#dramatical murder diaries

[semetarycosplay]

I’ve never actually played the game and the anime was absolute garbage but I will take any excuse to be a little sl*t boy.  Photos: Yuki Cat Captures

[eeunwoo]

hhhh

[rad-batson]

Damian Wayne Headcanons :) in which I give him actual character growth, suck it dc writers

this is extremely long, I am not sorry

He has literally no footsteps, you cannot hear him walk, even when he stomps around in one of those moods, it’s just barely a little *pat pat pat*

He doodles on everything. With everything. Some Gothamites have found intricate floral designs etched into the roof or random brick walls (most likely with a knife) after seeing Robin patrol.

He has like 20 weighted blankets, all different weights and sizes depending on his mood.

His favorite item in his room is a silver Nintendo DS. (He likes to use the little chat rooms, even if no one else is on the other end. He doodles and writes little messages. It’s like his diary.)

He loves all animals, and that includes the creepy ones. Especially the creepy ones.

Once, Tim started screaming bloody murder over a massive bug with a bajillion legs in his room. Damian now houses it in an enclosure in his bedroom. Her name is Mildred, Millie for short.

When he was in the LoA, he was forbidden from stimming in front of others. It took two years for anyone in the batfamily to ever witness him stimming.

His most common stimming behaviors are shaking out his hands, scratching his palms, and rubbing his hands across different surfaces. When he’s really stressed, he’ll snap his fingers.

He absolutely hates cameras. They’re loud and make him uncomfortable. One reporter almost got scratched when they got too close to him with the flash on. He only barely tolerates the security cameras in the manor. Barely.

He can and will be roped into any dare imaginable. Bruce repeatedly forbids him from taking dares from his siblings for months at a time.

He has a compartment in his utility belt dedicated to treats for any animal he sees on patrol.

When he’s tired, he’ll speak a mixture of Arabic, Mandarin, and English. Only Bruce can make sense of it, and occasionally Jason.

Bruce absolutely refuses to yell at Damian. Even if some of his other kids argue that he’s being too nice, he’ll only use his Batman voice and his Soft But Disappointed Dad Voice, but he will Never yell.

(He doesn’t tell them it’s because of what happened the first and only time he yelled at Damian. Bruce moved his hand a bit, and Damian flinched wildly. Bruce cried for hours over the implications of that.)

Damian only feels comfortable sitting if he can clearly see the main entrance. If not, he’ll sit with his back against a wall or he’ll stand.

He dutifully takes the responsibility of feeding and grooming every Wayne animal. They receive the most nutritious and filling meals on the market (all while receiving lots of head pats.)

He has very strong eyebrows just like his father. They tend to pull the same exasperated expressions too, highlighting their resemblance.

Talia taught Damian at a very young age how to write perfectly with both hands. He no longer remembers if he is naturally left or right-handed.

The one insult he cannot handle is “spoiled brat.” A few months after he arrived, someone in the family called him that as a joke, and he completely shut down emotionally. No anger, no sadness, no resentment. Literally just nothing. For days. No one knows why, but they will never let it happen again.

You know he’s Up to Something TM if he swings his legs back and forth while he sits.

He is obsessed with those cheap TV documentaries about famous plane crashes and shipwrecks. After finishing one, he’ll find the nearest family member and tell them all about it: how it happened, what human error caused it, and his fool-proof plan for if it ever happens again and he is nearby. Usually, it’s Alfred.

For the first few years at the manor, Damian’s favorite spot is the family graveyard. Everyone calls him dramatic. He just likes how it’s so quiet. (And he’s dramatic.)

When Jason waxes poetics about dying over dinner, Damian just groans and says, “So have I. You’re not special.” That’s how the family learns he was repeatedly revived in the Lazarus Pit due to the fatal nature of his training and abuse.

His first ever crush was on the cute male tech at Alfred the Cat’s vet. Damian was 12. Jason, who accompanied him, proceeded to give him both The Talk (“It’s okay to like boys”) and The Talk (“Your body is ✨changing✨”) on the drive home.

He will not text back unless it is absolutely necessary. He will leave people on read. He does not hate you. (…Probably.)

Titus is a registered therapy dog, trained in helping Damian through panic attacks and sensory overload. If you ever see Damian asleep on the floor, eyes cried out with Titus resting on top of him, you know why.

When he was 13, he tried to fake his own death after he failed a test at school and “dishonored the family name.” Bruce and Dick had to sit him down and explain that grades aren’t everything, and they still love him unconditionally.

He talks to animals like they’re human. He has a habit of venting his frustrations to Batcow in particular. And his fish while he feeds them.

His love language to others is a mixture of gifts and quality time, usually without words.

One day, Damian was snooping around the house and found that one of the electrical closets leads to a tiny space—barely two feet wide—in between the sheetrock and the foundation wall with nothing but a single hanging lightbulb. It took years before anyone else found it, but by then, Damian had painted an 8x10 ft mural on the wall and created a small bed of blankets and pillows for when he needs a quiet place to escape unwanted stimuli.

When he sleeps, his cheeks puff out like a little chipmunk. It’s adorable.

During the Winter Olympics one year, Damian falls in love with figure skating and decides he wants to try it out, but he never asks to take up lessons in fear that he will be horrible at it.

Duke figures this out and now takes him ice skating just enough to avoid suspicion. It’s become their bonding activity.

Once, Jason and Tim made him try a Sour Patch Kids-flavored energy drink. He immediately spit it out and said, “What the fuck?! That’s even worse than drinking from the Lazarus Pit.” And that’s how the family learns that Ra’s made Damian drink from the Lazarus Pit a few times.

One day, Steph told Damian about the wonders of concealed self defense products. Now, about 80% of the mundane items Damian owns is secretly a knife. He will purchase any item that is secretly a knife. Including several fake lipstick tubes.

He has rigorous self-control when it comes to sleep. Sure, his schedule is a bit fucked up for someone his age, but he is in bed and asleep exactly when he tells himself. (His siblings could never.)

His entire wardrobe is soft items he “found” stole from the laundry room. If it’s comfortable, it’s his now. (No one complains. In fact, having Damian steal your clothes is considered a privilege.)

He hates whenever Alfred tries to recreate dishes from his childhood. It’s just not the same. Alfred understands.

When he’s really stressed—like the “I am one stubbed toe away from a complete meltdown” stressed—he will finger paint. He likes the feeling of it on his skin.

Due to his time in the LoA, Damian has a habit of never telling anyone if he’s injured. Instead, he’ll pretend nothing’s wrong until he passes out or literally can’t move right and someone calls him out. He’s working on it, though.

There’s a massive system of fish tanks in his room complete with handmade decor and multiple venomous species. No one even realizes until Alfred mentions it during dinner.

He has hyper fixated at least once on every single artistic medium you can imagine. His top three are oil paintings, mosaics, and pottery, but he mostly sticks to drawing in his free time.

He has taste tested all of his pets’ treats at one point for “research purposes.”

Giving friends their own nickname is one of the most intimate things Damian does to express his relationship with someone.

Once, he was having an argument with a sibling, and they said, “Oh yeah? Well at least Bruce wanted me!” Damian didn’t leave his room for exactly six days. He even stapled blackout curtains to his windows and the vents. Bruce chewed the shit out of whoever said it and spent hours every day talking to Damian through the door to convince him that, yes, Bruce wants him and couldn’t ever think of a family without him. Damian didn’t come out, however, until he heard Bruce crying while begging him to eat. Damian slept in Bruce’s bed that night and the following week.

When he turns 15, he gets really obsessed with Måneskin.

He’s exactly the kind of Art Hoe that is completely loyal to his favorite brand of art supplies and wouldn’t touch other brands with a 10ft pole.

He has weirdly thin fingers. Like creepily thin, especially as he grows older. Someone commented on them once, and Damian proceeded to wear gloves nonstop for a week.

There are exactly four (4) people who are allowed to touch him without permission first. Dick, Jon, Bruce, and Talia in that order.

His eyes are actually naturally blue. The reason they are green is because of the Lazarus Pit. It’s always the Lazarus Pit. (They barely glow in the dark too, but you need to really pay attention to notice.)

He can wiggle his ears. The only people to ever witness it are Cass and Duke. They’ve been sworn to secrecy.

Whenever one of his many pets sleeps in his bed, he tries to stay as still as possible without touching them so they don’t get annoyed and leave, but they always worm their way into his arms.

As he grows, his family is surprised to learn that he isn’t building the same muscle as his dad. Instead, he’s lean like his mother due to an extremely fast metabolism. He eats a lot to maintain proper health. (His cheeks are still puffy when he sleeps, though. And when he smiles.)

Dick is his emergency contact for school, partially because Dick isn’t as busy, partially due to that time Bruce “died,” but mostly because Damian is terrified of disappointing Bruce if he ever gets in trouble. Thankfully, Dick is convincing Damian otherwise.

His favorite ever birthday gift comes from Tim. It’s a pottery studio he spent months building on their property in secret with several pottery wheels and a kiln.

His hands have always had a sort of surgical accuracy to them due to his stealth training, but it never came to the forefront of everyone’s mind until one particular mission when Tim got shot, and they needed to get the bullet out as quickly as possible. Despite being bigger than most of his family members by now, and Tim refusing to stay still the whole time, Damian was the only one capable of taking the bullet out. While riding in the Batmobile. Going 80 mph. Completely painlessly. Damian is immediately given the de facto role of Combat Medic.

Jon likes to send Good morning texts to Damian. At first, he didn’t know about the “only responds if it’s an emergency” thing, though, so he decided to stop after a few weeks of Damian never replying. Within an hour of not getting the usual text, Damian was at Jon’s house in full Robin gear to make sure he was okay.

He and Steph like to paint each other’s nails when one of them is stressed. After Damian comes out as pansexual, Steph paints little pride flags on his fingers.

He only plays Minecraft on creative mode. He likes building farms and wildlife preserves.

At 16, he gets asked out by a pretty girl in school that Damian had a crush on last year, but he thinks it’s a joke because he can’t fathom anyone liking him so he turns her down.

As he grows, his looks become more androgynous, again eerily resembling his mother, but his voice drops low enough that it doesn’t cause much misgendering.

Then he starts thinking of his gender a bit more and wonders if he’s also a They.

He likes to paint all over the soles of his shoes whenever he gets a new pair. No one will ever really see it, of course, and it eventually wears off the more he walks, but he knows it’s there.

It’s a nice day in the park. He’s doing homework on a picnic table while Titus and Ace run around, and he can’t stop thinking about his future.

Yesterday, there was a school assembly about choosing a career path. Alfred slid him an SAT prep book during breakfast. And his class was assigned one of those “Which career path is best for you?” quizzes.

He gets Veterinarian.

It takes a full five minutes as Damian stares at the results, thinking about the crazy, out-of-this-world idea of not being a vigilante or assassin his entire life, what it would be like if he just turned his back on the future which was so carefully laid out in front of him since birth, before it clicks into place.

Damian doesn’t want to be Batman.

He doesn’t want to lead the LoA either.

Two years later, Damian enrolls in Gotham University and majors in Wildlife Biology on the Pre-Vet track with a minor in Studio Arts. He gets a dorm room, works in the pottery studio, and volunteers at the local animal shelter.

He is content.

Does some of this stray from canon? Yes. However, I do not give a rat’s ass. Thank you, and goodnight.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Twenty: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/ spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT, [All possible tags listed, all may not apply] GORE, MURDER

Info: Aw ur having such a cute dinner party... wtf is that?? [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

”Jesus Anakin, what happened?” You gasped, seeing the damaged door of his car as he walked you toward it. You crouched down and touched the big scrape, feeling the dented and scratch metal beneath your fingertips with a wince as you turned to look up at him, you were surprised to see a little smile on his face when you’d expected one of annoyance or anger.

”Some little girl backed into it.” He snickered, giving you a hand up from your squatted position. “Looks like there are worse drivers than you out in the world. Makes me shudder to think about.” He dramatically shivered, opening up your car door for you and guiding you into your seat with a hand on your ass.

”Was she alright?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed when he plopped himself down in the drivers seat and slammed the door shut. 

“Yeah, it was a stationary accident. She was fine, just real upset.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair before starting the car and reaching over to put a hand on your thigh while he drove. “She had the tiniest dent and just a bit of paint on the bumper. Worried sick her momma would be mad about the insurance going up.”

”Oh poor thing.” You winced, knowing all too well the worry of something like that happening from experience.

”No, don’t ‘poor thing’ her.” He snorted, patting your thigh affectionately. “I told her to get some WD-40 and a magic eraser, it’ll fix it up and her mom won’t notice the dent for a while, its so small.” 

“Well what are you gonna do about your car?” You asked, feeling a strange mixture of pride in Anakin for taking care of the issue for the young girl and a dash of irritation that he’d be paying for the damage on his car when it wasn’t even his fault.

”Cliegg will take care of it.” Anakin shrugged, clearly unbothered by the whole situation.

”Really?” You raised an eyebrow in surprise, not realizing his stepfather had any auto-body experience.

”Yeah, we’ll buff the paint and pop the dent out, its no big deal doll.” He said reassuringly. Squeezing your knee as he drove the short distance back home. 

After arriving at your apartment you were pleasantly surprised to see that your entire apartment was spotless. The dishes were gone, the trash had been taken out, the floors vacuumed and mopped so well that you could catch a whiff of the faint scent of the cleaning solution he’d used. Even the basket of laundry had been emptied and put away. It was so nice to come home to a clean, fresh smelling home like this, you’d missed it so much more than you’d realized. 

It nearly made your heart ache. 

“Anakin you didn’t have to do all this.” You turned around, giving him an appreciative smile and swallowing the little lump in your throat that was trying to creep up and stop your breathing. 

“I know that princess,” He said softly, the corner of his mouth curving up into a smile. “I just thought you might be able to relax a little better if i took care of it for you.”

”Thank you for being so sweet.” You whispered, inching closer to him until you were able to rest your head against his chest and allow him to hold you close.

“Anything for you doll,” He murmured, pressing his lips to the crown of your head lovingly. “You’re all tense sweetheart.” 

Anakin rubbed your back, one hand cupping the base of your skull, his fingertips gently scratching your scalp. After a moment of standing there comforting you, he pulled back and stroked your cheek with his thumb. He sighed, smiling down at you like you’d hung the moon just for him, you couldn’t help but blush. It was an endearing quality of his, the ability to love you so thoroughly that he didn’t even have to speak the words aloud. It often made you wonder if you exuded that same warm feeling for him, you wanted him to feel it like you did. 

It was odd, how one minute you were so completely enraptured in Anakin’s presence and the next you were punching down every guilty feeling or idea threatening to interrupt those sweet little daydreams. It seemed nearly impossible to get through a single line of thought without being intercepted and hijacked. It made you not want to think at all, made you wonder what it would be like to feel nothing but a void in your soul, not the kind that ached, the kind that burned your stomach and clawed your throat. You wanted the kind that was far removed from emotion the kind of void that was blank, empty and cold.

“Sorry, I- I was just thinking about getting in the shower.” you leaned back to look up into his face before getting to extricate yourself from his embrace.

“Let me come with you?” Anakin murmured, not entirely a question but not really a demand either. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” You said quietly, you had missed him of course, but there was someone out there you missed more. Not due to lack of love for Anakin, simply because it had felt like years since you’d spoken to the hunter who owned you as prey.

“Yeah, c’mon Ani.” Your voice a soft tone, hoping he’d accept the sudden subdued moment between you as one of reined in lust, rather than one of longing for another.

Anakin didn’t seem to notice, too busy ushering you toward the bathroom while he was ripping his clothing off. Whipping his shirt off over his head so aggressively that you heard one of the stitches pop, soon followed by the clattering of his belt and soft thud of his jeans hitting the bathroom floor.

“Mm.” Anakin grunted in a pleased manner as he watched you undress and toss your clothes into the laundry basket. “I love that pretty little set.” 

He whistled low and lustful as he stepped forward to fully appreciate the delicate fabric of your matching bra and panties. The snug bra had a cute, innocently sexy quality to it, the white and pink lace contrasting beautifully with your skin, the panties nearly entirely see through in the best way.

Anakin couldn’t stop smiling as he guided his palms over the soft planes of your physique as if he were seeing it for the first time all over again. Pausing his rough fingertips at the center of your spine he flicked his tongue out against your bottom lip and down your cheek to lave at your neck as a public declaration in purple. Both hands left a fiery wake as they slipped beneath the band of your bra and popped the clasp loose.

“Never gets old.” He shook his head and whispered quietly. “Every time I fall in love all over again.” 

“Ani, n-not yet.” You stuttered as he started to drag his tongue across your chest, goosebumps cropping up over your flesh so rapidly that it startled you. “At least let me rinse off the restaurant stink!” You squealed as he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you into the shower.

”Brace yourself.” He giggled, turning on the water once you’d pulled the shower curtains closed. The water sprayed down cold upon your skin, making you gasp before it grew warmer. 

“Shit, that was colder than I thought it’d be.” He shivered, chilly hands caressing your stomach until he reached the pillowy softness of your breasts, rubbing his thumbs over your pebbled nipples. “Worth it.” He grinned.

”Fuck you.” Swatting at his hands in playful defiance when you realized he wasn’t just being impatient, he’d wanted you to get doused in freezing water for his own satisfaction.

”Nope.” He shook his head, wrapping his arms around your slowly warming body, his lips tickling the sensitive skin of your earlobe. “I’ll be fucking you.”

The gravelly undertone of his voice rippled across your flesh and wormed its way down the planes of your body until it ripped into the coil growing taut in your core. Just like that, quicker than a snap of the fingers, you were putty in his strong, tattooed hands. His lips trailed down your neck, nibbled across your collarbone, and traveled to your breasts. His mouth and hands took their time massaging and tasting your water slicked skin, his little teasing nibbles turning into harder, needier bites as he moaned and fell to his knees.

”You just stay right there and make those pretty noises for me.” He murmured, lifting one of your legs to hook over his shoulder before nuzzling into your cunt.

”Anakin,” panting already as you grasped at his damp hair. “Anakin just fuck me already, you’ve been teasing me since we stepped in here.” You whined, trying to pull his face away from the apex of your thighs. 

Anakin’s hands roamed up your stomach and he shifted his position to tilt you farther back into the corner of the shower. He kept one firmly anchored to your hip that rested on his shoulder, the other gripped your chin with his thumb, pinky and ring fingers holding you in place. His middle and pointer finger forcing their way between your lips and pressing down on your tongue to shut you up.

”I want what I want and I’ll have it.” He growled, nipping your clit before diving back in to continue his work. His tongue tirelessly lapping at your folds, waning every time you neared orgasm until he had you desperately mewling around his fingers, your hips bucking against his smiling face. ”Keep your hands behind your back or I’ll make you wait longer.” He murmured, holding back a chuckle.

“Please?” You slurred, drool pooling in the corner of your mouth as you gagged on his fingers, your hands itching to move and force him to stay where you wanted him.

”You wanna cum?” He rasped, looking up at you beneath his thick lashes while flicking his tongue back and forth as he awaited your answer. A thick, garbled moan and rapid nod confirmed what he already knew, making him snicker as he slowly rose up.

”Well, you’ll just have to wait.” He whispered, wiping his face on your breasts, planting a kiss on your sternum before turning you until the water pelted your back so you’d face him while he soaped up your body.

”You’re joking.” You squeaked, your chest heaving with each breath as you shivered under the soapy loofah, the rough netting setting your already sensitive skin ablaze. “You can’t just-“

”Oh yes I can.” He interrupted you, a devilish smirk gracing his lips. “You were the one who wanted to wait until after the shower right?”

”But not like this! That was before you tortured me!” You whined, angrily grabbing the shampoos bottle, eager to get out of the shower and into the bed.

”C’mon doll, don’t complain or I’ll make it so much worse.” Promising more than just teasing, Anakin was promising a world full of nothing for you and all pleasure for himself.

”I need you, in a bad way.” He mumbled, spinning you to face the shower head so he could take over scrubbing your scalp and carding the shampoo down your tangled strands of hair. “Been waiting for you all evening, its your turn to wait now.” He growled, pressing his hardened erection against your ass, slotting it between your thighs to rub the tip against your folds, his rough hands gripping the base of his cock as he groaned. 

“This is so mean.” You whimpered, tilting your hips backward and grinding back on him.

”You better quit.” He chuckled, samcking your hip lightly before making you turn your back to the stream of water once again to rinse the suds from your hair. 

You couldn’t help but stare down at his hard, throbbing length. It stood there so proudly, so thick and pretty, adorned with that shiny silver jewelry that you never knew you needed before him. In the span of time that he’d had you distracted just by existing, he’d rinsed out your hair and rinsed himself off as well, the masculine scent of his body wash clinging to the steam of the shower. 

“Time for bed?” You grinned, wiggling your eyebrows as he led you out the shower and onto the soft bath mat, wrapping you in a towel.

”Oh you’re sleepy?” He teased, struggling not to smirk. “Well, I suppose I could wait until t-“

”No! You know that’s not what I meant!” You scowled, grabbing his wrist and dragging him along behind you to the bedroom. 

“Moody little thing.” He mumbled under his breath just loud enough for you to hear. He used his free arm to pull you back against his chest, using your tight grip on his wrist to his advantage by twisting your arm behind your back. With that arm trapped between yourself and his chest, he leaned in closer, his plump lips brushing against you ear. “I believe we’ve discussed this before. Do. Not. Raise. Your. Voice. At. Me.” 

Each word was punctuated with a pause that seemed louder than the words themselves. You’d heard that phrase. Heard it enunciated identically to this. The only difference between then and now is the person. 

“What did you just say to me?” You whispered, the warmth of your cheeks, flushed from arousal turned icy cold and pallid within milliseconds.

”I said not to raise your voice at me babydoll.” Anakin said sweetly, kissing your neck chastely before releasing you from his firm grasp, spinning you out of his hold as if on the dance floor. “It’s rude.” He chuckled, backing you up to the bed.

“Right.” You tried to swallow but it seemed as if you had temporarily lost that ability, “You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

You were startled, the aggressive embrace, the sudden change of tone, the familiar dialogue… that’s all it was. Familiar dialogue. Anakin was always a stickler for behavior, it wasn’t the first time you’d been chided by him over something small and it wouldn’t be the last. Anakin is aggressive sometimes too, this is fine.

“Atta girl.” Anakin chuckled, grabbing your chin in one hand, bringing your face closer to his for a slow, tender kiss. “I love it when you listen.” He murmured against your lips. 

“Doing my best.” You laughed uncomfortably, turning your head to the side to avoid his eyes.

