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irenespring · 8 months

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House MD- Hunger Games District Two Victor AU: Victor!House and his Mentor

Actual fic! I stir from the depths of writer's block.

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Author Notes:

I'm back for sort of some writing! I found @lorata's world and character building for District Two so comprehensive that sometimes when I get attached to a messed up character, I start applying them to their District Two world. I've written posts about who House MD characters' mentor would be, and I was inspired to actually write some scenes.

This one isn't dialogue heavy (shocking for me) but I did think it was necessary to set up the fusion of the House characters and Hunger Games world. It's primarily hurt/comfort.

The timeline of the character victories is very unrealistic (the gamemakers would never let District Two win this much) but oh well, this is a weird AU/crossover fic. The Hunger Games divergence here is what if Cashmere couldn't face what her life would be after her victory? So the 62nd and 63rd Games would go to Two. Also Enobaria's victory in the 62nd with Nero as a mentor is replaced by Lisa (Cuddy) with Nero as a mentor. Later, a "what if one of the District Two tributes listened to their mentors and killed Finnick in the bloodbath of the 65th" for Wilson's victory. Sorry to Finnick and Enobaria, but this is still technically a House AU.

Also Hunger Games tech is weird. The kind of prosthetic I describe I think fits with Capitol technology.

Lorata's District Two holds that volunteers ditch their last names so as unnatural as it is, House is Gregory, Cuddy will be Lisa, and Wilson will be James. I know, I know.

Many thanks to Lorata for their permission to use their characters. And for their work in general. It's absolutely stellar.

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Trigger warnings: references to child abuse, depictions of violence, ableism, dystopian government horribleness

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The story:

The first connection he makes when arriving at the Victor’s Village is with his mentor, Adessa. Good, obedient Victors bond with their mentors in the Capitol, seeing as the mentor is always there. And saved their life, or something. But Gregory is and has always been dedicated to ignoring tradition and making his own rules. Which is why it is super fucking annoying that he found someone whose rules he listens to. At least he was able to maintain his rage for a couple weeks. That’s almost something.

If he were the type of person to say sappy shit like she’s the parent he never had, or that he would be way more tolerant of authority if they were all like her, well, he would say it. But he’s not, so he doesn’t, end of story. Well, not out loud at least.

But he did hate her at first. On account of waking up in the Capitol hospital missing his leg.

He remembers the final fight, Cashmere sticking her poisoned knife into his thigh as he barely managed to dodge, knowing it should have struck something vital. He also remembers when he ran her through with one of his short swords, and she leaned in close with blood staining her teeth, looked at his leg, and whispered that at least he’d have something to remember her by.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that she had planned for him to win, even though he knows she hated him. That maybe the thought of him being the one to kill her was outweighed by the fear of what victory would mean for a girl from District One. Hurting him was the only way she could make it clear that he hadn’t beaten her. They had fought in training after it became clear she didn’t find him funny. During the almost mandatory pack banter, they played up the kind of sexual tension that only works when built on actual loathing tension. They tried to kill each other in the career pack split. She had been fighting for keeps then, he is certain. But he doesn’t know about the finale. One of the first things he let Adessa help him with was the feeling that she, his enemy, had gifted him his life and victory, only hurting his leg as a token of her (lack of) esteem.

Hell of a token, though. After the adrenaline of the fight he felt the pain, the agonizing pain, worse than anything he had felt in his eighteen years of enduring torture. But he made it to the hovercraft walking on both his legs.

He had his leg. He woke up without it.

He hated his mentor for the entire week it took to get back to the district. He endured the doctors talking about the newest prosthetics. He only barely listened to Adessa’s instructions on the proper humility to show to President Snow in order to avoid being summarily executed. He hated it. He hated looking the President in the eye and talking about how happy he was that he would be an ambulatory cripple, and how thankful he was for the Capitol’s mercy. He hated Adessa viciously, blamed her for taking away his choice even now that he had won and should have some fucking control over his life, but he listened because what she said made sense and he wasn’t suicidal.

After they finally got to the Village, it was another week until she was sure he was physically healthy enough for a hike. She took him deep into the forest under the guise of helping the prosthetic map his old neural pathways. When they were far enough she was certain no one or nothing would overhear, she gifted him with the truth.

No coddling, no hiding, no softening the words for the fragile, crippled baby Victor.

She told him what she overheard the doctors talking about. How the muscle in his thigh had died. They could save his leg, but they would have to remove the muscle almost entirely. He wouldn’t be able to walk without a cane, and he would almost certainly be in excruciating pain for the rest of his life. And then one of them had commented on how living with this “challenge” would be such a show of District Two bravery at its finest. The other had waved the comment off, but did say that it would show District Two that it wasn’t invulnerable. It wasn’t immune from the pain of the Games. Wouldn’t want them to get cocky, now that they’ve won twice in a row.

They didn’t know Adessa had overheard. Five minutes later they “briefed her” on the options. She asked them whether removing the leg entirely would lessen the risk of chronic pain. They admitted that it would, almost entirely, but insisted they could save it. She ordered them, as Gregory’s medical proxy, to remove his leg. They talked up their surgery, she insisted on amputation. They invoked the President’s support of the brilliance of the surgical technique, Adessa had held firm, affecting District Two's distrust of new technology.

She then looked Gregory in the eye and explained to him that yes, he would have to do insufferable press about living as an amputee. But it was nothing compared to the nightmares they’d force him through with a visible limp or mobility aid. The realistic-looking prosthetic, and its robotic technology helping him walk, would lessen the image image the Capitol press wanted. If Adessa had chosen the surgery, they would want to see Gregory's scar in every interview. They would only ever describe him in terms of his cane and gait. They would expect him to be soft and welcoming and unobtrusive— because surely an obviously disabled Victory couldn’t be frightening.

And even that was nothing compared to the inescapable pain they would make him endure with a smile and a humble word.

Nothing compared to how much danger he would be in if the President decided District Two was getting uppity, and forced Gregory onto morphling to cope with his pain, with the purpose of getting him addicted— thus showing the district one of their symbols was “weak.” How even then he would still be expected to praise his torturers.

She held eye contact and told him that he had been unconscious, and she had used her decades of experience navigating the Capitol to make a judgment call.

She hadn’t been able to stop her first Victor from falling into the claws of the Capitol, and she wouldn’t let it happen again.

She wanted him to recover and finally live without the constant threat of physical pain. He had to stop himself from widening his eyes when she told him that he deserved a life with as little pain as possible.

So, she made them cut off his leg, she concluded. It seemed to her the only rational thing to do.

And then she did something the Centre had told him no mentor would do. Because mentors made choices for their Victors and took it as their due. She told him if he still thought she had made the wrong decision, she would apologize. She would make it up to him. He should have had control over his body, she had said with a viciousness he knew couldn’t be just about him.

He had stared back at her, shocked, feeling as though the world had been shaken from its axis.

It somehow hadn’t occurred to him that she genuinely cared if he suffered. That she wasn’t just blindly exercising her power, as every authority in his life had done before her. She didn’t want him to hurt. She respected him. She talked to him as someone worthy of the facts. He was a person to her, not just a symbol of her prestige or the district’s strength. He was a person, and she wanted to help him.

He scanned her face, looking for the slightest hint of falsehood, he didn’t find it. Her stare was firm and unwavering. It wasn’t warm, but it was honest.

He wanted to believe her, he wanted to trust her so badly it shocked him. Something in his chest hurt, because he couldn’t shut out the hope that this time it would be different. He should know better, but that knowledge was drowned by the desperate chorus in his mind that maybe, maybe, someone cared.

It allowed him, for one moment, to force himself to take her at her word. To consider the merits of the argument she presented.

In a moment that will definitely have sweeping strings behind in the soapy biopic he’ll make about himself, he realized she had made the right call.

She made the right call. For him. Even though the Capitol didn’t want her to. She put his needs ahead of the Capitol— he’ll maybe leave that part out of the script.

When he makes the movie, he’ll definitely also leave out how his next thought, that repeated in his mind over and over, was that maybe he’d be safe now.

Safe.

He had never, ever, in his life, been safe.

And for some stupid fucking reason this robbed him of his ability to communicate beyond a nod, and produced a shit-ton of tears. He blamed the psych meds then and he blames them now, but still, a shit-ton of tears. So. Many. Fucking. Tears.

But before he could start properly hating himself for showing he wasn’t worthy of her respect with such a weak display, she moved into his line of sight. She carefully placed her hand on his shoulder, giving him time to register it as no threat.

She didn’t crowd him into a suffocating hug. She didn’t force him to speak. She didn’t patronize him with stupid “comforting” nonsense.

She let him cry —loudly and messily, like a small child that had never been forced into an ice-bath and thus didn’t know to shut the fuck up before someone heard— and she let him feel her steady, calm presence behind him. If he moved one of his hands to grasp her hand, just for a second, neither of them needed to talk about it.

When he calmed down, he let his eyes reach hers again, blue meeting brown. And they stayed like that, not speaking but understanding each other, for a long moment. Finally she nodded, and he nodded back, and they exchanged small, barely-there smiles.

“We should continue our walk,” she told him. “The prosthetic does work better the more impulses it receives from the brain. Additionally, it is unseasonably cool today, and therefore we will be less likely to dehydrate on a longer journey, compared to tomorrow’s forecast.”

That made sense. Something making sense grounded him. It let him start thinking clearly. Maybe he’d feel better if his new leg worked more like his old.

He still didn’t want to look at it, but the prosthetic no longer made him want to rip it off his body and beat everyone in the vicinity, especially Adessa, to death.

“That’s a good idea.”

They returned to the village’s main hiking path and continued towards the lake. Gregory hated the walk prior to their conversation. The not-quite-connected prosthetic made him slightly unsteady, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that if/when a tribute burst out of the bushes, he wouldn’t be able to fight. He had felt helpless, like his mere presence would bring someone violent and angry to hurt him in his weakened state. When he had looked at Adessa, he wondered if she was judging him, or if she was enjoying having her power over him cemented in such a physical way. She could do whatever she wanted to him and he couldn’t even run.

After The Talk (as he would forever call it, earning an amused smirk from Adessa) it was different.

He still felt helpless, for fleeting moments. But less so. When he felt the tell-tale squeezing in his chest, he subtly looked over at his mentor, walking a comfortable distance away, but still next to him. This time looking at her was strangely comforting.

It took him a while to place the not-unpleasant feeling that had settled across his mind: he felt less alone.

He felt like maybe he really did have someone that would protect him.

He’s the messed up kind of person that needed to win the damn Hunger Games to get anything good in his life. But at least it worked.

He and his mentor still walk to the lake often, and she keeps him safe.

