, you can get the third one, honey. That was the best one I liked.” He gets on his knees and lifts up the long floor-length dress and starts to rub your thigh, spreading your legs apart. “How is my baby doing? Being so good and patient. You still have my ring?” His words make your core throb and more wetness pools down your thigh.

Your voice is low and shaky, “yes I do honey. I’ll do anything you want me to do. Please I’ll never say such lies again.”

He places two fingers on your entrance, sliding them up and down your slit.

“Mmm, I feel how wet you are lil mama. This pussy is dying for my attention. Makes me hard just thinking about it.” He leans his head into your crotch and gives your mound a sensual kiss. You moan into the sensation and grab his hair tight. He starts to rub your clit in slow circular motions, the sound of your wetness filling the quiet dressing room. You lean into the friction he’s giving and moan out a bit too loud. “Shhh honey, don't want us to get kicked out now do we.” He teases and he applies more pressure to that sensitive bundle of nerves. He stops and lowers your dress back down and makes you change back into your skirt and sweater.

“Let’s go,” he mumbles under his breath and harshly closes the dressing room door.

Elvis puts cash on the counter and leaves with the dress in hand for you. You both leave the boutique and jump into the limo still waiting outside. As soon as the door closes, Elvis’ lips crush into yours with so much intensity. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him like he’s your oxygen. He raises your skirt and palms your wet heat. You realize you’re getting some of your wetness on the leather seats. He looks at your scrunched-up skirt with your pussy peeking out underneath and lets out a breathy sigh. He makes you straddle his thigh and continues to kiss you. He grabs a handful of your hair and the other hand on your hip, fully in control of you. He squeezes and pulls your hair tight and you involuntarily start to grind yourself into his strong thigh.

“Oh you just gonna make a mess all over me like always,” he chuckles and stills your hips. “I don’t think so, honey.”

“Oh fuck,” you cry out, just feeling the vibration of the car and the bumps in the road causing random moments of friction. The roughness of his slacks rubbing on your clit is driving you to the edge. Your wetness starts to cover his pants and make a translucent strip where you are sitting on him. You kiss him more vigorously and in your way, show him how badly you need him. Suddenly, the car stops to a halt and Elvis stills your hips.

“Goddamn it.” you moan out. He’s much stronger than you and gets you off of his leg. He looks down and inspects the mess you’ve left on his leg. Your eyes trail up and see his cock getting hard.

“Hmm, you still don’t like how I fuck you hmm? Just more lies from the look of the mess on my pants. I’m going to have to teach you a lesson upstairs, mama.”

You have no more fight left in you and just shake your head yes at him. He opens the car door and reaches his hand out to get you. Once you make your first step out, he lifts you off your feet and carries you holding your body in his arms. Going up the stairs up to the bedroom he closes the door with his foot and places you on the bed and goes to lock the door.

“Take off your clothes for me baby. Nice and slow.”

You raise the sweater off of your body and toss it aside. You stand up in front of him and unbutton the top button and slowly slide down the rest of the skirt.

He bites his lower lips and stares. “Turn around for me, let me see all of you.”

You do a slow turn on your heels and he stills you when your back side is completely facing him. He lets out a soft groan and pulls you toward the mirror in the corner of the room. He turns you around and you see red partial handprints on the middle and the side of your ass he left from last night. “Do you see that honey, that means you’re mine. Looking so beautiful,” he turns you around to face him, “Are you ready to learn your lesson baby? Ready to do anything I want?”

“Yes…, baby I’m ready,” you whisper.

“Mmm… get on your knees for me.” You listen and kneel down to him, waiting for his next demand.

He unbuttons his shirt and takes off his pants and his cock is at eye level with you.

He jerks himself off a bit, his tip dripping with precum just begging to be sucked off.

“Here’s what I want you to do honey, you’re going to take this cock in your mouth and suck me off nice and slow. Then, I'll take that ring out of you and you’ll get on top of me and try to take all of this cock inside you. You’ll ride me till you cum so hard and your body gives out.”

You whimper and look up at him, wanting all of his attention poured out to you.

“Open your mouth for me,” he says as he grabs a fist full of hair and gets you into position. You open your mouth wide and you lick the precum that’s dripping out of his tip.

You roll your tongue in slow circles around him, taking your time knowing how much he loves it. You look up at him through your eyelashes and see his mouth agape and his eyebrows furrowed together.

He starts to push your head forward, taking in more of his cock. You flatten your tongue out on the bottom of his shaft and watch as he lets out a breathy moan. You can’t help but smile that you have this effect on this man. The man that could have anyone on this planet, chose you and loves how you make him feel.

“You need to take more lil mama,” he whispers out and he starts to move your head over his cock at a faster pace. Drool is starting to come out of your mouth as you take more of his impressive size in your mouth.

You can’t help but moan out loving the feeling of him using you like this. This was the most submissive he’s ever made you and you couldn’t lie to yourself; you loved it.

“You gonna talk to me like that again honey? Going to deny me and tell me you didn’t even like how I fucked you last night?”

At those words he pushes his cock down your throat, causing you to gag around him. He pulls himself out of you waiting for his answer.

“No baby, I won’t do that anymore. I’m sorry…” you put your mouth back on him and he hits the back of your throat again causing a low moan.

“Mmm, good. Being such a good girl. Get up now honey.” You start to stand and your legs feel so weak. You want him to ravage you but you know he’s still going to tease you. You look down at the carpet and you see a pool of your arousal sitting there. You are desperate for him to get this ring out of you.

He drags you to the bed and places you on your back, legs spread wide. “You’ve been so good honey, keep still now.” He places his index finger inside you, hooking it inside you and pulling the ring out. He looks at it closely, moaning when he sees how much arousal has covered it and made it extra slick. He slips it back on the finger it came from and leans down to kiss you.

“Are you ready to ride me now? I think you’ve learned your lesson and need to be fucked. Come on,” he says as he lays on his back and pulls you on top of him.

You feel his cock rub against your entrance and the rest of it bends back toward your ass as you hover above him on your knees. You normally don’t ride him because, for one, he’s a lot to take in from this angle, and two, he always is the one that wants to take care of you and likes to be on top. You can only think about two times you’ve been on top and it was torture to try to stay on top that long.

“Come on honey, I need to be inside you.” He moans.

You can’t control how shakey you are and lean on one knee and lift your other leg to get his cock in the front of your body. You look at him waiting to get the okay to slowly sink down on him. He nods his head and you squat on your feet and stretch your body up to try and take him inside you.

