#let us just not talk about what will happen in different beasts

[fictioninmyblood]

Back to Bed Pt. 2

Summary: Terry and Y/N had been married for just over 7 years with 3 beautiful children and a blooming self defense business they’d built together to show for it. Having started their relationship at the beginning of Y/N’s journey into discovering her submissiveness and Terry’s first stationing as an instructor - Terry had been her only dom and thus knew her like the back of his hand and Y/N has been the only sub to experience the harshest version of his dom giving her the same privilege over him. Having been pregnant with their baby girl upon coming home to the Sandy Springs situation, Terry has been using it as an excuse, too afraid to lean all the way into his dom personality the way he had with Y/N before his last tour.

After they get into an argument, again, about the events of Silver Springs and how even after the last few years of stitching their life back together, he still only talked to Summer about everything that happened and was handling her with kid gloves, Y/N separates from him best she can. Completely at a crossroads of what to do to feel like she’s still her husband’s wife and losing all the fight to try and figure it out, she gives Terry the silent treatment and isolates from him, doing her best to only be in the same room with him when the kids are. After weeks of her barely acknowledging him or the argument, Terry is tired of going to bed alone when his wife is sleeping in the guest room right below him. His plan? Let the dom in him handle it and finally confess his monsters.

WARNINGS: 18+ themes, Minors DNI, d/s themes, smut, angst

A/N: I almost forgot to tag folks, literally stayed up all night finishing this part. Charge it to my head not my heart.

Tags: @kirayuki22 @blyffe @scorpiosaintt @kaylaahisthebestest- @captainwithoutmakingitlove @nayaesworld

A/N: Thank you to all the Terry girls out there that have created a monster in me for this man in literally less than a week. Story inspired by @megamindsecretlair ‘s “I Swear I’ll Never Leave” oneshot and @keyaho ‘s “R.E.L.L.S.” series.

A/N: There will be at least one more part. Kinda proofread, sorry in advance for any mistakes.

Just as he had finished the thought staring down at her with his arms folded and his mind racing with all the ways he could have this night go, she delivered exactly the push that would make him give them what they both needed, obviously.

“Just because I’m down here giving you all sorts of ideas, doesn’t mean I’m going to comply just like that.”

He raised a lone eyebrow and responded, “Is that so kitten?”

Y/N nodded her head, causing Terry to tighten his hands around his folded forearms. It was something small, but now that they understood each other and were officially in the scene he knew that she knew what that answer meant. He held his hand up to his ear and said, “come again kitten?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes that is so.”

“You testing me mama?” Terry asked while holding her chin to keep their gazes locked.

Y/N shrugged and struggled to keep her smirk entirely off her face as she moved her face right out of his grasp, seeing the exact reaction she’d been hoping for flash behind his eyes.

Terry grabbed her hair by the base of her neck and yanked harshly, leaning into her face as close as possible while he practically snarled out, “You will use your words.”

Y/N smiled blatantly now, what could be considered a demented smile, raising an eyebrow as if to mock his signature move with her, and replied, “Or what?”

“Or what?” Terry repeated confused and baffled by the audacity his kitten was showing. He’d already told her how close to snapping he’d been, warned her of the dangers of interacting with him in this state, and she still chose to provoke him. His mind couldn’t wrap his head around the minx that was kneeled before him, it seemed he wasn’t the only one hiding a different beast. She was usually always so compliant, even when being bratty it was easy to get her to fold to his commands, but not now. “Or what?” he repeated again, more so as a statement as he loosed the grip he had on her hair to rub the base of her skull.

The second he watched those beautiful eyes close accompanied by the sound of the barest of moans, he slapped her face 3 times in a row, open palmed like before. When her eyes and mouth popped open, his finger fucked her throat with 3 of his fingers until she was a slobbery mess. He’d pressed down on her tongue, effectively gagging her, leaned in close to her face and licked from her top lip back to her ear to grasp it between his teeth.

“You bout to find out and I don’t want no sounds out of you except ones of pleasure, mine and yours.”

Y/N smiled at him when he pulled away to look at her again but it quickly dissipated when his became sinister. “I’m bout to fuck you so good you beg me to stop and I’m going to keep,” he slapped her face one, “goin,” a second slap made her cream her panties, soaking through to the sleep shorts covering them. 

He didn’t have to see it to know it because he knew her expressions, had learned them thoroughly over the years enough to know her involuntary orgasm face. It was his favorite afterall. Terry let his wet fingers slip out of her mouth and immediately put his dick in while it was stil hanging open. Despite having plans to tie her down and fuck her sensely in their bedroom, something about this moment made him desperate to have this.

As soon as Y/N lifted her hands to hold onto his hips he popped the side of her face. “You already know what time it is mama, stop testing me.”

It really wasn’t fair how he was holding a one-sided conversation with her knowing damn well that she couldn’t respond, only react. He was using everything he knew about Y/N against her and this was the one arena that she welcomed his attention to detail. Her pussy couldn’t stop clenching around nothing since he let out that ‘fuck’ earlier.

Only thing Terry was focused on was his nut and her compliance. Despite clenching her fists at her sides for a bit with no problem she had the audacity to reach for his pussy. HIS pussy!

He pulled himself from the depths of her throat and pulled her to stand by the grasp he suddenly had on it so fast that Y/N officially couldn’t think anymore. Even the following slap barely registered as her fight or flight responses pulled her psyche in separate directions. One part of her trying to witness the moment from outside her body while the other wanted to lean into all the sensations he was making her feel.

“You acting up a little too much for my liking kitten, let’s fix that huh?”

