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f1gments · 2 years ago

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DETOUR - HAYAKAWA AKI |早川アキ (M)

You and Aki are supposed to be on your way back from a mission, but the rain that’s been pouring non-stop has Aki pulling over to the side of an empty road for safety precautions. It doesn’t look like it’s stopping any sooner, so what better way to spend that time than to have sweaty, breathy, messy sex in the back seat?

MINORS DNI

Pairing: aki x fem!bodied reader

word count: 8.0k

R18, making out, smut, car sex, protected sex, semi-public sex, handjob, oral sex (towards Aki), vaginal fingering, nipple licking, cowgirl position, missionary, vaginal sex, teasing & dirty talk, softdom aki (?), boyfriend aki

he smokes for a little bit. also calls you baby a few times.

authors note: car sex fic among my list of wips that i’ve been wanting to put out for ages, so ya’ll can thank the amount of horny i had in order to push through with this fic lol. also big thank you to my darling @meownotgood for beta reading and revising! and also adding fuel to the aki horny. i give you big kith <3 <3

18+ explicit content ahead. please for the love of god DO NOT interact if you’re a minor.

Aki exhales a long, defeated sigh from the driver’s seat.

“It looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.” he says, switching the car engine off.

It's been pouring non-stop from the moment you left the city, but the rain has only grown heavier, to the point where it's difficult to see the road — or anything, for that matter. All you can make out through the droplet-soaked windows are the elusive silhouettes of houses and the blurred lights from the street lamps. The sky is gloomy and dark, puffy gray clouds obscure the sun.

The two of you were supposed to be on your way back to headquarters after completing a mission Makima had sent you on. According to file reports and a call she received, the Rat Devil was going around terrorizing citizens in a small district on the far outskirts of Tokyo.

The mission itself was simple: kill the Rat Devil and report back to Makima upon confirmation of its extermination. By the time you and Aki arrived, almost half the neighborhood was killed — or rather, eaten, so there wasn't any need for search and rescue. The devil was dealt with rather easily. You and Aki would have been at headquarters and done with all of this by now, if it wasn't for the sudden rainstorm interrupting that plan.

So, here you are, parked at the side of an empty road with Aki, biding your time until the rain stops.

You're a little bored, sure, but this isn't all bad. It feels good to relax a bit before you have to go back to headquarters; you can already see the giant stack of paperwork waiting for you.

You hum as you shrug off your coat, before leaning your head against the headrest. You stare out the foggy window; there's a couple of houses up ahead that you can see from where you're parked, and beside them is a small playground. The whole neighborhood looks empty, as expected. You don’t think any kids will be coming out to play in this weather.

The sound of the rain echoes a rhythmic pitter patter against the roof of the car. It's soothing, like it could lull you to sleep. You allow your tired eyes to close, and you almost drift off, but in a few moments, the sudden realization of being stuck in the rain, all alone somewhere secluded with your boyfriend begins to form an idea inside your head.

It's not the best idea to be thinking of right now, sure. But considering it's been raining non-stop for ages now, and considering you need some way to pass the time, you wouldn't exactly say it's the worst thing you could come up with.

You're just not sure about getting Aki to agree to it. You can already hear his response in your head: Really? You want to have sex right now? That's… We can't. Just wait until we get home.

You've been dating Aki for an entire year now, and sex isn’t exactly new to you anymore, since you both gave each other your firsts on the fifth month of being together. But even now, Aki still blushes whenever you undress in front of him, or when you ask if you can suck him off during foreplay.

He always tells you that you don't have to do anything for him, because he feels good just by watching you come undone on his fingers, his mouth giving you soft kisses on your clit while his tongue gives you long licks until your toes are curling as you cum. He's still the same as when you first met him, too shy to make the first move, and so dedicated to your own pleasure that he forgets about his own.

And you know he's definitely too embarrassed to consider having sex in a place like this. You've never done anything remotely intimate with him in any place besides the bedroom. Hell, sometimes he's too embarrassed just to kiss you in public.

You think you have an idea to convince him, though.

You turn to look at Aki, who has one hand resting on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping a random beat against it. He rests his chin in the palm of his other hand, elbow on the side panel of the door. The rain continues to fall, drumming against the rooftop, as though it’s trying to flood the empty streets outside, to wash off all that is unjust and evil.

Aki fidgets in the driver's seat for a moment, before you watch him pull out his pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his pants. He lights one up with the baby blue lighter you always see him use, and then he twists the key in the ignition, putting it in accessory mode so only the lights and radio turn on.

He rolls the window down enough for him to flick the ashes out of it, making the petrichor invade your nose for a few moments. The rich, familiar smell of smoke he exhales replaces it, the wind drifts the scent towards you, along with the faint warm and woody cologne that emanates from him.

You gaze at his handsome features in awe, admiring his side profile; the dull luminescence overcasting a shadow on his angular jawline and high cheekbones, eyes of welded iron and a gaze just as hard — Eyes that have seen more than anyone could possibly imagine in one lifetime. An upper lip that protrudes a little further than the lower, and cheeks of dusty pink; they soften his expression, and his demeanor of steel.

You shake your head before you end up getting lost in your thoughts any further. You inhale deeply, breathing in the remainder of smoke, and the gentle scent of the cologne clinging to his clothes once again.

“Hey, Aki…”

His attention goes to you the second he hears your voice, deep blue eyes scanning your gentle features and your unreadable expression. He notices that you've taken your coat off.

“Hmm, what’s wrong?” Aki replies softly. “Are you feeling warm? I can turn the air conditioning on for a bit if you’d like.” He reaches for the air conditioning valve on the dashboard, but you grab his hand to stop him, shaking your head.

“I’m fine. It’s something else.” You peer up at him through your lashes. His hand is warm.

“What is it?” There’s a look of genuine concern apparent on his face as Aki puts out the cigarette in the portable ashtray he carries in his jacket. He scans all the parts of your body he can see — your arms, your hands, your neck, your shoulders, trying to see if there's any injuries, worried that you might have gotten hurt from the mission earlier.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head again with a chuckle, and you grab both of his hands, squeezing them tightly. “No, Aki. I told you, I’m fine. It’s just that...”

You can't help but trail off; feeling a little embarrassed, you start to fiddle with his fingers, averting your eyes.

“Spit it out already." Aki sighs impatiently, making you chuckle again.

“So impatient.” you answer, smirking, to which Aki gives you an unamused blank stare.

“I was thinking we could do something fun to pass the time."

Aki raises an eyebrow. “Like what?”

You lean in closer, and since the space between you and him in the car isn’t very big to begin with, your lips are already inches away from his.

You cup his chin between your finger and your thumb and whisper, “Like this…”

At once, you've closed the distance, and your lips press softly to his. Aki's eyes widen, but soon, he's relaxing into the kiss, his shoulders slumping, his eyes fluttering shut. The smell of you consumes his senses: vanilla and lavender, utterly intoxicating.

When the kiss deepens, he can taste the faint flavor of your lip gloss: cherry and mint. He kisses your lips over and over again like he can't get enough, soft but hungry at the same time.

You move to climb on top of him, and Aki adjusts himself, leaning back in his seat to give you enough space to straddle him comfortably. Your tongue presses to his; you kiss languidly and deeply, taking time to explore each other’s mouths. Your lips feel so good against his own, so perfect. They're fogging up his mind, like you're demanding him to forget everything except for you — and it’s working.

Your hands grip tightly onto his shirt as Aki skims his fingers down your shoulders and across your sides, resting them onto the curve of your waist. Right now, neither of you are thinking about getting back as soon as possible, or your lives, or anything like stupid devils and more missions. It’s just the both of you focusing on each other, and Aki’s mind is consumed only by thoughts of how good you make him feel.

You both pull away breathlessly, foreheads resting against one another. Still catching your breath, you roll your hips into Aki's lap hesitantly, testing the waters. Aki groans, but he gives your waist a firm squeeze, stopping you from continuing.

“We… we can’t. Not here." Aki looks at you through heavy eyelids. “Someone might see us.”

You slide backwards a little on his lap as much as the small space will allow, until you feel the steering wheel press into your back. Your hand slowly travels up his thigh, fingers playing with the zipper of his pants.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to be quick then.” You flash him a grin, but Aki stares back with an unamused expression. You reach up, toying with the earring on his lobe, resisting the urge to pinch his cheek. “Come on Aki, we haven’t seen another car for three hours. I doubt anyone’s going to see us in this rain.”

Aki doesn't respond, so you take matters into your own hands: in a few seconds, you've grasped the button on his slacks and popped it open. You're tugging the zipper down, relieving some of the pressure when you hear Aki inhale sharply, his eyebrows furrowed, but he doesn't make an attempt to push you away.

“Stop that.”

His voice is weak, it's shaky, it lacks the bite you normally hear out of him when you're at work. And even though he's telling you to stop, Aki's body betrays him. You can feel the bulge that's forming underneath his slacks, you notice how he lifts his hips a little to make it easier for you to tug his pants down. Your smirk grows wider.

“Do you really want me to stop?” you hum, moving closer to whisper into his ear.

“Baby-” Aki quips sharply, almost like a warning, but you continue your ministrations; you rub where the hem of his briefs meets his stomach with your thumbs, you kiss him softly behind his ear.

“Don’t you want me too?” You pull back to meet his eyes, and you tilt your head to the side, your lips pulling up into a coy smile. Aki's heart skips a beat at the sight.

Aki swallows thickly. “I…”

It’s not that he doesn’t want you. It's just that he'd much rather have you somewhere more comfortable, more familiar. When he's looking at you like he is now, his head spins with the thought of driving you home, tossing the door open only to carry you to his bedroom and pin you to the bed. He imagines your hands gripping the sheets, your voice calling his name with his head buried between your legs, his lips on your clit and his mouth on your pussy.

No, he definitely wants you, and he can't deny it, he can't stop thinking about it now that you've got him started.

Before Aki can give you a reply, you lean into his neck, giving him a few soft, teasing kisses on his warm skin, before you pull back and look at him again with the same imploring smile.

Aki sighs, half in annoyance, half in submission. You can see the affection behind his eyes when he looks at you; deep down, he’s a pile of mush, unbelievably endeared to you. He’s helpless when you ask for things out of the blue like this, especially when you give him such a pleading look with those doe-like eyes.

Aki takes in a long, steady breath before he asks, “Are you sure you want to do this here? Wouldn’t it be better if we wait until we get home?”

“I’m sure. Besides,” You nod softly, smiling, “Don’t you think it’s a little exciting to fuck me in the car?”

Oh, Aki thinks it’s very exciting. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, he gets a certain rush just by imagining it, it's a kind of feeling he's never felt before. His dick throbs in his briefs when he thinks of fucking you in the backseat of the company car, and in public, no less.

Part of him is still nervous — What if you both make a mess, what if someone catches you? But another part of him wants to chase that rush, he wants to have you right here, and right now.

He tries to temper the fog in his head, focusing on the feeling of you against him. It's difficult when his heart is thumping loud in his eardrums, and when his core is thrumming with anticipation and need.

“I need you, Aki.”

Sometimes, he swears you can read his mind.

“I need you too.” he replies, and you don’t miss the faint pink color dusted on his cheekbones. Aki swallows, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself. “Just this once. We'll do this just this once, got it?”

Aki motions his head over to the back seat, and you take the hint, quickly climbing into it. He follows suit shortly after, and everything is a blur of clothes coming off and hungry, heated and sloppy kisses. You're left in just your underwear, and Aki is left in just his loose work slacks.

You can feel the familiar rush of white hot want course through your veins.You’re sure Aki feels the same way because in between kisses, when your hand goes back to stroking the tent in his pants, he seems to have only gotten harder. You give him one last firm squeeze, pulling away to position yourself on your knees in front of him.

It's a tight fit; the company cars are spacious, but you're still crammed in between him and the back of the front seat, it leaves you to rest your head on his legs and press your chest to his knees.

“What… what are you doing?” Aki stutters nervously, squirming a little in his seat when you reach for his slacks. You tug them down his legs the rest of the way until they're pooled at his ankles.

“Making you feel good.”

Your fingers feel warm on his skin when you push them under the waistband of his briefs. You help him out of them, his length bounces up to tap his stomach when you tug them all the way down. The sensitive, pink head tingles when it brushes against his skin, causing Aki’s entire frame to shudder with need.

You waste no time gripping the base of his cock and spitting on the leaking tip, stroking him slowly. Aki spreads his legs a little wider for you as your palm swipes the tip, getting his length wet with your saliva and his precum; the sensation has him moaning in pleasure.

Barely squeezing, you slowly move your hand up and down the shaft, you snicker a little when you hear him whimper slightly. You pump his cock lazily, and Aki reaches down, grabbing your arm to steady himself, thrusting his hips up into your hand, searching for more.

And you give it to him; Aki’s head falls back against the headrest with a thud, and he grunts as you start to stroke him faster. “Feels… so good.”

“More?” you ask, your voice husky. Aki nods feverishly in response.

“God, yes. Please. Don't stop, don't stop...”

The slick noises filling the car and the sound of Aki's desperate begs add on to the growing ache between your legs, they mix with the echo of the rain tapping the roof of the car and the windshield. He mutters a strained fuck when you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and bring it to your warm tongue, giving the tip a tentative lick.

“S-Shit…” Aki hisses, his breathing unsteady, “That's it… Keep going.”

At first, you start by just trailing kisses down his tip to the underside of his cock, and Aki shivers at the faint sensation. When you trail back up, starting to take him into your mouth, you feel his palm lay softly on the back of your head, and then his fingers knot themselves into your hair, gripping tightly, holding the loose strands away from your face in a makeshift ponytail.

Aki watches you with his jaw slack, he quietly moans your name when your cheeks hollow, your head bobbing up and down his cock at a languid pace.

Aki grips your hair a little tighter. His eyes meet yours, his gaze is heavy with lust and with love. “So good, you're doing such a good job.”

With your saliva involved, every time you suck on his cock with your lips closed, there's a nasty, loud squelch — It reminds him that this is happening right here, that you're sucking Aki's cock in the backseat. He's in so much bliss he's hardly thinking about it, he can only focus on the feeling of your tongue swirling around his dick, of your warm mouth and the tip of his cock slightly touching the back of your throat when he bucks his hips up.

He rubs the back of your head gently, his eyelashes flutter when he looks at you.

“Your lips… They're so pretty.” Aki tells you, and you pull away from his cock with a loud pop.

“Yeah?” A teasing smile forms on your lips. “And you have a pretty dick.”

Aki's cheeks instantly blossom with color, petals of dusty rose scattering across his handsome features. His pupils blow out deep, dark and wide. You've always thought Aki has the most beautiful pair of eyes, they're like a door to his soul. Pools of deep dark blue that you could drown inside if you weren’t so busy sucking the life out of him in the back of the sleek company sedan.

You watch Aki draw his bottom lip between his teeth, hesitating, before finally, he gently pushes down on the back of your head, with so little force you almost don't feel it.

“C’mon… keep going for me, just a little bit, please. Can you do that?" His voice cracks slightly, his tone high-pitched. You smile, nodding obediently, and you move back down to wrap your warm lips around him once again.

“Mhmm.” The hum of your voice sends vibrations over Aki's cock, causing him to inhale a sharp breath through his teeth. You look up at him one last time, batting your eyelashes before sinking your mouth down on him completely, taking him all the way down your throat. Tears well at the corners of your eyes, and you shut them tight to will them away.

Aki cries out, his thighs shaking. He stammers, “S-Shit, baby, too much, slow down...”

He's trying his hardest not to thrust himself into your mouth. His eyes almost roll into the back of his head when he feels the tip of his cock brush the back of your throat again, and he clumsily pushes your hair behind your ears as you suck eagerly on his cock.

It's so overwhelming, it's so much, it's more than he thinks he can take when one of your hands reaches up to grip the base of his cock, stroking in tune with your mouth, while the other massages his thigh, willing his legs to spread even further apart. But it feels so fucking good, Aki can't help but melt into you.

“God,” he groans through heavy pants, “You take me so well, p-please, don't stop.”

The way your hand glides up and down his cock along with your mouth is making Aki forget how to think straight. He feels dizzy, he knows he's getting close to the edge, and if he lets you keep going, he's sure he won't be able to stop himself from cumming. He grabs your wrist firmly — a silent demand to halt your actions — and he catches his breath.

In compliance, you freeze, and Aki slips his hand up to hold the side of your face, to cup your cheek and slowly coax you up while he leans down.

“C'mere.”

He pulls you into a fervent kiss, you press your palm to his chest and push him back into the seat until you can straddle his thighs and settle into his lap.

Aki can taste himself on your tongue; it makes him feel high, but as you lift your hips, grinding your clothed cunt against his length, getting your underwear soaked and filthy and making Aki moan into your mouth, he suddenly stops you. He reaches down, he grabs your waist and causes you to freeze, pulling away from his lips, a confused expression on your face.

No, no more. He needs you right now.

“I… I want to cum with you.” Aki admits, breathing hard, “I need to be inside you when I cum.”

You nod with a gentle smile. “Okay. Of course.”

You follow Aki's lead when he brings his palm to the small of your back, guiding you to twist and lay down in the backseat. The space is cramped, your head is propped up on the door, Aki has to slot his knee between your legs to make room for himself. The tight space makes it feel like he's even closer.

Condensation has formed on the inside of the windows from the heat of your bodies. Aki cranes down to meet your neck. Your breath hitches at the first touch of his lips on your skin, right on your nape, and then down, his open mouth wet and warm on the flesh below your collarbone.

“I’m gonna take your underwear off, okay?” he whispers softly without pulling away. You nod, and you lift your hips up slightly to allow him to pull down your lacy underwear. He tosses them to the side while he continues to leave gentle kisses on your chest.

“Spread your legs open for me.” His words are like warm honey, sweet and dizzying when they drip from his lips to meet your ears.

You obey, spreading your legs eagerly, as wide as the small space in the backseat will allow. Aki’s eyes grow dark with lust when he pulls back and sees your pretty pussy glistening in the low light, soaking wet for him — like a blooming flower, filled with sweet, sticky nectar.

He grazes his fingers up your dripping slit, he sighs the moment he feels your slick drip out onto the digits.

“God, you're so wet,” he croaks out, slightly breathless. His head dips, bangs hiding his face, and he tries to compose himself. “I'm gonna put one in.”

Then, Aki is slowly pressing a finger into your tight walls, sinking it in all the way and curling it into your core, causing you to whine and arch your back, your chest pressing up towards him. You wrap one arm around his shoulders, and you grip his arm with the other, your hips bucking up as another finger teases your entrance before sinking deep inside.

