#bella hears fictional characters

[bellaxgiornata]

It's been a bit since I've posted one of these (or have even been hearing the guys), but Matt decided to show up unannounced this morning in that fake apartment filled with fictional characters that exists solely in my head in a way that couldn't be ignored. And he wasn't alone...

(My brain is rebooting as I try to get those two Tuna-Tober fics edited to post hopefully soon. Thank y'all for being patient. I'm still behind on answering messages--thank you constant illnesses and the holidays. Promise I'm not ignoring any of y'all).

[Matt striding into the room in his black suit]

Jax (smirking as he leans back on the couch, spreading his legs while throwing an arm over the backrest): Showing up in pajamas this time? Think that's gonna suddenly get her attention? You look ridiculous.

Matt (huffing an amused breath): Think I know her better than you do, buddy.

Jax (cocking his head to the side and arching a brow in challenge): That why it's just been me here for weeks? 'Cause she hasn't written a damn thing for you in a while. So now you gonna throw a fit about that?

[Frank shoves the front door open, stepping inside followed by Michael. Both men immediately glare at Jax comfortably resting on the couch, one of his shoes now perched on the coffee table. Frank’s eyes zero in on the shoe before he makes his way over, kicking it off with a booted foot.]

Frank (growling): She don't like shoes on the furniture, asshole. Stop fuckin' the place up.

Michael (speaking to Matt but glaring at Jax): This the bastard ya said been stayin' here while we were gone? Looks like a right prick.

Jax (expression darkening as he leans forward on the couch): Seems to me none of you fuckers were comforting enough over the past few weeks.

Frank (jaw tightening): Better watch your goddamn mouth, blondie.

Michael (glancing at Matt as he stalks his way to the couch beside Frank): The hell are ya wearin'? What happened to the red suit?

Matt (smirking and unphased): I'm doing something here, just trust me.

Frank (still focused on Jax): What makes you think you're so damn comforting? The fuck you know about the stress of raisin' kids?

Bella (rubbing my forehead as I make my way into the room): Would you all just quiet down? I've got a migraine that's been a persistent pain in my ass for over two and a half months and the yelling isn't helping. Also, Jax has two kids, Frank.

Michael (quirking a brow at me at the information): Ya really got a type there, don't ya, love?

Bella: Okay, ha ha, morally gray men are my weakness. Especially if they're dads. Now can y'all play nice while my brain tries to boot back up? It's been months since I've written or edited anything and the arguing isn't helping. So just, like, get comfortable with each other right now, alright?

Jax (smug as he puts a foot back up on the coffee table): Oh, I'm getting real nice and cozy, darlin'.

[Frank grunts and kicks his foot off the coffee table again.]

Frank: Watch it before I get curious to see how flammable your hair is.

Michael (resting a hand on Frank’s shoulder and shaking his head): Not helpin' things, Frank. Just ignore him.

Bella: Great. So just...play nice for a bit. Okay?

[All of them give each other unsteady looks, clearly knowing that's not about to happen.]

Bella (glancing over at Matt): And you just...stay in that.

Matt (a satisfied smirk curling up his lips): Sure thing, sweetheart.

[mellifluouaamor]

⍣ | MOON EMBRACES THE SUN: CHAPTER 1

Synopsis. ( Gangsta AU ) One day, when you are cleaning the Italian brothers' house, you suddenly remember your past life - and Italy, who's supposed to be your closest companion, now feels like a stranger to you.

Pairing. Italy x Fem!Reader x Romano

Warnings. N/A

NAVIGATION

You blankly stared outside the window, eyes focused on nothing in particular. You had been in the middle of sweeping the floor in the dining room when a house sparrow flew near the window beside you, its gentle tweet capturing your attention. When you turned your head, the tiny bird perched itself on a lamp post, tilting its head adorably at you. You weren't sure what was so interesting about a mere sparrow, but an inexplicable force compelled you to gaze upon it, as if you were hypnotised. Even after the bird had flown away, you stayed rooted to your spot, staring ahead as unfamiliar yet familiar scenes flashed before your eyes.

There was a young girl walking down a street.

'Who is that?' you thought, knitting your eyebrows together.

She was staring at the rectangular metal object emitting light in her hand, unaware of her surroundings. She then stopped near the side of the road, where thick white stripes lead to the other side.

You watched her every movement in anticipation, gripping the broom tightly until your knuckles turned white.

The girl then looked up and proceeded to cross the road, before lowering her eyes to the object in her hand again. Unbeknownst to her, a large metal mount was speeding in her direction, seemingly disoriented with how it was swerving from side to side recklessly.

Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you mentally screamed at the girl to move. You didn't know how, but you knew, at that moment, she was going to die.

Her attention was diverted to the incoming danger far too late. She froze like a deer trapped in headlights, her pupils dilating at the truck that seemed to be getting bigger - getting closer, charging towards her like an enraged bull.

Her phone flew out of her grasp as a sickening thud resounded through the area.

A grenade suddenly exploded on one side of your body; an invisible wrecking ball of metal and glass slammed into your shoulder, tearing a scream out of your throat as you dropped on the floor. The broom slipped out of your grasp and clattered next to your writhing body, tiny diamonds of sweat beading on your forehead. You let out choked gasps as you clawed at your chest; your head was pounding, it felt as if your ribs were broken, your lungs punctured... It was so painful. You felt the agonising pain the girl in those flashbacks experienced in her final moments, and you knew the reason.

You were that girl - you had died once.

And at this moment, you're a fictional character who technically doesn't exist in the world of Hetalia, an anime with characters that are personified countries, regions and micronations. As more memories rushed in like a tidal wave, you realised that you're in the Gangsta alternate universe, a dystopian Pangea where instead of countries, there are 200 districts ruled by mobsters and represented by their representatives, with the world being a lot more punk and grunge-like.

What you had once thought was impossible turned out to be the opposite, and you were living proof of the transmigration phenomenon.

Your mind was pulled back to the present when a pair of gentle hands frantically lifted your upper body from the floor, rolling you over so that your shoulder blades rested upon their arm; you didn't even notice that somebody had rushed into the dining room after hearing your outburst. Through the tears blurring your vision, you saw a youthful face framed by short brown hair, with an odd curl lightly bouncing on the left side of his head.

"Bella, are you alright? I heard you scream from the next room!"

A man's voice. It took you a few seconds to recognise who he was, and once you did, you shakily fisted his brown waistcoat, causing a look of concern to furrow his brow.

"M-Mr Italy," you whimpered, almost whining his name. His cheeks flushed faintly at your response. Swallowing the fluttering embarrassment, he raised the hand that wasn't supporting your back to cup over yours that's clinging to him. He gently eased his digits between the gaps of your fingers, coaxing you to relax.

"It's alright," he assured you, his soft brown eyes gazing at you kindly, "I'm here." He wasn't exactly sure what had happened to you, but he could tell that you needed some comfort at the moment, especially with how you seemed to be in pain. Wrapping his fingers around your wrist, Italy brought your hand up to his mouth before gingerly planting his lips against your palm with his eyes closed. Your breathing hitched in your throat, your pulse pulsating against his lips. He then pulled away after a beat or two, smiling down at you.

Feeling your nerves calming, the mental exhaustion from your previous episode finally caught up to you and your eyelids fluttered shut. As the strength left your hand, your entire body went limp in his arms, causing panic to rise in his chest. Hugging you tightly against him, Italy turned his head to the doorway with desperation etched on his face.

"Fratello! Fratello, please help!" he cried out. As if on cue, heavy footfall approached the dining room, followed by the muttering of a grumpy Italian. He huffed as he stalked through the doorway, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"What is it, idiot brother?! What did you-" Romano stopped abruptly, his eyes widening at the sight of your unconscious self being cradled in his younger brother's arms. After getting over his initial shock, he shuffled closer to the two of you before kneeling down, concern swirling in his hazel hues.

"What happened to the ragazza?" he asked, his voice taking on a calmer tone. Italy shook his head.

"I don't know... I heard her scream just now and when I came to check on her, she was on the floor... She looked like she was in a lot of pain," the younger brother answered quietly, sounding as if he was on the verge of tears.

With a long, drawn-out sigh, Romano carded his hair with his fingers. "Let her rest in her room... and make sure to close and lock all the windows."

Nodding, Italy wrapped an arm around your shoulders and hooked an arm under your knees, before lifting you off the floor with a surprising amount of strength. He carefully shifted you around in his arms to guide your head to his chest, and then walked past Romano to bring you to your room, where he laid you down on the bed. After tucking you in, he sat on the edge of your bed, his gaze never leaving your form. He hoped that you're alright and that you'll tell him what transpired before he found you in that state. Letting out a muted sigh, he gingerly brushed away the stray strands of hair from your forehead, resolving to stay by your side until you've woken up.

An hour later, you regained consciousness. Hearing soft snores beside you, you rolled your head to the side and lifted your eyelids to find Italy asleep next to you with his head resting atop his folded arms. One of his hands was lightly grasping yours, and it was only then did you register his warmth against your skin. When you slowly slipped your hand out of his and propped yourself on your elbows, he was stirred by the subtle movements. Eyelids fluttering open, the Italian raised his head from his arms, yawning rather cutely.

"(Y/n)?" he murmured, noticing that you're awake. His face immediately lit up, and you could have sworn you saw the curl in his hair bob up and down. "You're up! Are you okay?" He made a move to hug you but you instinctively flinched out of his reach, making him falter. He looked at you curiously, realising that you're avoiding his touch. You didn't know why you did it either; in this life, you're closer to Italy than you were to Romano, so why do you feel unfamiliar with him, like he's a stranger to you? You averted your eyes, puzzled by your own actions. You tried to remember the times Italy conjured up a sense of comfort and security when the two of you were together, but found yourself struggling. The details were vague, blurry - as if there was a mist in your mind. You held your head, your heart thumping against your chest in slight panic.

Why was it so hard to remember?

"What's the matter?" he asked, drawing you out of your thoughts, "Why won't you look at me?" His voice carried a hint of hurt which prompted your gaze to drift back to him.

"I... I'm sorry, I..." you said, trailing off. Not knowing what to say to him, your threw the blanket off your body and slid off the other side of the bed. Before Italy could stop you, you had already scampered out of the room, leaving a confused and saddened Italian behind.

"Bella...?" he softly called, hoping that you'd return through the doorway - but only silence answered him.