Terry grasped her arm and turned her over his knee, using his foot to sweep her off of hers as he sat,  in such a swift motion that she couldn't have counteracted it if she tried. Gathering the second arm into the same hand that had the other at the base of her spine he got right to work. He’d gotten to his 6th blow before her body tensed up from finally feeling them all at once. Terry was not being gentle and she knew in this moment that he was definitely going to mark her every way he can, starting with the bruises that were sure to start appearing on her ass in a few hours. He let her ride out the sensations for a few moments, rubbing her butt with all the love and care he had for her before he was back to quick pops. By the time he stopped the 3rd time, he’d reached 25 and she was on the precipice of an orgasm if her moans were any indication, but he didn’t want that just yet.

“Why you actin’ up so much, huh?”

Y/N was on a high that just kept going up with every second under his hands. She had never experienced her subspace like this before and she was greedy for more. There was a small part of her that asked what if she pushed too far, but it wasn’t loud enough to stop her from looking back at him with fresh tears in her eyes from her most recent punishment, opening her mouth to say, “maybe you just don’t how to punish me.”

If she thought he looked menacing before, that was nothing compare to the monster that appeared as he rained 5 more slaps that were far slower and far heavier on her ass cheeks. She wanted to keep looking him in the eyes, happy to see this hidden side of him, but she had no control over her body as she came again, eyes and head rolling, muscles tightening. She could swear he’d shown her the universe with the way the darkness behind her eyes lit up.

[masamuneskitchen]

He couldn’t forget even a moment he had spent with her. She was breathtaking and wild and so much of everything that he wanted.

“The one where we talked until the sun came up? Yeah, I remember. Hideyoshi was absolutely certain I’d lured you into my clutches but he couldn’t find us to put a stop to my wiley ways.” He chuckles.

“Aru… don’t apologize to me please? I don’t see how I would have done anything differently were I in your shoes.”

“I underestimated how Shingen would react to “us.” I thought his happiness would make him happy for your your happiness. I should have left telling him in your hands alone. I’m the one who should apologize.”

He listened carefully as she struggled to put their relationship into words. He finally leaned next to her and took her hand. When she was quiet he said, “Can’t we play around… and still be in love? Can’t we be irresponsible… and yet still be serious about each other?”

“I’m in love with you Arundhati. I’m serious about you. Still I know things are complicated for you. Accepting that is part of being with you. Just like accepting that I might lose my head in the next battle is part of being with me.”

“I also realize that I don’t know everything about you. Which I’m okay discovering new and different parts of you. Emotionally as well as physically.” He teased bumping his shoulder against hers.

“So let’s keep playing? Hmm? While we figure this out together?”

He sighed, “but we may want to figure out how to smooth things over with big daddy Shingen though. My intention was not to start a war with the Takeda.”

————

Akira shakes her head slowly. Not sure how else to convince Shingen of the kind of danger she was putting the Takeda in just by being here.

Masamune hadn’t believed her either. Not for a very long time. Who could really believe the monstrous story that was her life while serving Iga unless they witnessed her work? But then… the monster always made sure there were no witnesses.

Perhaps she didn’t need Shingen to believe her. What she needed was to protect him. To protect the Takeda.

“Shingen, it is my professional opinion as a ninja that I failed you tonight. Nearly drawing down on an ally in the middle of a personal discussion was not safe. I would like to request that you relieve me from my work as a mitsumono, please? Until I come to terms with what really happened tonight.”

Maybe it would be enough to let him know she was serious about this? Even if he didn’t discover the depth of her fear.

“The beast is still you,” he had said. If that was true then the woman he knew was just the shell of what she wanted to be. And the beast was who she truly was. She knew both could not exist at the same time… and she was afraid that Shingen’s theory was more true than she wanted to believe.

He had described her as a brilliant person. But was she even worthy of Shingen’s light? She doubted it.

Masamune shows up for the evening meal. He finds plenty of skeptical expressions when the one-eyed dragon waltzed in to Kai. But assuring them he was simply looking for a ninja named Akira seemed to sooth them a little.

It was a little unexpected, however, to find Akira sitting next to Lord Shingen Takeda himself. It really wasn’t very ninja-like behavior. And neither was her red faced reaction when she noticed he entered the room.

@masamuneskitchen

Shingen’s eyes narrow was the one-eyes dragon of Oshu stepped into the hall where dinner for the Takeda forces had been arranged. His arm instantly tightened around Akira.

Curious about why the man was here and eager to cut to the chase, he called out.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Date Masamune?”

[deinodevilmaus]

I give you all another one of my siren designs for EPIC: The Musical! This one is the child siren, Odysseus' "daughter" though, I guess we all know that's not true ;)

[rottiens]

⊹ ˚. RYŌMEN SUKUNA┊ "Not on my legs." He clarifies. "On my stomach." You ignore the flutter that lands on your belly and force yourself to concentrate on keeping your legs steady.

𖤐 about. being taken away from your village, you have to try to live and survive on your own with the king of curses.

𖤐 cw. mdni. true form sukuna x afab!reader, dubcon (since the reader is forced to be a servant), you ride the mouth on his tummy, choking kink, sadistic sukuna if you squint, dirty talk, overstim, oral ( m -> f ), set in the heian era. divider creds: cafekitsune.

Sukuna is not familiar with giving up power, though it is not surprising, after all a man who has achieved so much power to the point of being revered as a god would not expect anything different. He is not used to being commanded, though not many have tried it and lived to tell the tale anyway, yet when you told him you wanted to do it tonight, without his help (you trying to prepare yourself, stretching yourself before taking it), fiery flames charged with lust and pride covered his devilish eyes, turning them a darker red than you are used to.

Drunk with control, Sukuna is always the one who dictates when and how things happen, ordering around those who serve him, as his word is the word of a king. He doesn't remember the last time someone addressed him with such arrogance and pride in their mouth, he should punish you for speaking before he allows you to but tonight he is feeling benevolent.