You slowly sink down on his cock and love the feeling of him stretching you. The hours of teasing that he’s been doing to you has you so wet that you’re able to take him a bit easier.

“Fuck, you look so good on me baby. Love watching you take me so easily.” He starts to rub your hard nipples in between his thumb and index fingers causing you to moan and sink down more on his cock.

“Oh yes baby,” you say breathlessly. He continues to pinch your nipples causing you to squint your eyes shut.

You start to pick up the pace and slide yourself up and down on his cock a bit faster, taking a few more inches of him in. He lets go of your nipples and runs his hands down your body and grabs your hips tight. You pop open your eyes again and look at this ethereal-looking man with lust burning through him.

“Take more of me baby like this,” he groans out and lifts his hips up, and sinks his cock deeper into your pussy. You both grunt at the feeling and you grab onto his arms that are holding you down.

“Oh fuck Elvis,” you scream out, “oh god that’s so deep.”

“Oh, you like it like that honey?” He growls as he bucks his hips into you again causing you to take the entirety of him inside you. You yelp at the sudden stretching and he stills your hips. You want more than anything to buck wild on him but he doesn’t let you have that control yet. Pleasure is coursing through you and love how he feels.

“Oh yes… honey yes! Please let me move, I need to ride your cock.” You’re eyes wide, pleading with him to stop this teasing and let you make him feel good too.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just waits to find the right thing to say. He bucks up again making you roll your eyes into the back of your head.

“Tell me who this pussy belongs to.” He demands, and moves his hips up again.

“Y-you honey.” You gasp out.

“Mhmm, that’s right. Tell me my cock is the best one you’ve ever had,” he grunts out as he bucks his hips again into you hard.

“Ah god, your cock is the best I’ve ever had, please, oh god” you couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of your mouth but Elvis had you wrapped around his finger.

“No, don't say it to god, say it to me. Say it to your daddy.” He growls out and thrusts into you twice and your pussy involuntarily squeezes him at the sound of his words.

“Daddy, your cock is the best I’ve ever had. The best I’ll ever have. Please let me ride this big dick now,” he bites his lower lip at the sound of your words and he thrusts into you more.

“Good baby, yes, you can ride me.” He loosens the grip he has on your hips and he starts moving you up and down.

He fills you so completely and it’s overwhelming at first. He moves his hands up to your breasts and squeezes them firmly. You bounce on him and love how he is hitting those spots inside you that make you want to see the stars.

With him fully inside you, you start to grind back and forth on his cock causing your clit to rub on him bringing your orgasm that much closer.

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the smooth and fuzzy chest hairs on his perfectly sculpted body. You look at him watching every last detail; him closing his eyes, then opening them back up and nodding his head at you to keep fucking him like this.

Your legs were getting weak and couldn’t keep the same pace very well. Elvis knew you were close and watched you try to ride and grind yourself into orgasm.

“Look at you lil mama, riding this cock so good. You’re so close I can feel it. Do you want me to help you?

“Yes p-please,” you whisper.

“Please what?” He snaps back at you.

“Please daddy! Please let me cum on this cock,” you beg and claw at his arms leaving red streaks down them. This poor man will have battle wounds every time you two fuck.

He lets out a guttural moan and leans his head back into the pillows and starts fucking you faster, holding you down by the hips and fucking you hard. You can’t help the loud moans coming out of you as he’s pounding into you.

“Yes daddy, keep fucking me. Feels so good,” you cry out hoping no one can hear you downstairs but it’s probably too late.

“Cum for me honey. Let me feel how much you love this cock,” he says watching you continue to ride him and feel your walls start to squeeze him.

The release comes over you so fast and you hold onto Elvis for dear life as you ride through your orgasm. You squeeze his long girth over and over, feeling your juices run down him.

He keeps this pace making you weak and an absolute mess.

“Does my lil’ whore like it when I cum inside her?”

“Yes, d-daddy. I love it so much.” You gasp out.

“Fuck, being so good for daddy. I’m gonna cum baby mmm,” he moans out and thrusts harder and faster. The wetness that’s residing in between your thighs, echoes in the room each time he thrusts into you. He squeezes your hips tight knowing they’ll probably leave bruises and buries his cock deep inside you. Not long after, he starts to cum deep inside you, moaning your name.

“Oh fuck y/n you feel so good,” he gasps out as his orgasm is finishing.

You look down at him and see the fire in his eyes slowly start to dissipate. You get to enjoy the moment with him and calm each other down from the intense feelings going through you both.

You lay on his chest, listening to his fast heartbeat start to slow down to a normal pace.

He runs circles on your back and you let out a low hum. You loved how close you were and the feeling of touching his sweaty, sticky skin.

You get up off of Elvis and his semi-hard erection slaps on his tummy. He gets up to get you two a towel and you lay there on the bed completely spent. He comes back and looks at how you’re laying out on the bed. He kneels next to you and wipes you clean, giving your forehead kisses.

“So, was that just okay for you?” He quips with so much sass filling his voice. You can’t help but smile and shake your head at this man.

“Yes, daddy, it was so good I loved it.”

“Good darlin. I love hearing you call me daddy,” he leans over you and kisses you, slipping his tongue in your mouth. You moan into him, loving how there is a tingle throughout your body. “I think you’ve learned your lesson to not talk to me like that again,” he smirks at you

“I did, I promise daddy.”

He kisses your nose and smiles that perfect smile you’ve loved for so long.

“So, not sure what you want to do for the rest of the day but I’m leaving it up to you. I already told you what I wanted from you,” he chuckles and you throw the pillow at him turning beet red.

“Maybe we can watch some movies together later hun how does that sound?” You say hoping he has nothing else to do today and can just relax with you.

“Sure honey, I just need to take care of something first.” He says as he goes into his closet to grab some pants and a shirt. You roll your eyes at him, there’s always something with this man. You huff hoping he can hear you from there.

“Don’t start huffing at me,” he points his finger at you, “I need to go downstairs and explain to everyone that there wasn’t a woman getting murdered in my bedroom just now and apologize for the disturbance it caused everyone.” He grabs your face with his cold rings pressing into it. He can’t help but let a smirk come out and you do the same.

“Sorry…daddy…” you whisper looking up at him for forgiveness.

“Good girl” he coos and kisses you again before wrapping you up in the blankets.

“I’ll be right back honey, stay there looking perfect.” You nod at him and wink, loving how this perfect man makes your heart so full.

