#'and in what novel way might I climb out of it?'

[rulesforthedance]

I would say before a race I’m looking forward to the pain cave; like, that’s what I want, I wanna visit it, I wanna make it bigger, that’s the whole purpose, um, I’m looking forward to some new hallucinated friends, and then there’s always just that, like... wonder? Like, it’s not fearful of, but it’s kinda like, I dunno, the unknown of what the unexpected thing will be during that race and will I be able to problem solve it and deal with it well.

Courtney Dauwalter on Some Work, All Play Podcast

[perkypeony]

𝕋ℝ𝔸ℙℙ𝔼𝔻

Yandere Gojo Satoru x fem reader

The days blur together in a repetitive cycle. Trapped in Satoru's apartment with no phone and no human interaction, y/n begins to feel her sanity slip.

“Is he still mad at me?” she mumbles to herself. It has been five days since Satoru left for a mission. He told her that this mission would take three days, yet he's nowhere to be found. Not that she doesn't appreciate the alone time, but the thought that he might purposely leave her alone in this apartment to die and rot is too haunting to ignore.

She gets up from the bed and makes her way to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she sees an egg. There isn't much left in there; a few more days without his return and she will be starving. She makes scrambled eggs and toasts a slice of bread. As she eats, her mind can't stop recalling her argument with Satoru the night before he left.

The soft glow of the TV bathes the living room in a warm light as y/n absentmindedly flips through the channels. It is one of the few things left that she can enjoy in her otherwise restricted life.

Suddenly, the screen goes black, and she turns to see Satoru standing by the TV, remote in hand. His usual smirk plays on his lips as he approaches her.

“Time for bed,” he announces, not giving her a chance to protest as he scoops her up effortlessly.

She sighs inwardly, the small amount of peace she had found in the TV now gone. As he carries her to the bedroom, she can’t help but feel a wave of irritation. She has spent the entire day at his side, catering to his whims, and now even the few moments she has to herself are being taken away.

In the dimly lit bedroom, he sets her down gently on the bed and climbs in beside her, pulling her close. “Cuddle me,” he demands, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You will miss me when I’m gone on a mission tomorrow.”

Exhausted and frustrated, she lets out a small huff. “Satoru, I’ve been with you all day. Can’t I just have a little time to myself?”

His eyes flash with anger, and he grips her arm tightly. “Are you being ungrateful?” he spits. “I’m a good boyfriend. I’m strong, handsome, and I give you everything. And this is how you repay me? By asking for ‘alone time’?”

She can feel her temper rising, but the fear of his wrath keeps her silent. “I’m not ungrateful, Satoru. I just… need some space sometimes.”

He scoffs, his grip loosening slightly. “Space? You need space from me? After everything I do for you?”

Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she blinks them back, knowing that fighting back would only make things worse. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

He sighs, pulling her even closer. “Just close your eyes and sleep.”

Time goes by and without y/n realizing it, the sky has already darkened, signaling nighttime. She's laying on the lavish couch, rereading a novel that she's read twice before. The clock is ticking, and the longing she feels for Satoru grows stronger. As she's about to fall asleep, the clicking of the door lock jolts her awake. She immediately runs towards the door, wanting to welcome him home.

“Satoru, how was the mission? I've been waiting for you for days,” she says as she hugs him.

Satoru pries her away from him, earning a surprised and confused reaction from her. “I'm tired. Leave me alone.”

Y/n nods before making her way back to the couch and plopping onto it. She curls up into a ball and buries her face in her knees, finding comfort in her own embrace. Does Satoru not love her anymore? She doesn't think she can bear this situation any longer. Trapped in this apartment with nowhere to go, and worse, her captor himself doesn't care about her. The tears brimming in her eyes finally escape. Her body shudders as she pitifully sobs.

Suddenly, she feels a hand on her shoulder. “Princess, don't cry. I just wanted to test if you miss me.”

Y/n only cries harder. Satoru takes a seat beside her before lifting her body onto his lap, cradling her. “I didn't mean what I said just now. I would never feel tired of you.”

She clings onto him, though deep down she feels disgusted with herself for having to lean on Satoru to stay sane. He's the only human she can interact with. All her male friends are dead. As for her family and her close friends, she has to beg Satoru not to hurt them. She's sick of his twisted ways of loving her, but at one point she gives up and accepts her fate.

Satoru grins at the sight of her crying. He knows he has succeeded in making her depend on him, and him only.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Thirteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT [Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Ghost is getting careless, Ghost is sick and tired of the way you make him go off script, post murder sex spree [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+ [ani wears a vulvodynia tshirt, this song is so vader coded; enjoy]

DATE

1:27 am August 29th

After the initial shock of Ghost’s demands, you quickly realized he was serious in his request. He lunged at you, just to spook you into running because you’d stood frozen like a deer in the headlights.

If only you could’ve seen the absolutely feral grin on his face. His little doe had fawned.

You swung open the bedroom door and shut it behind you, instinctively holding onto the doorknob and using your body as a counterweight to keep the door shut while Ghost laughed and barely tugged at it. Each quick pull made you jolt forward and only proved further how scared you really should be, knowing he was pulling the door open with your full weight on it with just one arm.

If he was serious, really, truly, serious. You wouldn’t have a chance, he’d demolish you in minutes.

You made a decision and made it quickly that your best bet would be to run to the living room and loop around, back to the bedroom and lock him out. At least there was a window in there you could probably climb out of if you actually needed to. The bathroom would just be a death trap.

You hoped that if you let go just as he was opening the door he might stumble, so you tried exactly that. It didn’t work the way you planned, but it did give you a second or two advantage. Though he quickly made up the time after he recovered from pulling the door into his shoulder at full force.

“Ow.” He gritted through his teeth, flipping out the decorative butterfly knife in his right hand, rolling his shoulders back as his towering frame strode across the small living space toward you.

“Ghost what the hell are you doing?” You squealed, grabbing the nearest book to you on your shelf, a paperback romance novel, and chucked it at him.

“Oh no.” He gasped, knocking the book away from him, his gloved hand flying to the gaping maw of his mask. “You gave me a paper cut.”

He twirled his your knife and lunged forward to grab your arm.

“I just want to have some fun, don’t you?” He chuckled, watching you wiggle and squirm to get away from his firm one-handed grip. With a quick motion and a rip of fabric he sliced a hole in the side of Anakin’s t-shirt he’d made you wear.

“Oh my god! What- you could’ve cut me!” You screeched, smacking at his arm with your free hand.

“If I wanted to I would’ve.” He growled, letting go of your wrist and allowing you to stumble backwards.

“I don’t know what I did to make you mad but I’m sorry!” Your voice shook as you backed away from him, scrambling back toward the bookshelf.

“Doe, you didn’t make me angry.” He said, his filtered voice oddly soothing in comparison to the way he was aggressively closing in on you. “You made me hard.”

“And now I’m gonna fuck you like I should’ve out in that dirty alleyway.” He gritted out.

“You ruined it for me you know?” He grumbled kicking the paperback weapon from earlier out of his way.

“What?” You squeaked, “What do you mean? I thought-“

“Yeah, you thought.” He snarled, reaching forward to grab you by the front of your shirt. “That’s the problem.”

“I wanted-“ He huffed when you jolted away from him and grabbed a slightly heavier book off the shelf to hit him with. “Do it. See what happens.” He barked.

He produced a second knife from seemingly thin air, one second his left hand was empty and the next the silver flash of the blade caught your eye. You panicked, two sharpened blades in the hands of a madman did not bode well for your very near future. Choosing purely out of instinct you swung the book at him, hoping to hit him square in the face.

You were too slow, or maybe he was just too fast. Either way, the book connected with the knife in his left hand instead of hitting the mark you’d set out for. He snickered, seeing your frustration and surprise at having speared your own belonging on his blade, your expression quickly fading to a blank-pale faced shock.

His hand shot out in continuance of the fluid sideways stabbing motion. His knife, along with your book, sunk into the wall, getting pinned there until further notice. The drywall cracking from the force of the side of his fist driving in the blade as easily as a pushpin.

“Now, as I was saying,” he sighed, clapping the drywall dust from his leather gloves. He moved quickly to grab you by the hair and drag you to the couch. “You thought, and that ruined my fun.”

“I wanted to pin you down on the nasty pavement and fuck you hard like the useless cocksleeve that you are,” his teeth clenched tightly. “but no. You had to be you, didn’t even give me the chance to offer you a safe word.”

“You’re such a slut that you just let me do it with no fight.” He snorted. “You let me drag you down a dark alley and fuck you. You wanted it so bad you hardly questioned it at all.”

“If I wanted to fuck you nice and slow, if I wanted to give you a choice, real or not... I would’ve done it in that cozy little love nest.” He said angrily, turning your head in the direction of your bedroom and pointing with his rose handled blade.

“See, I’ve got this thing,” he grunted, stabbing his knife into the couch cushion and locking the handles in a fixed position so he use both hands. “you’ve probably heard of it.”

You wiggled and squirmed against his firm grip on your hair, each strand felt like it was ripping from your skull. You reached back and elbowed him in the ribs, making him take a sharp inhale.

“You stupid bitch.” He snapped, spinning you around and grabbing you right beneath your jaw. He squeezed tightly, lifting you up so that you were struggling to stand on your tiptoes.

“You gonna be mad if I smack you?” He asked, his voice low and gravely.

“Yes! What the fuck?” You coughed, your hands gripping his wrist in an effort to keep yourself from choking.

“Will you hate me though?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, a slightly more playful tone in his voice like he knew your answer.

You shook your head ‘no’, holding your breath while a fire lit in your lungs, your vision burning black around the edges. Finally he sat you flat on your feet, if you weren’t light headed before, you sure as hell were now. All the blood rushing back to where it belonged cause your body to momentarily malfunction.

Ghost kept you upright, letting you slump against him for a second before encasing the back of your neck in his firm leather grip, pulling you back far enough away from himself to deliver a rough *smack* to your cheek.

Your eyes flew open, suddenly more alert as he shocked your system back into working order. Plunging you back into dizziness when he threw you forward and bent you over the arm of the couch.

“Hey.” He said gruffly, crouching next to you and pushing your hair from your face. “I gave you a safe word.” He reminded you, “I’m not an ass. If you need to use it just say so, I’ll stop.”

“N-no.” You shook your head, your hands coming up to push your chest off the couch.

“No?” He chuckled. “Never thought I’d find me a girl who likes to get raped.”

“What!? I never said-“

“Nope, shut your fucking mouth.” He said quickly. Taking off his belt at cracking it over the backs of your thighs.

“Fuck!” You screamed, crying out into the couch cushions. “What was that for!?”

He snorted, whipping you with the hard and unforgiving leather again. A shiver running through him when you whimpered and squeezed your thighs together.

“I want you to fight me.” He leaned down, his gritty voice rumbling in his chest against his back. “I know you got it in you baby, you’re just as sick as I am. You’re just not ready to admit it yet.”

“No! No, I… that’s not something-“

“Before you embarrass yourself further,” he sighed, reaching beneath the boxers you wore, he ran his middle finger up your slit. “feel that?”

He was gloating, enjoying making you squirm uncomfortably from your own desires. Ghost wiped your arousal onto your cheek, leaving a slick trail in its wake that gave away how you really felt.

“My pretty pussy is telling on you Doe.” He chuckled. “Now be a good girl and tell me you got wet at the thought of me raping you on the couch you just fucked your boyfriend on. Tell me you wish you weren’t such a cockslut and desperate for dick so I could’ve raped you up against a fucking brick wall.”

“Ghost…” you whined, wiggling to get away from him, but his full body weight was pinning you in place. “Fine!”

“Fine, okay? Yes!” You grumbled, shooting him a glare over your shoulder as he stood up.

“There we go.” He chuckled, “It’s okay princess, I know you have trouble understanding big words.” He taunted.

“Listening, silence, obeying, submitting.” He cooed, looping his belt around your neck and tugging it like a leash. “Very big words for a very stupid whore.”

He took the knife from the couch cushion and brought the flat side of the cool steel to the burning blush of your cheek, lightly scraping the tip across the apple of your cheek and the delicate skin beneath your eye.

“Getting me a fresh kill of venison for dinner tonight baby.” He chuckled, you envisioned a devilish grin, full lips curved upward.

“Maybe you ought to bite down on this.” He said, smacking you with the tail end of the black leather belt before putting it in your mouth for you. “Hate for you to fuck up those pearly whites.”

He grabbed the collar of your shirt, stabbing the knife through the fabric and ripping a hole down the short sleeve. The blade never came close to your skin but the motion was so quick that you felt a rush of air following behind it that may as well have been just as sharp.

You reached back to smack at his hand, spitting out the leather to scowl and yell at him.

“What is your problem today!? I like this shirt!” You kicked at his shin, connecting your heel to the bone in his leg.

“Goddamnit!” He growled, yanking you up by your leash and holding the tip of the knife to the vulnerable flesh above your Adam’s apple.

“That’s better.” He moaned… he moaned. “Fuck, you feel me Doe?” He asked, pressing his cock of steel against your ass.

You answered with a choked ‘uh huh’, trying not to turn blue in the face from the thick leather necklace he’d given you. He removed the knife and dropped the leash, your hands immediately going to claw at it while you coughed.

“Don’t.” He barked, tugging your hair to get your attention.

“I’ll tell you my ‘problem’.” He growled, using his hands to rip the fabric further, exposing your left shoulder blade.

“My bitch.” He snapped, “fucked her boyfriend on this couch. Right in front of me.”

He brought the knife back down to the fabric and this time he allowed the tip to pierce the skin ever so slightly, letting a bead of blood bubble up on your smooth skin as you cried out in a sharp yelp. Lifting the knife he cut another hole in the shirt, repeating the process until it was less than a rag.

“I’m sorry okay?” You yelled, trying to turn yourself over onto your back, hoping that even if it was an awkward angle that maybe you could get a punch in. If he wanted you to fight, you sure as hell were going to.

“What am I supposed to do? Not fuck him?” You shouted, twisting in his grasp until you were able to push against his chest with one forearm.

“He loves you!” Ghost shouted back and you felt your face fall. “Do you- you love him?” He asked, changing the grip of the knife in his hand to prepare for downward strike.

“Wait! Wait- stop!” You squealed, kicking and squirming away from him.

“Ghost! Stop it. Please!” You whined, your voice getting high pitched and squeaky.

“Tell me.” He barked, dragging you down to the coffee table and forcing you down on it, he kneeled with one knee keeping you pinned there, his other foot firmly on the ground.

“No! I’m not-“ you shouted, thrashing around and landing a solid punch to his stomach. “I won’t tell you that!”

He groaned, the sensitive area of his abdomen felt a dull but consistent throbbing. No time to congratulate you on knocking the wind out of a grown man though, he had to get right back to business.

“You won’t?” He laughed, taking the knife and gliding the flat side over the tender flesh of your inner thigh, quickly jerking his wrist and leaving a thin line of red behind.

You swore you saw him physically shudder at the sight of your blood, you are certain however, that you saw him palm his cock.

“Why don’t you wanna tell me?” He asked, his tone sounding cheeky disguised as menacing.

Ghost ripped through the seam of the boxers you wore, pulling them off and exposing your his pussy for his eyes to feast on.

“It’s not your business!” You snapped back and immediately felt the punishment inflicted on your most sensitive area. His gloved hand smacking your pussy with a wet *clap* that drew a scream from deep within the depths of your chest.

“Like hell it is!” He yelled back, barely controlled rage was beginning to ooze from his eyes behind his mask.

“Do you love him?” He repeated, smacking your clit and sending a sharp jolt from your head to your toes while you gritted your teeth and dug your nails into your palms.

“Fucking whore.” He groaned, looking down at your quivering legs and dripping cunt as a new wave of arousal drenched your pussy.

“You don’t have to tell me you love this.” He grumbled, “I can see it.”

You felt something hard and cool circling your entrance, the temperature contrast causing you to gasp and Ghost took that as the perfect opportunity to slide the twin handles of his knife deep into your cunt. His leather glove encased the sharpness of the blade, but that didn’t stop the streak of pure fear that flooded your senses.

The panic was slowly replaced with a new kind of pleasure, one that was dull and curling. Tugging at the muscles encasing your most intimate organs, as if he were trying to ‘cut’ his way into your womb and stake his claim before Anakin could.

It was embarrassing the way you so quickly switched up your attitude. Formerly angry and mouthy, now your brain was too muddled to feel anything but submissive. Ghost was behind you, filming the filthy act with the flash on, acting as though he might suffer a heart attack before he could make you cum. His filming hand was shaky and his chest was heaving in an uneven rhythm.

“Fuck. You’re- I...” He breathed out, “Gods, what the fuck have you done to me?” He asked in a higher pitched voice that almost dropped out of the voice modification.