#house md #the hunger games #lorataverse #we must be killers: tales from district two #district two #gregory house #fanfiction #one shot #hurt/comfort #mentor feelings #adessa #of course the first house fic I write is this highly specific AU #because my productivity can never be on anything a broad audience would want to read #it would break the space time continuum #tw child abuse reference #tw societal ableism #tw violence

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ainsellshadewalker · 9 days

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Minor update to the X-Men Evolution Wings of Fire-fied AU: I am scrapping (for now) making it the Dark AU version. I have ideas, but I really want to fledge out with a different story first, then maybe work my way back around to a WoF version of the Dark AU.

So, um, is it okay if I info dump a few ideas + minor story plots + scenes I really really want in my fic/au at some point? I shall assume yes, but don't worry, you don't need to understand the book plots at all! You can look up a picture of the dragon tribes, but seeing as the mutants are hybrids, well, they'll be a bit different. Let's dive in-

Plot and AU Ideas:

#1 • There is the One of Us AU, or regular gradual platonic yandere X-Men Evolution au, centered around the background tension and dread, but with no extra add-ons, just a pretty standard au or plot, I guess, with Reader (Bee) being a new mutant, but who appears as a HiveWing and seems to initially have no powers at all...

#2 • There is the Propehcy AU, where the teen are part of some vision and prophecy that can either save the world or end it, but it woukd be hard to fit everyone in, but I do like small prophecies...

#3 • A Secret Animus AU, where Reader (Bee) has not an animus-like ability, but full animus magic, the most rare mutation of all... in this Reader is more nervous, fidgety, and avoidant, but it is a bit more stressful and tense than the other options...

#4 • A Neglect au, where Reader (Bee), due to appearing seemingly normal and average, is shunned by the mutants, or at best forgotten about, and Reader eventually ends up hurt or captured, and possibly almost dies... but is saved at the last minute, and now the others have to try and take care of them and make up for lost time, while Reader wants to act like nothing happened and go back to the regular status quo...

Story Plots:

• possibly stopping or freeing Dragon! Apocalypse or using his animus scroll (magic scroll of limitless potential spells)

• Reader finding out they're related to someone

• Reader possibly having a darker past than everyone thinks (such as Reader used to work for a villain/evil dragon; or Reader was rejected by their family for being a mutant, despite not appearing like one; Reader almost dying when they were really young; or maybe all three, who knows)

• Reader trying to find perfect gifts or make perfect gifts for everyone, and the teens and adults do the same thing (a seasonal story, possibly as an extra or it's own stand-alone oneshot) (this one woukd be very sweet, with a bit of silliness)

• Prinicpal/Headmaster Kelly (he's going to be a SeaWing named Kelp), slowly realizing that he's wrong to hate mutants, and that groups like the Weapon X Program (called Wing X Program) and the MRD aren't good for everyone, and kinda has a talk and understanding with Xavier (because I know he's a squishy jerk, but I want to use 97's character growth on this version of him, so at least one normal dragons doesn't stay a jerk)

• Dragonets! Jean and Scott gradually getting together, and it's sappy and sweet and has a touch of hurt/comfort (they deserve better, let these two be happy)

Small Scenes (I just want these to be canon!):

• Reader hunting like a heron, then teaching Todd or Lance how to do it, too (they use their wings to create shadows, then stab the fish when they swim below it)

• The teens (dragonets) trying to cook, but most of then have never used fire, let alone a pan or pot or seasoning

• Reader finding one of the teens sleeping with them because of a nightmare, so they just let them stay, putting a blanket over them, then going back to sleep

• A beach day (the kids and adults just play in the sand and lazily swim around and catch some crabs and seagulls and laugh together) (they need to be found family)

• Reader crying, and someone comforting them

Well. This is all i have so far. I need more sleep. I hope you are doing well, ainsell! Please get some rest, drink some water, and have a snack.

Those are all wonderful ideas! Something you can do to tie in multiple points, Apocalypse sending visions to Bee to release him. They're not demanding though and he seems to actually care and acts very fatherly and protective over them. Something bee doesn't have from the others because they're just not as special as their pack. Except, the reason for apocalypse to be so doting is the fact that Bee is his child who's mutation is reincarnation. He doesn't know why they don't remember as much as when they used to reincarnate he sees that there are some memories but blames the xmen and brotherhood for causing so much distress in Bee that they've forgotten they were ever loved. And maybe when Bee finally gives in they've grown cold and uncaring to the world, so instead of immediately causing the end of humankind, his main goal because he knows no other way to save mutantkind, Apocalypse bonds with Bee and teaches them that there is still something to love in the world. Seeing that the person who's supposed to know only destruction and violence according to myth treat his young so carefully truly wanting them to heal and be as they are causes the xmen and brotherhood to rethink their behavior. Which leads to them somehow separating Bee from Apocalypse to talk but Bee doesn't want to talk and tries to leave. Cue Stryker seeing an opportunity taking Bee and setting up for an end where you decide who gets custody!

I rambled a bit sorry but you have so many good ideas to bounce off that something always grows

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chaed-ffnet · 8 months

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Fanfic asks!

9, 12, 13, 22, 28 and 43!

9. What is the longest fic you’ve read?

Off the top of my head, no idea. The longest piece I have bookmarked is a story called Follow Me Through by KTag12542 . Fantastic, plot-heavy sci-fi with well-developed characters that I highly recommend to anyone seeking a serious read.

12. What turns you away the most from a fic?

Poor grammar, spelling and formatting. A typo or two can happen to anyone, but if the author consistently struggles with the basics, it's highly unlikely that the story will make up for these deficiencies. For me, this is an automatic signal to hit the back button.

13. Has a fic ever made you cry?

Not yet, but Attrition by hellseries got me close. I don't usually read genres that are apt to be tearjerkers, so that might slant my chances. I did cry at the end of 'The Green Mile' by Stephen King though, so I know I've got it in me, lol.

22. Biggest turn-ons in fic?

I know this is mostly related to porn, but good characterization. Not every sex scene needs to end in both partners coming simultaneously crying out each others' names like an immature teenager's wet dream. Make it messy, awkward, and full of surprising little moments that can be just as hot. Give me bad sex, sex as a front for way deeper insecurities, sex that shows the ugliness of love, the desperation of wanting to find beauty in the muck, and maybe sometimes even failing to achieve it. A fic that did this just right is Strangelands by Claudia_flies. Short, explicit Clintasha, but with more depth than all of the 50 Shades books put together.

28. How do you feel about masturbation in fic?

Sure, keep it coming. Bonus points if the scene contributes to the plot or develops the character in some way instead of just being gratuitous. I might be biased towards angst, but sex scenes (whether alone or with a partner) are usually the most compelling moments for character development, whether positive or negative. However, I feel like there needs to be appropriate build up beforehand to truly invest the reader emotionally when it comes down to it . The one that stands out to me most is a scene spacelaska wrote for Graveyard For Lunatics.

43. Do you like fluff on its own or in conjunction with other elements (angst, sex, etc.)

I tend to avoid excessively sappy content because it often leads to out-of-character moments, but I do appreciate it if it's a part of a larger scene, such as Hurt/Comfort or post-coitus. Ultimately, it needs to flow with the overall storyline instead of being forced into place like a puzzle piece that doesn't belong. A Kink in the Armor by outtabreath (Pepperony) does a fabulous job at this, especially the later chapters.

So there you have it, including an unplanned MCU rec list. Enjoy, and thanks for asking!

#fic asks #ask away #reading recommendations #mcu fanfiction

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aclosetfan · 2 years

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i know i haven't posted any actual writing lately, and thank you all so much for being patient with me. I started a new job, and it's knocked me off my feet these last couple of months, which I fully expect it will continue to do, but I am still writing!! Just very slowly.

but as a lil thank you and as a way to get some feedback, maybe you'd be okay reading my prologue and first chapter rewrite of Another Buttercrush? It was too long and cumbersome to post on tumblr so I created a new fic on ao3 (link below). It's not a website I really like, but at this point, I don't think anyone's still on ffn and srsly, it's so long.

I debated doing this for a while now because I don't know when I'll be able to post another update and don't want to get anyone's hopes up, but these files have just been sitting there, weighing on my shoulders, and I really want feedback. If it's bad, I want to know, so I can try again.

and if i never get to this fic again lol at least I can give you this

I started Another Buttercrush in 2018! Five whole years ago, and I've made little to no progress on it because these last five years have been so life-altering. I graduated undergrad, I was very ill, I underwent so really intense surgeries, I started law school, I graduated law school, I passed the bar, my dog died :(, I got an adult job, and my anxiety has been one long continuous battle. I'm probably too old now to (poorly) be writing silly stories for a cartoon even older than myself, lol, but it and the friends I've made have been such a consistent comfort in my life that the idea of leaving hurts. <3 Thank you to all the friendly people and your continued patience. I would have never started writing without you.

Anyway, enough of being sappy; here's the chapter. Forewarning, when I was rewriting it, I cringed so hard at a majority of it (it's so very much a high school fanfic), but when I went to delete some of the scenes, my heart broke. Deleting the cringe is like deleting another buttercrush entirely, so I tried keeping it as close as possible to the original. It's still my shitty little story <3 I love her. I tried fixing characterization issues, a few plot holes, and added a few extra scenes :)

Hopefully, you all see this before you see the fic on ao3. I'm not posting it for the people active on that site. This is really just for my tumblr friends :) haha you're the ppl i talk to so you're the ones who get to see this sappy intro note.