Tagging

@plasticfantasticl0ver @aconflagrationofmyown @powerofelvis @returntoelvis @burninlovebutler @lindszeppelin

[with-love-from-hell]

Melancholia

{part Ten}

Fandom: Obey me!

Genre: Angst

Written for F!Mc

WC: 3k

CW: Kidnapping!,  Michael is a heavy antagonist and angels are fucked up, slut shaming/victim blaming, mention of suicide vaguely, fear-based content and lots of tension, angst, depression, mentions to past sexual violence in Vermillion Skies, Torture, anxiety, descriptions of deceit, season 2 spoilers

A/n: Michael is quite the wad in this chapter, just as a fair warning! I will be discussing his character in my brain more in the q&a post later on, so send in your questions about the series to my inbox! Also I apologize if the formatting seems wonky or out of order...tumblr is deciding to test my patience this morning.

Music Accompaniment (Point of No Return thru No Love)

>> Though I have a Masters Degree in Psychology and clinical training in treatment for mental health, I am not your therapist. If you have experienced any form of depression or suicidal thoughts, and are in need of help, please utilize the Suicide Prevention Lifeline, NIMH helpline, or the SAMHSA helpline. <<

Series Masterlist  

You can find more of this series by searching the tag #Vermillion Skies or #Melancholia on my blog!

“Are you sure that’s what you saw?” Diavolo’s eyes darted between Simeon and Belphie. He wanted desperately for their concerns to just be baseless anxiety, but the grim look on Luke’s face made his heart sink deeper into his stomach. The phone call he had received from Lucifer hours prior was alarming, but he figured the sounds of shuffling and distant grunts meant he had just pocket dialed him. He never would have expected mc and Lucifer to end up missing, and in the brutish hands of the Archangels, no less. After what he had seen Simeon go through, he only hoped that they could get to them before its too late.

“I’m almost 100% certain that Michael has taken both of them.” Simeon clenched his fists, fighting back his demon form. “I don’t know what he’s planning, but it will surely be nothing good.”

Diavolo’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I see...” 

Luke squeezed his eyes shut to prevent himself from crying. His grip on Simeon’s sleeve tightened as he tried to make himself calm down. How could this be happening? Michael was a good angel; a merciful angel. This had to have been some sort of mistake!

There was a moment of silence as the brothers looked amongst eachother with uncertainty. 

“Well...ain’t we gonna do somethin’ ‘bout this?!” Mammon finally asked, giving a pointed look to Diavolo and Barbatos. "We should be stormin' that fuckin' palace and destroying everythin' in sight!"

A tense sigh passed through Diavolo’s lips as he massaged the slight headache developing at his brow line. “Mammon, it’s not that simple. We have no idea where they’re being held, or why. We have no idea what their next move will be, and we dont know what they'll do when they hear of our rescue efforts.” 

“And we certainly don’t have the manpower amongst us to fight the entire celestial army, even with our combined strength.” Satan paced while rubbing his chin, trying hard to think of how they could get both Lucifer and Mc back with the least amount of bloodshed. 

“I just...I d-don’t understand...” Luke shook his head, still trying to wrap his head around what was happening. “W-why would Michael do something like this?!” 

The demons looked amongst each other, unsure of how to respond to the small angel’s query. They felt so much pity for him. He was really having his worldview tested more over the past 4 months than than he had in his entire life.

“Michael is obsessive.” Solomon chimed in as he entered the room, a bag of tinking glassware slung over his shoulder. “He sees Mc as a threat, and it appears as though his desire to renew the exchange program was a ploy to get our guard down so he can neutralize that threat. I only wish i would have picked up on the signs sooner.” 

The remaining color left in Luke’s face drained, and he stared at Solomon, wide-eyed. “W-what..? Do...do you mean they’ll...”

Solomon locked eyes with him for a second, a glint of sadness passing through his expression. “They’re going to try to kill her, yes.” 

Simeon shook his head, finding himself feeling strangely numb in this moment. "They wont just do that. They've risked too much in even kidnapping Mc.” 

Everyone in the room turned to him, looks of pure terror on their faces. The fact that the situation would likely provide Mc with more trauma was enough to try to stomach already, but to run the risk of losing her again made their blood run cold. Each waited with baited breath for what Simeon had to add to suggest that it could get worse than you’re death. 

Simeon sighed, avoiding their desperate eyes. “Michael had said over and over that their worst mistake he made during your fall was not ensuring Lilith had been unable to be reincarnated. To ensure that Lilith’s bloodline won’t ever be able to cause a disturbance in the celestial realm again, they are going to attempt to wipe her from existence, along with the one person who could and would stop at nothing to ensure they would never see another day of peace. The one person who, without him, would leave the Devildom vulnerable in the event of an all-out war.” 

The brothers each dropped their eyes to the floor, slowly understanding what Simeon was getting at. 

Not only would they kill Mc- but they were going to kill Lucifer too. 

“But...But...” Luke stuttered, looking amongst the brothers. "Michael's a good angel! He couldn’t...H-he wouldn’t...” 

Tears burst from Luke’s eyes, now fully unable to hold back any more. Simeon kneeled, wrapping his arms around him gently, and allowed the small angel to sob into his shoulder. Simeon glanced to Diavolo, who’s expression had become a mixture of grim anticipation, and deep anger. 

“My lord, what would you suggest our next move be?” Barbatos did his best to bite his tongue, but was holding onto his sanity by a mere thread. It was bad enough that you had to be taken and threatened with death, but to have a close friend and necessary ally suffer the same punishment made the situation all the more dire. He himself wanted to charge in and swiftly decapitate any angel that crossed his path, but he knew that running in without a plan would be foolish. "If what Simeon says is true, we are already at a major disadvantage given they have been in their grasp for nearly 5 hours. We don’t have much more time left to lose.” 

Before Diavolo could even respond, Beelzebub stepped forward, catching his attention. His normal flat expression was turned into an furious scowl, his muscles bulging under his shirt with all the tension he held in his body. The prince didn’t think he’d ever seen the avatar of Gluttony so angry before. 

“Our next move should be getting our family back, no matter what it takes.” He stated matter-of-factly, but there was a lust for blood behind his tone that neither of the royals, nor his brothers, had ever heard from the 6th born. “I’ll annihilate their entire army by myself if I have to.” 

“While I agree we should prioritize their safety before politics, we mustn’t forget that charging in without a plan only gives them the advantage.” Diavolo sighed. “Though right now, I am frankly at a loss for how to develop one that won’t just be a suicide mission.” 