CHAPTER 2

[mcrololo]

Never have I ever had a fictional crush

Bellas, or their version of 'hear me out' cake

God okay. I had to google that because I'm old. But here we go:

Chloe's the first to put Shego in there. She also adds Dr. Drakken ("he's just so sweet, actually. becs, don't roll your eyes at me.") and Alex the Lion before slapping Beca on the arm for looking at her like that.

Stacie definitely puts Mufasa in there ("because he is a daddy"). And also Robin Hood ("he would treat me right")

Flo adds Kovu. And everyone kind of nods in solidarity because who hasn't, you know?

Amy knocks it out of the park with her selection. Megamind, the horse from Tangled, dwayne 'the rock' johnson (& Maui, which is when the arguing about dwayne not being a fictional character finally dies down), and the male hippo from madagascar 3(?)

Beca calls all of them 'fucking weirdos'. But when nobody's looking she adds Misa Amane.

[gwenthebard]

TELL! US! ABOUT! YOUR! OCS!

OH SOMEONE ACTUALLY ASKED

OKAY THIS IS GOING TO BE A LONG ASS POST, LETS TALK ABOUT MY TWO MAIN OC CATEGORIES

Pathfinder OCs and Fallout OCs. My Pathfinder OCs are primarily based around the Montague family of Ustalav, my Fallout OCs are primarily based around game MCs plus one TTRPG oc

Honestly I've written fan fiction about all of them, but I'm absolutely too terrified to share that

Buckle up y'all

MONTAGUE FAMILY

The Montague family are Ustalav nobility, all disappointments to each other and all fucked up in their own and unique ways. I sort of have art for them, but it's just Hero Forge screenshots from them being largely game characters.

In alphabetical order:

Alaela Montague

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 123

Height: 5’4 (163 cm)

Ancestry: Elf

Class: Cleric

Likes: Her kids, Bad Boys, Adventure, Sex, BDSM

Dislikes: Settling Down, Purity Culture, Losing

Fun Facts:

Parents are wealthy merchants in Absalam, but extremely disappointed in their daughter’s life choices and don’t talk to her much.

The collar is not part of her uniform

Alaela's a bad ass Cleric of Calistria who fell in love with her husband after she tried to kill him on a dare and he found it really funny. They got married, but after having the triplets she realized she was missing a life of adventure. She waited until they were 12, said "I'm sure they won't get mommy issues if I leave now" and left.

She still regularly writes her kids letters, somehow knowing where they are even when theyre adventuring. Every year she hosts a family dinner where everyone's invited, but attendance is inconsistent.

Bella Montague

Pronouns: She/They

Age: 63

Height: 6’3 (190 cm)

Ancestry: Dhampir human

Class: Cleric

Likes: Helping people out, Howl, meeting new people, Unions

Dislikes: Vegetables, Alcohol, Capitalism

Fun Facts:

Is in horrible need of wearing her glasses, but thinks they make her look like a nerd.

Became a cleric to try and see her mom more (it didn’t work)

Bella's the middle child of the Montague triplets, and was actually the first of them I built. She's very much a jock, terribly built, and is a charismatic herbo who gets by on the fact no one asks her anything too complicated.

She can't hit anything, will eat or drink anything you hand her, and has built a slow resistance to poison from Howl testing his poisons on her since they were kids. They will do literally anything an older woman tells her to, and has accidentally unionized war camps.

Delilah Montague

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 63

Height: 6’3 (190 cm)

Ancestry: Dhampir human

Class: Witch

Likes: Death, Necromancy, The Eyes That Watch, Salem, Sally

Dislikes: Food, Baths, Bella

Fun Facts:

Uses Embalming fluid as her perfume

Sally is the only one allowed to fix her hair or pick her outfits

I'm actually playing Delilah in an Alkenstar game, and she's probably my favorite. Having suffered from sleep paralysis since she was a kid, on the first birthday after her mom left the creature in the shadows, the Eyes That Watch, sent her a cat as a birthday present. Salem's a talking cat who ambiguously hints he was once human, and is a himbo

She takes terrible care of herself, having not taken a bath or brushed her hair in decades now. Her outfit was white when and blue when she was given it, and she's never purposefully dyed it. Delilah often has to be forced to eat by Salem, though at the same time he eats most of her rations for her.

Howl Montague

Pronouns: He/Him

Age: 68

Height: 6’6 (198 cm)

Ancestry: Vampire human

Class: Alchemist

Likes: Fashion, Sewing, Fiber Arts, Bella

Dislikes: Blood, messes, insects

Fun Facts:

Made the main outfits all of the triplets normal wear (armor withstanding)

Bella is the only one who gets to hear about how his experiments are going (she's the test subject)

Howl is the oldest Montague child, and is proud of having the best fashion sense. He wakes up every morning and decides he's the most impressive person in the country. Having trained to be an alchemist since a young kid, he specializes in mutagens and poisons.

Howl is a disaster pansexual and has a habit of falling fast and falling hard for every man and woman he meets. Absolutely has never gotten a date and never will, because he has negative game. Sally tried setting him up once on a blind date and he panicked and poisoned himself to have an excuse to leave early.

Kolro Montague

Pronouns: He/Him

Age: ???

Height: 7’5 (226 cm)

Ancestry: Vampire human

Class: Fighter

Likes: Bloodshed and massacre, subjugating the masses, torture, his wife

Dislikes: His kids, his life choices

Fun Facts:

Spends an hour every morning styling his hair and beard

Makes sure to schedule a collective twenty four hours of bonding time with each of his kids each year to seem like he cares

Kolro's family had ruled their territory in Ustalav for some time before he became a vampire. Killing his own father, he took up the titles and has ruled the territory with an iron fist ever since, his cruel exterior only pierced by Alaela.

Kolro has no idea how to raise kids, and literally thinks his kids aren't properly adults until they try to kill him and steal his titles and lands. None of them have tried to do so, and none hold a demeanor close to his, leading to constant disappointment. He's not sure how to interact with his kids in a way that's not encouraging murder or discussing the philosophy of war.

Salem Catenhagen

Pronouns: He/Him

Age: ???

Height: Cat

Ancestry: Cat

Class: Cat

Likes: String, fish, catnip, women, flare for the dramatic, evil schemes

Dislikes: Water, long walks on the beach, The Eyes That Watch

Fun Facts:

Used to be human before betraying The Eyes That Watch

Considers himself the dad who stepped up to Delilah.

Literally just gonna leave this here, what else needs to be said.

Sally Montague

Pronouns:

Age: 63

Height: 6’3 (190 cm)

Ancestry: Dhampir human

Class: Druid

Likes: Her kids, Delilah, her husbands, nature, animals, flowers, trees, birds, bugs, green, brown, purple, pink, red, white, black (list continues indefinitely)

Dislikes: Fighting, anger, bad vibes

Fun Fact:

Stole her pearl necklace from her dad’s private vault as a memory of home

Is wanted in every country for violent acts of ecoterrorism she refers to as her “fixing the vibes in the room”.

Youngest of the Montague triplets, Sally has always been the silliest of the family. Loving peace, happiness, beauty, she was always considered to be a rebel in her family, something she thought stressful. When she fell in love with a halfling bard at nineteen she panicked at how her family would react and did the logical thing:

She robbed her grandmother's grave and placed the body in her bed, burned down her tower, stole the Montague family pearls, and faked her death for five years while she eloped and had a kid. By the time she returned, everyone was so happy about her being alive they didn't care about her taste in men. She primarily lives in a halfling commune with her three husbands and scores of kids and grandkids, but occasionally goes on trips to perform ecoterrorism.

FALLOUT OCS

These have a lot less information, mostly because most of them are my character headcanons and the one TTRPG one I've never gotten a chance to play in a game so it's just for my custom setting

I have a picture of my Sole Survivor OC, literally shitty "took picture of screen" because was playing her recently, but not even Hero Forge art for others so keep that in mine

Nancy Alberts

Origin: Lone Wanderer

Pronouns: She/Her

Nancy's genuinely hopeful and happy, but also very shy and uncertain about herself. Growing up in the vault she was the type to try and making people like her by being funny, but none of her jokes work in the wasteland so she's just nervous.

Ends up becoming really skilled at using automatic rifles and the like. She wears the power armor she's given while out on quests, but otherwise feels a lot of comfort in wearing her old vault suit while around the house.

She started getting a crush on Butch before she left the vault that she fucking hated and suppressed. They became a relationship of "well we know each other and not many other people" after he left the vault himself, and kinda on again off again until they actually started dating after the game.

Mouse

Origin: The Courier

Pronouns: She/Her

Mouse lost big sections of her memory after getting shot in the head, remembering some vague details but forgetting a lot. Not remembering her actual name, she just remembers people liked to call her Mouse, and she was from farther out west. Wandering back out into the wastes she found herself.

She ends up becoming classic cowboy, using revolvers mostly with occasional non-scoped rifles, wears leathers and coats. She acts cheerful and happy, though is constantly on the verge of an identity crisis and crying regularly as she tries to figure out who she is. Tries staying alone at first, despite meeting few people, but does bring Boone along after helping him out.

Sees Boone as similar sad person for her to relate to, especially since it helps neither talks about their past immediately. Starts to enjoy his company and adds his gifted beret to her normal wardrobe. Starts to get a crush on Boone, but pretty much immediately knows he's never returning that.

Sleeps with Benny planning to kill him and thinking it's the best way to show Boone "not interested", but they end up talking about their feelings and regrets and she forgets to and falls asleep. Wakes up pissed off and tracks him down, ends up letting him go, and gets pissed at herself again and shoots Caesar for the hell of it before leaving. This all makes her realize how desperate she is for someone to talk to, and makes the crush on Boone worse.

Honest Hearts and Lonesome Road happens and she realizes it's not just Boone, she just has the worst taste in men and is touch starved.

She does the Yes Man ending, and tries and help people around her get better as she realizes she's a complete mess. Tries turning herself into a martyr, but friends keep pulling a "I will drag you into loving yourself" point

Julie "Snipes"

Pronouns: She/Her

Origin: Sole Survivor

Julie grew up in the country and was used to needing to hunt and the like, with her dad being a major doomsday prepper. Gladly settled down and became a suburban housewife after growing up with that, trying to put that behind her. After waking up from being frozen she fell back on a lot of that, while spiraling mentally.

Julie believes completely in customization and sufficiency, though how far she takes it can be concerning. She primarily dresses as above and uses a sniper rifle and pipe pistol for close range. She stopped using her husband's name early on, though didn't feel comfortable taking her maiden name. In the end she ended up getting the nickname Snipes for her preferred method of combat.