"Come here." His husky voice gave off hunger and poured over your limbs like honey. The purr in his timbre brought life to your muscles which tensed and contracted with anticipation.

You rose from the floor where you lay on your stomach with your forehead pressed to the ground in submission, and walked silently to where he is. His chambers are covered by a veil of absolute silence that is interrupted from time to time by barely audible vibrations coming from sukuna who lets them out every time he exhales through his nose, something very similar to the purring of a beast.

Filled with insecurity, you get ready to climb into his lap when you are close enough and it is only at that moment when he speaks again, freezing you on the spot.

"Not on my legs." He clarifies. "On my stomach." You ignore the flutter that lands on your belly and force yourself to concentrate on keeping your legs steady.

You take a long look at his figure and end up on his stomach, where you were ordered to sit. To describe sukuna as big is an adjective that would be too small for him, the houses in your village are big, the horses are big, sukuna… was huge. A monster, was what they called it in your village and even that word might not be enough to describe the creature that stood before you.

His four arms are a wonder to behold face to face, especially up close. Two hold him on his elbows gracefully, semi reclining on the futon where he expands his body further to give you the space you need to climb to his belly; while the other two…there is one holding his jaw and another resting above his hips.

Just like his arms, he possessed four pairs of eyes that don't let a single detail escape; all of these were set on you, you could feel them moving on you, there was no way to escape from him.

And finally, in his belly there was a mouth capable of tearing off the lower half of your body with one bite if he set his mind to it.

For how exposed he was, vulnerable even (bare belly and exposed chest, his arms in a resting position), sukuna was very relaxed and which makes you wonder if perhaps he doesn't think you brave or foolish enough to try to attack him, although it's not the right time or place, you couldn't do much if you were to hurt him sufficiently to try to escape, not with his subjects scattered all over the temple at least. Before you could get to the door his servants would have you imprisoned in one of the cold, dark rooms you've already been in.

Clearly impatient, thanks to being too occupied by your mental wanderings, the hand that lay on his hips gently pushes you into the position he ordered you to. You take a quick glance at your new seat, you find yourself just above the curved line of a smile on his lower abdomen. You look up to observe him, rather than relaxed he is now uneasy, concern is marked on your face as you recheck the mouth on his stomach closed in a tight line.

The posture is awkward thanks to the width of his body, your thighs are stretched to the max and your feet dangle from his body like an uncomfortable horse ride.

The imposing mouth suddenly opens suddenly revealing a thick and grotesque tongue and gives you a quick lick immediately wetting your crotch, the moan of surprise that escapes you makes the pair of cocks tremble under the piece of cloth that holds them captive.

Sukuna licks you again slower this time, taking his time to savor your taste. A murmur of approval makes the mouth on your stomach vibrate along with the purring that seems to increase and you hear clearly now that you are close to him. Then you realize it wasn't some noise he was making or your imagination, it was the natural purr coming from a predator and the contrast terrifies you since it sounds as soft as a lullaby.

"Give me more of that sweet taste." You clench. Your eyes, your thighs, your cunt.

The intruding tongue seems to be all over your slit at the same time, it's feather soft yet has just enough pressure to have you sobbing and dripping from how accurate its lashes are.

Soon you feel unsteady, dizzy, you try to grab hold of something firm but there is one of his hands imprisoning your wrists in your lower back and another firmly squeezes your neck making you unable to escape. "You're not going anywhere, little one," sukuna growls.

The soft muscle, coated with an excess of saliva completely covers your pussy in sweet ecstasy, you feel its edges even wet your trembling thighs, the sensation is crushing. Your whole body is charged with a strange static after the intruder moves imitating a wave, attacking your aching clit, squeezing your pussy lips and spilling your arousal into the monstrous mouth that licks and licks and then swallows.

"I want you to ride it." Four fingers pinch your nipples at the same time. "Ride my tongue, you said you wanted to get ready but I do not see you doing anything but being lazy on me," he reminds you, in that teasing tone that could make you cum right then and there.

It's too much. You want to let him know, your cheeks are about to boil and you don't know how much you can hold back the tears. The sensation of pleasure was overwhelming, the line between pleasure and too much of it causing pain was very thin. You wanted to run away, to ask him that you needed to rest at least for a moment but you know what that could cause.

"I do not want to repeat it, woman."

You don't seek to anger him because his punishments are far worse, so you find the last shred of willpower in you and rotate your hips in weak circles along with a broken gasp. He grunts in response.

You're close. Very, very close. The grip on your wrists increases and you slurp through your nose. You rub it desperately up and down, grinding your sensitive clit in the process, you do small bounces on the fully hanging tongue that reveal sticky clicks that expose how wet you are, your own juices mixed with his saliva spilling down the length of your legs and soaking his hips.

"Cum for me." He commands firmly, manifesting small mouths on his hands that are tasked with torturing your tits, sucking and biting your nipples mercilessly as he delights in watching you squirm under his touch.

"Sukuna!" His name feels sweet on the roof of your mouth and rumbles between the walls of his chamber as your movements descend to gradually fade away.

Then you hear a chuckle, the mouth you just rode, a grotesque cackle that bristles your skin and makes you moan at how sensitive you are as it gives you one last lick and then disappears completely into the cavity, showing you just as it did at first a tight line that could pass as a scar if you weren't paying attention.

Abruptly, his fingers dig into your cheekbones, sinking your cheeks so that your lips can pout adorably. His purr is much louder and harder now.

"If you want to make your king proud you will have to do more than that." Your eyes snap open. "You're ready to take my cocks at the same time, I promise I'm going to use that body of yours tonight until you pass out."

This is a repost! <3

[theoldsports]

SPONTANEOUS.