Beel closed his eyes, trying to refrain from snapping on the prince. He was terrified for your wellbeing, and didn't think he could handle the uncertainty of your fate for much longer. He needed you- all of his brothers did. And they needed Lucifer too. Without both of you, his family would fall apart. No one would ever be able to recover from such a loss.

Luke stared between Beelzebub and Diavolo, almost as if he couldn’t understand what they were both saying. 

“First we should decide who will be doing what.” Simeon stated, now rising from his knees. He gestured toward Solomon to take Luke from him, who quickly scrambled to replace Simeon’s place as Luke’s support. 

Barbatos nodded. “We should establish a rendezvous point as well, in case we get separated.”

Simeon looked to Barbatos, nodding in agreement. “I think it goes without saying that Diavolo and Luke will be staying behind.” 

“What?!” Luke and Diavolo both yelled at the same time, seemingly insulted by the assertion that they would not be helping. 

“Yeah, What?” Mammon added, crossing his arms. “I understand leavin’ the Chihuahua behind, but Diavolo’s got some mad strength. He could take down 10 seraphim at once without even tryin'!" 

“Really, Mammon!? You’re going to call me a Chihuahua now?!” Luke wiped his tears, shooting Mammon a glare. 

Barbatos interjected, ignoring Luke’s annoyance at the teasing name. “But if he is injured- or worse, killed- during battle, the Devildom will be without a leader. That’s not something we can afford. We would be susceptible to both external invasion and violent anarchy amongst the lower demons.” 

“Besides, it might be helpful to have someone here to prepare a space for injuries.” Satan added, tilting his chin toward Simeon. “If his vision is right...Mc and Lucifer could be in pretty awful shape...” 

Mammon winced at the idea of Mc being hurt again, not wanting to accept it as a possible reality. 

Diavolo sighed. “Fine, we’ll stay back for now. But if things go south...” He gave Barbatos a deathly serious look, “...I will not hesitate to charge in there- full force.” 

Luke shook his head, now pulling out of Solomon’s arms and nearly groveling to Simeon. “No! Wait, I...I could talk to Michael! I could get him to s-see reason!” 

Simeon closed his eyes and sighed. “Luke, I know this is hard for you to understand, which is why it’s best if you don’t get involved.” 

“But...Mc...” Luke swallowed back more tears, looking at the floor. “I...I want to help...t-to do something...”

“I know...I know.” Simeon took a deep breath to maintain the softness in his voice. He pressed both hands to Luke’s shoulder. “But the way that you can help is holding down a place for when we come back. Please Luke...this is what I need from you.” 

Luke sniffled, hanging his head and nodding. “O-okay.” 

Simeon gave him a firm hug, solidifying that things were going to be okay. He had experienced a loss of optimism for anything for so long. He hadn't felt the ability to cling to any sort of hope to allow him to move forward. Whether it be denial, fear, anger, or just wanting to see Mc smile one last time, the feeling allowed him to be strong enough to stand as an anchor for everyone else, and to make a plan to get them both back. He needed to be a rock for everyone else, who were near the edge of panic because the two who would normally take the lead were now indisposed.  

Mc and Lucifer will be brought back alive...they had to be.

Simeon stood, resting a firm hand on Luke’s shoulder. He pointed toward the brothers, giving fervent direction of what he wanted them to do. “Beel, you will be our tank.  Belphie and Satan, you’re his backup. Your job is to neutralize anyone in our way of getting to Lucifer and Mc.” 

The three looked at each other and gave a single nod to signify that they understood.

“Levi, and Mammon- you two will help me and Barbatos get into the Celestial prison cells to search for Mc and Lucifer. We will need help getting past guards, and the more people we have searching rooms, the better. You'll take the east wing, and Barbatos and I will be on the west wing.” 

“Got it.” Mammon nodded to Levi, winding up his shoulders to stretch the muscles. "I'll wipe the floor with any crumby angel that dares to do harm to the family of the Great Mammon!"

“Solomon- You and Asmo will take up the rear. Do what you can to ensure our portal home isn’t infiltrated and that the others have first aid in the event of an emergency. You will also be our center point of contact.” 

Asmo nervously glanced to Solomon, who pressed a reaffirming hand to his shoulder. “Not a problem.” 

“For the rest of us outside of Asmo and Solomon, our meet up point should be at the treeline just south of the prison.” Barbatos added, giving a nod to Simeon for thinking through the division of the groups. “If we need to change it, Solomon and Asmo will spread the message. No one should break off from their pairs. There's safety in numbers, after all.” 

The group nodded amongst each other, now preparing for what they assumed was going to be an absolutely bloodbath, and the beginning of the end of peace between the realms.

“Get up.” 

Lucifer groaned as the words echoed through his throbbing head. He tried to bring his awareness back- to figure out who the voice was, and where it was coming from. A swift kick to the stomach caused him to sputter, the pain pulling his consciousness back to the surface.

How long had he even been out?!

He forced his eyes open, trying to adjust to the dimly lit room he found himself in. As he tried to move his weak muscles, he found his arms restrained tightly behind his back. He looked up, trying to push his vision to convert the blurred outline into the image of the individual standing before him. 

“I said: Get. UP.” 

Lucifer snarled as the individual grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him up to his knees. He gritted his teeth as his vision adjusted to the shape of the blonde angel, who’s nose was only a few inches away from his own. 

“Stand, Demon.” Michael commanded, pulling on Lucifer’s hair again to make him stand. 

His knees buckled beneath his weight as he tried to remain standing. Eventually he was able to keep his balance, albeit barely. He hadn’t felt this groggy since Diavolo had spiked his tea with tranquilizer a few months prior. His mind wandered briefly to you, and he was desperate to know where they were holding you. He hoped that you were safe, but given the aggressive handling that Michael and the guards were treating him with, he concluded they were probably weren’t treating you much better.  Regardless, he knew he had to figure out a way out of his binds- to make sure you were safe again in his arms.

Michael snapped his fingers, signaling for two armored guards came to Lucifer’s side. They hooked their arms under his armpits and followed Michael out of the room. Lucifer swallowed hard, taking note of his surroundings. Clearly, he was in the celestial palace, but he was unsure of his specific whereabouts- that is, until he was brought before the familiar, intimidating council doors. 

He narrowed his eyes, staring daggers into the back of Michael’s head. The last time he was here was when he was begging on his knees for Michael to help him to convince father to let Lilith live. An odd sense of familiarity washed over him as Michael grasped the handles on the doors. He swallowed hard, trying to bring back his cold and confident demeanor...but the fear about whether you both would make it out of this situation alive continued to sit like a rock in his stomach, making it hard to turn away from the anxiety.