”Aww, feeling shy?” He teased, stepping closer until you were forced to bend backward in order to look up into his face. 

Anakin cupped the back of your head in his large palm, using his free hand to hike one leg up over his hip. His tongue starting in the dip at the base of your throat, swiping side to side in a sidewinder fashion until he reached your jaw. The tip of his tongue traced the underside of your jaw lightly, traveling up the shell of your ear and ending with his teeth nibbling your earlobe. 

The sensation left behind was a cold flamed fire that spread from your flesh and began to seep deep into the marrow of your bones. 

“Shy?” You repeated in a whisper, having trouble forming a straight line of thought. Your brain felt off-kilter, like a switchboard operator had plugged all the cords in wrong. 

“Oh, poor thing.” He snickered, pushing you down gently. “You sound kinda stupid. Maybe just let me do the talking for now okay?” 

“S-sure.” You nodded, frowning slightly before one of his massive hands clamped down over your mouth.

”Good girl.” He grinned, pushing down on your stomach with his other hands laying flat, splaying his fingers to almost fully cover you abdomen. “Now lets see how long you can stay quiet.”

Diary Entry: October 14th

I love you. I love you so much. But I love that deer in the headlights  look on your face when I stitch your two worlds together even more. Why won’t you just admit it to yourself? Why do you continue to torture yourself like this? It’s baffling.  You’re sleeping beside me right now, if you could even consider what you’re doing to be sleep. Whimpering and mumbling in a  ‘being chased by a monster In your dreams’ kind of way. I’ve tried petting you, playing with your hair and even talking quietly. The only thing that seemed to work was  when I started to doodle in my notebook, maybe somewhere in the back of your mind you associate the sound of pencil on paper with safety. The brain is so weird in that way.  How is it that you couldn’t ever hear me break in and roam around your apartment but you could hear me sit in the floor with your cat in my lap and write in my journal? At this point I think even taking off my mask right in front of you wouldn’t convince you to see the truth.  What excuses are you giving yourself now?  What excuse are you going to come up with after you find out what I’ve done? 

Diary Entry: October 14th

I’m glad I kept the hall camera up. I’m glad I still check it, I’m glad I still have all the previous footage.   Lacey is a liar. 

October 15th

”Oh god, that’s just…” Luke gasped, the color in his cheeks draining clean to the floor beneath his as he stared at the tv in his living room. 

“Why the hell do they put crime scene photos like that on the damn news? Jesus.” Han said, whipping his hand out to the side to cover Luke’s face, knowing how squeamish he was compared to the average person. The photo didn’t reveal much at all, just a blurred figure sitting upright behind a counter.

“It’s the news Han, it’s not supposed to be puppies and rainbows.” Anakin said flatly, shutting the fridge door with two beer bottles in his hand, holding them by the neck and bringing them down on his knee. The first cap popped off easily and he caught it with his free hand, shifting the bottles slightly, he brought them down on his knee again and popped off the other cap.

“Well you’d think they wouldn’t put a dead guy on screen.” Han huffed, shaking his head.

”Show off.” You teased Anakin, watching him open the beers while you were busy rinsing the dishes from dinner off in the sink to then set up in the dishwasher. 

“That’s what I do baby.” He shrugged, a grin on his lips as he plopped himself down on the other side of Han, handing him one of the beers. 

“It was all blurred on purpose, they didn’t show anything gross.” Anakin said to Han dismissively. “Just don't watch the 20/20 special they’ll put out. They always get their hands on a couple gnarly crime scene pictures.” 

“Ain’t that right.” Luke gagged dramatically, recalling a memory of the true crime show that he and Han had watched a few weeks prior. 

“I don’t get why they haven’t released the name yet.” You mumbled, leaning against the counter as you glanced at the tv. “You think it was a minor?”

“No, they would’ve said that by now.” Anakin shook his head, sipping his beer. “They’re probably waiting for the autopsy or the family or something.”

_______________________________________________

“What you’re seeing on screen now is a security photo, taken from a CCTV camera inside the building.” A male news anchor gestured to the upper left corner of the screen where a black and white photo was being displayed. It was grainy and dark, half of the lens obscured by something. “This is the only image released to the press via the police department, we were unable to confirm if this is the only image containing the suspect.”

_______________________________________________

“What am I even looking at?” You asked, walking up behind the couch and leaning over Anakin’s shoulder.

“I don’t see a person there.” Luke said, craning his neck to the side in an attempt to see it from a different perspective.

_______________________________________________

“Sources state that the substance obscuring the camera lens is black spray paint, making the majority of the image completely useless.” The news anchor spoke with a clear voice, pausing for a moment before speaking again.

“Analysis has confirmed that this re-touched image holds the only current clue to who the suspect is.” He paused again while a new photo appeared on screen, slightly different in color tone and slightly less grainy. The difference of the pictures side by side was quite clear, just above the black spray paint splotch, a slightly different shade of black and grey could be seen. “Highlighted within the yellow circle, you can just barely make out the shape of a hand holding the spray paint can.”

“Police are fairly certain the suspect is wearing a black long sleeved shirt or sweatshirt, as well as black gloves. Due to the poor quality, they were unable to determine the material of the clothing and gloves.” The female news anchor took over speaking while live footage of the crime scene played on screen. Police tape, an evidence tent and a coroner’s van could be seen in the center of the shot.

”Investigators working the scene have claimed there seems to be no clear motive in the murder and no suspect has been cited. The victim was a young, well liked individual, whose family claims had ‘no enemies’.” The female anchor continued, pausing again before switching gears slightly.

“The mall will remain closed for the next two weeks while the police continue to gather evidence. All other information is being withheld from the public while the investigation is still in it’s beginning stages. More on this story tonight at 6:00pm.”

_______________________________________________

“That's it?” Han scoffed, shaking his head in frustration at the short ‘update’. “This is almost worse than ‘Frat Lake’.”

“What?” You squeaked, the heat in your body all rising to your head at once, making you feel light headed. 

“You know, ‘Frat Lake’.” Luke turned around to look at you, “Those guys they found in the cabin across the lake from ours.”

“Oh, no… I know what you’re talking about. I guess I just didn’t realize they’d given the case a name.” You said quickly, trying not to stumble over your words.

“Well it’s like one of the main things in the news still, of course they gave it a name.” Luke said, shifting in his seat to put his arm on the back of the couch. “I don’t know about you but I still don’t think that kid did all of that by himself.”

“What makes you say that?” Anakin asked, his hand reaching up to snake underneath your arm and squeeze your bicep as if he could sense your nervousness even if he didn’t consciously recognize it.

“It was all so weird.” Luke said, looking over at Han. “Didn’t they say there weren’t any fingerprints anywhere?”

“Yeah, no fingerprints, no serial number on the gun, no bullet in the one dude.” Han mused aloud, each syllable from his lips making your stomach rise an inch higher in your throat. “He left those others alive, in the closet. It just didn’t make sense.”

“Well, shit happens.” Anakin said nonchalantly. “Maybe the plan changed.” Anakin’s thumb brushed back and forth over the soft skin of your inner arm, tilting his head up and to the side to kiss your arm. 

“Maybe, yeah.” You agreed, your eyes shifting away quickly as your cheeks grew hot and your throat began to itch. “He probably realized he’d screwed up big time and panicked. Maybe that’s why he posted that stuff before he killed himself.” You suggested, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation but feeling it was more awkward not to give any input. So you simply repeated a paraphrased version of what Ghost had said to you.

“Probably.” Han agreed, nodding slowly before he put his arm across Luke’s shoulder. “I mean they weren’t good people so I kind of have a hard time feeling too bad about it.”

Anakin snickered at Han’s comment, turning his head away from the group for a moment before returning his eyes to the tv. 

“What? You think they should’ve gotten away with it?” Han asked with a scoff. “Maybe they didn’t deserve to die, but I think a few days in that closet might have been good for them.”

“Oh no, not at all. I’m with you 100%.” Anakin said with a crooked upturn in his top lip. “I’d say you’re probably right on the nose there buddy. That’s probably what that little shrimpy kid had in mind. I doubt he planned on them all dying. He was probably hoping they’d get found before then.”

“Great so now Han has a true crime buddy to yap about the unspeakable with.” Luke grumbled, looking over at you with a look of understanding and sympathy. His face morphed into concern when he met your eyes. “Jesus babe, you alright?”

“Ani,” You said quietly, unable to come to terms with the fact that they were all so casually speaking about the case that you’d been involved in. “I don’t feel so good.” 

“C’mere.” He said worriedly as he stood up and walked around behind the couch to stand in front of you, cupping your face in his hands to inspect you. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we please talk about something else?” You whispered, feeling tired and drained compared to how lively and happy you were just moments before. Ghost was right to tell you that you shouldn’t watch the news on ‘Frat Lake’. You’d thought you were over it, but the guilt just smashed into you like a mac truck.

“Feeling squeamish?” He asked, his eyes soft and caring as you nodded. “Lukey, it’s your lucky day. No more crime-talk. We’ve upset the fairer sex.” Anakin joked, trying to break the mask of seasick green that covered your pretty face. 

“Thank god.” He sighed in relief, changing the channel immediately, searching for something more friendly and less murdery. “This was supposed to be a cute double date. Not a gorefest.” He muttered under his breath.

Diary Entry: October 16

You know what? I complain in this little book a lot but honestly I just can’t help it. I’m a whiny guy sometimes and that’s okay. I can’t complain out loud. Even if I really wanted to. The other day made me feel kind of bad, after we left Luke and Han’s you were in a sluggish mood for the rest of the night. That’s okay, I get it. But I haven’t gotten all my fuckin’ done. I’ve been debating the possibility of digging Ghost back up just to get in a few extra rounds with you. I know you can handle it. You’ve done it before.  Anyway, I get it. You need some time to process that conversation but please for the love of all things holy, do it quickly before I go bonkers. You’re always right here with me and I can’t get enough of you, it's always been like that but before I was able to have you so much more. I was fuckin’ for two. 

Diary Entry: October 17

You keep texting Ghost. Why? It’s never a question. It’s never begging. You just tell him about your day. You tell him things you don’t tell me.  Do you really love that side of me more? Is this love for the best version of myself not authentic? I wish you’d stop texting. It’d save me a world full of confusion. I don't know what the hell to do. I need you to stop. I don’t know that I want you to see the two of me blended together anymore. The longer this goes on, the more worried I’ve made a big fat mistake I become.  Why do you trust him so much? It’s not like I didn’t lie to your face constantly. Knowing how badly you want Ghost to engage makes me want to bury him even deeper. I separated these two sides of myself for a reason, to give you the best and only the best. I lost that original goal somewhere along the way. 

Date: oct 18th

“Can you hand me that big spoon please?” You asked Anakin as you worked around him in the kitchenette of his apartment. 

“No.” He said flatly, even as he was handing it to you before you finished your sentence, making you snort softly. 

“Thank you!” You said in a sing-songy voice, turning back toward the stovetop to finish stirring up the pasta sauce. “Are you almost done with those?” You asked over your shoulder.

“I’ll be done when I’m done darlin’. This takes time and precision.” Anakin said seriously, holding up a finger to signal you to wait. 

“Ani…” You sighed, turning off the burner you were using and walking over behind him, pushing him to the side with your hip so you could see what he was doing. “Anakin SKywalker!” You gasped, smacking his arm.

“What?” He grinned, looking down at your red and embarrassed face. “You don’t like my cookies?” His lips in a pout.

“Just put them in the oven, we don’t even have time…” You tried to scowl but ended up with a downturned smile that gave way to surprise when you heard a knock at the front door. “See? No time to change them anyway.” You sighed.

“It’s unlocked!” Anakin shouted, scraping the left over chocolate chip cookie dough off his fingers with his teeth. 

“Oh my god, this place looks… exactly as expected.” Luke snickered as he walked into Anakin’s apartment for the very first time, seeing his eclectic design and decor choices.

“Yeah, looks cool as hell.” Anakin nodded, a big grin on his face as he funneled a few stray chocolate chips into his mouth and then dusted his hands off over the sink before washing them thoroughly. 

“Where’s this record collection you're always going on about?” Han asked, setting a big tote bag down on the center of the table. 

“In my lair.” Anakin said, happily jogging over to his bedroom door to let Han look through them. “Feel free to dig around, I don’t mind.” He said as he flopped down onto his neatly made bed.

Meanwhile Luke was looking through the random trinkets and knick-nacks littered about the living area. Occasionally scooting something around to get a better look at it, like he was grocery shopping and searching for a ripe avocado. You heard a gasp and the sound of Luke’s ‘ew gross’ noise and quickly turned around.

“What the hell is this?” He squeaked, pointing to a jar on a shelf positioned above the couch. 

“Oh, shit Luke. You scared me.” You laughed, walking over and standing up on the couch to grab the jar and bring it down for him to look at. “It’s a wet specimen.” 

“It looks like a… I don't know.” He grimaced. “Is it a kitten?”

“It’s a rat.” You laughed, turning the jar slowly to give him the 360 view.

“Why the fuck would- Anakin?!” Luke shouted and after a few seconds both Han and Anakin came out of the bedroom. “Why?” Luke squeaked out, pointing to the jar is disgust.

“Oh! You met Bertie.” He grinned, walking over and picking up the jar. “Bertie was… a gift.” He said awkwardly.

“You got a rat in a jar… as a gift?” Han scoffed in disbelief.

“No, I got the rat as a gift. The jar came after.” Anakin grinned, putting the jar back up on the shelf. “Wet specimens are a form of taxidermy. Bertie was my first and only childhood pet. I wanted to keep him.” He shrugged.

“I’m… okay.” Luke blinked, sharing a look with Han. “Remember when I said he was too good to be true? I was right.” Luke frowned in disgust at the jar.

“Oh come on, it’s no big deal, we had stuff like this in the science lab in highschool. I thought it was sweet.” You defended Anakin’s odd keepsake because it really didn’t seem all that odd. 

“Sweet?” Luke scoffed. “Babe. No.”

“Ah, leave him alone.” Han snickered. “You just picked up a stray cat and named him after your dead one. You’re weird too.”

“No. That’s different!” Luke insisted, crossing his arms and looking at you in hopes you backed him up but you were too busy giggling at the exchange to even pay attention. 

“Ah, well. Don’t come crying to me when Art the second dies and you want him in a jar.” Anakin snickered, teasingly clapping Luke on the shoulder.

“That’s serial killer shit bro.” Han snorted, following Anakin over to the oven where the cookie timer was beeping.

“Oh yeah?” Anakin grinned widely, holding up his hand in a fist to bring down a few inches above Han’s chest. “What’s the Psycho sound effect? ‘Ree-Ree-Ree’?” He snort-laughed, bringing his fist down repeatedly in a stabbing motion.

Han laughed, dramatically going along with Anakin’s jest by slumping over on the counter and reaching out a hand for Luke, making a fake strangled gurgling noise. Anakin shot a big smile over at you before he bent down to pull out the cookie tray from the oven while Han straightened back up and went over to console a very unamused Luke. 

“C’mon it was funny.” He laughed, putting an arm around him and steering him toward the kitchen table. He pulled out a chair and gently shoved Luke down into it by the shoulder. 

“How do you expect me to eat when there’s a dead rat in the room?” He asked in whiny voice.

“Anakin? Do you mind?” You prompted him with an apologetic glance. 

“Ugh, fine.” He rolled his eyes and made his way to the shelf, grabbing Bertie’s jar and taking it to his bedroom to stow it away while Han and Luke stayed for dinner. 

“Don’t you dare fuck with my cookies!” Anakin playfully shouted as he reentered the room to see you plating the cookies out of order. 

“Oh come on.” You whined as he picked you up by the waist and carried you over to the table, sitting you down next to Luke. 

“I think they put us in time out.” Luke muttered, his chin resting on his fist as he watched Han and Anakin filling plates and bowls for the four of you. 

“Yeah.” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you flipped on the tv. “Feels like it.”

“Eat.” Anakin said firmly as he sat down a bowl and plate in front of you, returning in a second with a glass of water. “Please.” He added in a sweeter tone as he kissed your cheek and sat down beside you with his own food. 

“Gimme that.” Han said, snatching the remote from your hand. He turned his seat sideways to better view the tv as he searched for the local news. 

“Wait, they’ll run it again in an hour.” Anakin said, snapping his fingers to get Han’s attention. “Remember how the ladies acted last time? You want it to be worse?” He gestured to the food on the table.

“Oh. Yeah you’re right.” Han chuckled, switching off the tv for the time being, deciding that the latest press release could wait until after dinner. 

“Ladies?” Luke repeated with his jaw hanging open. “Han really?” 

“What?” He snickered, turning his head to grin at Anakin. “He’s right. Just looking out for you hon.” He said, ruffling up Luke’s hair. 

“Oh whatever.” You muttered under your breath. “You two are awful when you’re together.” You said jokingly to Han and Anakin. 

Dinner went smoothly for the remainder of the time everyone was sat together at the table. The food you’d prepared and cooked alongside Anakin was much better than he gave himself credit for. He’d wanted to order in, insisting that Granny Lee at Thai Palace was a much better cook than either of you. (She was.) But you managed to convince him that it would be like a competition to see who could host better and that seemed to change his opinion very quickly. Even more so when you allowed him to take over making dessert all by himself. Which you sorely regretted.

“Cookies?” Anakin asked, a wicked grin spread from ear to ear as he placed the neatly lined up chocolate chip cookies down onto the center of the table. You sighed, blushing deeply as you hid your face behind your hands when Han busted out laughing and Luke started to giggle. 

“Darlin’, go ahead.” Anakin prompted, rubbing between your shoulder blades while chewing on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Choose one.”

The pristine white ceramic cookie platter held a baker’s dozen of chocolate chip cookies, each housing a letter made of chocolate chips.

G-O-H-O-M-E-I-M-H-O-R-N-Y

“I suppose I’ll just take the G.” You laughed, hiding your blushing cheeks with one hand while picking up your chosen cookie with the other. 

“Momma always said you gotta send your guests home with a parting gift.” Anakin snickered, tonguing his labret piercing. 

“Are you kicking us out?” Han laughed, grabbing a random cookie without a second thought. 

“Nah, not yet. When the cookies are gone, you two better get going unless you want a show.” Anakin grinned, jabbing you in the ribs with his knuckles to tickle you and make you laugh despite yourself. 

“Shut up!” You giggled, reaching up and behind yourself to gently smack his cheek. 

“Ooh, feisty.” Anakin leaned down and tipped your chin up with his middle finger, planting a kiss to your lips before he yanked on your hair and sprinted away to the couch, leaving you with a scowl as you smoothed out your hair. 

“Ready?” Han asked as he walked over and plopped himself down on the floor in front of the couch to watch the press release from the local police department. 

_______________________________________________

A tall imposing police officer stood behind the dark stained oak podium, tapping a thin stack of papers into order on the wooden surface before clearing his throat and nodding to someone off camera. A few camera flashes could be seen as he leaned forward to speak into the handful of microphones situated on the podium. 

“On October 13, 2024, at approximately 6:32 AM, the Police Department responded to a report of a possible homicide located at Revival Records within the East Side Mall." He made a short pause.

"Upon arrival, Officers met with an employee who wishes to remain anonymous, who discovered the deceased victim, a male identified by family members as Eric Codgins aged 24.” The officer waited a moment to flip to the next page of his pre-typed speech.

“Investigators were called in to begin immediate follow-up." He stated, looking up from his papers into the crowd.

"Those on scene learned that the victim had passed away while inside Revival Records during closing hours the previous night. The Coroner took possession of the deceased, and the results of the full autopsy are pending. The current information available reads: Victim is believed to have expired between 6:30PM to 8:30PM. The deceased was found to be missing several body parts which were found to be stowed away on the victim’s corpse.”

“There were several tools and other affects found at the crime scene that point to the work of at most, two individuals involved in the murder.” The officer sat down his papers, cleared his throat and stepped back to allow another officer to take over the podium.

------------------------------------------------------------

“Body parts?” You asked in surprise. “I thought they found him sitting up in a chair.”

“They did.” Han nodded in agreement as you made your way to the couch and settled against Anakin’s side. 

“Well how did they… what parts are missing?” You asked in morbid curiosity.

“Baby they aren’t going to release that just yet.” Anakin said as he put his arm around you and planted a sweet kiss to the top of your head. “That’s the kind of thing they withhold for when they question someone.”

“Mmm, right yeah that makes sense.” You hummed in response.

-----------------------------------------------------------

“We will now allot for a brief Q and A session.” The new, younger looking officer announced as they stepped up to the podium. Looking immediately regretful as reporters and the like started shouting out questions.

“There have been many rumors circulating that this crime is occult in nature due to the brutality and mutilation to the deceased." The young officer paused with his lips pursed impatiently as the crowd began speaking over him.

"We have explored this lead in great excess and are confident that it does not fit the description of any satanic or otherwise occult crimes.” He responded, another round of loud shouting starting up the moment he stopped speaking.

“We are still working closely with the coroner’s office in determining the official cause of death as well as the murder weapon." He shifted on his feet as though uncomfortable with the information he was about to give.

"What we can share with you is that the main instrument used was some type of small, handheld double edged blade. Much like a tactical knife or pen-dagger. As well as certain types of butterfly or switchblade knives; both of these variants are illegal in our state.” The young officer responded, pausing and holding up his hand to signal for the room to remain silent as a fellow officer joined him for a moment to whisper something to him.

“I’ve just been cleared to confirm a frequently asked question on the case.” He cleared his throat as his colleague stepped back. “We are aware of the use of CCTV cameras that utilize time-stamped photos as a means of security are used throughout the mall and among several other stores and workplaces throughout the city."

"There is no immediate threat to other businesses or establishments that we are aware of, though we do urge business owners to update their surveillance technology to twenty four hour surveillance taping rather than timed photos.” The officer paused again while the crowd burst into another bout of questions.

“With that being said, our investigative team has determined the CCTV photos from the crime scene have not been altered, modified or tampered with in any way before or after the crime occurred." He continued, seemingly agitated that he was continuously being interrupted.

"The only camera on site that was tampered with was located in the service hallway behind Revival Records, via the use of spray paint.” He cleared his throat again, seemingly pausing for a deep breath before preparing to answer the next top question.

“It is not known how the perpetrators worked around the timed photos, though what we can say is that there is obvious movement of objects and the victim’s position in these stills. The only photo of a suspect we have at this time is the photo released earlier this week."

"The image is obscured in such a way that our team has been unsuccessful in enhancing it any further.” The officer stepped away from the podium as the first speaker came back into view to speak once more.