“C-can’t even stick to my own plans, y-you just…” he grunted, withdrawing the knife handles, watching your cunt clench around them as if trying to suck them back inside.

“Don’t you move, you hear me?” He barked, kneeing you in the side when you didn’t answer him.

“Ow! Fine!” You snapped back at him, trying to turn your head to look at him behind you when his foot came up and gently flexed forward to push your head back to the side.

“You wanna see what I’m doing?” He asked, not waiting for you to answer as he walked in from of where you laid, crouching down and resting his elbows on his knees lazily.

He pinched the knife by the blade between his forefinger, middle and thumb to waggle it in your face. He chuckled at your reaction to seeing your creamy juices coating the handles. He lifted the chin of his mask up slightly, still being careful not to show the slightest sliver of skin as he brought the handles to his lips and sucked them clean. His groan of approval came out distorted, not quite modified, not quite natural.

“Shit.” You whispered, resting your forehead on the cool wood of the coffee table.

“Alright.” He stood up. “Listen, listen good okay?”

You nodded, “Yes Sir.”

“That’s more like it.” He laughed, “Get your ass over there and bend over like I had you before.”

He pointed to the couch with one hand and absentmindedly twirled and flipped the knife in his other while he watched you do as he asked.

“I’m going to do what I want. For as long as I want.” He said plainly. “This isn’t about you. This is about me.”

“Do you understand?” He asked in a tight, clipped sentence.

“Yes Sir.”

“If you want to cum, do it yourself.” He grumbled, “better bite down on that belt baby.”

He stalked over to you and pushed his jeans down around his knees and pulled out his angry red tipped cock. Without hesitation, with no forethought, he plunged himself deep into your cunt and started off with a deep and hard pace. It might’ve been pleasurable had he not decided he’d try to fuck your guts.

He, nor had anyone else, ever pushed so deeply past your folds. Yes he’d kissed your cervix with his cockhead before, so had Anakin. But this? This was beyond that.

In his right hand he gripped your hair, using it as leverage while you futilely tried to stop yourself from jostling around so much by holding onto the backrest of the couch with one hand and the front end with the other.

It was quite useless in Ghost’s opinion, he laughed as he watched you struggle. Each thrust was so forceful that by the end of this brutal punishment you believed he’d have rearranged your living room furniture. The couch scraping across the floor inch by inch.

“Fuck.” He grunted. “I fucking needed this.” He breathed out, his upper body wracked with a shudder as he moaned loudly.

“Perfect little painslut.” Ghost gritted out, you imagined from the way the words left his lips he might need the belt between your teeth more than you did.

“I could fuck this hole- fuck it till it’s raw and sore and bleeding.” He groaned, “And even then, I wouldn’t be finished with you.”

“Shit-“ he gasped, leaning forward he put you in a headlock, his muscles constricted around your throat.

Ghost rested his forehead against the back of your head, looking down your curved back to see your ass rippling with each slap of skin on skin.

“Gonna fuck my cum so deep inside you,” Ghost’s hips stuttered. “so damn deep that stupid little pill will be useless.” He barked out the last part, the true aggression in his voice sent a shiver through you that made a cold sweat break out on the back of your neck.

“Hmph… oh damnit.” He shuddered, slowing down for just a moment to savor the high he felt from feeling your cunt milking him dry.

“You keep moaning like that and your boy across the hall will hear you.” He chuckled, releasing you from the headlock and pushing down on the small of your back to keep you in place, hearing the swish and click of him closing the rose handled knife, feeling it pressed against your hip bone as he held on.

“S-slow please.” You choked out while drooling down the belt between your teeth, feeling as though he might split you in half if he carried on this way.

“I told you to lay here and take it didn’t I?” He grunted, smacking your ass punishment.

“My pussy. My rules.” He barked.

“W-what?” You moaned out, trying to focus your mind on those words, rather than the way he sped up and stole your breath.

“Christ, you’re stupid.” he muttered to himself.

“Shut up, I don’t want to hear you speak unless it’s your safe word.” He growled, shoving your head down into the couch cushions.

Using quick shallow strokes he leaned back to change the angle slightly, making him choke out a half sob at the way your cunt gripped him. His hand left your hip again to flick out the knife blade and drag the cold steel down your spine. He stopped halfway and veered off to the left, digging the sharpened edge of the blade into the thin skin stretched over your ribs.

“Holy-“ you chomped down on the leather belt in your mouth so hard that it squeaked.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” He breathed out, for the first time quiet enough that his modifier didn’t catch it… and neither did you.

“You liked that didn’t you?” His chest rumbling as he spoke. “I felt you squeezing me.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he thinly smeared the blood in a line across your back with the flat side of the blade until he found a suitable spot for a slight nick that had you jolting in surprise.

“Nasty girl.” He chuckled, “you like being fucked dumb and sliced up?”

“Uh huh.” You whimpered, gripping the couch cushions while Ghost leaned back to watch his cock plunging hard and fast into your pussy.

Creamy white cum and your slick coated the base of his cock, he desperately tried to hold himself back from another orgasm but it was damn near impossible when you had just openly admitted to liking his blade on your skin.

Your right ass cheek seemed the best place to cut next, he wanted to feel the warmth of your life dripping from the wound and down his thigh. He wanted to stain his body red in hopes of forming a blood bond, could he convince you to try that?

A surprisingly throaty moan left your lips and tumbled out in a long release of breath, his blade carving a diagonal line that leaked deep ichor down your beautiful skin. The sight of it being smeared and splattered with each piston of his hips had him buckling at the knees.

“Oh my-“ Ghost moaned, his knife clattering to the floor as he grabbed both your hips, purposely spreading the gorgeous red liquid across your skin as he went. “Didn’t think you could get any prettier.” He whispered in a hoarse voice.

He tightened his grip and listened to the squelch and slap of his cock bullying your insides, to the sweet sounds leaving your lips. He basked in the warm drip of your blood and the feeling of your pussy wrapped lovingly around him.

It was all so much. Too much.

With a few more brutal thrusts he came hard, his breath being stolen from his lungs as he shot his load into your depths.

“Fuck yes.” He gritted out, needing some kind of extra outlet for the intense adrenaline and endorphin rush he was experiencing, he punched the wall beside him without a second thought, denting the dry wall and smearing blood. “Hell fuckin’ yes baby.”

“Ghost!” You gasped and flinched at the *crack* of his fist making contact with the wall, “Can you ju-“

“Face down and close your fucking eyes,” he growled, shoving his cock back in his pants and tugging his jeans up. He saw you begin to part your lips and he interrupted. “that wasn’t a question goddamnit!”

You obeyed, closing your eyes and pressing your face into the couch cushions, hearing rustling coming from behind you. Ghost tossed his mask on the coffee table and took off his sweatshirt and tshirt, scrunching the shirt to create a makeshift blindfold, there was no time to go to your room and get the nice pretty silk handkerchief he’d bought for this purpose exactly. He needed this now.

He slipped it over you head and tightened it, then you felt the weight of his body push down on the couch cushion beside you, his still-gloved hands grabbing you by the shoulders and manhandling you over to sit sideways in his lap.

“What are- oh my god.” You gasped quietly feeling his bare skin for the first time, leather gloves guided you out of what was left of your shirt.

“Gh-“ You wanted to know why. Why was he doing this? Why now? But he shut you up by pulling you flush against his chest and descending upon your mouth.

He kissed you like his life depended on it. He kissed you like death when he lifts your soul from your lips. Ghost kissed you like you were the one who was consuming him. It was messy, desperate, and horribly quiet. The only noises being that of your lips and tongue clashing together and the sound of your mixed heavy breathing.

He was maskless. He couldn’t speak, he didn’t even want to let loose a single moan. So you did, you made enough noise for the both of you. Breathless gasps and whiny ‘mhhhhmm’s pierced his skull and wormed their way into his brain to take up permanent residency.

He had a tongue piercing… unexpected but definitely not unwanted. The metallic clicking was hypnotic in a way, tongues dueling carelessly between the two of you, so eager to taste more, to feel more. You know now that the strange, smooth thing that had accompanied his tongue while he had licked at your folds to wake you up, was the same jewelry that ran across the roof of your mouth while you felt up every square inch of bare skin on his body.

You never imagined that flesh could be such a sexy thing. Of course, it’s nice to look at on the body of someone you’re attracted to. Though feeling the flesh of a man who’d deprived you of seeing it, touching it; it was better than any drug on the market. With your brain fuzzy and addled with repeating thoughts of Ghost, he only made it worse by bringing your hand down to feel his half hard cock.

He had explored you in endless ways, countless times and now he was finally giving you the opportunity to do just alittle bit of the same for him. It didn’t last long however. Soon enough he was back to the domineering presence you’d come to know.

Slower this time, more carefully, he laid you back down on your stomach on the couch. Ghost pulled both your palms up to your ears to encourage you to create a sound barrier between you and whatever it was that he was about to do.

His tender lips caressing your back in feathery kisses, gentle and loving in a way you’d never received from Ghost before. His lips then made their way to your still trickling wounds, licking up the blood around the nick mark, a simple and tiny cut that was easily cleaned up. The longer, deeper wound across your ribs prompted him to get down on his knees in front of the couch.

Ghost leaned forward and licked the length of the bloody split in your flesh. A deep, rumbling moan left his unashamed lips. He was so unashamed in fact, that he found himself instantly rock hard again.

That just wouldn’t do. This is about him after all.

So he pulled himself free once more and spit a mixture of your blood and his saliva into his glove, setting to work on his throbbing and greedy cock. As he pumped his shaft his lips sucked and pulled at the wounded skin on your side, draining it of blood only to pull back and watch the pretty red reappear.

“That stings!” you whined as you pushed his head away.

A puff of air from his nose was your only response before he swatted your hand away and returned it to your ear. He did listen though, choosing to gently lap it up until the flow stopped almost completely.

Languidly stroking himself he held his breath for a moment, afraid he might let out a whimper more embarrassing than he ever had before. He moved behind you once more and licked up the blood from the last cut he’d made. He lapped up the last trickles of blood from your soft skin and kneeled behind you. Tapping your hip he signaled you to arch your back and lift up so he could get a better view of your poor abused cunt.

The pink and puffy folds looked even more enticing as he spit a fat glob of your bloody mixture at your center.

“Can’t… Ghost please.” You whined, your body sore and aching from overuse. “No more, I can’t.”

There was no verbal answer. Ghost ignored your pleas and left them unpunished, repositioning himself at your sopping wet hole. He easily slid in, letting out a shaky breath at the feel of your heated gummy walls. Slowly he rocked his hips into you, gently as though he were trying to soothe you after all the rough treatment.

You let yourself relax and accept his tender touches and unspoken apology. You were shaking from exhaustion, your mind too blank to do anything other than breathe and feel the pleasure of his cock moving inside you. With your ears still covered Ghost took the opportunity to tell you something that he’d been terrified of doing.

“My little doe.” He whispered as quietly as he could, “It’s me. It’s Anakin.”

Diary Entry: August 29th

Honestly doll. I don’t know how you survived yesterday, if my dick hurts… I can only imagine how your poor little pussy feels.

You handled it so well. Taking inch after inch, over and over again for me. All. Damn. Day.

The best part? You loved every second of it just as much as I knew you would. You loved the rough way I fucked you as myself. The loving way I made you mine.

But the way you took Ghost… after tucking away that little piece of Anakin that lives in him, (the bit that won’t fucking stick to the goddamn plan because you’re so… there’s not even a word for it. You know what I mean though.) I got to do what I needed.

Damn I desperately needed it. Don’t get me wrong little doe, I love regular sex with you. You know, the normal kind of kinky. A bit of hair pulling, some spanking, a little spit, the baby steps to the bigger shit.

The kind of kinky last night is the kind of shit that would get me committed if my mother found out about it. But is it really my fault that you’re so fuckable? No. It’s not. It’s not my fault that your pussy just so happens to fit the handles of my knife. It’s not my fault that you liked it either.

You can’t even be mad, so don’t go pretending you are next time I see you as Ghost. You can’t be mad because you leaked that sweet pussy nectar down my cock for two hours and 13 minutes, last night. Never heard the safe word and I’m not convinced that I will ever hear it.

You freaky bitch.

If I wasn’t already as depraved as I am, I’d be a bit concerned. You really tried your best to fight me, you tried your best to listen, you put in the effort. But your tiny little brain can only handle so much cock before it turns to mush. That’s my favorite, when I feel you start to relax, feel your breath change, see those pretty eyes go hazy. My perfect sex doll.

I like it when you go limp.

You know what I really liked about last night? I could feel the exact moment that I pushed you past a ledge you’d never even seen coming on the horizons of your imagination. You started to *shake*. You were limp and shaking beneath me, so exhausted you couldn’t muster up the strength to hold yourself up anymore. So drained that you couldn’t even moan correctly anymore.

And you still let me keep fucking you.

I can officially say that I have fucked you awake, I have fucked you in your sleep and I have fucked you to sleep.

I joked about it as myself with you, made you take your meds early and everything, I held you in my arms and let you wean yourself off my fingers and fall into dreamland.

But Ghost was relentless in his efforts to make you go unconscious via dick. I decided I earned a little treat for that. I haven’t decided what it will be yet but I’ll make it good. How many men can say that they’ve lovingly fucked someone into unconsciousness?

Oh! Just me? Nice.

So, you know I love the way your pussy tastes, but let me tell you something I never thought would leave my lips. I found something that is almost a tie for first place.

You bleed so beautifully. It’s truly a spectacle to behold, the crimson just compliments your skin so well. Next time… I’m taking off my gloves. I need to feel it in my hands, that slippery warmth that gives you the radiant life you live. That’s the closest I’ll ever get to holding your soul.

The coppery sweetness was more delicious that the finest wine that money can buy. I don’t give a shit if it’s got notes of birchwood and bullshit. Nothing can compare.

I get it now, the whole thing with people thinking vampires are sexy. What could be hotter than draining the life flowing through the veins of the one you love? What could top that ego boost from the trust you placed in me when I put that blade against your skin? I held the key to your existence in that moment, you’d be gone if I had stuck the blade in and twisted it to unlock death’s door.

But let’s not even think of that, I’d die before I ever let you.

Let’s focus on how rude it is that our blood types are not the same. I would’ve signed myself up for phlebotomy schooling if we shared blood types. Give myself a weekly transfusion. Humane and more socially acceptable vampirism.

Oh well, I prefer to taste it anyway.

It’s like a savory type of chocolate. You know those molten lava cakes? That’s what it’s like to cut into you and have a bite.

P.s. It was so fucking cute how you reacted to my bare skin and kisses. I used to be the one on the verge of collapse at every slight touch, seems like we’ve switched places.

P.p.s. I will be replacing your book and fixing your walls. I’m not sure what came over me when I punched the wall, that was like very uncalled for. Oops.

DATE

August 29th

When you awoke after your night of… activities, you were sore and tired in a way you hadn’t ever been before. Like the will to stand on your own two feet had been forcibly taken from you. As much as you wanted to get up and be productive, the ache between your legs refused to allow you any relief from the discomfort you felt. You needed to go to the hardware store and find something to fix the walls before Anakin came over later.

It would be difficult enough to come up with a cover story for the cuts across your back, but impossible to give a reason for the cracked drywall and the knife blade shaped slit in the opposite side. Once you finally gathered up enough determination to brave the wobble of your knees you stood up and exited your bedroom.

Ghost was too busy chatting, flicking the end of Boogie’s tail while he waited for your coffee to brew, to notice you’d waddled out of your bed to go to the bathroom. You could barely make out the faint white of his mask in the dim, curtain-blocked, morning light of the kitchenette, out of instinct you flipped the light switch and screeched in surprise.

You’d truly thought you might’ve just imagined him standing there and were shocked to realize he was flesh and bone. A flash of pale skin and black ink disappeared behind the counter top and re-emerged covered in leather. He had taken off one of his gloves to give Boogie some good morning pet-pets.

“Sorry doe.” He said apologetically, “I didn’t mean to spook you.”

“What are you doing?” You asked, your hand still resting on the light switch.

“Having a philosophical meeting of the minds.” He said, tapping Boogie on top of her head.

You scowled, “Anakin will kill you if he comes here and sees you. He has a key you know.”

“He won’t kill me.” Ghost chuckled, “He’s got a key? Nifty, so do I!” He added sarcastically.

“You didn’t really answer my question. Why are you still here?” You asked, eyes searching the room for anything out of order.

“Mmm yeah, that’s not what you asked me.” He chuckled, pulling open your silverware drawer and grabbing a spoon. “I’m not still here. I came back.” He answered as he scooped an unhealthy amount of sugar into your hello kitty mug.

“Okay… but why?” You held your hand palm up in questioning.

“I have important business to attend to.” He shrugged, pouring your coffee for you and stirring it into the sugar.