#another buttercrush #rewrite #sappy author note under the cut #i know i said id update the fake dating au but i was feeling sentimental~#jeez i was actually really nervous posting it #there are like wht 5 of us in this fandom??#its just that if i post on ao3 i break out of containment

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ao3feed-destiel-02 · 1 year

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praying to a ghost that refuses to stay buried

praying to a ghost that refuses to stay buried https://ift.tt/AJ8gzwG by ijusthavealotoffeelings “It was always going to be you, and Cas knew it. He was dead from the moment he met you.” Dean swallowed thickly but he refused to break Gabe’s gaze. “You never cared about him,” Gabe spat. “You only cared about what he could do for you! And you know what? He knew it but he did it anyway! He deserved so much better than you.” “No,” Dean whispered. “No, you don’t get to do that.” Dean shoved against Gabe hard and he stumbled back a step with the force of it. Dean could feel tears stinging his eyes but he refused to cry like this. “You don’t get to tell me how I felt about Cas! Don’t you for one second believe I loved him any less than you did! Hell, I loved him more! More than anyone! I would’ve done anything for him!” Dean is grieving and Gabriel just wants his brother back. With Jack gone, Sam's just trying to hold onto the little family he has left. Even when Cas returns from the dead, with Jack by his side, things don't just magically become okay again. It seems they may all have some truths they need to confess to. Words: 13718, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Gabriel (Supernatural), Jack Kline Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Gabriel & Dean Winchester, Jack Kline & Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Post-Season/Series 15, Post-Canon Fix-It, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Castiel is Saved from the Empty (Supernatural), Love Confessions, Sam Winchester Knows, that tag is still objectively hilarious to me like, we as a fandom collectively agree that sam definitely know dean and cas are in love, gabriel knows too, fight me on this, Dean Winchester Lives, lets just pretend the finale didnt happen okay, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, I am physically incapable of writing sad endings, so fear not dear readers, idk what else to put, First Kiss, warning for alcoholism in the beginning, look deans not good at coping, Grief/Mourning, may as well tag it its kind of a central theme in this fic, But dont worry!, they get their happy ending!, as they should - Freeform, also, Jack Knows, but in a, he asssumes theyre already a couple, kind of way, headcanon: cas blows out all the lights the first time they kiss, married couple bickering, okay its actually a lot heavier than that, our boys need to work their shit out, dean and his tendency to say bad things in the heat of the moment, listen, I Love Dean, but he has no filter when hes angry, loving someone to the point of self destruction etc etc, Complicated Relationships, because, yeah - Freeform, what they have is def complicated, featuring deans inherent tendency to self sabotage, bc he definitely does that a lot, or am i projecting? maybe im projecting, either way you get the idea, ok these tags are becoming ridiculous, Im gonna stop now, rating is mostly for language and heavy themes, and one kinda smutty scene, dean drinks whiskey in this bc thats what i drink when im sad, whiskey hangovers SUCK, ig dean is just very me coded in this, Dean Winchester Uses Actual Words, as he should, yes there is a halsey quote in here that i stole, dont judge me, overly sappy declarations of love and devotion, living on being the ultimate act of loving someone, but maybe thats just more of me projecting, is anyone even going to read these tags?, okay this was only supposed to be like 3k words and it just got away from me via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/8ANmeK2 July 29, 2023 at 08:54PM

#IFTTT #AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester'#Destiel #ao3feed #ao3feed Destiel #Destiel fanfic #Dean Winchester/Castiel #Castiel/Dean Winchester #Dean x Castiel #Castiel x Dean

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rays-of-fire-and-ice · 2 years

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I, J & M for the Fanfic Ask Meme! :)

Fanfic Ask Meme

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

For writing, Hurt/Comfort I guess. I love writing it, to the point where my fics go from 500 words to 2000+ of just two people talking about their feelings and getting all sappy about it XD. I chop a lot out but even then the fics end up being longer than I planned!! For reading, it's the Enemies-to-Lovers and Grumpy one x Sunshine one tropes (just look at some of the ships I reblog content for).

J: Write or describe an alternative ending to [insert fic].

The first to come to mind was Our Days in the Junrinan. Originally, I was going to end it with Hitsugaya finding Hinamori after her meeting with the Women's Association and trying to act like the article didn't affect him as much as it actually did. Momo would be nervous as she didn't realise the majority of what she recounted would actually make it to the final edition. Eventually, Toshiro teases that she called him by his title more times in that one interview than she had to his face. Afterwards, he expresses his appreciation for the kind things she said, but also berates her for a few embarrassing things she recounted about their childhood together. Momo takes it in stride however, and congratulates him on his edition of the Seireitei Communication.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

I have a few, and they include:

Set during the 10-year timeskip. Toshiro is neck deep in trying to rebuild sections of Soul Society. He's starting to suffer burn out and continues to have the occasional nightmare about his time as a zombie. Momo sees the toll everything is taking on him and convinces him to come walk a mountain with her to help with a task. It's similar to It's Been a While, except this time it's Toshiro getting angsty about how the war went and how long it's taking for construction to finish. I already have a few scenes planned for this one, including a moment set almost immediately after Yhwach defeat where Toshiro walks among the ruins of the Soul Society and finds something that makes him realise just how many lives were lost in the conflict.

Yet another 'Momo reacts to the Completed Form' fic (seriously, I keep coming back to this scenario! I'm becoming a broken record! XD), in which she briefly gets involved in the fight against Gerard before retreating with Shinji.

A fic about Toshiro's captaincy. This one would likely end up being a long one, as I'd want to take a look from the beginning up until he's sent to the World of the Living, or maybe even until after the 10 year timeskip. I'd mainly explore his anxieties about the job, coping with the sudden disappearance of Isshin, him and Rangiku having to work together in a different way than before, how he gets everyone to see him as an authority figure, and how his relationship with Hinamori and his friends changes. A few scenes I already have in mind are: getting the haori and putting it on for the first time before going to his official appointment as captain of the Tenth Division; in a bid to appear more authoritative and less childish, asking Hinamori to not hug him or call him 'Shiro-chan' anymore, but realising too late that this hurt her feelings and he tries to come up with a compromise, and him seeing Isshin for the first time in decades while he's stationed in the World of the Living.

A fic about Shinji and Toshiro having to complete a task together. I don't have a specific idea for this one, but I really enjoyed writing their section of As Months Go By, As Seasons Change, so I 'd like to write more of their dynamic.

Thanks for sending this in! :D

#hitsuhina #fanfiction #asks #ask meme #canariie

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harveyhawkscripts · 1 year

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[A4NB] Letter From a Friend [Comfort for coming out gone bad] [Nonbinary listener]

AN: Listen. I know this isn’t the usual script, more of a monologue, but I had writer’s block. I might still have writer’s block. So have something short, sweet, and super sappy.

Synopsis: The speaker and listener are best friends and roommates. The listener returns from a visit with their parents and immediately locks themselves in their room. Knowing that the listener had planned to come out to their parents, the speaker writes them a letter and slips it under their door.

Usage:

- Okay for monetization

- Please credit me as Harvey Hawk :)

- Tweaks, improv, and pronoun changes are okay! Just please do not rewrite the script completely.

Google Doc

Key:

[SFX and Action]

(.) Short Pause

(...) Longer pause

(Voice instruction)

Word Count: 655

—

[Paper unfolds]

BEST FRIEND (VOICEOVER):

Hey buddy,

By the way you’ve hid yourself away, I’m going to assume that coming out to your parents didn’t go well. I’m so sorry. You don’t have to tell me what happened, but I want you to know that I’m always here for you.

Take some time to be alone, but don’t isolate yourself for too long.

(Gently) I know you have a tendency to do that, you silly goose. Remember there are people you can go to for love and support. I know that’s what you wanted from your parents, and it’s what you deserve, but you and I both know how unfair the world can be.

It's okay to hurt. Don’t try to pretend you don’t; I can tell. You always try to hide it. You act like you don’t care what your family thinks, but I know how much you care for them.

Don’t worry, it won’t hurt forever.

When I see you, you’ll probably shrug and say you don’t need anyone’s approval to be nonbinary. This is true, but I know how broken up you were when you came out to your sister. I can only imagine how this must feel.

You said yourself that despite your problems with them, your family was your support system for so long. I know you’re torn up that they don’t accept this part of you. Especially given what a large part of you it is.

Just to let you know, I accept every part of you. It’s important that you know that.

(Amused) Remember that year when you brought me to my first Pride Fest? Thanks for that. I was so nervous, but you let me follow you around like a lost puppy and showed me all the cool events. Remember how I tripped on the train of that drag queen’s dress? That was mortifying! She was so sweet about it, though. I know that memory always makes you laugh.

When you’re ready to come out of your room, would you like to have dinner? I’m making something other than casserole! We can pop on some Muppet films if you want. Those always make you feel better, don’t they?

We can even watch Muppets from Space, even though it’s my least favorite Muppet movie and it’s not even canon. I know you love Gonzo, our nonbinary icon, but I can’t understand your affinity for what is objectively the least impressive Muppet movie. But since I love you, we’ll watch it.

And yes, I’ll fast forward through the Noah’s Ark scene in the beginning. It kinda freaks me out, too.

Make sure you hydrate! Take your medicine as well, if you haven’t.

By the way, I’m proud of you. Not just for telling your parents, but for all the growth you’ve done over the years. You’ve really come into your own, you know. Even if you say you’re not where you want to be in life, I think you’re in a pretty good place now.

Things like a house and your dream job seem far away, and maybe they are! But right now you have a roof over your head, dinner in the kitchen, and a best friend who loves you very much. I think that’s a good start. And if anyone can go far, it’s you.

Something tells me you needed that reminder. Your confidence seems to take a hit each time you visit your family. Maybe we should talk about it sometime? If you want to.

One more thing. You know who you are better than anyone else, period. There are people who will try to make you doubt your identity, but they haven’t spent the years exploring the depths of you that you have. Not even your mother knows you better. Trust and believe in yourself; your gender is your own journey. And I’m with you every step of the way.

See you when you’re ready.

END

#asmr rp #script writing #script #writing #asmr scripts #a4nb

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lochrannn · 2 years

Note

For the fic writer meme: 1, 8, 12, 32, and 40 ('Throw your hands up at me', if you want a specific idea!).

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Sappy love-y dove-y shit is like the number one requirement. Then I'll sprinkle in some pining and usually a lot of physical contact. I live for that shit, ngl XD

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

This conversation from you ain't alone, so why are you lonely between Diego and Klaus:

“So you’re taking your fake wife on a fake honeymoon beach trip to take some romantic pictures and you have absolutely no ulterior motive, you say?” Klaus asks, sipping on a large mug filled with a very fragrant and spicy smelling tea in Ben’s living room.

Diego’s leaning against the windowsill, arms crossed defensively, while Ben is over by the dining table unpacking his camera equipment and trying to pare down the amount of stuff he’s going to send Diego out with and very pointedly trying to look like he’s not listening. “First off, Lila’s my actual wife, you were literally the witness, Klaus, and second of all, yeah, I have an ulterior motive, I want to help her convince immigration officials that we didn’t just get married so she could get a visa!”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, stop deflecting!” Klaus says in that mild tone of his that always puts Diego on edge.

“Why, what other ulterior motive could I have other than scamming the government?” Diego asks in irritation and then instantly regrets opening that door for Klaus. The slow grin that spreads across his brother’s face makes Diego regret a lot of choices in his life.

“I think you’re in love with your wife, you weirdo!” Klaus says, batting his eyelashes at him and Diego tries not to react, but then thinks that may be exactly the wrong choice, so a little too late he grimaces and says, “Don’t be silly!”

“Oh please, it was written all over your face at the wedding. And so much sexual tension between the two of you, maybe you should fuck and see whether that resolves it,” Klaus offers with a shrug.