“This will conclude our Q and A session for the time being. Our hearts go out to the Codgins family who will be holding a public vigil for their son in the main square, downtown tomorrow at 5:00PM. We’d like to close this session by saying that while there are no current suspects, rest assured we are working diligently to find the persons responsible for this heinous act.”

------------------------------------------------------------

“Well that was a crock of shit.” Han scoffed, shaking his head as he reached up to his right side to squeeze Luke’s knee. 

“Do you want to go?” You asked Anakin quietly, a hint of concerned understanding lacing your words.

“To the vigil?” Anakin asked, his eyebrows raised as if he were surprised you were asking. “I mean… do you think I should? I didn’t really know him that well.”

“Well I don’t know, I just thought maybe since you saw him so often you might want to?” You asked, leaning your head over on his shoulder while playing with the rings on his right hand.

“You knew him?” Luke asked in surprise.

“Kind of?” Anakin sighed, looking at the tv screen as he spoke. “I go to that record store all the damn time so I saw him quite a bit but it’s not like we were friends or anything.” 

“Was he weird or like an ass or something?” Han asked curiously.

“What? No.” Anakin snorted softly. “He was just… normal I guess. I don’t know man, he was just the guy I handed my money to, you know?” 

“Right, yeah I get that.” Han nodded, while you on the other hand just quietly listened to the conversation happening around you. 

Noticing that something in Anakin’s voice had changed slightly, as though he weren’t fully engaged in the topic anymore despite still speaking about it somewhat in depth with the other boys. You assumed that he was busy watching the rest of the news broadcast still playing on screen and only giving the conversation a third of his attention, splitting it between petting you and halfheartedly watching the tv.

“Are you okay?” You whispered, disguising the question as a kiss on the cheek, knowing he probably wouldn’t appreciate you asking it aloud.

“Oh, yeah sweetheart.” He mumbled, bringing his hand up to twist the ring on the left side of his lip. “I’m all good, just thinkin’ that’s all.” He smiled.

“Okay Ani.” You said in a tone that let him know you didn’t exactly believe him, but you were willing to let it slide for now.

“So you guys want to watch a movie or something?” Anakin asked, licking over his top row of teeth. 

“Yeah sure, but I want some drinks or something.” Han said, rubbing his palms together. 

“I’ve got beer and that’s about it.” Anakin said with a shrug. “Or actually I think my girl’s got a bottle of wine, don’t you baby?” He asked.

“Yeah but we took it to my apartment, remember?” You said, patting his hand. 

“What a shame, you live so far away.” He tsk’d, smiling crookedly. 

“Speaking of, why don’t you guys just live together already?” Luke butted in, always one to ask awkward questions without a filter.

“Uh…” Anakin looked over at you as if he were asking permission to answer for the both of you, but you just shrugged. “You know, that’s a great question.”

“I guess we kind of already do live together. We always sleep in the same bed every night, just not always in the same apartment.” You said with a slight laugh. 

“I always imagined when I found my person that we’d move into a house, not an apartment. So maybe that’s why.” Anakin said, standing up and pulling you with him. 

“Are you saying you need a realtor?” Luke asked, his voice proving his excitement at having started this conversation and bringing up this topic. “I can call my mom. She’s got a realtor lady friend.”

“Oh yeah!” You nodded, “I remember her I think, blonde, scary acrylics?”

“Yep, that’s Amy.” Luke snickered, pulling out his phone and sending a text to his mother to get the information. 

“Well I guess we’re house hunting then, hmm?” Anakin grinned, smacking your ass lightly to usher you along. 

“I suppose we are.” You giggled excitedly, allowing him to usher you away from the couch without really knowing why he had gotten you up in the first place. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, looking down over your shoulder at his hand that was firmly planted on your ass. 

“Walking with you to go get that wine.” He chuckled, glancing back to see Han and Luke chatting while Luke hung off the edge of the couch. 

“Oh, right.” You nodded, letting him lead the way across the hall and into your apartment.

“So do you think I should go?” He asked the moment the door closed behind the two of you and you were in the hallway alone.

“Go where?” You asked in confusion. “The vigil?”

“Yeah, do you think I should go?” He asked, unlocking your apartment door and pushing it open for you, tonguing his lip piercings. “I knew him so like, i should right? Would it be weird if I did?”

“Ani, you’re overthinking it.” You sighed, picking up your cat as she sidled up beside you and rubbed against your leg. “If you want to go, then go and I'll come with you.”

“But I don’t want to go.” Anakin shook his head, leaning against the counter. “But I feel like I should.”

“Will it make you feel better?” You asked, scratching Boogie’s head.

 

“Nah, baby.” He shrugged. “I don’t feel bad in the first place, there’s nothing to feel better about.”

“Really?” You asked curiously, thinking it was odd that he was making such a big deal over it but still claiming he didn’t care. “How come? I mean you seemed friendly with him, didn’t you call him by some nickname?”

“Nickname?” Anakin scoffed. “No, that was an insult. Ferdinand, you know like the bull from that kids book? I called him that because he looked like an idiot with that big ol’ honking nose ring.”

“That’s a little hypocritical for someone who has a pound of metal in their face.” You pointed out with a sly smirk. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes at you, but smiled anyway. 

“Ani, seriously though.” You said, sitting the cat down on the kitchen counter so you could walk over and smush yourself against him. “If you’re this worried about it, maybe you should go, just for your own peace of mind.”

“No, no you were right babydoll. I was overthinking it.” He shook his head, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head.

“If you change your mind it’s okay.” You said softly, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. 

“I know darlin’. Thank you.” He murmured, tilting your head back in one of his massive hands to tenderly kiss you, barely parting his mouth to lick across the plumpness of your bottom lip. “You always know what to say. Always.”

“Mmm.” You hummed, smiling against his mouth. 

“I love you baby.” He whispered, squeezing you a little tighter as he tucked his face into your neck, his knees bent slightly. 

“I love you too.” You said quietly, your hand coming up to play with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Alright let’s go back over there before I end up fuckin’ you.” He sighed, sniffing as he awkwardly tried and failed to shift his half-hard dick by kicking out one leg, resigning himself to shoving his hand down his pants instead. 

“Really?” You snorted, smirking as a pink tint grew across your face.

“Yes really.” He grumbled. “Your fault. Bein’ all hot and shit all the time.”

“My bad.” You shrugged and giggled, grabbing the wine bottle from the fridge and following Anakin on the short trip back across the hall where you found Luke and Han now cutely cuddled up on the couch. 

“Back already?” Han smirked, shooting Anakin a knowing look.

“We have company man.” Anakin grinned. “I can wait til after you’re gone. I’m not a complete horn-dog.”

You snickered, swatting at his chest before turning away to pour two glasses of wine, one for yourself and one for Luke, handing it to him before offering your glass to Han, but he held up a beer bottle to show he’d already found himself a drink. So you happily climbed back over into your preferred corner of the couch with Anakin, tossing the boys a blanket before covering yourself and Anakin up with another, getting settled in for your movie night. 

Just before Anakin picked up the remote to search for something suitable to watch, the newscasters announced the arrival of newly released, or rather, leaked photos from the CCTV at the Revival Records crime scene.

—----------------------------------------------------------

“The photos on screen now show very miniscule changes between frames. Each picture is taken at thirty second intervals, these three photos are shown chronologically.” The female newscaster held up her hand to gesture to the left side of the screen where three photos were lined up, each with a slight change between them.

“Our sources state that the majority of photos are similar to these, depicting very small movements around the victim, whether it be objects moving across the counter or even the digital footprint of the computer which showed activity during the time of the attack.” She said, looking over to her co-host for them to take over. 

“With no trace of the suspect or suspects in any of these photos, it’s hard to understand how this crime was committed. According to several twitter posts currently circulating, users are theorizing the crime was committed by someone with a military background or perhaps even a poltergeist.” The co-host said, cracking a smile at the end as a few different twitter posts went up on screen to back up their statement. 

“With such a brutal crime occurring on Friday the 13th in October, there was bound to be some wild claims, especially due to the seemingly invisible perpetrator of the crime.” They said, quickly switching back to their professional approach. “Online users have officially dubbed the suspect ‘The Ghost’.”

__________________________________________

Your eyes snapped up to the screen as your vision went blurry, unsure that you’d heard correctly, your voice sounded far away as you asked Luke to confirm the newscaster’s declaration. After having it confirmed, a sweet taste leaked out into your mouth. Your fingers went to your lip slowly and as you pulled your hand away, you heard Anakin speaking to you as though muffled by water. The words were unclear but his tone was understandable enough that you nodded along with whatever he was saying and allowed him to leave your iron grip to grab a paper towel for you. 

“Open up.” He said softly, his eyebrows pinched together in worry as he dabbed at your lip.

You did as he prompted and opened your mouth, hearing him wince as he pulled your bottom lip down carefully to expose the chunk you’d bitten out of the inside of your cheek. He sighed, tossing the remote to Luke so he could take over while Anakin tended to your self imposed wound. He carefully doctored you as best he could, wadding up a paper towel to soak up the blood trickling out to mix with your saliva while he put ice in a ziploc bag and wrapped it in a hand towel to hold against your cheek.

“You okay?” He asked worriedly, tilting and turning your face gently to check for swelling as he held the ice pack. 

“Uh huh.” You nodded, your eyes not meeting his. “I’m okay.” You smiled weakly, standing up and taking out the paper towel that hindered your speech, tossing it in the trash can. 

“Are you sure?” Anakin asked, following behind you closely as you curled back up on the couch and waited for him to settle beside you.

“I’m sure.” You said flatly, refusing to make eye contact with anyone in the room. “Can you just sit down? Please?” You asked impatiently as he stood in front of you, wearing that same concerned expression that had been there since the moment you injured yourself. 

“Right, of course babydoll.” He nodded, swallowing hard as he sat down and pulled you over into his lap. “Is this better? Can I get you anything? You’re comfy?”

“Can you stop talking?” You grumbled quietly, nestling yourself against his chest as he put both arms around you and settled your lower half between his thighs, cradling you in his embrace. 

“S-sure.” He nodded, furrowing his eyebrows but not complaining or prodding any further. 

“What we can share with you is that the main instrument used was some type of small, handheld double edged blade. Much like a tactical knife or pen-dagger. As well as certain types of butterfly or switchblade knives…” 

The police may not know what weapon was used. But you do.

The first half of Texas Chainsaw Massacre was spent in complete and utter silence between you and Anakin. An event that had never occurred before and you assumed would never occur again. He was always giving commentary, especially with movies he loved. This shouldn’t have been a quiet movie. He should’ve been yapping about what was going on behind the scenes, what props were used in place of other things, which lines were improvised, what he thought would’ve worked better had he been in charge of directing the film. But he was so, so silent. 

“Where is it?” You whispered. 

“Hmm?” He hummed as though he hadn’t heard you, but you knew by the way his heart sped up that he had. 

“Where is it?” You repeated yourself, trying to keep your voice as low and monotone as possible so you wouldn't alert Luke or Han. 

“Baby, I dunno what you're asking me.” He said quietly, shaking his head and putting his hand on the back of your head to hold you down against his chest when you tried to pull away to look at him.

“Anakin, no you-” You started, but stopped before the next word could be formed.

“Don’t tell me no.” He said sternly. Whispering into your hair as he threaded his fingers through it soothingly. “Everythin’s fine.”

“No, no I need you to tell me right now wh-”

Suddenly his mouth was on yours as he cupped your face in both hands, aggressively, passionately, angrily kissing you. If you couldn't have a verbal argument, he’d give you a physical one. He was telling you to shut up. You were telling him to please say something, anything. He was begging you to stop asking, you were begging him to come clean. 

“Jesus you guys, get a room.” Luke snickered quietly and you felt Anakin’s hand leave your face, his arm moving upward quickly, presumably flipping him off before returning his hand where it belonged. 

“Oh come on I was just joking, I don’t-”

“Shut up.” You and Anakin snapped at him in unison, turning your heads simultaneously and resuming your passionate wordless discussion. 

“Ew oh my god.” Luke groaned, nudging Han. 

“Leave ‘em be.” Han snorted, pulling Luke up from the couch and gently shoving him toward the kitchen to gather their things and before they’d even shut the door to the apartment Anakin was whipping his shirt off over his head.

Tag-List:

@tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwars @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @hopesworld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @demieyesore @hemmoxloser @ahano @astarionsgirl @popcosmi @purriteen

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

[miryum]

"The Stakeout"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

“Did you leave the precinct last night?” Jason set a mug of coffee next to Y/n’s desk. 

“The internet’s out at my apartment. The neighbour I’m leeching off turned it off for a couple days to teach their kids a lesson and this is the only place I can watch Bluey.”

“The kids show?” Jason raised a brow. 

Tim gasped and raced to Y/n’s computer. “I love Bluey!”

“Of course,” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you dare scoff at the majesty that is Bluey!” Y/n pressed a dramatic hand to her chest. “Clearly, you haven’t seen its brilliance. Sit down, baby Jay. You’re gonna love this.”

Both Tim and Jason crowded around the screen. Y/n pressed the keyboard and the iconic intro music played. Tim hummed along and Jason stared longingly at his book.

He hardly registered when the unicorn came on screen. “Children,” Tim and Y/n murmured with the unicorn.

The unicorn was spoiling a book about a princess and shoes. Jason wasn’t really paying attention. He could be reviewing files or reading books or bothering Damian. All valuable uses of his time.

“Wait, did you quote John Mulaney?” Jason realised. 

“Baby Jay? Yeah.” Y/n shushed him, “now watch this cinematic masterpiece.” 

“It’s a goddamn kid show. Any adult that watches this voluntarily needs therapy.”

“Yeah, I thought that was obvious,” Tim peered at him. “You’ve known us for more than four years. You hadn’t deduced that already?” 

“Touche.” 

“She calls herself The Queen of Crime,” Dick announced to the briefing room. “Or more well-known as Harley Quinn. She and her wife have broken into, set fire, exploded, and murdered more people and places than I can count.”

Y/n gasped. “Oh my gosh, gay crime queens? Do you think they would adopt me?”

“L/n, you would be an accomplice.” Tim frowned at his friend. 

“I would go to jail for my criminal moms.” 

“Anyway,” Dick rolled his eyes, a smile creeping at his mouth. “L/n and Todd will be staking out a place we’ve seen Quinn and Isley frequent. Cain will be their contact. Drake and Brown, I have another assignment for you that involves a murder.” 

“A murder?” Y/n whined. “No fair! How come I’m stuck with Todd and Steph gets a murder?” 

“I’m just better than you,” Stephanie shrugged. Y/n glowered at her. 

“I’m sure you’ll make the stakeout incredibly frustrating and boring,” Jason patted Y/n’s arm from his seat next to her. 

“Frustrating and boring: Title of your sex tape,” Y/n muttered, crossing her arms. “Dickie, you can’t expect me to live with Todd for three days! He won’t even do anything! He’ll just read and… I don’t know, what other nerdy things do you do?”

“Nerdy?” Jason shot back, “Says the person who references every TV show known to man!”

“Just so everyone knows,” Y/n raised a finger up. “The obsession this week is the Barbie movie.”

“Amen,” Steph clapped Y/n’s hand in a high-five. 

Cass fistbumped her. “Margot Robbie is a goddess amongst men.”

“Speaking of goddesses: Julie Andrews.” Y/n said. Steph hummed in agreement. “Princess Diaries marathon this weekend?”

“Y/n,” Dick interrupted. “You’ll be on a stakeout with Jason.”

“You think that will stop me?”

“No,” Dick admitted. “But... we‘re done. Everybody just go back to work.”

“You remind me of the Hulk.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Jason looked away from the camera that was perched in the windowsill.

“You remind me of the Hulk,” Y/n repeated from her seat on a beanbag chair. She grabbed some goldfish and popped them in her mouth. The apartment where the stakeout was taking place was small and decrepit. When Y/n had first seen it, she’d said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t wanna get tetanus.” Jason had locked the door before she could escape. (“If you wanted me alone, Jay, you could’ve just asked.”)

“How so?” Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes before turning back to stare out the grime-covered window.

“Well, first off, you’re fricking huge, but also a nerd.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a destructive green monster.” 

“I don’t know what you do outside of work.” Y/n shrugged. “But seriously, my dude. You need to stop working out. You’re making the rest of us look bad.” She reached over and poked Jason in the bicep.

“Are you flirting with me?” Jason smirked.

Y/n huffed and said, “you wish, Todd.” Thankfully, the walkie talkie crackled to life. “Talk to me, Goose,” Y/n snickered into the walkie talkie. 

Cass replied, “Maverick, we’re getting intel that Quinn and Isley are headed your way.”

“Thanks, man. Iceman’s keeping a watchout.”

“Iceman?!” Jason scoffed. “What makes me Iceman?!”

“Because you’re all stoic and impassive and eventually, you fall in love with me,” Y/n explained.

“I don’t remember Iceman and Maverick’s romance,” Cass’s voice was staticy and Jason was surprised she was still listening. 

“Come on,” Y/n’s eyebrows rose incredulously. “We could all feel the tension.” Cass hummed in acquiescence.

“L/n,” Jason shushed. “They’re here.” Y/n immediately quieted and turned off the walkie talkie. She went to sit next to Jason, making sure the camera was effectively hidden behind a screen. Outside, the pair could see a large truck pull up to the warehouse across the street. Out jumped Harley Quinn, her pigtails bouncing as she whistled. She skipped around the semi-truck and opened the door for her wife, Pamela Isley. Isley gave Quinn a kiss on the cheek and Y/n let out an ‘aw!’ Jason rolled his eyes and said, “just because they’re lesbians doesn’t mean they’re cute. They’ve committed many crimes.” 

“Being lesbians automatically makes them adorable and exempts them from all their crimes.”

Jason shushed her again and started taking pictures, the camera softly clicking away. Quinn opened the back of the semi and Isley pulled open the doors of the warehouse. Cheerfully, Quinn stacked boxes for Isley to roll away on a dolly. 

“What’s in the boxes?” Y/n wondered. 

“Do you think we’d be here if I knew?” Y/n glared at Jason’s response. 

Minutes passed, silent only for the snaps of the camera. Quinn and Isley continued to unload the truck and by the way they were piling them in the front of the warehouse, Y/n guessed that they were either moving the boxes soon or the warehouse was already filled. It wasn’t long before Isley slammed the truck door shut and blew a kiss to her wife. Quinn waved dramatically as Isley started the truck, leaving Quinn behind to man the warehouse. 

“Are we good?” Y/n asked. “Did we get all the pictures? Can we return to civilization and its cleaning supplies?”

“The apartment isn't that bad,” Jason said. “And no, we have to wait to see what Quinn’s doing.” Y/n groaned loudly and flopped over on her beanbag. “I figured this would happen,” Jason began to dig around his bag. “So I came prepared.” He pulled out some paper and pens and threw them at Y/n. “Draw me a picture or write me a story.” 

Y/n frowned at him. “What do you think I am? Five?” Jason shot her a knowing look and she muttered, “yeah, okay. That’s a pretty good idea.” Y/n sat down on the ground, mumbling about blastomycosis and mold poisoning. Jason silently wondered how she knew so much about diseases. Sitting back on her beanbag, Y/n uncapped a pen and started drawing. Or writing. Jason wasn’t really sure. He was more preoccupied with the case. 

After fifteen minutes, (Jason had hoped it would distract her for longer,) Y/n proudly showed Jason her drawing. “I even wrote a story to go with it!” She presented another piece of paper, filled with her scribbly handwriting. 

“What’s it about?” Jason asked, eyes slowly turning away from the camera and towards Y/n. 

“It’s a tragic love story between a marshmallow and a cup of hot chocolate who can never be together because the hot chocolate would melt the marshmallow, but the marshmallow stayed with the hot chocolate, even though it was slowly dying, because it loved the hot chocolate.” Y/n taped her picture and story up on the wall.

“Shakespeare would be put to shame,” Jason said after a moment of processing. Y/n nodded along. “Romeo and Juliet, who?” 

Y/n gasped softly. “Oh my gosh, I think I love you.”

“I thought that was already established,” Cass’s voice came through the walkie talkie. 

Y/n quickly pressed the button. “You’re still there?” 

“L/n, this is an open police line.” Cass was rubbing her temples. “We need to be in constant contact with you.”

Jason snagged the walkie talkie away from Y/n and updated Cass. “Quinn’s still at the warehouse. L/n and I request to prolong our stay to keep tabs on her.” 

“Wait, we could still leave?!” 

“I’ll ask Wayne,” Cass said. “Stay sharp.” The line crackled and went silent. 

“Todd, why are we staying later than needed?” Y/n whined. “We could be back at the precinct right now.”

“Because this would be a big bust for us. If we shut down the Crime Queen’s operation, and maybe even catch one, that’d be a major operation off of the street.” He looked back at the detective. “Come on, Y/n. Think about it.” 

Y/n grumbled, but relented. “Fine.” She went back to scribbling on the paper, angrily huffing out profanities every now and then and asking Jason how to spell certain words. (“How the hell do you not know how to spell equipment?” “It’s a hard word!”)

“Cass, I’m transferring some pictures to you,” Jason spoke into the walkie talkie, sometime around ten fifteen at night. “I’m not seeing any activity right now, but I’ll keep you updated.”

“We’ll keep you updated,” Y/n corrected. “We’re a team, remember, Todd?” 

“You’re right,” Jason looked back at her. “I’m sorry. We’ll keep you updated.” He flipped off the walkie talkie and said, “if we’re a team, then do you want to take a turn at the camera?”

Y/n scrunched her nose. “Nah. I’ll just wait until you pass out from exhaustion to take my shift.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly. “Really helpful.” 

“I know.”

It was late the next morning and Y/n was sitting dutifully by the window, letting Jason snore on the beanbag. She had the movie Deadpool on in the background, occasionally quoting things alongside Wade Wilson. “A fourth wall break inside a fourth wall break! That’s like… sixteen walls,” she mumbled, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket she had stolen off of Jason. A loud honking lifted her from the edges of sleep and Y/n bolted upright, cursing. A sleek, black limo pulled in front of the warehouse and Y/n immediately radioed in to Cass. “Hey, Goose, we have a situation.” 

“What is it, Maverick?” Cass yawned, still following along with Y/n references.

“A black limo, licence plate…” Y/n took dozens of pictures. “PNGIN, just pulled into the lot. Sending evidence now.” She opened the precinct laptop Jason had packed and uploaded the photos. “I might need backup if an exchange is going down.” 

“Copy that,” Cass said. 