She alternates rather regularly between being nice and supportive and wanting to go into the Wasteland and fight everything she sees. Generally tries to help others, but at the same time just feels really lost and unsure of how to act in this new world so she falls back on letting others do most of the charity work.

On top of building settlements and falling back on knowledge she has from her past she customizes everything. Her weapons, her armor, even herself in what ways she can. Julie got really into chems after the apocalypse, often making her own and using them during fights.

Doesn't really get over the death of her husband for a long while, not even removing her wedding ring the whole time or living his behind. Becomes really good friends with Hancock and has brief flings with Piper and Macready, but isn't ready for a full relationship. Does Minuteman ending, after the game she ends up retiring to Diamond City with her robot kid to try focusing on herself again.

Morgause

Pronouns: She/Her

Origins: Fallout 2d20 (Custom Richmond Setting)

Morgause is a member of "The Kingdom", a group of ren faire descendents who formed a pseudo-medieval civilization. A member of the noble class, Morgause left it behind to seek a life of her own. Now she wanders the wasteland trying to help smaller civilizations, while escaping bounty hunters her family sends trying to bring her back.

Morgause still dresses in the pseudo-medieval fashion of The Kingdom, wearing long dresses and veils even to fights. Primarily using rifles, she likes to keeps her distance if a fight happens and use her charisma first when possible. Her dialogue's still peppered with the dialect of The Kingdom, though she's been trying to hide it as it's a subject of ridicule the farther out one gets from their territories.

Morgause travels alone mostly, though has recently started taking up group jobs in an attempt to socialize. Not really sure how to act outside the specific context of a noble of a single culture though it's been slow and with plenty of blunders. Her one and only attempt to have asked someone on a date having resulted in laughter

[threebooksoneplot]

I thought it was sooo funny at the part where Bella’s like “I had a thing for Romeo UNTIL I met Edward”… cause Bella & Edward seem like the kind of couple that would nearly break up because he found out she found a fictional character cute and they both considered it cheating LOL.

Reminds me of when I was 11 & got an irl boyfriend for three days so i had a VERY dramatic breakup with the person I would rp Bellatrix x Severus Snape with on Mugglespace.

On a related note, my headcanon is that Forks sees all the vampire stuff but they think it’s just the weird anime nerds doing a vampire larp every day

NOT “THEY BOTH CONSIDERED IT CHEATING” fhdhdkdk 💀 also screaming @ your mugglespace rp breakup. you really said “no I’ve got the real life experience now. let’s fucking do this”

forks being too polite to call out the cullens’ weird behavior is basically canon, tbh. charlie telling Bella like “THEYRE GREAT IGNORE ANY BS YOU HEAR” basically confirms their #freak behavior imo—shannon

11-year-old you is edward and bella except edward is the irl boyfriend who freaks out about bella's romeo x juliet rp and reads over her shoulder in order to backseat drive the rp breakup —G

[thedawningofthehour]

Tbh I just love how Deep In The Shit Draxum and Galois are at this point with whatever the outcome of all of this is. I think, in a lot of stories where a main character is brainwashed and joins the bad guys, they always pull their punches in how long it lasts and what they do while they've switched sides. But here, not only has Draxum gotten Donnie/Galois to do some Heinous Shit (not only to his family once he figures all that shit out, but like. Yknow. War) but also??? The genuine emotional bond.

Like. In terms of long term damage and pain, the genuine care and rapport Draxum and Galois have is probably my favorite* part of DOTH because how do you 1) resolve the idea of someone who you think loves and cares about you and you have more in common with than almost anybody doing THAT to you and 2) how do you process that part of your life where things were undeniably good (and in some ways better) with the fact that it only came from pain and led you to do horrible things?? Every single twist in this story has me on the edge of my emotional seat Donnie is going to have psychological issues beyond comprehension when this is all done

*this is technically a lie because my real favorite thing about DOTH is your fantastic hidden city worldbuilding. Its become canon to me and also I could hear about how yokai society works forever. You really make it feel real in a way that really makes the story click. I also lump Draxums family under here bc they are legit fantastic break Bella out of jail so i may propose marriage

I very much dislike it when authors so clearly try to keep their precious darlings from doing anything problematic. Especially when they're trying to portray them as being morally grey or in the wrong, or even just showing poor judgement.

Katniss kills a civilian woman without hesitation to protect her squad. Zuko burns down Kyoshi village searching for the Avatar. Daenerys throws an entire region into chaos in her noble but naïve attempt to wipe out slavery. These are all characters we're supposed to like, that we generally do still like in spite of their problematic actions. (unless you're a Dany hater, in which case get off my blog and learn some reading comprehension) Their misdeeds give them depth, places to improve themselves and mature. That's what characters should be doing. If your protagonist keeps their hands clean the entire time, not only do they end up passive observers in their own story but it gives them no opportunity for growth. Daenerys learning from her ignorance and sculpting herself into a better ruler is not only a major component of her own story, but it's what sets her apart from the five kings. Avatar wouldn't be half of what it is without Zuko's redemption arc. And Katniss had to be that merciless, fatalistic Mockingjay to kill Coin-and killing Coin changes the meaning of the entire story.

The fucking world-building. I just watched a video today on world-building tips, and the guy doing the video essay used a Rubic's Cube as a metaphor for putting together all the different parts that make up a living, interesting fictional world and making them work together, with the disclaimer of DO NOT BUILD YOUR ENTIRE GODDAMN WORLD IN FULL DETAIL FOR THE LOVE OF GOD THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE YOU WILL DIE. And I felt that on an emotional level. I've been re-reading ASOIAF lately, and I'm starting to develop more sympathy for Germ taking 'checks notes' twelve years so far to write the next book. I think he's legit weighed down by Worldbuilder's Disease and now the story is too big for him to hold up. I very much enjoy the world-building, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't. But oh my god it is a well with no bottom and I am pressing my feet and shoulders against the side trying not to fall.

[drops-of-universe]

What are your thoughts on Poor Things? How much fun was that dance scene?

God i loved it! bella’s so witty and fun! you know, i recently read a review that this movie fails in "romanticizing prostitution" as a feminist message that missed the mark and i think the person didn't grasp the point of the film because its one that will be better understood from a feminine perspective. IMO this aspect of the film actually speaks to how we (women) would deal with sexual freedom if we were raised without the social parameters, past and present, imposed on us. bella's creator talks about his father all the time making it clear he was raised by a practical person, not sentimental, and that made me think he was also unattached to trivial social norms. gods equally detached from these same norms. a good analogy is him being a eunuch (emasculated from his sexism). well god then creates bella as an experiment, with love for his creation but without sentimentality or actually any concern for passing on values other than intellectual ones. so she grows up free from these constraints, and when she finds herself free in the world, she's also free from social "polishing," even though men sometimes try to impose it on her. she doesn't even understand or obey it as theyd like and ends up acting throughout the film like the men we know today. sex is purely a need and pleasure. she also makes this clear when she tells at one point that she doesn't understand the feelings she's causing in marks character (i dont remember his name lol) during the lisbon chapter. anyway, prostitution is not trivialized or romanticized. think about what you would think of a man who prostitutes himself. i can v easily hear jokes like "that's not a job" or that it would be the "dream job," and that's exactly how bellas sees it, combining need with curiosity and still showing enjoyment in certain moments, but not failing to show the unpleasant situations. in my interpretation, i see victoria's suicide while living what is considered the pinnacle of a womans achievement (married to a rich man, with honors, and pregnant etc) as a question posed by the film: "what if?" what if she had another chance to live differently? would she be happier? (and also that makes me question those who see this as an ode to pedophilia. its not for nothing that science fiction was added to this plot, in an attempt to cut off any pointing in that direction and highlight the real message.) bellas end, unlike her mother's, was free, happy, studying medicine, and as one thing has nothing to do with the other, she ends up with a man who respects and understands her, without judging her curiosity, her desire, and her choices (the opposite of bellas father). OK FINALLY i need to mention the unique direction and editing that w all the sound design and performances create the perfect sense of strangeness and curiosity in a film that completely held my attention, with well timed comedic relief. i loved it. its an essential

[peakatseven]

maybe it's my whimsical mind but im seeing so many fictional characters represented in this album. Like, besides the obvious Peter and cassandra, the bolter gives me Bella Baxter and I hear Oliver Quick from Saltburn singing guilty as sin? in some places, also every literary reference in I Hate It Here is so loud, any tribute from the hunger games raise their voice in Who's Afraid of Little Old Me? How did it end just reeks a marriage story and I could go ON

[mesaylormoon]

Poor Things: A Review

I had high expectations of Poor Things upon hearing it was meant to be an arthouse film featuring stars like Willem DaFoe, Emma Stone, and Mark Ruffalo. The teasers were refreshingly mystifying and revealed very little about the movie’s subject matter. Adding further to the picture’s credibility was the endorsement of one of my favorite movie critics. Awards season hyped the film even further, and I was anxious to see it at the Tower Theatre this week…

Pros:

* The camerawork and cinematography are exquisite in this film and perfectly reflect the experiences of the main character. To paraphrase another critic: Yorgos Lanthimos uses contrasting black-and-white/color frames, exaggerated focal lengths, dramatic camera angles, and a Steampunk-inspired aesthetic to create the contradictory world the characters live in

* Dafoe, Ruffalo, and Stone submit decent performances

* The narrative is filled with cliches (likely purposefully so), but director Lanthimos also carefully laces the movie with several refreshing plot elements. As a result, he brilliantly departs from narrative convention in a way that reflects his storytelling prowess

* The Frankenstein-inspired premise will delight fans of fantasy and science fiction alike

* A discordant score can be heard throughout the film and it illustrates the excited, confusing feelings of the protagonist

* The main character, Bella, is provided a very interesting backstory and is the most complex female lead I’ve seen in years. Bella is many things: emotional, loud, aggressive, curious, sex-driven, cold, calculated, opinionated — the one adjective you cannot use to describe her is “kind.” Kindness is a beautiful trait for movie characters and people to have, but Bella may be the only female protagonist I’ve ever seen who does not show the gentleness associated with other likable characters in the media. This detail alone adds so many layers of depth to a seemingly one-dimensional main character

* The dialogue is, at times, very witty, raunchy, and even funny. Some of the best lines in the movie seem to provide insight into Lanthimos’s sense of humor, and it would be great to see this material more often. It is also eloquent and thought-provoking without being confusing.