Your mouth falls open, your brows pinch. Aki kisses your forehead, he tugs you closer and leans down to brush his lips over your neck.

“Feels good,” you whine, and Aki delicately rubs your clit with his thumb, sighing when he feels your walls clamp around his fingers.

“Yeah?” He kisses your neck messily, curling his fingers into you deliciously.

“I’m close, I'm close-”

Your thighs close around his arm, and Aki slows his pace for just a moment.

He asks, “Do you want me to stop?”

Immediately, you shake your head, you plead for him to continue. Aki kisses your neck once more before he brings his lips to your ear, he presses his fingers into your sweet spot while toying with your clit, whispering honeyed words into your ear.

You're so pretty, you gonna cum for me? Go ahead and cum, baby, I've got you.

You tip over the edge just as he eases a third finger into you. You chant his name, your thighs shake and he drags his soaked fingers out to messily rub your clit through your orgasm with quick flicks of his wrist.

Aki kisses you as you come down; it's like time is frozen, like it's just you and him stuck in this moment. Your lips melded to his while you breathe life into him, yet at the same time, take his breath away with each kiss you give to his lips. He only pulls away to catch his breath and briefly bring his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean.

“Hold on,” Aki reaches down onto the floor, searching for his pants. When he finds them, he fishes his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out a silver condom packet.

“What?” You prop yourself up on your elbows, eyeing him up and down. “Since when have you started carrying those around?”

Aki replies matter-of-factly, “Since we started dating.”

You smirk. “We have plenty of those at your house, you know. Thought you didn't want to have sex in public.”

“Oh, please,” Aki rolls his eyes, “I wasn't counting on using them for something like this. It's just… better to be prepared.”

It's not a complete lie, although, Aki can't deny he was thinking of the two of you getting caught in something spontaneous when he first slipped the condom into his wallet. He definitely didn't imagine this would be the place he'd end up using it, though.

You reach up, plucking the condom packet from his fingers, and Aki glances up towards the driver's seat. The sky seems even darker than before, and the rain is still pouring down, battering the glass and obscuring the view. The windows of the car are slightly tinted, and with this storm, there's still no-one to be found.

You tear open the condom wrapper, and you're sliding the lubricated latex down his hardened cock when Aki turns to look at you again. He settles his much larger hand over your own, he helps you tug the condom snugly on his length.

“So...” Aki starts, and you look up to meet his eyes. “You were planning on doing this without protection?”

He's so perceptive, you can't help but laugh. “Maybe. You're right, though. It's better to be safe.”

Aki's eyes narrow. His expression seems unamused, but the more he thinks about it, the more he considers what that would entail — fucking you raw, the deeper his cheeks redden. Perhaps he should have gone with what you wanted.

“Hey,” Your voice rouses him from his thoughts, “Sit back for me.”

As he leans back, settling into the seat, you climb into his lap to straddle him again, pressing your lips to his. Your palms roam up and down his chest, fingertips tracing the scars littered across his toned body.

His tongue snakes against yours, he kisses you deeply. Your teeth nip at his bottom lip before you detach and kiss his chin, then the edge of his jaw, trailing kisses down his to his neck where you suck beautiful fields of lilac and dusty pink into his pale skin. Aki gasps; his hands drift down your waist, the shape of your hips, and the arch of your back until they begin to knead the soft flesh of your ass.

You can't wait any longer; you raise your hips and grip the base of his cock, running the tip over your wet folds. Aki looks down, he watches, he bites down on his lower lip. Then, he meets your gaze, his eyes glazed over, his expression pleading.

Finally, you align his throbbing cock to your entrance, bringing yourself down halfway, slowly. You feel the fat tip of his cock enter you, you feel it stretch you out. Aki throws his head back, his eyes closed. He already feels like he could cum, just from this. Just from being halfway inside you.

“Shit,” he mumbles, “God, that feels so good, fuck, baby-”

You're both panting, and you've barely even taken him.

Aki cracks his eyes open to watch you sink down on his cock, the length slowly disappearing inside you. He sucks a hiss between his gritted teeth when you settle on him all the way, taking all of him in. Your heart is pounding wildly against your ribcage, your head is starting to spin.

“Too deep?” Aki asks between pants, and you shake your head. A few moments go by, you listen to the rhythmic drum of rain, Aki rubs soothing circles on your back and gives you a minute to adjust.

It feels so good to finally be inside you. Aki breathes in deeply, he groans when your hips shift. You take another few moments to compose yourself before you lift your hips a little, only to immediately drop back down on his cock, causing a low fuck to escape from his lips.

You start bouncing up and down his length, and he leans forward, latching his mouth onto your nipple. His hand gently kneads your other breast. You moan softly, hands reaching up to tug his messy hair out of his topknot, until your fingers can run through the strands and your nails can drag across his scalp, making him grunt and his spine tingle.

“You like that, baby?” you coo, and Aki hums in approval, sending vibrations over your breast. His eyebrows are knitted together, his eyelids are fluttered shut.

He swirls his tongue around your nipple and kisses your breast before pulling away. Your pace is getting a little faster, a little harder. The car is filled with the sound of skin slapping skin as you ride him, and the needy whines and moans coming from both you and him.

“I love it, love it so much,” Aki sighs, “S-So wet and tight for me.”

You grind your pelvis into his, and he grips your waist to help you along. You start to feel Aki raising his hips up from the seat. Ever so slightly, at first, just trying to feel you a little deeper. And then, desperately — he's matching your rhythm and rutting up into you, fucking you as you ride him with needy whines and fragile gasps.

His expression already looks so fucked-out: his pupils blown, his lips parted, hair down and messy to frame his face. He's practically drooling.

“That’s it, baby,” you purr as Aki thrusts up into you again, moaning from the pleasure. “Show me how much you like it.”

“Ngh — fuck.” Your words only seem to spur him on more. Aki digs his nails a little harder into your hips, he shakes his head to get his messy bangs out of his eyes.

“Oh, yes.” you moan, gripping his broad shoulders to steady yourself, “Right there, please, right there-”

Sweat drips from his forehead, droplets cascade down his chest. He's fucking right into your sweet spot, to the point where you hardly have to move, you just let him thrust into you. Your ass is slapping against his thighs. Aki kisses your cheek before grasping your chin between his fingers and pulling your mouth onto his.

The kiss is a wild clash of tongue and teeth, but you break away almost as soon as it begins, crying out when Aki buries himself into you hard. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, gasping over and over again in pleasure.

Suddenly, Aki's pace starts to slow, he's holding you still and trying to catch his breath. His thighs are twitching, and his heart is pounding, it's so loud he can hear it in his ears.

“Not… not gonna last much longer like this,” he mumbles, and you sit up to meet his eyes. There's an earnest, loving expression in the back of his gaze when he asks, “Can we change positions?”

You don't answer, still catching your breath, but you nod your head. Aki rubs your hips, he lifts you and pulls out of you slowly, he kisses your jaw and your throat. You feel his arm curl around the small of your back, and he gently maneuvers your body until you're under him, your back laying flat against the seat. The leather is cool and smooth on your skin.

Aki takes in the sight of you for a few moments, his eyes scanning your form. He admires the way you're splayed out beneath him; so beautiful, so angelic, as you always are. This time, though, it's a little different. It's a bit different to see you here, to have you in a place like this. It somehow manages to be exciting, but just as intimate as when he has you in his bedroom at the same time.

He can't hold back from telling you in a sweet voice, “You're beautiful. So beautiful.”

He closes his eyes, he listens to the drum of the rain for a second. Then, he grabs your waist, squeezing it carefully to let you know he's continuing, before lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance.

Aki is incredibly gentle when he enters you again, like he’s handling glass, easing inside of you slowly. But once he's halfway in, everything is so hot and wet and tight that he's nearly on the verge of losing control, he has to resist the urge to just fuck you senseless.

He exhales a shaky breath, you watch as his eyebrows furrow and God, it's so good, he's about to bottom out and it's such a snug, tight fit but it's just so right. All you can do is wiggle your hips and sigh feebly under the pressure, with Aki's forehead pressed to yours as he fills you.

He places one of his hands on your side, while the other grips your leg from where it's falling off the edge of the seat. He tosses it over his shoulder, he buries himself into the hilt.

“So good, Aki...” you gasp, your voice breathless, desperate. Aki leans down; his tongue flicks over your earlobe, he takes it between his teeth and sucks. His palms roam your body, gliding over your stomach and your sides. He kisses the shell of your ear, his warm breath fans out over it.

“God, please.” Your head tosses back, and you're begging for him to give you more, only for Aki to ignore your pleading.

Your arms wrap around his neck, and he kisses down your jaw, your neck, your shoulders. His lips reach your breast, he gazes fondly at the pretty shade of your skin before brushing his lips over your nipple. He licks it with the flat length of his tongue while he reaches down, bringing a free hand between your legs to rub soft circles over your clit with his thumb. You feel a wave of bliss twist up your spine, your cunt tightens around Aki's thick cock and his whole body shudders.

A shaky moan comes with your next words: “Aki… stop teasing. Please.”

You wiggle your hips, you whine and grip his shoulders tightly as he continues to kiss and suck on your breast, humming softly.

“Need you to fuck me, now, please, Aki?”

A ghost of a smile forms across Aki's face. He pulls away from your chest with a quiet pop, glancing up to meet your gaze. He mumbles, “You sound so cute… you want me to move, right?”

He rewards you with the slightest thrust of his hips, rutting himself into you, just a little bit. It's enough to make you gasp, to make you grip him tighter and tangle your fingers in his hair.

He knows you want him to move, he just wants to hear you say it.

Face warm and with your eyes screwed shut, you murmur his name senselessly, over and over again like a prayer, a plea. You mutter please, please, please again and again as Aki's lips ghost over yours, and then press to the side of your throat, where he kisses and lightly nibbles, leaving impressions of his teeth.

He tries to hold out, he tries to tease you as much as he can, only moving slightly, just enjoying the feeling of being buried deep inside you and the sound of your pretty voice. But it's hard to resist you, especially when you're begging for him. He longs to give you everything you ask for.

“Alright,” he murmurs, voice soft and gentle, “Since you asked so nicely, I’ll give you what you want.”

Aki rests his head on your shoulder, and as he presses wet, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbones, he quickens his pace, thrusting into you with deep, languid rolls of his hips. He reaches for your hands, pinning them above your head and threads his fingers with your own, holding them tightly.

He pulls back and meets your eyes; your gaze flickers over his and you watch his brows furrow from the building pleasure. Then, Aki leans in, all the way until he's kissing you and his tongue is slipping past your lips.

He begins to drill himself in fast, thrusting himself eagerly into you with long, deep strokes. The small space of the backseat causes his body to press up close to yours, and the perked buds of your nipples graze against his chest with every abrupt movement. Aki screws his eyes tightly shut, he lets go of your hands to hold the sides of your face as he kisses you. He focuses on the way your nails rake over his back.

He kisses you leisurely, deliberately, as if he's trying to capture every inch of your sweet taste on the tip of his tongue. You whimper into his mouth; his cock is hitting the spot that always makes you melt, it's causing you to arch your back into him. His tempo doesn't slow, nor does it falter. He continues to pound into you, hitting that perfect spot and causing all your nerves to light up when his pelvis grinds into your swollen clit with each of his thrusts.

His hand steadies on the curve of your hip, he keeps the connection between your mouth and his as his palm trails lower, further downwards until it reaches the warmth of your cunt. You're soaked with both of your desires, your clit feels slick on his fingertips when he toys with it.

You grip him tightly, clutching onto him as if your bearings have been thrown and he is the only thing in this world that can keep you grounded — a solid rock amongst the heavy waves. You find sanity in the taste of his tongue, and stability in your hands grasping at his shoulder blades. He's close, so close.

He pulls away from your mouth, his warm breath mixes with yours, and you immediately gasp, “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

Aki responds with a deep groan, his voice husky. “I won’t baby, I’ll give it to you as much as you want.”

He leans down, kissing the tip of your nose. And then, his tongue presses to your neck, he licks a long stripe up your skin, eliciting a stuttered whimper from your lips. Aki leans his head on your shoulder, he sighs into your nape. It's so cute, it's so sexy that you want him so badly. You're begging desperately under him, when moments earlier you were the one teasing him, like the little minx you always are.

You're always like this. You can tease him as much as you'd like, but he knows how much you need him. That's why you had him fuck you here, without being patient enough to wait for the two of you to get home.

The rain is just as steady as it was when you began. It overpowers the echo of Aki's skin hitting yours, it's a quiet sort of lull that soothes you the moment the sound fills your ears. Everything feels slow, warm and sleepy and tinged with electricity. Is this how things always were with him?

You reach for his face, you cup his cheeks and get him to look into your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, I love you so much.” Aki responds immediately, breathlessly, and he slows down the rhythm of his thrusts.

In this beautiful instance of time, nothing matters, absolutely nothing but you.

You take him into your broad oceans of adoration, care, and unadulterated love. You sweep him out into your calm oceans and away from the rocky shores which expose the jagged edges of his past, a life already lived, that still manages to cut at his bones, that still digs deep into his sanity and claws at the worst of him.

Right now, you look heavenly, your hair splayed out onto the dark, leather seats, the warm light reflecting off your skin. Aki marvels at your beauty; the way the overcast lighting and shadows from outside cast over you makes you glow as if you're a piece of the moon itself, dislodged and sent down to earth to bring the brightest of lights into his life. An ethereal being for him to love and adore, who he's lucky enough to have all for himself.

Slowly, he works back to his previous pace, but his eyes never leave your form, he never stops gazing at you with such adoration and love. Your heart flutters ceaselessly inside of your chest.

Honestly, Aki is so turned on he's starting to lose control of himself. The mere sight of you underneath him, in the backseat of the company’s car, in the middle of an empty street — it’s something Aki couldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams. And yet, it feels so lovely to have you here, so perfect, he just can't get enough.

The simmering pressure that's been building up in him, deep and potent, begins to rapidly pool in his core to the point where Aki is sure he won't be able to hold back for much longer. The coil in his stomach is tightening, winding and threatening to snap. His bottom lip is bitten to hell and back, and his parched throat murmurs your name with a harsh sense of yearning.

Aki looks down at you with a hooded gaze, but he ceases to break eye contact with you. His forearms support his weight on either side of your body as he continues to thrust in and out, following the rhythm that always makes you come undone for him.

Pleasure consumes him, it consumes you, you're joined in the most intimate way two people could become one. The act is sinful, but it's coated in the deep bond the both of you share, it's intertwined with pure love and utter devotion.

“A-Aki,” You sound like you’re on the verge of tears, babbling as you beg, “I can’t, I have to… Aki, please, I-”

You interrupt yourself with a loud cry, tossing your head back as you immerse yourself in the very peak of your euphoria.

“Yeah?” Aki gasps back, fucking you deeply, perfectly, in the way that always brings you to the edge for him.

“Let go, sweetheart.” He's barely breathing the words, he grasps your chin and stares into your eyes. His thumb brushes over your lower lip. “Come for me – Come all over me.”

It’s impossible to say no. Not when his voice is so soft and convincing, so enticing. Not when he's fucking you this good, bringing you to heaven with every deep roll of his hips.

You can barely hear the rain outside anymore. The only thing you can focus on is the pleasure, the only sound filling your ears is the echo of Aki's heavy breaths and his desperate moans. You want to drown in this feeling forever, you want Aki's sweet words to melt into your skin, to brand you with his mark.

The whole car is shaking from the weight of Aki's thrusts as he fucks you into the seat. You're right on the edge, and one more deep thrust throws you over; your thighs shudder, you let go with a scream of his name. Aki works you through your bliss, drawing out your pleasure until the feeling of your walls clamping around his cock has him meeting his end along with you.

He groans your name, his head drops to your shoulder and his eyes screw shut. His thrusts grow erratic, clumsy, he mutters a mix of yes, and, I love you. He spills a warm load inside the condom as your walls throb around him, milking him for everything he has.

The white fades eventually, like lamplight dimming behind a shade. Your vision is hazy, the both of you are a sweaty mess in the backseat, and when you breathe in, it’s all musky and good and sweet, just the scent of sex and the feeling of Aki's body pressed closely to yours, his arms wrapped loosely around you.

After a few moments, Aki pulls out of you, and he pulls you close to him so you're huddled up to him. His heart is beating loudly in his chest, and you can feel it against yours. You breathe in and out, deeply, trying to steady your breathing. Aki does the same. Your hearts sync up to the same steady rhythm.

The afterglow begins to settle into Aki’s bones. His mind is a complete haze of pleasure, and the only thing on his mind is you, you, you. He sits up a little, and he turns to look at you, only to find that you're already staring back up at him with adoration in your eyes.

Aki stares into them for what feels like an eternity, stretches of time that must only be mere seconds, but feel like they've continued on for decades, horizons far beyond this unfairly short lifetime. Your gaze is his solace, his home. He knows he's too far gone.

When he says those three words again, it feels greater than the first time, more than the second. As if with every new time he confesses his love to you, the truth of it engraves itself deeper into his being.

Aki breathes, “I love you.”

You smile, you lean in and kiss his shoulder. “I love you too, Aki.”

Aki nuzzles your forehead weakly. He gives the two of you a few more moments to regain composure, and then he pushes himself up, discarding the condom and collecting both of your clothes. He helps you get dressed, he tugs his clothes on and adjusts them so they're just as neat as they were before. You hand him his hair tie as you finish buttoning up your shirt, and Aki ties his hair up before climbing into the driver's seat.

The rain has finally slowed down to a soft drizzle. Thankfully, when you climb into the passenger's seat and scan the road, you don't see anyone on the streets. You lean your head into the headrest, finally feeling the fatigue of the mission and the previous activities from earlier take over.

Aki looks towards you. He makes sure you're alright, he reaches for the keys and turns them in the ignition, firing up the engine.

You meet his eyes. One of his hands grips the steering wheel, and the other reaches for yours. He brings it close to his face, he presses a kiss to your knuckle. He lets go and settles his palm onto your thigh.

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

a/n: pls forgive if you see any errors, dumblr likes to fuck up my posts for some reason.