You pursed your lips but didn’t argue back, your eyes flicked back down to his now covered hand and back up to his face before turning to finish your initial quest.

“Where ya going baby?” He asked, staying behind the counter with his hands in his pockets.

“I have to pee.” You mumbled.

“M’kay.” His filtered voice rumbled as he turned to stop the microwave from dinging to signal your brown sugar oatmeal was finished cooking.

He did not however catch your cinnamon swirl toast in time and the shrill noise the appliance made sent the cat scrambling off the counter and knocking a few miscellaneous items into the floor. He stooped down and picked them up, placing them back on the counter top.

After your food was ready he sat it at the bar for you to sit and eat at while he got to work on setting out the supplies he’d bought to fix the walls and clean the couch. He walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door with two knuckles.

“Hey, you have some gloves in there don’t you? Like for when you dye your hair?” He asked, having realized it would probably be difficult to spackle the walls in leather gloves.

“Yes?” You responded confusedly.

“Good, open the door.”

“What? No!” You scoffed, standing naked and preparing to hop in the shower.

“Doe just open the damn door.” He grumbled, listening to you rustle around behind the locked door.

“Here.” You huffed, opening it just a crack and thrusting your hand out to drop the gloves into his.

“Thanks. You should hurry, I made you breakfast.” He said in an oddly warm tone.

“You did?” You asked, opening the door just a bit more to look at him.

“Yeah. I know you well enough to know you planned on going straight to that couch and not moving until forced to.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “I also know you well enough that I called in sick for you today.”

You stared at him for a minute, he called your work for you? That means someone at your work must’ve heard his real voice right? A bubble of jealousy formed in your gut at the thought that one of your coworkers heard Ghost’s voice before you did.

“What?” He asked sharply.

“Nothing… thank you.” You shook your head, eyes wide as you contemplated calling the diner to ask if they recognized the voice.

You mulled it over while you were in the shower, weighed the pros and cons while dressing yourself in some lounge clothes, and thoroughly pondered it as you ate your breakfast and watched Ghost work.

It was comical to see him being so domestic, kind of like seeing a documentary about a wolf pup raised as a house pet. It could snap and destroy the house, destroy you at any moment. Just like Ghost.

But there he was, Fixing his mistake in the most calm and collected way possible. It was a soothing process to watch, score the damaged drywall with an exacto knife, break it off in a clean, straight line with a satisfying snap. Cut the mesh to cover the now smooth edged square of missing drywall, **zzzzrrip** the weirdly thin and fabric-y tape to hold it in place. Then came the best part, watching him patch it over with pink spackle, smooth it out as best he could then watch it turn from pink to greyish white as it dried.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” You asked, sipping your coffee and staring at his hands. The thin blue latex was almost stretched enough to make out the blob of the tattoo you’d caught sight of earlier.

“Summer job as a teenager.” He answer shortly, it’s not like he could give specifics. He’d spoken of his handyman work with his god-father to you before.

“So you don’t work in construction or something like currently?” You asked, trying to cross out a few ‘maybe’ identities of people tall enough and lean enough to fit Ghost’s build.

“No.” He snorted and looked over at you, his knowing smile might as well have been visible from the body language.

“Don’t give me that look.” You huffed, “I’m narrowing down my list.”

“I know you are.” He laughed. “That’s why it’s funny.”

“Well I know you don’t work in construction and you have a hand tattoo…” You crossed your arms and scrunched up your nose to accompany a sassy head bobble.

You’d caught his attention, he turned to fully face you, one arm across his chest and the other’s elbow resting on his fist as he held the putty knife covered in spackle away from his body.

“Hand tattoo?” He repeated in low accusatory way.

“Yeah, you have one.” You pointed toward the hand he held the putty knife in.

“What is it?” He asked, walking a few steps forward.

“I don’t know I just saw a blur of it earlier this morning.” You said, shifting uncomfortably in your chair.

He stood and stared, studying your expression and seeking the truth. After finding no evidence of deceit he nodded and turned back to resume his work on the wall. Every so often you caught him taking a peek over his shoulder at you, like he was suspicious after hearing you’d seen a part of him he hadn’t willingly shown you.

“Are you mad?” You asked anxiously, his whole demeanor had changed so quickly that it was a bit frightening and not in a good way.

“No.” The word was clipped and gruff as he cleaned up his tool and put the lid on the small bucket of spackle.

He walked back to the other wall and sanded the, now dry, patch until it was smooth enough to paint over and blend into the wall as if nothing had happened. You walked over and had planned to sit down on the couch but you realized it covered in some kind of weird clumpy power and damp to the touch.

“Gross, what is this?” You whipped your head around to ask Ghost.

“OxyClean and dish soap.”

“Why?”

“You bled all over the couch.” He responded, you hadn’t seen any blood spots, but there were definitely wet patches where he’d scrubbed the upholstery. He’d also… super glued the knife slash in the fabric back together, how very him of him.

“Okay but like why is it still on the couch?” You asked curiously.

“It needed to sit for longer.” He huffed like he was irritated with your questions.

“Oh, well I can finish it then.” You offered, hoping it might appease him.

“No, I started it. I will finish it.” He kept his words clipped, not hiding that he wasn’t interested in speaking to you right now.

“Okay then.” You snapped back at him, turning on your heel and stomping back to your bedroom and slamming the door shut.

The sharp noise startled Ghost and he whipped his head around instinctively. His jaw clenched tightly, upset with himself for being upset with himself. He didn’t mean to be an ass either, he just needed some time to accept that he’d fucked up and almost exposed his identity because he wanted to pet the fucking cat.

He groaned and turned back around, pounding lightly on his forehead of his mask with both fists in frustration. Bending down to pick up his cup but knocking it over and spilling what was left in it.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?“ he growled and gritted his teeth “damnit!”

Lucky for Ghost he wasn’t using a glass cup, no shattered mess to clean up. He instead was unlucky enough to be using a large metal, insulated tumbler, which made a very loud and reverberating *dtink* when he kicked it with his socked foot across the living room. Before the cup had the chance to land he had already picked up his foot and leaned one arm on the wall as he flexed his toes, it fucking hurt and his fist collided with the wall in anger, this time going straight through the drywall and into the wooden bracers behind it.

“Aw- fuck, goddamnit,” he pulled his fist from the wall and shook it out, grabbing his wrist and rolling his hand while flexing his fingers, “stupid son of a-“

“I need a cigarette.” He huffed, not bothering to put on shoes as he stalked over to the window and opened it, grabbing his bag on the way.

Diary Entry: August 30th

Sorry for putting three holes in the wall.

I’ll admit that was alittle bit much. But it’s all fixed now and in the past so let’s not dwell on it. We’ve got more important things to do! Like taking you to the movies for a little date night.

Some kind of comedy thing for girls. I’m expecting it to be like that one with Melissa McCarthy. It looks stupid as hell which is a good thing because it’ll be funny even if it’s not. I don’t really care what we watch, you just told me no romance cause it’s ‘cheesy’.

Which makes no sense because your whole bookshelf is a giant collection of random species bangin’ each other. I mean seriously, I cracked one open cause the cover looked pretty and the first thing I saw was ‘the muscular werewolf thrust his-‘

That’s as far as I got before I went blind from fear.

DATE

August 31st

Anakin whistled low and gave you a cheeky smirk that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Seeing you coming into your bedroom in just a towel, skin still damp from the shower. You popped your head up with a slight gasp of surprise, not realizing he’d come in while you were still in the bathroom.

“Sh-“ you grinned, realizing it was just him and shook your head at him. “You scared me!”

“Boo.” He snickered as he laid back in your bed with his arms resting behind his head, his legs crossed at the ankles.

“Ani, are we going casual or are we going fancy?” You asked, walking over to your closet and flicking through clothes.

You looked over your shoulder to get his opinion and had to do a double take, your cat walked across the bed and kneaded Anakin’s shirt before laying down on his chest. A flash of an image that you refused to see clearly tried to blend with the scene before you.

“Ah-Anakin?” You asked in a slightly louder voice. “Clothes?” You blinked a few times, trying to rid yourself of the lines forming between your eyebrows.

“Oh sorry doll, I got distracted.” He cleared his throat and tossed his phone aside. “Clothes? Whatever you want, you’re pretty in everything.”

“I’m wearing this.” He added gesturing to the ripped black jeans and a Vulvodynia tshirt. “And my TUKs for my tootsies.” He pointed toward the bedroom door where the lace up boots sat neatly against the wall.

“So how about this then?” You held up a shirt and a pair of pants on their hangers.

“I told you whatever you want babydoll.” He chuckled, “although if you really want my opinion I’ll give it to you.”

“I really do.” You nodded, jutting out your hip.

“Keep the shirt… grab that one real long skirt, the one with the open bit on the side.” He said, reaching down to trace a line up his calf to his knee. “Maybe those sandals with the thick bottoms.”

“A skirt?” You asked, making a face.

“Doll, you know I like it when you wear skirts and dresses.” He poked out his bottom lip in a pout. “You’re my girl, my pretty princess no matter what you wear… but you did ask for my opinion.” He tilted his head, toying with his lip ring and nodding toward your closet.

You got out the long black maxi skirt and paired it the shirt and shoes, walking over to the bedside. Anakin shooed off the cat and sat up to swing his lanky legs off the edge of the bed, he reached up to tuck your shirt into the high-hemmed waistband and then tugged it back out slightly to make it alittle loose.

“Damn. That’s my baby.” His voice low and gritty as he stood up to wrap his arms around your waist, his hands pressing you close to his chest to give you a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“C’mon sweet girl.” He patted your ass to get you moving, following behind you to slip into his boots.

“Wait, hold on.” You said, holding up a finger and jogging to your bathroom, re-emerging with a lint roller.

“Really?” He groaned and pulled the hem of his shirt to make the fabric taut.

“Yes really. When you wear all black and live with a cat you have to lint roll yourself Ani.” You rolled your eyes and aggressively rolled the sticky paper over his clothes.

“It’s a waste of paper, it’s bad for the environment.” He mumbled, turning around to let you get his back too.

“Your attitude is bad for my environment.” You muttered under your breath.

“What did you just say?” He snickered.

“You heard me.” You grinned, tossing the lint rolled back into the bathroom cabinet.

“Yes I did. I’m just a bit confused, when did we have children and why are you the father?” He snorted.

“Ha-ha, we’ve both made dad jokes. Let’s go.” With your hands on mid back you pushed him toward the door, making him laugh.

Waiting in line for popcorn with Anakin took much longer than you would’ve liked and he was beginning to get antsy. He stood behind you, his hands on your hips and his chin resting atop your head, clicking his teeth together to the tune of some song stuck in his head. His fingers drumming along as well, tapping across your hip bones.

“Oh thank fuck.” He sighed dramatically, stepping to the side of you and grabbing your drinks and popcorn.

“You act like we didn’t just eat like two hours ago.” You rolled your eyes and gave him a smile, watching him hold both drinks and the huge bucket of popcorn.

He bent his head down and ate a few pieces straight from the bucket, “That was two hours ago, this is now.” He swallowed and went right back in for another bite or two.

“You know I can carry something. So you can eat with your hands.” You laughed, passing by other theater rooms on the way to yours.

“No, I got it sweetheart.” He said softly, giving you a warm look. “I’m pretty good with my mouth anyway. Aren’t I baby?” He teased, licking the inside of his cheek while he watched your cheeks heat up.

“Shh!” You giggled and grabbed his upper arm, steering him into the correct theater room and up the steps to the top row. “Yes, you are.”

“Hands too?” He asked after putting your cups in the cup holders and helping you get settled. He lifted up the armrest between the two of you and snaked his arm behind you, scooting you closer and squeezing your ass.

“Hands too.” You whispered, the blush on your cheeks was red hot by now and you were thankful for the dark and sparse room.

“What about my c-“

“Perfect!” You said quickly, clapping your hand over his mouth while Anakin chortled behind your palm.

“Poor little princess?” He cooed, pinching your thigh and making you squirm. “Feeling all flustered? Out in public? Naughty thing.”

“Anakin Skywalker!” You whisper-shouted smacking at his hand that wandered from your ass to your upper thigh.

“Bet I could make you cum before the previews are over.” He leaned down, his lips brushing your earlobe.

“It’s okay babydoll, it’s just you and me up here.” His voice was soothing and much too convincing to ignore completely. Especially when he sat aside the popcorn in the next seat over and palmed his cock to adjust himself.

His hand gripped the back of your neck and tilted your head toward him, his lips meeting yours in a slow, sensual dance. He bunches up your skirt to your knees, picking up on leg and hooking it over his thigh to give him easier access.

“Need you to be quiet pretty girl, think you can do that f’me?” Anakin’s deep, sultry voice fanned over your jaw as he kissed the side of your neck.

“Mhm.” You nodded, keeping your mouth closed to avoid the moan you knew was going to follow his fingers slipping past your panties and running through the slick mess between your pussy lips.

“Keep that mouth open.” He whispered, smiling when you obeyed, dropping your jaw slightly “That’s a good girl.”

Anakin swirled his fingers around your entrance, twisting his wrist slowly as he gently pushed inside. Scissoring his fingers along the top wall, focusing the varied pressure on the spongey spot that took your breath away.

He smiled, tucking his head against your neck, tilting it to the side as he rocked his hand against you, “Grind on my hand princess, show me how nasty my angel can be.”

The heel of his palm was pressed firmly against your clit to help you get the friction you needed as his fingers worked their magic on your inner walls. Massaging wide circles as you bucked against his hand.

“Ani…” you whispered, grabbing his wrist and trying to move his hand away.

“Shh.” He silenced you with his lips on yours, his tongue laving away at yours. His soft, plump lips cradling yours in a moment of pure brain fog for you. He’d completely erased your knowledge of your surroundings, blacked your vision and muffled the sounds around you until all you could hear was his heartbeat as he put his hand over your mouth and tucked your head against his chest.

“Doing so good f’me,” he whispered into your hair, “you’re gonna cum when I tell you to okay?”

“You think you can handle that princess?” He asked, pressing his warm lips to your temple.

You nodded, tilting your head back to look up at his crystal blue eyes. He gave you a soft smile, kissed the tip of your nose and nudged your cheek so that you’d turn your head to the side. He licked the shell of your ear, nibbling along the curve of the cartilage down to your earlobe, his hot breath fanning over your flesh.

“I love you.” He whispered, telling you again and not expecting an answer, even though you gave him one nonverbally.

Your pussy squeezing his fingers tightly in response to the words, he wasn’t convinced that it could just be coincidence so he said it again, his voice gritty and low.

“I love you, my girl.” He kissed your jaw, his lips curving into a smile when he felt your pussy flutter again.

“Oh, I see.” He chuckled lowly, pulling back to see your eyes rolling back in your head. He shifted his hand over your mouth slightly and pinched your nose, cutting off your air supply completely.

You tried to suck in a deep breath out of surprise, getting choked on nothing as a result, your eyes opened in panic but you calmed slightly seeing the serene and loving look on Anakin’s face.

“Ready?” He asked, watching your face.

“Three.” He whispered, speeding up his ministrations, your hands clenching tightly, nails digging into your fists, your vision getting blurry.

“Two.” His thumb moving your clit and flicking over it rapidly, making you jump and whimper behind his hand.

“Shhh quiet.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head and breathing in your scent as your lungs began to burn.

“One.” His lips brushing across your ear have you cold chills down your back as you willed yourself to stay as silent as possible while Anakin cradled your head to his chest, he released your nose to let you breathe. The rush of lightheadedness made you cum even harder, curling yourself up against him and trapping his hand between your thighs.

You stayed like that for a moment, catching your bearings and recalibrating your senses. After he released your mouth you did the same for his hand, but kept your legs draped over him for the comfort of having him hold you. He sucked his fingers clean and wiped them off on his jeans, picking up his drink and taking a long sip of blue slushee just as the title card of the movie flashed on screen.

“See, told you.” He said casually, his other arm around your waist, rubbing your side languidly.

——————————————————————————

“You look so sleepy.” Anakin laughed, petting your hair as he walked with you up the stairs in your apartment building.

“I am so sleepy!” You pouted.

“Oh poor wee baby.” He cooed, pinching your sides and picking you up to lug you over his shoulder down the hall to your apartment.

“It’s only 9:00pm.” He said, unlocking your door and setting you down in the entryway. “You ready for bed?”

“Yes, extremely.” You nodded, shuffling toward your bathroom to take off your makeup and brush your hair.

“Well shit baby, did I really mess you up that bad?” He asked, following behind you with a guilty look on his face.

It was your turn to feel guilty now. You can’t tell him the truth can you? The lies and omissions were beginning to affect you in ways you hadn’t expected. You were beginning to see things that simply couldn’t be reality, making making connections by snipping threads and tying the ends in an order that forced things to make sense.