* The ending is surprisingly satisfying

Cons:

* Many unchallenging themes regarding women and sex are woven into the text of Poor Things. I love seeing “risqué” subjects like sex in film, but the conversation regarding the topic is so present in modern filmmaking that any statements made about women and sex just seem a bit pandering, passé, or even cliche

* The tone of Poor Things makes the film a relatively unpleasant viewing experience throughout

* I love that this film had the courage to depict an abusive relationship and themes addressing ableism, but both subjects were handled in an almost ignorant manner that I felt were never fully examined

Verdict: I’ve heard Lanthimos’s work is often difficult to understand and, in many cases, flat-out disturbing. For the most part, these descriptors do not apply to Poor Things. This is a relatively palatable movie and it will find its audience with the people who can appreciate the abstract nature of its themes. If you love fairy tales, fantasies, or science fiction, and want a familiar, but refreshing take on a story that has been told and retold throughout time, Poor Things is the movie for you.

Unfortunately, for me, this film is only decent at best. I saw it once, but can’t see myself watching it again (though, that might change someday). The disturbing tone and oft-discussed sexual themes kept me from enjoying the movie as much as I could, and I generally don’t appreciate narratives inspired by science fiction. (This is purely a matter of taste, however).

Despite these problems, Lanthimos offers moviegoers a treasure chest of great storytelling for a broader audience to enjoy his work past and present.

[bellaxgiornata]

Just over here having fun booping everyone this morning and then I started thinking about Matt, Mikey, and Frank in my head and wondering how they'd feel if they were getting booped sporadically and it made me laugh. So, here's another one of those weird character dialgoue things below the cut!

Matt, running a hand over his face: That's like the fifteenth time someone has booped my nose in the past three minutes. How am I supposed to focus on anything today? Or sleep? Or get anything done?

Frank, pausing with his coffee midway to his mouth and frowning: ...the fuck keeps touching my goddamn nose?

Michael, focused on his book on the couch: It's that tumblr boop thing Bella is doin'. She's now just imaginin' everyone boopin' our noses instead.

Frank, eyeing Michael curiously over his coffee: The hell you look so comfortable over there for then? Isn't this--[Frank, pausing and swatting at the air in front of his face aggressively] Isn't this bothering you, too?

Michael, shrugging: Not really. Bella's havin' fun with it.

Matt, muttering under his breath: You're just sucking up to her because she's working on your stories...

Michael, glancing up from over the top of his book: Let the lady have her fun. She's had a long--[pauses for repeated boops]

Frank, grinning as Michael just sits there making a face: You good there, buddy? She's had a long what? What were you saying? Didn't catch that.

Michael, gradually opening his eyes with a flat expression on his face: Long weekend. Alrigh' I'll admit, that was quite an aggressive boopin' just now. I see your point.

Matt: I don't see how--[pauses for boop] I don't see how we're--[pauses for boop] I don't see how Bella expects to--[pauses for boop]

[Matt, irritated and rising to his feet, throwing his hands on his hips as he paces the living room]

Frank, sighing as he focuses on Michael: How long is this gonna be goin' on for?

Michael, shrugging again: I dunno, it just started so I imagine for--[pauses for boop] --a bit.

Frank, shaking his head: Goddammit, that's just--[pauses in irritation for repeated booping] DAMMIT, BELLA!

[nerdychick13]

Finesse & Ozzy's Big Night

A post-villa fan fiction based on Love Island: The Game Season 6 characters and my MC Finesse

It’s been six months since Ozzy and I won Love Island. I was very shocked when Ozzy found the ￡50,000 in his envelope. In my mind, Ozzy and I are a solid couple. But this is Love Island. A TV show. A fishbowl for your emotions broadcast for the world to see. And while it is expected that you’ll play the field in the hopes of finding love, I had no guarantee I was the one Ozzy wanted outside of the villa. Sure we’d talked about it after that night in the Hideaway and on that date on the beach. But Grace was still here and set on making Ozzy hers. Grace is a beautiful, kind, and intelligent woman, but she isn’t the woman Ozzy wanted (or so he said). So imagine my surprise when he chose me for the final recoupling! Up until that point, Ozzy had only coupled with Grace, all the while kissing me in challenges and behind the Beach Hut, stealing glances across the breakfast bar, and winking over drinks. In the boys’ choice recoupling, I got picked before Ozzy had a chance to choose me. I guess that makes me the most popular girl in the villa, but it kept me from the man I wanted all that time. But those three days coupled together in the villa solidified in my mind that Ozzy was the only man for me. Sadly, that left Jamal to couple with Grace. They make a cute couple, but they’re clearly not in love. Amelia and Roberto also coupled up, but the public could see they weren’t compatible and sent them home in the last dumping before the final. Elliot was a nice guy, a pure gent, but he saw what Ozzy and I have and as a true friend, stole Grace away here and there so Ozzy and I could hang out without Grace looming over our shoulders. Bella was very fun and an absolute stunner but we just didn’t work out. She and Flo make a cute couple, chatting and giggling together at breakfast, holding hands as they stroll through the villa. Toby cut a dashing figure, but he was too much of a goofball for my liking. He’s still a riot at parties, so I’ll see him post-villa for sure. But that’s enough reminiscing. Imagine my surprise when Ozzy declared his love for me on stage for the world to hear! I think Ozzy’s love is a bigger prize than ￡25,000. 

Ozzy and I are a proper couple now - boyfriend and girlfriend. We still have separate apartments, but we only made things official a month ago. Tonight is the six-month anniversary of our Love Island season finale. Ozzy is taking me out on the town on a special date. We finally caught a break between Ozzy’s tour and my fashion shows where we’re both in London at the same time. I made my dress specifically for this date - a formal black strapless evening gown with a sheer back that glides over my curves and highlights my hourglass figure. The reinforced cups in the bodice showcase my full breasts in all their glory and Ozzy’s Tiffany ruby necklace rests delicately on my collarbone. I love how the heart-shaped gem symbolizes our love, and how thoughtful of Ozzy to remember my birthstone. I slide my feet into strappy heels and snap on my favorite cuff bracelet. I pin my curls back into an elegant chignon and smooth my dress down as I take a final look in the mirror. The doorbell rings and I look out the peephole to see Ozzy standing in a handsome tuxedo. My mind flashes to another occasion I have seen him in this suit - the Narrator’s wedding two months ago. Ozzy and I were in the bridal party with all the previous seasons' winners, and Iona from season 3 officiated. Back then I saw Ozzy and I walking down a similar aisle to vow our undying love, symbolized by an exchange of rings, and sealed with a passionate kiss. But tonight is no less special as it marks a significant milestone in our relationship. Now there’s a new season of Love Island with new islanders seeking love, lust, fame, and fortune and we don’t get as much attention from our time on the show, to our great pleasure. 

I open the door and step back to let Ozzy inside. “Happy Love-aversary!” Ozzy exclaims as he presents me with a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses. I hold the bouquet in my hands, take a deep sniff of the fragrant blooms, and lift my big brown eyes to meet his. Ozzy is smooth as silk with his sexy dance moves, millionaire’s smile, and elegant manner, but he also has a cheesy romanticism about him too. All of these pieces inside this handsome body comprise the man I love. Even knowing all his flaws, mistakes, inactions, and poor choices in life, I love him. I smile at him before pulling him into a steamy kiss, losing my senses for a minute before pulling away. “Happy Love-aversary Ozzy.” I wipe a stray trace of lipstick from Ozzy’s bottom lip and consider staying in tonight instead. “Ready to go? The car’s parked out front.” Ozzy’s hand on my waist traces mesmerizing circles as he speaks in that suave, low tone he has, the tone that has led to many late nights and early mornings tangled together in erotic bliss. I take a deep breath and regain my composure. “Let me put these into a vase and then we can go.” I give Ozzy a wink and extricate myself from his hypnotic gaze and arrange the flowers in a vase of water on my kitchen table. I take Ozzy’s hand and lead him out into the hallway of my apartment complex, lock the door, and walk with him to the elevator. “You look marvelous tonight darling,” Ozzy says as the elevator doors close. “Is this from your new collection?” I smile up at him and reply “No, I made this one just for tonight. For us” and roll my thumb over his hand. Ozzy smiles appreciatively and the elevator doors open to the foyer. Ozzy leads the way to the waiting cab, the driver holding the door open for us to slide inside. Soon we’re en route to the restaurant, our hands squeezing each other's knees, barely controlling our lust. All too soon we arrive at the restaurant Le Bombe, a modern French place that has already caught the attention of the James Beard Association and boasts an acclaimed Michelin-starred chef. The hostess escorts us to a table in a private room, presents us both with menus, and leaves to inform the waitstaff we’ve arrived. “Ozzy this place is impossible to get reservations! How did you do it?” My shock at dining in one of London’s premier restaurants is clear on my face as I pose this question after the hostess departs. “I called in a favor. The chef’s son and I toured together with Dua Lipa. We became good friends and when I covered his spot when he had a family emergency, he promised me reservations at his mom’s restaurant anytime I wanted them.” My heart melts knowing Ozzy went to all this effort to make tonight special for me. “Well, I’m really looking forward to spending tonight together.” I give Ozzy a sultry wink before reviewing the menu and eventually deciding on the fillet of sole with Vietnamese salad niçoise and strawberry rambutan blancmange. 