Lucifer was thrown down to his knees roughly before the council. He gritted his teeth through the pain, trying to wiggle his arms our of their binds enough to where his shoulder wasn't threatening to dislocate. He took a deep breath before looking to the judging eyes of the council, but was surprised to see only two council members other than Michael who were looking at him with glares of hatred. The rest harbored a look of shock and uncertainty.

"Lucifer. It's been too long." Michael mused sarcastically with a wicked smile as he took his place amongst the council members. “I would love to say it’s good to see you, but unfortunately the mere sight of you is very unpleasant.”  

Lucifer tightened his jaw, but said nothing.

Michael cocked his head at him, the smile turning into a teasing smirk. "Come now, you're not going to even give us a proper greeting?"

Lucifer hissed his retort. "Fuck you."

Raphael winced as Michael let out a sickening chuckle. He looked to the other council members, noticing Uriel and Saraquael with similar grotesque smiles. Gabriel, Raguel, and Remiel, however, shared in his discomfort, and tossed nervous glances amongst each other.

"Uh, Michael..." Gabriel nervously chimed in after a pause, trying his best to keep a smile on his face, though it was clearly weathered from nerves. "We...we shouldn't delay in discussing why you've brought Lucifer before us so suddenly, especially considering you didn't not get all of our approval before doing so."

Lucifer lifted an eyebrow as Michael's eyelid twitched. The archangel slowly tilted his head back to look at Gabriel, his intense eyes boring holes into the second in command. "Approval was not necessary. I made an executive decision for the safety of the Celestial realm."

Lucifer furrowed his brow. Safety? What was he talking about??

"When you discussed the revamping of the exchange program, I did not expect this to be your ulterior motive." Raguel shook his head in disapproval as he scratched his long, grey beard. "This isn't right, Michael. Send him home."

"And the human too." Remiel added, a furious look on her face. "I know many angels- including yourself- are wary of deceit from humans after what happened with Simeon, but we have no right to-"

"Silence!" Michael slammed his fists on the podium in front of him, breathing hard. The other council members snapped their mouths shut, not wanting to evoke Michael's fury. "Humans as a race are not the problem here. I've explained this to you thick headed fools 5 times already!"

Remiel gasped quietly, looking to Raguel and Gabriel for support. They said noting, only looked on in shock at Michael’s behavior.

Michael continued. "The problem is this particular human, and those who enable her. She should be exterminated for her sins... and Lucifer..."

He glanced to his former brother over the rim of his glasses, seeing his eyes go wide with panic at the acknowledgement that he wanted to have you killed.

He shook his head. "Lucifer is our second biggest threat if we are to get rid of her, and as such he should be imprisoned indefinitely at the very least- if not sentenced to suffer the same fate."

"Agreed." Uriel stated, without hesitation. "It took 5 injections of the strongest sedative we had to bring him down."

"Who knows what destruction he could cause with those brothers of his if we didn't include him in this." Saraqael glared at him, seemingly disgusted by his actions. "We should have executed all of them after their betrayal instead of letting them fall. The blood of their sister still runs through their veins, and the veins of that wretch of a human."

Michael nodded as Lucifer's lips upturned into a snarl. "His brothers will come for him, and prove just how much destruction they're capable of- but they're no match for our army." He turned back to Gabriel, shaking his head once more. "Mercy for blasphemous actions are what lead Simeon to fall in the first place. Are you suggesting you're fine with every angel turning a blind eye to grace and becoming demons themselves? That simply will not do!"

Gabriel gulped, glancing toward Lucifer and then back to Michael. "Demons are allowed to make their own decisions for how they run their realm. Lucifer having the freedom to love a human doesn't concern us at all, Michael. We have already agreed not to become politically invested in the Devildom beyond maintaining peace."

Raguel stood, mirroring Michael's intensity with his hands firmly on his podium. He had enough of Michael's dictator like order over the council, and unfairness in making such extreme decisions without their input. As the oldest member of the council and a man of tradition, he was insulted by Michael's apparent insolence and side-stepping of the parliament rules. "What you've done is akin to a declaration of war! We're you not able to set aside your petty jealousy of father's favoritism for one moment to think of the consequences of your bull-headed actions!?"

"Tch!" He stood and rounded the podium to the front of the room where Lucifer knelt. He paced in front of him, dark brown irises glaring down intensely at the eldest brother, completely ignoring Raguel's words. "Tell me: What would we have done if this human wasn't given the ring of light?"

“I hardly see what this has to do with anything.” Remiel muttered, sharing a nervous glance with Raguel.

“Just answer the question.” Michael demanded, glancing amongst the council. “Tell me what would have happened.” 

Gabriel sighed, crossing his arms. "It was told to us by the sorcerer that her pacts with the brothers would have been revoked."

Michael let out a sickening laugh. "And you believed him?"

Gabriel was taken aback by his words. "I beg your pardon?"

"Lucifer needed to die in order to go with that route. Do you really think the demon prince, had he known, would have allowed that?"

There was a pause, before the hesitant council members slowly shook their heads.

Michael nodded, lips turning upwards into a smile. "Precisely. Now, wouldn't there be an easier option that would produce the same results? And it didn't even cross any of their minds."

The room wad quiet for a moment before Michael let out a 'tsk.'

"What they should have done was dispose of the threat. She not only holds pacts with 7 of the strongest demons at their disposal and could be considered a danger to both the Celestial Realm and the Devildom in that right, but weilding that power has made the entire fabric of the universe unstable."

Michael turned to Lucifer, crossing his arms. "Now, wouldn't such a danger to the 3 world's go directly against your precious Diavolo's plans?"

Lucifer swallowed, but remained silent.

"It would." He answered for him, turning back to the council. "And yet, his love for the human resulted in them risking the stability of not just the Devildom, but the Celestial Realm and the human world as well!"

"The solution that was arrived at was a suitable one." Raguel argued. "Providing the human with the ring of light was more than a reasonable solution, And I remember that you had hidden it from the council. Even after Simeon approached us with the option, you were still vehemently against it because of your own pride."

Michael glared at the older archangel. "And what if she were to take the ring off?"

Remiel sighed. "You saw it with your own eyes, Michael. She was terrified. Why in heavens name would she do that?"

"It doesn't matter how or why." Uriel nodded toward Michael. "His point still stands that it's a possibility, and made the option a mediocre one at best."