From the limo stepped a pudgy man in a three-piece suit with a large tophat. Y/n had to refrain herself from commenting on his appearance. “Jay, get up! Get up!” She kicked the beanbag chair and Jason awoke with a start, mumbling things about interrupting his sleep. “Oh my god, is that…” Y/n squinted through the camera lens, pressing the ‘talk’ button on the walkie talkie. “Cass! It’s Cobblepot! Cobblepot’s meeting up with Quinn!”

“-at?” It sounded like Cass said ‘what?’ but only clicked her button during the last half, surprise evident in her voice. “Lemme get Dick. And Wayne.” She added the Captain as if on second thought. 

After a tense minute where Y/n had to kick Jason again, Dick came on the radio. “L/n, report,” he commanded.

“Cobblepot’s meeting up with Quinn. I’ve sent the photos. I’m requesting a soft backup. Let me see what’s going on, but I want officers on hand. We could stop something big here, Sarge.”

“Copy that. You’ll get your officers. Where do you want them?”

“A half a block away,” she said. “And Dick? I need ‘em now. I don’t know what’s going on, but Quinn’s coming out to meet Cobblepot.”

Cass’s voice returned. “Y/n, Dick’s going to lead the officers himself. His ETA should be about ten minutes. Sit tight.”

“Will do, as soon as Todd WAKES UP!” Y/n kicked Jason in the shin, earning a loud “ow!”

“I’m up!” Jason shot up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What?”

“Fucking Cobblepot! You’re about to sleep through our bust! Bitch,” she clicked her tongue, ”wake up!”

“Cobblepot?” Jason said blearily. He raced the window, squinting down at the scene below. “Holy…”

“I know!” Y/n punched Jason on the shoulder excitedly. He flinched away from her, acting as if it had hurt. 

Y/n snapped pictures as Jason took over the computer, typing a report. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Cass said, “Backup’s here, just in case.”

“Thanks, Cain,” Jason said, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Quinn’s taking Cobblepot into the warehouse,” Y/n reported. “But I can’t see… do we have any footage of the interior?” 

“Would we be here if we had access inside?” Jason groaned. 

“Now I see why people avoid you in the morning,” Y/n grumbled back, shooting Jason a warning glare. She shoved a cereal box towards the man and Jason angrily shoved some food into his mouth. “Now you won’t be so fucking cranky,” she muttered.

“Stop fighting!” Cass demanded, “what do you see?”

“Nothing! Other than Cobblepot’s men standing ominously by his limo.” Y/n asked, “how come we don’t have limos? That would be so much cooler.”

Cobblepot stepped out of the warehouse, Quinn trailing behind him. He gestured to his men and a couple of them started loading boxes into the trunk of the limo. “We’ve got movement!” Y/n shouted into the walkie talkie. “If we’re going to arrest them, it’s gotta be now! We won’t get Isley, and she’ll probably break Quinn out of prison, but at least we’ll get Cobblepot.” 

“You’re just soft for your crime moms,” Jason exhaled sharply. 

Dick’s voice was hardly understandable through the radio, but Y/n and Jason watched from the window as Dick and his team surrounded Quinn and Cobblepot and his men. “I feel like we should help,” Jason mumbled.

“Do you have a zipline?” Y/n asked out of the blue.

“No… why?” Jason seemed hesitant to answer, concerned about the answer. 

“Dang it,” Y/n shook her head. “It would’ve been easy for us to join the fight if we could just zipline down there. It’d look so cool, too!” She mimed shooting down a zipline and fighting all the bad guys off. Jason chuckled. 

Dick eventually managed to apprehend Cobblepot and Quinn, the latter who threw a wink right to the window where Y/n and Jason sat. Y/n gasped and threw open the window, sticking her head out. “Hi!” she shouted down to the apprehended criminals. “Oh my gosh, you’re Harley Quinn! I’m a huge fan!”

“Hey!” Harley Quinn waved back before Dick handcuffed her. “Aren’t you just a sweetie pie?! Were you the one spying on us since Tuesday?” Her thick Brooklyn accent shouted up to the detectives.

“Yeah! That was me!” Y/n grinned. “I love you and your wife! Can you adopt me?”

“Oh, honey, we would love to!” Harley called. “But unfortunately, I may be going to jail.” She pouted sadly and then grinned hopefully. “Think you can do anything about that, sugar?”

Y/n frowned and said, “unfortunately, no I can’t, adopted mom. But, I can promise to turn the other cheek when my other adopted mom breaks you out.”

“Deal!” Harley winked again and said, “send me the adoption papers and I’ll sign anything.”

“I love you!” Y/n shouted as Dick shoved Quinn into the back of his police car, rolling his eyes. 

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Jason joined Y/n leaning on the windowsill, gazing over at her. 

“Nope.”

[kaeyx]

Y!chuuya breaking into y!readers home only to find multiple murder plans on his friends, the sheep, subordinates,…etc. and pictures of his body while he’s sleeping or changing

there is just everything he did but like worse and hes so into it

I HAVE BEEN OBSESSING OVER THIS ASK UGH WHAT DO I EVEN SAYYYYY

He'd break in to steal some of your clothes or household items, maybe even to set them up at his place to get it ready for when you move in. And when he's digging around in your wardrobe he finds a shoebox, so of course he opens it! Chuuya thinks it could be your sex toys, so naturally he wants to take a peek. But when he opens the box.... it's just a lot of papers. He rifles through them and finds a stack of pictures, mostly blurry or low quality, of himself. This is what makes him pause.

Chuuya looks through everything again, carefully, reading a few of the papers. Some are scraps with facts about him written down, there's a calendar tracking his business trips, missions, even when he likes to take a coffee break. It's like a diary of his life but from an outside perspective! By now Chuuya's heart is racing, this is all too familiar. He also has pictures of you. He has little marks on his calendar signifying important things you have to do. He even spots one of his own pens in the box, and thinks back to the one he took from you because you chewed the cap.

He's forgotten all about breaking in by now, if you happened to walk in on him he'd pin you to the floor and fuck your brains out. Chuuya doesn't know what to do with himself, this is a dramatic change in plans that he hadn't accounted for... but he's not exactly complaining. He picks up a neatly folded piece of paper, and discovers a love letter. There's more of them, all hand written and signed, at least one every week going back months. Chuuya whines low in his throat as he reads through a few, getting hard as he sees the things you write about, the things you want him to do to you. The way you've fantasized about kidnapping him or running away with him like he does. Chuuya wishes he could take the whole box with him, but he limits himself to pocketing only one of the letters. As well as a new of the dirty clothes he originally came here for, of course! He has lots of things to plan all of a sudden.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Secrets of the Darkest Art: How to Make a Horcrux

So I saw many theories regarding how to make a Horcrux, but none of them really made perfect sense to me, so I decided to give it a crack myself as part of my mission to understand Lord Voldemort/Tom Marvolo Riddle (Which I think I did, big post coming about that at some point, this is but another piece of that puzzle of a man)

So this is my reverse engineering of a ritual to create Horcruxes based on book evidence, my knowledge of real-world alchemy, real-world ancient Greek cults and rituals and linguistic analysis.

How to reverse engineering a dark magical ritual:

The first thing, is to define what we knew fore certain:

The name: "Horcrux"

The creator is an Ancient Greek wizard named Harpo the Foul.

A death is required in the making.

A Horcrux holds a piece of the casters soul that anchors them to life so they won't die.

I'll actually start with the third point.

How to split a soul?

Both Dumbledore and Slughorn mention a death being required to tear your soul to make a Horcrux, and that never really sat right with me. It magically doesn't make sense and even the canon examples we have for Horcrux murders make this statment iffy.

We have seven examples of murders used to create Horcruxs (thanks to one Tom Riddle being dramatic):

The Diary - Myrtle Warren - killed by a basilisk. Sure, Tom freed the Basilisk, but it hardly seemed targeted at Myrtle specifically and you can argue he didn't actually kill her (more a manslaughter by negligence). He didn't cast the spell, so how come this tore his soul?

The Ring - his father (Tom Riddle Sr) - Avada Kadevra.

The Cup - Hepzibah Smith - she was poisoned by her house elf. Sure, the elf was under the imperious, but it wasn't a first-degree murder, and like with the Basilisk I find it hard to consider this the same as casting a killing curse. Magically those are very different things.

The Locket - Muggle Tramp - Avada Kadevra

The Diadem - Albanian Peasant - Avada Kadevra

Harry Potter - himself - backfired Avada Kadevra

Nagini - Bertha Jorkins - Avada Kadevra

Now, I used the term "magically different" or "magically make sense" what do I mean by that?

Well, besides the fact I'm going to make a full post about how I see magical theory in the Harry Potter Wizarding World, I'll say it takes a lot after occult philosophies from Alchemy that are very old, Slughorn mentions as much in book 6 and there are a few other references to it. I'm just gonna cover the basics required for this theory.

In Alchemy, everything (people, animals, plants and rocks) are built of three base components:

The Salt - the body - the physical form.

The Sulfur - the soul - the self that holds the divine flame.

The Murcury - the spirit - the life essence that binds the salt and sulfer together.

Now, in Alchemy, the main study is in purifying and combining these different aspects of material. Let's look at a herb, for an example:

If we want to retrieve its salt, we'll dry the herb completely using fire to leave behind a fine light grey ash that represents only the physical form.

If we wanted its mercury we'd distill all liquids from it until we get a purified, clear liquid which in the case of plants would be alcohol (it's why alcohol is referred to as "spirit").

And if we wanted its soul, we would take the remains from the distillation and drying process which would be a kind of oil.

(it can get more complicated with different materials, but this isn't a post about Alchemy)

Now, back to Horcruxs.

So, if we would want to split a soul, Alchemecly, how do we go about it?

Well, we don't. Not really. See a soul can't really be split, as every part of it, every bit of that oil from our random herb represents the entire soul. It's why something like a Horcrux could theoretically work in giving a full life to the diary the way we see in Chamber of Secrets.

Additionally, to work with any material in Alchemy, you are required to purify it first. It means that to get a piece of soul to bind to a diary, you need a pure soul.

Killing someone else won't sever your own soul from the spirit and the body, it's not how this works. Killing someone severs their spirit and therefore splits their body, spirit, and soul. Besides, an Ancient Greek man, like Herpo was, would hardly consider murder as vile as we do today. It wouldn't even cross his mind that any murder (even an indirect one) could harm one's own soul.

No, the only way to "split" a soul is to first sever it from life, disconnecting the bond between soul and body. Essentially, the only way to promise you immortality is to kill yourself.

I know it sounds a little confusing, but, essentially, once the soul is severed from the spirit and body you can split it. Think of the herbal oil, once you have the oil, separate from the rest of the plant parts, you can combine it with new ingredients. You can only work on a specific aspect once you severed it from the other two and as what binds all three together is spirit — life — the only way to do it for a human soul — is death.

But really, how?

Well, here comes the second thing we know about making Horcruxs — that dear Herpo was Ancient Greek.

In Ancient Greece they had multiple different religious cults, some of which were Chthonic cults. Cults that dedicated themselves to death or ditties and heroes associated with death and more importantly — rebirth.

Many of these cults were dedicated to figures like Orpheous, Dyonysus, Persephone, characters in mythology who are known for going through the underworld — through death — and coming back out. These cults were very secretive and not much is known about their practices, but some is.

What is known is that they had rituals were they reenacted a death and then rebirth (usually drinking wine — a water if life, was the representation of rebirth).

This created a very clear idea in my head — to split a soul, you'll have to ritualisticlly, magically kill yourself, severe a peice of your soul and then revive yourself with a water of life — a potion.

This potion is never mentioned, but I believe it exists due to these Chthonic cult rituals and how they were structured. Not only that, but the Greek underworld did have a river known for being incredibly painful to drink, literally made of fire, but being able to bring the dead back - The Phlegethon River.

Note: Lethe River Water (the river in the Greek Underworld that makes the drinker forget) is a canon ingredient in a Forgetfulness Potion.

So what is the dead body for?

Well, congratulations, you killed yourself to retrieve a sliver of your soul and revived yourself so you won't stay dead. You found an item you can keep secure to tie that sliver of soul, too. Now, how would you bind then? After all, the only thing meant to bind a human soul to a body is a human spirit - a human life... you get where I'm going with this.

This is why Tom didn't have to be the one to do the deed. As long as he had a recently deceased corpse to harvest the life from to use to bind his newly split soul and the item of his choice.

It explains why nothing was missing from the bodies. Myrtle and the Riddles were investigated by the Ministry of Magic. One would assume the aurors would've noticed if any corpse was missing a hand due to the killer eating it (as other Horcrux theories suggest).

Not only was nothing missing from the body, the soul was intact. Myrtle became a ghost after death, a ghost is quite literally, just the soul, no body, no spirit.

So the only thing that was taken from Tom's victims was their life, quite literally at that.

Is that all? Can we make a Horcrux now?

Not really. See, when analyzing spells in Harry Potter is their name.

Avada Kadevra - is a reference to an Aramaic healing spell "Abracadabra" pronounced in Aramaic as: "Avra Kadebra" and meaning "I will create as commanded". Merged with the Latin word "cadaver" meaning "corpse" to create -> "I will create dead bodies as commanded"

Or Wingardium Laviosa - is a cross of the English word "wing", the Latin word "arduus" (meaning "high, tall, lofty, steep, proudly elevated"), or "arduum" (meaning "steep place, the steep" and the Latin word "levo" (meaning to "raise, lift up"). So together the spell means -> "lift high up".

So, it's pretty clear spells, their names and incantations are very self-explanatory. So a Horcrux should be no different.

I've seen some attempts at translating the name Horcrux. Unfortunately, these attempts treated the name as Latin, modern Greek, or Old English. Herpo, was Ancient Greek, though, so I went and translated a few possible meanings from Ancient Greek (Classical Greek and Homeric Greek are what I looked at):

ὅρκος (orkus, pronounced "hor-kus") - an oath, the object by which one swears, bound by oath (still used in modern Greek).

κρόκες (crukes, pronounced "cru-kes") - saffron-colored (blood red in Greek), crocus flower. The crocus flower symbolizes both death (the saffron that is the spice) and rebirth (the golden crocus which brings renewal and joy) because Demeter wears them when Persephone returns from the underworld in myth.

So what we have is a spell called "binding oath of death and rebirth" which all around sounds fitting.

There might also be a "made in blood" tucked at the end due to the association of κρόκες with the color of blood.

But what does it matter?

Well, somewhat. As now with this name, I expect the binding between the spirit from the victim, the split soul, and the item would be done in a sort of oath - an orkus.

The association with blood gives us another hint. Blood is the part of the human body most representative of life. Therefore, in Alchemy, your blood is your spirit. So it'll make sense that your own blood would be used in the binding process or more correctly in the process of turning another person's spirit into your own. Making the thread to bind the body (item) and the soul piece your own. As it also refers to just a red firey color, it can indicate the Phlagatton potion I hypothesize should be part of the ritual due to how Chthonic rituals usually went, as the Phlagaton river is made of fire.

So we have a general idea on how to make a Horcrux. You need an item of your choice to bind your soul to. You need a life (spirit) harvested from a human that you transformed into being your own using your blood. And you need a piece of your own soul, which you get by killing yourself and then reviving yourself. And you finish it off by binding it all together with an oath.

But how could you make one accidentally?

So, everyone knows Voldemort succeeded in somehow making a Horcrux accidentally, something a lot of theories I saw don't account for. Becouse whatever process you need to go to to make a Horcrux, Voldemort went through all of it the night he died the first time and marked Harry.

All the steps for my method of making a Horcrux were met that night.

The item in qustion is baby Harry, nothing interesting there.

The soul sliver was split the way it always is — through death. Voldemort dies, killed by his own killing curse and that is what splits his soul.

The life or spirit that then binds his soul to Harry isn't Lily's spirit or James'; it's his own spirit that acts as a binder between Harry and Voldemort’s split soul. Because the spirit was already his, there was no need to transform it by blood.

Step-by-step guide to making Horcruxes:

I'm not going to actually give the full step-by-step least a budging dark lord is looking for this information. I do have notes about exact incantations and even the full recipe and instructions for the Phlagaton potion I'm going to mention. These instructions won't be here since they are more in the realm of speculation and headcanon. This is just the overview of the ritual based on canon information and the occult philosophy I mentioned above.

Step 1 - Life and Blood

Get access to a recently deceased human and extract their Mercury (Spirit or Life Essence).

Submerge the retrieved life essence with your own blood on a new moon (life and vitality). (7 drops of blood will probably do)

Step 2 - Water of Fire

To complete the cycle of death and rebirth you’ll need the Phlegeton Water potion to return you to life at the end of the cycle.

As you brew the potion, it must be brewed in a dark room, preferably underground to remind as much of the underworld as possible.

While brewing the potion one must be in the mindset of the Phlegeton, must be willing to go through agony to achieve eternal life and imbue these thoughts in their potion. (In alchemy, when working, it is believed you imbue your work with your thoughts during the Alchemical process. As an Alchemical process affects both the material being worked and the Alchemist themselves)

Likley Ingrediants:

Saffron spice

Golden crocus flower juice

Pomegranate juice

Step 3 - The Ritual Preparation

Set up your space so none of the components may escape the ritual space and so the ritual will not be interfered with.

Make sure the spirit you retrieved is within reach.

Make sure the item you desire will hold the Horcrux will be within reach as well.

Coax the spirit into the item and prepare it to tie your soul to the next step.

Step 4 - Death and Rebirth

To create a thread of your soul to tie to the ritual, you must die figuratively. Go through death to return stronger from the underworld.

Once you feel like death has reached you and your soul is separated you should heal your soul and finish the cycle, bringing you out of death and back to life by drinking the Phlegeton potion.

After the pain subsides you will feel healthier than before, stronger than before, and you’ll have an additional thread of sulfur (soul) in your chest to be pulled out and placed into the Horcrux.

The split-off soul should, on its own, try to search for life and a body to be bound to. If it doesn't, coax it out yourself and bind it to the Horcrux with the spirit you made in step 1.

Step 5 - Oath of Life

The connection between the body (the item), soul, and spirit is still unstable, if most likely strong enough to hold.

Swear the oath of life to finalise the bound between you, the Horcrux, and the soul thread together to ward off death.

I'll end with this note I made regarding Horcruxes when I started working on this theory:

I don't know what all goes into the process of making a Horcrux but I don't believe a person who truly likes themselves and doesn't want to inflict pain on themselves could make a Horcrux. Tearing up your soul is an act of arrogance above nature, sure, thinking you deserve to change the laws of the world and be the exception is part of it, but it's also an act of self-hatred. You need to hate yourself enough to be willing to kill yourself, hurt yourself, and tear yourself up in the most unnatural ways — hence why so few can do so, let alone more than once.

And Tom Riddle does seem to have that exact mix of arrogance, spite, and low self-esteem that would allow it.

[danwhobrowses]

Dune Part 2 Character Arcs Summed up in a Single Sentence

Spoilers for the movie below

Paul: I can accept murder and guerrilla warfare, but I draw the line on religion.

Chani: Oh so it's like that is it?

Jessica: You can either do it or I force you to do it, your 'choice'.

Alia: Mother I crave violence.

Stilgar: Only the true Messiah denies his divinity (this is how I cope win).

Princess Irulan: Dear Diary, I need a new wardrobe I'm wearing dangly metal bits in a fecking desert!

Feyd-Rautha: I may be a murderous sociopath *slits a servant's throat for dramatic effect* but even I'm not crazy enough to turn down Lea Seydoux.

Rabban: I would love to, but I'm in the middle of running for my life to do that.

Gurney: Either Duke 'em or Nuke 'em, Paul!

[audzss]

Thin Line ~1~

Summary: Rafe and Y/n have been neighbors for as long as they can remember, and despite that, they could not stand each other. So why is Rafe showing up at Y/n's window in the middle of the night without a shred of hatred in his eyes, but rather, desperation?

Thin Line Masterlist

Word Count: 1,409

Warnings: Domestic Violence, Angst.

Thin Line

It was just like every other night for Y/n, nothing out of the ordinary. There was a heavy amount of rain pounding against her window and roof, but for her that just the night much more relaxing. She was just finishing her nightly routine, applying some lip balm to her lips.

She was planning on maybe sneaking the tub of ice-cream from her freezer into her room and binging some Vampire Diaries all night long until she could physically no longer keep her eyes open, but of course, nothing ever seems to go her way.

She gave one last look at herself in her vanity mirror before standing up and heading towards her bedroom door, readying her future self for the lecture her dad would give her in the morning about eating the entire tub of ice-cream in one day.

However, as her hand twisted the doorknob, she was rudely interrupted by a loud knock on her window. She jolted and accidentally slammed her back into the door. Her heartrate increased dramatically as the only thought in her head was that she was about to be murdered in her own bedroom. Maybe she had been watching too much true crime shows.

Only when she finally heard the muffled voice outside of her window did she finally start to calm down.

'Thank god, it's just Rafe..' She thought to herself, only to realize who exactly it was, outside of her house, in the middle of the night.

She hurried to the window, opening it as quietly as she could to not alert her Father who could very well be awake after her slamming her whole body against her door. And there he was, Rafe Motherfucking Cameron standing outside of her window, soaking wet from the rain with a frantic look on his face. His face, which happened to be a little bloody and bruised.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at him, what the hell happened?

"What the fuck! What are you doing here Rafe!?" She whisper yelled at him, and it was like her words went through one ear and out the other. He had the audacity to not say anything at all and pull himself up through the window, pushing right through her.

"No, No- Rafe, you need to get the fuck out." She whispered at him, as he rushed to try and catch his breath, panting like he had just ran the marathon to get here.

"Just- Shut the hell up for a second!" He said frantically and way too loud, taking a step closer to Y/n. She was about to yell at him before remembering she was not alone in this house, and her dad would kill him and her if he figured out Rafe was here.

"Shh.. Just, be quiet and explain." She said, closing the window before getting a better look at his face. He looked like he got into a one sided fight and got his ass kicked. His hair was dripping water everywhere and Y/n was ten seconds away from kicking his ass herself.

"It's- My dad.. Y/n, he's gonna kill me.." His voice was breaking and his eyes were glossy, Y/n wouldn't be surprised if some of the rain droplets running down his cheeks weren't in fact rain at all, but tears.

"Okay just.. calm down, kay'? She said, a little concerned for his wellbeing at this point. She's not friends with Rafe, quite the opposite in fact, but being his neighbor, she has some.. insight, on what his dad is like. Unfortunately this wouldn't be the first time she's seen his face bloody and bruised from his own dad.

Apparently she had said the wrong thing to Rafe in his fragile state.