Art Donaldson x Reader

oops. it’s gonna be a series. i’m developing Lore. let me know what you think and where to go next.

warnings: 18+ please, drug use mention, drinking (underage), kinda sexual content.

LINK TO SORRY SERIES

Fancy parties were loathsome. [Y/N] thought so, at least. She hated being told to stop calling them fancy parties and shindigs and to call them by their proper names: galas, benefits, balls, whatever. It was exhausting. Her feet weren’t meant to be elegantly jammed into spike heels. [Y/N] liked the height she was, thank you very much.

Did supporting charitable causes have to feel so degrading?

Capitalism at its finest.

[Y/N] had been attending these things since she was a little girl. Seven or eight years old. So young, in fact, that she now can’t remember what demographic or ailment-research, or political party this goddamn yearly spring shindig was for. Mr. and Mrs. Zweig were always nice to her when she was a child. She wasn’t just a family-friend, she (and her parents) felt like friends that were family.

What made the lavish Zweig parties tolerable was Patrick Zweig. She had known Patrick as long as there had been parties to get dressed up for. He had scraped her off a marbled staircase step as a little girl when her polished pleather mary janes didn’t have the traction to keep her upright. She had cried when she fell. He had said: “you’re really loud, you know that?” And she had laughed. So they were doomed to spend eternity hiding in coat rooms and getting tipsy together at these things.

Patrick was never one of those boys that felt the need to turn his back on [Y/N] during the cooties years, or the so-she’s-your-girlfriend? years. The pair of them always managed to be simply themselves and that was enough. He was merciless and unapologetic, but he made a hell of a best friend.

[Y/N] was two months older than Patrick, and had been taller for their first two years of friendship. When his shift in stature occurred, it happened fast.

Patrick went away to boarding school and came back a gangly beast. [Y/N], though they hadn’t spent every waking moment (weekends and school days) together since he had left her for a racket and a tennis ball, was always pleased to see Patrick was still himself every time he came home. Louder and stupider each time, but still Patrick.

Though, one spring break was different. Eleventh grade, if [Y/N] recalled correctly. Patrick came home, tall and stupid as ever, toting a boy named Art Donaldson.

Art Donaldson was considerably smaller, and debatably less stupid than Patrick Zweig. [Y/N] understood that day why all the girls in her grade giggled about boys. [Y/N] could never tell Patrick that. He would have been insufferable about it.

Actually, [Y/N] felt jealous. That was also a secret. Because Art, unlike she and Patrick, was nice. Everybody liked him. Nobody ever talked shit about him. Adults loved him and his small-town boy manners. He actually was a rambunctious little jerk, but nobody else saw that. Everyone else got yes sir, yes ma’am, I’m well, how are you? He could turn that charm on and off like a faucet. Infuriating, right?

[Y/N] was also jealous because it was clear she had been replaced.

Patrick lit up like a Christmas tree when he was with Art. He never looked at her like that. Art must have been a better friend to him then she was. Patrick called her once a week to talk for years, but Art slept, like, six feet away from him. It simply wasn’t fair.

Because of that, [Y/N] remembers spring break was really hard. [Y/N] was acutely aware she had lost something she didn’t know she could lose to the human version of a fucking beagle.

[Y/N] couldn’t remember the grade they were in exactly, but she did remember the dress she wore to the Zweigs’ party that year. It was light green and had spaghetti straps. It was longer and more form-fitting than what she was used. Most of the girls her age had settled for lots of tulle and cheetah-print so [Y/N] looked more mature by comparison. It was the first time [Y/N] remembered feeling grown up at all.

To think she thought that all her excitement and contentment was wasted. [Y/N] sat in a plastic pool chair in the backyard curled up with her cork wedge platforms resting dangerously close to the water. She nursed a bottle of vodka she had swiped two months ago from her parents liquor cabinet to surprise Patrick. Meticulously, she had waited for them to be out of town and found the key to the liquor cabinet. A whole bottle just for [Y/N] and her best friend. [Y/N] had barely managed to keep it a secret that she had taken it. She had been so proud of herself and thought Patrick would be too.

Now, she was the only one around to drink it.

Patrick had put his warm, familiar hands on her shoulders and told [Y/N] to wait right there and that he and Art would be back in a sec. The two boys had vanished upstairs presumably to Patrick’s room with laughter spilling from their mouths. [Y/N] sat at the base of the stairs alone for twenty minutes.

According to the garish clock on the wall, at twenty-one minutes, [Y/N] disappeared to the pool. She officially hated Patrick too. He had left her alone at parties plenty of times, and she him. They’d dance with others, or sneak off for a makeout session with a pretty stranger. It had never been a big deal either way. This felt like deliberate abandonment for no good reason. That was a first.

“Whoa, save some for the rest of us.” A reedy voice called out. Art Donaldson. [Y/N]’s head glanced over her shoulder so fast at the sound that she almost made herself dizzy. It took little time to realize there was no Patrick with him.

[Y/N] pulled the bottle closer. “That was a really long one sec,” She replied. She planned to say that eventually in the wasted minutes she waited, but it sounded less cool now than it did in her head. [Y/N] sounded plain mopey and that was a shame. “What’d you guys do anyway? Where’s Patrick?”

Art shrugged and walked further into view. He looked a bit sheepish. “Being Patrick,” He didn’t answer the first question she asked. There was a half-smile tugging at his lips. Art looked nice. Brown dress shoes, navy jacket, white shirt. No tie. She could have sworn that had been a tie at some point earlier. His shaggy blonde hair was mussed, but she had yet to observe it being neat. It was fustrating how effortlessly nice he looked. [Y/N] thought that everyday from day one. “It’s getting kinda cold. You wanna head back inside? I was looking for you—“

“I’m alright here, but thanks,” she slurred slightly. “You head in. I’m not here to ruin your fun.” It had sounded bitter. She hadn’t meant for it to.