The meal was sumptuous, deftly combining flavors from Southeast Asia with classic French techniques. After savoring the food and flirting with Ozzy (who left a generous tip for our waiter), we head to an exclusive dance club. A velvet rope restrains a long line of patrons eagerly awaiting entrance into the club. Ozzy and I walk past the sea of people and directly to the door, the bouncer lifting the velvet rope for us with a smile and bassy “Enjoy your evening.” We enter a dark space designed to emulate the cosmos. Tiny lights adorn the high ceiling and walls which have been painted in rich hues of indigo and black. The bar menu is all space themed with cocktails like Diana’s Daquiri, Saturn Sling, and Mercury Mojito. We order The Toast of Olympus (a bottle of champagne) and Ozzy pours us each a glass of the sweet, sparkly beverage. “Here’s to the only woman I’ll ever love. The only woman who occupies my dreams and my heart. Here’s to you, Finesse,” Ozzy says raising his glass. I feel a twist in my gut and tears sting my eyes at the sincerity in his eyes as he holds my gaze. I swallow back the tears that threaten to come and raise my glass to meet his. “Here’s to loving you Ozzy,” I say as we clink our glasses together and sip the cool champagne. A Maluma song comes over the speakers and Ozzy offers his hand. “May I have this dance, my lady? I smile coyly and lay my hand in his. “It would be my pleasure.” Ozzy leads me to the dance floor and holding both of my hands in each of his, initiates a very saucy salsa. My dress swings out as we twirl and promenade across the dance floor. The crowd parts to watch us, our chemistry infectious and technique impeccable. I was a pretty good dancer before meeting Ozzy, but he’s taught me some more sophisticated moves since we started dating. Together we make a very handsome pair. Fast song plays after fast song, some pop, reggaeton, and EDM play for what seems like forever until the music slows. Ariana Grande’s “Imagine” starts up and my heart clenches. This is the one song that makes me think of a future with Ozzy every time I hear it. I’m slightly winded, and Ozzy looks at me with a questioning look in his eye. Damn, he knows me so well. Instead of walking to a table, I drape my arms around his shoulders and his hands rest on my hips. What starts as a simple swaying slow dance turns into a cheeky foxtrot as we give ourselves to the music, inadvertently putting on a show for the crowd around us. Memories wash through my mind as the lyrics float through my heart. Ozzy surprising me backstage at my first fashion show in London. Blowing Ozzy kisses from the first row at the Bad Bunny concert he’s performing in. Meeting his family for the first time and the feeling of security and belonging as his grandmother drapes a handknitted scarf around my neck. Then memories yet to be made waft through me. Christening our first house together. Walking down the aisle to Ozzy in white formalwear. Holding our first child in our arms. Then Ozzy dips me low in his arms and I’m brought back to the present. The love he has for me sparkles in his eyes, intoxicating me. I lean up to kiss him, drawn like a moth to a flame. My hand slips up his arm to his neck, my fingers deep in his thick, dark hair. I lose myself in his hips and lose all sense of place and time. Ozzy pulls away all too soon and my lips feel the chill in the air upon our separation. “Let’s take this somewhere more private, shall we?” Ozzy’s lips form a seductive smirk, the one he knows I’m weak for. I lick my lips slowly and nod. “Yes, we’d better leave before we get kicked out.” Ozzy helps me back to standing, and I smooth my dress over my legs and wipe the saliva from my mouth before taking Ozzy’s hand and leaving the club.

We slide into the first cab we find, hands roaming each other’s bodies as we make out in the backseat. We only stop to pay, climb out and run to the elevator, our fevered kisses resuming on the ride up. I can barely keep Ozzy off me long enough to unlock my door before he’s pressed me against it, his hands sliding up my legs to cup my ass. I lock the door behind us and playfully slip out from his grasp, walking backward to the living room. I pull Ozzy by the tie into my arms and lips. Our tongues dance in a private ballroom while our hands liberate our bodies from textile confinements. I push him down onto the couch, straddle him, and run my nails down his bare chest. His teeth bite my lip as I make small, red lines down his pecs and abs, marking him as mine. I undo his belt and slide his pants down his legs, looking into his eyes. I’m only in my black lace lingerie, but the air is hot and thick with anticipation, lust, and the gravity of what I’m about to do. I lean up and kiss his ear slowly, sucking the lobe between my teeth and biting down on it. “Oh shit, Finesse!” “Do you like that Ozzy?” I purr seductively into his ear. “Mmm,” is all he can mutter as my lips travel down his neck, my tongue trailing a line of saliva as I taste him. I slide my hand down and roll Ozzy’s briefs down, exposing his gorgeous cock. I suck in a breath and a bit of Ozzy’s skin between my teeth and worry it a little as my hand wraps around his shaft. “Oh, Finesse! God, what you do to me!” I lean back to admire the desperation on Ozzy’s face, the bruise blooming on his neck, and the blood rushing to his cock in my hand. “You like that don’t you Ozzy? You like pain with your pleasure,” I say matter-of-factly. “You know I do” Ozzy replies. “Does Zeph know?” “What?” Ozzy asks blankly. “Does Zeph know you like pain with your pleasure?” I stroke Ozzy’s cock slowly, agonizingly slowly. He tries to push his cock further into my hand to speed up the pace, but I push his hips down with my free hand, keeping him in place, at my mercy. “Amy told me about your little fling with my ex. Still not sure why you felt the need to tell her how he fucked you on the tour bus. And the hotel. And the concert stage. But it's okay. I’m not mad. We all have a past.” 

I smile sweetly, too calm for someone who just revealed her boyfriend is also her ex Zeph’s ex-boyfriend, a fact she never heard from him. I pick up Ozzy’s tie from where it lies on the floor and bind his wrists together. I climb off of him and stand beside the couch. “Get up. Follow me.” I order my tone tense, my words terse. Ozzy looks at me in confusion, but slowly rises and steps out of his loose pants and discarded underwear. My head swirls with many emotions as I collect myself on the walk to my bedroom, my heels clicking on the hardwood, grounding me in my relative power in this situation. Maybe I should’ve blindfolded him with the tie. I think. No, I want him to see the hurt I feel. The disappointment. And I want to see what he feels. Is he ashamed? Proud? Scared? Soon enough we arrive at my bedroom and I open the door and lead him to the bed. “Kneel,” I order and wait for Ozzy to sink to his knees on the floor before me, looking small, penitent, and a little pitiful as he hangs his head. “Hold your head up. Eyes down.” I walk to my dresser, opened the top drawer, and remove a pair of matte black handcuffs. I untie the necktie from Ozzy’s wrists and snap the handcuffs on him, arms behind his back. “I’m disappointed in you Ozzy. I told you about my dating history, every sordid detail. I told you about all the people who hit on me after we started dating and turned them all down. I did that out of loyalty to you. I was honest and forthcoming about everything with you. All of my hopes and dreams. And you couldn’t share this one thing with me. I had to hear it from my sister. The same sister who also fucked my ex while he was on tour. Imagine how I felt knowing the guy I was in love with slept with the guy I’m in love with now!” The emotions threaten to overtake me as I make this passionate declaration. The weight of the situation seems to dawn on Ozzy as his shoulders slump and the color drains from his face. “Nobody makes a fool out of me Ozzy. No-fucking-body. If you wanna be somebody’s little bitch boy, I’ll show you exactly how you can be a little bitch boy.” I tie the necktie around Ozzy’s eyes and return to my dresser. I pull out Ozzy’s favorite lube and a strap-on harness and attach a short but thick anal dildo to it. I lube the dildo up generously and step into the harness. With my clean hand, I bend Ozzy over the bed, pressing his cheek into the mattress. I use my lubed fingers to probe Ozzy’s asshole. “Ahh!” Ozzy exclaims at the sudden intrusion, not that it’s new for him. We’ve discussed how he identifies as bisexual and the various male partners he’s had in the past have taken his cute little ass before. We’ve even done some anal play together. He leans into my Domme side and submits to me willingly. Now he whimpers as my fingers loosen and lube him up. I give his ass a quick slap to his right cheek. “Quiet or I’ll give you a real spanking to cry about.” I slide my fingers out and hold his hip with one hand as I slowly push the dildo into his ass. “AHHH Finesse!” Ozzy cries. I give him five quick hits to his left cheek with my bare hand. “I said be quiet Ozzy." Ozzy immediately shuts up and I resume thrusting the dildo into his ass, slowly but surely. Once the dildo fills his ass, I caress his red cheeks and pull the dildo out almost entirely before slamming back in. Ozzy whimpers a little but keeps himself from uttering anything more. I keep thrusting hard and fast, my pussy cramping with the building pleasure and dying for release. I squeeze Ozzy’s sore ass cheek and he moans, deep and visceral. “Uhh,” Ozzy grunts into the bedspread, sweat collecting on his brow and his cum collecting on the floor. My own breathing gets heavier as I pick up the pace and finally reach my own gushing peak. 

I pull out of Ozzy’s ass and step back to appreciate its rouge beauty, before stepping out of the harness and freeing Ozzy from his bindings. I climb onto the bed and pull Ozzy up with me, cradling him in my arms. “How do you feel?” I ask Ozzy in a whisper. I kiss his forehead and smooth his hair down over his head. “I feel like I let you down. I know in my heart of hearts that I let you down.” I rub his back slowly and listen as he goes on. “I am so deeply sorry for not telling you Finesse. I have had flings on tour before Love Island, most often with other dancers. It was never anything serious and neither was Zeph. But apparently, it meant something to him because he told Amelia about me when she saw him abroad.” Ozzy cries into my breast as he continues his story and my heart aches for this man I love so deeply. “Zeph asked me to call him once we got back home but I never did. I never heard from him again until a few weeks ago when he hired me for his next tour. I agreed to dance backup but only if we kept a professional relationship, nothing more. I swear I was going to tell you he and I slept together. I was going to tell you over lunch last week but you got called away and I decided to tell you after our anniversary.” My breasts shine with Ozzy’s tears, my own eyes misty with emotion. I take a deep breath and manage to speak. “That day I got called into work on an emergency. And while I was there, Amy shows up, mentions that she saw you somewhere - Glasto maybe - and dropped in passing that you and Zeph used to ‘do the horizontal tango’ as she so elegantly put it. Just in passing as if I knew already. Or, maybe she knew I didn’t know and wanted to make me feel insecure, hurt, and inadequate like she always does.” Ozzy raises his eyes, red and puffy, to meet mine. “Why would the fact I slept with one man before we met and didn’t tell you, bother you?” “Because you’re going on tour with a man who’s in love with you! How do I know he won’t woo you back into his bed?” “Because I love you. I have only ever loved you. And I want to keep loving you for the rest of my life.” The tears finally fall with Ozzy’s confession. “Oh Ozzy,” I sob. A few weeks ago, I had planned to ask Ozzy to move in with me tonight, and all along, he was planning to propose.

Clearly, I wasn’t ready for marriage. I didn’t trust Ozzy enough to stay faithful to me on tour. He hadn’t done anything to show he was disloyal since we came home from the villa. And yet at this first test of loyalty, I failed. I let Amy get into my head like the devil serpent she is. “I was going to propose to you tonight Finesse. But I don’t think we’re in the same place in this relationship.” I swallow another sob and nod slowly. “You’re right. We are in different places. But maybe that’s something we can work on. Together.”

[reignmaefall]

Okay this is something I feel very strongly about and want to address. This conversation is something I feel many ppl in the Marauders Fandom need to hear, and hell even ppl outside if it need to hear parts of this. This is going to be a little long ik but I have a lot to say.

