Disclaimer: Not mine, don’t own, not making money or trying to make money.
Rating: M/R, for implied incest and referenced canon rape.
Pairing: Persephone/Hades, The Dark Queen/The Pyrippus, Bo/Rainer, implied Persephone/Aife.
Summary: “Persephone” isn’t the only name she’s gone by. Rainer isn’t what the Blood King was scared of. Some things can’t be written out of history; some things are too old.
The gods of the Fae, reincarnation, Bo’s origins, the accession of the Blood King, and the only damn sense I can make out of the Rainer plotline.
A/N: Not remotely shippy. Fix-it fic from “Persephone”‘s perspective. Heavy on the mythology. Also over at AO3.
Octavia shouting down Lexa for allowing the missile to drop on TonDC and for influencing Clarke and blaming Lexa for the fact that Clarke is gone now and no one knows where she is and she’s super worried about Clarke even though she’s absolutely furious with her still.
Lexa trying to be aloof and “Clarke made the decisions she had to and she’s always had that in her and oh by the way she saved your life” and detached and failing because she blames herself too.
Octavia getting Lexa to help search for Clarke.
Octavia starting to see the cracks in Lexa’s armor and what made her what she is and hating every bit of compassion she feels for her.
Octavia/Lexa hatesex.
The shipnames. Commander Butterfly? Commander Kitten?
Octavia/Lexa. Leading to Clarke/Octavia/Lexa, because of course.
Fic: What Doesn’t Kill You (Now Will Kill You Someday)
Author: coffeehousehaunt
Fandom: The 100 (TV show)
Disclaimer: Not mine, don’t own, not making money. I just haven’t had a day off in almost a month now, so I’m compensating by staying up til all hours of the night writing fanfic. Because that makes sense.
Rating: M/R, because major character death, violence, and torture
Pairings: Implied Clarke/Lexa and Lincoln/Octavia, but not really a shippy piece.
Summary: “This isn’t just war. It’s extermination. But you never got that, did you? You never cared about the big picture.”
A/N: TW for torture. Speculative S3 piece centered on Octavia. It gets dark pretty quickly. A lot of Octavia, a lot of Clarke. Also over at AO3.
***
“Meet me in the Vale,” Bellamy catches her arm one day in camp, whispers. “At the drop ship.”
Author: coffeehousehaunt
Fandom: The 100
Disclaimer: Not mine, not profiting, don’t own.
Rating: T
Pairing: Clarke/Octavia, implied Clarke/Octavia/Lexa
Summary: Legends, living and not. Futurefic set roughly 10+ years in the future.
Author’s note: For #clarktaviaweek15; also over on AO3. It’s a lighter piece than the last one.
Disclaimer: Don’t own, not making money. I should be studying so that I can get my certs and actually earn money, but I’m doing this instead.
Rating: E/NC-17 (but, like, light E/NC-17. Is that a thing?
Pairing: Bo/Tamsin (headcanon: it’s in a poly!verse, but this is the focus in this fic.)
Summary: “There are answers; I’ve asked you for them before. You give me your throat instead. Muscles cording, chin lifting, pointing—here. It’s right here.
In you.”
Notes: Also at AO3. Written entirely to the Deconstructedversion of “Supernatural” by Ke$ha. Go listen to it. It will make your little shipper heart go boom. Also sounds like “Madman” from the spybang scene in Season 1, if you’re into that.
All I could think about when I got this prompt was Kenzi’s “Did you get her pregnant?” comment in 2x06, so I started there.
Seasons 2 and 3 went very differently, needless to say.
***
Bo’s collapsed, half on the edge of her bed, half slouching off, staring at a small box with a bow on it. The one she came back with from the Morrigan’s. Ho boy. Damage control time. Kenzi makes an immediate flight path correction and comes in for a landing.
“Weird not having the doc here, isn’t it?” She fibs to make an entrance as she slides backward onto the bed. “Just when I was getting used to her.” She settles back against the headboard and crosses her legs in one smooth motion. Kenzi for the save.