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down." He said angrily, looking at her with fire in his eyes. She rolled her eyes, scoffing at the fact that he just couldn't go 5 minutes without getting pissed at her, even in a situation like this.

"I'll say whatever the hell I wanna say Rafe, because your in my house, in my room, by your own choice. So unless you want to get the hell out, shut the fuck up."

This is how their dynamic had always been, Rafe always fires first, and Y/n fires back hotter, in a never ending loop, until Rafe walks away or someone steps in to stop Y/n from decking him right in his stupid face.

He rolls his eyes and turns away from her, looking out of the window he had came through not even three minutes ago. "Could you at least get me a towel.. cunt." He whispers the last word so quiet that Y/n couldn't really understand what he said.

"Sorry, what was that?" She says a little louder than she meant, and he finally turns to look back at her, his face stuck in a permanent scowl. "I said, could you.. please, get me a towel." Y/n huffed, but decided to leave the whole situation alone and get him a towel, not wanting to wake the whole house up.

He took the towel to his face first, hissing as he rubbed the bruising around his cheek and eye a little too hard. Y/n almost laughed, but she really didn't want to deal with his attitude right now, so she just settled on looking away from him and smiling.

When he was done, he threw it in the laundry basket across the room, which Y/n took as a sign that she could look at him without laughing. Which was an absolute lie. Once she saw his ruffled up hair that was sticking out in every direction and parted in all the wrong places, she couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"What's so fucking funny?" He grumbled out. She looked back up at him, pointing at his hair, before leaning over to laugh some more. He groaned and started messing with his hair, using his hands.

When the moment was over, the room was filled with an awkward silence, both of them just standing there with nothing really left to say.

"So.. why are you here Rafe? Couldn't you have just went to one of your friends houses." Y/n asked while walking over to her bed, before plopping down against the pillows.

"Dad took my keys, your the closest.." He mumbled, sliding his back against the wall. He looked up at Y/n with a pleading look in his eyes, a hint of desperation too, and Y/n what the next question was before it even left his mouth.

"Look.. can I just stay one-", "No. Nope, Rafe Cameron, you are not spending the night at my house." She interrupted him, and suddenly, he was standing again, the panic resettling in his eyes.

"I'll do anything! What do you want, money? I have money-"

"I don't need your money Rafe, you can't stay here." She said calmly as he looked at with wide eyes, like she had just stole the world right out from under his feet.

"Please- I can't go back there, Y/n, please don't make me go back there." He said, voice cracking as did Y/n's resolve. God, she was too empathetic. She groaned and grabbed a pillow, plowing it onto her face.

"Say something?" He mumbled quietly, hopefulness filling his voice.

She took the pillow off of her face to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed as she rolled her eyes. "Fine.." She grumbled, as Rafe smiled.

"You're sleeping on the ground, and don't even think about taking one of my pillows or blankets."

He scoffed, "Seriously?" She shrugged and turned over, wrapping herself in a blanket and reaching out to turn off her lamp. Rafe groaned and looked down at his feet.

Whelp, this was better than going back to his house, to his dad. Even the thought made a shiver roll down his spine. He kneeled down and used his arm as a pillow to rest his head on, hissing as his bruising came into contact with his arm.

He shivered as his damp clothes stuck to him, making the cold air in the room ten times colder. He almost thought he would just freeze to death tonight, until he heard some shuffling and a blanket was thrown onto his face.

He smiled and readjusted himself, wrapping the blanket around him and closing his eyes.

End Note: Sorry if there's a lot of mistakes, I wrote this while dead tired also much more back story in the next chapter!

[le-claire-de-lune]

Listening to the dramatic audio versions of The Murderbot Diaries on Hoopla. It's somewhere between a regular audiobook narration and a radio play

There was a post on here a while back about how wild Artificial Condition must have been from the perspective of Murderbot's clients

Similarly, Perihelion comes back from its low-stakes delivery gig talking about its new best friend, an actual rogue SecUnit. We know from later that Peri tells the crew about Murderbot and, presumably, their wild time preventing murder, committing murder, breaking & entering, watching TV, and performing surgeries.

[leclerc-s]

track 001. sola

─── ❝ y de todo me olvidaré, hasta de tu nombre me olvidare ❞ ───

series masterlist // next

liked by user 71, user39, user20 and others

f1updates penelope trevino, longtime family friend of the sainz family has appeared in the paddock for the first time since 2016. she is here for the first grand prix of the year.

user92 she looks hot. single penelope is thriving, give us the mclaren boys content girl.

user73 our latina queen coming through with the style. love her outfit

↳ user64 she's not latina if she's from spain.

↳ user73 she was born in the usa to mexican parents and grew up traveling to mexico, spain, and the states. she's a latina, simply because she grew up in spain or the states doesn't change that.

↳ user39 no one is doing it like her, truly

user20 i fucking love her fit. i could never wear something like that because i hate denim dresses, they're so uncomfy but she looks so good in it.

penelopetrevino posted a new story

note to self: don't leave your phone unattended near two toddlers.

landonorris i am not a toddler! penelopetrevino remind me again how old you are? landonorris THAT'S NOT FAIR!

carlossainz55 you just had to post it didn't you? penelopetrevino you just had to look so disgusted didn't you? carlossainz55 i can't help feeling disgusted by the thought of you penelopetrevino eres insoportable (you are unbearable) carlossainz55 i'm glad your boyfriend cheated on you penelopetrevino bastardo, i hope you dnf (bastard)

she slammed her phone face down, frustrated with carlos sainz. he was completely and utterly annoying. she frowned and failed to notice the person sitting beside her, "first one?"

penelope jumped up, her reflexes having her hold her fists up. the person held their hands up, and penelope deflated, noticing it was a girl. she smiled at penelope, holding out a hand for a handshake, "natalia ruiz."

"penelope trevino," she replied, shaking her hand, "and i'm sorry about that but you scared me."

she shrugged, "i would've done the same. i grew up with charles and his brothers, violence was always the answer. is this your first race? i haven't seen you around here before."

penelope shook her head, "i haven't been here since 2016. my schedule got too busy to attend races."

"and you're here with?"

"carlos, with mclaren."

"ah, you must be the annoying thorn in his side."

"the bastard said that about me? i'll have you know i am a saint compared to carlos sainz. he told me he was glad my boyfriend cheated on me."

"ooh," natalia said, "that's tough. i can help you get back at him."

"how?"

"adding you to our group chat, i'm surprised daph hasn't added you yet. she always manages to get everyone's number. it's sort of scary what she can do."

"do it," penelope said, "anything to further annoy carlos."

natalia laughed, handing her phone to her, "put your number in there. i have a feeling we're about to be good friends penelope trevino."

natalia ruiz added one person

max verstappen why does everyone suddenly love adding people? bad enough leclerc and ruiz are here.

charles leclerc i can and will crash into you. natalia ruiz fuck you verstappen max verstappen no thanks, you're not my type. daniel ricciardo yeah, he prefers small blondes named mae jones max verstappen i'm going to murder you

carlos sainz you have got to be shitting me

carlos sainz what have you done?

carlos sainz is nothing sacred anymore?

lewis hamilton i bet it's penelope, the girl he was complaining about earlier.

natalia ruiz you're being dramatic carlos, she's a nice girl. she almost punched me.

penelope trevino YOU SCARED ME! FIGHT OR FLIGHT! I PICKED FIGHT! I ALWAYS PICK FIGHT!

daniel ricciardo i don't get it, why invite her if you were going to complain about her?

carlos sainz i didn't invite her, my dad did. i don't want her anywhere near me.

mae jones didn't know princess diaries 2 was getting a remake.

daphne jones huh, you're right. mae jones of course i am, i always am daphne jones that's debatable

fernando alonso i was under the impression he liked her? it seems like those things children do to get someone's attention.

penelope trevino the better spanish driver is so wrong. he doesn't like me. i also don't like him. we tolerate each other because our families like each other.

carlos sainz tolerate each other is too nice

pierre gasly are you not spanish too?

penelope trevino I'M MEXICAN! YOU FRENCH FRY!

natalia ruiz she's like charles when they call him french

charles leclerc i'm not french, i'm monegasque.

pierre gasly tell that to arthur, he seems to think he's french. charles leclerc arthur's too busy trying to date sergio's niece, his opinion doesn't matter. lance stroll isabella? she said they were besties? or something like that charles leclerc the other one! lance stroll dulce? charles leclerc THAT ONE!

daphne jones carlos why do you even dislike her? she seems like a nice girl

carlos sainz oh, she's got you all fooled penelope trevino i've only ever been mean to you in retaliation pendejo. you cut off my pigtail when we were kids so i shaved your head

daniel ricciardo i find it hard to believe that carlos was ever bald

penelope trevino he was like 7 and i was 5. i am petty.

natalia ruiz heard your song with bad bunny, please marry me. it's like dress level good

pierre gasly translation: it's a horny song esteban ocon forever scared. do not look up the lyrics

natalia ruiz they make it sound worse in english, it's actually not that bad

fernando alonso she lies. penelope trevino it's not that bad mae jones i translated the lyrics, it's pretty bad. i aspire to write a song as horny as that one day.

sebastian vettel somehow i get called dad but all of you tend to 'adopt' the first person you come across

natalia ruiz that's not true! i'm simply helping a friend annoy someone else.

carlos sainz what have i ever done to you natalia?

natalia ruiz nothing but i love chaos and a good enemies to lovers

carlos sainz me and her? never.

penelope trevino the two of us? never in a million years

lewis hamilton screenshotting so when you two inevitable end up together i have proof.

daniel ricciardo I DID THE SAME THING YEARS AGO!

max verstappen why do i vaguely remember that??

liked by nataliaruiz, charles_leclerc, landonorris and others

penelopetrevino two pretty (new) bestfriends take on australia!

view all comments

nataliaruiz we're besties now! even if you almost punched me

↳ penelopetrevino of course, but don't sneak up on me if you don't want to get nearly punched.

user86 this is so iconic of them

user29 the dresses are so iconic of them but who took the picture??

landonorris so no picture credits? wow mom

↳ penelopetrevino so sorry my son 📸 landonorris

↳ landonorris thanks mom!

↳ user55 lando literally imprinted like a baby duck on penelope

user44 not charles liking a post because his bestie was tagged in it

↳ user31 those two are not just besties and we all fucking know it

↳ user91 facts! those two are in love

user64 so no carlos???

lando norris i don't why carlos doesn't like penelope, she's nice??

penelope trevino ugly bitches hate me

carlos sainz says the ugly person herself

lance stroll he may hate her guts but he will never call her a bitch

alex albon we respect women here lance! lance stroll i know that alex!

mae jones love a good enemies to lovers

natalia ruiz same, it's mia and nicholas but irl

max verstappen i still don't get what that means

daniel ricciardo right, forgot you basically had no childhood. we're watching princess diaries 2. EVERYONE TO MY HOTEL ROOM!!

lance stroll CAN I COME TOO??!!! esteban ocon lance, buddy, are you feeling okay??

lance stroll THAT WASN'T ME!! I HAVE A CHILD CHASING ME!!

george russell i can hear him screaming for sergio to "control his child"

george russell i wasn't aware checo had children who could text.

sebastian vettel that's his niece george.

george russell i knew that...

lance stroll DANNY!! CAN I COME?!! I LOVE THE PRINCESS DIARIES!!

daniel ricciardo of course isabella.

lance stroll this is why you're my favorite red bull driver

max verstappen what the fuck?

pierre gasly HE DOESN'T EVEN DRIVE FOR RED BULL ANYMORE

lance stroll added one person

isabella perez i don't care. are any of you dating daphne freaking jones??

daniel ricciardo how the fuck??

penelope trevino DANIEL'S DATING DAPHNE JONES??

isabella perez i saw you guys kissing one time last year... if you really want to keep your relationship a secret maybe try harder

daphne jones I TOLD YOU RICCIARDO!! BUT NO YOU SAID, "WHO COULD POSSIBLY SEE US??"

daniel ricciardo how was a i supposed to know she was around??? she's like a baby duck.

isabella perez i am.

isabella perez i'm like jacob with rotisserie chicken in twilight

max verstappen what the fuck is twilight

isabella perez oh, they weren't joking when they said you had no childhood.

penelope trevino what the fuck did i get myself into??

isabella perez SINGING IN THE SHOWER!! LA-DA-DI LA-DA-DA

penelope trevino oh por dios

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar @weekendlusting @ragioniera

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! i'm not quite sure how i feel about this part but i lowkey think it's cute. so here it is! please do not expect parts this frequently, i'm just trying to get the first part out for every series in the honest series. i'll probably disappear for a week after that, it's a pattern for me.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[iamnmbr3]

now i want to read a fanfic where Harry thinks it’s weird when he hears Dumbledore talking about Tom, and when other two also hear it from Harry, they also think it’s weird. And it leads them to be cautious of Dumbledore when he interacts with them.

Be the change you want to see!

Interestingly Harry might have thought this had it not been for the fact that by that point in the story he has very legitimate reasons to be biased against Tom. Voldemort murdered his parents and tried to kill him during his first year. And then he met diary!Tom...who also tried to kill him. Not to mention everything that went down in the graveyard in 4th year and Sirius's death at the Department of Mysteries. So Harry (and the readers) are primed to view the memories in a certain light and it's easy to ignore a lot of the larger context.

What might be really cool is if Harry had kept the diary longer and saw some of these memories from Tom's POV in the diary (and without the knowledge of who Tom actually was). Harry liked diary!Tom a lot - to the point that hilariously in the end of book 2 Tom keeps having to resort to increasingly pointed "ha ha I'm evil actually!" reveals until he finally gives up and just spells it out because Harry is so invested in the 'Tom and I are going to be best friends and save the day together' narrative that he refuses to notice any of Tom's subtler attempts at doing a dramatic reveal. Given that, if Harry had seen memories like Tom's first meeting with Dumbledore from Tom's POV he probably would've been pretty receptive to narratives suggesting that Dumbledore is not as trustworthy as he seems etc. That leads to an interesting question about how Harry would then react to discovering the truth (assuming he did and that the diary didn't possess him etc).

[chronic-escapixt]

His Rose ~ Part 4

(Kai Parker x Bennett OC fanfiction)

content warnings/tags ~ Dark fiction, murder, abuse, trauma, dubcon, CNC, smut, daddy kink, dom!kai, p in v, degradation, humiliation, rough sex, age gap, unhealthy!dom/sub dynamics, dacryphilia, fingering, biting, choking, innocence kink, hair pulling, edging, overstimulation, safe word, aftercare, manipulation. Minors DNI

I don't claim ownership of The Vampire Diaries or its characters. All credits go to the rightful owner(s). I only own my original character(s).

Word count: 1.7k

K.P. Masterlist

Their hips rolled together, breathy moans and vocal praises tickling her ear as her nails scraped down his back. Kai would work her over for hours with unyielding stamina until the ecstasy of their cumulative passions mellowed her into post-sex bliss and utter exhaustion. She’d snore softly after drifting off to the sound of his heartbeat while he’d stay up and watch her breathing slow and her body snuggle into his chest for warmth. Completely vulnerable, too easy to wrap his arm around her little neck and squeeze the life out of her but Kai resisted those intrusive thoughts only because for his plans, he needed her alive.

He had her trust by playing the “nice guy”. Sure, it was boringly cliché and there was only so much that vanilla sex would do to satisfy his darker urges but he’d be whatever she wanted if it got him out of this hell hole by the next eclipse.

Rose lost track of where she ended and Kai began, his possessive hands always on her body. Following her around like a lost puppy before pulling her close and resting his head on her shoulder, his unspoken way of telling her to hurry up so they could get back to spooning. If they were in the car, he drove with his left hand while his right slipped under the hem of her skirt, fingertips tapping rhythmically on her inner thigh until it drove her crazy. And he loved to grab her ass, enjoying the adorable squeals that escaped her when she was caught off guard.

All alone in the bathroom, she reclined back in the tub, steamy suds relaxing every aching muscle he gave her. She felt naked without him on her body, yet cherished the short periods of privacy she could carve out for herself.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Yes, Kai…” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t get too annoyed. He usually came knocking after 20 minutes but this time, at least half an hour passed before his impatience got the best of him.

“Rosyyy… are you almost done? You’ve been in there foreverrr…” he whined through the door.

“I’ll be out soon,” she sighed, sinking deeper into the water.

He groaned dramatically, hesitating before retreating to her room to wait. Plopping down on the bed, he immediately took notice of a dark leatherbound book peeking out from under her pillow. Did she have a secret grimoire, perhaps she was planning to cross him after all and wasn’t as clueless as she seemed? He flipped through the pages, but there weren’t any Latin incantations, just dates and little entries.

He read the first line that caught his eye:

The first time he fucked me, I knew he was holding back, so afraid he’d break me but I was too afraid to let him know I loved the pain.

“No fucking way...” This was too good to be true, just to be sure, he flipped to the end where he found her frilly signature. With confirmation, he eagerly read another passage.

I want him to ruin me. Split me on his cock until I cry and push him away then choke me and fuck into me harder, push my face down and suffocate my sobs in my pillow. I wanna be reminded exactly who I belong to.

Her confessions became more depraved with visceral descriptions of her needs, filthy fantasies contrasting with the adorable way she curled her letters and dotted her I’s with little hearts. He was so focused that he didn’t notice her come in.

“Hey, give me that!” He got up and blocked her attempts to reach her journal with one hand while he read on. “Kai, stop it. You’re invading my privacy!” She bleated. his eyes flashed to her with a stifled laugh.

“Relax, Rosy… you’re the one who left your diary open on the bed. I just came in here to wait for you and I almost sat on it. When I looked down, let’s just say some of the things you wrote were… enlightening.”

Shame broiled her face and tightened her throat but maybe she could lie her way out of this, “I-It’s not mine… I found it…” She squeaked. His brow raised, clearly not buying it. An exasperated sigh left her. "Just give it back, Kai… I need to get dressed because I have laundry to do and I have to start the marinade for the-"

He snapped the book shut, reached out and squished her hot cheeks in his hold, wrenching her face upwards to meet his burning gaze. “Look at me.” Instantly she obeyed, the sudden base in his voice sending a pulse directly to her needy cunt. “Guess what? I know all your little secrets, and you're not going anywhere until you tell me everything. Every kink, every need, I wanna hear it all from your pretty lips.”

In one motion, he released her, ripping the towel from her dripping body, her back hitting the mattress with little effort. His hand snaked up her thigh, fingers meeting her clit, drawing little moans as he rubbed out slow figure 8s.

“I-I didn’t-”

“Don’t deny it.” Two fingers slipped inside her while his eyes returned to the page, flipping through until he found what he was looking for. “... It says here, you want me to ruin you. What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t k-”

Kai grunted and bit down on her earlobe, hard enough to shock her and elicite a ragged whimper from the back of her throat. He released it and growled, “If you lie to me one more time, I’ll flip you over and make your pretty ass all red..” He loved the way that made her quiver, “But you’d like that wouldn’t you?” His warm minty breath fanned across her cheek.

She bit her lip and looked away, so he pinched her clit until she cried out her response, “YES, I’D LIKE THAT!”

“Mm, that’s my kinky girl. Now answer the first question."

“… I-I want you to be rough w-with me,” she stuttered in a small voice.

“Tell me how..”

Rose swallowed down her last bit of pride. “I- I want.. want you to use me… push me to my knees and f-fuck my throat… bend me over and rail me so hard I can’t think straight… want you to pull my hair and bite my shoulder when you.. cum inside m-me...” She continued until he gave a satisfied hum.

“Good girl, see how easy that was?” He cooed, moving to release her hair from its loose bun, allowing the caramel tendrils to messily fall around her face. The sudden tenderness made her dizzy.

He pumped in and out while rolling her clit between his fingers, drawing out one confession after another until her lips parted, eyes blown wide as he dangled her between pleasure and desperation, so tempted to grind her hips and take it, ride his hand to her heart’s content, yet too afraid of the punishment he’d inflict on her if she dared. Arousal soaked the sheets beneath her thighs, he had her right where he wanted her.

“There’s one more thing, isn’t there?” His lips formed a cocky smirk.

“huh…?” She uttered, too overwhelmed to understand.

“C'mon, you know what you want... to be overpowered, held down and punished when you try to struggle… I’d make you take it all at once and you couldn’t do anything to stop me,” he summarized smugly, licking his lips.

“Oh god, you read that part too..” The embarrassment made her want to recoil and disappear in the mattress, her hands raised to cover her face.

He yanked her wrists down. “No, none of that, no hiding. I honestly find it impressive you managed to convince me you’re a vanilla angel when you’re really just a perverted slut.”

Her jaw slackened, the shock of his degradating words biting into her. “Kai-”

“Nuh-uh, that’s not my name. What’s my name, Rosy?” Her melted brain buffered as he took to scissoring her walls apart, preparing her. “What’s my name, hmm?.. the name you wrote on every page…”

Just as she realized, he sped up. “..daADDY!” She yelped as her belly tightened violently.

He removed his digits when she clenched down, chuckling at her little whines and whimpers, cruelly denying her another orgasm.

“Damn right I’m your daddy… but if you insist on being treated like a brainless fucktoy, we should have a.. what do you call it?”

“… a s-safe word?” she uttered.

“Exactly that! How about… ‘eclipse’ ? If you want to stop for whatever reason, just say it and that's your way out, understood?”

She nodded her head slowly but he frowned, not satisfied with her lack of response.

He lifted her chin. “Use your words, princess.”

“Yes daddy,” she mewled sweetly, making his hard cock swell in his shorts.

“Now that we have that sorted out,” he stuffed his slick covered fingers down her throat, stroking her tongue as she keened at the flavor, “I should let you know I’ve been keeping my own secrets, but you wouldn’t have any idea because I’m not a silly girl who writes them down for anyone to read. I know you hide this part of yourself because you're afraid people will judge you but I don’t. I want to know everything so I can do all those things to you and more that you couldn’t even think up in your dirty little diary...”

He had her flipped on her stomach and raised her hips, her only warning the rattle of his belt before he slammed into her sensitive core, burying himself to the hilt in one stroke. It hurt so good the pain tore a ragged cry from her throat as her tiny cunt struggled to take all of him but he didn’t have to pretend he cared anymore because he knew she loved it, evident by the way she leaked down his balls while holding onto the quilted comforter for dear life.

He yanked her up by the base of her hair. “Isn’t this what you wanted, babe?” He husked. Her response, an indiscernible whine. His tongue darted out to taste the tears that already streaked her pretty face. “Aw baby, did I ruin you already? What a shame, I’m just getting started.”