You felt your palms begin to sweat and couldn’t meet his pretty blue eyes as you lied to the man who loves you.

“Mhm.” You nodded, your eyes flickering to his brow bone to give the illusion you were gazing into his eyes just as adoringly as he was looking into yours. “You’ve been wearing me out Ani.”

“In a good way? Have I hurt you?” He asked, cupping your cheeks up with his soft, careful hands.

Did you even deserve those soft touches?

“Oh, no Ani you didn’t hurt me.” You shook your head quickly.

‘At least that wasn’t a lie.’

“Okay princess… do you need me to get you anything?” Anakin took the washcloth from your hands and finished wiping the black streaks from under your eyes, grabbing the brush and running it through your hair. The bristles scratching your scalp just the way you like it.

“No, just you.” Your quiet voice floated up to him, he watched your lips moving in the mirror and it was clear to him that something had severely dulled your mood.

“Alright, let’s put you to bed then sweetheart.” He set aside your brush, kissing the top of your head and steering you toward the bedroom.

Anakin squeezed your shoulder and turned away to retrieve a pair of pajamas, a matching set you’d put on and took right back off just a few days ago. The sight of it nearly caused you to burst into tears, it was just fabric, nothing more that soft threads and stitching. Though seeing it in his hands made you feel sick to your stomach.

He handed them to you with a soft smile, slipping from his jeans and out of his shirt until he was left in just his boxers. He flung back the covers and snuggled down under the blankets on your side of the bed.

“What are you doing?” You asked, the corner of your lip twitching into a smile.

“A certain little lady hates cold sheets, so I’m making ‘em warm.” He said as he pulled the covers over his head with a contented ‘mmm’.

He was sweet, too sweet for you. Too kind, too thoughtful, too good. You were right about him in the beginning, he is too good to be true, though it’s no fault of his own. It’s you who is to be blamed.

With the lights switched off and the bedroom door shut, you magnetized yourself to Anakin after he had rolled into his spot and pulled you to his chest. His warmth seeping through your flesh as a balm for the wounded soul that wallowed in the center of your chest.

Diary Entry: August 31st

Have I let this go on for too long?

I feel like I’ve pushed us past the point of no return, your stress around me, my myself… it’s tangible. Like you’re worried you’ll say or do the wrong thing. I never intended for that. I didn’t intend for this to go on as long as it has at all.

I should’ve banished Ghost to The Pit after you’d accepted me into your life. I should’ve hung up the mask and retired my persona. I’ve always had trouble knowing when enough is enough, when to stop. It’s a difficulty that I’ve yet to overcome and probably never will.

It’s confusing for me, I can only imagine how confusing it is for you. You’re in the middle of it all, you are the center of my world, the sun in my star system. And because you are my everything, I will do anything to keep it that way. To keep you.

DATE

September 2nd

Anakin paced the living room of his apartment, his thoughts traveling faster than a bullet train with a nitro boost. You would be arriving any minute now, you called your sister, you called Luke, but you texted him.

Yes he could hear your calls, but that only gave him half the information he needed. Information you were on your way to share with him.

Anakin was disappointed in himself. He should’ve bugged your backpack long ago, you take it almost everywhere. He could’ve caught the conversation you shared with your sister over lunch the day before. He would’ve been prepared for news, he would’ve had time to plan and time to practice.

What other conversations had he missed out on? Who else have you spoken to?

He was so caught up in his pondering and pacing that he failed to notice your appearance at the bottom of the stairwell, showcased on his laptop.

“Shit.” He muttered, palms tingling before beginning to sweat as he heard the doorknob click and turn. Anakin rushed to the coffee table and shut his laptop quickly, just as you entered the room.

You glanced toward his hand on the sleek metal and up to his face, a blank expression met you where there would usually be a wide goofy grin. You started to say something but stopped short when your phone buzzed, glancing down at it as you lifted the screen upward a *ping* sounded on Anakin’s laptop.

You watched as he picked it up and opened it to view the screen, he sat down heavily on the couch and started typing, looking up at you and beckoning you over with and wave of his hand.

“Sit with me sweetheart, s’just mom.” He rolled his eyes, tapping away at his keyboard replying to a non-existent message from Shmi.

He shut it down and sat it aside again, opening up his arms to let you lay against his chest. Giving you a light squeeze as you settled down, running his hands down your back.

“So, this weekend me, my sister and Luke are going out to the lake.” You started, putting one hand on his chest and resting your chin there.

“Oh?” His eyebrows raised, the lower half of his face remained unchanged.

“Yeah! We do it almost every year.” You smiled, “we get a cabin for a weekend and well usually Luke’s sister comes too but you know she just had the baby not too long ago so she’s not too keen on leaving just yet.”

“Sounds like fun doll.” He nodded, “Are you excited?”

“I am…” your smile faded slightly, noticing something about his tone wasn’t quite right.

“That’s good sweetheart, I bet you’ll have a great trip.” He pushed your hair behind your ear and put his palm on the back of your head to flex his fingers and gently scratch your scalp. “No skimpy little swimsuit, this bangin’ body is for me.” He teased, lightly kneading your ass.

You wanted to smile and giggle, to chide him for his comment but it didn’t feel right. His internal light seemed dimmer, a flickering bulb before it burns out with a *pop*.

“Is everything okay?” You whispered, feeling like if you spoke to loudly you might startle him.

“Huh? Oh yeah princess.” He nodded, giving you a little smile. “Sorry, I’m just feeling a little bit too in my head today.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him, watching his face shift for just a split second into something you didn’t quite recognize.

“Ah well it’s nothing really.” He shook his head, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“No, there’s something wrong I can tell.” You pressed on, a twist in you guts telling you the worst scenario had come to fruition.

“Just- it’s fine okay?” He answered in a curt, snippy tone.

“Ani…” you reached up and played with his lip piercings, tracing them in a feather light touch that he found soothing.

“I’m irritated.” He scowled, picking up a hand from your back and running it through his hair. You opened your mouth to speak and he shushed you quickly.

“You wanted me to talk, I’m talking.” His voice sharp. “I don’t like that you didn’t discuss this with me beforehand. You’re going somewhere without me, somewhere I’ve never been. How am I supposed to know you’ll be safe?”

“This should’ve been a topic of discussion. You should’ve spoke to me before agreeing to it.”

“I go on this trip every year, it’s perfectly safe. It’s very calm, there’s not many people. I’ll be just fine Anakin.” You sighed, not particularly enthused about his attitude.

“I feel purposely left out. I like to be included in decision making when it comes to you, I don’t think you’d be very happy if I decided to go on a weekend trip without telling you until after I had decided I was going.” His voice raising slightly, his heart beat quickening beneath your palm.

“I wouldn’t have told you no.” He scowled, “but now I want to.”

“Anakin.” You furrowed your eyebrows, “I… I should have talked to you. You’re right, I would be upset if you decided to go somewhere with talking to me first.”

“But I don’t think it’s fair for you to tell me I can’t go.” You added, pushing off his chest.

“I’m not telling you that you can’t go.” His voice low and annoyed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t want to argue before I leave Ani.” You sighed, feeling him recoil after you said ‘leave’.

“Then we won’t argue.” He huffed. “Look at me.” Anakin said, grabbing your chin as you turned away. “You will call me when you get there. You will call me before bed. You will respond to me when I text you. Understood?”

“I’m sorry Anakin I shouldn’t have-“

“Do you understand me?” He asked again, shaking your chin lightly.

“Yes.” You nodded, looking down at your hands in your lap and feeling a sense of guilt.

“Good girl.” He grunted, “Here.” He pulled you back down to his chest, rubbing your back and cradling your head, rocking you in a slow side to side motion.

“I’m not mad.” He whispered into your hair, his cheek pressed against the crown of your head. “I’m worried. I just worry about you sweetheart, I’m sorry if I sounded harsh.”

“N-no.” You shook your head. “No you were right Ani. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“Always such a good girl.” His voice cracking as his pressed his lips firmly to the top of your head. “Don’t worry bout it baby, I’m not upset with you.”

——————————————————————————

Anakin slammed the trunk of your car shut and pushed down for good measure, turning around and dusting off his hands, he leaned back on your car. Giving you a smile he pulled you in for a hug, wrapping you in his arms tightly.

“You be careful pretty girl.” He mumbled against your forehead before nuzzling into your neck.

“I will, I’ll call as soon as I get there I promise.” You said, nodding your head to solidify your words. “I’ll text and let you know when I’ve picked up Luke.”

“Alright sweetheart.” He smiled, “I hope you have a really good time. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too Ani.” You looked away, knowing what was coming next. Anakin cupped your cheek to make you meet his gaze.

“I love you.” His pupils dilated into big black saucers as he stared into your own. Those pretty eyes he adored so much, the eyes that told him what you wouldn’t say out loud.

You put your arms up around his neck, and tip toed to capture his lips in a soft, lax lipped kiss. One meant to be short and sweet, though with Anakin it’s almost impossible to achieve such a thing. He dominated your mouth in a heated kiss, his tongue curling to brush over yours while he hummed in satisfaction.

You slid one hand down his chest to pull back before you both got carried away in the parking lot of your apartment building. Anakin chased your lips with his, earning a giggle from you and plastering a smirk on his face.

“One more princess.” He mumbled, leaning forward to kiss your jaw. “Please? Gotta make you miss me.”

“I’m already gonna miss you.” You laughed, “don’t make it even worse!”

“I need it to be worse.” He grinned. “A whole weekend without you? I need you wet when you walk in the door.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, your cheeks heating up.

“Well it’d be real rude of me not to get my girl wet before I make sweet love to her wouldn’t it?” He spoke against your neck, squeezing your ass hard.

“Mhm. It would.”

“I’m impatient, I want you just as needy as me when you get home.” He nipped says your neck, pressing his bulge against your hip, making you gasp.

“Ani that’s not fair.” You pushed his head away, trying to squirm out of his grip as he peppered your flesh with his lips.

“Mm. Don’t talk to me about what’s fair.” He grumbled. “Why don’t you just let me have a taste huh, princess?”

“I’m gonna be late!” You squealed as he picked you up and sat you down on the trunk of your car, grinding himself against your clothed cunt.

“You think I give a shit?” He asked, his hands sliding under your shirt and lightly exploring your abdomen, his tongue running along your collarbone.

“Anakin wait there’s-“

Before you could finish speaking a horn blared loudly as a car drove by slowly in the parking lot, the driver scowling with their hands thrown up. Anakin jumped and whipped around quickly to flip the driver a double bird.

“Ani!” You smacked at his shoulder but couldn’t help laughing when he turned around with a goofy grin on his face.

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THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

[tsaomengde]

The Villeneuve Dune(s) can be broadly interpreted as one of the two possible futures Paul sees in the original novel

Spoilers below for Dune Part Two. (And for the original novel, but that's been out since the 60s.)

He had seen two main branchings along the way ahead--in one he confronted an evil old Baron and said: "Hello, Grandfather." The thought of that path and what lay along it sickened him.

The other path held long patches of grey obscurity except for peaks of violence. He had seen a warrior religion there, a fire spreading across the universe with the Atreides green and black banner waving at the head of fanatic legions drunk on spice liquor. Gurney Halleck and a few others of his father's men--a pitiful few--were among them, all marked by the hawk symbol from the shrine of his father's skull.

"I can't go that way," he muttered. "That's what the old witches of your schools really want."

Obviously the Doylist explanation for why there are differences in the new films is that the original book is 60+ years old and has certain elements no longer in cultural vogue that were adapted out or altered to better fit modern sensibilities, and I'm all for that. But I did find it interesting that there is an explicit moment at the end of Part 2 where Paul confronts the Baron, utters the "Hello, Grandfather," line, and kills him.

This isn't necessarily because there is any one choice that Paul makes throughout the course of the two movies that leads here instead of to the jihad. In point of fact, most of the changes that drive him here are caused by choices made in the adaptations of the films.

The causal chain that leads to Paul undertaking the spice agony is his failure to predict the attack on Sietch Tabr, rather than his failure to predict Gurney's attack on Jessica; this is, of course, necessitated by the omission of the Harkonnen scheme in part 1 to impair Thufir's Mentat efficiency and potentially drive a wedge between Leto and Jessica by framing Jessica as the traitor. The final push that causes him to make the decision is, of course, the vision he experiences of an alternate future in which he didn't have to kill Jamis, with Jamis counseling him to climb as high as possible before the hunt so he can see as far as possible. (In other words, he ignores Stilgar's advice of not listening to the djinn.)

Similarly, his killing of the Baron is necessitated by the adaptational choice to keep Alia as a fetus so the audience doesn't have to deal with a two-year-old talking like an adult and killing the Baron, which they probably did because it would have been distracting.

However, I might argue that a Watsonian explanation for the film omitting the two-year time-jump lies specifically with Paul's decision to explicitly disavow the prophecy when Jessica undergoes the spice agony, and to explain to the Fremen that her survival is because of her Bene Gesserit training. He then attempts to secure his position with the Fremen through secular deeds, rather than letting Jessica carve a place for them with the BG prophesy.

This disagreement between the two of them causes her in turn to take a more active approach in cultivating Paul's status as Lisan al-Gaib, which accelerates the timeline of the Fremen being ready to submit to him. In turn, Paul focusing more strongly on guerrilla war against the Harkonnens accelerates the timeline of Feyd-Rautha being put in charge of Arrakis and cracking down hard in the north, leading to the aforementioned crisis point of Sietch Tabr being attacked without Paul's foreknowledge.

Notably, while we do see the shrine of Leto's skull in the film, we only see it in a vision; there is no moment in the movie where Paul explicitly finds his father's remains and enshrines them. Hence, going from a strict interpretation of the film's "text," this is not the future in which the legions are marked by the shrine, because the shrine doesn't exist. It is the other future. The compression of time means that Paul and Chani's relationship is much newer and more fragile and doesn't survive the strain of his apotheosis, and that's what sickens him most.

Of course, the "Hello, Grandfather" path also leads to the jihad, because Paul's tragedy is that his very existence was always going to lead to it, regardless of what he chose to do.

And Paul saw how futile were any efforts of his to change any smallest bit of this. He had thought to oppose the jihad within himself, but the jihad would be. His legions would rage out from Arrakis even without him. They needed only the legend he already had become. He had shown them the way, given them mastery even over the Guild which must have the spice to exist.

Obviously none of this passes explicit, close scrutiny, and is more of a fun "if you squint and look at it a certain way it kind of makes sense." I expect that the line was put in as a nod to the original book, no more or less, but making up head-canons like this is fun for me and if even one other person finds it edifying then I consider sharing it time well spent!

[tossawary]

Honestly, I don't think the Ents were scary enough in the LOTR Jackson films when they attacked Isengard. Like, it's great! It is great! It was amazing to see the first time; the effects are incredible for their time and they still hold up pretty well! I don't need to be told that they had various animation limitations. (More size variation in the Ents could have been nice. They could have been even bigger. But animation limitations and time constraints and such, I know!)

It's just that a lot of the camera shots were looking down on the battle (they're using bigatures and such, I know), so the Ents looked tiny, stomping on tinier orcs, or the camera is sitting with Merry and Pippin on Treebeard's shoulders, and that angle doesn't really get across how HUGE and NON-HUMAN trees are. I think the best shots in this battle sequence are the ones from the perspective of the orcs, where it's just utter chaos, and then some walking tree appears out of nowhere and it's ANGRY WITH YOU. Ideally, I think it would have been great if the storyboarding had leaned more into that bewildered and terrified human perspective more, getting more into the dirt of things, before then zooming out for the overview of the Ents overtaking Isengard for the end of the sequence. The boarding in the film does a lot of jumping in and out in regards to size and what's happening.

Like, have you ever been next to a massive tree in a windstorm? The sort that looms over the roofs of houses? When the whole tree starts swaying in the wind, hundreds of branches twisting like some kind of tentacled beast? And the rustling starts to sound like a dull roar? And you think to yourself, "Oh, if that tall tree ever goes down, it is taking that entire house down with it, cracking open the roof and bashing down the walls. It would smash that car flat. It would crush me easily and I don't even know how I would begin to get out of its way as it falls, because its branches and leaves would just swallow me."

And if you're ever in a heavily wooded area during a windstorm, it's even worse, because the old trees all around you are bending and shaking like they're about to pull up their roots and start walking. Like, you didn't forget that they're alive, did you? And it's beautiful, of course, but it's also dangerous. It looks like they're dancing in their own way, but the amount of wood being thrown around means that one good branch breaking could seriously hurt someone. And it's just a branch to the tree, the tree might be fine, it might just grow another, but that branch could easily be longer and heavier than a person.