“Yeah, no… that didn’t really work…” Diego breathes out and then instantly realizes the horrible mistake he made when both his brothers almost shout, “What?!” at the same time.

“Urgh, you slept with your wife, you pervert?” Klaus squeals in delight, almost falling over on the couch laughing at his own joke.

“She wasn’t my wife then…” Diego shoots back and he just doesn’t know how this keeps happening. Why is he arguing about this with Klaus? He really, really doesn’t want to talk about it, but Klaus just always manages to push his buttons.

“Oh, intriguing! Do tell!” his brother rights himself on the couch and looks at him with big curious eyes.

“Absolutely fucking not!” Diego says grumpily and crosses his arms again, trying to physically make himself shut the fuck up.

I just think it's the best I've done at banter that isn't between Lila and Diego. I don't know that I always get them right either, but I think there a lot of the conversation comes from progressing whatever I want to have happen, but this conversation was sort of just there to be funny, and I really enjoyed writing it.

12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

It's got to be The Majestic 12 (2x4). I mean there are many that are absolutely inspiriation in the Diego/Lila department, but Lila sprawled against a topless Diego at the beginning of the ep, them behaving like their already married after one night together, then the slightly tense supsicious conversation at the consulate that isn't so much defused as catapulted into a different kind of tension when they start dancing. OOOOFFFF. And then Lila explicitly facing the dilemma of obaying her mother or helping Diego and just to add to all the delicious intrigue, she goes with her mother's orders (for now). Diego's expression of betrayal and hurt. Also, Diego's hallway fight at the end is really good XD

32. How do you feel about smut?

Horny, you perv.

I'll answer 40 tomorrow because I just have no time right now, sorry XD But please, if anyone wants to send more questions, go right ahead.

And thanks for playing along!

#otp: just be gentle #otp: i'm the daddy here - yeah you are #lila pitts #diego hargreeves #dielila #dilila #diego x lila #diego/lila #tua #the umbrella academy #ask game

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kirascottage · 3 years

Note

hey! could you write a fluff fic of lip gallagher x reader? maybe something where he’s protective? love your writing! - nina <3

always choosing you

lip gallagher x f. reader

summary: lip saves you while at a party.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: soft and protective lip all in one, swearing, alcohol, mentions of trauma, non-consensual touching (just the waist), mentions of violence, kissing, mentions of sex (1x)

join my taglist here !

“Babe, this tastes disgusting.” You scowled while referring to the red solo cup in your hand. At your distasteful words, Lip’s head had whipped over to your twisted face, studying your wry grimace then looking at the poorly made drink most likely whipped up by a Sophomore that had no idea how to mix alcohol.

“Here, take mine.” Without a second thought, he quickly swapped the drink in your hand with his own, Vodka Cranberry. The drink he voluntarily handed you was a translucent shade of dull red and it fizzed at the top. Taking a sip, your brow arched in a consensus of the pleasant-tasting beverage.

To a family like the Gallagher’s, it was portrayed as a psychedelic for Lip Gallagher to be seen as a caring individual rather than a belligerent boy without any anger control. (especially to someone like Fiona) His emotional trauma merely enabling him to hide his concealed emotions from others, but like any other person, it took tremendous work that you were willing to put in.

“Hey, you wanna go soon?” His eyes naturally drifted around the party as he questioned you with a gentle hand sitting comfortably at your waist, his thumb moving slowly over the material of your shirt. “Sure, lower-class man parties are always a bummer.” You mutually agreed, glimpsing as to how his eyes travel across the room to a familiar redhead.

“I’m gonna go tell Ian, you good here?” His thumb pointed in a backwards direction as he walked the same way, you nodded in approval before he was off with his shoes tapping in sync to the music as he proceeded to the Kitchen while you stood in the living room against a wall.

It wasn’t usual for Lip to willingly leave you alone, especially in social situations like this one with intoxicated teenagers at your every corner. He once claimed a wannabe Tristan Dugray from Gilmore Girls would sweep you off your feet and carry you off to the sunset but you declared that would be spurious.

You picked at your nails for the first few minutes, growing bored as you waited, your fingers following the curvature of the cup along with the slight indentations and lines as your patience grew thin. Most likely Ian was stuck in a conversation with long-haired Milkovich, and he wouldn’t wanna leave just yet, his usual stall techniques including whining to his eldest brother.

Your evident impatience had swallowed you whole, eventually abandoning the remains of the drink at a battered table so your arms could cross in front of your chest and your foot tapped insanely quick against the floor. Now that tapping would've bothered anyone as the music vibrated through the drywall and the neighbours were nearing annoyance with the deliberation of filing a noise complaint.

As you were just about to set off to the kitchen, slender fingers gripped at your belt loops hauling you closer to the point your rear had struck the male stranger's chest.

“Hey! What the fu—“

“What’re you doing here all alone?” You attempted to harshly to move away at the poor tone of male seduction but the firm grip on your denim loops was restricting you from such.

“You see, I'm not alone so if you’d—“ You gestured impatiently to his hand with a curt glint in your tone whilst looking back at him; but, he cut you off with a brisk ‘S’alright, baby. I’ll take care of you.’ And no intention of letting you go.

You huffed with a squirm as his disengaged hand grasped at your waist where the emptiness of Lip’s hand had formerly been. “I have a fucking boyfriend—“ You inevitably began to yell over the music at the boy you could recognize as Clint Eastwood from your English class with a drunken smirk plastered onto his features.

This time it wasn’t his slurred voice cutting you off once again, it was a familiar rage-ridden Gallagher. “Get your hands off my fucking girlfriend.” Lip’s baritone became hoarser by the word as his hands hastily gripped at the boy's collared shirt whilst you stumbled by Ian who had briskly caught your arm hoisting you upright.

“Sorry! Dude, I didn’t know she—“

“Really? I clearly fucking heard her say she had a boyfriend,” His scowling brows drew together tightly and his lips pursed at the boy's face trembling in justified fear; as the scene grew larger with frequent yells occurring from Lip, most attendees of the party queued in on the scene.

“I guess idiots like you don’t know how to take a fucking hint.” Lip would’ve severely beaten his face in till Clint was due a trip to the ER but your magnifying grip at the back of his torso was enough to subdue his nerves and release the male off to the side and make his way to the car while gripping your hand the silent way there as the music grew fainter.

The car ride was silent, Lip’s hands gripped the wheel hard enough for distinctive marks to melt into the leather of the disk-shaped circle. He was well indeed sober, the only drink he had consumed was the one he had given to you and mostly full when it came into your possession.

When the car paused in the Gallagher driveway, wordlessly, Ian had left the car to give the both of you a moment, cautiously entering the chaotic household where most of his siblings had been asleep; Fiona being the only one awake where she had been watching a movie with V as Debbie laid on her lap. Yet, Lip hadn’t even moved his hands from the ignition; he had barely even blinked or twitched.

“Lip,” Your voice whispered, filling in the empty void of the vehicle. He silently looked over with his head slumped against the head seat, “What’s wrong?” Another whisper, your fingers rested comfortably on his knee.

“I just—“ He sighed, “—I don’t like the way he was touching you. Nobody should touch you like that.” He paused thoughtfully amid his heated sentence, clearly hesitant. Though, you remained silent as you were taciturnly aware that he was nowhere near finished.

“What if he wasn’t a creep and it was some guy that could offer you so much better than I could. I don’t want you to get hurt, but I also don’t want to hurt you.” His cerulean optics drifted over to his knee where you had been drawing circles over the denim, his anxious eyes remaining focused before you spoke up and his attention had diverted back to you.

“So don’t.” You offered a faint smile, “You’re not your parents, Lip. Take it one day at a time, if you don’t want to hurt me then you’re not going to.” You shook your head as you spoke.

“You could’ve knocked that guy into oblivion but you didn’t, and I know why you didn’t. I’m not gonna push you; Just take it day by day with me, okay?” He lethargically nodded in response, drinking in your words slowly as they enveloped his brain in a tight squeeze. Your monologue clinging to his mind as he would require those words later on.

Silently, you drifted your eyes back to the house, your eyes retaining on the Gallagher residence as he spoke. “Stay the night?”

You returned your head back to him and grinned in response, pecking his lips a few times before hopping out of the car as he followed. Trudging towards the wrought gate as he gripped at your hand, gently leading you through his house but pausing once to wave at Fiona which she reciprocated with a gleeful nod and a wave.

You had thought you entered his shared room rather quietly, changing into a shrunken pair of basketball shorts and a navy blue sweater both of which had belonged to your boyfriend. As you climbed the bunk, an adolescent boy had begun speaking with sleep lacing his words, “You better not be having sex, I'm trying to sleep.” Carl finished with a snore as he shuffled.

You both hastily muffled your laughs whilst cautiously climbing into the top bunk where his sheets laid messily due to him not making his bed the morning prior. You took very little time situating yourselves, the tip of your chin laying on his shoulder, and you were laid on your stomach. Meanwhile, his arm curled around your back and his stomach had faced the texturized ceiling.

You both laid there silently for a few minutes, maybe even a half-hour. Most likely Ian had passed out on the couch, and Carl’s snores had filled the room so it was a guarantee that it was safe to speak without any eavesdropping.

“I’ll always choose you.”

For a moment you thought he was asleep as well by how still he remained, till his face had carefully turned millimeters from yours. “I don’t care if it’s an Italian mafia man or some belligerent idiot from English class. I’ll always choose you, Philip Gallagher.” You muttered into his shoulder, a tinge of minor embarrassment creeping stealthily up your neck at the sappy confession.

“I’ll always choose you, too.” He whispered back, he wasn’t much for words but he could always muster up a considerable fraction of what you meant to him. Kissing the tip of your nose, he whispered again whilst placing his chin on your forehead. “Now go to sleep, or you’ll be bitchy in the morning.”

taglist: @miiamour @bugswrld @zzzfour @black-rose-29 @sprucewoodlover @bloodyrockwork @myalupinblack

#lip gallagher fic #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher #shameless fandom #shameless x reader #shameless headcanons #shameless fluff #shameless fic #shameless smut #shameless fanfiction #shameless #lip gallagher fluff

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molotovmetro · 3 years

Note

Hey hey simp ♥ I saw you're accept requests, so i think i would like to read some cute cuddle sessions with some of the genshin boys~ I thought about Zhongli, Tartaglia and maybe Diluc! Doesn't matter if the reader is sad and wants to cuddle, stressed and need it to calm down or something else (i hope you understand what i mean, i am bad at this and english isn't easy to write for me ._.)