#creaming in my pants when i wrote this #watch me not post for months again after this #feels good to put something out once in a while though #aki x reader #aki smut #aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa smut #csm x reader #csm smut #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man x you #chainsaw man smut #aki x you #aki hayakawa x you #hayakawa aki x you #hayakawa aki x reader

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gffa · 2 months ago

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Hi, I was wondering if you had any jedi oc centric fic recs? I've had cravings recently and your recommendations always manage to scratch an itch

Hi! Ooh, this is an interesting trope but I suspect I'm going to need a little help here, so I'm doubly asking anyone who might have Jedi OC-centric fic recs to jump in! But I can also get you started! I tend to read fic that usually has the canon characters in a central role as well, but searching through my recs, I believe these ones should also be centered on the OCs enough to scratch that itch: ✦ Lucida by markwatnae, obi-wan & oc & anakin & ahsoka & bant & feemor & satine & garen & caleb & mace & cast, 75k After the start of the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan Kenobi chooses his second padawan. He meets her by chance, but the Force insists that he take her as his student. This decision turns out to be one that will change the course of the Order's future.

✦ Found Clan by silvergryphon, boba & ocs & obi-wan & anakin & cast, 25.3k wip After the Battle of Geonosis, a Jedi Healer discovers young Boba Fett mourning the loss of his father. Not about to leave a ten-year-old boy on his own, she promptly adopts him with the full collusion of her Padawan.

✦ then leaf subsides to leaf by The_Last_Kenobi, oc, ~1k You are a Jedi, and this is what that means.

✦ No Rest for the Weary by orphan_account, obi-wan & anakin & ocs, 61k Needing a break from life at the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, visit a Jedi AgriCorps settlement on the Midrim planet of Helia. There they encounter new friends, new enemies and have new adventures, all while attempting to navigate their sometimes turbulent relationship as Master and Padawan. [Note: This one is probably going to be the least on-target for your request, as it's probably more an Obi-Wan & Anakin story than it is about the OCs, but I remember the OCs being nicely fleshed out and important in the story, so I'm including it on a chance.] ✦ The Quickest Way by SingManyFaces, anakin & ocs, 1.2k They say the quickest way to person’s heart is through their stomach, something that holds true for the Jedi as well.

I know I'm missing a ton and I love Jedi OCs, I love Jedi worldbuilding through the OCs and I love seeing slice of life or epic action plots or giving a familiar character a new Padawan (GIVE ME ALL THE OBI-WAN & A NEW KIDLET TO TRAIN STORIES!!!), so if anyone has more, gimme! Also, I swear there was a Jedi OC-centric fic that was being posted on a forum somewhere that came strongly recommended from the JA discord server, but I cannot find it again. I think it might have been the spacebattles forum? If anyone has a link, please send it because I want to find it again very much. (For memory, I think it was in its second story and was a couple hundred chapters long and people really liked it...?)

#lumi.txt #star wars #jedi order #jedi oc #fic recs #star wars fic recs

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whumptober · 3 months ago

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FAQ

Please read this post before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Prompts cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? No. We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. Q: Can I start posting early? You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

#whumptober2024 #faq #frequently asked questions #whumptober information #event info 2024 #event info #whumptober

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mirnilop · 1 year ago

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𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ wally darling

⚠ tags: sfw, mob au, yandere!wally, gn!singer!reader, power imbalance, discussions of violence

♡ synopsis: you’d be surprised how many fans you accrue as a small-time lounge singer. while this is usually a good thing, one of yours happens to rule half the city, so he isn’t exactly receptive to the word “no”.

♡ word count: 5,310

⛧ﾐ‧*･ﾟ the following content may be triggering to some. please proceed with caution! ･ﾟ*‧ミ⛧

a/n: hello!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ goshh, my very first post on this acc!! i haven’t posted fanfic in a hot minute but i’m suuuper excited to get back into it!! 💞 i have sooo many wips for this fandom, it was difficult to choose which one to finish first! credit to @/clownsuu for creating the au and for the lovely art!! i tweaked the concept a wee bit so that it takes place in a roger rabbit-esque world where puppets and humans live together unharmoniously (with a jessica rabbit inspired reader ofc >v>). it was a lot of fun trying to marry wally's canon personality with a Scary Mob Boss (*´ 艸`) i can't wait to post more!! what are y'all's favourite aus? let me know!! ･*･:≡(　ε:)

There’s a rose on your vanity.

The sight of it snuffs out your high spirits, irritation igniting in its place– and it was such a good day, too! You and the girls were perfectly in sync for your entire performance, bolstered by the unusually affable audience; you even rewarded them with a sneak peek of new material, which made them go wild!

Dreams of stomping it beneath your heel stew in your head as you drop it in the faience vase at the rim of the mirror, where a crinkled, beige-tipped rose droops against the rim. Why not break the vase too? An idea that’s crossed your mind too many times, and while it gets harder to resist with each flower, you endure it. They’re presents, after all, and you doubt your admirer would take kindly to the news that you’ve trashed them. You’re certain one of his minions would obtain the evidence, if not witness you do it; you can’t pinpoint the extent to which they survey you, but the crawling sensation of eyes on your back crops up often, and obviously they have no problem barging into your dressing room to play delivery service.

Sighing, you comb through your rolling rack to pick a suitable outfit to change into. Most of the articles hanging are also gifts, but you’ve made sure to keep some of your own hard-earned clothes here out of sheer spite. A burgundy cashmere number has just slipped into your grasp when the door bursts open.

“How’s that for a show?! And what a great crowd, a whole buncha dolls! Or– well, puppets– and humans! Hahaha!”

Lottie skips in with her usual energy, the bell on her collar jingling alongside the clack of her Mary Janes. You hate that their manager mandates the bells as a part of their costumes, as if puppets being treated like second-class citizens wasn’t enough. “You wanna make money or not? It’s part of the appeal! You know, Mary Had A Little Lamb and all that!” is what he told you after one of your countless tirades regarding his treatment of them, but the sleazy smirk wrapped around his cheap cigarette allowed you to read between the lines. As much as you despise that man, it’s not your business to judge the trio for staying contracted with him. Mottie’s recalled to you how difficult it was to hire a manager at all, and you suppose you have to (begrudgingly) thank him for bringing them into your life, since he’s the one who bagged them the backup singer gig.

A swell of color in your peripheral lets you know that she’s come near, but you don’t bother diverting attention from your search. This is such a common occurrence between you two that pleasantries are no longer required.

“And they were mighty generous with the tips! So me and the gals was thinking we should go somewhere to… celebrate…”

Hearing her trail off, you turn to find her staring at the new rose, her once-perky ears fallen limp. You click your tongue, remorse prickling your heart, though you’ve done nothing wrong.

“I’ll be alright, Lottie. Here,” You grab a wad of bills from your personal tip jar and fold them into her hand. “You take your sisters somewhere nice, my treat. As an apology for having to skip out tonight.”

When she doesn’t move from her spot, merely pouting at you with big, glistening eyes full of concern, you swaddle her in a hug. Fleecy strands of shell pink hair tickle your nose as she nestles her snout into your shoulder, squeezing you like a lifebuoy. Having her in your arms is a vital reminder as to why you continue to put up with everything. Lottie, Dottie and Mottie are your beloved friends– your family when you had none– and you are willing to do whatever is necessary to build a life with them.

“Are ya sure?”

“Positive. And if that bug gives you even a whiff of trouble, you come get me right away, got it?”

She laughs, the sound a balm to the ache of your worries. “He never gives us any trouble– n’fact, I haven’t heard ‘im say a single word!”

“Good. At least one of them has manners. Now go have fun!”

After a few more hugs and a promise to relay your apology to her sisters, she trots towards the entrance. Halfway through it, she pauses.

“Promise ya’ll play nice?”

An involuntary grimace twists your face, which you smooth immediately.

“I was planning on it,” you concede, earning an exhale of relief from Lottie.

“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kinda worried...” She leans against the doorframe, gaze trained on the checkered floor. “I see more and more of that Napoleon-wannabe’s goons lately. Do ya think he’s gettin’ antsy? It’s been real quiet since that incident with Dorelaine.”

Ah, the incident. It happened a handful of months ago; he refused to go into specifics, but what you’ve gathered from his gnomic recount and various news stories is that their rival organization– led by Ronald Dorelaine, a human man– planted explosives somewhere important, racking up thousands in damages and dismembering several puppets, left to be mended with those horrific stitches. You didn’t receive another rose until several weeks afterwards.

“I can’t be sure,” you admit. “He doesn’t tell me much about the goings-on of the ‘family’, not that I care to know. But I noticed he’s been more wound up lately… maybe they’re going to retaliate?”

A visible shudder travels through Lottie, and she tosses her head as if to ward off the gravity of your predicament. It was easier to ignore the implications when there wasn’t an active turf battle.

“You’re right, we should stay as far as we can from that nasty business. Wear the red, then. To butter ‘im up a little.” She offers you a conflicted half-smile, most likely holding herself back from proposing a makeover, before sidling out the door.

Glowering, you follow the advice, shucking your tight, shimmering stage outfit for the cozy cashmere you were eyeing before. Like I need to be reminded of his favorite color. I’ve practically lived in red since I met him. It inexplicably fits like a glove, as do all of the clothes you've been bestowed; for the sake of your sanity, you prevent yourself from delving too far into that subject.

As you fix the little bits of your appearance that got mussed up during your performance, you can’t help but contemplate hiding in your room until morning, even though you know it wouldn’t work– and you’d have to pay for a broken front door. Once every speck of lint has been removed and your ensemble is flawless, you steel your resolve with a hard look in the mirror. If things go south, at least you’ll make a gorgeous open casket.

You step into your shoes and out of the dressing room, swiping your bag and a matching hat from the plethora that dangle on knobs affixed to the wall along the way. The haze that eternally permeates the lounge envelops you as you walk, no longer springing tears to your eyes like it did so long ago, when you were a starry-eyed fledgling. Upon entering the foyer, you call out to the owner, Gene, who’s counting the register behind the bar.

“Hey, I’m heading out!”

“Geez, you’re in a hurry! Got a hot date or what?”

“Something like that,” you breathe, your nerves relighting tenfold now that you’re so close to the outside.

“Ahh, I getcha.” His amusement is clear, construing an innuendo within your words that is absolutely not there, but you’d rather die than clarify. “You did a great job today, you deserve it!”

Somehow, your admirer has managed to limbo directly under Gene’s nose; thus far he’s made no indication that he’s aware he has a very important patron. For a moment, you observe him, and see how he absentmindedly rubs the pocket of his button-up– where a polaroid of his two children is safely tucked away– and you decide that it’s probably for the best.

“Thanks, Gene. Have a good one.”

“You too!”

His reply barely reaches you as you cross the threshold from the comfort of your work into the cold, pensive night. A luckier soul may have suffered a fright when greeted with the colossal figure standing below the street light, carved with shadow, but it’s a familiar sight to you now. An inconspicuous black car is parked behind him.

“Hi Howdy.”

“Evening, Mx.” He bows slightly, whisking open the sleek passenger door which you reluctantly slide inside.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I do have a name.” It’s true. Being addressed formally by such an important figure imbues you a with a sick feeling, like he’s won, and you’ve already been initiated into this fucked up institution.

Though he waits for you to finish speaking before shutting you in, he doesn’t grace you with a response; not that you were expecting one. In all the times he’s escorted you to these duress-dates, as you’ve taken to calling them, he’s remained stoic to a mechanical degree, acknowledging your presence and nothing more. Thrashing, crying, screaming– you’ve tried everything to escape, and have never elicited a reaction more severe than that of a tired parent handling a tantrum. If you resist, he simply manhandles you. It’s hardly a fair match, with him having 4 arms and several feet of height on you, so you opt to reserve your energy for dealing with his headache of a boss.

When he hauls his many limbs onto the driver’s seat, the car lurches, too small to accommodate a puppet of his stature; he has to hunch forward to see the windshield, antennae pushed flat. You lean back and vacantly turn towards the window, wondering if cars big enough for someone like him to drive comfortably even exist while the engine rumbles to life.

The umbrous cityscape passes you by, inklings of humans and puppets flashing in and out of the darkness like ghosts. Thick boughs of red and green tinsel are strung across a few lamp posts, but by the end of the season they’ll all be covered. Dottie’s already triple checked that you and her sisters have one day of the annual Christmas market off, even though you strike the same deal with Gene every year; the four of you get Saturday, then he gets Sunday to take his family. It’s one of your favorite times of the year, if only because you get to experience the aura of wonder that enlivens Lottie when the first snow falls, Mottie’s timid wheedling to attend The Nutcracker, and Dottie’s alphabetically-organized checklist of fun winter activities.

Those cheerful thoughts are wiped away as Howdy turns into a private garage attached to a sleek, angular skyscraper. He parks in the spot nearest to the entrance, the first in a row of spaces labeled with metal “Reserved for Staff” signs, and circles the car to let you out. The sensation of him gingerly lifting you comes with no alarm; he always assists you up the concrete stairs leading to the elevator, as if you’re so physically inept you can’t handle 3 tiny steps. You assume his needless precaution is for the same reason he hasn’t beaten you yet despite defying him so often: boss’s orders.

With a reedy knell, the elevator glides open, and Howdy signals for you to go ahead. Once you’re both inside, he inserts a key and presses the button for the uppermost level. Expecting a noiseless ride, you tune into the low muzak emitting from the speakers, which makes you miss the first time he calls you.

“Mx.”

Startled, you swivel towards him. His steadfast profile is unreadable.

“Boss doesn’t know you’ve opposed him so vehemently in the past. Please keep that in mind tonight.”

The entrance broaches before you can interrogate him as to what the hell he means, granting you entry to a luxury penthouse laved in gold, ivory, and– of course– red. A glimmering chandelier suspends from the ornamental ceiling, bathing the antique furniture in an amber glow. If you hadn’t just ridden up the elevator, you would have assumed such a lavish drawing room belonged to an old mansion.

It’s something straight out of a romance novel, except instead of a chiseled, broody Italian, it’s a short puppet sitting at the marble-topped dining table. He lounges at the head in a slate blue silk suit with its jacket buttoned to the top; an honor seemingly reserved solely for you, because it’s the only way you’ve seen him wear it, despite street tales describing the way it billows from his shoulders as he stalks the town. Revealed by its plunged neckline is the collar of a white dress shirt embossed with rainbow pinstripes, and a red ascot neatly tied and pulled askant around his throat.

Wally Darling, in the felt: kingpin of The Neighborhood, and resident thorn in your side.

When you arrive, he rises to meet you, dismissing Howdy with a pointed glance; you’ve learned that the relationship between a crime lord and his loyal bandog transcends language. You watch him as he leaves through a pair of swinging doors to the left, his cryptic advice-slash-warning heavy on your mind.

And so, you find yourself alone with the most dangerous man in the city– puppet or otherwise.

“Good evening, dearest. I hope my gift found you well.”

The concept of personal space might as well be Greek to Wally, since he hasn’t once respected it from the day you had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. He crowds so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face, the heat emanating from him eliciting shivers in your chill-soaked body.

“Yes, thank you. It was quite a lively night,” you chirp, wielding a civil smile.

Although the contours of his wispy, coiffed curls only reach your ribs, he extends his arm to you, which you take with such a featherlight hold that you barely brush his sleeve. Rather than leading you to the dining table like you expected, you’re guided towards a small lounge area to the side, the crackling croon of Billie Holiday wafting over from a refurbished stereo console in the corner. Oh, great. He’s feeling sentimental.

“Would you indulge me with a dance before dinner?”

Don't have much of a choice, do I?

“I’d love to.”

Dancing with Wally is funny, in an ironic sort of way; it certainly caught you off guard the first time he asked. When you envision dancing with a powerful, deadly mobster, you think of being swept away, wrapped snugly by strong arms and a dastardly smirk, or perhaps something more courtly, like a waltz steered by a polite hand on your waist. Turns out both versions are incorrect.

Muscle memory ushers your arms open, and Wally falls into the space in between them– literally. Slack against you, his full weight is heftier than his height would imply, but not physically uncomfortable– emotionally and morally, however, are another story. An air of pure peace washes over him as his cheek nuzzles the underside of your chest, arms limp at his sides; you swear you even hear a little trill. Your face burns, but you say nothing as you begin to sway faintly to the beat, tracing a loop with your feet as you traipse along. Wally follows easily, tethered by the reluctant cage of your embrace.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

The query is felt more than heard, his gentle monotone muffled by the downy fabric of your garb. You huff softly to yourself, rustling a few gel-slick strands atop his pompadour.

“How could I forget?”

The day the infamous Mr. Darling appeared in your club, his two largest henchmen in tow, is burned into your brain like a regrettable tattoo; Gene was off, so you were covering entertainment for the night while the sisters managed the bar and floor. As you were singing the very song playing now, you detected a curious hush that had overtaken the throng of guests, and strained to cut through the stage glare and cigarette fog to locate the cause. Tracking the audience, who were all regarding the bar with varying amounts of subtlety, you nearly dropped the microphone when you saw the broad blue back of Barnaby B. Beagle, someone you’d only heard of in gossip. He gesticulated as he spoke boisterously to poor Mottie, who was as white as a sheet behind the counter. Situated a slight ways away was Howdy Pillar, who stood as motionless as a statue with both sets of forelimbs fastened behind him.

And then you noticed him. A puppet no more than 4 feet tall, but whose oppressive presence commanded full attention. He paid no mind to the (one-sided) conversation between his colleague and your friend– no, he was staring right at you. Boring into you so acutely that you felt pinned, compelled somehow to continue singing until the final note trickled away.

As if a spell had been broken, you leapt from the platform and scurried to Mottie, who stayed petrified even when you tried to covertly nudge her to the side. How avidly you wished a fissure would open beneath their shoes and swallow them whole; but, armed with years of appeasing difficult and sordid customers, you spoke.

“Evening, fellas. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Barnaby, who had stopped talking when you rounded the bar, bellowed a laugh.

“Fellas?! Is that any way to greet the boss and I?"

He tilted forward with menacing glee, propped up by furry elbows as his claws scraped the laminate countertop. Each of his fangs were as big as your nose.

"Dontcha know who we are, toots? Or do ya just need a refresher on respect?"

The acrid smoke from his cigar blew directly into your face, making spikes of anger bubble in your belly as you choked back a cough. Just when you felt composed enough to reply, a surprisingly mellow voice chimed in.

"It's alright, Barnaby."

The shock slacking his jaw mirrored yours, although you hid it under a mask of cool indifference. You dared a glance at Mr. Darling, but the pressure of his peer chased your gaze back to Barnaby, who grumbled as he straightened back up. It was difficult to stay trained on his good eye, but you soldiered on. Fear was not something you could afford to show, and you knew you'd crumble if you peeked at the fabled gaping socket that he stapled open himself.

"I don't suppose you're Gene Clifton, aged 54, father of two, owner of this joint?" He joked, recovered from the flub.