1) You say you hate the death eaters and Evan Barty and Reg, and that they're "wizard nazi's". But seriously? Is that what we're doing now? Comparing FICTIONAL men to actual NAZI's??? And whatever argument you have to that, I don't want to hear it. "they were the equivalent" "they were just as bad" no tf they werent? I'm sorry but please dear God do not go around comparing fictional ppl to a real life historical disaster. These people are fictional and you know this. Stop fighting over them like they're real. Ik ik we all want to be one of those dead gay wizards from the 70's but come on we're really fighting like this now? And yeah ik a lot of ppl use this Fandom as an escape (myself included) but sometimes it's really important to live outside of it for a moment. Realize that they're fictional.

2) you "hate that other ships are over looked because teenage girls have a weird thing for gay men". Excuse me? So... anytime there's a popular mlm ship the entire Fandom are girls fetishizing gay men..? Yeah let's not overlook this. This is important. I get that a lot of wlw ships are overlooked in favor of wolfstar and jegulus, I do. But that doesn't mean that we don't know they exist. For example, probably more than half of the ppl that interacted with your post were scrolling through wlw tags, as you tagged nobleflower quillkiller marylily and dorlene (I myself was looking through nobleflower). And we're all teenage girls? Seriously? The only friends of mine in this Fandom are actually men. And yeah I may only have like 3 friends but that shiws something doesn't it? Gay men and enbies are here. They like the ship. We're here. Don't forget about us. I also think it's important to note that the actual marauders were all men, so it shouldn't be much of a surprise that ppl stick to them and their ships more than the girls who are technically side characters.

3) you hate Evan Barty and Reg, but then and go tag it with wlw ships including nobleflower and quillkiller. What im about to say is a VERY important part of the sexism in this world that ppl constantly look over. This is gonna sound kinda controversial at first but hear me out. IT. GOES. BOTH. WAYS. if you hate Regulus Barty and Evan for being deatheaters, hate Bellatrix and Narcissa too. Yes Narcissa redeemed herself but SO DID REGULUS!!!! Regulus canonically tried to single-handedly kill voldemort from the inside. I feel like you've forgotten this. And then there's Bellatrix. If you hate Evan and Barty because they're evil, that doesn't make Bellatrix a "girlboss" and she didn't "slay" no. She was a murderer. And psychotic. And manic. So yeah. If you hate them, hate Narcissa and Bella. This is what ACTUAL equality is.

It's alright if you want to live in your own part of this Fandom, there's nothing wrong with that. What IS wrong is that you announce how horrible everyone is before you leave. Don't tear us down and bolt, because that's what's ACTUALLY wrong with this fandom.

tbh guys im so tired of jegulus so so tired of it i hate how obsessed ppl r with them and i hate how much space they take up in the marauders fandom. i hate that other ships r overlooked bc teenage girls have a weird thing for gay men. i hate the misogyny in this fandom. i hate how yall r willing to die for a bunch of shitty men who are canonically wizard nazis and child abusers because you hate women too much to appreciate them and their stories. i actually just hate everything abt this fandom and i will be living in my own little world from now on 

[vampiricci]

What is self insert and how is that Bella?

A self-insert is defined as “the literary device to have a fictional character represent the author of a work of fiction, either overtly or in disguise.” Meaning that it's a character that can be replaced with the author. It's often frowned upon as a lazy or ��cringy” tool in literature as it removes all the difficult work from creating an intriguing character and simply writing oneself into the story, which can be an uncomfortable read when going over the overly personal fantasies the author places invents in their work. Despite this, however, a self-insert can be used properly if the character is well developed and fits into the story in such a manner where the reader can see an actual character instead of the author’s ideal version of themselves in their fantasy world. For example, being overpowered and completely perfect in the view of what the author considers beautiful, admirable, skilled, etc.

Bella Swan is an overt example of a self-insert, which we can determine from her physical description alone in the book. Bella is described to have a “wide forehead with a widow’s peak,” “heart-shaped face,” “brown eyes,” “pointed chin,” “brown hair,” “pale skin,” etc. All of which can also be attributed to Meyer.

Seen above, the similarities between Meyer and Bella’s description from the Illustrated Guide. Also, this image from TV Tropes discussing self-inserts, outlining Stephenie's similarities to Bella’s description.

This aspect of Bella Swan being a self-insert is clear enough, but doesn't really amount to anything. Appearances are the most insignificant trait of a self-insert, in my opinion.

The actually substantial element of Bella Swan being a self-insert is her fulfilling the role of being the ideal version of the author in their set world. Being so incredibly “unremarkable,” and yet garnering the attention of the hottest, most perfect guy in school who absolutely adores her for reasons she can't comprehend.

Bella as a vampire in breaking dawn is fantastical and quite like a fairytale, getting the man she loves as her 17-year-old husband forever (⚠️) where everything is perfect and she's an exceptionally tame newborn, contrasting intensely with Carlisle’s time spent as a newborn in the depths of self-loathing and despair; which of course is not addressed. Of course, she has a power, supposedly an exceptionally rare occurrence, despite the Olympic Coven having about half of their members with powers (5/9, including Renesmee). Also in Breaking Dawn, she not only has a power, but she has one so powerful that Aro is frightened of how she uses her shield in such a horrifyingly powerful way, overshadowing greater powers like, oh I don't know, the fucking avatar as a goddamn vampire?

This gets troublesome with Meyer’s overt racism in her books, as well as her mysticism of indigenous peoples. Appropriating and misinterpreting Quileute legends while inviting her white protagonist to sit in on a council meeting for the elders of the tribe, with Jacob’s line “you are the first outsider ever [to hear the stories],” illustrating Bella’s exemplary uniqueness that fulfills some colonial bullshit fantasy of Meyer’s.

There's more to say about it but I don't think I have the energy to further explain this. Hopefully, this helped :)

[xxchaotic]

Everlasting - Chapter One : Consequences

A/N: This is a work of fiction (obviously) based on Twilight. I don’t own the storyline or any characters involved. I realize that this first part isn’t very eventful as far as romance, but I’m currently in the process of writing part two! 

Chapter Summary: Y/N Swan goes for a hike in the forrest against her sister’s wishes. When she comes across a red headed woman intent on killing her a pack of insanely large wolves comes to her rescue. She catches the eye of one wolf in particular.

Fic Summary: Y/N Swan is the younger sister of Bella Swan. After months of her sister lying to her and their father, Y/N decides to ignore Bella’s wishes and go for a hike in the woods. A hike that ultimately changes the course of her life. When a pale woman with burning red eyes attacks her and a pack of abnormally large wolves saves her life, Y/N truly thinks she has gone crazy. When the wolf disappears and returns as a boy however, it becomes too much. She passes out right there in the forrest and later wakes to find that she’s been thrown into a world of supernatural beings, one of which is hell bent on killing her sister. There is no foreseeable way out, no way to forget what she’s seen, and Y/n isn’t sure that she can handle all of it. But, hey, at least she found her soulmate. Er, both of them.

Fic Masterlist 

    “You’re kidding, right?”

    The expression that your sister held was one that made you duck your head so as not to have to face her. Without looking up you began to scuff the toe of your boot against a dark spot on the hardwood floor, refusing to meet her gaze. You knew that you were in the wrong. Just a few days ago you told Bella that you wouldn’t go on any more hiking trips, regardless of whether you were by yourself or not. And here you were, in the process of trying to sneak out while she slept in this morning.

      You raised your head, lips parted to tell her that it would be fine and that you wouldn’t be alone, but the look on her face silenced you once more. Instead you pressed your lips together, holding eye contact with her as she continued to glare. After a few moments she huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head in the process. “Do you know how many bear sightings there have been recently?” 

      The worried tone of her voice was genuine. You could tell because of the high pitch and the slightly hysterical undertone as she voiced her concern about you coming face to face with something dangerous like that. But you could also tell that your sister wasn’t being entirely truthful. Yes, the two of you had spent a lot of years apart. Yes, time can change people. But, at her very core, Bella was the same person she’d been in childhood. And the way she held herself, refusing to meet your gaze now and gnawing at her bottom lip, you knew that there was something she wasn’t saying. It was as though you could see a shroud of dishonesty surrounding her, and you fought to not call her out on it. 

      “Yeah, yeah, I know,” you muttered instead, your voice tight as you turned your eyes to the kitchen window that looked over the adjacent line of trees. No doubt Bella could hear the frustration in your voice, just as you could hear the fear in hers, but at this precise moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care. She’d been lying to you and your father for God knows how long now and you’d grown tired of it. 

      Before she could speak again a shrill ring sounded from upstairs, immediately catching the attention of the both of you. Bella’s expression turned eager while yours remained sour, and she gave you a look that said not to move as her feet began to carry her out the door and to the stairs. “I’ll be right back,” she insisted, holding a cautionary hand out to you as she passed by. You snorted at this, shaking your head and crossing your arms just as she had done not even five minutes before. “Yes, please,” you droned, face void of emotion now as you looked over your shoulder at her. “Go answer Edward. Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

      It was impossible to miss the look of irritation that Bella gave you even as she ascended the stairs, taking them two at a time. She was well aware of your dislike for her boyfriend. It was about as obvious as your father’s dislike for him, and your father was not a subtle man. 

      You waited until you heard the telltale creak that told you she’d reached the loose floorboard at the top of the stairs before you turned and grabbed your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder. As you did so you hurried out of the kitchen and through the living room, only stopping to unlock the front door before you passed through it and closed it behind you. No doubt Bella would be occupied with her phone call for a few minutes and that gave you just enough time to get a head start into your hike. Call it being hardheaded or stubborn, but you weren’t in the mood to listen to your sister today.

      A mistake on your part, you would realize later.

******

      Hiking was one of your favorite pastimes. The way the sunlight shone through the trees, highlighting the vast greenery, and the cold air burned your lungs whenever you inhaled.. Well, it gave you a feeling of peace like nothing else. There were numerous paths to take, multiple destinations that you could set out for, and you considered each one as you began your trek through the dense forrest.

      It wasn’t until you’d been walking for nearly half an hour that you realized you’d chosen a path without realizing it. The direction in which you were headed would lead you uphill for a little over an hour, eventually ending at the edge of a field full of delicate white flowers. It was one of your favorite places to go, so you were more than happy to continue on.

      About fifteen minutes later, when you were nearly to the end of the trail, you stumbled and had to catch yourself on your hands and knees to avoid getting a face full of grass and dirt. A tiny stone just so happened to be occupying the spot where the heel of your left hand landed and you hissed at the stinging sensation as one of the jagged edges cut into your skin. A line of red was already blossoming when you stood and lifted your hand to inspect it, causing you to huff and scrub the evidence away on the fabric of your dark pants. You couldn’t help but think that, no matter how minor the wound, of course it would be your luck to fall and injure yourself on your hike. As different as you and your sister may be, you were both equally as clumsy and accident prone.