Don't worry your English is more than fine!! Thank you for requesting, I hope you like it, Joy!! 💗💗

I think I'm gonna try adding small scenarios for this! Just trying something haha

Cw: someone being mean to reader in Childe's, fluff but maybe a bit of loneliness for Dilucs

Zhongli

Zhongli discovered early on in your relationship his liking of cuddling

Besides soft kisses, it's his favourite way to express affection. Although, only in private as he is not too big on PDA

He considers a day perfectly spend if he got to hold you for a while. He can be surprisingly sappy

Zhongli is still getting used to living as a regular human being, he is delighted you're there to help him, and experience all of it with him.

In the beginning of your relationship, he was somewhat inexperienced in about everything that comes with dating. Although, he quickly figured out cuddling is something he enjoys a lot. It has become, to him, the best way to unwind after a long day, as well as the absolute most amazing way to wake up in the morning.

Currently, you're in his arms on the sofa as he's telling you a story. You love listening to him talk. If you wouldn't know the irony behind it, you'd describe his voice as godly. Smooth, but heavy, like stone. It suits him.

You relish in his warmth as you listen to him attentively, idly playing with his soft hair while he gently rubs your back.

While seemingly not all that special, these are the kind if moments you both cherish the most. The moments where you're simply being with each other and enjoying each others company, indulging in the almost sickly sweet feelings you share.

Tartaglia

Good luck getting Tartaglia to stop cuddling you

He's a cuddle bug, his arms are around you every chance he gets

So when he sees you're sad, he's gonna go all out with the cuddles

Tartaglia enters the door and toes off his boots, releasing a sigh of relief at finally being home after an exhausting job. Usually you greet him the second he comes in, he thinks it's odd, but figures you're in the bathroom or bedroom.

Making his way down the hall, he starts to hear sniffles. He is immediately on high alert, worried out of his mind.

Why were you crying? Are you hurt?

He rushes into the bedroom to see your form under the blankets, but no immediate indication that you're hurt.

"Y/n?" He softly calls out as he approaches you.

He can see you startle and start wiping at your eyes. "H-Hey! You're-" sniffle "-back early!"

Tartaglia sits down on the edge of the bed and motions for you to scoot over a bit. "What's wrong, baby?"

Emotions swirl in his eyes as he listens to you explain what happened with a shaky voice. There was an unpleasant situation earlier today when you bumped into someone and they made a huge scene, publically embarrassing you. A ridiculous reason for someone to get mad at you, he thinks. He would like to have a word with them, but he knows you need him more right now.

His arms snake around your torso as he places comforting kisses between your shoulder blades. He'll gladly stay there like that all day, if that would make you feel better. Anything for you.

Diluc

With his busy schedule, Diluc isn't around very often to cuddle

He feels bad about it though, you mean so much to him and he doesn't mean to neglect you

After a particularly hectic couple of days he figures Mondstad will be okay for a few hours without him

Diluc knows he hasn't been around as much as he would like, and he knows you miss him as much as he misses you. After doing his rounds for the night, although he headed home earlier than usual, he silently creeps into the winery, and up to your shared bedroom. He slowly opens the door to avoid the usual creaks in case you would be asleep already, but much to his delight, you're still awake. The redhead smiles softly at you as you stare at him with a suprised expression, before breaking out into a grin

"You're home early?" You're trying to sound casual, just in case he simply forgot something and is just picking it up.

"Yes. I haven't been around much. I'd like to make it up to you." He joins you on the bed.

You immediately scoot up to him and rest on his chest. "Are you sure Mondstad can handle one night without its Darknight Hero?"

"Very funny. It was calm, just a few hilichurls." His hand finds your back and soothingly rubs circles into it.

After sleeping along for so many days, just cuddling with Diluc is enough to make you sleepy. He doesn't move when he notices you drifting off. He's still wearing his clothes, but he thinks that as long as you're right there, he'll be comfortable nevertheless.

#joytoria #not edited yet so please excuse any typos for the time being #my first idea for zhongli was morning cuddles but i thought this fit better #i might write that sometime though #zhongli x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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1kook · 4 years

Text

A COLLECTION [ updated: 8 . 23 . 21 ]

—NETFLIX & CHILL.

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings smut in the forms of grinding, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla unprotected sex, dirty talk misc use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc word count 10.2k posted june 12, 2020

—HULU & WOOHOO.

summary But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. warnings slight feelings of insecurity, smut in the forms of fingering, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, riding, slight praise kink misc if you’re not a Jersey shore fan honestly GET OUT, mentions of capitalism😡, more kind/understanding kook, basically a “what are we?” fic but silly, irresponsible emailing habits, its so dumb just read word count 6.3k posted july 4, 2020

—IMAX & CLIMAX.

summary The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings smut in the form of blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl (? kinda), daddy kink that morphs into ily kink misc jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count 9.8k posted august 5, 2020

—KISSANIME & FOREPLAY.

summary You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings mentions of hentai, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 word count 8.2k posted september 1, 2020

—DISNEY+ & BUST.

summary There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. warnings arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of humiliation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment (? idk lol), unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, the return of mean jk, desperate jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf misc angst, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count 13k posted september 9, 2020

—ESPN & BDSM.

summary You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills. warnings smut in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink misc kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count 12.7k posted september 14, 2020

—YOUTUBE & USE LUBE.

summary You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube. warnings smut in the forms of nipple play, handjobs, spit kink, face riding, unprotected, flavored warming lube, riding, praise kink, soft femdom, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, tit sucking, tit fucking, more jk has an impreg kink, oh and this is all subby kook misc domesticity baby!! fluff, soft scenes /.\, jk is sick:((, doyeon is A Doctor, yn sees an opportunity and she grabs it, surprise ending <3 word count 8.7k posted september 30, 2020

—VIKI & HICKEYS.

summary Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. warnings a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries, jk is a good boy n I want him to be happy misc there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide word count 16.3k posted january 14, 2021

—PEACOCK & SWEET TALK.

summary “I wanna watch Solange in Bring It On,” Jungkook smiles, and you have to wonder who exactly this blond man is and what he did with your teen-movie-hating boyfriend. warnings smut in the forms of kissing, cunnilingus (eating out + fingering), light praise, a lil body worship, jk fat cawk, brief nipple play, playful jk, unprotected sex, riding and missionary, the jk hand kink, I love you kink, jk wants nudes, jk’s cheerleader fantasies mentioned, spit kink, light choking, jk has like a scent kink (?), mention of collars and pet play misc app developer jk becomes even MORE app developer-y, oc is anti-google, there's plot, a 2 year anniversary, Solange knowles appreciation, BLOND JK!!!, gets sappy for a sec, seahorse marriage mention, doyeon x joon side pairing, jk is disgustingly dreamy and oc is threatened by that fact word count 10.7k posted march 23, 2021

— CRUNCHYROLL & RAIL.

summary Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. warnings smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… misc fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality word count 8.7k posted may 21, 2021

—FUNIMATION & PROCREATION.

summary Never mind your upcoming wedding, this was perhaps the greatest moment of your life— the day Jungkook sought out an anime on his own. warnings kissing, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, cum eating, mentions of anal, doggy style, unprotected sex with the intention of pregnancy, spitting, hand holding<3 misc the wedding night, Doyeon strikes again, jjk watches jjk, oh no not twins word count 9.1k posted july 31, 2021

—BOOMERANG AND BANG.

coming soon

—COOKIES & CREAM.

summary Jungkook will watch a thousand cheesy Christmas movies if it meant making you happy. (And maybe having his dick sucked.) warnings smut in the form of blowjobs, face fucking, cum facials, fingering, overstim, double orgasm, r*mantic sex, riding, unprotected, cream pies, jk does this weird thing where he licks her face yeah idk, jk loves seeing his gf cry, jk has an obsession with jizz misc jk pov !!, eggnog slander, jk hates xmas movies, oc dresses like a sexy mrs claus, Elf !!, jk is in loooove word count 7.1k posted december 23, 2020

— TUTUS & TIARAS.

summary your first pregnancy through the lens of your husband warnings smut in the forms of penetrative sex, sex while pregnant, unprotected sex, tit play, cunnilingus, mutual masturbation, sticking the tip in and jacking off/cockwarming?, creampies, nose kink (? like she grinds against his nose), infatuation with scent, frottage/grinding, lactation kink, titluvr jk [bass boosted] misc married ncouple <3, domesticity, jk pov, mood swings, pregnancy, GIRLDAD!JK, DILF!JK, pregnant!reader, jk’s kids are virgos its true word count 10k posted august 23, 2021

— one.

summary Maybe Jungkook wasn’t always as cool and composed as you initially believed. But that’s okay, because you love him all the same. word count 1.3k posted September 10, 2020

—two.

summary Even after all these years, all these doubts, and all this solitude that was really no one’s fault but his own, he still finds himself hoping that maybe you’ll be the one. word count 1k posted september 11, 2020

—three.

summary But Jungkook loves the sun. word count 1.5k posted september 12th, 2020

—four.

summary For the last ten minutes or so his mind has been bothered by one thing and one thing only— the hair that hung in his face. word count 800 words posted september 22, 2020

—five.

summary Startled and inexperienced, he can’t do anything but rub his hands over your back. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he murmurs, even though it’s not. word count 1.3k posted september 22, 2020

—six.