"No, sir, but my banker would sure be happy if I was. Can I take down a message?"

"A message! I love this bird!" Snickering cruelly, he waved a flippant paw. "Y'should try that material on stage sometime, might bring ya more customers than the singing bit."

You sucked a sharp inhale up your nose. Serenity now.

"See, here's the problem. This is family territory, and in return for our protection, we charge a teensy fee. Now, we ain't unreasonable– we've sent ole Gene a few letters. And what’s our thanks for such humble hospitality? Zilch."

Oh dear. Gene doesn't bother investigating any mail the lounge receives before tossing it because it’s typically adverts. He definitely would've noted The Neighborhood's seal if he did. Regardless, the frank abuse of power only fanned your annoyance, obscuring your better judgment.

"What protection? I don't recall seeing any of your members patrolling outside. Besides, we didn’t ask for protection."

Mottie snapped towards you, looking as though she might faint. The corner of Barnaby's mouth twitched skyward, like he was hoping you'd argue, but his boss beat him to the punch.

"We can reach an agreement, I’m sure. I'd hate to see a family establishment go under, especially when they have such lovely entertainment."

Apparently Wally was so smitten that he'd accept your company in lieu of money, and so the agreement (if you can even call it that, since you were coerced) was this– whenever a rose was delivered to you, you'd attend a rendezvous with him. When you returned to your dressing room later that evening, you discovered the first gift of several: your vase.

“I knew because of your eyes.”

The floral wallpaper in front of you shifts back into focus, Wally’s voice shaking you from your recollection.

“Pardon?”

“That night, you drew me in; I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, least of all a petty protection tax. And I knew I had to have you when I met your eyes.” He sounds dreamy, reminiscing as you were before, though his framing of events is worlds apart from your own; he recalls a destined encounter with his future partner, whereas you mark it the day your wings were clipped for good.

“They shone like stars, even through the smog.”

It’s only after he’s finished that you realize you’ve stopped moving, wrapped in an intimate hug like true lovers. A strange mix of pride and disgust floods you at the compliment, stomach flip-flopping rapidly.

He untangles from you, receding so that only your hands remain connected. The newfound distance eases some of your tension, but to your horror, you find yourself mourning the loss of the husky scent of his cologne. Loath as you are to admit it, the bastard smells amazing: a dark, leathery swirl of apples and saffron that you’d buy out if someone turned it into a candle.

“Let’s not delay any longer. You must be starving.”

True to his gentlemanly veneer, he seats you at the table before settling himself. You don’t see him call, but a server emerges immediately from the doors through which Howdy left with a tray of appetizers.

There are two graces you award Wally Darling: his excellent taste in cologne, and his staff’s Michelen-quality fare. Though they adopt the four courses typical of fine dining, the dishes are more grounded, toeing the border between grandma and Gordon Ramsay perfectly. Truthfully, you’re not even sure what to categorize it as; virtually everything is transfigured into a jello, pie, or salad, harkening back to the post-war cookbooks you used to gawk at as a child in your late mother’s library. The yellowed pictures in those books appeared extremely unappetizing, but somehow The Neighborhood makes it work.

It could be because of an illusive member named Poppy, one of the 7 who make up Wally’s illustrious inner circle. She’s scarcely seen due to her fretful and skittish nature, but Wally lauds her cooking and baking skills, regaling you in the past with plenty of kitchen mishaps that occurred when she tried to decompress by experimenting with recipes and was interrupted by their more excitable comrades. If you remember correctly, he once told you that most of the menus in rotation were created by her.

The nature of these duress-dates is wholly dependent on Wally’s mood– if he’s happy, then he’ll gladly chat your ear off about frivolous happenings in his and his friends’ private lives, though he takes care to be shrewd with any details that dive too deep into the murky underbelly lying just below. If he’s unhappy, then they can be utterly unbearable; his mere existence puts you on edge, so it’s exponentially worse when he’s out of sorts, tone curt and glare fierce.

Thankfully, he’s amiable tonight. The first 3 courses march on without incident, and painless conversation flows between the two of you, even if he does most of the talking– you’re not exactly eager to share more than you have to. It’s when the server presents dessert that things go awry.

“Say, how are those triplets you work with doing?” Wally says, spooning at the Bananas Foster. “I haven’t had the pleasure of catching a performance since our mishap a while back. So much paperwork, so little time, you know how it is.”

The mention of both your friends and the aforementioned Dorelaine incident have you bristling reflexively, but you do your best to tamp it down.

“They’re well, overall. Sometimes it’s difficult for them– their manager’s a real piece of work, and we get all types at the lounge.”

“I see…”

He lets out a long “hmmmm”, like he’s reflecting on this information.

“My family has also come upon hard times. It can be… trying, sometimes, to guide my children. Especially now, when we are under unjust attack.” He confesses, wistfully resting his chin on a thread-scarred palm. “Every family requires a head, but what is a head without a neck?”

Unjust my ass. Still, the weird metaphor confuses you.

“A neck?”

At that, his catlike grin only grows. What is he talking about?

“Yes, a neck; that is, someone who supports the head. I care for my family, so it’s only right I am cared for in return, wouldn’t you say?”

Though the phrasing is puzzling, you’re fairly confident you can infer what he’s purposefully dangling in front of you, and oh, it makes your stomach plummet. Sweat breaks out underneath your suddenly-sweltering outfit; it's as if you've been tied to a railroad and have managed to divert the train through pure will for a year, but now it's steamrolling square for you. The anxiety of impending doom renders you mute, unable to piece together a coherent thought.

Taking your silence in stride, Wally leans forward, intense as he grasps your hand in both of his own. The yellow fuzz does nothing to help how clammy you feel.

“What I mean to say is, I think that it’s time to settle down."

No.

“Wh– what? Settle down how?”

“To get married, silly.”

You’re unable to help the gasp that escapes you. No, no, no!

“Get married? You mean– to me?!”

“Of course. I’ve been courting you all this time, haven’t I?”

You sputter, and he rubs your hand as if to soothe you. His many gold rings gleam under the chandelier, teasing a glimpse of your fate.

“I know in the beginning you weren’t receptive to the idea of this life, but I've shown you that I can provide for you better than anyone else.”

Your expression must betray your surprise, because he chuckles– a slow, stilted sound that sends gooseflesh blooming across your skin.

“You thought I didn’t know? Howdy may not have reported it– which I’ll rectify in due time– but I have eyes everywhere, dear. You’re quite the talented actor, though.”

That trademark simper melts into something beguiling; he cradles you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“I love you, and I will take care of you, as I ask you to do for me. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

An inviting facade of genuine affection, so ardent that you almost want to believe it. Wouldn’t that be the easiest path to take? To surrender to the hand that feeds, because where it strangles others, it caresses you sweetly? It’s more tempting than you’d ever divulge, because underneath the armor of aplomb you've so carefully forged, you're exhausted. This burden has been yours alone to bear– and what a bear it is, because if you mess up, the people you love could be injured, or worse. So much worse.

Perhaps sensing an opening, Wally continues.

“Be reasonable. The family welcomes you with open arms! Haven’t you missed having a family?"

The words stab you right through the heart, and your waning resolve springs back tenfold by the fury that ruddies your vision. When you rip your hand away, he makes no move to stop you.

"My friends are my family. I don’t want anyone else, especially not murderers!” You snarl. “You kill people– and torture and maim them! How can you expect me to accept this?!"

"All in a day's work when cleaning up the city, unfortunately," Wally hums. "I wish we didn't have to resort to such things, but you must understand. As it is, puppets are treated as less than, and hardship runs rampant for both humans and puppets alike. You’ve experienced these firsthand.” With the elegance of a master conman, he touches his chest in mock respire. “All we wish to do is provide a safe haven for those in need– somewhere to rest your bones, enjoy a hot meal, and where everyone accepts you as their own. A home.”

You abruptly stand up, feeling like you’re wound so taut that you could erupt at any moment. The mahogany chair behind you tips over from the force, striking the floor with a leaden thud, though the sound is deafened by the blood rushing in your ears.

“Bullshit! You don’t have to start a gang to combat discrimination or help suffering people! Maybe that spiel works on the poor saps you trick into doing your dirty work, but it won’t work on me. The answer is no.”

All is still for a moment as you struggle to calm your heaving breaths, trembling and locked in a quiet stalemate with Wally, who’s as relaxed as ever. Your attention flits from his right eye to where the left would be, if not for the lesion carved from a notch above his eyelid to an inch below, giving the illusion that what lies beneath is impaled.

Oh shit.

The magnitude of what just transpired comes crashing down as your adrenaline flushes out. After playing it safe for months– stomaching unwanted exorbitant gifts, being tailed by his employees, and rousted to innumerous “dates”– you just rejected Wally Darling in the most aggressive way possible. So you do the only thing that might garner you a chance to make it out of this alive: run.

You’re halfway across the room when 4 thick arms suddenly wrangle and force you to halt, a scream ripping itself from your throat out of fear. Can this motherfucker teleport now?! How the hell did he get here so fast?? Thrashing, you throw your head back to search Howdy’s face, desperate for an ounce of the sympathy he’d offered in the elevator, but it is in vain; his stony visage is impenetrable, as though it had never wavered.

“How about you sleep on it, hm? Think about all of your options. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to those little lambs when their adorable shepherd isn’t around to protect them.”

Delicate fingers cup your jaw, making you freeze as Wally stretches up to plant a faux-kiss on your cheek, complete with a small “mwah!”. You scowl daggers at him as he collects your hat from where it flew to the floor, dusts it off, and lovingly places it back on your head before giving you a few pats.

“Aw, don’t be that way, darling. I truly meant what I said; you have beautiful eyes. I can hardly wait to try one on.”

With a snap, you’re hauled over Howdy’s back and spirited out of the room, presumably to be transported to wherever you’ll be staying. Hopefully not Wally’s quarters.

It’s all too much; you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. How else did you expect this to end? You’re not sure. With all of the awful things he’s done, forcing you into marriage is not beyond him. You just thought you’d have more time: to plan, to save up enough money to take the girls and race to the hills.

Tears gather on your waterlines, and the minute your mouth wobbles, they spill ceaselessly. Full-bodied sobs wrack you, the pain of Howdy’s shoulder jutting into your midsection compounding the profound ache of sorrow. All this time, you’ve been trying to fight, but there was no fight to be had; it ended the moment his eyes found yours across the lounge that day.

#🐇 penned #🌈🖼️ wh #feat. some random ocs i made up for the sake of the fic #welcome home #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader #x reader #reader-insert #yandere x reader #i love randomly throwing in ronald dorelaine #cause we have no idea who he is or what he's like #so he can be whatever i need him to be #yandere wally darling #yandere wally darling x reader #welcome home mob au #clownsuu

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jrwi-eldritchstrings-event · 15 days ago

Text

Eldritchstrings Event Sign-Ups Open!!

Hi! Are you looking for some Apothy fun in these trying times of no new Apothesosis episodes? Wanna get together with other toxic yuri fans to make something swag? This post is to let you know that sign-ups are now open for the Eldritchstrings Event - an event centered on Exandroth and Rumi!!

This event is solely being run by @burning-sol (me) and @exandr0th-0f-viscera (my headmate). It probably won't be that large-scale, and we'll be kind of loose with management as we get an idea of what the members involved want from the event in terms of development and a final product. Our biggest rules are to HAVE FUN and TRY YOUR BEST!! If you don't feel like you're having fun, then this event is officially so joever.

If you're interested, please read through everything after the cut, the Sign-Up Form's link is at the end!! Sign-ups close November 16th.

Who can join?

If I've blocked you that's probably a bad sign... Obviously. But other than that, no limitations we can think of! Just know that Xander and I are pro-endo and pro-mspec lesbians; so if that gives you the impression you wouldn't gel well with the group, it's best to steer clear. All we ask of our participants is that they'll...!

Communicate clearly, and consciously try to take others in good faith.

At the least tolerate their cohorts if they can't outright get along with them.

AND, most importantly, they'll reach out to us if there are any issues!! It is no bother and it's actively better for the collective if you're open about anything that may have come up :3

What's the estimated time frame?

Sign-Ups close November 16th! ..however, the time frame for development and publishing will be up to participants to decide - with that process of consultation concluding before 2025.

At the LATEST the deadline for the works themselves will be July 31st, which will leave time for the editors to finesse the final product and publish it August 27th... (the anniversary of the first Eldritchstrings post!) So if you think you could make something by July 31st, even if you're initially busy, join the sign-ups!

If you miss it you will NOT be let into the event late, unfortunately. But no worries, because if the event goes well then there's a high probability another will be held in the future! :D

What contributions are we looking for?

Firstly, anyone who can help with visual design, editing, accessibility and publishing otherwise would be appreciated! There's also room for people who have general experience overseeing events and/or those who would like to help with promotion.

There will also (potentially) be groups, so if all you wanna do is hang around in case a pinch-hitter is needed, you can do that!

In terms of those submitting work to the event, ANY form of art goes! You may want to submit something like...

Fan-fiction, poetry, essays..

Illustrations, comics…

Banners, blinkies, icons…

Moodboards, stimboards, webweaves..

Textiles, cosplay, photography…

Edits, animations, PMVs, AMVs…

Original music, playlists…

Coding, games, 3D works…

Or whatever other weird and unique things you can think of…!

Romantic, platonic, situationship... Angst, comedy, abstract works, complete bullshit… Canon, non-canon, post-canon, somewhere in between… All is welcome so long at it centers on Exandroth and Rumi!!

Our ONLY limitations are that we will NOT be allowing any erotica, and no portrayal of genitalia in terms of artistic nudity! If you are otherwise unsure your work would be allowed, feel free to ask about it!

Also! Works that are exclusive to the event would be super cool, but you can submit older art or continue to work on something from your already existing WIPs if you'd like! The only catch is that you wouldn't be able to resubmit those to any future events... So if you're okay with that, go on ahead!

..and that's about it!

Make sure you've read over this and any relevant posts on this blog thoroughly. Participants will gather in a Discord server, the invites of which will be distributed via Tumblr PMs from this blog. If you're chill with everything stated above, here's the sign-up form!!

-> SIGN UP HERE <-

Note: We will not be personally promoting this event to other social medias, but you have our permission to share this sign-up with Twitter, Instagram, Tiktok, etc!!

#jrwi eldritchstrings event #just roll with it #jrwi #jrwishow #jrwi apotheosis #jrwi eldritchstrings #jrwi exandroth #jrwi rumi #exandroth x rumi #rumi x exandroth #if ive made any errors i apologise i was too anxious to ask my friends to check for mistakes LOL #if ur like 'sol u made this very quick' y...yeah.... well...i just rlly like eldritchstrings okay...............#anyways hope to see u there!!#obv rb to spread the news if u want

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suzukiblu · 10 months ago

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Parasite WIP is so good and I desperately want more of it! I voted for it in the poll and I’m so sad it didn’t win

Friend, I appreciate you asking after it because it really is one of my fucked-up faves that I really need to work on more, so uh . . . have all 4500 words of the prose so far all together, hahaha. Yes, yes I DID reformat this whole thing into Tumblr-friendliness all for you. THAT IS HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOUR APPRECIATION, FRIEND. ( so definitely we are gonna need that read-more down there, lol. )

Clark wakes up.

Clark didn't even know he wasn't awake.

"Superman," Bruce says with absolute neutrality. He's wearing the cowl. Standing in rubble. Clark is . . . not standing in rubble.

Laying in rubble. That's what Clark is doing.

Bruce is looking down at him very, very carefully, and seems . . . reserved.

Reserved for Bruce, even.

"What happened?" Clark asks, trying not to concentrate on the little seed of dread that the sight of that reservation invokes in him. He can hear the heartbeats of other League members, here and there in the wreckage of the street around them. Hear civilians and city noise. Hear Lois and Jon, distantly, and Ma and Pa, even more distant. And . . . Kara–both of her–and . . .

"We'll go with 'electrocution', but I think we can safely say just about anyone else would've been virtually incinerated," Bruce informs him, distracting Clark from his mental rundown of people he's currently worried about. "Or just exploded."

"Ah," Clark says with a grimace. Well, that explains why his head hurts so damn bad, he guesses.

At least it was him, then, and not any "anyone else"s.

He pushes himself up. Looks around. He . . . isn't sure where they are, exactly, except that it's probably somewhere on Earth and within the continental United States, judging by the architecture and signs he's seeing and the accents and languages he's hearing.

He has absolutely no idea how they got here, though. The last thing he remembers is . . .

. . . he's not actually sure what the last thing he remembers is.

Not a great sign, that.

Bruce is watching him. Like he's . . . expecting something, almost. Clark would ask, but there's an odd feeling distracting him. Something's . . . off, somehow.

Missing.

Bruce's utility belt is a new design, he notes absently. J'onn is down the street a bit and his costume looks a little different too. And Diana . . .

Diana is over across the way, and her hair is a couple inches longer than he remembers it being.

Clark would assume he was mistaken, except for the eidetic memory and all.

"Hm," Clark says.

"Hm?" Bruce says. He still sounds faultlessly neutral.

"Trying to figure out if I'm in the right reality. Things look a little off," Clark replies, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes in concentration. No unexpected sounds or scents. No particular feeling of disorientation that can't be accounted for by being apparently electrocuted. No additional pains past the dull pressure in his head or any immediately obvious peculiarities beyond the minor little scattered differences here and there in his teammates.

But something is–

"I can't hear Kon," Clark realizes abruptly. He doesn't usually especially keep an ear out for the kid, at least not deliberately, but . . .

Bruce . . . pauses.

"You can't," he says, very carefully. It doesn't sound like a question.

It sounds like something, though.

"I can't," Clark confirms anyway, glancing around again. He still doesn't know where this is. "Where are we, exactly?"

"What's the date, Kal?" Bruce asks, and Clark's heart sinks.

He answers the question.

Bruce's mouth thins.

Hell, Clark thinks.

"We're currently in Keystone City," Bruce says, very carefully expressionless. "We've been here for three days. The date you just provided me was a full fourteen months ago. And Kon-El has been MIA for roughly thirteen and a half of those months."

Hell, Clark thinks, and doesn't let himself process anything past that.

"We need to get a scan of your brain," Bruce says. "For starters."

"For starters," Clark agrees tightly.

Bruce tells Diana they're leaving, then abandons the rubble and takes Clark up to the Watchtower. Clark goes. He doesn't ask what electrocuted him or who's died in the past fourteen months or if there's anything immediately urgent that he should know. Bruce would've already told him, if there was.