Holding her by the back of the neck granted him more leverage to pull her into each thrust reaching deeper, pounding her gummy cervix. "Fuckkk.." he groaned.

“Daddy, please,” she sobbed out, walls writhing around him, the intensity rendering her with barely enough strength to reach back and splay her fingers across his lower abdomen, arms turned to jelly just before she could try to push at him.

"Stop that. You practically begged for this," he growled, snatching her wrists in one bruising grip while landing two harsh slaps to her right cheek in a show of dominance. She screamed.

Her juices squelched between their bodies but she was too far gone to feel ashamed. “I know you're close... just let go, cum on my cock, baby... just like that," he whispered, breath hitching as she came on command, her little back arching into him by pure instinct as her brain had long gone gooey. He got off on the control. Strong arms linked around her convulsing body as he fucked her through her release while warding off his own, wanting to prolong her torment a little longer.

He let her top half melt into the mattress, her face buried in the pillow while his powerful hands captured her pelvis, continuing the assault on her battered cunt. She pulled at the bedsheets with white knuckles.

“One more… I know you’ve got it in you.. just one more princess, c'mon, wanna’ feel you cum hard this time.” He groaned through clenched teeth, snapping his hips at just the right angle that had her keen with each thrust. Her cunt hugged him like a slippery glove made just for him. Sweat dripped down his brow and gravely moans escaped his lips as she tightened and creamed around him with a muffled cry.

Her glossy eyes fixated on the ceiling as she regulated her breathing, not blinking yet not at all focused. Kai carefully wiped her down with a damp rag. Her silence made him worry that he’d taken it too far. Hurt her. Scared her, so much she’d never let him touch her again- or at worst, refuse to help him leave. He was desperate to know what she was thinking or at the very least hear her voice to ease his mind.

“Hey Rosy..” he reached down and caressed her soft cheek, “Rosalina?” he whispered softly.

She nestled her face into his palm, the corners of her lips raising weakly as she breathed out.

“Thank you, daddy.”

[godofdystopia]

I really like your dark urge posts and especially the ones about orin and I really find fascinating how the sibling are understood almost in the inverse depending on the audience like outside the temple people dislike Orin IMMENSELY because she’s seen as too bloodthirsty and we do see evidence with her killing assistants of Gortash just to talk about how badly she want to gut him and how she doesn’t stray from that conversation and she does believe in Bhaal’s dream of killing everyone, but in the temple about the Bhaalist and pre game Durge she’s condemned heavily for being too artistic and premeditated and valuing quality of a murder over quantity which we see a method to the people she chooses to kill or kidnap to hold hostage or how she needles you with letters at fight versus just fighting or even her dramatic intended original coup against Durge not even making sure they’re dead and frankly from her diary entry calling them mindless and her speech about wanting them to be a mindless puppet it seems like she didn’t want them dead vs to live disgracefully originally and we see how she does use bodies as display even her own mother in there privacy of a room no one is going actively in and out.

Versus Durge is praised by Bhaal, the butler, and everyone in the temple not only for their direct line from Bhaal alone that orin can’t replicate ever even if her line is probably intentionally murky so Sevarok who already tried to throw a coup against Bhaal himself could get as close as possible to making his own kid related to only himself to do what he couldn’t (and sevarok and bhaal both setting Uk the sibling to end up in fight to the death like the fratricide duel practice saverok I believe started? And that sevarok if you confront him after killing Orin will try to kill you to be the chosen and given him having Helena try to be a chosen by killing Orin probably was not only trying to be the murder god again by setting these murders up but also does what he both compliments and insults Orin for by raising quietly through the side and in his case by not even doing the killing himself despite the title he wants). Especially if you break her verbally she accuses Durge of stealing both her and her grandfathers inheritance from Bhaal despite being made by Bhaal given how Helena doesn’t hesitant to try to take her place but makes me wonder what on earth their conversations with like that he didn’t immediately seem like a lair talking around either Helena or Durge or other worshippers.

But I find it so interesting that through the play through and the way durge both boast the quantity of their kills, the wha they’re praised by most bhaalist and insult by orin for it, they’re definitely as much if not more bloodthirsty then orin. Yet outside the temple Durge palms multiple heists that require patience and premeditation and discipline including in the hells and from an arch demon and was respected and feared by people outside the cult for their violence and control. And even taking a tip from Goretash about former bhaalist bones in a museum and taking offense at it being tourist attraction bc Durge does have some idea and defensiveness about the temple as a family and planning both a heist for the bones but also a murder of many as revenge/Justice. And this does concede with Goretash dies of murder as a means of messaging but that relation ship is also so interesting here the gap he sees the two’s behavior as. Especially since their relationship with Goretash that had them apologizing to Bhaal for losing sight of the goal to kill everyone and is condemned by Orin for doing such yet, Goretash not only explicitly says he respect you for your control and discernment he doesn’t think Orín has but canonically massively dislikes mass murder and doesn’t even want to hear what you think about it if you argue with him about Orin after killing her despite you being a bhaalist. Which I definitely think is related to the sides of the two he saw. Which I feel like must have built the resentment more for Orin seeing durge not only get praised for a huge long term plan but sounding more like bane disciple then a bhaalist and she’s the one insulted for things you both associate more with the older sibling.

People do both act differently and are seen different by different people especially groups but I just find it so interesting and I think the game does a good job here showing how roe game durge and orin were neither that different but also why they clashed so badly she’d attempt a coup but also couldn’t carry out the plan durge started and how much other people influenced (especially directly from the butler to sevarok to bhaal) their relationship and antagonism. (Though I also think the difference in perception is related to Durge growing up outside the temple and not meeting the butler until “maturity” versus Orin being born and raised there). Idk I just think it’s very neat and drive the sibling animosity in such an abusive home to an interesting boiling point where you can se how Orín and and pre game Durge saw and understood more of each other then other people who couldn’t understand not being in the family or the temple (especially Goretash saying he’s never been to the temple) but also never really respected or looked in the other in the eye truly.

Sorry for the length, I just find it all really interesting but I really like fratricide in fiction where it’s the aeducan family cycles of brothers killing brothers in dragon age or lion king or hamlet. I think larian did a great job escalating their themes of abuse and familial cycles of violence for the Dark Urge Origin and I would love more of your thoughts on any of it 😅

You, you are my favorite ask this year.

Thank you for giving me the chance to infodump about my Durge Family Mechanics and just how much of a sad and pathetic little meow-meow Orin is if you really think about it.

So Durge was the Golden Child, the Prodigy, the Purest Bhaalspawn that ever was, An Antichrist born from a drop of Bhaal's own gore. Durge never stood a chance, from both the Noble Stalk and Lvl 6 Heal its been shown that Bhaal has had his murderous claws in Durge's mind since the very beginning. No Childhood friends allowed, no other family allowed, nothing outside of Bhaal's Grand Design for global murder allowed.

"Was i sweet once?" In snippets and chances stolen when you could, you were sweet and you tried and tried and tried- But you were the Golden Child, The Purest Bhaalspawn, The Antichrist. You never stood a chance. Any connection was severed when you slept, any escape route was closed by death, any outside connection was forcibly removed. Only Bhaal, only the Dark Urge.

And then we have Orin. Orin: the Zuko to your Azula, the Scar to your Mufasa, the child who always came second. Sarevok may not be working on the same level that Bhaal is but he still never gave her a chance.

Raised by murderers, raised by the cult. She is the child of a child of a Bhaalspawn, and the child of a Bhaalspawn on top of that. Let's not get into that and instead get into how Sarevok, in his own ways, ruined any chance Orin had as well.

Orin may never have had the Dark Urges, she never had Sceleritas whispering in her ear and encouraging her worst aspects, she never had the hooks of Bhaal himself clawed deep in her very mind and soul. And yet because of Sarevok she never stood a chance, she was raised to kill Durge. Raised to kill the person that was raised as her sibling. Raised to hate and despise Durge and desire their downfall all because Sarevok wanted what he was denied in the first games. Where Durge was made to be the perfect Bhaalspawn, Orin was raised to be the perfect Bhaalspawn.

And yet it was never enough.

Orin is despised by the cult for not being enough, not being murderous enough, for killing wrong, for not being as pure as Durge. the people who raised her, who she grew up around, looked down on her as second best and passed her over in favor of Durge. Is it any real wonder that she struck out and tried to murder her sibling? to take what she was raised to crave and desire? To try and claw some semblance of respect from the peoplke who despised her?

And it was never enough.

She wasn't Durge, she wasn't the mastermind, she wasnt enough: Not for the cult, not for the Chosen, not even for Bhaal. she was the second best, the runner up, the perpetual failure who wasnt a pure Bhaalspawn. The chosen hate her for not being Durge, the Cult hate her for not being Durge, Sarevok sees her as a tool and Bhaal sees her as a replacement.

Neither Orin or Durge had a childhood, not really. Durge was a cuckoo forced into an unsuspecting nest, a nest that was coated in blood because of Bhaal. Orin was raised by serial killers and murderers, almost choked by her own mother because of Sarevok. Durge had friends: friends they played with, friends they vivisected alongside Sceleritas. but did Orin? Did Orin have anyone besides subordinates and lackeys? Perhaps she didnt, perhaps young Orin looked at Durge having a family (until it was ruined) and friends (until they were stolen away) and seethed.

Neither Durge nor Orin had anything outside the cult: any connection severed, any lifeline cut. And together they were pti against one another. Durge looking down at the upstart, and Orin looking up at the idol. Hate upon hate, fueled by Bhaal and Sarevok. Fathers who saw them as tools, as weapons, as things instead of people.

They never stood a chance

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Fourteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, gun play, GEN. SMUT [all possible tags, not necessarily all apply]

Info: Ghost is whiny, He’s feeling petty, he told you so!![diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. Stalker!Anakin Character art (as Ghost) MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: September 2nd

I lied. I said I wasn’t mad at you, but I am.

It’s not like I tell you no to anything, so why wouldn’t you just ask me first? Are you just desperate for a moment away from me and too nice to tell me that? Running from your problems won’t help especially when your problem is me.

I did what I should’ve done a long time ago. A new software has been installed on your phone, very similar to the screen cloning software linked to my laptop. Only this one is active all the time, a constant feed of live audio that I’ve taken the liberty of flagging a few words within the code.

Anakin, hate, love, Ghost, annoying, angry… so on and so forth.

The software flagged several sections of audio within the timeframe of your drive to the cabin. I must say, I’m surprised about the things the two of you talk about, I’m never going to be able to look Han in the eye ever again.

I also lied to you about something else. I don’t work tonight, or tomorrow. I switched up my schedule with April for you, cause I have a little something planned for you. A little thing I’ve had tucked away, actually never intended on getting it out and doing anything with it really. It was a gift from Cliegg after there was a murder on the college campus last year.

Don’t worry, it wasn’t me that time.

Anyway, I think it might be fun. For me at least.

“Okay but I don’t get it.” Luke said, propping up his feet on the dash while you drove.

“What about it don’t you get?” You snorted, slowing to a stop at a traffic light. “I think it’s pretty self explanatory Luke.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t come equipped with a cooter and I’ve never, nor wanted, the opportunity to see one.” He crossed his arms and tilted his head back and rolled his shoulders. “I just don’t see the benefit.”

“First of all, it’s pretty.” Holding a finger up and adding a second, “second, it feels heavenly.”

“I am a gay man.” Luke scoffed, “Dicks aren’t very pretty. A little jewelry can’t fix that.”

“How does it even work? Does he have to take it out to piss? That’s inconvenient.”

“No!” You laughed, covering your mouth as you turned the dial to quiet the radio. “No, he doesn’t have to take it out. To answer your other question, it’s the metal balls on either end of the jewelry. That’s the point of the piercing you know? It rubs up-“

“Okay that’s enough, thoughts have been thunk.” He covered his ears and did a dramatic shiver of disgust.

“You asked!”

“I didn’t know you’d be so descriptive!”

“You described in great detail all about the massive ingrown hair on-“

“Oh my god! I told you never to mention that again!” Luke reached across the console and whacked you up the back of the head.

“I’m driving!” You squealed, your hand shooting out to the side and shoving his shoulder. “No, don’t you dare touch that radio! For fucks sake if that’s-“

“It’s ABBA.”

“Go to hell.”

————————————————————————

After two hours you reached the small lakeside cabin that was to be your home for the weekend. A cute little place with a loft and two small bedrooms. The kitchen was… lackluster; a fridge and a stove with a whopping number of three cabinets. The living room however did have a pool table, which in Luke’s eyes made up for the fact that your sister beat him to claiming the loft room, because she’d driven separately and arrived before you.

You chose the room to the left of the living room and Luke chose the one on the right. The view from your window was beautiful deep forest green, leaves and moss and huge tree trunks. While Luke’s was the deep blueish green lake water, the occasional white wake following a boat zipping past.

After tossing your bag onto the floor in the general direction of the nightstand you jumped onto the squishy and super cheap springy mattress on the tacky ‘rustic’ log bed. Pulling up Anakin’s contact you tapped the call button and listen to it ring on speakerphone.

“Hey pretty baby.” Anakin’s rich timbre flooded the line.

“Hi Ani.” You smiled despite him not being able to see you. “Just got into the cabin and picked my room.”

“Oh you got to pick?” He said curiously, “you got the loft didn’t you?” You could hear his grin.

“No, my sister did.” You scoffed, “I thought Luke would have a cow over it but he decided the pool table here would offset his disappointment.”

“Pool table hmm?” Anakin tsk’d.

“Hot tub too.” You grinned.

“A fuckin’-“ he groaned and let out a loud huff, “a hot tub?”

“Yes sir.”

“Hmph.” He snorted, “someone finally taught you some manners huh?”

“W-what?” You asked nervously, bringing the phone closer to you and hopping off the bed to shut the door. “Manners?”

“You just called me Sir didn’t you?” He laughed. “Been taking some etiquette classes?”

“Oh shut up.” You breathed out a sigh, a breath you’d almost choked on. Your guilty conscience was really beginning to steam roll your daily life, even on your mini-vacay you can’t escape your wrongdoings. Ghost was still haunting you all the way out here.

“Just teasing doll.” He snickered, “Anyway, what’s on your agenda?”

“Nothing for tonight, probably gonna sit on the dock and have some drinks, do a little bonfire, hot tub maybe.” You told him, beginning to relax again.

“Drinks? Be careful baby. It’s not exactly safe to drink and get into a hot tub.” He chided, “I’m serious.”

“I know.” You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Good girl.” He said, pleased enough with your response. “So what room did you say?”

“Oh! I didn’t actually oops. I got the one looking out into the woods, it’s real pretty, I’ll send you a picture after we hang up.” You said, shifting your weight to sit more comfortably.

“Aw thanks babydoll.” You could hear his little smile through his words. “Well, I should probably let you get back to it huh?” He sighed.

“If you wanna talk more-“

“I always wanna talk more but I don’t want to keep you from your fun.” He said a bit quieter. “Uh, just don’t forget to call and leave me a message before bed okay baby? I’d love to hear your pretty voice when I get off work tonight.”

“Okay Ani,” nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “I’ll talk to you soon then… I miss you.”

“I love you too.” He made a kissy noise and hung up quickly, leaving you with a frustrated, pinched brow that you reached up to sooth with the heel of your palm.

After snapping a quick picture of your view through the bedroom window, you rejoined your trio in the living room where Luke was teaching your sister to play pool. You stood and watched for a moment, seeing them bicker like they were just reminded you of how much you loved summer trips with them.

Growing up with a sister close in age to you was fun, except for when it wasn’t. She went to school before you did, made friends before you did. Of course you were only two grades behind, but there is a big difference between kindergarten and 2nd grade. She had always been happy to play with you until then.

So when she was meant to be paying attention to you, or at least making sure you were alive, while you were both outside… she was busy on the swing set in your backyard. Which is how you found yourself with scraped knees and (surely, most definitely) a broken ankle from your scooter.

A new family had moved in across the street from you not too long before the summer started, you hadn’t met them, didn’t even know they had kids, until you were being pecked on the shoulder by another child’s finger. After that, Luke was found wherever you were; glued at the hip was an understatement, your families were convinced you were soulmates, that you’d grow up to be married.

Jokes on them.

His sister Leia was outgoing and confident in ways that Luke lacked, so during that first summer she gravitated toward your sister. The twins became a binder, something that held the four of you together. Bridging the gap perfectly between kindergarten and 2nd grade as 1st graders.

It stayed that way, for the rest of your school years and after.

Your parents got along swimmingly, the four of you floated between the two houses. Nights often ending up with a pair of kids asleep in the floor, where one of those children did not belong. A quick phone call to the house across the street to make sure your sibling was there, then all was well and your parents would scoop Luke and you up and tuck you in.

You were seven the first summer your parents had the grand idea to spend a week on the lake. It was a tearful goodbye, kids who spent every possible waking moment with each other are not easily pried apart.

Your parents drove the full two hours to a cute lake house they’d found online and within the first 30 minutes of being there your father had enough of the sniffles and whines. By dinner time Luke, Leia and their parents were sitting around fire pit with you.

Thus your annual tradition was born and kept even after the horrid aftermath of Luke’s unexpected outing. Sans parents of course. Your father supported your mother even if his views didn’t fully align with hers. He was a ‘be gay, just don’t be gay in front of me’ type of person, while your mother was more of the ‘send him to conversion camp, he’s tainting my children’ type of gal.

That didn’t really jive with the whole ‘love and positivity’ approach that the twins parents had about the situation. Which leaves you where you are now, reminiscing on those happy childhood memories before everything got complicated, before you discovered the world outside of your safety net, before the consistent visits from your uninvited house guest.

A loud clap broke you out of the fog and suddenly you were hyper aware of your sister’s nose right in front of your face.

“Lauren!” You gasped, your eyes wide before softening into a grin.

“You’ve been staring into oblivion for a solid minute,” she giggled, “I thought about sticking my finger in your mouth but I was afraid you’d bite it off.”

“My mouth?” You asked confusedly.

“Yeah you’ve been catching flies, looking like a mouth breather.”

“Eew! Don’t call me that!” You scoffed, standing up and following her over to the pool table to discuss your evening plans.

——————————————————————————

Anakin watched your little blue dot travel back and forth from the cabin to the dock, he listened the chatter between the three of you as he drove the two hours out to the pine forest your weekend getaway was taking place. The mile long gravel driveway was perfect to stash his car off to the side of, no one would be coming in or out of the drive all weekend.

He walked through the woods, backpack slung over his shoulder, his hood up and mask on. It was 9:57 and the three of you were still on the dock. He could hear you talking about getting into the hot tub through the Bluetooth earbud he had in, that new software was really paying off.

He hadn’t planned to do this next bit, but he couldn’t help himself. He purposefully got his left shoe dirty, twisting his foot side to side in order even dirt for a proper footprint. Then he left his mark on the first step up to the front porch.

*ping*

‘Having fun?’

You laughed, picking up your phone and leaning back in your chair as you crossed one leg over the other and switched the sound off. You’d only had it on for when Anakin texted, and now he was. Or you thought he was until you realized the text came from your own number.

‘No. Don’t engage. He’s not going to know where you are, how could he possibly know?’ You thought to yourself. ‘I planned this in person, I told Anakin at his place not mine. All Ghost knows is that you’ve left for the weekend.’

You swiped the message away and let out a huff, deciding to take the opportunity to walk back up to the house and call your boyfriend.

“Guys I’m going up to the cabin, gonna call Ani.” You said, standing up and taking your hard lemonade with you. “Need anything?”

“Nope, we’re about ready to head back anyway.” Lauren answered, waving you off. “We’ll be up soon.”

With that you walked away, taking the worn dirt path back up to the house and dialed Anakin’s number, waiting for the voicemail to pick up your call.

‘Hey Ani.’ You smiled, crossing one arm across your chest to rest your other elbow on while you talked. ‘I’m probably not going to bed just yet, but I am going back up to the house. I just wanted to fill you in a little bit I guess.’

Once your shoes hit the gravel you absentmindedly kicked a larger rock off to the side, swinging out your leg and shifting your position to walk backwards, looking down at your sister and Luke on the dock.

‘We’ve been just hanging out all evening, made some sandwiches and had drinks by the water.’ You pivoted again as you neared the porch and looked down to ensure your footing before taking the first step up. ‘We’re going hiking tomorrow morn-‘

You scrunched up your face and took another look before backing away from the steps completely, your eyes scanned the porch and saw the cabin door was still shut.

‘Sorry, thought I saw something…’ you muttered into the phone, spinning slowly in a full circle to take a better look at the tree line. ‘I- okay, anyway. Going hiking tomorrow… probably swim too. There’s a canoe moored down there so maybe we’ll try that out.’

Off to the left of you behind your sisters car you swore you heard gravel crunching underfoot, but when you looked toward the dock, Luke and Lauren where still sitting there. You marched over to the opposite side and saw nothing, going so far as to look under her car and yours.

‘Okay well…’ You were certain now that someone was outside and you were not alone, your phone buzzed against you ear and you pulled it away to swipe away the message, not even registering the sender before holding your phone back up to your ear.

‘Uh alright well I’ll talk to you in the morning,’ you quickly walked back over to the porch steps and side eyed the footprint as if you’d expected it to disappear by now. ‘Goodni-‘

A strange feeling passed over you, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up and a chill ran down your spine like a drip of cold water. You were almost afraid to turn around.

‘I gotta go, Miss you bunches… goodnight.’ In your panicked state you didn’t have the same thought process you normally would, you’d simply ended the call and whipped your head around, expecting to find someone, something, that might’ve caused that hair-raising fear. There was nothing.

Breathing a sigh of relief you laughed at yourself. It had probably just been a rabbit, maybe you’d startled it and it kicked up some gravel. The footprint… it could have been there when you arrived, it could’ve been made by one of your group, including you.

You checked the message you’d swiped away and your blood ran colder than ice. Your rational explanations were bulldozed in seconds.

A picture of you, standing in the drive way, taken from behind your sisters car.

The breath was stolen from your lungs. Your sight was locked into tunnel vision, all you could see was the front door as you ran to it and pushed it open. Colliding with something solid and warm as you stepped inside.

Something living and breathing that gripped your hair and cradled you to its chest, something that kicked the front door shut and pressed a cold, blunt object to the temple of your head.

Something that made you want to scream.

Diary Entry: September 2nd continued

I have time to kill and nothing to do while I wait for you. So I figured I’d write alittle bit.

I’m currently sitting under a tree, watching you and your cute little ponytail swishing around while you giggle. You’re so beautiful. Everything you do is beautiful. I’ve never seen something as exquisite as you.