SUMMARY Jungkook enjoyed pushing you down, indulging you in all your little fantasies, but he too had some he wanted to live out. WC 1.8k POSTED september 25, 2020

—seven.

summary And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare. It’s a perfect plan. word count 2k posted october 30, 2020

—eight.

summary You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. But Jungkook is the same. word count 1.9k posted december 28, 2020

—nine.

summary “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?” word count 2.2k posted january 8 2021

—ten.

summary See, there’s no one in this world who ignores his house rules more than you. Even worse, there’s no one on this planet who can make Jungkook ignore his own rules like you do. word count 1.4k posted february 14, 2021

—eleven.

summary You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small. word count 1.2k posted may 3, 2021

—twelve.

summary Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. word count 1.4k posted may 8th, 2021

—thirteen.

summary Because for as much shit as you let him get away with, Jungkook is certain you’ll draw the line today. word count 1k posted june 13, 2021

—fourteen.

summary Jungkook needs you to know that you can always count on him. word count 1.3k posted july 6, 2021

—fifteen.

summary It’s Jungkook’s teenage fantasy— being pushed down by a cheerleader. word count 3.1k posted august 9, 2021

— sixteen.

summary Your skin is warm and smells like sunshine. Jungkook can’t really explain it. (And also like the sunscreen you had doused him in earlier, but that isn’t as romantic.) word count 1.9K posted august 11, 2021

—seventeen.

summary She looks his way and suddenly Jungkook is nineteen again, in his dorm, listening to the first person he ever thought he loved telling him he’s too much to handle. word count 1.6k posted august 18, 2021

beautiful banners made for series!

cute and cozy gif by the lovely @ladyartemesia

LASTLY:

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #ncml #mine

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catholicfacade · 2 years

Text

WIP Clark DeBussy Fic Preview

good evening, it's ego. i've decided to post some snippets of the clark fic i've been working on for like a month now! i'm a whore for praise and figured posting some of my personal favorite paragraphs i've written so far publicly might keep me motivated to write more often. i have not written or posted fan fiction in like 8 years and i often get quite discouraged when it comes to my own writing. i'm trying not to let that happen as much with this one since i've been really enjoying it, but i still have soooooo much to write!! so if you don't hear about this again for a while, don't think i gave up on it, i just have a lot i want to write about, and it takes me forever to do so </3

including the tags and warnings and plot points, everything you read below this line is completely subject to change before the final draft eventually gets posted >:) ——— ♰Synopsis: this fic follows the legion plot fairly closely but there is some divergence from cannon; completely gender-neutral reader is a mutant similar to David, where David's powers mostly deal w the conscious mind, readers deals w the subconscious mind, reader is mute irl but can talk in their dreams, has been through serious traumas in their life, Clark is secretly very lonely but acts tough 99% of the time, the relationship between reader and Clark can only be described as lovers to enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers again. ♰Tags: porn with plot, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, rough sex, lots and lots of heavy petting, pet names (literally) ♰Warnings: NSFW, dubious consent, sexual violence, choking, low self-esteem/poor mental health, mentions of drug use/pill popping

———

((interrogation scene))

“Readings are normal Mr.DeBussy.” Announces the guard that was watching the graphs on the monitor next to you.

“It’s probably because we’d need to catch you sleeping, isn’t that right?” Clark stares you down with a little smirk on his face.

You shrug.

Don’t give him anything. You remind yourself.

Don’t let him try and break you down.

“Well…” Clark snaps his file closed, he lays it down along with his pen and claps his hands together in front of him.

“…you’re officially useless!” He smirks again. A couple of the guards behind you stifle a laugh.

Something boils inside of you. But you don’t let them see that. If only you would be kind enough to show them what their big, mean, tough boss dreams about! A house by the ocean, a sappy long lost lover, a puppy like need for affection. Oh how he melted in your hands like butter. Maybe then they’d know who to laugh at.

“Go ahead and take them away, bring in the next one.” Clark says, and the two guards behind you move to your chair, they rip the scanners from your temples and haul you up by your arms. You never once break eye contact with Clark. He knows he’s a fucking liar and you wished that he would just show you something, some sign, that he was sorry or that he had to act big and tough for show. But Clark gave you nothing. His eyes were as fiery and steadfast as yours were.

You decided you hated him. You shouldn’t have even felt anything for him after just a couple of dreams anyway. He was just like the others. He didn’t love you, he just loved your power (ironically enough). That’s it. Clark DeBussy. He’s just like the rest of them.

———

((dream sequence part 1))

Just as you were about to turn around and walk to Clark’s side of the room, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you. One snaked around your waist, the other around your neck, both held you In place with an iron grip, leaving you completely unable to turn or look behind you. His front was pressed flush against your back, his breath already hitting your ear and sending a chill down your spine. You gasped softly, hands reaching up to grab the arm at your throat.

“Promise me you won’t turn around.” Clark whispered close to your right ear.

You chewed your bottom lip, and after a minute of contemplating, you nodded, the idea that you can actually talk in dreams slipping your mind temporarily.

The arm around your neck was now moved to match the other one on your waist, bringing your hips back with a bump against his groin. You gasped again when you could feel his throbbing erection through his pants, pressed into your ass. Your hands reached down and laid flat against the top of the dresser steadying yourself, the cool surface just underneath your palms. God you wanted to look back right now, but you kept your promise and looked forward.

You could barely even process the fact that Clark was here, which meant he was alive out there in the world somewhere, before his hands were on you, touching and groping you everywhere. His fingers slipped under your shirt and pressed a heavy line tracing up your spine, you arched your back into his touch. His other hand grabbing the tender flesh of your ass hungrily. You couldn’t stifle the ‘mmmpf’ that escaped your lips sounding like half a whimper, half a moan. Your eyes fluttered shut as you dropped your head.

“C-Clark…please….” you manage to whisper.

You wanted to beg for so many things at once that you couldn’t get any of your words out. You wanted to see him, you wanted to know he was okay, you wanted to scream at him for the way he treated you, you wanted to ask him why he came back, you wanted to ask ‘why me’?

“Careful…” Clark said is a dangerously low voice, his left hand snaking up your spine even further, tangling into the hair on the back of your neck and pulling it hard enough to lift your head back. You let out a groan and bit the inside of your cheek.

“…you keep begging for me like that sweetheart and I’ll have you on your knees in no time.” He pressed a kiss into the side of your neck, his lips felt different, rough and uncared for, the corner of them felt rubbery and raised in a strange way, like a blister. It made you furrow your brows together.

“I want to see you.” You said bluntly.

“You just promised me-“

“I want to see you Clark.” You’re more firm, even with his hand still tangled in your hair you’re trying to stand up to him. The hand quickly leaves your head, letting you gain control over your movement again and you let out a sigh.

A small gap forms between your bodies now, he’s taken a step back. You can feel his eyes still on you, burning, never leaving you unwatched. And then more steps back, but there’s something else there, a distinct third tap of something wooden as he takes a step and another and another, until you hear the soft fabric on the bed shift and then settle under him.

“Walk backwards to me. I want you to sit in my lap.” Clark’s voice doesn’t give away anything, and you wished you could slip into his mind and just figure out for yourself what he’s thinking about. But you feel his unconscious body is somewhere too far away, and without direct eye contact, it’s difficult to find out what’s going on in there that he’s not letting on.

So you follow his instructions, taking a careful step back, another careful step back, and on the third one you bump into him, he guides you to sit between his long legs, and you can see his pants finally. They don’t look any different than the other suit pants he’s worn before, just a deep maroon color this time.

So you sit up straight in his lap with your hands on your knees, the heat of his crotch still haunts your backside and makes you gulp.

“Close your eyes.” He whispers, and you close them, as you do so, he places his head against your shoulder and his arms around your waist again. You can feel so much more of his face now, at least you think it’s his face. It’s that same rubbery feeling like before, the plane of his skin is uneven against your thin shirt, and he feels a bit feverish.

“Go ahead and picture a mirror in front of us.” He says softly.

So you do, you picture a mirror on the wall across from you, one big enough to see the both of you. When you open your eyes to it, you can only see yourself for the most part. Behind you pokes out that salt and pepper hair you so desperately love. That maroon suit continues upward to the sleeves of his jacket, a hint of a deeper purple shirt underneath the cuffs on each wrist. His hands are around you, one looks the same as the last time you saw it, while the other looks like it’s hurt somehow. You squint to get a better look at what’s going on with it.

Clark slowly reveals his face now, resting his chin on your shoulder, catching your gaze in the mirror. You stare back at him wide eyed, your jaw coming slightly unhinged as you try to soak him in.

———

((dream sequence part 2))

“Clark?” You sidle up closer to him, petting the blistered skin on his bad side with a feathered touch.

“Yes baby?” He hums sleepily, his eyes are still closed, his fingers lightly trace nonsense shapes onto the skin of your back.

“Are you…” You hesitate.

“…safe?”

The question immediately feel like it shouldn’t have been asked, it’s almost too intimate, even after what you two just did. You sink with regret as Clark’s fingers stop suddenly against your back.

“With you still in the world, no one is safe.”

He plants a kiss on your forehead before turning away from you. The room grows dimmer now, the last few minutes of sunset masking your view in a glow of total red. You can’t move, your body is completely frozen over like ice. You can see your vision go blurry, and a wetness falls down your cheek as you stare into the twisted knots of scabbed over flesh along Clark’s shoulder. In this lighting they seem to breathe when he breathes, like they’re their own entity, separate from the rest of his body. It horrifies and amazes you all at once. You bite your lip and try not to sob as you find the courage to turn away from him like he did to you.

After a few minutes of patient biting, you feel Clark fade from the dream, his consciousness returning to his body on earth. You sob and sob and sob into your pillow, until you can’t remember ever doing anything else but sobbing. And eventually you’re called back to your body too, the sound of an alarm growing increasingly louder as the dream fades to black.

———

((clarks big speech to you at summerland))

“Hey!” He repeats louder, angrier, across from you.

You keep walking, not even looking in his direction, it’s as if he’s not even there. You’re breathing through your nose heavily, and biting the inside of your cheek to distract you. If you don’t, you feel like you might start crying. There’s so much going through your head right now. You just want to be left alone for once.

Clark is the worst clingy boyfriend ever.

As you get ready to pass him and rear the corner of the brick building, Clark’s steps come closer to yours, catching up to you surprisingly fast with his cane. You’re only a couple steps behind the facade of the building, out of sight of anyone else, when Clark’s hand grabs your shoulder and pushes you back forcefully. You turn and stumble backwards, hitting the wall with a small thud. He cages you in immediately, grabbing the wrist on your right arm and pinning it against the wall, his cane presses into your thigh, blocking your escape on your left side. The roughness of the brick against your shirt makes you want to cry, but so do the fingers digging into your wrist. You bite your lip and glare at him enough to burn him.

Clark leans down over you, cool as a cucumber. He smells the same as you remember, like sandalwood and patchouli. His scars stand prominent on his half swollen face, and you think about scratching at them to get away. But you can’t. You start thinking of the many ways to fight back and escape right now, but deep down, you don’t actually want to.

You try to free your wrist from his grip but he clamps down harder, pushing it and scratching it against the brick behind you.

“I missed you.” He says very bluntly. There’s absolutely no sound of love in his voice, no smile on his face, no easing up on his grip. He looks at you the way he would look at anybody else. And that makes you want to cry.

You shake your head and reach up gently toward his face with your free hand, placing it over his bad eye, the one where you know for a fact everyone at Division-3 will be watching and hearing this conversation right now. That is the last thing you wanted, for some jerks in their suits to be getting off to Clark degrading you and spilling all of the secrets about your past relationship in front of them.

Clark laughs darkly and removes your hand from over his eye.

“Sweetheart, they’re not listening or watching. Did you really think I’d let them see this? See you? No, no, no.” He laughs again, and shakes his head just like you did.

“Baby, I make the rules here, if I don’t want them to listen in on me, I can tune them out. No questions asked.” He smirks and drops your hand by your side again. Clark lets go of your wrist on the other side as well, now that he’s let you know you’re all alone, he wants to show you a little trust. You just stand there, wide eyed and wrist throbbing.