And he thinks he'd choke on the question if he tried, anyway.

They go to the med bay. There's a total stranger standing in it who smiles at them when they step through the door.

"Haven't seen you in here in quite a while, Superman," the stranger observes in amusement, tapping a pen against the clipboard in their hands. "You still haven't been in for that checkup I owe you, you know."

"He doesn't know you," Bruce informs them evenly. The stranger blinks.

"Sorry?" they say.

"He was electrocuted," Bruce says. "Now he thinks it's fourteen months ago. We need a brain scan. Immediately."

"Hell," the stranger says, their eyes widening in alarm.

Clark gets the brain scan.

He and Bruce wait in a convenient exam room for the results, which seem to be taking a while. Bruce seems a bit more guarded than usual, which means Clark is standing next to goddamn Fort Knox right now. He sighs to himself.

"Suppose at this rate I should call and tell Lois and Jon I'll be late for dinner," he jokes wryly as he folds his arms, no real humor in the comment, and Bruce goes very, very still beside him.

. . . hell.

They're not dead. He knows they're not dead, he heard their heartbeats before they left for the watchtower, Bruce would've already told him if either of them were–

"They aren't expecting you," Bruce says with absolutely no intonation whatsoever in his voice. "You moved out eight months ago. The divorce is already finalized."

"Ah," Clark says, very slowly. He doesn't let himself process, again. Not–just, not yet. "What happened?"

"You left them," Bruce says, and Clark . . . blinks.

"I left them?!" he demands incredulously. Leaving Lois is one thing, horrible and impossible a thought as it is, but– "Not just–I left them both?!"

"As you explained it to me, you were no longer interested in maintaining the . . . 'persona' of Clark Kent," Bruce replies carefully, looking just past him. "You said you couldn't stand the screaming anymore. That you appreciated us . . . humoring you for so long, but you couldn't just keep walking around making excuses and lying to everyone while people were suffering and dying just because you had to pretend to be human for a while. So yes. You left them. Haven't visited since Lois finally signed the divorce papers. Haven't spoken to your parents either. You've been . . . erratic. Since Kon-El's disappearance. When we couldn't find him . . . when we couldn't even find out what happened to him . . ."

"Oh," Clark says, and his heart sinks again.

He doesn't understand, though. Kon is–he cares about the kid, obviously. Cares very deeply about him. He's pretty sure he even loves him, at this point. But he's not . . .

It feels terrible to think it, but Clark doesn't understand why Kon disappearing like that would affect him enough to stop being Clark. It's awful, and he still hasn't let himself actually think about it happening at all because he really can't process it right now, but that awful? Really? Awful enough to abandon being any semblance of a normal person? Abandon Lois and his parents entirely?

Abandon Jon entirely?

Apparently, yes.

"Technically you're on unpaid sabbatical from the Planet," Bruce tells him. "We thought you might . . . reconsider, once you'd grieved properly, so Lois pulled some strings with Perry White. He thinks you're having an early mid-life crisis and your co-workers think you're off finding yourself in South America with a bad cell phone plan."

"I guess I don't believe in satellite phones?" Clark says, trying for wry again. It doesn't work, but he tries all the same.

"This is unfair of me, but I'm going to take advantage of your current mental state," Bruce says. He's looking at the wall, though there's nothing there to actually be looking at. Not even anything on the other side, at least not according to X-ray vision. "Try to remember how you feel right now, when your memories of the past year return. Try to remember who you are right now, when those memories return."

"Why?" Clark asks, watching him carefully as he does. The corners of Bruce's mouth tighten. Just barely, but undeniably.

"You've been . . . gone, Clark," Bruce says slowly. "You won't even answer to 'Clark' anymore. You aren't the same man that I . . . that we all . . ."

The stranger comes back before Bruce has to admit to too many personal feelings or Clark can figure out what to say to any of that, which might be a mercy but might also be–

The stranger looks . . . strange, Clark notices. Nauseated, almost. And definitely distressed.

"I haven't done brain scans on Superman before," they say, their grip on their clipboard concerningly close to white-knuckled. "And my predecessor apparently hadn't done any in a while either. Last ones in the system are over two years old."

"What's wrong?" Bruce says, narrowing his eyes. Honestly at this point Clark figures a kryptonite brain tumor would really just be the icing on the cake, and frankly would probably explain some of his apparent behavioral changes and current memory loss. That genuinely makes more sense than anything else, really, even with grief and guilt to contend with.

More sense than abandoning his own damn kid does, at least.

Although a tumor's the worst-case scenario, obviously. And it can't be any worse than that, really, or any worse than anything he's apparently done to his family this past year, so at least he's braced for–

"There's an . . . organism," the stranger says, swallowing uncomfortably. "In your brain."

"What?" Clark says.

"A dead organism, now," the stranger clarifies. "But it looks like it's been there for a while. There are . . . roots. And . . . lesions, too."

"An organism," Bruce repeats very, very slowly. "In Superman's brain."

"Yes," the stranger says.

"I don't . . ." Clark trails off.

"We need more scans," Bruce says.

"I ran it four times on two different machines," the stranger says. "It's organic. It's not giving off any recognizable life signs. It seems like it might've been . . . you mentioned electrocution, before?"

"You think the electricity killed it," Bruce realizes. "And then Superman forgot fourteen months?"

"I'm not sure Superman ever experienced those fourteen months to begin with," the stranger says tightly, gripping their clipboard even harder.

Clark was in no way whatsoever braced for this.

"Fuck," Bruce says.

More scans happen after all. A lot more scans, a lot of specialists, and a lot of arguing. Everything's a bit of a blur, in a sense. Clark absorbs very little of it, and mostly leaves things to Bruce unless he's asked a direct question about his medical history. His judgment might be compromised right now, after all, whether the . . . organism is dead or not.

The emergency OR gets prepped. The red sun lamps get set up inside it.

"Should we contact Lois?" Bruce asks as Clark's shrugging into an ill-fitting hospital gown and preparing himself to possibly die in pursuit of getting a dead who-knows-what out of his brain before it can start to rot there and potentially kill him that way. "Or your parents?"

"No," Clark says. "Just get this damn thing out of my head."

If he doesn't survive the removal process . . .

They don't know what's been going on. What he let happen to himself, somehow.

He isn't going to tell them he's back just to immediately take himself away again.

He records something for Jon, just in case. It's not enough, but it's–something, he tells himself. It's something.

It's all he can bring himself to do.

He leaves the disk with the recording on it with Bruce and asks him to have Dick deliver it, if it's necessary.

Things proceed from there, and Clark wakes up again a week later in a private room in the med bay, connected to half a dozen machines and needles and tubes and directly facing the sun. Diana is dozing in the chair next to his bed. Bruce is pacing at the foot of it. They're both in costume. Clark feels weak and groggy, but he can hear half a dozen other heartbeats lingering in the hall, so presumably they were expecting him to wake up around now.

"Mm," he says. Diana snaps awake. Bruce stops mid-step.

They both look at him.

"The operation was a success," Bruce informs him. "Textbook. Or as textbook as removing a mind-controlling parasite of unknown origins from a Kryptonian brain can get for mostly-human surgeons, anyway."

"Do you need anything?" Diana asks. "Would you like us to call your family yet?"

Clark shakes his head, then closes his eyes and sleeps for another week.

"Sleep", he supposes, counts as something that he needs right now.

The next time he wakes up, he's alone in his room and disconnected from the machines and just feels . . . normal, really. Like nothing was ever wrong at all and he didn't just have major surgery that was, essentially, the equivalent of multiple traumatic brain injuries. His hair is already starting to grow back from where it was buzzed down for the surgery, and there's not even any bandages on his head.

There's no noticeable scarring, Clark observes when he makes it to the little ensuite bathroom to take a look in the mirror. The surgeons told him there probably wouldn't be, given both the methods they'd been intending to use and the nature of his own physiology, but seeing the total lack of proof of what happened to him is just . . . strange, somehow.

It feels almost like a cheat. Like it should be obvious, in some way.

There was a parasite in his head. Something controlling him. Pretending to be him. Passing for him. It could've done anything it wanted.

It did do things that Clark still has no idea about.

So many things.

He couldn't even fight it. Wasn't conscious or aware enough to, or just not strong enough to, or just . . .

He couldn't even fight it.

And he doesn't know what it did.

The door opens. Diana walks in.

"Would you like us to call your family now?" she asks.

"Yes," Clark says roughly, curling his fingers around the sides of the sink in front of him. "Please."

"Of course," Diana says with a terrible and merciless gentleness.

Clark sits down on the lid of the toilet and just . . . cries. Just for a minute.

Or twenty.

Diana kneels in front of him and holds his hands in her own.

Fourteen months, Clark thinks, all twisted up with grief and pain and so, so much regret. He missed so much. He wasn't there for Jon or Lois or his parents. He wasn't there for Bruce or Diana or the League, for either of Kara, for . . .

For Kon. He wasn't there for Kon.

Wasn't there for Kon when the kid needed him.

Kon completely vanished, and who knows if the damn parasite even pretended to help look for him? If it did anything at all for him? Who knows if Clark could've found him, could've saved him, if he'd still been himself at the time?

. . . who knows if the parasite isn't what made Kon disappear to begin with?

It took fourteen months of Clark's life, and Kon . . . Kon disappeared two weeks into those fourteen months.

If nothing else, the timing is a screaming red flag.

Clark abandoned his son and might've murdered a kid who only ever looked up to him, a kid who he was never really able to fully understand but literally named, and he can't do anything to bring Kon back or to make up for the year that he wasn't there for the rest of his family.

Their family.

God, what has he done? What has Clark done, and did Kon die feeling afraid or shocked or terrified? Did he die feeling betrayed? Did he think it was Clark doing it, however it happened?

Did he die thinking Clark wanted him to die?

Clark doesn't even know what happened to his body.

There won't be another resurrection.

Clark chokes. Diana squeezes his hands. He grips hers like a lifeline and shudders through it. The grief is a terrible, ugly thing. It's one of the worst things Clark's ever felt.

The guilt is worse.

"Lois," he murmurs finally, feeling like the weakest man alive. "Could you call . . . Lois, please, and just . . . ask if she'll come. I'll explain it all to her, just–could you call her, please."

"Yes," Diana says, squeezing his hands again. "Of course."

"Thank you," Clark says.

He pulls himself together, more or less, and Diana goes to make the call. She comes back a few minutes later and tells him Lois agreed, but needs to find a babysitter first. Clark in no way blames her for not bringing Jon along and frankly is surprised she's willing to come at all.

He's not sure what he could even say to Jon right now.

What can he?

Diana makes sure he eats something, then leaves for monitor duty. Clark tries not to overthink things. Tries not to think too much at all.

He spent fourteen months not thinking at all, though, all of it lost in one oblivious blink, so that doesn't work out all that well for him.

An hour later, he hears the Zeta platform activate on the opposite side of the base, and hears Lois's heartbeat appear inside the watchtower.

Clark exhales, very slowly.

He waits.

Lois comes to the med bay. She doesn't stop to talk to anyone on the way. Doesn't talk to anyone except that stranger Clark still doesn't actually know the name of, who tells her where to find him.

And then a minute or a millennium later she's standing in the open doorway of his room, and Clark is looking at her. Her expression is neutral, and her hair is shorter than it was the last time he remembers seeing her–the last time he was the one actually seeing her. An inverse bob, not shoulder-length anymore. He recognizes the blazer and heels that she's wearing, but not the blouse or the pants. Not the earrings or the necklace, either.

And there's no wedding ring to recognize either way.

Clark wonders what happened to his.

God, but she's still the most amazing woman he's ever seen, and he's still never once deserved a single part of her. Not even a fraction of a part.

Especially not now.

"Kal," she greets, tone just as neutral as her expression, and Clark aches.

"Clark," he says, just a little too abrupt, and Lois–pauses.

"Clark," she amends casually as she tucks her hands into the pockets of her blazer, and if he didn't know her quite so well he wouldn't have even heard the crack in her voice around his name, super-hearing or not. "Never seen your hair this short. I kinda miss the curl, not gonna lie. It has charm, you know? Very boy scout next door."

"I had emergency brain surgery," Clark says. Lois pauses again. Tilts her head. He keeps talking. "Two weeks ago, now. Just woke up again fully today."

"What?" she says, just staring at him. "You–what happened?"

"It's . . . unclear, still," Clark replies slowly. "But as far as we can tell, roughly fourteen months back an unidentified alien parasite moved into my brain and . . . took me over, essentially. I don't actually–I don't remember any of that time. At all. Then two weeks ago I got electrocuted in Keystone and the parasite died. The surgery was to remove its body so my brain could heal from the damage it did without it rotting in there."

Lois keeps staring at him.

"Fourteen months," she echoes very, very carefully.

"I'm so sorry," Clark says tightly. "Bruce told me I left you. Left you and Jon. That I stopped being . . . myself. I can't imagine how difficult that was, or how it must've felt."

"I can't imagine how waking up and hearing that none of us even noticed you were gone felt," Lois says.

"You never do pull a punch, do you," Clark says with a weak attempt at a smile.

"I'm sorry," Lois says evenly. "I should've known."

"No one did," Clark says, then . . . hesitates. "Or . . . we think no one did."

"You think that's what happened to Kon," Lois says, because of course she's already done the math, and of course she's already had the thought herself. Obviously she would've.

"The timing is . . . likely, at least," Clark says. "And really, if anyone was going to see my face and notice that a different person was wearing it . . ."

"You have a point," Lois murmurs. She steps into the room. Clark wants to hold her. He also wants to bury himself in the coldest, darkest place that he can find and never, ever let himself see the sun again.

He doesn't deserve it anymore.

"I'm so angry that I want to cry," Lois says, her voice very distant and her eyes locked on his. Clark can see her hands fisting in her pockets. "I'm so . . . god. I should've known. You never would've left Jon. Not like that."

"Bruce made it sound like the parasite was . . . very convincing," Clark says. It convinced Bruce, who may just be the most paranoid mind on the planet, so . . .

"It was," Lois agrees, still without taking her eyes off his. "But I still should've known."

Clark blinks a little too quickly. Lois tightens her jaw. Takes her hands out of her pockets and leaves them at her sides instead. Clark never thought he'd see them without her wedding ring again.

"It's been–months, I know," he says, hating himself for thinking he even deserves to say this. "For you. But I still . . ."

"I love you," Lois says. "Come home."

There is no possible world in which he could tell her "no".

Med bay makes him wait for another two hours of observation and runs some scans, but then they let him go. Lois waits with him the whole time. She doesn't call anyone or send any texts. Doesn't leave the room. Barely says a word. Hardly even takes her eyes off him, like she thinks if she blinks he's going to disappear.

Clark can hardly keep her heartbeat out of his ears, so he doesn't blame her.

He doesn't blame her at all.

They go to Smallville. Bruce had said he'd send Dick to pick up Jon from the babysitter's and get him to the farm, and as much as Clark had wanted to go straight to him himself . . .

Ma and Pa first, he reminds himself. This is going to be upsetting for Jon–most likely traumatic, once it all sinks in. And definitely disorienting. It'll be best if as many of the adults in his life as possible know what's going on in advance, so he can go to whoever he needs to go to; get whatever comfort they can prepare themselves to offer.

Clark doesn't know how to do this.

He doesn't . . .

They don't take two steps onto the farm before a familiar blur is crashing into him head-on.

"Oh," Clark manages, and Krypto barks excitedly and flies up to lick his face, tail wagging wildly as he jumps all over him. Like he's missed him. Like he's been waiting for him.

Clark nearly cries again.

"Good boy, Krypto," he tells him, quiet and rough. "I missed you too, boy."

He scratches Krypto's ears. Strokes his back. Krypto nearly bowls him over in delight.

Clark buries his face in his neck and cries a bit after all.

Lois watches.

Waits.

Clark spends . . . maybe a little bit too long crying on his dog, and then they all head up to the house. Ma and Pa are both standing on the porch; presumably they heard Krypto barking. They both look a little bit startled and a little bit confused and a lot more pained at the sight of him, and Clark swallows painfully and stops just before the porch steps.

He looks at them, and he loves them so desperately. Everything they ever did for him, and everything they've ever been to him, and . . .

"I'm sorry," he says. "I just . . . there was . . ."

God, the way this hurts.

"It was mind control," he says. "The past fourteen months or so. I was . . . I wasn't. Wasn't here. Or . . . anywhere."

"Oh," Ma says, and her eyes are instantly wet with tears. Pa blinks very quickly, his hand curling against the porch railing.

"I'm so, so sorry," Clark repeats tightly, his own hands in useless fists. "But I'm–back now. I'm home."

"Oh, Clark," Ma chokes, and then they both throw themselves at him. Clark's been hugged by people with strength far past superhuman, but it's never felt . . .

No. It's never once felt the same way as when his parents do it.

They cling to him. He clings back. Krypto barks again and swoops around the knot of them, wagging his tail hard enough to nearly knock Lois over with the force of wind it stirs up. Definitely some of the porch furniture gets displaced.

Clark feels so much.

They sit together on the porch, Krypto sprawled contentedly across Clark's lap and Lois on the steps beside him. Clark gives Ma and Pa what explanation he can–tells them everything he knows about Keystone and the electrocution and the watchtower and the surgery and waking up. They watch him just as intently as Lois does the entire time.

He doesn't . . . he doesn't mention his suspicions about what might've happened to Kon. Not . . . not yet.

He doesn't know how to. Not to Ma and Pa. Not after he brought the kid here and left him on their doorstep with no real direction and . . .

Just–he'll tell them. He'll tell them soon.

Just . . . not yet.

It's not a very long talk, in the end. Ma and Pa take in everything he says and just take it all in stride, just like they always have. Baby in a spaceship? Kid with superpowers? Son who thinks he can save the whole damn world?

Of course they take it in stride.

Clark loves them too much to even define. Too much to even wrap his own head around. They're the best people he knows. The best people he's ever known.

They don't even think there's anything for him to be sorry for.

It's . . . painful, a little, when Clark realizes that.

Or a lot.

So, so damn painful.

Clark hears the definitely-not-a-Batmobile coming, far down the road. Three heartbeats inside it. Dick, Damian, and . . .

Jon.

Obviously.

Clark strokes Krypto's ears one last time, then gets up. No one asks him why, but he supposes the look on his face must be answer enough right now.

He steps off the porch and goes to wait by the driveway.

It's not that long a wait, but it feels like the better part of eternity.