      Somewhere off to your right, in a thick cluster of trees, you just barely caught movement from the corner of your eye. It looked like a flash of fiery red passing through the sea of green and your brows pulled together in confusion as you turned your head and considered what it could have been. Perhaps a fox, though you weren’t entirely sure if they inhabited this area. You knew you’d never seen one before, at least.

      After waiting for a few moments with your eyes trained on the spot where you’d last seen whatever it was passing by, you figured it had disappeared further into the forrest. With a shrug of your shoulders you turned to resume your hike, unable to ignore the fact that the space around you had become eerily silent. Not even the chirping of the birds could be heard now, and it put you on edge more than you’d like to admit. 

      When you turned back to the path that you’d been following, you expected to see nothing but the same foliage that you’d been passing through since you ventured into the woods. Instead, you came face to face with a strikingly beautiful woman. Her skin almost glowed, it was so pale. Her fiery red hair hung in ringlets, falling down past her shoulders, and her eyes.. Her eyes alone nearly stopped your heart because they burned a deep red, almost like the color of freshly spilled blood. 

      An involuntary, frightened gasp passed through your lips and you stumbled backwards, trying to put space between yourself and the stranger that had seemingly appeared out of thin air. The only move she made was to smirk at you, otherwise standing completely still as you increased the distance between the both of you. It took you a minute to form a coherent thought, and even then all you could manage to get out was, “W-what… Who…” 

      Apparently your inability to speak a complete sentence was amusing to her and she allowed her smirk to stretch into a full-blown grin, laughing a high-pitched laugh that reminded you of a child’s. “Cat got your tongue?” she teased, her voice ringing like bells, and she took a small step forward. This caused you to stumble backwards again and your heel hit an exposed tree root, sending you sprawling on the forrest floor. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs and you struggled to get up and move away as she continued her slow stalk towards you. 

      Somehow, deep down, you knew her intentions. Perhaps it was the predatory look in her eyes, or the way she held herself as she moved forward, but you felt it deep in your bones. She was going to kill you. 

      The overwhelming fear that you felt had you closing your eyes in hopes of it all disappearing, though it didn’t do you very much good. The red headed woman still came to a stop by your side and reached down to wrap her ice cold fingers around your wrist, yanking you into a standing position. Her grip was like a vice and you cried out in pain, leaning as far away from her as you could.

      “Don’t spoil the fun,” she taunted you, a grin still tugging at her lips as she leaned in and inhaled deeply. It took you a moment to realize that she was smelling you and you instinctively cringed away from her, beginning to hyperventilate. It had been years since you’d had a true panic attack. If a situation ever called for one, though, this was it.

      “Please don’t,” you begged, gasping when her grip tightened even more. Surely the pressure would break your bones. “That’s not very different,” she scolded, fake pouting as her eyes searched your face. “Do you know how many people have said that to me? Or how many times it didn’t matter?” That high pitched, cruel laugh rang out again and you squeezed your eyes shut once more, not wanting to watch as whatever horrible end fate held in store for you played out. 

      You felt her tug you forward by your wrist, and then felt an odd sensation along the palm of your hand. For a few moments you couldn’t place it, and didn’t want to open your eyes and find out. Then, with a shock, you realized exactly what it was.

      Had she really just licked up the trail of blood from the cut on the heel of your hand?

      You felt like you were going to be sick.

      The nausea was so distracting for a moment that you didn’t realize her movements had stilled. When you did, you couldn’t help but hold your breath. Is this when she would make her move? Is this the moment she would kill you? Still, though, nothing happened.

      Seconds ticked away while you gained the courage to peel open your eyes, and when you finally did you were relieved to find that her attention was not on you. Her burning red eyes were gazing over your shoulder, into the trees just behind you. A snarl ripped its way up from her chest, nearly stopping your heart once again, and all of a sudden she was no longer holding you. You were dropped in a heap to the damp ground and you stayed as still as possible in the process, fearing that any move or sound would bring her focus back to you. Suddenly she was no longer there, though. She’d turned on her heel and disappeared without so much as a glance in your direction.

      There were only a few seconds following her departure that you were able to breathe properly again before what seemed like a herd of wildebeest stampeded by you. You shrieked, both in fear and shock, and rolled to the side while covering your head with your arms. You only glimpsed bits of fur, paws, and one razor sharp set of teeth before they, too, disappeared and then you were alone once more. 

      The aching pain you felt in your wrist was the only indication that you weren’t dreaming at this point. You lay on the ground, breathing fast and hard while you tried to make sense of the events that had just taken place. The ground still shook with the pounding footsteps of the monsters that had just passed you by. You weren’t entirely sure, but you thought it was a pack of wolves. Very large, very fast wolves.

      Any sane person would have gotten up and ran at that point. And perhaps you weren’t completely sane. Hell, anybody would tell you that if you tried to explain everything you’d just witnessed. But you didn’t get up. You didn’t run. You simply remained in the same position, attempting to steady your breathing while your mind continued to race. A million questions were knocking around in your head, too many to focus on just one at a time, and you were very quickly becoming overwhelmed. Your second panic attack of the day was fast approaching and you felt completely immobilized due to the fear that gripped you.

      Until, that is, you heard noise in the trees behind you. In one quick, fluid motion you sat up and rolled onto your knees, eyes scanning the area where the noise had come from. No flashes of red, thank God. But there was something else, something emerging from the shadows slowly…

      Your breath caught in your throat as one of the wolves- yes, definitely wolves- from earlier strolled out onto the open path. It was the size of a small car, maybe even larger than that, and it had sleek silver fur. Its dark eyes watched you intently and you met its gaze without even realizing you’d done so. As if on cue, the wolf stopped in its tracks and stared at you with what seemed like a dazed expression. Almost like you were the one that intimidated him and not the other way around. 

      Seconds ticked away, turning into minutes as the wolf continued to stare and your wild heartbeat gradually slowed and resumed its normal pace. You kept telling yourself that if the wolf were going to attack, it would have done so already.. Right?

      He was the one to make the first move. Slowly, as though he was being careful not to frighten you again, the large wolf took a step forward. First one, then another, until he was walking towards you at a steady pace. It didn’t take him long to close the distance, considering his size and the fact that there hadn’t been much space between you to begin with. 

      When he reached you he came to a stop, his nose mere inches from your face. His eyes stayed on yours for a brief moment, then dropped down. Following his gaze, you realized he was looking at your wrist which was already decorated with blue and purple splotches where the woman’s fingers had been. A low growl rumbled in the wolf’s chest and you flinched, using your opposite hand to cover your bruised skin. 

      His eyes met yours again and he made a sound that was like a huff. Before you could even blink, his massive head swung around to look over his shoulder and he made the huffing sound again before turning back to you. His eyes fixed you with a hard stare that was meant to root you in place, and without another sound he turned and loped off into the forrest. 

      Tension that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding suddenly left you, and your shoulders drooped as you breathed a heavy sigh. It had seemed like the wolf wanted you to stay where you were, but you knew if you were smart then you’d take your chance to leave. You also knew that, if you did decide to try to escape, the wolf would be able to catch up to you with little to no effort. So you stayed.

      It didn’t take long for you to hear the telltale sound of twigs snapping and leaves rustling, signaling that something was headed towards you. Where you expected a wolf to emerge from the tree line, though, there came a boy. He was easily over six feet tall, very muscle-y, with russet skin and dark hair. What stood out the most about him, though, was the expression currently on his face. Nervousness looked very odd on him.

      “Are you okay?” he questioned, his voice carrying easily over to you. It was a nice sound; deep and authoritative, but also laced with worry. Finding yourself mute again, you simply nodded while you openly gaped. Where had the wolf gone? How had this boy found you here? Why did he seem to know that you’d been through some terrifying ordeal? And why was he watching you as though you were the absolute most important thing in the world?

      All these questions and more hit you like a ton of bricks, one after another, causing you to sway on your feet. The boy immediately rushed over to put a supportive hand on your arm. “You look like you’re going to pass out,” he insisted, panic in his tone now, and you laughed a humorless laugh as you looked up at him. “Yeah, I might.” And a second later, when you realized that the eyes you were currently staring into were those of the wolf from earlier, you did exactly that.

      Your last conscious thought was that you would have stayed home if you had known the consequences of not listening to your sister.

[weaselbeaselpants]

"-the baseline of harm to children isn’t people like Lily Orchard. It doesn’t start at the most extreme cases and it doesn’t stay there. The safety of children is not about fandom and it’s not about you- "

Unironically preach. That's cool. Otherwise, hon- you are actively saying that the creators are predatory for making the Running with Scissors plot and you are insisting that I am a direct harm to minors for saying "valid, but also no".

If I assumed this was all fandom bizz and not something that's honestly offensive and you think truly harmful than fine- that one's on me. But I'm sorry I can't agree with your exact assessment regardless of all the feelings I have about the show.

-" Also, with twilight, the depiction is of an all but impossible age gap: Bella’s 16-18, and Edward’s 107. How many teenage girls did you know or hear about that had 107 year old boyfriends? "- um, the line is "how long have you been 17?" There's literally a robot chicken joke about how Edward has the brain of an old geezer while Bella's still a physical and mental teenager- everyone knows about this problem. It's been a problem for as long as people have known about twilight. ALSO- I was not just referring to Bella and Edward disturbing mental agegap. Did you forget about Renesme and groomer Jaccob?? If you want to issue a genuine criticism of a piece of media on moral grounds you can't just dismiss other people's criticism because you don't personally see or feel that way.

I am being defensive because you came onto my post about a ship I don't particularly like anyway and insisted to me and your own following that I am downplaying/don't care about childabuse because I don't agree exactly-completely with your assessment. You are basically telling me that you ought to agree exactly with your take away or ELSE I'M JUST AS BAD and no, no I don't. That's not fair and that's not a genuine means of holding discourse or this discussion.

-Star is 14-16, and Marco is 26-35. How many teenage girls did you know or hear about who had boyfriends in their 20s and 30s? I was related to one. I knew several. I heard of hundreds, thousands. I’m 27, my body could look like a 15 year old’s again, and I would still be 27. I have experienced 27 years of human time and life experiences, I have the power of having lived nearly 3 decades. A child does not have that. They cannot. That’s not how children work. A child can THINK they have that, the most experience they’ve ever had being a human is only as long as they’ve been alive-

That's absolutely awful.