Except Bo doesn’t answer, just stares at that box with her mouth set in a hard line and a slight frown creasing her forehead. That look that she gets when she’s about to do something really stupid and honorable. An ache settles just under her chest. Bo’s taking this hard, “What’s up, babe?” She prods gently.
“Lauren stuff.” Bo mutters without looking up, staring at the box like she can’t figure out how to open it. It’s not a cipher, babe. Just a bow.
“Did you get her pregnant?” Kenzi teases.
Bo’s shoulders sag, and Kenzi’s brain stops working. When Bo looks up, her eyes are dark, serious—scared.
Kenzi’s jaw drops. “What.”
Bo just looks at her, with a kind of helpless, agonized confusion.
“Okay, I knew you had magic fingers, but dude, I ate food you cooked with those hands. You could’ve, like, worn a hand condom or something.” She stops and frowns. “Is that even a thing?”
Bo shoots her those stupid soft brown puppy dog eyes, all hurt and this isn’t funny, Kenz, and Kenzi thinks it maybe had more to do with those than any kind of Fae juju. Thank god she’s immune.
“If I end up having your succu-baby, you are so paying child support.”
Bo finally rolls her eyes a little and her eyebrows twitch defeatedly. “A nail. From Evony.”
Kenzi’s face goes from Mulder to Scully in point-two seconds. “Really.” For someone in the arts, Evony has zero sense of originality.
Then again, she is an agent. God only knows who the talent was.
Sarah dreams about that night in the tent, but when the shadow dog on the wall leans in and she hears the exaggerated slurp of Helena’s lick, she feels his nose on hers, warm, ticklish—
Except she’s already partway awake, and something’s tickling her nose. There’s a shadow, a warm shadow, next to her, but it’s gone as quickly as her sleep.
"What the hell—Hey!" Sarah shouts as she sees Helena fleeing across the room.
Kisses Prompts: Shoulder kiss (OTP: everyone/The Wings)
Dyson doesn’t touch them; Tamsin’s almost grateful, though she knows the others just don’t know better. Still, even he gets curious after a while.
These shoulders, they carry people. It’s not a thing they’re ever going to talk about. But after Kenzi, he presses his face into her neck while she bleeds into her clothes and she’s almost asleep when he rests his head against her shoulder and kisses it gently.
And he avoids the raw skin there, but she knows what he means by it.
Reasons why I need the A in LGBTIAQ to stand for Asexual, not Ally
Because my mother told me that all I needed to do was get drunk and lie back and let my husband have his fun. Because if I was drunk, I’d be more relaxed and it’d be over sooner
Because my sister told me that I was trapping my husband in an abusive marriage, and that one day he was going to leave me
Because both of them looked at me in disgust
Because my asexuality is considered to be as great a crime against my husband as a woman who has affairs and cheats on her husband
Because my cousin didn’t even try to understand, and just kept asking ‘but what about in five years? how will you feel then?’
Because I was so afraid of my body and so afraid of sex that I didn’t seek medical help for a legitimate question for over a year for fear of being labelled a deviant or something broken
Because I still ask myself at least once every day if my husband wouldn’t be better off without me
Because I still ask myself at least once every day if I’m broken
Because I still tell myself at least once every day that I’m pathetic and useless and an abnormality
Because I love my husband with every fiber of my being, but everywhere I turn I’m told I really don’t, because love = sex
I need A to stand for Asexual because nobody ever talked to me about asexuality even when I was an outpatient at the women’s hospital for 18 months, and everyone told me desire would come in time
I need A to stand for Asexual because we are literally invisible, and so unimportant that people assume we don’t even need representation, because everyone assumes our lives must be bland and unimportant and lacking in challenges or bigotry
For every asexual that wants a relationship, for every asexual that does not want a relationship, for every asexual who has not yet come to terms with their identity, for every asexual who was told we were abnormalities, for every asexual who was told we just weren’t doing sex right, that we needed a good fucking, that we needed to be drunk, that we needed to relax, that we needed to be raped
We need representation, and we need visibility
That is why the A needs to stand for Asexual, and never for Ally