#clark kent #lois lane #clois #superfamily #bruce wayne #diana of themyscira #rinfic #anonymous #wip: the parasite

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waffledforbreakfast · 3 months ago

Text

Dreams of you - SAE X READER [oneshot]

Sae x Reader , oneshot, angst + comfort(??)

[pt.2 ]

[Kaiser edition (wip)]

[ BLLK Oneshot Masterlist ]

TW: heavy ooc, bad grammar, bad spelling, bad formatting, cringe, scuff, etc.

“I love you, Sae.” “I love you too, [Y/N].” “Please babe. Wake up.”

Sae shot up, cold sweat running down his body. His hands were shaking and his breath was uneven, how many times has this been now?

26. It had been 26 days since he broke up with you. Why was he still having dreams of your first date? Your loving words and tender affirmations, your smile so bright it had engraved itself in the back of his mind.

It had been a month since he broke up with you, and yet every night your warm touch had seeped into the back of his mind, and into his dreams.

Breaking up with you was meant to help him focus. Not the other way around.

He wondered if it would’ve been better if he just didn’t leave.

“Whatever. What’s been done has been done. There’s no going back.”

He took a deep breath, fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose.

The clock read 4:02 AM. Not that he had to check, it was always 4 in the morning that these dreams released him.

Sae wondered what you were doing in Japan, did you have lunch yet? What were you eating? Who were you eating with? Was it your new boyfri-

“Stop.”

Sae hissed at himself, trying to keep his thoughts in check. He would think of you everyday, he hated it. Whenever he saw your favourite food, he’d think of buying you some. A plushie, would you like it? The cats at the shelter, maybe he should send you a pic…

He grabbed his hair, nails digging lightly into his scalp. It was always you. Why must you haunt his poor heart head?

He refused to waste more time on this. He stood up and fixed his bed, a habit he got from you. It was already 4:11, he’d used almost 10 minutes thinking of you again. He clenched his jaw, mentally noting that he didn’t deserve to get himself a sweet treat today, for wasting such time.

But it was better than yesterday’s 18 minutes, right? That’s improvement! Plus, he had trained for 10 hours yesterday as a punishment, so surely it’d be okay to take it easier today, right?

Sae remembered how you used to convince him to take breaks from training with such logic.

He dug his nails into his palm. Enough of you already, he had things to do.

Sae left the apartment, wandering the empty streets illuminated by the streetlamps and the few open cafes/restaurants.

Sae used to blast music through his headphones to mute his thoughts, but it stopped working after he was reminded that you were the one who handcrafted all the very few playlists of his.

So now he just tried to focus on his surroundings, promptly ignoring any thoughts of you.

He’d been doing this for weeks now, did he feel any better? Would he be happier if he fully got over you? Sae didn’t let himself answer that question.

He was well familiar with the area by now, becoming a regular at any place open at this time around here. There was nothing new for him to focus on.

No no, surely there was something. Wasn’t a new cafe opening somewhere? He could’ve sworn someone handed him a flyer about it…

But truthfully, he could barely remember anything these days.

Sae pulled out his phone and looked through his gallery to find the picture of the flyer, pretending to not see the dozens of your photos, which he had deleted and re-downloaded multiple times now.

He followed the map towards the cafe, flipping through its online menu. It seemed that the cafe really was new, almost nothing had been set up online, no images, no menu, no reviews. It seemed to be a small struggling business. Sae almost pitied them. If he was capable of such emotions anymore.

Sae pushed open the door, the small bell dangling above it rang a light jingle, notifying the worker that there was a guest

“Oh hello! Uhm… that door was supposed to be locked, haha…”

The poor employee laughed awkwardly, sweating visible bullets.

Sae turned around to look at the door, the rusted lock fell off the frame on to the floor.

The employee gulped, “So, what can I help you with!” She tried to put on a bright smile, since the customer was clearly wealthy, given his looks, there was no way she’d be able to tell him to get out!

Sae looked around, the place really was run down, was it really ready to open??

“What do you have?”

“Uhm, let’s see… We have water?”

“...”

“uh- hahaha… just kidding! W-we have other stuff too… uhm- dango, milk tea, tanghulu, pudding, anddd milk?”

The worker gave a weak smile, Sae was staring right into her eyes, she felt like he’d jump her at any moment!

“Get me two waffles”

“I- sorry?? We don’t offer those, haha…”

She did NOT remember listing waffles as an option, was the guy even listening???

“Oh”

He was not listening

“... Actually- I’ll get that done for you! Give me a few minutes….”

She headed to the back to get his order done.

Shit. Sae impulse ordered waffles again. He doesn’t even like waffles! It was supposed to be your favourite food, not his. Why’d he do that…

He knew exactly why, but refused to admit it.

What was he even going to do with two of them!? The only option really was to scarf it down…

“Uhm… you’ve been staring at me for a while… is there something wrong?”

“Hm? Oh, I wasn’t aware, sorry.”

The worker gave him a skeptic look, as he was still staring, even after the apology. “This guy must be barely awake…”

“Well, here’s your waffles!”

She handed him a paper bag, with clear plastic on one side so he could see inside. Two warm waffles sat, Sae could feel the heat.

“Could I ask, what made you think we were open? No offense or anything- It’s just that the sign on the door said we were closed, and all the flyers said we’re opening next month… I don’t wanna mislead anyone or anything, haha..”

Sae gave a confused look, did he hallucinate…? It wouldn’t be the first time…

He pulled out his phone to check, and sure enough, “GRAND OPENING: NEXT MONTH” was written in bold. How did he miss that???

“Sorry, [Y/N].”

He mumbled, pulling out his wallet, and putting a few hundred bills on the table and sliding it to the worker, “For your troubles”

“Oh! Uhm, Thank you!”

The worker was visibly taken aback, he had given her $750! If she was in a different situation, she probably would’ve insisted on giving it back, but with the way the store was looking, it would go a long way.

Sae headed towards the door, checking the time

“Uhm sir, my name’s not [Y/N] by the way… you can just call me-”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Sae cut her off. He didn’t really care who she was. Now he knew why he was staring at her the whole time, her eyes looked like yours.

“Barely. [Y/N]’s are darker.”

Sae took a waffled from the bag, taking a bite as he walked home

“What am I doing with my life, I can’t even remember Rin’s eye colour but I know her’s? What curse am I under…”

“Maow!”

Sae looked down, a tabby cat was jumping up his leg, reaching for the waffle bag.

“Maowmaowmaowwwwww”

Sae leaned down, squatting as he opened the bag and gave the cat a waffle.

The tabby ate it happily, it seemed well groomed and clean, maybe it belonged to someone?

Sae pet her head, the cat leaning into his touch with a content smile as she purred.

“How cute, they have the same eyes…”

Sae stood up, dusting himself off. He waved goodbye to the cat and continued walking home.

But the cat followed, meowing loudly to get his attention. She didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving.

Sae looked at it for a bit, hesitating. You had always wanted a cat, you even had names prepared. Maybe one day, when you visit, he could show you the cat and convince you to come to his apartment.

“Forget it. She’s never coming back.”

There was no point in keeping the cat, he was never planning on getting one.

And yet he still stared at the cat, the cat staring back with those eyes that he oh so loved, resembling yours.

Fuck it.

Sae scooped up the cat, and continued walking,

“You’re mine now.”

A/N: Teehee! First oneshot :3 this ones inspired by irl events ;) bc i have a crazy rate of dreaming- (daily. And I can remember 75% of the time, which mean my dreams give me crazy amounts of content LMAO)

Hope u like it :3

#bllk x reader #sae x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi sae #bllk oneshot #bllk angst

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

Text

No Time This Time 10

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You prize order and practicality but your past, and newest client, throw your life into chaos. (older [~50s] reader)

Character: Tony Stark

Notes: Don't even mention how long this update took. I mean it.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like Tony loves his own voice. Take care. 💖

A yellow cab pulls up and the window rolls down. You near warily and the door swings out. Matt sticks his cane out before he steps through, ducking his head lower than needed. He stands and you click closer on your low-heeled leather boots.

"Hey," you call to him, "right here, Murdock."

"Told ya, Matt's fine," he smiles in your direction and waves his arm, hitting his hand on the car door, "shall we?"

"I'm dying for a drink," you eagerly step past him and dip into the backseat.

“Hope you don’t mind, I was thinking somewhere that doesn’t feel like a cult,” he kids as he follows you in.

“Not at all. I’ve been to some dives in my day. Probably the most fun I’ve had,” you click the seat belt into place and sigh.

“I thought you were out of town,” he says as he feels around for the buckle.

“Was.”

“And...”

“Family emergency,” you answer.

“Ah, hope I’m not keeping you from that,” he replies.

“You’re saving me from it, trust me.” You cross one leg over the other and peer out at the city lights.

You’re uneasy. It’s not the spontaneity or even the fact that your mother is in the hospital and you have a thousand things to worry about. It’s more than that. You aren’t read to be back in New York. The glare of a red light twinges in your chest, hinting at the reason why.

“You alright?” He asks, breaking the silence.

“Uh, yeah, jet lag. Sorry.”

“I’ll try not to keep you out too late.”

“Just try to make me go home,” you challenge.

He chuckles and it eases your nerves. Just enough to get through the lull of traffic. He tells the driver to slow down and let you out on the corner. He pays and sidles out.

You follow and he taps around. He guides you to a bar with a dingy yellow sign. The furor from inside beckons to you. It’s somewhere you can fade into the background, even if your tweed sweater might make you stick out like a blackeye.

He tells you to find a table. You do and announce you’ll be in the corner. He assures you he can find you. You can’t help but admire how he moves through the world so effortlessly. You have your sight and can admit you’ve felt lost in the city rush.

You sit and wait patiently. Your phone vibes incessantly. You don’t look at the messages before you set it to Do Not Disturb. Your mother has doctors, the best care you can afford, and your sister can handle a few hours without tagging you in. Whoever else may be bothering you can wait.

Matt approaches with two pints, his can hugged beneath his elbow. You watch him in amazement. He kicks around with his fit until he finds the chair. He puts down one glass, then the other, and his can clatters to the floor. He retrieves it without missing a beat.

He sits by your shoulder and laughs, “I may have had a few before I came.” You laugh at his joke. He leans his cane against the table and reaches for his glass. He lifts it, “cheers. Hope you don’t mind a bit of lager.”

“I won’t turn my nose up at a free drink,” you clink his glass. “Especially with a good looking young man.”

He snorts, “not that young.”

“Oh no?”

“I know what I’m doing,” he affirms and takes a swig. You taste the thin foam. It isn’t the worst brew you’ve tasted.

“I could never doubt your expertise. A young and upcoming graduate. Isn’t that what the paper wrote?”

“It’s been a while,” he evens his tone and turns his head towards you. “You wanna take the edge off and I wanna take your panties off. I think we could make a deal.”

As crass as his suggestion is, you can appreciate his pointed approach. Your cheek burn like they haven’t in years. It’s been some time since a man didn’t make you feel anything but rage or disgust.

“I’m sure we can come to acceptable terms,” you extend your arm and hesitate. Suddenly you’re very afraid. You hover your hand before you make yourself clamp down on his thigh.

He sits back and drapes his arm on your chair as he grins and takes another drink, “you’ll have no objections from me.”

👜

The moonlight beams through the large square window panes, refracting off the silhouette of writhing bodies. The silver glow slats over Matt’s shoulders as he bends his head over your chest and nuzzles between your tits. You could blame the beer or the stress or a number of things but there’s no shame in you. You want this.

A cluster unfurls in your chest. A sensation completely new to you. You’re giddy. This man, this handsome, younger man, hasn’t let up for a single moment. He’s matched your energy every step of the way. The tension chains you together, locking you in the tunnel vision of sheer desire.

It might help that he can’t see you. That even with the sheen of moonlight limning your figure, he won’t notice the rippled lines around your hips and thighs, are the extra crinkles around your eyes.

He slips his hands beneath you and you arch your back as he unhooks your bra. He’s more agile in the release than any man you’ve been with. You could chalk it up to his familiarity with working without seeing but there’s a confidence in his movement that assures you it’s more than that.

You moan and close your eyes as he drags the bra down your arms and frees your chest. Your tits aren’t as perky or tight as they once were. None of you is. There’s a soft layer that covers every inch of you; arms, chest, stomach, legs. His hands worship it as if you’re a goddess in the flesh.

You shiver and hook your hand around his head as he takes your nipple in his mouth. The pressure tweaks and draws another sigh from you. He swirls his tongue around the beaded bud and you clutch his head tighter.

His other hand tickles along your side and follows the line of your pelvis. He brushes up and down as if savouring the feel of you. You run your fingers along his shoulder, muscles hard beneath your touch. He guides your panties down your legs and untangles them from your ankles before setting back to his mission.

He dotes on you, nosing you, nibbling, and nuzzling. He sucks and teethes, groaning as he reaches between your legs. He grazes along your lips and you shake, tensing then easing into him. You comb your fingers through his hair and caress his shoulder as he descends your body.

He kisses along your stomach, goosebumps prickling in his stead. His lip brush along your pelvis and you arch your back with a gasp. Your fingers curl as his soft tresses flow between them. You bring your hand up to clutch at your chest as his breath fogs between your thighs.

He presses a lip to the tender flesh. He trails up to your groomed triangle and traces the crease of your pelvis. He pushes against you with his nose and pokes his tongue out to taste between your folds.

He flutters his fingers up your leg and flicks along your entrance. You twitch as he laps at you long and slow. He hums in delight and encircles your clit with his lips. He sucks and gently rolls your bud between his teeth. You moan louder as he inches his finger into you.

He pushes down to his first knuckle and pulls back out. He repeats the motion as you quiver desperately. He sinks in to his limit and wiggles his finger as he rocks his head. He drinks you up as he draws his hand back again and lines up a second finger.

He delves into you as his mouth enthralls you. You writhe, legs bending, feet arching, breath trembling. You can’t get enough. You put your hands around his head and urge him on. You rock your hips in time with him.

You huff and heave, mewling and moaning. You push your chest up and drone as your climax blooms. Slow at first. Creeping along your thighs and stomach before flooding into your core. You squeal as your defenses shatter.

He wipes his lips along your pelvis and trails over your hip. His breath is shallow as he raises himself on his knees. He hooks his thumbs in the elastic of his briefs and tugs them down. His dick bobs out, rigid and wanting, all for you. He wants you.

You push yourself up on one elbow and reach for him. You pump him as he lets out a startled noise. You toy with him, stroking as you bring yourself up. You roll your thumb around his tip and he spasms. He catches your hand, stopping you.

He reaches for the waiting condom. He stretches it over himself as he gazes down at you. You’re happy you can’t see his face, that he can’t see all of you.

His other hand comes up behind your head and he pulls you into kiss him. You’re reticent as your lips meet. You don’t want that. You just want to fuck but it’s nice. You won’t spoil the moment.

As his tongue pokes along your lips, your chest plucks. Your eyes pop open and you grip him tighter. A memory flickers in your head. He pulls back to look at you and you release him. You shake out your fingers as your knuckles ache.

“Hey...” he whispers.

“I’m fine,” you cup beneath his dick and squeeze his balls, “just fuck me.”

You move on your knees and he sits on the mattress. You climb over his lap as you tease him and rub him against your wet cunt. He frames your hips with his hands and groans. You put him against your cunt and sheath him in your walls. You shudder and clasp onto his thick arm.

He feels along your side and chest as you settle onto him. You keep your face down and eyes closed. He hooks his hand around your lower back as you start to rock, your clit rubbing on his pelvis as you start your deliberate motion.

You slide your hand behind his neck and pull him closer. He buries his head between your tits and slips down to grope your ass. He guides you, groaning and growling as you ride him.

Another strike of fear courses through you and you recoil. Before he can react, you push him onto his back and he grunts in surprise. You pin him with your hand on his chest and roll your hips. You moan through your teeth.

You want this. You want him. It’s not like it was. Don’t think about that. Don’t think about him.

You bite your lip and dig your nails into his muscle. His rocky voice wafts into the air as he keeps a hand on your chest, his other on your thigh. You puff as you speed up.

“Mmm, oh, you’re so good,” he breathes. “Mmm, god.”

“Yeah,” you push your hand up to his shoulder as your other snakes down between your legs, “not too bad yourself.”

“Fuck,” he snarls. “Ah, wow, I... this is... ahhhhh.”

You grit your teeth and roll your eyes back. You play with your clit as the tension builds, coiling around your fingertips, mounting as the friction turns to fire. You babble as you chase your orgasm. You cum but don’t stop.

You have to keep going. You need to cling to this feeling. A rare moment of bliss breaking through the stony sharpness of your everyday existence. The one time you’re not trapped behind that icy wall. You are enshrined in the licking flames of your need.

He cups your ass as he eggs you on, muttering your name between airy moans. You buck hard, clapping down on him even as your bones aches. More, more, more.

You climax again. You can’t stop. You rip your hand away and slap it down on his other shoulder. You keep him at your mercy.

He grunts and lurches you suddenly. He rolls you over and pins you beneath him. He ruts into you, shaking the bed, crushing you into the mattress.

The ecstasy turns to panic as your chest constricts. You claw at his shoulders as your eyelids paint another seen inside. The metal walls of the elevator, the tickle of a coarse goatee, the taunting laughter.

Matt goes rigid and twitches as he reaches his peak. He eases his motion and exhales as he lowers his weight onto you. He rests his head beside your shoulder as you lay limp. You feel the pulsing behind your eyes, that heat that threatens to break through.

Your hand shakes and you touch his side.

“Let me up,” you whisper.

“Hm?” he shifts slightly.

“Let me up,” you demand, your usual sternness taking over.

He slides out of you and pushes off. You’re up in an instant, staggering around the dark and into the bathroom. You slam the door and hide on the other side. You stand in the blackness but can see your shadowy reflection. You growl at it and throw your hands up.

You are not doing this. You’re fine. You’re fine!

You can’t not be fine.

#tony stark #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #tony stark x reader #series #iron man #no time this time #matt murdock #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #avengers

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wangxianficfinder · 3 months ago

Text

Fic Finder

Aug 11th

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1. Hi guys! This will probably I think goes in the fic finder.

So all I remember is wangxian had gotten together, it was post cannon I think? And they go on a hunt together along with Jiang Cheng or maybe they meet Jiang cheng on the way but either ways, things go wrong and the demon slashes wwx's neck and somehow they all fall down a cliff where lwj and jc try to keep wwx alive.

Thank you!