Art sighed and glanced away from her. He paused a moment and sighed. “I’m not here to ruin yours either, y’know.”

“You don’t have to make this into a thing. It’s fine.”

“Well, too late. Patrick’s being an ass. I don’t want you out here feeling like I’m some homewrecker. I’ve been on the receiving end of shit like this from him, too. He’s not trying to be nasty to you, ‘promise. Come on, I’m not gonna let you freeze out here.” Art said, stepping in a bit. The glow from the pool left green and white wiggly lines across his cheeks.

“It’s spring, It’ll warm up. Get back up to that party, man. Patrick’s waiting for you.”

“You’re being impossible.”

[Y/N] set the half-empty bottle down beneath her chair. “Nuh-uh.”

“Jesus… if you’re gonna be a jerk about it, at least take this.” Art frowned, shrugging out of his suit jacket. He seemed disappointed.

“Oh, Art, please—“

“No, no! You made your choice. Don’t let me spoil your fun with you and the… the vodka,” Art said, making a show of taking the jacket off and throwing it over to [Y/N]. The balled up lump of fabric landed in her lap with a soft thud. Her stomach churned. “All hunky dory now,” He said, holding his hands out to show he was no threat. Art’s brows were lowered protectively close to his eyes in what [Y/N] thought was an effort to mask slight hurt or rejection. He turned to walk away as [Y/N] clutched the fabric of his jacket between her fingers. Art turned back to to look at her for a moment. [Y/N] didn’t know what that expression was meant to mean. “Be careful, okay? For what it’s worth, you—you look lovely tonight. It would be a shame for such a, uh, such a pretty girl in a pretty dress to end up face down, stuck in the pool drain. ‘Night [Y/N].”

[Y/N] was glad for the dark because she felt her face heat up and dopey smile start to form at the compliment. Maybe she was drunk, but that had to be flirting. In the most fucked up way possible, but still. Why? Art Donaldson didn’t even like her.

Art had only managed to take a few steps into the dewy grass when [Y/N] begrudgingly called out: “Art, wait!”

She hated that she liked the smirk on his face when he turned around. He could tell what she wanted by her tone. What kind of fucker takes no for answer happily and still sets himself up for a yes in the end. “Yes?” He asked, trying not to smile.

“Listen, you’re right—“ [Y/N] stood up confidently, sliding Art’s jacket around her shoulders. And she stood up too fast and knocked her sandals into the pool. “Shit!” She cursed. She was still an age where cursing felt cool and unfamiliar. [Y/N] stood on her unsteady feet and watched her sandals bob out to the middle of the pool, propelled by her kick. She was embarrassed now as well. The stakes of everything felt so much higher than sandals in the pool of her best friend’s backyard. Booze will do that to the sanest of folks. [Y/N] dropped her face heavily into her hands. Great.

Quickly, Art cut his eyes between her and the shoes and back again. “Where do they keep the pool net?” Art asked calmly, without missing a beat.

“The shed.” [Y/N] said miserably and pointed a few feet away. Art bounded across the pavement around the pool to the shed. He tugged once, then twice.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. “It’s locked,” He reported to [Y/N] from practically halfway in the pruned hedges. Art started the walk back to her. Once he was beside her, Art placed a hand gently at her elbow. “Come back inside with me. Please. Patrick may be able to get us a key and we can…”

But [Y/N] looked so sad from behind her hands. Even though all of this was so childish. She was also wearing Art’s jacket now and that did things to his brain. Her dress wasn’t not low cut and he froze for a second. All he could do was stare.

“Just do what I would do,” Patrick said. “It’ll be fine, man. She’s already into you, I can tell.”

“Well, if she’s into me, why would I do what you would do? That’s an awful suggestion, Patrick.” Art protested.

Patrick spun around in his desk chair to face Art as he rolled a joint. “I’ve known her since before I knew you. Just, like, be spontaneous. That’s what I mean. Spontaneous. She’s into that because she’s like that too. And she’s… wicked mean, so don’t start shit. She’ll surprise you, but like, in a good way. What I said before makes me sound like a jackass,” Patrick paused to laugh. “Be in the moment. Don’t get in your head about it. Which you’re doing right now— I can tell, Arthur…” Patrick drew out Art’s full name (which he hated) to get under his skin.

Art stood up from the floor in frustration. He glanced at his watch. Too much time had passed. The window was metaphorically closing. Hastily, Art dashed to the door. “I’m going down there. Poor girl’s been waiting all this time because you, my friend, are a shitty advice-giver.”

“Spontaneous!” Patrick called after him with a grin.

Art stared at [Y/N]. Then he blinked. Then tilted his head to the side. Spontaneous. Before he knew it, he was tugging his shoes and socks off and diving into the pool. Art had been right, it was getting decisively cold and the pool water reflected that. Art swam out to where the wedges had floated too, which had actually been fairly far. He wasn’t sure if the net would have gotten them that easily. Art nicked the shoes by the ankle straps and shook his wet hair out of his face. As he paddled back, he glanced at [Y/N]’s expression. She smiled wide with joy and surprise at Art’s sacrifice.

“Art! Thank you so much!” She said when he flopped the waterlogged shoes onto the concrete. Art looked up at her from the water and he only looked up her skirt a little bit.

“It’s no trouble. Repayment’s in order, though.”

“Repayment…? What do you—“

Art wrapped his wet, callused hands around both of [Y/N] ankles and flipped her into the pool. She screamed as she splashed into the pool. Then laughed hard. Art wanted to hear that laugh for the rest of his life.

“Wait, fuck, you can swim, right?”

Fortunately, [Y/N] could, and that’s the move that won Art Donaldson his wife.