Raphael gripped his pants tightly in his fist. He wasn't sure who to side with at this point, and kept finding himself thinking back to Luke and the interactions he witnessed between the two of you. Raphael was still indifferent toward you, considering the bias he initially came into the Devildom with, but even a week with you was enough to sway his opinion slightly in the opposite direction.

Perhaps Michael was obsessed and blinded by anger and power, like Raguel had said to him before the meeting.

"Michael...y-you've gone mad..." Gabriel shook his head in a panic. "This isn't the way father would-"

"And how are you to know what father wants!" Michael snapped back. "I am the leader of this council, and I am the direct executor of his will!"

"Enough, Michael!" Remiel shouted, now standing. "The council was elected as a whole to execute father’s will. Cease this absurdity at once, and release these two back to Devildom! They are innocent!"

"Innocent!? Hah!" Michael laughed sarcastically at her. "Even meeting Mc in real life was enough to convince me she is anything but!"

Lucifer growled in warning, wanting desperately to tell Michael to keep your name off his lips.

Michael shook his head, feeling a shiver run through his spine as he remembered his encounter with the human. The way he felt such an unnatural pull toward her made him feel so disgraceful, and only re-affirmed his mindset on how dangerous she was. "Just the way in which she was dressed told me everything about her intentions. She’s clearly well able to use manipulation and seduction to her advantage. No wonder demons and angels alike have a difficult time controlling themselves around her- clearly she's inviting them to defile her!"

"Shut your fucking mouth!" Lucifer finally spat at him, finding himself enraged at the suggestion that your state of dress they had captured you in- that was supposed to be for his eyes only- was somehow an excuse for the trauma you suffered. His eyes bore holes into Michael's as they stared each other down. Lucifer panted, snarling at him as he wrestled with his binds, wanting to beat Michael to death right there.

"Tch." Michael narrowed his eyes. "How pitiful."

"Look, Michael..." Gabriel sighed, "despite your personal feelings on the matter, this entire situation needs further discussion, both amongst the council and with father directly. Until that is done, these two are not to be harmed, and should be returned home."

"We are not doing anything to either of them as long as there is disagreement among the council." Remiel reiterated Gabriel’s words, glaring at Michael with her emerald eyes filled with fire. "That is final."

Michael let out another sickening laugh, making the opposing council members' blood run cold. Even the two who were on his side lost the smirks they displayed through the meeting at the unsettling sound of it.

"This was not a request for any stupid debate, or a vote." He smirked toward Lucifer, who continued to glare at him. "This was just a warning to you that the wheels of retribution are already moving. Her punishment was started well before this meeting, and I saw to it personally."

"Wait...what?" Raphael finally spoke, unsure of what to make of Michael’s words. He glanced uneasily toward Uriel and Saraqael, who shared in his confusion. "Y-you said you would get the councils permission before...before-"

The color drained from Lucifer's face as Michael's smile grew. He felt his stomach churn as Michael folded his arms over his chest, staring Raguel down as the realization of what he had done sunk in to everyone in attendance.

"M-Michael... what did you do to that human?" Gabriel stuttered out, completely blindsided by Michael's descent into madness. He glanced to Lucifer, seeing the Avatar of Pride barely holding on to his emotions.

Michael stayed silent, watching the horror on their faces grow with each passing second. His wicked smile told them everything they needed to know.

[goldenpinof]

Idk if any of your anons needs to hear that BUT

First: I relate to everyone who feels awkward, not sure etc don't think they will communicate with anyone. Like I got into them in early 2020 when I moved to another country alone, pandemic etc I had suddenly found a new hyper fixation which helped me to get through the rough times. I mean everybody know the following years were even worse. So now I want to go, but I was lurking for so long and I'm not sure that I can be considered a fan? (even tho I'd consider myself one). Like I feel kinda guilty for taking someone's place? Don't ask, I'll leave this discussion for my therapist. But at the same time I want to experience it cuz I'm not sure if there will ever be a chance? So meet the second part of my ramble:

Second: I'm hugely experienced with going "on tour", I mean following someone on tour. Like with the certain band/musician from this band who's got multiple projects, I'm very deep in the fandom for almost 20 years (gosh I'm old. Oh btw there's another fear, I'll be 36 by the time of the tour and that's why I stick by Tumblr not Twitter, at least I don't feel like I'm close to the age of someone's parents), that I just know the first 200 people who queue for the this person's/band's gigs from the 4 am and I feel so at home there that meeting someone new have never been a problem. So it's like not something alien to me, but still too many new people and I can't even discuss it with anyone irl. So yeah

But this is there my thought was actually going: why are people so surprised that someone want to go to a few dates?! Like from the gigs experience I just know every single one feels different and I'm sure every single show will feel unique too. And it's the people yeah.

So I apologise Kate for using your box as my cancelled therapy session and talking SO MUCH.

i thought you were referring to the Antwerp/Frankfurt anon. you had me in the first half, not gonna lie!

you're not taking someone else's place. like, there are gonna be hunger games, but probably only for VIP, and only because we're a bit crazy. i really hope we don't break any website, and AXS isn't gonna decide to repeat the wad taping situation. ultimately, we're in the same position no matter how much people like to threaten each other because some left the phandom and then returned 😂

anyway, yeah! i'm turning 30 in the middle of the tour. so if everything goes well, i'm gonna see them when i'm 29 and then 30. speaking of old, that's fucking devastating!

each show is different, and travelling is cool. so, i very much get people who go to multiple shows. like, enjoy life while you can, you know 🫶

[itsclydebitches]

I'm not the same anon but I do think that keeley repeatedly saying "we're just friends" for an entire episode only for people to completely ignore her words the moment roy says he wants something more is... fucked up, to say the least

I wad afraid of speaking up because I thought I was the only one that saw it lol

I too looked at her expression, the way she says "roy...", how fast she lets go of his hand and how cheery she is towards jamie, how even roy notices and focuses on her letting go of his hand so fast (because viewers are meant to notice it as well!)

But people just went "omg she touched his hand! who cares that she spent an entire episode saying she wants him as a friend and looks almost panicked at that moment! she clearly wants to jump back in a romantic relationship with him!"

I felt crazy lol but now I feel validated

The show tried to show a strong and independent keeley... only for her to enter yet another relationship and end up needing rebecca's financial help again.

A huge issue I have with the show is that keeley's story in each season revolves around her romantic relationships. And people eat it up because "uwu ships!"