Maybe that’s part of the reason I want to ruin you so bad. Leading you, my innocent doe, down the path of corruption could quite possibly be my life’s work. How would you like that sweetheart?

You wanna be my magnum opus?

Though of course we do have the one small identity issue to take care of. I need to get my shit together and figure out what the fuck I’m going to do. It’s not like I can tippity tap it into Google: ‘how to tell my girlfriend I’ve been stalking her for almost a year’.

No thank you. I don’t trust WikiHow with the fate of my love life.

Let’s be for real. I don’t even trust myself with the fate of my love life because I’ve already managed to fuck shit up. I’m continuing to fuck shit up. What I’m about to do? It’ll fuck the fuck out of the shit.

What can I say other than love makes people do crazy things?

“Ghost.” Your voice was wobbly and unsure. “Is that a-“

“Gun? Absolutely.” He grunted, pressing the barrel into your skull.

“What are you doing? They’re gonna be back soon, you can’t be here!”

“I came to chat.” He said simply, leaning his head down to put the cheek of his mask against your warm skin. “I missed you.”

“Did you miss me? Is that why you left your boyfriend back home? Wanted to let me have you all to myself for a weekend?”

“No!” You snapped at him, twisting your head away from his.

“Heard you on the phone.” He cooed, “still can’t say the L word? Why’s that?”

“If Luke sees you… my sister- they’ll call the cops, you know that.” You pushed against his chest and felt it rumble with a low laugh beneath your palms.

“Stop deflecting, answer my question.”

“I told you I wasn’t going to talk about Anakin with you!” The whisper left your lips tainted in unease.

“I’m aware. That’s why we aren’t talking about it. You’re going to tell me.” He barked, holding you close to his chest and walking backwards toward your chosen bedroom.

“N-no, I won’t. That’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair?” He scoffed. “I don’t care if you think it’s unfair.”

“How did you find me?!” You wriggled from his arms the moment he closed the bedroom door.

“I know everything about you baby.” His voice low and much too confident for you to believe anything otherwise. He looked relaxed in the way that he reached behind himself and locked the door, leaning back on it and crossing his arms, one long leather finger running parallel to the barrel of the pistol.

“I just wanted one weekend!” You shouted taking off your sneaker and throwing it at him, he gave you no reaction and it only pissed you off more. “Just one!”

“One weekend away from you! I know you can see everything on my phone, you see and hear everything I do, why do you think I wasn’t the one planning this trip? I didn’t want you showing up here!” Yelling at him in a way you never had before as you stalked toward him with your other shoe pointed at him. “I don’t want to talk about Anakin with you! I don’t want to tell you how I feel!”

“Do you want to know how I feel?” He asked calmly.

“I don’t give a shit!” You chucked the shoe at him and he batted it away easily.

“I think you do.” The gun raised up to his mask as if he were scratching his forehead with the barrel. “I think you care a lot and that’s why you won’t tell me.”

You didn’t answer, because he was right. You did care and you did care a lot. You’d been avoiding telling Anakin you loved him to spare Ghost the hurt of having to hear you say it to someone else.

“No.” You stuttered, hesitating and hating the taste of the word on your tongue.

“Don’t lie to me.” He barked, holding out the pistol and motioning for you to move. “Kneel. Now.”

“Gods, seriously? Put your arms down, you idiot.” He scoffed as he watched you lift your hands and put them behind your head like you were being arrested as you knelt down slowly.

“Well I’m sorry. I’ve never been held at gunpoint before.” You snapped, scowling up at him.

“I’m so lucky to have to honor of being your first then.” He grumbled, tucking it into the back of the waistband of his jeans while pulling the pink silk from his pocket and tossing it at you.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” His voice gruff as the toe of his shoe tapped your knee. “Put it on.”

Ghost shook his head, undoing his belt buckle, the tail end of the leather now forever imprinted with your teeth marks. You did as you were told and heard his pants unzip along with a soft grunt.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He asked, holding his flat palm out to the side to make sure you couldn’t see, rearing back to slap you.

“How should I kn-“ *smack* “ow?! What the fuck?”

“Just making sure.” He snickered, taking off his gloves and putting them in his hoodie pocket.

“Asshole.” You mumbled.

“What was that?” He asked with a playful tone. “You want me to fuck your asshole? Is that what you said?”

“Shut up. You know that’s not what I said.” You muttered, unable to keep your lip from curving upward just a fraction of a centimeter.

“Ah well, the offer still stands.” He chuckled, tapping the side of your jaw with the cold metal barrel of his pistol.

“You’re making me nervous waving it around like that.” You huffed, jerking away from it.

“Good.” He snorted, “open your mouth.”

You did exactly that, thinking you’d feel the warm weighty head of his cock hit the tip of your tongue. Hoping for a taste of the salty precum that wept from his cockhead. You weren’t expecting something small, cold, metallic and pellet shaped.

“Don’t swallow; this is the only time you’ll ever hear me say that so you better listen.” You could hear his smarmy grin. “Roll it around, you feel that?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, feeling the smooth metal and the grooves carved into it, opening your mouth again and he plucked it off the tip of your tongue.

“Your initials, or well… what your initials should be.” He mumbled the last bit.

You hear a series of mechanical and metallic noises, followed by the unmistakable sound of a firearm cocking back.

“You did not just-“

“I did.” He snickered, holding the gun sideways and pointing it directly in the center of your forehead. The blunt edge digging into your flesh and pressing down against your skull.

“Spread your fingers.”

“Why?” You asked as you splayed your hand.

“Do you have to question everything?” You felt thick metal circle your middle and ring finger, dropping to the base of each digit, barely making any contact with your skin on its descent. It really put in perspective just how much bigger than you he was.

Even more so when you felt his warm, calloused fingertips weave their way between yours and squeeze gently. The tender gesture did nothing to quench the fear sitting heavy on your chest. A loaded gun, a loaded and ready to fire gun was about an inch from your brain.

“C’mon, you don’t want to talk? Not even like this?” Condescension dripping from his lips. “Loaded gun to your head and you still won’t talk about your feelings.” He tsk’d.

“It’s not your business.”

“See that’s where you’re wrong. We’ve already had this discussion haven’t we?” He crouched down in front of you, air rushing past from the quick motion. “It is my business. You were mine first.”

The curved edge of the barrel traveled down your forehead, across your cheek and rested heavily on your bottom lip.

“Give it a kiss for good luck little doe.” Ghost spoke low and steady, almost monotone. Considering your situation you did as you were told once again.

“Good girl.” He stood back up and pushed the waistband of his boxers down by hooking his thumb beneath the elastic. “Now get to work, bitch.”

His tone had changed again, now a sharp and hard edge that smacked you like a cold wind. Emotional whiplash was to be expected in every encounter you had with Ghost, but none so far was as bruising as this.

He’d never brought a gun to a knife fight before.

You hesitated for a moment longer than he was willing to wait, so he dropped your hand, the small bit of comfort he’d allowed you to have. Grabbing the back of your head and forcing his swollen cockhead past your lips, cool metal returning to the center of your forehead.

You gagged and spluttered around his length, the hot and leaky cockhead bruising the back of your throat. Ghost seemed to love the sound, loved feeling you cough and try to gasp for air, his hand tightened in your hair as he let out a loud and gravely moan.

“You suck cock so much better with your life on the line.” He laughed, pulling you away from him and releasing your hair. He watched you cough and wipe drool off your chin and neck with the back of your hand.

“Ready to talk?” He asked, his breathing heavy and uneven.

“Fuck you.” Spitting the words out with venom.

“Sorry sweetheart that’s not on the agenda tonight.” You felt the rush of air before his palm made contact with your cheek, your hand immediately lifting to cradle it and feel the heat radiating from the irritated flesh.

“C’mon doe, I don’t have to be mean about this.” He barked, “Just use your big girl words.”

“L-Luke’s gonna be back up here any minute.” You stuttered, lifting your head in the general vicinity of where his would be.

“You realize you’re only making this more difficult for yourself right?” He asked, not giving you the opportunity to answer when he fisted your hair and forced your lips to meet the tip of the barrel of his pistol.

*shk* *click* **click** nothing.

Before you had time to process the fact that he had just pulled the trigger of a loaded gun in your mouth, you were being choked and not given any hope for breathing. His forefinger and thumb tightly clamped over your nose and his cock lodged in your throat as he fucked your face. Instinctively you tried to draw in a breath, accidentally breathing in saliva, making you cough so hard that Ghost had no choice but to back off.

“Ghost...” You dry heaved on your hands and knees. “I’m n-not gonna tell you.”

“What’s it gonna take huh?” He asked angrily, you could hear the sound of clothes rustling just before he lifted you up and shoved you over toward the bed. “What’s it gonna take for you to admit that you love me?”

“I don’t!” You yelled, taking off the blindfold and tossing it aside.

“I didn’t say you could take that off.” He snapped at you while pulling his gloves on, snatching the ring off your middle finger and shoving it down in his pocket. He whipped his head around toward the door suddenly.

“Shit.” He shoved the gun in the back of his waist band and grabbed his bag without explanation.

“What?” You asked sitting up on the bed.

“Gotta go.” He grumbled.

He grabbed the blindfold and slipped it back over your head, grabbing your jaw and tilting your head back, his lips met yours in a soft embrace. His tongue piercing gliding across the slit between your lips before pushing past them slowly, the taste of cigarettes and gum flooded your senses. He hadn’t tasted like this last time he kissed you.

He took one of your wrists in a gentle grip and brought it to his cheek. Ghost kept a loose grip on your wrist but he allowed you to feel the smooth skin beneath his eyes, your fingertips collecting the smallest amount of moisture in the outer corner of his eye.

He was crying.

He broke the kiss, your lips begging to stay connected to his. As much as you hated to admit it to yourself that kiss felt like home. The fact that he was shedding tears was unsettling, the car crash that was this relationship had officially gone beyond whiplash and into ‘trapped inside, in need of the jaws of life’ territory.

He took the same hand and pressed it to the center of his chest and left it there to put both his gloved hands on either side of your face, pressing his lips to your forehead. Their warmth left your skin and you immediately wanted it back.

He took the blindfold back off and smoothed out your hair quickly, putting the silk in his pocket and putting up his hood. The mask back where it belonged, those black pits where his eyes should be held an emotion that was pouring from every inch of his being. You felt like he was staring through you and straight into your soul. He stood beside the window with his bag slung over his shoulder. Who knew such strong emotion could be felt… seen, without ever laying eyes on the person emitting those feelings.

“Lock your window back.” He nodded toward you and promptly climbed out just as you heard the front door opening, he was gone before you even had a chance to get a second look as he ran off.

You did as he asked and locked the window before checking your appearance in the mirror, a mess was reflected back at you. You looked as if you’d been lost at sea. Tangled hair and ashen skin covered in streaked makeup. The churning in your stomach only rocked the proverbial boat more.

After a deep breath you brushed your hair and pulled the makeup wipes from your bag to clean up with.

“Hey!” You heard a sharp knock on the bedroom door and answered it while still wiping away at your face.

“What’s up?” You asked your sister as she pushed past you.

“Just checking on you before I went to bed, Lukey and I were out there for longer than we meant to be.” She shrugged on her way to jump on the bed, “Ow! Fuck.” She winced and picked up her bare foot, rubbing the sole with her thumb as she picked up the offending item.

“Who’s ring?” She asked, holding it up for you to see.

“Oh it’s just Anakin’s!” You lied, laughing anxiously and plucked it from her fingers, encasing it in your own hand. “Probably just fell out of my bag.”

“He has such a weird taste in jewelry. What even is that?” She pointed to your closed fist, and watched as you peeled back your fingers and exposed your palm.

It wasn’t a lie, it was Anakin’s.

“A centipede.” You swallowed, staring at the hunk of metal. “It- he always wears this one. I don’t… I’m not sure how it ended up in my bag.”

Your throat felt dry, your palms started to sweat. You felt like you might be sick. Why did he have Anakin’s ring? He hardly ever takes it off.

Diary Entry: September 3rd

I should have never taken those fucking rings off. I had to lie to you. It’s stupid I know but lying about something little like that is almost worse than the big secret you know? Cause I don’t want you to think I’m untrustworthy, I am. I’m very trustworthy.

You just let me shoot what you thought was a loaded gun in your mouth. I’d say that means you trust me quite a bit. Ghost, not me I mean. You trust Ghost with your life, but you can’t trust Anakin enough to tell him you love him?

Date

September 3rd (1:45 am)

Anakin jogged to the end of the driveway and hopped into the front seat of his car, taking off his mask and gloves. With the steering wheel in both hands he leaned forward to rest his forehead on the back of his hands. Keeping his grip at the top of the wheel with one hand he leaned back again, looking up at the roof of his car, his other hand going to pinch the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone started ringing, he quieted himself and quickly strategized a set of half truths and full lies that he might need to use before answering the phone.

“Hey princess.” He sounded cheery as he picked up the phone, “lucky you, I was just going out to smoke.”

“Oh?” You asked, feeling relieved to hear that he sounded fine. Maybe ghost didn’t chop off his finger after all. “Sorry, I- I have a weird question.”

“I love weird questions.” He snorted, you could hear him flip open his zippo lighter and snap it shut after a long inhale.

“Are you missing any rings?” You asked, hoping he said no and that this was just a very odd coincidence.

You heard rustling on the other end of the line while Anakin frantically searched his pockets, coming up one ring short.

“Yeah I am actually, why?” He answered clearing his throat nervously.

“Which one?”

“My many legged lad.” He answered, instinctively flicking his cigarette ash with anxiety, the miniature embers floating down to his jeans. He quickly swiped them away and tried to remain focused. “I took it off to shower at your place last night.”

“I figured the cat knocked it off the sink or something.” He shrugged to himself, hoping it was enough of a lie to convince you that maybe Ghost snatched it off the sink.

“S-somehow it ended up in um, my bag I guess.” You said, turning the jewelry over in your palm, placing it on the nightstand beside the bed.

“Huh, well that’s fucking weird.” He chuckled, “I don’t know, babe. Just keep it safe for me til you get back I guess sweetheart.”

“I will, I’ve got it on the nightstand right now.” You answered, licking your bottom lip.

“Thanks babydoll, listen, I gotta go back inside.” He grumbled, sucking air through his teeth the way he always did on his last drag of his cigarette. “I love you doll. Sleep good.”

“Night Ani, text me when you’re home.”

“You got it baby." Anakin answered, his voice low and smooth.

A perfectly normal conversation. A perfectly normal explanation on his part. A completely plausible assumption that Ghost simply took it from Anakin. Though you’d never known him to be brazen enough to come around with Anakin there and awake.

A perfectly dreadful whisper floated in one ear and out the other.

—————-

Date

September 3rd (2:27 am)

Anakin walked circles around his car, desperate to find an escape, an excuse, an explanation. Something, anything to help him backtrack. He couldn’t go back to your cabin tonight. He’d made you lock the windows and he knew Luke would quadruple check that the front door was locked. He didn’t know your sister or Luke’s sleep habits so he didn’t feel comfortable picking the lock.

He would have to tough it out until tomorrow night.

You were very much in the same boat as him. Waiting anxiously to see if he would come back, to see what would happen.

You wanted to call Anakin again, just to hear his voice, to listen to the calming comfort of it. To affirm that all was well, he was safe and fine. That was the only reason. You just wanted to make sure he was safe. Anakin was perfectly capable of handling himself, but to your knowledge he didn’t own any weapons that he could defend himself with. As far as you knew, Anakin Skywalker was sweet and kind and soft. He was loving and gentle. He was the perfect man, the most wonderful thing to walk into your life.

Anakin loves you and you love him. You love him so much, so much that it hurts. You love him so much that you’ve refused to say it. To protect him, to protect yourself, to protect Ghost from the hurt of it.

That’s just it though, there is Ghost. He’s there at every corner, he’s the creak in the floor boards at night, he’s the figure you see in the corner of your eye, he’s the creepy feeling of being watched, the voice you swear you hear saying your name.

He cares for you, and he cares deeply. You know without having to hear it from him that he believes you’ve hung the sun and the moon, he knows all the stars in the galaxy twinkle just for you and he believes you should be treated as such.

For all his wrong doings he’s done something right, not the helpful little things nor the occasional softness he’s begun to show.

No it’s something else.

It’s a feeling so oddly tangible that you can feel it in your throat each time you swallow. There isn’t a name for it, no term that you’ve ever heard could properly define it. You know that much to be true.

It’s a pull, a strong and undeniable tether. Like a child and their security blanket. Visible or not, where there is one there is always the other.

You’d miss him if he were gone, much like you’d miss the comfort of a fresh from the dryer blanket. The fuzzy warmth that wraps you up so tightly, the feeling of being tucked away from the world in safety.

That heat fades quickly, just like he does. He’s present one moment and the next he’s left you alone and you have to start the cycle all over again. You stare at your reflection and watch the world tumble around you and he watches you from behind the glass until he’s ready to come out again.

You want to fold him up and lay him across the end of your bed. Within reach at all times, you don’t want the dryer door between you anymore. You don’t want the few moments of heat from the fabric.

You want consistency.

Anakin can give you consistency in a way that no one else ever has. You never have to worry about him leaving or being disloyal, you never have to voice your feelings or opinions if you don’t want to because he just knows. You never have to worry about anything. Except for Ghost.

With Ghost you know that you are without a doubt the safest person alive. You don’t have to think, you can just be and know he is there to do anything and everything for you. You never have to worry about anything. Except for Anakin.

————-

Date

September 3rd

Hiking had never been your favorite summertime activity, but you’d come to realize it wasn’t because of all the walking or the bugs, it wasn’t even because of the horrid, atrocious memory of the time you’d walked through poison ivy.

You didn’t like it because it gave you too much time to think. That was exactly the opposite of what you needed right now. Right now you needed nothing, you needed the cold emptiness that comes along with burying yourself in something that took up all your brain power until there was none left to dwell on your troubles.

By the time you’d reached your destination you were drenched with sweat in the most uncomfortable way imaginable. Your shirt stuck to you, the cups of your bra were damp and itchy, your shorts had ridden up and you weren’t entirely sure that you were wearing shoes instead of walking barefoot in a bog.

“Luke.” You grumbled, taking a long drink from your water bottle. “How long have we been out here?”

“About two hours.” He replied casually, not nearly as winded as you and your sister. “Let’s eat and we’ll head back.”

“Are we lucky enough to be on one of those trails that the start is long but the loop around is short?” Your sister asked, wiping her forehead with the inside of the collar of her shirt.

“You’re both wimps,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes, passing out sandwiches and chips. “No, the way back is the way we came.”

“You’re joking.” You complained with a scrunched up expression.

“No ma’am.” Luke responded and thumbed over his shoulder at the overlook you’d made the journey to see. Yes it was beautiful, but worth the blister forming on the back of your ankle? Definitely not.

“Unless you’d like to take a dip off the cliff edge.” He snickered, knowing damn well that you’d rather gnaw off your fingers than jump from this height. “It’d be a couple minutes swim to shore and you’d be at the cabin.”

“No way really?” You said, standing up and biting into your sandwich as you walked cautiously closer to the edge. Gazing down you saw the dock, your eyes traveling up the tiny- hardly visible- dirt path until you reached the cabin.

He was right, you tracked your hiking trail up the curve of the incline you’d suffered through, it was a massive arc. Leaving you staring at the comfort of the cabin, so close but impossibly far away. You looked for a moment more, the lake sparkling like glitter in the bright sunshine. A few boats disrupting the water as they sped past, far off the shore.

You snapped a few pictures and scrolled through them, nearly choking on your food as you spotted something you’d missed with your naked eye. Only seeing it now that you were scrutinizing the photos quality to decide which one you’d keep.

“Jesus, you alright?” Lauren asked, watching you thump the side of your fist against your chest. Breathing heavily through your nose while chewing the food to swallow it and chase it down with a gulp of water.

“M’fine.” You coughed, looking back down at your phone and then to the landscape below to see if he was still there.

You should’ve expected to find him, expected the way he made himself at home on the porch, rocking in a rocking chair. The scene was still jarring, even more so when you realized he wasn’t wearing his hoodie.

His bare arms on display, his chest and abdomen covering by a loose black tank top. You frantically tried to zoom in with your camera. But of course all you could see was a fuzzy blur of inked skin.

What luck.

He was there, in broad daylight without a staple piece of his ensemble, one he didn’t remove in front of you. Now you understood why he told you he’d be recognizable if you were to see his skin. He was covered in tattoos.

And it’s your unfortunate luck that despite being so close to him, it’d take an hour to get there. Your great luck that he’d left himself vulnerable to your gaze at a distance that would prove impossible to decipher his identity. He was doing this purposely, there was no doubt about it. Why else would he do something so risky?

Ghost was baiting you.

Like the stupid little fish you were, you nibbled on the hook until he was able to reel you in.

‘I see you’ You texted him,

‘Creep.’ He texted back, standing up from his rocking chair and walking to the front porch steps. He waved dramatically, the sun shining down on him and catching on the white plastic of his mask, making him plainly visible. You watched through the zoomed in and grainy image of your phone as he moved, hoping maybe it would clear up and you could see something identifying.

Suddenly you were reminded of something you’d learned in school, a book you’d read… maybe Nancy Drew? Signaling using a mirror or something reflective to catch a person’s attention, sometimes used as a means of communication in Morse code. Though this wasn’t nearly as sophisticated.

He had pulled out both his knives and flipped them, the sunlight refracting off the shiny silver blades erratically until it became one concentrated beam as he crossed the sharp edges over each other. Forming an X to direct to light straight at your face, promptly blinding you.

“Fuck.” You winced, stumbling backwards and causing your sister to gasp.

“Christ, what the hell are you doing?” She asked worriedly, standing up and walking toward you but not daring to move as close to the cliffs edge as you were.

“A- a bug or something.” You lied, rubbing your eyes to clear up the imprinted flash of light you saw each time you let your eyelids fall shut.

*ping*

‘See me now?’

‘Asshole.’ You mumbled under breath, looking back over the cliffs edge to see that he’d managed to get out of sight in the time it took for you to recover.

“Alright, let’s go back. I’m hot and sweaty.” Luke said, standing up and stretching. He packed away our trash and then shoved Lauren forward when she complained.

“I’ll push you off the edge if you don’t shut up and leave me be.” He snorted, dodging her water bottle that she swung by the handle at him.

“C’mon let’s go before you kill each other.” You said with a laugh, feeling better now that Ghost was -probably- gone for now.