—

“Honey, you have to get up so you can get ready…” Art’s mouth moved against the shell of [Y/N]’s left ear. His arm was tossed over her middle. Normally, it was Art that dreaded getting out of bed, but clearly they enjoyed switching roles once in a while.

A nap had turned into two-and-a-half hours of [Y/N]’s soft snores while Art held her. He couldn’t sleep much, but luckily he had something beautiful to look at. She ripped into him about his staring problem all the time. Art couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. “No.” She mumbled.

“Please…” Art’s hand trailed under her shirt and climbed up, up, up.

“No,” she sighed. Art’s hands groped her left breast and [Y/N] didn’t particularly mind. She shivered at the contact. Art had known every inch of her body over years. Neither was bored yet, though.

“It’s one night. One party. We don’t have to stay all night… He’s not going to be there, Lenora told me when I RSVP’d.”

They had an unspoken rule. They did not name Patrick in conversation when sober. The wound was too fresh still.

“Don’t talk about him, or his fucking mom when you’re touching me like that,” [Y/N] all but moaned as Art’s left thumb circled her nipple. “‘Thought we had to get up…”

Art smirked. “We do. At least you’re awake now.” He teasingly withdrew his hand entirely from out of her shirt and scampered out of bed in one agile zip of a motion.

“Art!”

She groaned. Rolling on her back to look at the ceiling, she glanced over at Art walking through the master bathroom doorway in his briefs. What an incredible ass that man has. “Motivation to leave the party early.” Art said and popped off into the shower.

Maybe it was selfish. Patrick and [Y/N] and Art hadn’t spoken in almost a year. It was no surprise to the Donaldsons that Patrick was an addict. He had been addicted to almost everything and everyone that crossed his path. What they hadn’t expected was him becoming so out of control that he missed the wedding of his two best friends and was sent into rehab once he was declared medically stable. The one person that both Donaldsons had fought to have in their own personal half of the wedding party. And he wasn’t there. And the wedding was expensive enough to go through with it amid all the bad feelings over Patrick.

Still, they were invited to the Zweig family’s charity or whatever gala. They would go like they always had, too. But it would be their first time alone, so to speak.

[Y/N] regretfully got out of bed while Art showered. She moved to the closet and unzipped her paper thin dress bag. The gown itself was beautiful, but not all too expensive. The year had been tight in terms of money. The wedding and the honeymoon were pricey enough before you added in rackets and competition entry fees and coaching. Art was an expensive husband to have. He made up for it. He was playing at his best too, so [Y/N] hardly cared. Who could put a price on seeing Art smile like that?

[Y/N] cringed if she had to pay more than two-hundred dollars for shoes or a dress anyway.

The dress was green. She’d worn a lot of green since she met Art. [Y/N] dreaded wiggling into shapewear and spending too long on her hair. Art had it easy. A tie, a jacket and trading his nasty watch for his nicer one. It wasn’t fair. It never was with Art.

She got ready all the same. The straps rested on her shoulders, thicker than the early 2000s straps she had been dumped into the pool in. It was longer than that dress. Almost floor length instead of mid calf. It was elegant for its price tag.

Once the dress was on, [Y/N] tumbled into the bathroom to do her makeup. The shared counter was way too small for both of their shit to sit nicely on. She would complain about that when there was more money in the bank account to do something about it. Art was taking longer than normal in the shower. Boner, [Y/N] thought.

As she started to put her face on, she could see Art’s face in the foggy mirror behind her. The sound of the water stopping and the shower curtain being tossed back had gone unnoticed. He was smiling slightly. “You look nice.” He said softly. Art toweled off his shaggy hair harshly behind her. He kept looking at her.

This is how Art was. He made these remarkable heart eyes at her every time he saw her. [Y/N] could be wearing a potato sack and she would feel beautiful. That look, that staring problem, was worse a hundredfold when she was dressed up. He kept glancing at her. She could see him in the mirror. He wanted [Y/N] to see. The blue and brown of his eyes cast further and further down her body.

“Staring.” [Y/N] said simply. She didn’t even look away from her own face in the mirror.

“Yeah. And?” Art smiled cheekily. His face was bright red not from the warm shower water. He wrapped his towel around his slim waist. [Y/N] applied too much concealer and less blush. “I, of all people, am allowed.”

“Idiot.” [Y/N] said. Art dried his hands profusely on his towel, knowing she would squawk at him if he left wet handprints behind on her dress.

Art’s hands wrapped around her waist. Great pains were taken to prevent other wet spots from splopping up her dress. So, so gently, he kissed the left side of her neck from behind. “I was thinking—” Art was always gentle in his own way.

“Ooh, dangerous.”

“Shut up. Y’know, this is the first Zweig party where your placecard is going to say Donaldson on it…”

[Y/N] nodded softly. “Huh. Yeah. That’s true.” She said, smiling a bit.

“I’m really, really excited about that. On the seating chart, we’re the Donaldsons. Isn’t that so crazy…?” Art whispered into her plush skin. “Plural. Two of us.”

Teasingly, she nudged him back with her elbow. The smile was still wide on her lips. “You’re being such a girl about it.”

Art didn’t let go or relent. He pressed feather-light kisses between [Y/N]’s ear and collarbone. “Am I? Hadn’t noticed.”

“We’re going to be late to this thing you want to go to so bad, Mr. Donaldson, if you don’t stop.” [Y/N] whispered, incapable of doing more. She did set down her makeup sponge and pot of foundation with a clack.

“Would that be such a bad thing? Only a couple minutes, right? We could-we could cut out some of the boring small talk and…” Art said, daring boldly to drag his tongue up her throat as the steamed up mirror cleared some. He never finished his sentence verbally.

[Y/N] gasped at the feeling. That was a brave move for Art. “You drag me out of bed early so we can be late anyway. You don’t make any s-sense, babe.”