I think that in a show that gave us such badass female characters like rebecca, sassy, nora, sharon, etc., what they did to keeley in season 3 is a shame and a disservice to her character

Season 3 was perfect to show her as the strong, independent woman keeley proclaims herself to be in season 1

She could have brought some of that "Lasso effect" to her new office, become a badass boss and entrepreneur

Instead once again her story revolves around her romantic interests, she loses the firm, is betrayed by a close friend, and has fan fave roy pressure her to get back with him as soon as she's out of an abusive relationship

The only true moment of brilliance I saw from her was in 3x08 when her pics and videos were leaked and she refused to make a public apology and stood her ground (roy's behavior was quite abysmal right there btw)

It's true that this doesn't feel like a "last season of the series" storyline for keeley

It's looks like a really good setup for a spinoff, maybe?

I really hope she ends season 3 as a happy single woman focused of rebuilding her career

Woo feeling validated in fandom interpretations! I know that feeling oh so well lol

As said, I need to give the last episode a re-watch, especially since I personally haven’t come across anyone making light of Keeley’s apparent discomfort. Which isn’t to say that those posts don’t exist, just that they haven’t made their way to my pocket of the fandom and thus I’m not really in a position to comment on their validity (or lack thereof).

However, I do disagree with the take that Keeley being in relationships this season is a “disservice” to her character. Honestly, I think both you and the previous anon are coming from a rather narrow idea of what a “strong independent woman” looks like. It’s an incredibly understandable viewpoint given media history -- wherein woman are written primarily as sex objects and/or fridged lovers for man pain -- but in this case I think those expectations are blinding fans to Keeley’s canonical complexity.

As an important reminder to readers in general, Season 3 did not suddenly arrive with romance plotlines that derailed Keeley’s otherwise good writing. Romance and sexuality are baked into her core characterization, right from Episode One. So yes, if you're not at all a fan of that characterization then Keeley is never going to work well for you. Which implies then that the issue has less to do with tweaking Keeley's plot and more the desire for a totally different character. Because this is a woman who prioritizes sex and her romantic interests. She is introduced as being (sexually) intimidated by Rebecca, talking about how hot she is, how she’s totally thought about the two of them together, and praising her topless photos. Keeley consistently dresses in outfits that ping-pong between traditionally sexy and coy, schoolgirl looks. She’s dating Jamie at the show’s start, talks about how she wants more than to just keep dating hot footballers younger than her, and then finds that "more" by a) becoming Rebecca’s pseudo-protege and b) dating the older, mature Roy whose football career is coming to a close. But the point is that Keeley has always been sexual, has always been interested in romance, and has (nearly) always been after Roy in particular. Season One is peppered with that attraction, from her impressed “Holy shit” when he headbutts Colin, to making fun of him while he stands outside in the parking lot without his shirt.

Continuing this trend of Keeley being interested in sex/romance in Season Three is only a problem if we think it’s inherently bad for that to be a primary focus in her life... and I don’t think it is. Because otherwise the only issue would be if Ted Lasso wasn't capable of writing women except as arm candy for men... and the show quite obviously is. Keeley’s sexuality becomes a unique characteristic of her personality precisely because the other women are written as having their own, differing priorities and interests: Rebecca is the high-powered woman whose divorce is a symbol of freedom, Nora is still young and has other things on her mind, Sally likes casual sex but isn’t looking for a relationship (at least not with Ted), Sharon is a no-nonsense professional who has a split-second scene with a new boyfriend, Mae has no romantic prospects at all, etc. Personally, I find it to be a reductive reading to take a woman who has been shown as a romance-focused, sex-positive individual from day one, who has ALSO achieved so much outside of those interests, and then claim that because romance remains a priority in her life she’s not strong/independent. Really, how much does a woman have to achieve before she’s “allowed” to be written as putting relationships first? This is the Feminism 101 reminder that if you give women the means to be anything they want... a lot of them will want to be wives, mothers, hookers, secretaries, etc.

More to the point, Keeley does achieve a lot this season. You say that you wish Keeley had become a badass boss and entrepreneur... but she is. She was those things last season too. She runs a company and had a plot wherein she learned how to be a better boss after hiring her friend turned out to be a mistake (an arc that I think parallels Ted figuring out how to bench Roy). She's literally a boss and literally a badass, so what else does she need to do on screen to convey that? You say that Roy “pressured” her to get back with him, but he doesn’t. He intends to leave a letter while she’s away and Keeley surprises him. Keeley asks him to read it aloud. Keeley calls him back when Roy starts walking away. That’s all a moment of agency on her part and I don’t think we should deny her that just because we’re used to women being pressured into relationships in other stories/real life. That doesn’t mean that’s what’s happening here. Yes, Roy really stepped in it when he asked Keeley who the video was for, but that’s the entire point of the scene. He fucks up, immediately realizes he fucked up, and Keeley walks away knowing that she doesn’t owe him an answer. That’s a scene written for Keeley, not for Roy, and it’s not evidence that he’s inherently bad for her. It’s only evidence that people make mistakes and should be forgiven when they try to make amends -- Ted Lasso’s bread and butter.

You say you wished Keeley had brought the Lasso Way to her firm, but she does. Granted, it’s by no means as extensive as Ted’s achievement, but why would we expect it to be when Keeley isn’t the show’s main character? (Nor is she Ted.) What else is her relationship with Barbara though if not a miniature version of what Ted has done with the team? Here’s a standoffish, isolated individual who doesn’t feel like a part of the group. Now let’s humanize her with snow globes. Now let’s have her warming to Keeley over a series of small but significant interactions. Now let’s have the emotional conclusion where Keeley demonstrates that she’s paying attention to her interests (collecting), is willing to accommodate her quirks (I need to pay you), and the end result is Barbara returning because where else would she want to work after all that kindness? This is shown on an even smaller scale with the awkward guy in the office who explicitly tells Keeley that she’s the nicest boss he’s ever had. Again, there aren’t episodes worth of this development, but I think that speaks more to these being side-characters in a B-Plot than it does Keeley’s supposed failure.

Yes, she receives help from Rebecca at the end... but she was receiving help from Jack before. Keeley is not (yet) in a position to stand completely on her own with the firm and even if she was, why would she want to? That’s not Ted Lasso’s approach. The victory here is in having her best friend supporting her when, as Rebecca points out, that help amounts to chump-change for her (seriously, she was casually buying a horse last episode. She can afford this), rather than being beholden to a stranger/abusive-ex. And you say that Keeley’s only true moment of brilliance is when she stands her ground regarding the video... which is a plot-line that revolves around her sexuality. That just emphasizes that, as said, sex and romance has been a key part of Keeley’s story since the start and just because some shows navigate that in a demeaning, insulting way doesn’t mean that’s inherently the case. As demonstrated, having the woman make a sex vid that gets leaked can lead to a fantastic, empowering plot.