FOUND? The Warmest Hands by AvoOwO (M, 46k, wangxian, JC & WWX, WWX & LSZ & LWJ, major character injury, hurt WWX, blood & gore, heavy angst w/ happy ending, blindness, PTSD, alcoholism, fights, JC & WWX reconciliation, non-sexual intimacy, tenderness, WIP)

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2. Hi! I hope you are doing well. Please help me find this fic. Wwx erased himself and travel back in time. Wwx saw his parent and they have a little bit conversation, such why the couple never had a child or something. I remember there is a scene where wwx ask ‘how do you know I’m your son?’ then I think csr said ‘I always recognized my husband face everywhere’.

Please help me. Thank you!!!

FOUND? This unrolled threadfic by cerbykerby (WIP)

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3. For a fic finder:

It was during an AU version of the sunshot campaign where people thought that WWX and YLLZ were separate people and LWJ had fallen for both. LWJ decides to gently let down YLLZ but realizes that the two are the same person because he played/recognized wangxian. Thank you for all the help you provide

Number three on the current finder “The Scarlet Lotus” is wrong, the fic im looking for was a one shot. Thank you for the suggestion, may read the suggested fic later to try it out

NOT FOUND The Scarlet Lotus by rainbowninja167 (M, 137k, WangXian, Marriage of Convenience, Secret Identity, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical war crimes, Yunmeng Bros, the mortifying ordeal of getting seduced by your own husband, nonlinear chronology we die like cql, just kidding nobody dies in this fic, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication)

FOUND! Found the fic, it’s Lan Wangji and the Love(s) of his Life by baobeibaobae (T, 4k, WangXian, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Kissing, First Kiss, Marriage Proposal, Love Confessions, Happy Ending, Oblivious WWX, Flirty WWX, Jealous LWJ, Courting Rituals, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, JC is a Good Bro). Thank you anyway and have a nice day

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4. Hello! I'm trying to find this fic where WWX was transported into the body of a female Mo Xuanyu and promptly feels dysphoric about it. When LWJ finds him and takes him back to the Cloud Recesses, he helps WWX feel more comfortable and even allows him to change Mo Xuanyu's name into something else. Somewhere by the end of the fic, it's revealed that the reason why LWJ knows so much about "gender cultivation" is because he himself is trans and found ways to help himself transition.

I can't find it anywhere and I don't wanna lose hope in case it's deleted. Thank you for your help!

FOUND! In Reflection, Truth by Shadaras (T, 55k, WangXian, WWX is summoned into a woman's body, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Gore, this is a story about being transgender, Dysphoria, Misogynistic Slurs, Ableist Language, it's not slow burn if it's going to be faster than canon, Trans Male Character, Trans wish fulfillment, Canon Divergence - Yunmeng Brothers Have A Real Conversation)

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5. Hii hope you're having a good day!! I was wondering if you could find a fic where wei ying gets his original body back, completely unrecognisable, and decides to stroll around gusu in lan zhans clothing. People see lan zhan and wei ying together and assume that wei ying is a new consort. They later go together to a conference meeting where everyone gets mad because they think lan zhan is cheating

FOUND? Is Your Old Body Considered a Halloween Costume? by The_peregrine_falcon (G, 3k, WangXian, WWX's original body, Junior quartet makes an appearance, LQR's blood pressure is going up, LWJ is chief cultivator, Fluff, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon)

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6. Hello! I sent in this ff a couple months ago with no luck. Hoping to try again to find it! The fic was set during the Cloud Recesses Lectures era and WWX was cursed to lie. Everyone else mistakenly thought he was cursed to only tell the truth, so when he says things like “I hate you” they believe it. WWX gets really depressed that everyone believes that he doesn’t care about them. The curse is eventually broken when LWJ realizes it is a lie curse not a truth curse. If this sounds familiar at all please let me know!

FOUND! A Kiss of True Love to break a Curse by Wangxian101 (T, 5k, WangXian, Teenage Wangxian, Not Canon Compliant, kiss of true love, curse of lies, truth curse, Angst, Fluff, When the only way to break the curse is to kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Teen Angst, They are in love your honour, Oblivious WWX, Oblivious LWJ, there is only one brain cell in this group and it belongs to JC, LXC is the biggest wangxian shipper, jc is a good bro, Love Confessions, Getting Together, Gremlin WWX, Happily Every After, LXC will gut anyone who hurts his precious little brother, True Love’s Kiss, JC is an awkward bean, LWJ POV, WWX POV, WWX is a closet romantic, WWX loves his romance novels, Protective JC, JC loves his gremlin brother, Unrequited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, it all works out in the end)

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7. About 4-5 years ago I read a fic where WW awoke as a god of luck/fortune/fate after the siege. He ends up saving a-qing and she ends up following him after "fixing" XXC's soul, as well as XY's soul being stuck in a sword. God!WWX also ended up saving MXY too. The fic is also very long. the first couple of chapters are average length, but the last few are between 30-70k each. @annacakes2

FOUND? despite it all by novalotypo (T, 292k, wangxian, canon divergence, god of luck WWX, memory loss, non-linear narrative, WIP)

FOUND? Wuqian, the Local God of Yiling by Grace_ShadowWolf (TaubeLePigeon) (M, 80k, wangxian, WWX & LSZ & LWJ, major character death, canon divergence, angst w/ happy ending, god WWX, Chinese mythology & folklore, pining, temporary character death, WIP)

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8. looking for a fic where jin zixuan is a demonic cultivator? it's an au or canon divergence fic where it was him who got the sword in xuanwu. appreciate all the help you give us <3

FOUND! no step had trodden black by Stratisphyre (T, 32k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, JYL/JZX, canon divergence, madam lan lives, past rape, golden core reveal, hurt/Comfort, referenced to attempted suicide & suicidal thoughts, canon-typical violence) most likely not this one, as JZX doesn't go full modao (or even guidao) in it, but he does certainly pick up the sword and is influenced by it; just in case this IS the right one, tho, JZX's bit comes up in chapter 3

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9. Hi! This is for fic finder. I dont remember much because i read that around 3 years ago. I hope this is not a mix between wo fic. I think its an arranged marriage story between Wangxian. Every month WWX leaves CRRS to visit the wen without anyone knowing but LWJ (i think he noticed) because LWJ make some arrangement that allows WWX leaves anytime he likes. 1 month and WWX still come back. Just like the following months until LWJ noticed WWX is not coming back. I think before that the two of them has a fight (? Not sure about this). LWJ search for WWX and found him. Instead of make his presence known, LWJ follows WWX in secret. WWX noticed of course and ignore LWJ. A few days like that and WWX relenta and calls LWJ to follow him without hiding. Thats all i can remember. I dont know if its an ao3 fic or thread fic. Thank you @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

9 is right. For the first half is right (wwx leave every few months) but not the second half (LWJ followed wwx while hiding). I think i mixed two different fic. But the "Light of Stars (and the Destroyer)" Is the one i meant. Thanks

FOUND! 🔒 Light of Stars (and the Destroyer) by Sanguis (T, 22k, WangXian, Legends, Arranged Marriage, Pining, Pining for your spouse, Adoption, Canon Divergence, Married Couple)

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10. hello! i was hoping you can help me find this fic where jiang cheng finds wwx’s journal in the burial mounds and he ends up experiencing(?) the events there. i read it ages ago and can’t find it. thank you!

FOUND? Waiting On You by SmellsLikeDeanSpirit (M, 26k, JC & WWX, WangXian, WIP, Graphic Depicitions of Violence, Major Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, Memories, Time Travel, Sort Of, the characters watching the show trope but different, WWX has magical diaries that force the reader to experience his memories, JC finds them and reads them, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Bashing, Bad Parent YZY, YZY Bashing, Canonical Character Death, he comes back tho, JC regrets, JC Needs a Hug, WWX Needs a Hug)

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11. Thank you for all the work you do!! I've been driving myself crazy trying to find this fic. All I remember is one scene. At the Jin banquet, Jiang Cheng allows (sends?) WWX to dual Jin What's His Face. WWX obviously trounces him, but nearly has a flashback, prompting JC to pull him back when he realizes that maybe sending his traumatized brother into that situation wasn't the best plan.

It was either a canon diversion or a JC goes back in time fic, but I can't remember which. It was relatively long and it isn't recent.

Ring any bells for anyone? Thanks!! @kirk-spock-in-the-impala

FOUND? Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It) JC went back in time and he realized his mistake about the skirmish like right after it happened. The part that they are looking for is in chapter 2.

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12. Hiii thank you so much for the hardwork you do and I enjoy the fics here. I haven't seen this in fic finder yet. I remember lwj leaving gusu for yiling he brought his own money and it was used to buy food and stuff I think. By the end they sell at the market with kids styling lwj hair and gusu saw this the elders was mad mad with the vanity. Lxc asked for bunnies cause the ones in gusu dissapeared(. Thank so much be well.I wrote this today and there was error if there is two pls ignore 🙏) @ladyxyraine

FOUND? 🔒 Share Your Silence series by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (E, 138k, WangXian, Romance, Everybody Lives, Canon Divergence, LWJ Has Feelings, Protective LWJ, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family, WangXian in Love, YLLZ WWX, Lan Clan Elders are Assholes, Minor Transgender Character, Qiongqi Path Divergence, LWJ loves his bunnies, Explicit Sexual Content, Burial Mounds, OCs, Drama, NMJ Qi Deviation, Awesome WQ, The Wen Twins, Wen JunZhu | MinYue (OMC), Wen YanJeng | MinYi (OMC), Fluff and Humor, WWX Has Feelings, Lotus Pier, mention of non-con roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, NMJ Needs a Hug, Nie clan sabers, baxia, Unclean Realm, Protective NHS)

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13. Hi im looking for a specific fic. The fic was on ao3 and was a modern au where Wei Ying realizes he might be a bit gay and kisses lan zhan but then freaks out, and they get a bit awkward. He then goes on to forums to see what others might think of his situation, he tries watching gay porn etc. and finds that he's dreaming of lan zhan. He ends up being jumped by homophobes goes on a drinking binge for the next few days as a result and hears that lan zhan has been staying in his room and hasn't been doing well, wei ying thinks it's because he kissed him but later finds out he sent lan zhan a homophobic message when drunk. Any help would be appreciated!!! @livesformitski

FOUND? it's always open by ScarlettStorm (E, 60k, WangXian, Modern, vague north american setting, First Time, Getting Together, Pining while fucking, Some angst, Happy Ending, not straight boy WWX but not NOT straight boy WWX, not practice kissing but not NOT practice kissing, that feeling when you know you're making bad decisions but keep making them anyway, LWJ FUCKS, Sexual exploration, demi WWX, not that he knows that yet, Kissing, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, confused but enthusiastic consent, WWX's not sure about all his options but he's got the spirit, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, truly absurd amounts of naked pillow talk, switch rights)

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14. Hi!! Thank you for all you do 🫶

I’m looking for a fic that was on ao3. It was one where I think WWX was brothers with Hua Cheng and Luo Binghe and I believe he was a god or something of higher power and as a trial he was born as the WWX we knew and he went through everything he did in canon. When he died he ended up back with Hua Cheng and Luo Binghe but LWJ couldn’t move on and he tried to find him there?

Thank you for your help!! @bigmeatycl0ws

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15. Hi! Kindly help me finding this fic. Wwx teaches the lan juniors to solve arrays. He makes it diffucult to solve so that he can have time with his husband. I think I remember they was a scene where JL ask the Lans how they can easily solves the arrays and then got jealous when he learn it was wwx who taught them.

FOUND? 🔒 A More Practical Approach by Elhana (T, 9k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, Teacher WWX, Humour, POV Multiple, Implied Sexual Content, when you just want to get frisky with your hot husband but your in-laws crave their peace and quiet, huge conflict of interest right there, WWX is resourceful, wuxia magic shenanigans, Post-Canon)

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16. Hey, this is for the fic finder!

I'm trying to look for this specific Lan Xichen/Nie Mingjue fic where NMJ gets reincarnated as NHS' cousin's son and promptly falls in love with LXC all over again. I can't remember the title and I've been trying to look for it so I can reread it ;w; I think Age Difference was tagged and there's scenes where LXC tries to dissuade NMJ from getting together but in the end they get married and NMJ recovers his memories from his past life.

Thank you in advance ;w;

FOUND? Song of us by Ziane (E, 142k, LXC/NMJ, JC/NHS, Post-Canon Fix-It, Explicit Sexual Content, Reincarnation, Happy Ending, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Soulmates References, Pining, Canon-Typical Gore, Novel Spoilers, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Implied LSZ/LJY, Porn with Feelings)

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17. Hi!! I’m back with another request!

It was an ao3 fic where WWX had left the cultivation world behind because he/she (there was a male and female version I believe) was pregnant with A-Yuan and Jingyi and he/she wanted to give them a better life. LWJ does find them eventually (he’s the father) and he gets to meet the kids. They end up staying together and raising the kids there after LWJ fakes his death @bigmeatycl0ws

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18. Hi! I'm looking for a fic where LWJ and WWX have a sex and a love confession during the sunshot campaign. LWJ visits WWX during one night and asks to let him help WWX with his health after using demonic cultivation. WWX , in a fit of rage and a desperate act to drive away LWJ, behaves crudely and proposition him.... I think the name of the fic was "fool for you"? I'm not sure.

Thanks in advance! @grrumpywoof

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19. Hey! Thank you so much for your hardwork 😊😊

Im searching for a fanfic which is completed

Yu ziyuan is present in the sunshot campaign and wwx invents turtle shields. Yzy tries to show wwx as a traitor but fails.

Can you please help me in finding this fic?

FOUND? Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing)

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20. Hello! Could you help me find a fic where pre sunshot campaign ends up in a room to watch the future and 4 juniors from the future join them. The main pairings I remember are Wangxian where Sizhui is there biological child. XiCheng Jingyi is their biological child and of course XuanLi with Jin Ling. No one believes them until they pull their parents swords from their sheaths and explain because Wangxian and XiCheng have high cultivation Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng got pregnant. @megdbrew

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#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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ineffabildaddy · 4 months ago

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hi everyone<3 personal update incoming for those interested in my writing

i'm not having the best time atm. i've been ill twice in the past month, once with a recurring chest infection. i'm basically the only one present to look out for my mum's wellbeing/mental health, which is hanging by a thread. my job's getting more and more anxiety-inducing for me. also, a few days ago i was evacuated from my flat because there'd been an electrical fire in the building, which has opened a whole new can of worms about electrical safety in my (very old) block, meaning me and my flatmates are displaced indefinitely (though we all have somewhere to stay) while things get fixed and up to an acceptable standard. then there's the usual mental health stuff and managing my neurodivergent brain going on.

i know i don't have to explain why i haven't been writing much lately or updating my wips but i do want to explain because i don't want anyone thinking it's due to a lack of love or enthusiasm, even through all this shit the fandom's undergoing atm. i wish i could be a beacon of light and bring my readers and friends happiness during this time and it's killing me that i haven't been able to provide that.

i love you all and i still love aziraphale and crowley just as much but my capacity is very limited at the moment. i haven't stopped writing by any means but things are slow-going. i'm also still supporting and engaging with other fic writers, and also artists, but updating my blog's also taken a back seat lately.

again, i rly wanna stress how much love i have for u all, and i am still here! just having a bit of a weird one</3 thank you so so much for taking the time to read this<3

#personal #fanfic #ineffabildaddy

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scary-grace · 8 days ago

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Shigaraki x Reader WIP Poll

I started but didn't finish a bunch of fics for Halloween, and in an effort to distract myself from everything I'd like to get into them! Below are excerpts from four fics I got a decent start on. Once you've read them, vote in the poll at the bottom for which one you think I should finish first!

Necromancer Shigaraki

Tomura stares at your body, torn. You’re just barely dead. He watched you take your last breaths only seconds ago, and he knows even without touching you that your skin’s still warm, your blood still liquid, your brain still alight with electrical impulses. You’re the perfect candidate for a resurrection, and Tomura needs a perfect candidate, or it’s not going to work. Spirits of the restless dead might be drawn to Tomura like moths to a bug zapper, but the real money in necromancy comes through resurrections, and Tomura’s never done one successfully.

That was fine while Tomura’s master was still in charge, but when he was captured, his guild disbanded. Tomura and his friends had to find a new home, and their new guildmaster gives zero shits about potential and all the shits about results, which means that Tomura’s inability to manage a complete resurrection has gone from an awkward conversation to a significant problem. Tomura’s friends have made themselves useful to the Hassaikai guild already. If Tomura can’t, he’ll be out on his ear.

He needs to resurrect somebody, and he needs to do it fast. You’d be the ideal subject if your last words hadn’t been a demand to do the exact opposite.

Demon Shigaraki

In all of Tomura’s depictions, he’s missing something – his index and middle finger off his left hand. Offering him yours should get his attention. You adjust your grip on the handle of the knife and speak. “I conjure you, Shigaraki Tomura, instrument of destruction and symbol of fear. Come to me.”

The circle hums to life around you. The book said it would do that. The book also said to explain. “Someone took everything away from me. I want to pay him back, but I can’t.” Bitterness fills the back of your throat, stings your eyes. Your hatred for Keigo chokes off your voice for a moment. “Shigaraki Tomura, spirit of entropy, dominion of grief, vengeance is mine. Help me claim it.”

You set your hand on top of the ninth symbol, spreading your thumb, fourth, and fifth fingers wide, leaving a clear strike at your index and middle fingers. Seeing them there, isolated on the red-chalked concrete floor, turns your stomach. How hard will you have to strike to amputate them? What if you can’t do it? This is insane. You need to move on. Move towns, move countries, dye your hair and change your name, go under and surface again somewhere far from Takami Keigo, where you’ll never hear his name again. Is vengeance against the guy who did you wrong really worth mutilating yourself? Do you really hate him that much?

Yes. You do.

Crossroads Demon Shigaraki

Tomura doesn’t know how time passes for humans when they’re alive, but he knows how it passes for you because of how you wake up. Most of the souls at Tomura’s crossroads were dead before they knew what hit them, and they wake up slowly, peacefully. They seem to know they’re dead already. They get up fast and walk faster, dissolving into nothingness past the edge of the crossroads before they even realize that Tomura’s there. But you knew what hit you. You know something went wrong. Tomura knows, because when you wake up, you lurch upright, clawing at your chest and struggling to breathe.

You’re dead. You don’t need to breathe. You don’t need to shiver, either, but your spirit’s shaking all over as you press your hands against your chest, touch along your arms and legs, reach up to the back of your head and press down hard. Tomura remembers what your body looked like on the road, and you must remember, too, because with every injury you can’t find, your panic increases. Your hands keep returning to your chest, the back of your head, like you’re trying to hold your body together.