It is cool to see all of the other Ents coming out of the woods to back Treebeard up and then go marching forward. But it does raise the question of "Wait, how did the other Ents get there so fast? Aren't they kind of slow?" (If there is lore explaining this, general movie audiences will not know it.) So, it would be fun if Treebeard made his call and the dramatic speech, all alone, and then we could cut away, so we have the plausible deniability of a time skip. There's also the tension of: "Oh, no, is Treebeard going to attack Isengard alone?"

And THEN we could pick back up with orcs on the walls of Isengard, boredly watching the industry below, before the ground starts shaking and the stone beneath their feet cracks. And a huge shadow looms over the wall as a MASSIVE TREE climbs over, basically falling over, and letting its sheer weight take down everything in its path. Followed by dozens more of these creatures. Making the machinery of Isengard look and all the orcs within feel very, VERY small.

If Ents are ever depicted again in any visual adaptation, even an illustrated version of the novel or a graphic novel, I feel like it should be a goal to really capture that feeling of being small and mortal by comparison. Some of the earlier interactions with Merry and Pippin and Treebeard get this feeling well enough. The LOTR films are over and done, obviously, and they did pretty well. But it could be better! I want to LEAN into those moments of smallness just a little more in future adaptations of Middle Earth. I would love to keep the camera LOW as much as possible and utilize advancements like more detailed models and better leaf animation. (Like hair, leaves are hard!)

We are not the Ents here. We are just witnessing them. You have to go out into a forest and ask yourself, "What WOULD it be like if trees walked around me?"

[evilminji]

Okay, But, >.> Listen...

So MAYBE, just MAYBE, I am an incureable RoFan Isekai nerd. Shut up about it, maybe. What're you a cop? Mind your business. BUT! And hear me out...

W...What would actually? HAPPEN if Danny went into a Visual Novel? Some Otome game? You know, aside from being vague flustered by and then DEEPLY ALARMED by these walking Red Flag Fruitloops that girls are supposed to find "dreamy" or something?

Like we know how MMOs work for him. And probably OTHER open world games? But a visual novel? Would it be like the Christmas Episode? Would he hear narration? Be stuck in static "scenes"? Or would it be like a cut together "only the interesting parts" movie that he's somehow IN?

Like?? At SOME point his curiosity is gonna get the best of him. He's gonna want to know what different video games are LIKE on the inside? What's Pong like? Tetris? Mario? One of those Mama's cooking games? Etc etc.

He probably hits up a game sale. Buys a box or two. Figures he can always resell um or just give them away for free. Might even use them for parts. Who knows. And?

It's kinda cool!

It's even SCIENCE! See? Tucker's in charge of notes. Sam's in charge of hilarious commentary and pizza. Jazz is keeping them from drinking and doing ghost shit (terrible combination, we never speak of What Happened(tm) again). And the Dr's. Fenton got distracted by making fudge and debating what games should be counted towards which categories.

They've made an afternoon of it.

And NOW? They've reached the bottom of box one. It was "Survive The Villainess! My Rose for You!" Or... judging by Sam's climbing eyebrows and growing scowl? A DEEPLY unpleasant porn game about school girls.

You could not PAY him enough.

Yeah, he DOES realistically kinda want to know what happens.. if.. like? You know... sexy games... like would he? Or does he just WATCH or...? *awkward cough* But! That's NOT for Family Science Night! And DEFINITELY not THAT game, THANKS.

He'll find himself an ETHICALLY SOURCED smutty game full of consensual boning. For PRIVATE TIME. Those test results are gonna show up like MAGIC and we WILL NOT be talking about them! Got it? Good.

Now what the fuck is he look at here?

Jazz is surprisingly knowledgeable. They are not allowed to ask. They respect it. The main character "wakes up" inside the body of a "villainess" and must survive. Turn her terrible reputation around. Avoid "death flags". Preferably romance one of the hot guys?

Uuuuuuuh... you realize Danny's in a committed relationship, right?

Sam and Turker allow it. But they reserve the right to blast his taste in Fantasy Guy's. Chose carefully, for their roasting shall be BRUTAL. Luuuuuv yoooou~♡

He wants a divorce. They're not even MARRIED and he wants a divorce. You see how they mock him, Jazz? The cruelty he suffers? He's taking the Blobs and moving to Frightknight's. They always warned him about you living folks and your fast ways, but he didn't listen! *continued dramatics* *is smacked with a pillow*

But actually going IN? The weirdly, vaguely European over the top EVERYTHING? Giant jewels and ridiculous, fancy dresses? The walking red flag Romantic Archtype Leads? He wants to PUNCH half these guys! This is ABUSE! Are people OKAY!?

Like? I feel like he'd stay way, WAY longer then he needed too? Just out of morbid curiosity? W-where is this plot GOING? It's so dramatic. Why is my dress MORE dramatic now? Why is everything so... Sparkly.

It would be? AMAZING and baffling and I would pay real money to hear their live commentary. "Why not simply judo flip the crown prince off the balcony, then take over the country, sweetie?" "Solid plan, honey! He deserves it!" Beautiful. Flawless. Sage advice really. Too bad Danny can barely walk in his five million bows dress.

It's the BEST Au and I might be a genius. Or deeply sleep deprived. Meh. We'll 50/50 it, six of one, half a dozen of another.

@hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[gffa]

Okay, so it was a month since my last BATFAMILY fic recs set, but in my defense a) huge life changes and b) I did a quick count up of how many recs I had built up and it was literally well over a million words. A million words! In one recs set! And this is like the seventh one of these that I've done! And I still have at least a thousand fics on my reader that I haven't started! Because this fandom has seriously not just consumed my brain, but given me absolutely amazing stuff to read that scratches all the itches I desperately have--well, okay, scratches the itch I have for my Dick Grayson Problem, but same thing.

I've really needed some escapism lately and being able to laugh or cry or just sink into a nice, long novella or even novel-length fic has really been a godsend has done a lot to soothe me and help me process feelings that sometimes otherwise can feel too overwhelming to deal with. All while also giving me the exploration of issues or decompression time with the characters' issues that the canon itself doesn't have the space for. So, I hope this list can give others something to read in the way it has given me so much that I've loved and brought me joy or emotional catharsis, because fandom has been really incredible about Bringing The Good Stuff and I want to repay the favor!

BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ The Halfway Point by Sugarcookie222, dick & bruce & alfred & clark, 5k     After a miscommunication with Bruce, a 13-year-old Dick runs away. He makes it as far as a diner in a nearby state. Bruce had left to finalize the adoption papers but clearly needs to work on his communication skills. He calls Superman in a panic to help him find Dick.

✦ be safe, they said (be good) by deargalileo, bruce & dick & alfred, 4k     there's a tree in the wayne's backyard. a very specific tree, one that seems to attract daring children like bees to honey. unfortunately for the children, it is not a tree that is suited for climbing. fortunately for the children, they have fathers who are there to stitch them up.

✦ a haunted ballroom by lothIoriens, bruce & dick & alfred, 11.9k wip     When Dick stumbles across the ghosts of Wayne Manor dancing the night away in an abandoned wing of the house, he thinks that, finally, something might be normal again. But the ghosts are nervous, and he doesn't know why. Something is brewing underneath the surface of Wayne Manor, and it's up to Dick to find out what it is—and it's up to Bruce to make sure nothing happens to his charge in the meantime.

✦ Straight On Til Morning by audreycritter, bruce & dick, 1.2k     Bruce wakes Dick up on a school night to show him the sky. It dredges up memories for Dick, and it would be a disaster, except it’s Bruce. And Bruce understands.

✦ (More) Pressing Matters by Syl, bruce & dick, 39.2k     Dick Grayson arrives at Wayne Manor, a cold empty place, shortly after his parents' murder: A re-telling of the Boy Wonder's well-known origin story.

✦ First Action Hero by Goldmonger, bruce & dick & clark & cast, 3.5k     “Jerkwads,” Dick said darkly, taking Clark’s hand. He looked up at him then, dressed smartly in a black suit and tie, and wearing converses with Sonic the Hedgehog on them. “You okay, Uncle Clark?”

✦ Lil Birdy Wants to Fly by lil_taair, bruce & dick, 3.8k     Bruce would have usually appreciated the cheeky smile that was directed at him if his son wasn’t 25 fucking feet off the ground

✦ World's Finest: Fortress of Friendship by WingFeathers, bruce & dick & clark & diana, 6.9k     Finally, Dick talks Bruce into letting him see the Fortress of Solitude – provided that Dick stay safe and out of the way while the Trinity discusses some Secret Important Business about a certain young Amazon. Clark promises that the Fortress will be safe, but is that a promise he can make?

✦ Stolen Son by springfox (dallystrings), bruce & dick & jim, 8.6k     Dick is excited to visit an American mall for the first time, and Bruce struggles to understand the difference between 'guardian' and 'dad'.

✦ Comfort Food by motleyfam, bruce & dick, ~1k     Dick struggles to find his appetite in the aftermath of his parents’ deaths.

✦ The meaning of justice by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick & babs & cast, 4.6k     As Bruce drives toward Gotham Academy, he tries to imagine all the possible reasons for the principal to call him. He has a lot of imagination. Especially when it comes to bad things happening to Dick. Still, his ward being a suspect for attempted murder hadn’t been on his list.

✦ The Question Game by Santana2, dick & bruce, 1.3k     Basketball can be a very enlightening game if you play it right. Little expansion on Robin's part in Downtime

✦ Cat's Eat Birds by Nightwing_DC_2112, dick & bruce & selina & cast, 12k     After a run in with the Scarecrow Robin is separated from Batman fighting off the effects of Crane's Fear Toxin when an unlikely ally steps in to prevent him getting into further trouble.

✦ World's Finest Mini Issue: Happy Birthday by WingFeathers, bruce & dick (& minor clark/bruce & alfred), 1.8k     Bruce hoped for an emergency to get him out of his birthday party. He just didn’t want Dick to be the one in need of help. BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Truth Serum is the Worst by JackHawksmoor, dick & bruce, 3.1k     Batman gets dosed with a truth serum and unexpectedly spends most of the time talking about how desperately he loves his children, how awesome they are, and how he wishes he was better at being a father.

✦ Holy Time Travel Fuckery, Batmen by That_One_Curly_Haired_Fangirl, dick & bruce, 4.4k     Batman is dead, and Dick has reluctantly taken up the mantle. So then why are there four Batmen, all clearly Bruce, standing in front of him on this rooftop?

✦ The Waking World by Fairy527, dick & bruce, 2.2k     This isn’t the first time Dick has gone to Bruce after a nightmare. However, this is the first time his nightmare has involved Bruce's murder at his own hands, and it doesn't settle well.

✦ More Alike Than You'll Ever Admit coffeeandchocolate, dick & bruce, 1.2k     Dick Grayson has always been there alongside Batman. So if no one else is going to acknowledge that his first year wearing the cowl was harder, well, he's just going to have to do it himself. After Bruce returns from being lost in time, he and his eldest argue.

✦ Almost, Nearly by CKBookish, dick & bruce & jason & cast, 8.1k     Dick was just supposed to go with him to lunch. He wasn't supposed to get shot. He wasn't supposed to be bleeding out in the pouring rain on the steps of Wayne Enterprises. But then Bruce hadn't expected that sniper and he had seen it far to late. BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Behind Granite and Lime by JeanjacketCarf, dick & bruce & jason & tim & barbara & cass, 14.5k wip     Cassandra had noticed. Of course, she noticed. That was the problem, she couldn’t turn it off. She always had to see, always had to know. So she knew when Dick came back from his mission that something was wrong. Or something is off with Dick. Hopefully, it doesn't have anything to do with those murders.

✦ Soup's On by HoodEx, dick & donna, 2k     Taking care of Dick never feels like a burden, it feels like an instinct. And Donna's really good at following her instincts.

✦ to dream away a sleepless night by waffle-wonder (cosmic_croissant), dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass & stephanie & duke, 2.7k     Dick was fine. He was fine. Sure, he was having a little trouble focusing on unlocking his apartment door, but that didn’t mean anything. Or- Dick is exhausted. His family catches him when he falls.

✦ Temporary by daringyounggrayson, bruce & dick & alfred & cast, 14.8k     The double homicide at Haly’s Circus is not Bruce’s first case involving a child, and while there's no overt indication that Bruce should react differently to this case, he supposes that his previous cases did not involve the witness known as Dick Grayson. On the surface, the Grayson case seems like any other gang case, but the more time Bruce spends with the boy, the more he begins to doubt his own instincts.

✦ To the Moving and the Strange by SilverSkiesAtMidnight, dick & bruce & alfred & tim & cast, 6k     Thankfully, Alfred tips his head in acknowledgement. “I do,” he agrees. “I remember a great many things. But I have forgotten things too, and I expect as time goes on, more of them will slip away from me, and it’s entirely possible that I won’t even notice they’re gone. My memories of them will simply be… less.” Dick looks at him, studying the lines of his weathered face. “Does that ever make you feel like... like if you loved them more, you’d remember them?”

✦ better luck nest time by ScarlettSwordMoon, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke & cast, 47k wip     Feeling as if Dick’s family does not appreciate him enough, an alternate Earth version of Babs turns Dick into a bird. Now each member of the Batfamily must confess something to him if they ever want to see Dick as a human again. AKA The tale of a family and their birb.

✦ deep roots (are not reached by the frost) by fanfictiongreenirises, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & cast, de-aged!dick, 85.2k wip     Dick gets reverted to a younger self after being kidnapped on during a case. But this is far from a routine de-aging.

✦ Bludhaven Police Department by Lady_of_Lorule, bruce & dick & jason & tim & barbara & amy & donna & wally & cast, 31.1k     Sgt. Amy Rohrbach learns that her partner, rookie cop Dick Grayson, is not what he seems. Or how Amy finds out that Dick Grayson is the heir to the entire Wayne fortune, the vigilante Nightwing, the leader of the Titans, and meets some of the Batfam and the Titans along the way. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I'M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ Too Many Walls and Not Enough Bridges by CamsthiSky, dick & damian, 3.7k     There's something bothering Damian. Dick's determined to help Damian feel comfortable enough to share it.

✦ All The Small Things by Geeves, dick & damian & bruce & cast, 20.1k     After Bruce's return to the Bat, Dick and Damian have to deal with just being brothers, but things are just a bit too messy to be that easy BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ Do-over by mx_chrx99, dick & jason & todd & damian & steph, 6.2k     Jason never really got to do the "family vacation" thing. Neither did Tim, Steph, or Damian. Dick did, but that was ages ago. Now's their chance to make up for lost time.

✦ pick up off the floor by deargalileo, dick & jason & bruce, 3k     there was a lump on Bruce's office floor. a Dickwing shaped lump.

✦ the trials and tribulations of fatherhood by InkpotSprite, bruce & dick & jason & tim, 2k     Dick, Jason and Tim compete to see who was the worst child. The answer surprises them all. On an unrelated note, Bruce is wondering if adoptions are a lifetime deal, or if they can be undone.

✦ A Time To Reflect by Experimental_Muse, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & duke & alfred, time travel, 14.5k     Bruce finds himself stuck in the past, and while waiting for the league to pick him up, struggles to get along with his past self. Plus being in a practically empty manor is a bigger adjustment than he'd like to admit. BATFAM FIC RECS - SOMETIMES YOU JUST THINK BRUCE AND DIANA SHOULD KISS IT OUT: ✦ One equal temper of heroic hearts by victoria_p (musesfool), bruce/diana, nsfw, 1.5k     Bruce and Diana reconcile at Nanda Parbat.

✦ Thanksgiving at the Kents by starknjarvis, bruce/diana & cast, 8.9k     Clark convinces Diana to come to the farm for Thanksgiving, and Diana finally gets the chance to meet Bruce's kids. There are far more of them than she had expected.

✦ Escape Artistry by David Hines (hradzka), bruce/diana & cast, 24.2k     Wonder Woman is eager to learn new things. Batman, less so. Primarily JL animated continuity; some comic elements from as far back as the Golden Age. Complete. BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE'S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ Will you die for (marry) me? by Ididloveyou_once, tim/kon & cassie & bart & cast, 7.8k     Tim sacrifices himself on a mission and lives. Conner hates that. They struggle through the aftermath.

✦ A Saturday Evening by malcyon, tim/kon & clark/lois & jonathan kent/martha kent & kara, 13.8k     Kon invites Tim over for dinner. Tim's not sure if he should have accepted that invitation.

✦ Sending all my love to you by Paintedqueen, tim/kon, 10.9k wip     Conner and Tim get blasted into New Earth where they meet an old friend.

✦ Composed of Us by starlikeknight, tim/kon & bruce & dick & cast, 37.1k wip     Or, a spiralling Tim clones a baby without thinking about the consequences. And there are many, many consequences. BATFAM FIC RECS - I SAY THIS IS A BATFAM REC LIST BUT SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA SHOVE THOSE ASSHOLES OUT OF THE WAY AND READ SOME SUPERFIC: ✦ All these things (that I'll never know) by Paintedqueen, conner & clark & kara & jonathan & implied tim/kon & cast, 12.7k     Kon-El's journey on what it means to be Kryptonian.