Idk I obviously have a lot of thoughts about this, but primarily I’m uncomfortable with this generalized takeaway that Story About Women Having Relationships = Them Being Weak/It's Bad Writing. Especially when Keeley’s romance this season was queer. That representation, to my mind, outweighs any potential harm of getting another romance-focused plotline for a woman. But I don’t see it as inherently harmful? This is all a core part of Keeley’s character, so if fans dislike it... they just dislike Keeley. There's nothing wrong with that, but this is the woman who loves masturbating to a video of her boyfriend crying and was dead-set on a super sexy Christmas until Phoebe needed her help. Sex and romance are key parts of who Keeley is, without those things solely defining her. Plus, notably, the rest of the cast has been focused on romance too. Ted is out there hiring private investigators over Michelle’s potential engagement. Rebecca has an (emotionally) hot night with the boat dude and is still coming to terms with everything surrounding Rupert. Sam is still clearly pining for her at least a little. Beard remains immersed in his own abusive relationship. Colin wants nothing more than to be able to kiss his fellow after a game. Even Trent, if read subtextually, has upended his entire LIFE out of a love of Ted.

And of course Roy, when not doing generic football things, has spent the whole season likewise thinking about Keeley: here’s the hilarious moment when everyone reacts to their breakup (a scene that heavily sells their Happily Ever After for the viewer. If the entire cast is reacting with this much horror and shock, you’re supposed to want them together). Here he is talking to Jamie about her dating someone else. Here he is putting his foot in it because of jealousy. Here’s the love letter. Roy’s characterization this season has revolved around Keeley just as much as Keeley’s has revolved around him and Jack. So even if Keeley didn’t have a unique history and characterization surrounding her romances, it doesn’t feel fair to say she’s somehow being done a disservice when the whole cast is grappling with various, romance-focused conflicts. Ted Lasso is a story about love in all its forms and I for one am pretty damn happy with how they’ve written Keeley's brand of love. The show said that you can be a boss ass bitch AND sexually active AND prioritizing finding the love of your life; you don’t have to choose. So I’m a little protective when fans frame it like Keeley does, in fact, have to choose. If she’s in romances than she’s no longer independent and strong and powerful... which simply isn’t true.

That narrow perspective is, I think, potentially more of a problem than fans who ship her with Roy when, clearly, the show wants you to ship her with Roy. That’s their B-Plot since day one. That’s what Ted faints over and Beards screams out a disbelieving “What?!” The characters ship it too. Are there structural problems in media where women are frequently denied agency and are reduced solely to a man’s love interest? Yeah, but we need to read the room a bit too. I think acting like fans are bad for prioritizing their relationship in a show that has consistently prioritized their relationship is a bit like walking into that Rom-Com and going, “Ugh, can you believe the woman is falling for another man? That’s all women do in stories anymore! She’s just pining after and flirting with and eventually marrying this guy, it's so sad." Like... it's a romance. Sure, we can unpack how this characterization feeds into other stories and even the prevalence of the genre itself, but that doesn't erase the fact that this is a romance and having a character fall in love is the entire point. Keeley is likewise a romance-focused character with a romantic subplot who also does a lot of other, cool, non-romance things throughout the show. That’s been Ted Lasso’s genre/vibe since the start, so wanting something different is an individual preference, not a failure of the story. No one has to like Keeley or what they're doing with her, obviously, but in this case the show has not promised something it didn't deliver on.

[zyrafowe-sny]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @fairytales-and-folklore! No pressure tags: @violet-prism-creatively @candyskiez @branmuffins22 @gakriele-lvs-blog @angelcloves @midnights-dragon @abstract-moth @thegrimshapeofyoursmile @sercezgazety @drev-the-procrastinator @watery-melon-baller @sir-ballister-boldheart @kestrel-wylde @madlad06 @unniebeans @mr-jaybird @halcyonhue and anyone else who sees this

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

29, but 12 of them are drabbles/drabble sequences based on Whumptober/Angstober prompts

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

41,643

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mainly The Owl House and Nimona, but I've also posted I Was a Teenage Exo-Colonist and have WIPs/plot bunnies for other fandoms

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Dear Bat Queen is still beating out Blood Brother, but I wouldn't be surprised if their positions flip. like a bolt out of the blue is a far third, then World's Best Turkey Carver, then arm-upgrading is a love language.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try hard to respond to every comment since I enjoy the community aspect of fanfic. However, there are a few comments that I haven't replied to yet, mostly because I wanted to give a thoughtful response but wasn't in the right headspace for it.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

My Whumptober/Angstober drabbles are pretty angst heavy, as are many of my other drabbles/ficlets.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

arm-upgrading is a love language is almost entirely domestic fluff. World's Best Turkey Carver has more twists before a happy resolution.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not currently. I haven't entirely ruled it out, but I've mostly written genfic.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nope. I've gotten inspiration from other media, but nothing that counts as a crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Hrm. Elizabeth Bennett and Fitzwilliam Darcy are old friends, though Anne Elliott and Frederick Wentworth give them a run for their money. Alanna the Lioness and George Cooper were also a formative couple in my early teens.

(My TOH fics are mostly-gen even if they nod at ships, my IWATEC fic does strongly imply Sol/Dys, and I am writing Goldenheart in some Nimona WIPs.)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I still have hope for my favorite WIPs!

I need to pick up my TOH grief Christmas fic again if it's ever going to be written.

My Palistrom & Promises series has been on an extremely long hiatus because I am (still) having trouble deciding how much of FTF and WAD I want to keep and how much I will ignore (this may also involve rejiggering the WIP that's furthest along).

I am not sure I can fully execute my phantom limb pain WIP to match my vision, but I think I can salvage at least a shorter fic from it and I am regularly plugging away at it with the help of WIP Wednesday asks.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I can occasionally write punchy 100 word drabbles. I like to think I also do a decent job at character studies. Dialogue is fun to write, but I am less sure that I am good at it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

description, action, real plot, anything longform

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've done a tiny bit of it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Umm... probably Star Wars? It was mostly snippets of dialogue handwritten in journals.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Oooph. I'm going to show Intervention some extra love - I didn't realize how much of my soul I poured into that one until after I started reading comments.