You don’t have a body anymore. There’s nothing there, and Tomura doesn’t like the way watching you makes him feel. “Hey,” he says, and you freeze in place. “Pull it together. You’re dead.”

Cyborg Shigaraki

You work your fingers beneath the net, pulling it up and away from his neck so you can cut it away without getting the knife anywhere near his skin. Once you’ve made the necessary cuts, you get to work unwrapping it, sliding your hand behind his head and lifting it as gently as you can manage as you tug the net free. He’s almost dead weight, but not quite. When you lower his head back to the sand, you take a moment to move his hair out of his face.

You get a shock from there. His eyes are open, their irises blood-red, and there are scars over his eye and the corner of his mouth. As you watch, he blinks slowly, then focuses on you. The voice that passes through his cracked lips is raspy and quiet, so quiet that you have to lean in to hear. “Leave me.”

“I can’t do that,” you say. You can’t call for an ambulance – there’s no cell service down here, and in the time it would take you to get back in range, it’ll be too late. “Nobody should be alone when they –”

“Won’t die.” He coughs, and a spatter of blood exits his mouth. Blood wells up around the driftwood spar, too. “Once I take it out.”

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #x reader #reader insert #man door hand hook car door #please help me lol I made it at least six pages into each of these

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gffa · 1 year ago

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You would think, after a month of voracious reading of BATFAMILY fic, that I would at least begin to slow down, because I still primarily read I’m Having Dick Grayson Feelings And I’m Making That Everyone Else’s Problem, but I have also discovered that I have Jason feelings, I have Tim feelings, and I have Damian feelings. Which of course I knew before, but what I really learned is that other people have made this my problem now, too. And by that I mean that there’s amazing fic on all of the Bat babies and I am not immune. So, you may still have to scroll a bit, but if there’s an idiot badass with black hair and blue eyes, you’ll hopefully find something here to cry about with me, because what are any of us even in this fandom for, if not for the Feelings Hell About Vigilantes With Emotional Problems? BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I’M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ it is with my whole life by dustorange, dick & bruce, 2.2k Nine-year-old Dick’s been kidnapped. Bruce tries not to fall apart. ✦ World’s Finest: Lake Weekend by WingFeathers, dick & bruce & clark (& clark/bruce), 10.3k Bruce and Dick invite Clark to the lakehouse for a long weekend around Rosh Hashanah, but Dick has trouble sleeping outside the Manor, and Bruce isn’t as available as he should be. And all of this brings up a question: what exactly are the three of them, a bat-vigilante and his ward and his superhero boyfriend? Could they be something like a family? (And how will they eat with Alfred not taking care of them?) ✦ Revision by takadainmate, dick & bruce, 3.8k New to Bruce Wayne, new to being Robin, new to being alone, Dick didn’t believe there would ever be anyone there for him again. ✦ count the stars by emavee, dick & bruce, 3.7k He doesn’t know what to do. It’s not like he can stop the storm. If he could wave a magic wand and make the sky clear—or even if he could call up someone from his large contact list full of metas who could control the weather—he would. He would honestly disrupt Gotham’s weather patterns if it meant Dick would stop crying. Or: Dick doesn’t like thunderstorms, so Bruce takes him somewhere where they can’t touch him. ✦ cautionary tale by drakefeathers, dick & bruce & young justice, 11.4k Q: “Why did Queen Bee want Robin taken in alive in Bereft?” A: “Think of Speedy as a cautionary tale.” ✦ batman & robin by chickenmuffinsoup55555, dick & bruce, 4.8k The Batman has a shadow. A shadow clad in reds and greens with a smile like sunshine. Bruce is adjusting. ✦ five times someone told Bruce he was a good dad… by emavee, dick & bruce & clark & selina & cast, 10.3k …and one time it mattered ✦ Phobias by RascalJoy (DarkQuill), dick & bruce & alfred, 18.4k wip It was stupid. It was irrational. Dick knew that. There was no good reason for him to be afraid; he had been doing this for most of his young life. And yet… Five times Dick fell, and the one time Robin didn’t. ✦ I Hate Dick by JeanjacketCarf, dick & bruce & talia, 3.7k “Robin wrapped his legs around the Bats’ neck and rested his head on top of the cowl. Then he stuck his tongue out at Talia. Talia felt her face growing hot with anger. She tried to restrain it. The Bat loved this child for some unholy reason.” ✦ shades of blue by thatsveryambitiousofyou, dick & bruce, 2.4k Dick Grayson has blue eyes. Or the one where Bruce tries harder BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Withdrawal by Sohotthateveryonedied, dick & bruce & cast, 1.8k It’s been six hours since he got dosed. The green ring around his eyes has been faded since dawn. It won’t be long before the withdrawal hits him in full force. ✦ The Post-Mission Ponderings of Brucerman and NightBunny by Ptelea, dick & bruce, 4.8k This is just sheer (metaphorical) fluff to follow up on the (somewhat more literal) fluff of Wayne Family Adventures, season 2, episode 54, S'tel ees a cigam wohs! Heavy on the puns, even heavier on Bruce being struck by amazement at how much he loves his oldest son. ✦ gotta make a stand (but I am just a man) by CaptainOzone, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.3k Bruce makes it back to the Cave, injured and exhausted, but remarkably alive. He expects Alfred to meet him. He meets someone else. Or: a third credit scene in which Nightwing makes an appearance. ✦ The Hand in My Hand by audreycritter, dick & bruce, 4.4k Dick offers himself in exchange for some hostages and it does not go as planned. ✦ Yesterday by I_Have_To_Get_Off_This_Planet, dick & bruce, 1.5k Dick was pretty sure this was what dying felt like. He was curled up, almost in fetal position, on his bed in the Manor. He was there for the holidays, and he had been looking forward to their entire family being together for once. Even Jason had agreed to come. And now he was gonna die before Christmas even arrived. ✦ I Bet On Losing Dogs by Anonymous, dick & bruce, 2.5k (Or; Bruce’s relationship with his oldest and how it slowly starts to mend, with only a little push from his friends.) ✦ You can pick your battles but you can’t pick your poison by woodenwashbucket, dick & bruce, 1.8k “Hey, am I bleeding a lot somewhere?” Nightwing asked. Batman gave him an unimpressed look, but Nightwing shook his head. “Seriously. I feel off.” Nightwing wobbled. Batman grabbed him by the shoulders before they could find out if he would have fallen, and Nightwing met his eyes with undisguised alarm. “Ok, maybe worse than off,” he said. BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ what’s past is prologue by Icestorm238, dick & bruce & jason & damian, time travel, 18.1k Dick Grayson, bestowed with the memories of an alternate life, decides that things are going to go better this time. Priority number one: preventing Jason’s death. ✦ exactly how this grace thing works by irnan, dick & bruce & barbara & jason & cast, de-aged!dick, 22.7k Dick gets de-aged. You’d think this would be a routine thing. ✦ sick day by daringyounggrayson, dick & roy & titans, 1.2k Dick tries to power through a cold and lead a training session with the Teen Titans. It doesn’t exactly work out. ✦ The Gravity of Tempered Grace by CamsthiSky, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & selina, 10k He’s sick, he finally catches on, and at that moment, a cough builds up in his chest, and he barely has enough energy to sit up enough to let his lungs work properly. A coughing fit later, and Dick’s breaths are making a horrible wheezing sound that makes him sound like one of Titus’ chew toys. That’s bad. He’s pretty sure that’s bad. ✦ you swallowing matches by torielle, roy/dick & bruce, NSFW, 8.2k A month after being fired as Robin, Dick is forced to attend a Wayne gala, and is grateful for a particular friendly face. ✦ The Shape Of You (Was Jagged And Weak) by WinterSky101, dick & bruce & slade & jason & tim & damian & batfam, 40.6k Six months ago, Nightwing died. They never found the body. Last week, Deathstroke arrived in Gotham. He brought a partner with him. ✦ You say you wanna stay by my side (Darling, your head’s not right) by wlwintersoldier, roy/dick & lian & donna, 2.5k Dick is stupid and reckless on a mission, whats new, and Roy deals with the fallout ✦ Laundry Mishaps by JeanjacketCarf, dick/babs & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke, 3.5k Dick’s siblings often show up unannounced and take his stuff without asking. It’s how they show their love. Or Dick’s washing machine is commandeered for Steph’s laundry, his clothes disappear, he goes to girl’s night, has brunch, gets a little shot, and picks his baby brother up from school in about a week and a half while the secret group chat has a grand old time. BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I’M GONNA THROW HIM AT DICK BECAUSE IT’S FUNNY (AND MAYBE SOME OF HIS OTHER SIBLINGS TOO): ✦ Two Dead Birds by InsaneTrollLogic, jason & dick & tim, time travel, 29k There’s some lunatic in a red helmet running through Jason’s territory. He wants to think it’s a copycat. He’s wrong. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I’M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ Won’t You Stay A While? by fishfingersandjellybabies, dick & damian & cast, 2.8k Ric did not expect to find a child sitting on the hood of his cab. Damian did expect to get his brother back. ✦ birdgrief by windupclock, dick & bruce & damian, 1.5k How could you? Dick doesn’t say. Get out of my sight, Dick doesn’t say. What the hell is wrong with you? Dick doesn’t say. Tim storms out. Dick is left to deal with Damian. ✦ we’re like long lost brothers who found each other (and love each other like family) by drakefeathers, dick & damian, 9.3k ongoing collection of scenes set when Dick is Batman and Damian is his Robin, ranging from cute to sad (hopefully not too sad). not chronological. ✦ I’ll Carry You by BrickSheep, dick & damian & bruce & tim, 2.1k Dick Grayson will take every opportunity he can just to carry Damian in his arms. ✦ in my own imperfect way by notquiteaghost, dick & damian & bruce, 1.8k Dick jokes, a lot, about being the only reason Bruce still remembers how to talk to people. About breaking him in for everyone else. He was Robin first, and he was Robin longest, and he’s why Bruce took in the others, he’s why Bruce isn’t dead in a ditch somewhere. And the jokes are funny! He’s never trying to be passive aggressive, or guilt trip, or whatever else. He and Bruce have spent enough time, now, pointedly not actually looking at each other, pulling words out in painful fits and starts. Dick knows where they stand. They’re good. But. ✦ (Un)Fortunate Son by Syl, dick & damian & bruce & cast, 26.1k wip Bruce reaches a decision about Damian. Dick disagrees and decides to do something about it. 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: ✦ Overcoming Our Antecedents by Batbirdies, jason & bruce & dick, 31.4k Bruce swallows, closing his eyes for a brief moment before he takes another, steadying breath and presses both hands to his face. He just needs a moment. Needs to remember where he is, what year it is, that Jason is not actually fifteen, he only looks like he is. This is temporary. This is just a temporary problem that needs to be contained until they can change Jason back. This is not a repeat of events already passed. This is not a second chance. ✦ what’s past is prologue by Icestorm238, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & barbara & steph & cast, time travel, 84.9k Dick Grayson, bestowed with the memories of an alternate life, decides that things are going to go better this time. Things take a few unintended turns, and the consequences of his actions ripple through his family. ✦ And the Scene Slips Away (To the Evenness I Fake) by Kirazalea, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & duke & alfred & cast, rape aftermath/read the tags, 37k One mistake is all it took to force Jason back into the wonderful world of the Wayne family. Now publicly and legally alive once more, he’s forced to spend the next two weeks of his life stuck in the Manor with the whole family. This leads to several strengthened relationships and the realization that maybe he’s missed a few things over the years. Things that he’s now determined to get to the bottom of. ✦ now the clock is melting (so’s my mouth and so’s my mind) by SilverSkiesAtMidnight, tim & bruce & dick & cast, 4.1k The League’s base is not built to welcome strangers. Bruce is not a stranger. ✦ what catches and who holds by victoria_p (musesfool), dick & cass, 3k Dick never wanted to be Batman. Cass always did. ✦ Bet on it by Lysical, jason & damian & jon, 2.4k Even Damian could admit that his older siblings occasionally had their uses. “I need your assistance,” Damian said, voice low and tense. “No,” Jason replied, and hung up. ✦ a soft place to land by unchosenone, dick & tim, 3k Tim rubs the back of his head, trying to affect a joking tone. “I knew I should’ve just gone for the new escrima sticks.” Dick is ready to be a good big brother to his grieving little bro. Tim flips the script. ✦ Consanguineous Ministrations by Briarwitched, bruce & kon-el & clark & dick, 23.9k “Who gave you a baby?” Dick demanded, the instant Bruce opened the front door, eyes drawn immediately to the sobbing infant on Bruce’s hip that he gently bounced to no avail. At the same time, Bruce muttered, “I told you, it’s fine, you didn’t have to come.” Alternatively titled, “Let’s give Batfleck alien baby problems”. ✦ The League of Extraordinary Bowling Bats by chibi_nightowl, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & alfred & cassandra & stephanie, 5k “What did Dickiebird do? Steal all your other shirts?” The shirt is bright green with wide yellow stripes pretending to be a pin stripe running vertically across it. On the back, in bright red letters, “Timmy” is spelled out. “You’re next,” he spits out, shooting Jason the worst glare he could muster. “He’s got one for you too.” ✦ a cheese raspberry flavored void (except not really) by dottie_dc (dottie_wan_kenobi), Marzue, SilverSkiesAtMidnight, Squintyfist (ErzasCake), dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & alfred & cast, 3k “Jason.” Dick walks up to the desk, suspiciously peering around. Jason jerks and attempts to get in his way, but Dick is quick and fully willing to vault over his brother. Only, Jason immediately latches onto him, and the momentum sends them stumbling back, knocking into the desk. It’s a good thing Jason stopped him, for right behind the desk, where Dick would’ve landed, is a swirling void. ✦ The Talk by InsaneTrollLogic, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian, 2k Bruce never gave Dick the Talk. Dick was grateful for that right up until the time Damian sat through his first health class and started asking questions. ✦ Brothers in War by IaMcHrIsSi, jason & dick & cast, 3.2k Jason, Cass and Damian ran from the League. In Bludhaven, they run into Dick. Literally. Dick just wanted to get breakfast. ✦ Baby I’m Bi Bi Bi by Sohotthateveryonedied, dick & steph, 1.5k Dick catches her staring. “Oh, yeah. Forgot I had that. I bought it for when Wally, Donna and I were planning to go to Gotham Pride last year but a Joker thing came up and I didn’t get to go. You can just toss it. I have a ton of other bi merch and I only bought that one because Donna pressured me into it, anyway.” Steph looks down at the t-shirt and bites her lip. “Actually…I think I’ll keep it, if you don’t mind.” ✦ two attempted robberies too many by tsuchann, dick & bruce & jason, 2.2k Dick could have knocked out the man before he had the chance to blink let alone pull the trigger, but he wasn’t dumb, and he worried his reaction would have caused the other robbers to shoot, because in the bank, at the middle of it all, with a gun pressed to his head, was Dick’s little brother. ✦ That the Ripest Might Fall by Ellegrine, TheFightingBull, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce, reverse robins, 2.4k Jason stared at the fallen chandelier. The priceless, fallen chandelier. They were dead. They were so, so dead! ✦ the butler’s neighbor by deargalileo, tim & alfred & bruce, 16.6k it starts with a baseball, thrown onto the wayne’s property. it’s alfred’s job to deal with such happenings, of course. but over tea and galas, it turns into so much more. after all, why should bruce be the only one allowed to adopt any child that he finds? ✦ the straw drawer by deargalileo, dick & bruce & jason & tim & alfred, 7.4k sometimes, love is stored in the straws. a story about family, traditions, and gifts, through the medium of crazy straws. (a companion piece to the butler’s neighbor, so i would suggest reading that first) ✦ you gotta push all the doubt to the side of your mouth by danishsweethearts, dick & stephanie & cast, 1.7k Steph practices mindfulness. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK/BABS FOREVER AND YOU CAN SHUT IT IF YOU DISAGREE, THEY’RE ADORABLE TOGETHER: ✦ Crime and… by Ladymercury_10, dick/babs, 1.7k “Are you punishing me with glitter? That’s not a very good punishment, Babs.” ✦ the dickbabs baby au. by thychesters, dick/babs & batfam, 49.1k wip Telling Dick she’s pregnant is much more stressful than she was hoping it would be. Them telling the rest of their families and friends? Yeah, easier said than done. 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: ✦ buy back the secrets by sundiscus, tim/kon & bruce & clark & jason & cast, 48.1k wip He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.” Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy. ✦ Grevious Misuse of TTK (or, Alternate Uses for TTK) by Cfae8, tim/kon, NSFW, 1.4k Tim wakes up to someone touching him. But Kon’s hands haven’t moved. ✦ The Lost Art of Minding Your Goddamn Business by JpegDotJpeg, tim/kon & jason, 2k Tim just sputtered, looking thoroughly scandalized for someone standing in the middle of the irrefutable evidence of his own fornication. If the furniture looked this bad, Jason couldn’t imagine that little Timmy had escaped Superboy’s super cock completely unscathed. “It’s not that bad,” Tim said, gesturing to the carnage, but he didn’t even sound convinced of his own words. “It looks like the fucking honeymoon scene from Twilight in here.” ✦ Practice Makes Perfect by rotasha, tim/kon & jason, NSFW, 18.3k Kon is trying to seduce someone – he won’t tell Tim who – and he enlists Tim’s help to try to hone his flirtation skills. This surely won’t end in disaster for Tim, who’s had a thing for Kon practically since they met. BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT’S WHAT I’M HERE FOR: ✦ Wait, What? by PandasandDucks13, dick & bruce & titans, 2.4k Dick Grayson finds something interesting while applying for college. On a side note: He should really evaluate how many felonies he commits on a regular basis ✦ Dawn Breaks Through the Window by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian, depression/read the tags, 14.7k Without realizing it, Dick has fallen into a listless apathy, but when an incident cuts a little too close, Bruce and his brothers are there to remind him just how loved he is. ✦ Wisdom Always Chooses These Black Eyes and These Bruises by audreycritter, dick & bruce, 3.2k After a severe, life-changing injury, Dick and Bruce have an epic fight and then fall back together. Sometimes, family hurts you the most, but that doesn’t stop how much you need them. ✦ your continental divides by isawet, reisling, dick & bruce & damian & barbara & cassandra & stephanie & donna & roy & wally & artemis & cast, rape aftermath/read the tags, 26.7k When running doesn’t work and working doesn’t work, home is the place you go where they have to take you in. Dick’s home has never been Gotham; it’s always been the people.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #timkon #fic recs #batman fic recs #long post #really long post

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