✦ birthday bash by yeeyee123, conner & clark & jon & tim/kon, 11.8k     Kon’s pumped that Clark has brought him in to help put together Jon’s 8th birthday party. No really, he is! Just don’t ask him directly about it, or he may need to go leave the room and take a breather. Inhaling helium gas from all those balloons isn’t good for you, you know?

✦ Catching Icarus by Fantasyfire, conner & clark & justice league, 24.8k wip     A bad encounter with magic banishes Superboy into another world. Stranded, the Kryptonian clone must deal with a whole new league and a much different Superman.

✦ Nobody's Child by Kizmet, clark & conner & lois & ma kent & pa kent & cast, 18k     Superboy is deaged. While Young Justice looks for a cure Batman sticks Clark Kent with babysitting duties. BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ Adeamus by miss_aphelion, bruce & dick & stephanie & damian & jason & tim & clark & cast, 32k     I'll always be there to catch you, Bruce had promised him once. Dick would like to believe it hadn’t been meant as a threat at the time. (or; Bruce takes over Gotham to keep his sons safe, but he’s already trained Dick too well to always protect others first)

✦ Gorgon’s eyes by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cast, 9k     Dick will give time to his family. He’s just came back as Nightwing after being undercover in Spyral; he understands that they won’t forgive him immediately. Except, when an encounter with neurotoxin leaves him completely paralyzed, he has no choice but to rely on them.

✦ bad signal by prismatical, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & cast, 38.4k     The rescue mission went well. Nightwing is safe. Everything should be alright. Right?

✦ And The Crown Will Sing by ScarlettSwordMoon, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cast, read the tags, 84.7k wip     After an encounter with alien technology, Bruce re-evaluates some previously held ideals. Gotham doesn’t need a Knight, she needs a King. Bruce will do whatever it takes to secure his rightful place as ruler of Gotham. He will do whatever it takes to keep his sons by his side. Even if it means breaking them in first. [Dark Bruce Wayne, eventual Dark Batfam]

✦ borderline by TheResurrectionist, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph, 22.7k wip     A mysterious force connects the Batfamily's minds together.

✦ Parting is all we Know of Heaven by Sword_Kallya, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & amy, suicidal ideation, 11.9k     Three months after Batman returns from the timestream, Dick Grayson has disappeared.

✦ Behind Granite and Lime by JeanjacketCarf, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cass & cast, read the tags, 18k wip     Cassandra had noticed. Of course, she noticed. That was the problem, she couldn’t turn it off. She always had to see, always had to know. So she knew when Dick came back from his mission that something was wrong. Or something is off with Dick. Hopefully, it doesn't have anything to do with those murders.

✦ A Little Out of the Ordinary by dizarys, tim & dick & conner & slade & cast, 1.5k     A boot scraped against stone at the same time pain seared through Tim’s chest, radiating from one sharp, jabbing point. With a gasping wheeze, he tried to grab at it. But his arms refused to move.

✦ Override Two: Family Protocol by zombiesbecrazy, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cass & cast, talon!dick, 78.3k     When faced with an impossible and inescapable situation, Dick does the only thing left that he can do to save his family. Surrender himself to the Court of Owls to become their Talon in exchange for their lives.

✦ Weekend Commute by CKBookish, bruce & dick & jason & tim & donna & wally & cast, 7.4k     Dick Grayson makes his way home during the first snow fall of the year, when he finds himself confused and cold, miles from home.

✦ What These Hands Have Done by WinterSky101, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred & cast, 14k     Dick is mind controlled into attacking his family. Unsurprisingly, he takes the whole thing very badly.

✦ birdsong by ScarlettSwordMoon, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & steph & cast, 22.7k     After getting a face full of Scarecrow’s newest toxin, Dick isn’t haunted by his typical nightmares. No. This one has little green pixie boots. AKA Batman: Ego but make it Robin.

✦ New Krypton by Hawkstout, dick & clark & bruce & cast, read the tags, 15.9k wip     Robin is captured by the Kryptonians and put under the care of Kal-El, the man he has known as Superman. Kal-El wants to do his best for Robin and keep the boy safe and healthy. He's fond of him. They were friends once. He hopes that once Robin understands the invasion of his home is for the best that he will grow to see him as a guardian, maybe even as a father. But Robin doesn't need another father. He needs a way to escape.

✦ i was not born to drown by daringyounggrayson, bruce & dick & tim & damian & donna & wally & roy & cast, 25.2k     Or: After getting shot by Doctor Hurt, Dick develops chronic migraines.

✦ Running Headlong into My Arms by gleesquid, bruce/selina & dick & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cass & steph & alfred & cast (& some minor pairings), 54.2k     Bruce doesn’t like to credit one thing for saving his life, but if he did, it would be Haly’s Circus that Friday night in September, just as summer was beginning to die. (He'll always be a sucker for kids with sad eyes, no parents, and more fight than the world knows what to do with.) Or: in a universe where superheroes don't exist, Bruce Wayne finds his family.

✦ Waking In The Night Light by I_Have_To_Get_Off_This_Planet, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cass, 7.1k     Aside from the soft pitter-pattering of rain against the window, it’s quiet in the room. Tranquil, Bruce thinks. Or at least, as tranquil as a hospital room can get. BATFAM FIC RECS - THROW BABY DICK AT BATTISON, C'MON DO IT, IT'LL BE HILARIOUS: ✦ take these broken wings and learn to fly by fishingclocks, dick & bruce & alfred, 49.2k wip     or, How Dick Grayson Burrowed His Way Inextricably into the Heart of Bruce Wayne

✦ A Bat and his Birds by SalParadiseLost, bruce & dick & jason & tim, 3.1k     Bruce Wayne adopts a child on impulse... and then another... and then another. He doesn't know what he's doing, but somehow it doesn't end up too bad except for the fact that his kids think he's a vampire.

[limes-sagau]

Starting My Sagau Writing Journey

Ok Im wanting to dip my toes into the Sagau writing scene and I wanted to put out about 3 ideas I have and plan on writing. Each idea will be outlined below and people are welcome to take inspiration off of them just make sure to tag me in the writing. There will also be a poll at the end where you can vote for which one you want to see first. When I finish writing each chapter they will be put up on AO3. 

Shimeji AU: 

For those who don't know, Shimeji is a browser extension that spawns a chibi version of a character onto your browser. This character can then move around and climb on the borders of your web page and just be a cute little distraction (I know this might sound like malware but its not I've had a Venti and a Lumine Shimegi for a while now and haven't experienced anything that can imply they are malware) 

This would be more of a drabble and less of a full fic. 

Basically the characters in genshin become aware through their Shimeji and then begin acting up in your browser when you're out of the game (when you're in game you're fine).

If you leave your web browser opened when you leave your computer you will come back to it being on a weird page 

Like Venti looking at a wine website 

Diluc somehow ending up on a streaming service watching Batman 

Yae Miko finding your writing 

I'll likely start off with characters from Mondstadt and go down the list for each region.

Kidnapped by the Harbingers (not the final title): 

Exactly as it sounds, in the middle of the night you are taken from your college dorm (or room I likely won't specify) to Teyvat after the harbingers find a way into our world. 

Haven't decided which harbinger will be sent (leaning towards Childe because I feel like it would fit best and he'd be down for that type of experiment). 

Most of it will take place in a separate castle from Zapolyarny Palace. 

If you want to know my specific location I have in mind their is a visual novel called Dottore And The Spy where you become Dottores apprentice (highly suggest this visual novel) but its main story takes place in a castle in the middle of a frozen wasteland away from civilization where both Pantalon and Dottore live. This will be the main location for the story. 

I'll also be adding in Capitano as another permanent resident of this castle because I want to write about a big strong man who is the emotional intelligence of the three main harbingers present. 

The other harbingers and the Tsaritsa will appear but they will be much more understated in their role.

I want this fanfic to go into the mental load that being locked away from the world has on a person's psyche.

Readers' powers will slowly awaken, making it harder for the Harbingers to keep us a secret from Teyvat and specifically Celestia.

This won't be a full blown yandere fic with the harbingers, they will be slightly possessive but it is more about your safety since Celestia doesn't like you. 

Celestia will be the ultimate enemy over all but the story will not be focused on shooting down Celestia from the sky as readers powers will not ever reach the strength needed to face Celestia alone. 

Harbingers plan will not have changed; they are still working to take down Celestia.   

This will be taking place after Sumeru (so no Scara or La Signora and their will be less clones)

The story will also include 

Getting to know and bond with your castle staff like maids or ladies in waiting (I know these are typically only given to female presenting reader but I want to write about gossip and forming friendships so this is what I'm going with) 

Quality time with each harbinger

Impressing Dottore with your basic levels of knowledge on Astronomy (since Teyvats sky is fake)

Eventually a runaway arch

Lots of tears and mental breakdowns, but don’t worry there will be comfort as well

Shenanigans 

Possibly NSFW after reader finally convinces everyone to stop calling them “your grace”

To Make a Haven (Title might change):

Imposter (but reader is the real deal) AU

Reader gets killed once by a mob of NPCs 

I want it specifically to be NPCs so the reader still has emotional attachment to the playable characters

Reader seeks out a safe and secluded place  

Teyvat awakens to readers distress and opens up a hidden area of the map to the reader that can only be accessed through very specific means. 

Reader eventually starts bringing in Hilichurls to what for now im going to be calling “the Grove” 

Reader will begin messing around and experimenting with her powers and finds a way to somewhat heal the hilichurls 

This isn't a full fix it will be like layering a curse on top of a curse in order to negate some of the effects of the original curse

The hilicurls will not return to being human they will become something else (human like but not human) 

This fic will contain way more original characters 

Reader will be more spiteful in this fic but less in like a “make everyone suffer” way and more like “lets shake up the system and make everything more challenging for people because they tried to kill me” 

This fic will span over a larger span of time in world with the reader building a full city in the hidden area Teyvat made for them.

Well those are my three ideas! after this poll is done I'm hoping to get the first chapter out with that week, but I'm a college student and it been a while since I have written fanfiction so i make no promises.

[harzilla]

*slaps hand on table*

Tell me about your Yuusona. Your twst protag. I love seeing people's ideas and concepts. Are they just you? That's awesome! Are they twisted from a Disney character? Sweet! Are they your way to work through your trauma? More power to you!

One of my favorites is @ilmacore 's Maria. Blessed adorable abuelita Yuu.

I have four currently rolling around in my head. Each one is based on a type of genre.

The first is chubby!Yuu, the shoujo/magical girl type. My darling lil chubby gal who is another member of the sunshine team. The best damn support these boys will have. Her nickname from Floyd would be capybara(I originally had it as manatee but capybara fits her more because she's genuinely nice and tries to get along with everybody). I see her wearing a lot of cottage core, florals, etc... soft feminine clothing. Her ending would have her finding a way back home but being able to travel back and forth between Twst and her home world. You can guess which boy(or boys) might have a crush on her based on these pics.

The next one I call punk!Yuu. The one who fits the shonen archetype. Had a shitty life growing up and was a homeless teen. They ended up in Twst after dying from being hit by a car. Most likely to throw hands for pissing them off. Floyd calls them pistol shrimp. Climbed on and smashed the head of an overblot. Threw Jade at Floyd during book 2's investigation. Protective of those they care about. Lots of piercing and punk style clothing. My favorite ship with them is actually Riddle. Very opposites attract situation. But they have a lot in common(Yuu's father was a worse version of Riddle's mother) Yuu teaches Riddle to live life more freely, and Riddle teaches them to be less rebellious. This Yuu stays in Twst when they find out the truth of how they got there because they're genuinely happier then they ever were back home.

The third Yuu is adopted!Yuu. The one from my previous musings. A Yuu that fits the reincarnated! Archetype. This Yuu originally died in the bad ending timeline where Yuu overblots and becomes a calamity class monster who destroys the world. They were given a second chance at life when they finally died in the first timeline. They reincarnated as an infant and was adopted by Crowley. This Yuu is fairly mellow, when asked why they did something the answer is just they felt like it, but is also good at pulling at Crowley's strings to get what they want. They have a preference for loose, casual clothing. Preferring to wear things like oversized t-shirts and hoodies. Their ending is they almost repeat the calamity when their past life memories begin to overtake their current life after all the overblots including Grim's. But the difference is the previous life Yuu has nobody, but this Yuu has their friends, Grim, and Crowley to save them.

The fourth Yuu I call Author!Yuu. They're pretty much a Yuu who gained so much magical power they became the equivalent of a god. Because they were the first anomaly, they don't age at all and have lived thousands of years accumulating magic and knowledge, even out living Malleus. Their life is lonely and they actually don't want to see another person end up like them. Their magic allows them to manipulate the timelines within a certain limitation. They can't rewrite timelines completely, but they figure out a loophole by finding the alternate versions of themselves they think will give the best outcome for the "story" of the world. This Yuu is the one who figured out the precognitive dreams system to help each Yuu out. This version of Yuu exists in a world where ALL the stories of Twst are true. Fanfics, fanart, game, manga, novel, etc... every story is its own world and this Yuu records every one of them within their great library. Every book in the library of their soul is a story somebody has written about the world of Twst.

So, tell me more about your Yuus.

[physalian]

What No One Tells You About Writing #5

Part 4

Part 3

Part 2

Shorter list this time, but longer points. I expect this one to be more divisive, but it is what it is, and this is what ‘no one tells you’ about writing, after all. This one’s all about feedback and how to take it, and give it.

1. Not everyone will like your book, no matter how good it is

I’ve said this before, granted, but sometimes you can have very arbitrary reasons for not liking an otherwise great story. For example: I refuse to watch Hamilton. Why? Because everyone I knew and their dog was trying to cram it down my throat when it came out and I still don’t really like musicals, and didn’t appreciate the bombardment of insisting I’ll like it simply because everyone else does. I’m sure it’s great! I’m just not watching it until I want to watch it.

It can be other reasons, too. I won’t read fanfic that’s written in first person, doesn’t matter how good it is. Someone might not watch a TV show because the primary cast is white or not-white. Someone might not watch a movie because an actor they despise is in it, even if the role is fantastic. Someone might not watch or read a story that’s too heavy on the romance, or not enough, or too explicit. I went looking for beta readers and came across one who wouldn’t touch a book where the romance came secondary in a sci-fi or fantasy novel. Kept on scrolling.

Someone can just think your side character is unfunny and doesn’t hear the same music as everyone else. Someone can just not like your writing style with either too much or not enough fluff, or too much personality in the main narrator. Or they have triggers that prevent them from enjoying it the way you intend.

How someone expresses that refusal is not your job to manage. You cannot force someone to like your work and pushing too hard will just make it worse. Some people just won’t like it, end of story.

2. Criticism takes a very long time to take well

Some people are just naturally better at taking constructive criticism, some have a thick skin, some just have a natural confidence that beats back whatever jabs the average reader or professional editor can give. If you’re like me, you might’ve physically struggled at first to actually read the feedback and insisted that your beta readers color-coded the positive from the negative.

It can be a very steep climb up the mountain until you reach a point where you know you’re good enough, and fully appreciate that it is actually “constructive” and anything that isn’t, isn’t worth your time.

The biggest hurdle I had to climb was this: A criticism of my work is not a criticism of me as a person.

Yes, my characters are built with pieces of my personality and worldview and dreams and ideals, but the people giving you feedback should be people who either already know you as a person and are just trying to help, or are people you pay to be unbiased and only focus on what’s on the page.

Some decisions, like a concerning moral of your story, is inadvertently a criticism of your own beliefs—like when I left feedback that anxiety can’t just be loved away and believing so is a flawed philosophy. I did that with intent to help, not because I thought the writer incompetent or that they wrote it in bad faith.

I’m sure it wasn’t a fun experience reading what I had to say, either. It’s not fun when I get told a character I love and lost sleep over getting right isn’t getting the same reception with my betas. But they’re all doing it (or at least they all should be doing it) from a place of just wanting to help, not to insult your writing ability. Even if your writing objectively sucks, you’re still doing a lot more just by putting words on paper than so many people who can’t bring themselves to even try.

As with all mediums subjects to critique, one need not be an author to still give valuable feedback. I’m not a screenwriter, but from an audience’s standpoint, I can tell you what I think works. Non-authors giving you pointers on the writing process? You can probably ignore that. Non-authors giving you pointers on how your character lands? Then, yeah, they might have an opinion worth considering.

3. Parsing out the “constructive” from the criticism isn’t easy

This goes for people giving it as well. Saying things like “this book sucks” is an obviously useless one. Saying “I didn’t like this story because it was confusing and uncompelling” is better. “I think this story was confusing and uncompelling because of X, and I have some suggestions here that I think can make it better.”