“It’s a nice little privilege I’ve gotten for my sacrifices to the organization. If I’m out on personal business, they can get disconnected at the snap of a finger!” He snaps his fingers awfully close to your face, making you flinch. His smile fades quickly and he stares down at you for a second. You swear his eyes trace your lips for a second before coming back up to meet yours.

“Here’s the deal. I have burns on over 40% of my body and I spent six weeks with a tube jammed into the head of my dick. We were ambushed at the pool. Men died. And you want to know what the craziest part is?” Clark’s voice is low now.

“When I eventually woke up from that horrible, excruciating pain on my right side, I didn’t have anyone there to comfort me. I didn’t have anyone there to tell me they missed me or that they were glad I was alright or just to simply hold my hand as I sat in a hospital bed, suffering for over a month...”

You watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly. His eyes were undeniably glossy now, as he stared deeply into your eyes. But he didn’t let his emotions betray him, not a single tear fell, not a single muscle in his face moved at that moment, he was unchanging and colder than ice.

“When I went home, there was no one there for me. I laid in bed alone for days on end. I could barely even walk myself around the house. I didn’t get any help or any support or any relief from anyone. I knew whenever I got to work again, I would be going to war.”

You immediately felt a heavy pang to your heart, but you were keeping up as much of a straight face as he was right now. Neither one of you letting on to what’s actually going on deep down. It took everything in your power (no pun intended) to not slip into him immediately and caress that trauma away, tell him you’re sorry, and fill him with relief.

You just hung your head down, starting to feel guilty and ashamed, letting your eyes stare into the small patch of concrete between your shoes. Clark pinches your chin and lifts your gaze back up to his.

“You know, for those six weeks I only ever dreamt once? I slept a lot because of the painkillers, but never once, after that first dream, did I ever see your face again.” He whispers to you, his face so close to yours, his breath hitting you everywhere.

“That’s funny isn’t it?”

Your eyes flutter shut, your breath hitches, and you’re not exactly sure what will happen next, but your heart starts beating rapidly, waiting for something.

———

((an early visit from clark in the middle of the night))

Your heart skips a beat when he takes another step toward you, his head hanging over yours now, eyes dangerously close to yours, lips dangerously close to yours. He’s looking at your lips you notice.

You don’t like being taken advantage of. Nobody does. You haven’t been able to get a word in with Clark for days now. He seems to enjoy catching you off guard lately, finding just the right (wrong) times to sneak up on you, where you can’t say anything, you can’t fight back. Times where nobody else is around and you’re exhausted from memory work, or times where you haven’t slept because you’re afraid he might come back to you in a dream. Times where you feel helpless and cornered.

You’re sick of it. He doesn’t get to take advantage of you anymore.

‘I can play your little game too Clark.’ You think to yourself.

You look him dead in the eyes, putting your new training to work, you slip into his mind. It’s heavy in there, feverish, he’s angry, and everything’s hot to the touch. But as you go farther in, careful not to touch the anger brimming on the surface, closer to the abyss of forgotten memories and unconscious practices, sits fear. He’s scared and doesn’t want to be alone.

You smile a little bit and let out a quick laugh. He should really know better by now not to let you just slip into his mind like that, but he just loves letting you in there doesn’t he?

‘Oh Clark, baby…what’s there to be afraid of?’

You inch closer to his face, a bright and evil smile spreads across your lips. Your voice reverberates loud in his brain, it catches him off guard, you see the fear pass just behind his eyes now, crashing together with the anger. Clark blinks, then gulps, and takes a step back. The entire dynamic is flipped on its head in an instant.

“Stop that.” There’s a shake in his voice, but he tries to sound as though he’s still in control. He stares at you, unwilling to back down. You can feel his fear and loneliness tangling together at the back of his mind. You want to pull on it like a rope, make it stretch and fray around the edges, until you pull so hard it splits apart again.

‘Do I scare you?’ You look at him through heavy lids, examining his face like you’re about to devour him. You circle his body, now his back is the one up against a wall, and you stand freely in the space of your room at the foot of your bed.

Clark doesn’t say anything. Your voice is so loud in his skull, bouncing throughout every corridor of his brain, slipping in and out of places he doesn’t want you to be, you’re stronger than the first time he saw you. Much stronger. And that’s what begins to scare him. He clenches his jaw and tightens his knuckles, which have now turned white from gripping the wolf on top of his cane.

‘You’re afraid to be without me huh, baby?

Am I your dirty little secret you hide from your coworkers?

Am I your little plaything that you can’t seem to get enough of?

Your sweet little pet?

If I fuck you good enough, will you tell me that you love me?’

You could say so much more to him, but the next thing you know, Clark’s on top of you, pinning you down to your bed. His cane has been discarded to the side and his hands reach down to choke you. At first you don’t even realize what’s happening, you’re still working your way out of his brain. His hands don’t really stop your breathing at first, he’s just pushing on you, until he makes a little grunting noise and adjusts his shoulders, that’s when you realize your breathing has stopped and you can’t get it to start again. Your heart starts beating even faster now. The twisted up face he’s making shows that he’s struggling to put all his effort into killing you. This is hard for him.

Clark’s hands clamp around your throat, squeezing down more and more and more. He uses his body weight to immobilize your hips, crushing you from the waist down. His crotch is flush with yours and you can feel the heat of him rubbing against you. You try to wiggle under him, maybe granting yourself some sort of freedom but it’s useless. Your eyes open wide when you try to swallow but you can’t, so you cough and choke on the spit that gets caught in your throat. Your continuous movement only gives him more room to press down. You grab his wrists and try to breathe in with little success.

His eyes are wild as he’s shaking above you. You don’t fight back as you watch him, if this is the way you die, so be it. You’ve had a long life full of nothing but pain and misery. There have been so many countless times you feel like you should’ve died that at this point, you welcome death with open arms. Part of you wanted to even thank Clark for putting you out of your misery. You wanted to tell him that you loved him because this was, in the most backwards way possible, the kindest thing anyone has ever done for you.

So you try, with whatever effort remains inside of you, to look into his eyes and reach the deep waters in Clark’s brain again. You try to tell him ‘I wouldn’t have wanted it to end any other way, please be a little kinder to the others while I’m gone.’ But you’re not sure if the whole message gets across, there’s black spots dancing in your vision now, your head feels like it’s about to explode, you just wished it would be over quicker.

Your eyes flutter shut and a tear rolls down the side of your face, into your hair. You lay your head back and take it all in. The swimming vision, the ache in your crotch, the heaviness of his hands against your body, the blood getting caught under the pinched nerves, your heart beat completely uneven in your jugular. Your back arches and you hear yourself gurgle a little bit and it sends a chill throughout your body. The grip you have on his wrists is slipping. You can feel your finger tips tingling like static on a TV.

You’re about to give in to the encroaching darkness when Clark’s hands suddenly ease up, and his lips come crashing down on yours. His tongue parts your lips and you gasp for air, only getting a single breath in before Clark’s covering your mouth with his again. You start to kiss him back. His hands on your throat haven’t left, but they aren’t pressing down on you anymore, his thumbs are gently stroking the area you’re sure will be bruised a deep purple tomorrow.

You reach your hands up to lightly grasp his shoulders, your arms are still weak and recovering. He shifts himself in between your legs now, the backs of your thighs pressing against Clark’s. His hands are trailing down from your throat to your chest and he runs his fingers over your nipples. It must be the adrenaline, or at least you hoped it was the adrenaline making your sex hormones go crazy. Because your nipples harden immediately under the fabric of your shirt. You were getting hot and sticky between your thighs and every part of you throbbed with anticipation for more.

You gasp again when Clark broke the kiss on your lips to kiss your cheek, kiss your chin, then dipping down to kiss that pretty little throat he just majorly fucked up.

Clark pulls away to look at you.

You’re both breathing heavy, his eyes still have that wild flare to them as he watches you to see if things are okay to continue, and in some weird fucked up way, they are. You let your hands travel to his face and pull him back in to kiss you. Clark hums and runs his hands down your torso, he starts to unbutton your pants, you desperately reach down to help him move along faster.

If he doesn’t fuck you right now and hard, you’ll surely be the one killing him next, or at least be the one waking up tomorrow and telling everyone Clark broke into your room last night and tried to kill you and then fuck you.

You both fumble for a second but pry your pants open at the same time, the zipper comes undone with one quick pull and a loud ‘zrrrt’ that flies through the air of the quiet room. You quickly move to undo Clark’s pants next. His cock feels rock hard when you accidentally graze it. It makes you pull away from the kiss to look at him, his face is full of lust and sweat as he looks down at you, his hands resting heavily against your tummy.

He looks like he wants to eat you from the inside out. You’re trying to figure out if it’s in a good way or a bad way.

‘Was this his plan all along?’ You think to yourself.

Clark pulls your shirt up over your head, tossing it to the floor, your chest bare to him now. You’d say you’re blushing from the realization that it’s the first time he’s seeing you naked in real life, but you’re pretty sure your face is still bright red thanks to him. He leans down again, taking the soft skin on your chest between his teeth, it makes your jaw go slack and you throw your head back against the mattress. He kisses you everywhere, biting and sucking and leaving marks on you, as if the two handprints that will be perfectly engraved on your throat tomorrow won’t be enough to say ‘Clark made me his last night’.

You make quick work of his belt and fly. As soon as they’re both undone, your hands go up to tug the hair on his scalp as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Clark shows you absolutely no mercy by sucking on your sensitive bud, letting his tongue flick over it, left to right, up and down. His tongue feels so hot over your sensitive skin, licking away the taste of you until there’s nothing left.

And when he grazes your nipple with his teeth, you suck in a sharp breath, your back arching instinctively into his body. He traps you in this position by snaking an arm around the curve of your back, holding you in place against him. His other arm keeps him propped up over you, your nipple perfectly positioned in his mouth, being ruthlessly wetted by kisses and licks from him. And when Clark’s mouth switches sides, it leaves the skin of your chest red and abused. The bitter chill of the room hits your damp skin, already missing the tug of Clark’s mouth, and gives you goosebumps.

With your head thrown back on the mattress and your hands tangled in Clark’s hair, he gives the same treatment to your other bud. He sucks and bites and tortures your poor nipples until you feel like sobbing. The pain and pleasure combined starts to give you a head rush, your arms feel weak again and you can’t help but lay them above you.

He bites once more and you twitch in his arms, the precum between your legs begins to soak through your underwear. Your body begs for friction elsewhere, your need for Clark is endless. He moans when your hips tilt up, and the heat of your crotch grazes his aching cock.