After another hour of hiking back down the steep incline you’d just traveled up, you were grateful to collapse on the cold wood floor of the living room and bask in the cool air supplied by the window unit nearby.

——————————————————————————

Diary Entry: September 3rd

I’m so jittery waiting around for you guys to get the hell out of that stupid cabin. I have shit to do and you’re gumming up the works. I need to get your bathing suits, I scouted out around the lake last night when I couldn’t sleep. Not in my Ghost mask, I used a bandana. I think it’d be real unfortunate to get the cops called because Ghostface is roaming the pine woods.

Anyway, your bathing suits. I’m taking the ones I disapprove of. Did you know there’s a cabin full of jockey college boys right across the lake from you? You better not have planned that. They have a perfect view of the dock you’ll be swimming off of. Which means they were probably watching you last night when you were having your drinks.

I’m the only one who can watch you like that. Especially when you’re gonna be prancing around with that fucking ass of yours on display. ‘Ani, I’m just gonna wear it to tan in!’ Yeah alright. That’s the only reason doll? That’s the reason you brought a thong bikini to the lake? With a cabin full of testosterone waiting to catch a whiff of you from across the way?

I can’t believe you’re so stupid sometimes. I love you but damn do you have no self awareness? I’d let you wear it when I’m around. But I’m not. Not the way I want to be at least. I want to be there fucking you with my eyes and smacking your cute ass every chance I get. If I’m not standing there watching over you then those idiots might get the idea you’re wearing that shit for them and not me.

They don’t know you’re tanning, making that bangin’ fucking body sun kissed for my viewing pleasure when you return. They just see ass and tits and drool. I might drool yeah… but it’s only for you. I love you. I have eyes only for you and I always will.

Those dick-wads don’t know you or care about you. They lust over every bitch they see. You don’t want to make it easier for them do you? No? That’s what I thought. I know you didn’t do it purposely little doe. You can’t help it. You’re used to me being by your side and keeping you safe, used to wearing whatever you want when I’m around because you know I’ll fuck shit up if someone looks at you wrong. You’ve gotten used to it and didn’t use your little girl brain to make adjustments for the fact that Anakin wouldn’t be there for you.

Just another reason you should’ve brought me along.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Oh my fucking god it’s so fucking hot outside. What the hell is wrong with Luke? Making you walk up that MOUNTAIN. I totally would’ve followed but I’m actually busy trying not to fucking drown in my own sweat. There’s a bunch of reasons Ghost is mostly nocturnal. This is one of them.

I was being baked alive.

Anywho, I showered and now I smell like you, so I’m gonna wander about, have a wee little snack. By the way, I’m really sad you forgot the mustard.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Baby, don’t be mad I didn’t mean to almost make you trip. I just thought it would be a little funny. I was right. But I’m still kind of sorry.

I wish I could’ve seen your face.

‘Oh my god! His shoulders are out!’ Scandalous.

Risky? Yes. Worth it. Yes, can’t wait to hear you whine about it when I fuck you again.

——————-

Date

September 3rd

“Okay, let’s get ready for the lake.” Luke stood up and clapped his hands together once, a loud *pop* resounding through the living room.

“Already on it.” You huffed, throwing yourself forward into a sitting position and hopping to your feet.

You entered your room and noticed two things immediately: 1) the ring is gone 2) your red one piece swimsuit is on the bed. Upon further investigation you discovered a note laying on top of it.

Written in quick scratch was a short note from Ghost.

‘Doe,

I’ve taken the liberty of making adjustments to your wardrobe.‘

‘Adjustments?’ You thought, grabbing your bag and dumping it out on the bed.

The only things missing were your other bathing suits and your shower stuff, quickly grabbing the red suit you rushed to the bathroom and locked yourself in to change. Pushing back the shower curtain you saw your body wash and shampoo, the walls still wet from his shower. You couldn’t help but let out an annoyed huff.

Your phone vibrated on the side of the small bathroom sink, sliding across the porcelain and falling into the sink basin. You quickly fixed the straps of your bathing suit and retrieved your phone before the leaky tap could wet the screen.

A video message awaited you from ghost, the image from the thumbnail made you laugh in a choked kind of surprise. He was outside giving you a leather thumbs up, your hot pink string bikini on overtop of his black hoodie. As you pressed play the video was mostly silent other than the nature noises of the background until he flipped the camera around and zoomed in.

A low modified whistle left his lips as his camera focused on the bathroom window, your bare back in the frame for a moment before he shifted the camera slightly to get the mirror in front of you, showcasing your breasts as you changed into your swimsuit.

You swiftly spun around going to the window to scan the area, he couldn’t have possibly gotten too far away. Throwing open the window you stuck your head out and looked to the left and then to the right where Ghost had suddenly appeared, inches from your face.

“Ow! Fuck, agh-“ You yelped, whacking your head on the window pane while he laughed at your expense.

“Hey! You okay?” Luke banged yelled from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Y-yeah!” You shouted back, turning to look inside the bathroom again before turning back around to see Ghost had crouched down, out of view if you were to open the bathroom door.

“What are you doing? You’re takin’ ages.”

“Uh- sorry. Wardrobe difficulties.” You squeaked out, glancing back at ghost who was still wearing your hot bikini bikini top, sans bottoms… which was honestly a bit disappointing. You heard Luke walk off, yelling to your sister that you were probably ‘on the throne’.

“Who is he? The Queen?” Ghost’s mechanical voice came from beneath the mask.

“Close enough.” You shrugged your shoulders and watched as he stood up to his full height, his knees cracking upon the ascent.

“Why did you take my shit Ghost? I wanted to wear that!” Whisper shouting at him while you hung the upper half of your body out the window.

“That’s why I took it.” He said plainly. “I don’t want you looking like a fucking slut out there without me around to keep other eyes off you.”

“Who the hell is gonna see me out here!? You shouldn’t have even seen me out here!” You pointed angrily.

“Shut up, I know you’re happy I’m here.” He snarled, getting right in your face, reaching up to grab your chin. “I heard you last night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You scoffed as if you hadn’t done exactly what he was insinuating.

“I don’t want the girl who moans for me to be ogled at by some fucking frat guys.” He barked, shaking your chin and digging in his leather fingers.

You turned bright pink. You couldn’t argue with his statement. You did moan for him. Under him, over him, even without him.

“What frat guys?” You stuttered, avoiding acknowledgement to the first half of his sentence.

“Across the lake.” He pointed, flicking out his knife to gesture in their direction. “Big group of ‘em. Paid them a visit last night just to check things out, you know I worry about you.” He said in a quieter tone, bringing the blade of his knife to your bottom lip and tapping it with the flat side.

“I would’ve never known they were there if you hadn’t told me.” You narrowed your eyes, speaking carefully as the knife rested against your lip.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Or maybe not.”

“What’s that supposed- shit, why?” You flinched and brought your hand to your mouth touching the nick he’d left when he quickly jerked the knife away.

“So you’ll think of me when you’re yapping to some no-count bitch boy from across the way.” He snapped back. His leathered thumb came up to spread the blood across your bottom lip and past it onto your tongue.

“It’s just a bonus that you bleed so fucking pretty.” He pushed your tongue down with his thumb, rubbing the crimson liquid into the squishy muscle, then curling the same thumb behind your bottom row of teeth and shifting his cock in his jeans with his free hand.

“Clean it for me baby?” His modified voice lower than usual.

“No, use your mouth doe.” He chuckled when you reached out to grab the knife from him to rinse in the sink.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows but opened your mouth anyway. He placed the blade on your tongue and nodded at you.

“Now suck it.” He grumbled, affectionately patting your cheek twice before using two fingers to push up your chin and close your mouth around the cool steel.

————————————————————————

“What happened?” You sister asked, touching the scabbed line that traveled up your ass cheek and disappeared beneath your swimsuit.

“Well, I just fell.” You muttered, pulling the hem line to cover more of it. “Don’t really know what cut me but it happened a little bit ago.”

“You need to be more careful.” She shook her head, finishing up her job of rubbing in your sun tan lotion. “I swear you’re worse than my toddler.”

“Oh shut up, I am not.” You scoffed, “there’s a difference between something you don’t have any control over and choosing to shove a pebble up your nose.”

“I- that was only one time! When will you let that go?” She asked grumpily. “What am I supposed to do, carry around a fucking periscope so I can see behind me?”

“I’m not- I was kidding.” You sighed, shoving her out in front of you, making her stumble.

You clicked the lotion shut and shook it up, slamming it down on the heel of your hand before putting a generous amount in your palm. You slapped it onto her back and rubbed it in, ignoring the hissing sound she made when the wet glob of sunscreen in your palm smacked her flesh and splattered messily across her skin.

“Caleb is just… an explorer.” Lauren said, trying to make it sound better than it was.

“I never shoved anything up my nose.” Luke chimed in from behind his sunglasses, sitting up against one of the dock posts. “Lauren, you know I was an ‘explorer’.”

“No. You were a bug boy.” You snorted, looking over at him with a little smirk.

“So what? I liked… like bugs. They’re cool okay?” He grumbled waving them off.

“Remember when you had Ants on a Log with actual ants?” You giggled, Lauren crouching down as she let out a guffaw.

“I was seven!” He said defensively, crossing his arms.

“Caleb is two. He can shove a pebble up his nose and it can be excused.” Lauren snorted, catching her breath. “You were seven, you knew better. You have no room to talk.”

“Okay mom,” Luke huffed, you knew without a doubt that he was rolling his eyes behind those glasses. “At least I don’t still pick my nose.”

“Hey! Sometimes you just gotta get up in there.” Lauren pointed at him, a scowl on her face. “Don’t lie, you pick your nose. Everybody does!”

“Uh… I mean I technically pick my nose. Just with a tissue.” You said, supporting your sister in your useless argument.

“So you’re both gross then.” Luke gagged and grabbed his stomach dramatically.

“If I’m gross, so are you.” You said, getting settled on your towel. “Lauren’s right. Everyone picks their nose.”

“You’re both horrible.” He grumbled, shaking his head before standing up and lowering himself into an inner-tube so that he could float on the water.

You all had a peaceful first half of your day, it was refreshing after the hike to relax in the sunshine, letting the heat lull you into a state of calm and the opportunity to think of nothing save for the concentration of singling out different nature noises just because you could. Cicadas, the occasional grunt of a bullfrog, Whippoorwills calling out to each other in the trees, the gentling lapping of the lake against the dock.

None of the city sounds that clouded your head and made it feel cluttered.

It was cleansing, a nice reset for your mental state. Exactly what you needed, exactly what you were so happy to be here for. Now if only you could get some clarity on the difficulty you’d return to after your weekend of being at ease.

Even in peace times nothing is perfect.

The gentleness of the world you’d drifted into was being infiltrated. The distant sounds of a boat zipping through the water at much higher speed that it should’ve, especially with the water skier attached to the towline. What could make it worse? Two jet skis flanked the boat at a good distance away, though it was clear they were all in one group. Shouting and laughing like drunken fools, which you were sure they were considering the way they were behaving.

You licked your bottom lip, reminded of the small nick Ghost had left you with. These must be the ‘no-count bitch boys’ he was referring to earlier. You had to admit, he was definitely right about that. Wrong about your willingness to speak with them though.

You huffed and stood up, deciding now would be a good time to take a refreshing break in the water. The liquid enveloped your skin, the heat of the sun having beat down on you had your flesh soaking up the warmth so much that the water felt cold. In involuntary shiver tickled your spine as you swam over to Luke where he’d floated a way from the dock.

Slowly but surely the boat along with its entourage weaved its way across the water to your side of the lake, you pushed Luke’s inner-tube back toward the dock to give -them- yourself some space.

“Thanks babe.” Luke said, dipping his hand into the water and flicking it at your face.

“Hey! I was trying to be nice!” You scowled, reflexively sliding your hands beneath the tube to dump Luke out of it.

“I could’ve drowned!” He gasped as he resurfaced, taking off his sunglasses so he could wipe the water from his face and shake out his hair.

“Oh whatever, don’t be whiny.” You grinned.

“Me? You’re telling me not to whine?” Luke tossed his glasses up onto the dock and made his way toward you quickly. “All I did was flick you with water and you tried to drown me!”

“I did not!” Squealing as he lifted you up and tossed you farther into the water. How such a scrawny little guy could do such a thing was beyond you, but you had no time to contemplate.

You only had time for revenge. Squinting beneath the murky waters you made your way to Luke, hearing him call out your name in garbled syllables.

Ever since you’d known Luke, he’s had an irrational fear of the tiny possibility that there may be an alligator in any body of water. Didn’t matter how far from the wetlands of the states you were. There was always a slim chance, to him at least.

Holiday Inn pool? ‘But it’s outside, it could’ve crawled in! Will you just check it?’

Tiny dollar-store-bought blow up pool in your backyard? ‘But the creek! The creek’s back there… I’m not going in till you do.’

It got to the point that it was so severe his dad had to come up with a ‘gator gauge’ which was really just a hand-held tennis ball launcher he’d spray painted green and put a ‘gator free’ sticker on the back of so he could prove it was safe. Top-notch, high security, military grade ‘gator gauge’ that doubled as the lazy way to play fetch with their dog.

It was mean. Maybe a bit cruel… but he deserved it. So you swam behind him and put the heels of your palms together, spreading your fingers and creating jaws. You’d disappear from sight for long enough that a hypothetical alligator could’ve dragged you off and you heard Luke call out for you again.

Your lungs started to burn and you knew it was time to enact your plan. Luke stood on his tiptoes in the water, the perfect opportunity to press your fingers and nails into the muscle of his flexed calf. He screamed and thrashed about, you let him go and backed up so you could resurface. You popped up and sucked in a deep breath that turned into a choked laughing fit.

“You little bitch!” He yelled, splashing as he swam at you, pushing you under the water by your shoulders. He quickly pulled you back up and shoved your shoulder. A pink tint to his cheeks from embarrassment, he huffed and splashed a wave of water at you.

“I could’ve drowned!” You mocked him, pretending to cough.

In your short time of distraction the boat and its occupants had cut the engine and let the momentum carry them closer. The jet skis now tethered to the back, the ladder down in the water. Despite the safer option a group of five guys jumped over the side and made themselves at home in your space.

“Hey! How are you ladies?” One of them asked, completely ignoring that Luke was right there with you.

“No soliciting, thanks.” Your sister popped her head up and shook her left hand to show off her wedding ring.

“Whoa, didn’t mean anything like that!” He laughed and his friends agreed. “Just wanted to say hello, see if you guys were up for a drink.”

“I think we’re just fine.” Luke spoke up from behind you.

“I wasn’t asking you.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Sighing you turned around and swam until you were able to touch the lake bottom, walking the rest of the way to the shore.

“Hope you’re going to get some mixers.” A different guy shouted.

“Going to get a restraining order if you don’t leave.” You shot back over your shoulder, earning a round of laughs from them, the opposite of what you’d hoped for.

“C’mon. Don’t be like that! Just give us a chance. We’re good people.”

“Good at ruining my day.” Luke mumbled, following behind me and scooping up his stuff and getting ready to leave.

“You’re going? Serious?” One of them laughed.

“You came over here uninvited, you’re not entitled to our company.” You said, turning around and walking toward the house.

“That may be true but you’ve certainly made up for it by jiggling that ass.” His friends snickered and one smacked his arm.

You reminded yourself that you were here to have fun. Not to argue with a man who has half the brain capacity of a drunk squirrel.

Deciding you couldn’t let them win, you figured you’d beat them in your own way. You continued on without another word, pretending you hadn’t heard them, instead pulling out your phone and sending a simple text message.

‘You were right.’

The answer was an immediate: ‘I know.’

Diary entry: September 3rd

I hate to say I told you so. But I will.

I. Told. You. So.

I was having a great time watching you, it was reminiscent of how I used to watch you have dinner and I’d eat with you. You’re so cute and playful… I love you so much. I know that Luke is super gay, that’s not why I’m jealous. I’m not worried about that. I’m not stupid and I’m not paranoid, I know better. I’m jealous because it should’ve been me that you were playing around with.

I’m jealous cause you didn’t invite me. I’m jealous that you got to swim and I’m sitting in a tree, soaking my shirt with sweat. I’m jealous that Luke had a beer. I’m jealous that your sister took a nap. I’m jealous that those shit-for-brains tried to talk to you. (I love your sisters fucking comeback though.)

I’m jealous that they got a better look at your sweet little ass than I did too.

I’m pleased that you were so off-put by their behavior that you texted me little doe. What a very good girl you can be, but, oh so good at being bad too. You’re just like me. Maybe I’m making it worse, maybe better. I don’t know, I don’t really care either.

I’m just excited.

My little doe is feeding that flame of deviancy hanging out deep within your stomach. I knew you had it in there somewhere, gods you’re just so fucking perfect. I’ve never felt more lucky. ‘Ghost, I’ve got one more day here. What if they come back?’

What if indeed.

Men can be unpredictable. A woman is safer in a pit of snakes that being alone with a man she doesn’t know. Which is why I try so desperately to protect you especially in situations like this. That delivery guy? He seemed harmless. But I dug a bit deeper and well, he wasn’t so harmless after all.

Now, these boys might be disgusting pigs who prefer to wallow in the squalor and bask in the glory of their custom made beer can wall. They don’t deserve anything too harsh. Also; Wow. It’s amazing how they’ve managed to drink that much and none of them have been hospitalized for alcohol poisoning. But back to business, I personally don’t feel like killing anyone. I know for a fact you don’t. I also know that even if I did feel like it, I couldn’t because you’d definitely know it was me. Then what the hell would I do?

You had no good ideas. Which is not your fault, you just can’t think about these things on your own. You need guidance and that’s what I’m here for. So, I settled on something you’ve never done, I haven’t done in a long time, and it’s not technically illegal here… just heavily frowned upon. I hate their shit attitudes, they’re gross and they’ve disrespected you and that’s unacceptable. So a nice little bit of property ‘destruction’ is in order. Middle school memories, how sweet.

TP the cabin? Absolutely. Destroy their beer can wall? Definitely. Silly string their vehicles? Duh.

Fuck you before and after? Yes. Always.

Part Fifteen

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Thanks to @rottencandyblood and all their love❤️

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

[what-thisiscrazzzy]

Some thoughts from my second watch of ‘The Case of The Devlin House’

Sorry if this long and obvious I just need to say stuff

- Charles mentions liking the song playing in the house, noting that he played it a lot before his dad smashed it with a hammer. 1) this is the first thing about the house which strikes a personal chord between Charles and the Devlins 2) this likely puts Charles’ dad in his mind causing his emotional reaction to be more intense later? 3) it’s an example of his father being controlling. Later we hear that one of the girls in the house found her father extremely controlling. Charles talks about never being able to make him happy. This is an example of this behaviour, specifically something Charles finds joy in upsetting his father and causing a violent outburst 3) possibly a first clue to his fear of being just like his dad? It’s a link between a violent man and Charles during a case about child abuse, emotions can be very messy making links that aren’t 100% logical. I think the mention of the song just feels intentional as any other aspect of the case could link to Charles but his love of music is very specific.

- Edwin doesn’t have a notable reaction to the violence. Truthfully I was mostly watching Charles and the camera work does as well. However, Edwin notably doesn’t flinch as much as anyone else during the murders, he does react but not the same degree as far as I could tell. When Edwin and Crystal share a frame during the suicide she has a larger reaction. Additionally, he doesn’t freak out as much/like everyone else, staying mostly level headed. This is likely due to his time in hell, the horror is disturbing but doesn’t shock him to the same degree. Edwin has experience and witnessed violence for decades so while Charles is triggered and Crystal is very empathetic he remains more composed.

- Edwin only freaks out when Charles is in trouble. This adds onto what I’ve just mentioned but Edwin is more composed until Charles is caught in the loop. The loop troubles him but he only really reacts with the same level as dramatics once Charles is in trouble. Again I think his time in hell made him not less empathetic but more capable of repressing horror or dealing with it. But losing Charles is not something he is accustomed to and cannot keep his composure about.

- Crystal being incredibly empathetic. Thought of this after but Edwin’s line about her being not what she did but what she does or whatever it was perfectly encapsulates what this episode says about Crystal. I think it was easy to get caught up in the Charles of it all but this episode really shows how caring and empathetic she is. Crystal notes when Charles is seriously affected. She herself is incredibly upset during the murders and try’s to leave after the first loop. She’s very upset to find out how she used to act. That last example is interesting bc she is shown who she was and is disgusted, this is in an episode where she is helping others. We are really shown that at her core Crystal is a good and caring person, as this is a rewatch I can say that this really sets up that it was circumstances that made her so cold and callous pre-David. Without the feelings such as abandonment by her parents she really acts with a big heart, clearly upset by suffering around her. I don’t have much more to say but yeah the episode does a good job at really contrasting the before and after of Crystal and showing her true character.

- someone else pointed this out before i rewatched but: Charles’ loop starts with his snapping at Edwin. While the entire experience appears specifically triggering for Charles and his intense reaction is there from the beginning he only becomes trapped after snapping at Edwin. More specifically after facing multiple triggering situations and then snapping at Edwin. He hears a song that he relates to a bad memory of his dad, witnesses the abuse of powerless children, reads a diary of said abused child which he relates to heavily and the the events of his being trapped in the loop happen.

I think this relates back to what I was saying about the song. Multiple confusing emotions related to his trauma are brought up. A song both he and the murder liked is playing as he snaps at his best friend. Lots of feelings there.

His fear over his mother and his fear and hurt during his own abuse are brought up. And then he snaps at his best friend, try’s a violent solution and then is attacked. I think his fear over being just like his dad is brought up and then the Devlin father’s violence was reminiscent of the violence he faced previously. The feeling of helplessness as he couldn’t fight back and the fear of himself. It’s something he can’t stop and he’s powerless to help, while also bringing out a part of himself he hates.

Charles has a strong sense of justice and the events of the Devlin house is extremely unjust so he is extremely upset and frustrated at what is occurring.

Charles plays at being so happy all the time because although he calls himself the Brawn, he’s the protector, we can see later on that his own violent capabilities scare him.

We, the audience, and his friends know hes not a violent person and would only react so in self defence but Charles greatest fear is that he’s not a Good Guy.

The Devlin house triggers all the issues he carries after the abuse he suffered including his fear of himself. He sees himself in the victims but a small part of him is scared he’s also like the perpetrator.

There’s so much here and that why I love Charles bc he’s got so much going on in his head hidden behind a smile

This was only meant to be short but I kept rambling on. So basically the song, Edwin, Edwin freaking out over Charles, Charles being emotionally complex bc he cares so much and is so hurt.