He huffed impishly. Art spun [Y/N] around to face him. His face and shoulders were damp from the water collected in his hair, which desperately needed a trim. Carefully, Art brushed [Y/N]’s hair away from her face. “You’re right… I’m sorry. Please let me make it up to you?”

“How?”

Then, Art’s mouth quirked into that crooked smile she loved so much.

“Please.” Art said in a hushed voice and boosted [Y/N] smoothly onto their rickety counter. “Give me ten minutes.”

“You can do better than ten.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Clock’s ticking.” When she said it, she heard Art’s knees hit the tile in front of her.

[danrifics]

good morning i have slept a total of 2 hours here’s my spoiler breakdown for terrible influence antwerp

they start by playing a text to speech voice who welcomes us and the straight boyfriends and the dads (they’re a bit obsessed with the dads i’ll be real) the voice tells us if we film she’s gonna sue are asses. text to speech lady she is an icon

dnp come out and they’re like yo this is cool it’s the first show, you guys are gonna see what we’ve been up to and then they’re like it’s the first show so we can use you guys to decide if we change anything

they they’re like there’s probably people in the audience who don’t really know us so they do a 15 years of dan and phil lore breakdown with dolls of themselves in little set of iconic dnp locations (made by pj and sophie btw) they put these sets in a table in front of a camera and it shows on the big screen, (for 1 section of this the screen doesn’t work for the first part lol) also phil makes the dolls kiss and they also make the dolls hump the breakfast bar cos of course they do

i can’t remember what happens next or maybe it jumps right into the next thing i mention

they play a game show called role model or no-model which is a madlibs style game where you have to decide if the version of dan and phil the audience creates is a role model or not these are compared to real dnp. we had homophobic furry lawyer dan and linguistics dr phil wo has a thing for hamsters. just an fyi for this dan is really good at hearing what the audience is saying and phil is not at all and im pretty sure he made his up cos he couldn’t understand what we wanted

okay so after this iirc they start talking about the youtube landscape and what they’re gonna do after tour and how to keep people entertained and they go on a little adventure through different genres of youtube like minecraft lets plays, vtubers and then they pretend to be mr beast and pretend to give away a bunch of stuff that they don’t have, they cure us of any mental health issues and they cure us from being gay <3

then they decide to have a boxing match cos obvs that’s what youtubers do, they ask us to cheer for whoever they want to win and it has cool intro to it! i’ll be honest this boxing match goes on for entirely too long like it spans the end of the first half and the start of the second but they have like choreographed fighting and OMFG it’s very gay and like suggestive and they do many times look like they’re gonna have sex 😂 like one of phils moves is to hit dan with his ass while dan is holding him from behind so… yeah. anyway dan thought he won ours and then phil knocked him out with a tv, as he should!! also before they end the first half they’re having an insult match where phils tells dan hes gonna burn his house down only for dan to say they live in the same house and i was dying it was so funny, phil also calls dan a dickhead and this is where he also calls him a cunt and that’s how the first half ends. oh also phil has a fake 6 pack on and that’s the $300 dollar silicone btw

okay second half after dan is dead they have a sincere moment and then they’re like you guys keep telling us you want load of long unedited content and they ask us to tell them a topic to monologue about and someone shouts feet and they rant about feet lmao phil excitedly tells everyone he has a better wiki feet rating than dan

then dan goes on a rant about being discriminated against as a millennial (can’t remember how we got there) and phil gets bored and starts watching subway surfers and i’ll be real honest as a gen z i instantly got distracted by subway surfers and didn’t listen to what dan was saying (that was the point tho) and phil keeps turning up the volume and dan gets mad and he storms off

we have a nice sincere moment with phil but idk what tf it was cos neither did phil 😂

then suddenly a voice, oh here she comes, she asks if we’re ready to confess our sins and out comes sister daniel, everyone fucking loses it, if you heard me screaming so loud no you didn’t.

anyway they read some confessions (phil is father philip) and they read out a few including one from @dnphobe !!! phil has a water gun that he didn’t have when he was meant to and couldn’t find and then found and he was spraying it at people to cleanse them of their sins which is what they meant by people being in the splash zone btw also phil sprayed it at dan it was kinda cute

okay so they say they need to go and get changed and they head off stage and there’s a gag where they leave the microphone on and they’re purposely making it sound sexual and it’s so funny and then dan comes out and phil doesn’t cos he’s struggling with his leather fucking trousers that was a completely unscripted part for sure

then they talk about the hiatus a bit and how dan left us and they keep calling us their family and brb while i cry my eyes out

then they pull out a fucking banger of a song, like i can’t even explain to you how good it is, it has a fully like kpop style dance to it that im gonna fucking learn lmao and dan was so good at it like im not even kidding that man was pulling moves!! phil was doing great too btw but he definitely wasn’t as confident in it as dan was but damn it’s the best song yet imo!!

also i forgot to write the conspiracy bit because i forgot where in the show it is but on one of them they were trying so hard to make us say the opposite one but we were literally forcing tour bus on them and yes they confirmed they shared a bed on that tour bus!! and they played it off like its okay for friends to do that (cos it is) but they way they said it was that thing again where they blur the line a little so we know what they actually mean but still pretend they mean something else

okay some little things i remember that i didn’t write above

- “i can’t imagine my life without you”

- “it’ll be 15 years in december” (if you know you know)

- the absolute silence after they confirmed the bed thing cos none of us were actually expecting it

- dan had to prompt phil a little to remind him what to say next but it was very cute

- they kept looking at each other in *that* way

- phil lied to us about when norman died cos he had norman merch coming out

- sleepless night with phil 3 is fake!!

- they showed *that* video of phil asleep on the tour bus

- there were multiple times where i thought they’re gonna kiss right now???