He pulls away hastily, letting your back hit the bed under you again. It takes the breath out of you for a second as you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him swiftly rip his maroon jacket off, then his shirt, which he doesn’t bother to unbutton, just tugs it over his head and tosses it where neither of you can see. You can feel the nerves just under the skin of your chest firing rapidly with tingly little pops like fireworks.

Clark’s chest too looks like some sort of bright firecracker, the skin on his right side weaves and blooms with redness and paleness alike. Damn David for doing this to such a fucking gorgeous man, but it’s true what they say, people do really dig scars.

Your heart beats wildly.

You don’t have much time to admire him as his hands find the waistband of your pants, which he no less than rips off of your body, along with your underwear in one big swoop. They end up quickly forgotten on the floor, with the other scatterings of yours and his clothes.

He steps back and admires your gorgeous body, now naked, panting and slick with sweat on the bed in front of him.

“Wanna know something?” Clark’s voice is weirdly calm, so clam it sends chills down your spine.

You bite your lip and nod at him. He watches you, watching him, take his pants and underwear off slowly. His cock springs to life at its new found freedom, you try to keep eye contact with him, but when his cock is so pretty and pink and begging to be touched, your eyes can’t help but flick down in anticipation for it.

Clark comes back to resume his position between your legs, his eyes flash down to your sex, when his hips end up flush with yours again, he rests his cock on top of the soft flesh of your pelvis. You look at the size of him, and take a deep breath in. From this angle, you can’t wrap your head around how it’s all going to fit in. He cups your face gently and leans in over you.

“You are my pet, and I’m going to make you learn that tonight.”

Clark’s voice is so deep, it makes him rumble above you. He grips the back of your neck with his left hand, your eyes go wide for a split second, and pushes the index and middle fingers on his right hand into your wet mouth. You welcome him in gladly, almost embarrassed at how well you immediately coat him in your saliva, licking the salty taste of his skin off of his fingers.

You look deeply into his eyes and he smirks as he watches you, desperate for his touch anywhere inside of you, even if it was just your mouth. You’re definitely embarrassed now. But you just keep wetting him with your tongue, swirling around him in your mouth. Clark’s fingers go in deeper, you feel his knuckles brushing against your top lip and the tips of his fingers curling around the curve of your throat.

He watches your mouth work to wet him through heavy lids. Your own eyes are fluttering shut, but you try to keep them open to watch him back. You can feel your body wanting to gag against him, but you won’t let it happen, you’ll keep him deep in your mouth with absolutely no hesitation. He loves feeling the back of your throat, poking around where he’s not “supposed” to be.

Clark is very sure this is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

He looks so pleased with you. You might just die from his look alone.

“Good pet.” He hums and slips his fingers out of your mouth, you huff with a hot breath as you watch his fingers leave you, a web of sticky spit still connects your tongue with his fingers. You feel the tiny string snap against your lower lip and pool there as he pulls away.

He reaches down and wipes his two fingers slick with your spit, against the swollen head of his cock, making it shine in the low light of your room. He presses the tip of himself against your entrance. Your body is so hungry for him that you almost think to reach down and put all of him inside of you yourself! But you keep your hands pressed down against the bedsheets, your head hazy and swimming with lust for Clark.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Clark asks, keeping his voice low.

You secretly melted every time he called you that.

Sweetheart. Baby. Pet.

Clark loved calling you that to make your insides twist, he always knew that’s what he did to you. You weren’t sure which one you like being called more. The fact that he called you anything, made you squirm. His simple acknowledgement of you as a person always sent all the blood in your body rushing to your crotch. It made you feel like you were his. Wholly owned by Clark, never anyone else.

———

((comfort from clark after a bad memory work session with Dr.Bird & Ptonomy))

Clark runs a hand up and down your back as you let a few more tears fall from your eyes and onto his suit jacket. You’ll clean it up for him tomorrow.

“I held you there…in the closet. I tried to….talk to you, I guess.” Clark’s voice is soft but unsure. Now that it’s just the two of you he can finally process what just happened.

You lift your head and look up at him, both of your eyes are sad, yours are bloodshot and tear stained, his are worried and tired. You nod and press a finger to your temple and smile at him softly.

“You dreamt it? Good because I-“ He smiles and realizes he’s gotten ahead of himself.

“Because I love you.” Clark says firmly.

“I love you and I hoped you also dreamt of me coming to rescue you because I was beginning to think I made it up!” He chuckles nervously.

You nod again and tap your temple. You had dreamed the same dream. The one that started this whole thing. Although you didn’t realize it at the time, that was the first time Clark had ever appeared in your dreams. The light that surrounded him made him glow above you, you saw him as your guardian angel.

You place your hands firmly on either side of his face, anchoring his gaze to yours.

‘I love you’, you mouth at him and you guide his lips to yours.

You take Clark’s top lip in between your own, then his bottom one. Stubble on the left side of his face scratches your cheek gently, but you don’t mind it at all. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deeper, parting your lips for him when his tongue begs for entry. He holds your waist flush against his body while you two kiss.

For a moment you don’t worry about who sees, the world right now is just you and Clark, soft lips and wet tongues.

You both pull away and share a quiet laugh.

“Let’s get you back to your room, shall we?” Clark smirks and turns toward the door of the memory cube, he’s grabbing your arm for guidance since his cane is gone.

It’s dark out now, you’re not sure exactly how long you all were in the memory cube for but you’re sure that everyone else has gone to bed by now.

You help Clark navigate the stairs outside and up to your room. You push the door open and walk in, but Clark remains outside. You turn to look at him, confused. He smirks a little and leans against the door frame.

“I’m technically not allowed to come in still.”

You roll your eyes and tug his arm inside, he doesn’t hesitate after that.

Once he’s inside, you shut your door and turn to join him in your bedroom. Clark groans as he sits on the edge of the bed. The side of the bed you’ve come to learn is ‘his’, you used to sleep directly in the middle out of habit, but dozens of late night Clark visits have taught you to leave some room for him.

You kick off your shoes quickly and quite literally flop down face first into your side of the bed, burying your face into your pillow.

“Hey, wait for me sweetheart! You know I need help with these damn shoes.”

You can hear Clark struggling to reach down and untie the shoe on his bad side, he just can’t seem to bend down far enough without it hurting him. You would pretend it annoyed you to help him sometimes, but you secretly loved doing little things for him like this.

You sigh and roll over to his side of the bed before coming to kneel on the floor in front on him. You untie his shoe, slip it off of his foot, and place it beside the other one underneath the bedside table. You can’t help but smile at the domestication of it all when Clark flicks on the TV to some soap opera you’ve never heard of.

You look up at Clark and start to unfasten the deep red buttons of his shirt. As you do so, you kiss him, once, then twice, letting the third one linger and become deeper. He lets a small moan release from his throat once you’ve finished unbuttoning him all the way, he feels your hands on the skin of his torso. But before your hands can travel further south, he stops you. His hands come to rest gently over yours against his chest. You pull away from the kiss to see him.

“Tonight we should just rest. You need it more than me. And don’t- don’t give me that look baby, when you know I’m right.”

You do know that he’s right but that doesn’t stop you from pouting. You kiss him a couple more times and help him take off his jacket. You put it on a hanger in your closet, letting a finger trace over the mostly dry tear stains that lay faintly on the shoulder. You turn back to see Clark almost completely naked, except for his underwear, he’s getting under the covers and smiles when he catches you staring.

You love his scars, even if he doesn’t. You wished to memorize the patterns of them one day, to be able to trace and retrace them, over and over and over again in your mind.

You slip into the bathroom quickly, just to brush your teeth before bed. The face in the mirror is almost unrecognizable to you, it’s you, and you know that, but sometimes when things get hard, you wish you didn’t recognize it in the end. So you face the other direction when brushing your teeth, leaning your back against the counter and go through the motions. It’s nice to play pretend like none of the memory work effects you, but it’s draining. Years have ticked away, pills have been swallowed, strangers have come and gone, all to make you forget. Yet the memories were still there, just laying under a murky surface of denial. And now, being in such a strange place with strange people telling you there’s no more time to forget. This is how the murk clears up.

What you can see now in those subconscious waters is years of bitter neglect. You waited to be loved for so long, by your parents, by your friends, by strange men and women in your bedroom at night. But none of them loved you.

Your mom never wanted you, that was clear. You ruined her life. And your dad had his own special way of showing you ‘love’.

Those few and far between friends found you cold, distant, preoccupied, and not at all easy to get along with. You were a burden to bring around, like hauling heavy luggage through a long airport.

As for those strangers knocking on your door at night, they would tell you they loved you, but really they just loved the way you could dance around their head and make them feel floaty, light as air. You mistook it for love a couple of times. If they came back as often as they did, it had to be love right? But love doesn’t come at the price of half a dozen sleeping pills a day, sometimes more.

You shake your head, the ache in your chest lingers as you spit out your toothpaste in the sink and rinse your mouth. You avoid the mirror at all costs and promptly exit the bathroom.

Clark is heavy lidded and staring at the TV, he wakes up a little at the sight of you and smiles. You smile back and climb over his legs to get to your side of the bed. You shimmy under the blanket and smile at the relief and comfort the warmth brings you. You feel Clark pull the covers up around you and him, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you in tight against his body. His face is buried in your neck, leaving a kiss here and there, his stubble tickles your skin as he finds the perfect place to rest his head. Clark lets his right hand find yours and interlocks his fingers with you, his thumb begins lazily rubbing patterns over your knuckles.

You’re trying to think about how this was the way Clark held little you in the memory. You didn’t get to see any of it of course, but it’s now all so familiar. Your guardian angel. He was warm like this in your first dream. He was safe like this too. You wanted to remind yourself to thank Clark for holding little you when you see him in dreamland.

He was already on thin ice around Summerland and going in and messing up Ptonomy’s delicate memory work would not grant him any brownie points with anybody. But it meant the world to you. You’d never been cared for like that, someone sacrifices what little trust they already have with the people around them just to protect this memory version of you? You? Maybe that…..that….was the price of love after all.

Before you even realize it, you’re drifting off, the theatrics of the soap opera across from you start to fade into static. The heat of Clark was everywhere, enveloping you, making you feel safe and secure and loved. Finally loved. Those deep waters in the back of your brain were muted now.

———————————————————

i appreciate everyone who took the time to read all of this, i’m open to any suggestions or discussions about this fic or writing in general! i pray that i will continue to enjoy writing it, and at some point, get to post it for you all to finally read! i have a few writing pieces for other hamish characters in my notes currently, but they are nowhere near as grand as this clark fic is right now.

♰Ego

#hamish linklater #clark debussy #wip fic #legionfx #my wiritng #previews

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