Now we’re talking.

Everyone’s writing style is different. Some writers like a lot of fluff and poetic prose to immerse you in the details and the setting, well beyond what you need to understand the scene or the plot. Their goal is to make this world come alive and help you picture the scene exactly the way they see it in their minds.

There’s writers who are very light on the sensory fluff and poetry, trying to give you the impression of what the scene should look and feel like and letting you fill in the missing pieces with your own vision.

Or there’s stories that take a long time to get anywhere, spending many pages on the small otherwise insignificant slice-of-life details as opposed to laser-precision on the plot, and those who trim off all the fat for a fast-paced rollercoaster.

None of these are inherently bad or wrong, but audiences do have their preferences.

The keyword in “constructive criticism” is “construct”. As in, your advice is useless if you can’t explain why you think an element needs work. “It’s just bad” isn’t helpful to anyone.

When trying to decide if feedback has merit, try to look at whatever the critic gives you and explain what they said to yourself in your own words. If you think changing the piece in question will enhance your story or better convey what you’re trying to say, it’s probably solid advice.

Sometimes you just have to throw the whole character out, or the whole scene, whole plot line and side quest. Figuring out what you can salvage just takes time, and practice.

4. Just when you think you’re done, there’s more

There’s a quote out there that may or may not belong to Da Vinci that goes “art is never finished, only abandoned.” Even when you think your book is as good as it can be, you can still sleep on it and second-guess yourself and wonder if something about it could have been done better or differently.

There is such a thing as too much editing.

But it also takes a long time to get there. Only 10-15% of writing is actually penning the story. The rest is editing, agonizing over editing, re-editing, and staring at the same few lines of dialogue that just aren't working to the point that you dream about your characters.

It can get demoralizing fast when you think you’ve fixed a scene, get the stamp of approval from one reader, only for the next one to come back with valid feedback neither of you considered before. So you fix it again. And then there’s another problem you didn’t consider. And then you’re juggling all these scene bits and moments you thought were perfect, only for it to keep collapsing.

It will get there. You will have a manuscript you’re proud of, even if it’s not the one you thought you were going to write. My newest book isn’t what I set out to write, but if I stuck to that original idea, I never would have let it become the work that it is.

5. “[Writing advice] is more like guidelines than actual rules.”

Personally, I think there’s very few universal, blanket pieces of writing advice that fit every book, no exceptions, no conditions, no questions asked. Aside from: Don’t sacrifice a clear story for what you think is cool, but horribly confusing.

For example, I’m American, but I like watching foreign films from time to time. The pacing and story structure of European films can break so many American rules it’s astonishing. Pacing? What pacing? It’s ~fancy~. It wants to hang on a shot of a random wall for fifteen seconds with no music and no point because it’s ~artsy~. Or there is no actual plot, or arc, it’s just following these characters around for 90 minutes while they do a thing. The entire movie is basically filler. Or the ending is deeply unsatisfying because the hoity-toity filmmaker believes in suffering for art or… something.

That doesn’t fly with mainstream American audiences. We live, breathe, and die on the Hero’s Journey and expect a three-act-structure with few novel exceptions.

That does not mean your totally unique or subversive plot structure is wrong. So much writing advice I’ve found is solid advice, sure, but it doesn’t often help me with the story I’m writing. I don’t write romance like the typical romance you’d expect (especially when it comes to monster allegories). There’s some character archetypes I just can’t write and refuse to include–like the sad, abusive, angsty, 8-pack abs love interest, or the comedic relief.

Beyond making sure your audience can actually understand what you’re trying to say, both because you want your message to be received, and you don’t want your readers to quit reading, there is an audience for everything, and exceptions to nearly every rule, even when it comes to writing foundations like grammar and syntax.

You don’t even have to put dialogue in quotes. (Be advised, though, that the more ~unique~ your story is, the more likely you are to only find success in a niche audience).

Lots of writing advice is useful. Lots of it is contradictory. Lots of it is outdated because audience expectations are changing constantly. There is a balance between what you *should* do as said by other writers, and what you think is right for your story, regardless of what anyone else says.

Just don’t make it confusing.

—

I just dropped my cover art and summary for my debut novel. Go check it out and let me know what you think!

[silviakundera]

So I'm a little obsessed with this novel conversation between Pei Wenxuan and Li Rong that happened in the events of episode 18, when PWX returns from his perilous trip and is privately freaking out over Su Rongqing proposing to her. It came after his seductive, I can serve you whenever you want 😏 line.

"If Your Highness must choose someone, compared to Su Rongqing, Your Highness might as well choose me."

"Choose you?" Li Rong spoke with mockery.

"Isn't it good?" Pei Wenxuan turned his head to Li Rong and said, "In terms of family history, Pei's family is also a prestigious family. Moreover, now that His Majesty has built the Department of Supervision and Investigation to work against the nobility, the Pei family will even be fully dependent on it, which is much better than the Su family to control."

"And if we talk about individuals," Pei Wenxuan raised his eyebrows, "where is this minister inferior to him?"

"You're bored." Li Rong saw that Pei Wenxuan was talking nonsense, so she did not bother to talk to him further, turned around and lay down, turning her back to Pei Wenxuan and said, "Sleep."

"Don't go to sleep," Pei Wenxuan was a bit dissatisfied, reaching out to pull Li Rong, trying to turn her over and asking, "Where am I inferior to him, tell me!"

Li Rong turned her back on him and did not say anything, covering her ears and not wanting to pay attention to him.

Pei Wenxuan was annoyed and said through clenched teeth, "I am not inferior to him in the six arts of the gentleman. In terms of looks, I am not inferior to him either, but in terms of nature, he treats you better than I do? He can't even ask you to marry him, so what are you thinking about?"

"Not listening," Li Rong heard that he was angry and became somewhat happy.

"Li Rong, tell me clearly," Pei Wenxuan turned her over and said in exasperation, "How am I inferior to him?"

"Then tell me," Li Rong suppressed her laughter and pretended to be serious, "you are just like him in every way, he is from a famous family, so how are you better than him?"

Li Rong sighed, "You can't tell me, can you? Don't bother me if you can't tell me, I'm going to sleep." Li Rong said, then fell down.

Pei Wenxuan sat behind her for a while. Li Rong thought about it, also afraid that she had done too much, ready to say something to comfort him. Before she could open her mouth, she heard Pei Wenxuan say, "But I dare to marry you."

"What kind of nonsense are you talking about?" Li Rong sat up in displeasure, "Is marrying me something to lose?"

"I dare to risk my life to marry you," Pei Wenxuan raised his eyes to look at her seriously, "does he dare?"

When Li Rong heard this, she suddenly froze, and Pei Wenxuan gazed at her quietly, "Li Rong, you are the one I snatched back."

When he was still alone, he had risked his life to bring down the Yang family and stir up the court in order to marry Her Highness.

"But he wouldn't dare."

It was clear that he was of noble status and he held power in his hands, but he did not dare.

Li Rong listened to these words and looked at the youth in front of her, who was like a lone blade. From his past life and present life, all by himself, walking alone.

In fact, she knew.

She had always known that this man, who had climbed all the way up the ladder, had the boldness and ambition that was hard to find in the sons of a noble family, but only in his case, with a little bit of teenage naivety.

"So," Li Rong stopped joking, and she smiled bitterly, "I married you."

"Pei Wenxuan, you know," Li Rong stretched out her hand, pulled his hand over and held it in hers, "in fact, you are good at everything, except for one thing."

"In your heart, you always feel that you are not good enough.

"When you praise yourself, you must bring some kind of achievement: you are the first in the six arts of a gentleman, you know everything, how great an official you are, how well you write, how talented you are, or even," Li Rong looked up, smiling, "how good you are with techniques."

When Pei Wenxuan heard Li Rong's words, his face suddenly heated up, he pretended to be calm, "You can't talk out of thin air, when I say I'm good, I naturally need some reason."

"But I don't think I need one." Li Rong spoke straightforwardly, "You are Pei Wenxuan, that's good."

As Pei Wenxuan's body stiffened slightly, Li Rong continued, "You said to me before that your mother always compared you to your father, to others. But now let me tell you, you don't need to compare yourself to anyone, let alone Su Rongqing."

[pharawee]

Welcome to the second part of my Pit Babe novel commentary aka "hey this isn't so ba---wait where's Babe's sudden daddy kink even coming from??"

And I try (oh my god do I try). 🤡

I'm now at chapter 10, trying to pace myself because the (auto-translated) translation I'm reading is apparently a WIP. I'm on the edge of my seat. The plot is beginning to thicken.

Previously, Charlie was being sus and Babe was catching feelings, but most importantly there was a lot of pwp and very little racing.

Now there's more racing. Babe even brings Charlie (he still has to wear a mask and a hat) but gets too distracted by his presence (he's apparently addicting enough to kiss through the mask) and promptly forgets to check his car before the race (even though Charlie warns him against it but such is the power of scent - or lack of scent in this case. I don't even know anymore - neither does Babe but at some point Charlie states that's he's now in an alpha rut which I suppose means exactly what it says on the tin).

But, oh no! Babe runs into trouble during the race. He loses the lead and his car gets increasingly difficult to control until it crashes and bursts into flames. But it's okay, Babe jumps out of the driving car just in the nick of time (have you ever seen a supercar outfitted for racing? It's difficult enough to climb into one - funny how I'm apparently okay with omegaverse shenanigans but I draw the line at wonky motorsports physics 🤣).

Anyway, the track marshals are doing a really shit job because somehow they 1. let Charlie on the track to singlehandedly try and rescue Babe and 2. they also completely miss that Babe has literally jumped ship car and is lying on the track. He ends up with a broken wrist and a sprained knee (or was it the other way around? anyway, he's wearing several casts) which means he won't be able to finish the season and lose the title of King (all because he was too horny to check his car... but yeah also apparently it was sabotage  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ).

So much for the racing part.

Babe needs weeks to heal so naturally he needs Charlie to pamper and feed him and dick him down several times a day but what else is new. No offence to the the dicking down part but ugh I hate this trope. Maybe it's just because I dislike the dynamics but I don't like the way Babe is taking on more and more cliché omega traits. If I have to read one more time about how much smaller he is (or about his "rounded" hips... are you ok google translate?)...

Oh, and btw. There are omegas in this! Charlie gets flirted at by one (which Babe absolutely hates) and he does have a scent and all. Later, when Charlie is busy being extremely sus again he meets up with a childhood friend, Jeff (Pon's character in the series is called Jeff - oh. oh no...), and if I'm not mistaken he's an omega as well. Jeff cautions Charlie against being with Babe and displeasing his father (which also seems to be Jeff's father? Dude sure has a lots of adoptive kids...) but Charlie argues that he knows what he's doing and he doesn't want to stop anyway.

Later on he tells the exact same thing to his (adoptive?) father, and why do I get the feeling that this might be the same father Babe mentioned earlier when he was telling a feverish Charlie a story to get him to sleep:

In his story, Babe mentions how when he was very small he used to go hungry every day because his mum was out of the picture and his father didn't even make enough money bring food to the table. One day the hunger was so bad that he passed out and woke up in the hospital where a stranger told him he'd be his new family. With little choice in the matter, Babe accepted and went on to spend the rest of his childhood well-cared for and in elite schools etc. That is, until he turned (presumably...) 18 and discovered that his father didn't adopt him out of the kindness of his heart but for ulterior motives that Babe doesn't explain any further because at that point Charlie has fallen asleep.

So yeah, what are the odds that Babe's "father" and Charlie's father are the same person (no spoilers, please)? Because if so then... that's disturbing, especially since Charlie's father seems to want Charlie to lure Babe back home. I mean, Charlie seems to have his own plans but it's not like his father throws him out after their secret meeting. Sus, very sus.

Meanwhile, Babe is slowly losing his heightened senses (the novel doesn't mention it yet but I'm pretty sure this is Charlie's doing) but he doesn't seem to mind because he's too busy falling in love. There's a lovely scene where Charlie and he spend the night stargazing, and this is when Babe realises that something's different because usually his heart only beats this fast when he thinks about racing (lmao).

Cue to them not having sex for a week because Babe feels like he's going crazy.

Meanwhile, it's been decided that Charlie will finish Babe's racing season for him because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and I'm sure he'll win the title too because he's Charlie, alphaest of alphas. Or something.

So one night Babe officially introduces him to the rest of team X-Hunter (and curiously Sonic and North seem to be racers in the novel as well) but things go awry when Babe is too busy fooling around with Way (no you cannot be affectionate with a male friend in a BL novel it is forbidden!!). Charlie and Babe argue and proceed to ignore each other for the rest of the night until they make up (and out) during the official X-Hunter sleepover (with Way and another poor dude sleeping in the same room).

They're polite enough to seek out the indoor pool (this isn't even their house - have you no shame?) and talk it out. And by talk it out I mean there's an inappropriate amount of daddy-calling and Little Mermaid jokes. This is where Charlie claims Babe. Yes, there's knotting (I think? like I said, I'm not axactly an expert and auto-translate is a bit vague, bless its little AI heart). Charlie threatens (I'm sure it's all meant very lovingly 🤡) to impregnate Babe if there's no other way to show others that he's his. To which Babe replies that that's impossible anway.

It's impossible, right? Right??

[shuttershocky]

what do you make of samurai remnant so far? As it's a weeb game, I don't expect any of the normal review sites I trust to cover it

I /hate/ Musou combat and I'm sick of Servants, so me avidly talking about this game means it's way better than even my biases can overlook.

Here's the thing: the vast majority of Type-Moon games fucking suck, because they make visual novels, not video games. "The story's good enough to make you play through this abomination" is the battlecry of Fate/Extra fans. If it wasn't for Melty Blood they might not even have any games where people play for the actual game.

This is not the case with Fate/Samurai Remnant. It's not here to blow your mind out of the water, but it's clearly a title made by people who are both great fans of the source material and are very experienced with producing games on a budget. Solid execution all-around from combat design to character art to environments.

The most notable thing about FSR though is that this game cares a lot about how things are supposed to feel. I've talked enough about how great it is to have Servants feel like real powerhouses again, but this level of care exists within the rest of the game.

"How would it feel to be partners with a superpowered being?" is the defining question informing the majority of the game design. If there's a high place you can't climb without a ladder, Saber simply throws you up there with their superhuman strength. If you're squeezing through a tight alleyway, Saber simply reappears via magic on the other side, sometimes getting ahead of you and waving mockingly while Iori can only grumble and slowly pull his fleshy human body along a tight crevice. There is actual destruction in the aftermath of the first Servant battle that you can see for yourself, which informs Iori's motivation of putting an end to this death game. Iori's neighbors express relief that he's safe because they saw his house explode, or tell him about the whereabouts of his sister Kaya, making the town feel just a little bit more like a setting Iori actually lives in.

As Iori's relationship with Saber grows, the game also tacks on more and more mechanics involving their cooperation. At the very start, Saber cannot be controlled whatsoever and is entirely dependent on the AI. As you progress though, you unlock the ability to give Saber commands and even play as them for a short time. But that's not all, Saber's AI will also start to cooperate with you, following up on enemies that Iori knocks away with a finishing move, or calling for special partner moves called Link Strikes. When you're in trouble, there's even a chance Saber will come rescue you, activating a quick time event where they lock blades with the enemy, attempting to push them back.

This is what the whole game is like. Samurai Remnant doesn't have the resources of an AAA game with an army of developers to create features like ultra HD 4k textures for all environments or realistically shrinking testicles, but you can feel most ideas started with a question of "What would it be like to have Saber here and how do we depict that in some way?" Saber would be fascinated at modern (17th century) Japan, so they often run from place to place pointing out new things to gawk at and demanding explanations from Iori. They didn't have food stalls, paper, or money in their life, so Iori has side missions to buy from every food stall to satiate Saber's hunger, which murders your wallet in-game as you are a poor ronin living hand to mouth every day and need odd jobs to make money.

It feels good to play, and not even as a Type-Moon fan where a lot of these things are something I've been asking for. I mean it's good to see another mid budget game that's neatly focused on simple, solid execution. Most review sites are giving it around a 7.5-8/10, and I'm telling you this isn't a 7.5 from a Type-Moon fan pleading with you that playing Fate/Extella's Altera route makes it actually worth it, this is a 7.5 from people seeing a decently hefty, well-made title.

[carriesthewind]

I can't stop thinking about the notes on this rage-bait post about To Kill a Mockingbird.

Some of it is the sheer number of people falling for the bait and believing that the school district in question banned the novel:

But there's also this...tone to so many of the notes that I find fascinating. And I think two sets of comments illustrate why:

Every time I look at these tags I feel like there is something more to unpack. If I am being kind of flip, I can roll my eyes at someone "sigh[ing] at the lack of reading comprehension" while falling for outrage bait.