The problem is you are literally imparting real world physics and ideas onto these cartoon characters and fictional situations - a situation which, again, I'm sorry but I don't see the show or the writers literally confirming that Marco is actually 25 or even trying to lust over him or ship Star with him as a 25 y old. In the show he returns to his own word and in his own word he's still 15. I wish the show didn't make that joke for so many reasons but I think it's it's own kind of amoral on your side to accuse the creators and myself of ever actively wanting harm on real life children or even endangering real children by simply going "eh, hate that episode", "no, Marco's still physically and even mentally probably a kid even though the show made it weird". You are being so...deadly finite about this matter. You are accusing me of something unnecessary. I'm 27 myself, hon, and I experienced all sorts of bad behavior and know muchmuch WORSE especially from my days in the brony fandom. I know people who have suffered much worse than myself and it's horrendous. Don't you dare talk to me about 'downplaying harm caused to minors' when I'm working up a think piece about how adult proshitters are calling minors "puriteens" just for existing here, and how those same proshitters don't want to face the fact that the reason tumblr banned nudity was because some users were posting cp. They were. That does not mean everyone was doing it, but it was bad and it's time we stop hiding away from that fact.

Since this isn't a matter of fandom pro or anti bs than I just got to say I am very, genuinely sorry for that.

I am not saying your intentions are wrong or any of your criticism is invalid - good lord, they're valid - I am saying you are being needlessly accusatory and harmful on your own front and there's no need for it. This conversation is spiraling out of control publicly and done waiting for one or the other to reply.

Reply to me on messenger on your own time or don't reply at all.

As someone who doesn't care for Star and Marco or Starco at all, it speaks volumes to me that the fanbase and critics still treat the shipping problem like that was the main problem with Star vs the Forces of Evil.

It wasn't. SVTFOE's biggest problem will always be that it's finale was WAAAAAAAY to rushed, not which horny teenaged characters decided they were dating now in their status quo. You can tell it was rushed because even the romantic subplot seen in the end was butchered.

[wpdarlingpan]

How would yandere Damian Wayne react to his beloved having a fondness for books? Will he get jealous that she keeps gushing about non existent fictional characters? Lol I have a feeling he will 🤣

I absolutely love this idea, it was fun to write.

Trigger Warning: Abuse

(Not on Damians end but Y/N’s father)

Nothing descriptive and very brief.

~*~

Damian had met his beloved at school after she was the only one who didn’t chase after him. She didn’t even seem to notice he was there. He was determined to change that.

The first day they talked he introduced himself, waiting to see her reaction to his last name but gained nothing more than a polite introduction from herself than she returned back to the book she was reading before he interrupted her. If she hadn’t got immersed back into the book than she would have seen the surprised look adorning the young Wayne’s face.

From there on he was determined to know everything about her. He used the bat computer to find out that she lived with her father in a nice house near his own. Her mother died during child birth and she had no siblings. Damian wished he didn’t have ‘siblings’ even if he never called them that. Well... maybe Grayson. But Todd could go along with Drake.

He decided to go to her house to check in on her and his excuse was to gather intel, but what he saw was not what he was prepared for. Damian saw Y/N’s Father yelling at her as if she had nine something terrible. Damian watched as the man cursed out his young daughter making Damian scowl and tighten his hands into fists. But they suddenly stopped fighting so Damian left as he had school tomorrow and he wanted to talk to you then. If he had stayed a second longer he’d have seen her getting locked into the cupboard under the stairs without dinner.

But luckily for her she had books. She read hunger games, Harry Potter, and many more. Even twilight even though she absolutely despised the ‘Bella’ character. But they all had love. She loved to read about love and the feeling of euphoria it gave people.

“Maybe one day.” She thought to herself.

The next day Damian Wayne talked to her again. He made more progress but it was hard to keep her away from her book.

It continued for weeks and then to months. He had slowly broke down her barrier and she finally stopped ditching him to read a book.

After 3 months of talking and Damian following her around daily to make sure she was safe he finally asked her on a date.

She met him at the park during sundown. When she arrived there was a picnic blanket with a basket on it and a couple of cushions. She saw someone walk up to her from where they were sat by a tree and they gently grabbed her hand and led her to the set up.

“Do you like it?” Damian asked nervously. He knew that this date was what determined his future plans. She was his beloved even if she didn’t exactly know yet. If she didn’t like the date or found out she didn’t like him the same way he loved her than she would learn to with force and time or she could love the date and he will spend every moment of the day with her after he asks her to be his.

She smiled widely, liked it? She loved it! It was exactly like something out of a book. A grand romantic gesture.

He smirked at her smile and he just knew he was already successful in gaining her feelings. He noticed the shiny glint in her eyes.

“I love it Damian. Thank you.” She spoke smiled at him and leaned over to give him a hug making his heart spike with happiness.

They had a wonderful date and it resulted with a 2nd and 3rd one. Then he dropped the question and she couldn’t bring herself to say anything but yes.

Even as she noticed that some of the few friends she had distanced themselves from her after she agreed to be Damians girlfriend after the 3rd date.

Even when some of her romance books began to disappear, which is what really made her sad. Once she told Damian with tears in her eyes that a. Few of her books were missing he gave in and hid them in her room for her to find the next day.

That’s when something happens. Y/N’s father was killed in a police shooting after he had assisted the Joker himself on a robbery. Worst part was Y/N found out over the news.

Damian was very happy with the news of the death fo his beloveds dad. He found out about the abuse after he snuck in to her house the second time and heard a lock click with no Y/N in sight.

Damian told his father about the girl and Damian played his fathers weaknesses against him he told him that she was abused and that she needed help. She needed to be safe. That thing that convinced him finally was that Damian told Bruce that she was the one and Bruce’s eyes widened greatly before he moved into a smirk. Of course his son had found his beloved, Bruce was a Yandere too of course, where else would Damian have got the tendencies from? His mother Talia or his grandfather Ra’s? They both would be caught dead saying the four letter word.

That’s how Y/N was adopted by the Wayne’s.

That’s how she ended up staying in the room next to Damians.

That’s how she ended up being with him 24 hours a day, since he got his classes switched so he was in all of hers but when it was questioned it was for academic reasons.

Y/N was sad though. She had no friends other than Damian. Her father was dead, her mother was dead, she had no family. No matter how bad her father treated her all she could think was that she deserved the pain.

A month after the shooting Damians Yandere side began to progress. She wasn’t allowed out of the Manor without being accompanied by him if she was allowed to leave at all.

She had been taken out of school alongside Damian by Bruce at the request of his son who didn’t like that boys and girls were looking at his beautiful beloved.

He was obsessed with his love.

A few months after living in the manor, meeting everyone, and adjusting to Damians possessiveness and rules she was doing okay. She wouldn’t dare go against Damian after he had guilt tripped her after she said she wanted to be alone for awhile and take a walk. Damian was glad that she was so easily manipulated that she didn’t even attempt to fight his love. He had to protect her form the cruel world he had experienced first hand. Her kindness, innocence, and trusting nature would get her killed in Gotham. But there was nothing to worry about because he was there to protect her. He always would be.

But she grew slightly distant from Damian after she began reading the books in the Wayne Library. There was a whole room stocked shelf by shelf with books.

She had been in there reading a book where the main character was trained with a sword and was a Assassin but he fell in love with his target. That’s where Damian saw her after he had been searching for after he began to getting annoyed after being away from her for so long.

“What are you reading My Beloved?” She had gotten used to the nickname and would slightly blush at every use of it. It was another thing that seemed like it was straight out of a book, he was her knight in shining armor.

“It’s called His Mission, His Love. It’s about this dashing guy who can sword fight and is a very skilled Assassin. He falls in love with the girl he was supposed to assassinate for his group of assassins. But he failed it by falling in love. I haven’t found out what happens yet. He sort of reminds me of Finnick from that other book I told you about, Hunger games remember? Well he wields a trident and it looks super cool and...” she was cut off from Damian snatching the book from her hands and shutting it without even marking her page making her lose her page.

“Hey!” She cried out as he tossed the book across the room. He scowled when she yelled at him which result in him standing directly in front of her as she sat on the couch and he leaned down to her height the grabbed her chin making her face towards him instead of that insufferable book he had tossed across the room.

“You don’t need that book got it? You have me, and you only need me.” He spoke looking into her eyes as his face was only inches apart from her own.

“But...” she began to say. She loved books, it was nice to image the love. But she couldn’t exactly say she didn’t know the feeling for herself now after dating Damian. He had done so much for her to keep her safe and well after he father died.

“I can sword fight, I’m a assassin, I am even more handsome and richer than any character in those terribly pointless books. You don’t need them when you have me.”

She looked at him weirdly and that’s when he realized that in a fit of jealousy - over a book character- he admitted by secret he hadn’t told her yet.

“Assassin? Fighting? What are you taking about Damian.”

He rolled his eyes at her but explained.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m Robin. My fathers batman, Graysons Nightwing, Todd is Red Hood, and Drake is Red Robin.” He watched as her eyes widened making him begin to lose himself in the beautiful eyes he loved so dearly.

“Really?” She said in disbelief but it did make sense. But that’s when she suddenly blushed at a thought and by the fact it took her so long to blush Damian was thinking that she was thinking back to her book character again as her eyes darted away from him coincidentally to where the book was.

“What are you thinking about My Beloved?” he demanded in a cool tone that was laced with jealously. He grip on her chin tighten a little more and his other hand laid on her waist.

She murmured something he couldn’t hear which was very surprising as he was so close to her.

“Repeat what you said but louder. Please” he spoke waiting for her to say she was thinkjnt about the assassin from her book but he wasn’t prepared for what she would say.

“I used to have a crush on Robin, he is my favorite.” She spoke then closed her eyes willing the blush that adorned her cheeks to disappear.

This would be the first time that Damian let out a huge smile and a slight laugh of disbelief.

“I pictured him... or well you as the character from my book because of the similarities.” She spoke still lightly dying from embarrassment which worsened when he scooped her up from the couch and into his arms before kissing her face multiple times while she laughed at the feeling. Then he sat down o the couch with her in his lap, not letting go as she tried to climb out of it.

“Stay here My Beloved. Why don’t I tell you real stories?”

And that was how Damian got jealous... over himself.

And how Y/N found out the identity’s of the Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and most of all Robin.

And it all started because of a book.