But more seriously, I feel like this comment is completely right about needing to be uncomfortable and leave sterile environments in order to grown and change...but that comment exists in the context of the writer being so deeply uncomfortable at the mere idea that an over 60 year old book will no longer be taught to some children that they completely fail to interrogate the underlying story. There's a failure to take the next step. It's possible the writer was uncomfortable when they first read the novel, but to quote a tag I didn't capture here, it's "one of [their] favorite books." The book doesn't make *them* uncomfortable at all. The writer is not willing to interrogate that the school district might have had good reasons for switching the book out of the curriculum. Instead, they assume that the reasons are because "people don't understand" the book - the writer "see[s] what they look for."

I love To Kill a Mockingbird. (Hell, I'm one of those white future-public defenders who read the book and saw the movie and watched Atticus with my soul in my throat and, while I was not directly inspired by him, he resonated with a deep part of me.) It would be an uphill debate to convince me to remove it from a teaching curriculum - but then again, I'm not in charge of any teaching curriculum and have zero relevant expertise. I've read now a number of different articles and reactions to this incident, and the reactions rarely have anything to do with the reality of what decisions were made and why. You have to jump through numerous links to find what appears to be the original parent complaint:

Yolanda Williams said she found out that students were saying the N-word and laughing in the classroom, and it was offensive. “Students were laughing out loud at the teacher’s response. That’s unacceptable to me,” she told the board. “Is there not a better way to teach about that era and the horrors of that era, other than having kids laughing in class when the N-word is said? It should not be required reading for all students. My child shouldn’t have to sit in that class like that.” “It’s not a conducive environment,” Yolanda Williams said. “It’s not just the book, but supplemental material that had the N-word.

(How much do we value, how do we weigh, one way of learning about the history of racism, against the pain of a black child? Whose comfort are we willing to sacrifice, and for what?)

The second comment I come back to is much shorter, but I feel like it's where everything fell in to place for me:

Were the people made uncomfortable by the book white people? How many of them? I don't know for sure - although I know at least one of the parents, as quoted above, was black - and neither do any of the commenters.

Why do we read "people" and see "white people?" And in a way, I'm asking a rhetorical question - because of course we do, because the tweet is set up that day. And, even more so, of course we do - because the people the book is for are white people.

To go back to the previous comment, the one I can't stop unpacking: the writer quotes a famous line from the book, "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view...until you climb into his skin and walk around in it."

And yes, I love this quote.

But.

But.

To Kill a Mockingbird was written by Harper Lee, a white woman.

The narrator of the book is Scout, a white child.

The hero of the book is Atticus, her white father.

The embodiment of the theme, the person whose skin Scout tries to step into, is Boo Radley, another white man.

Do you remember, the man who was murdered? Do you see him in that picture at the top of the post? How long does it take you to remember his name?

When do we step into his skin? When do we walk around with his perspective?

I love To Kill a Mockingbird. But if a school district wanted to teach a book to embody this quote, aren't there so many better ones?

Another commenter on the post appears to have actual lived experience with this book being removed from the teaching curriculum.

[yuri-is-online]

Well Maybe the Octopus was Being a Dick! (Or Tsunotarou tries to do Yu a solid but he misunderstood a joke) pt. 2

A/N: Left some boys out of part one so have some more crack

Pt. 1

“Refuses to take responsibility for this”- Idia

He’s too busy screaming to listen to what Malleus is saying because he’s too busy trying to figure out how he got into his room.  Malleus thinks that Idia is just suffering from some nerves and offers to pretend to be the child of man so he can practice… fighting fish for the prefect’s affection?  Outright refuses but it just comes off as him being too shy again, aaaand now he’s somehow been dragged to an aquarium on a practice date with Malleus who keeps insisting his childlike wonder is just him pretending to be the prefect.  At least Ortho is having the time of his life.  Maybe he can just convince you to come over and play some VR, he really needs to decompress after this.

“Wait don’t ask another guy I’ll do it”- Ace, Deuce, Kalim

Duece and Kalim both take what Malleus is saying extremely seriously and are equally distraught.  Deuce wants to be with you as the best possible version of himself, and that means putting his violent past behind him.  He did just learn how to make mackerel curry though, so maybe that counts?  He can practice fileting fish and hope you think the effort is cute.  Kalim really likes animals so the thought of hurting fish isn’t… ideal but hey maybe he just misheard Malleus and you just really like aquariums.  Yeah that’s got to be it!  There’s absolutely no way Malleus of all people could have misunderstood things in the first place, he’s too smart for that.  Ace sees this as a GOLDEN opportunity to make fun of you and the two of you have a bit of fun clowning around until you make the mistake of whining about how he wouldn’t fight one measly fish and he responds by saying he’d take a bullet for you with zero hesitation and completely seriously. 

Yeah it’s going to take a while for you both to reset after this one. 

“That’s a magicam moment babe”- Cater, Jamil

Both of these guys pay enough attention to trends to have at least an idea that Malleus might be taking a meme literally.  Cater thinks it’s a cute joke he can make a magicam post about, and it gives him an excuse to flirt with juuust enough plausible deniability he can save himself if it proves too embarrassing.  Jamil simply says he doesn’t need to rely on fleeting internet trends to win your affection.  Aquariums are a nice place for a date though so he thanks Malleus for the idea.

“PLEASE ask him to kill for you”- Epel, Lilia

Epel absolutely has a list of wild animals he could protect the prefect from and you can’t convince me otherwise.  He’s a bit iffy on where he ranks fish after meeting the Leech twins, but as long as your favorite isn’t an eel he is rip raring to go, just ignore that weird shadow in your peripheral vision that definitely isn’t Vil waiting to swoop.  Lilia is, obviously, aware that Malleus is misinterpreting a joke.  He’s just really attached to the image of you hanging off of him like the protagonist on the front cover of a really steamy romance novel while he fights off a salmon or something.  He has one of those open chested pirate shirts allll ready to go just say the word. 

“IF WAKA-SAMA SAID IT, IT MUST BE TRUE”- SEBEK, Silver

“Silver?”  I hear you ask in disbelief.  Yes.  He was raised by Lilia in the middle of the woods and his main source of interaction with humans before attending NRC was apparently just Sebek’s dad.  He thinks very highly of Malleus and doesn’t think he’d be lying, but he assumes given how much animals like him it’s you who intend to do the fighting so he shows up to Ramshackle to assure you that isn’t necessary.  You already have his affections.

You know damn well Sebek is climbing into that tank the instant you say something about liking one of the fish.  Malleus gave him instructions on how to court you and he will be cold and dead in his grave before he disobeys a direct order from his lord.  Also refuses to believe you when you say Malleus misunderstood even after his Lord apologizes for accidentally getting him banned from the aquarium for life.  For the sake of Malleus’s pride or his you have no idea.

[greedystevie]

SECRET

not as it seems part one

college!steve x college!fem oc

summary: you and steve are in a "secret" relationship and your best friend/roommate doesn't know

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) oral (fem receiving) fingering

word count: 1.9k

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

authors note: okay this is actually a little bit of a novel i've been working on but i named one of the main character's steve so now i just keep thinking about steve harrington whenever i write for it (probably why i've written 2k words in like 3 days when i've been in a drought) so this is not a y/n insert but i don't describe the fem!main character in any specific way so go and imagine yourself :) but also don't be surprised if this disappears in the future

“Beatrice! Hurry up, we're going to be late!” Thomasina called down the hallway to a distracted Beatrice. A Beatrice who was too busy fantasizing about her crush Steven.

While Beatrice was busy trying on pretty dresses and making herself up to try and ask out the guy of her dreams at this party he was showing up to  their shared New York apartment for Thomasina. Beatrice comes out of her room to see who came in to see Steve- she almost falls to the floor. “Oh uh, hi Steven I didn’t know you were coming over. Did Cece let you in?” Beatrice tucked her hair behind her ear. Posing herself as she tried to come across desirable.

Steve cocked his eyebrow up as he wondered what the fuck she was doing, “yeah she did.” He ended up responding.

Thomasina came out with a couple of drinks, handing one of them to Steve. “Finally she emerges from her cave,” she giggled, stepping towards her friend.

“I uh, heard the door open and shut so I came to see what was going on. Also,” Beatrice grabbed a random garment off the back of a chair. “I’ve been looking for this everywhere.” Huffing out back towards her bedroom.

“I always forget how much she flirts with me,” Steve chuckles softly.

“Probably because she has a-“ Thomasina stopped before she told her best friend's secret. Even if it was about her boyfriend, to her boyfriend. She could never do that.

“What?” Steve asked.

“Oh nothing,” Thomasina stepped close enough to touch his chest. “It doesn’t really matter anyway.”

Steve tenderly placed his hands on her hips, bringing her body closer to him. Locking lips with hers in a heated makeout session. Gripping the edges of her thin t-shirt Steve slipped his hands onto her smooth skin. Fingertips feeling every bone, every twitch of her muscle as he climbed up further towards her breast.

Just as their shirts were coming off and things started to steam up between them Beatrice could be heard coming back into the living area. Thomasina jumped off of Steve. Frantically searching for the articles of clothing while Steve stood still trying to hide his ever growing erection with his hands. She tossed him his shirt and he quickly put it on. Thomasina scurried behind the long sofa to put hers on, pretending to look for something she dropped. Popping up over the couch after Beatrice had been standing frozen at the edge of the room for who knows how long.

Thomasina sauntered over towards Steve, a jacket that had been on the floor for days gripped in one hand, the other grazing his erection. Steve flinched, screwing his eyes shut as he calmed the rising reaction inside himself. Thomasina smirked to the ground before turning towards Beatrice, “hello again Bea.” Thomasina smiled. Slipping past her towards the hall closet to finally put the jacket away. No thought in her head about possibly cleaning it.

Beatrice didn’t budge from her spot, continuing to stare longingly at Steve as if he might vanish at any moment. He was visibly becoming uncomfortable by her gaze by the time Thomasina came back to lean on the couch near him. Side-eyeing his muscular profile as discreetly as she could, stifling a giggle as she saw him still trying to hide his bulge. Sighing and heaving herself off the sofa Thomasina started, “Bea- are you-“ she was interrupted.

“What is he doing here? I don’t remember inviting him?” Beatrice let out a high pitched half giggle near the end. Her nerves finally subsided.

“Sally sent him over to drive us to the party,” the lie came out so smoothly.

“Why couldn’t she make it?”

“Last minute errand I think,” Thomasina scratched her head trying to remember specifics. Specifics that didn’t exist.

“Hm,” Beatrice touched her pointer finger and thumb to her chin in thought. “How ‘bout you Steven? Did she tell you anything specific?”

“No,” he shook his head.

Beatrice nodded in response. Backing away towards the front door, “okay. I guess I’ll head downstairs then. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“Are you sure you’re ready to go?” Thomasina asked.

“Oh yeah,” she sniffed. Closing the door behind her.

Steve relaxed as she turned away. The tension in his shoulders instantly lifting, “finally.” He breathed out. Cracking his knuckles which sent shivers down Thomasina’s spine. Her breath hitched in her throat as she took a moment to remember how to move her chest up and down to let air in. Thomasina spun back around to face Steve, the last thing on her mind was to go meet Beatrice down in the lobby.

After a few moments of silent tension between them Steve took a couple long strides, closing the gap between them. Removing his black cotton t-shirt and tossing it to the brick wall, revealing the few tattoos he had hidden on his chest and back. Thomasina delicately reached out to touch her lanky secret boyfriend. Feeling his rough skin underneath her fingertips as he gripped her hips to bring her closer to him. Snaking her arms around his neck at a snails pace, slowly bringing his head closer to her lips. Tenderly pecking his mouth, tugging at his hair. Bodies in sync as their knees move to the floor. Steve’s fingers tug at the edges of Thomasina’s shirt. Sliding his hand up underneath it to feel the heat of her stomach on the way down to unbutton her jeans. Taking off her acid wash pants for her, lifting her feet one at a time out of the stiff fabric. Leaving her in generic cotton panties that match her cotton shirt. She started to lift the shirt over her head when Steve stood up and quickly gripped her hands to stop her. Lowly growly, “no. keep it on.”

Thomasina smirked at the request. Now she didn’t have to reveal that she wasn’t wearing a bra, although she was pretty sure he could tell. Lowering her arms back down to her sides Steve began leaving kisses on the palms of her hands, pulling her down to the floor. Before continuing he grabbed a couple of pillows off the leather couch without looking, always keeping eye contact with Thomasina. Laying her down on the rough pillows one under her head and one at the small of her back. “How's that?” he queried.

“Perfect,” Thomasina breathed out.

Steve lowered his head to her thighs, leaving soft kisses along the line of her underwear. Thomasina’s leg kicked up as a reflex when he brushed up against the one ticklish section on her body where her torso and leg meet. A quick series of giggles burst from her lungs. Steve continued to kiss down her leg and over to the other one as his motions calmed her back down. Thomasina moved her arms towards his head, letting her fingers grip chunks of his freshly washed hair. Gently tugging them towards where she wanted him, but he resisted. She huffed in frustration. His cold nose biting her flesh as he moved his face wherever he pleased.

Finally, as her consistent grip in his hair felt him move back to the middle. Steve’s eyes darted up to see Thomasina’s eyes screwed shut. Waiting for something spectacular. He smirked, snaking his fingers into the fabric of the elastic waistband of her underwear pulling it down slowly. Thomasina’s thighs constricted slightly by the excitement of him moving closer to the most needy part of her. Nuzzling the tip of his nose deep inside of her, Steve took in her intoxicating scent. Pulling it away from her and replacing it with the stroke of his fingers. “Is this okay? Does it feel good?”

All Thomasina could manage in response was a hefty moan. Steve smirked, a little bit proud of the effect he had on her. “I just want to make you happy Tom cat,” he stroked her thigh with his free hand. Taking it all the way up her torso to her breast.

“Stevie,” she groaned out in pleasure. “Faster.”

Obedient Steve pumped his fingers faster, eyes just peeking over her waist as he started to lick her pearl. Never taking his eyes off of her face. Coming up for air Steve pulled his fingers out completely, leaving Thomasina yearning for more. Licking his fingers clean of her insides before unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down part of the way. Boxer shorts following suit, covering his cock with his big hand and started to rub it back and forth a few times.

“Don’t forget the condom dumbass,” Thomasina panted.

“I thought you were on the pill?” Steve questioned. Eyebrow popping up as he pulled his pants back up for the wallet that he didn’t realize had fallen behind him.

“Doesn’t mean I want you’re dirty-“ she gagged before finishing. “Penis inside of me without a jacket on.”

Leaning back to pick up his wallet and take out one of the many fresh condoms he had tucked in it since they had started having sex. Sighing heavily as he knew she wasn’t serious. Rolling the rubber up, watching her bite her bottom lip as she watched the act. “I literally took a shower today,” Steve sighed as he settled into her with a grunt.

“I know boo,” Thomasina moaned. “Your hair is so luscious. Have you been using that shampoo I recommended?”

Steve nodded, unable to say words as light, breathy moans escaped his throat. Thomasina mimicked his actions, trying to keep the sound to a minimum. But it was hard. Wrapping her arm around his neck entwining her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck once more. “It’s done wonders for you honey bunches.” She gasped so loudly as her body shook with release.

Riding it out right with her until they were both a sweaty mess on top of each other. Heaving and giggling until the front door slammed open. Their faces covered with shock, at least until they realized it was Sally.

“You two are so lucky I slipped past Bea!” She screeched, not caring about their half naked, tangled bodies. “You are not as slick as you think you are. You are going to hurt that poor girl if you aren’t careful,” Sally stomped back out. Making sure to also slam the door shut the same way she opened it.

“What does that mean?” Steve asked, confused. Removing himself from Thomasina. Exhastedly huffing as he lays next to her on the rough floor.

“I promised I wouldn't tell,” Thomasina bit her lip. Turning to face him.

“Well if I know what’s going on maybe I can help,” he smiled sweetly at her.

Sighing Thomasina weighed the options in her mind. Ultimately deciding to tell him, “Beatrice has a crush on you.”

“Oh that,” he chuckled.

“You knew?” Thomasina sat up like a shot, “Who told you?”

“No one told me,” he grunted as his elbow slid against the floor when he struggled to sit and meet her gaze. “I figured it out.” He sighed as he gave up on trying to sit up.

Thomasina silently got up, picking up and dressing herself in the discarded cotton underwear. Going back over to her turtle of a boyfriend she bent down to grab his arm and heave him off the floor.

“Guess we better get going then,” Steve sighed as he pulled his clothing back on.

Thomasina quietly nodded in response. Not very happy about the wake up call her friend had given her, very much planning on getting wasted at this party.