-phil called dan kinda sexy

- ALL IS FORGIVEN, ANYTHING FROM THE LAST WE MIGHT HAVE DONE IS FORGIVEN THEY LOVE US WE ARE A FAMILY THEY ARE LITERALLY OUR DADS

[artist-issues]

Disney doesn't need to change "the formula." That's the last thing that Wish proves.

What Wish proves is that "the formula" only works when you know why the ingredients are in it, and you use them the correct way.

The Princess Character is meant to wish for only half of the movie's message, and go through an adventure that teaches her what the other half is; what her dream was missing. Ariel dreamed of understanding but she was missing love. Tiana dreamed of achieving her goals but she was missing faith. Jasmine dreamed of freedom but she was missing trust. Belle dreamed of adventure but she was missing being understood.

The Villain is meant to highlight the opposite of the movie's message. Jafar gets what he wants through trickery and manipulation; that's the opposite of Aladdin's "truth will set you free" message, and he gets imprisoned in a lamp. Scar thinks being a King is having his way all the time and can't learn from his past of living in Mufasa's shadow; that's the opposite of The Lion King's "Let the past remind you of your responsibility to selflessness." Gaston loves only himself and is always obsessed with appearances; that's the opposite of Beauty & the Beast's "true love is found within a heart of self-sacrifice." That's what makes them such good villains. (and that clear direction is what drives good villain songs, since Magnifico's is what everyone is talking about)

The sidekick is supposed to compare/contrast with the main character's qualities. Abu is a greedy thief, which is what everyone in Agrabah thinks Aladdin is; when he scolds Abu and teaches him selflessness, it shows us who Aladdin actually is. Flounder is easily frightened and looks at the glass half-full; when Ariel coaxes him and leads by example, we see her bravery and positivity reflected in Flounder's tiny character arc. Timon & Pumbaa do whatever they want all day just like young Simba always dreamed of; when Simba goes to live with them, he finds that "getting his way all the time" makes him forget who he really is and feel empty.

The setting is supposed to show off the characters and highlight the movie's message. Rapunzel's tower is designed to be pretty on the inside because of her influence; if it were too dark and prison-shaped, we'd wonder why she didn't work up the courage to leave sooner. Just like how Quasimodo has made his corner of the bell-tower beautiful, too; they're taught the world is cruel and they're not strong enough for it, but they make their own worlds beautiful enough to hint that that's wrong right from the start. Ariel's grotto is shaped like a tower with no roof so that she only has one window to the forbidden Surface, and it's the light that comes from that forbidden world into her dark grotto which literally makes her able to see human things differently. Tiana's apartment has no interesting features except her father's picture, a perfectly made bed, a drawer with no extra outfits but stuffed with tip money, and only two dresses; both of which are for work.

None of that is happening in Wish, because they didn't know why the formula ingredients are there. Disney needs to understand and return to the formula the right way; forgetting it was what got them here.

Asha learns nothing to add to her dream, unless you count "the power to grant wishes is in me." Which you shouldn't, because we didn't even know she was confused about that until the animals sang a song that was completely off-topic and she had the chance to jump in and sing "I'm a Star!"

Magnifico does not demonstrate the opposite of Wish's message effectively because his character has nothing to do with a philosophy against making wishes, and everything to do with power. (He is the strongest character in the film. But because the message and core concept of what wishes are are so bad, that's not saying much.)

Valentino, and Asha's friends, do not highlight anything about her character through compare/contrast. Valentino is brave and all over the place. Her friends are seven-dwarfs parodies. Happy, Doc, Sneezy, Dopey, Bashful, Sleepy, Grumpy. None of that contrasts with Asha's vague characterization of "cares too much." None of it compares to that characterization, either.

The setting is empty. There are no interesting details that teach you something about any of the characters. None in Asha's home, none in the neat-and-tidy one-dimensional forest, none in the Rosas square, and none in the bland, empty castle. Magnifico's study is the closest anything gets; there's a loose concept that all of Asha's friends have to work together to open the roof, and take a leap of faith to weigh the pulley system down. Unfortunately, none of these characters is shown struggling to work together, OR to take leaps of faith, at all, before this point.

The ingredients of the formula are in Wish. They're just not being used correctly. This is how not to use the formula; it's not the formulas fault. If it ain't broke. They should never have let people convince them to try and fix it.

[lisafication]

For those who might happen across this, I'm an administrator for the forum 'Sufficient Velocity', a large old-school forum oriented around Creative Writing. I originally posted this on there (and any reference to 'here' will mean the forum), but I felt I might as well throw it up here, as well, even if I don't actually have any followers.

This week, I've been reading fanfiction on Archive of Our Own (AO3), a site run by the Organisation for Transformative Works (OTW), a non-profit. This isn't particularly exceptional, in and of itself — like many others on the site, I read a lot of fanfiction, both on Sufficient Velocity (SV) and elsewhere — however what was bizarre to me was encountering a new prefix on certain works, that of 'End OTW Racism'. While I'm sure a number of people were already familiar with this, I was not, so I looked into it.

What I found... wasn't great. And I don't think anyone involved realises that.

To summarise the details, the #EndOTWRacism campaign, of which you may find their manifesto here, is a campaign oriented towards seeing hateful or discriminatory works removed from AO3 — and believe me, there is a lot of it. To whit, they want the OTW to moderate them. A laudable goal, on the face of it — certainly, we do something similar on Sufficient Velocity with Rule 2 and, to be clear, nothing I say here is a critique of Rule 2 (or, indeed, Rule 6) on SV.

But it's not that simple, not when you're the size of Archive of Our Own. So, let's talk about the vagaries and little-known pitfalls of content moderation, particularly as it applies to digital fiction and at scale. Let's dig into some of the details — as far as credentials go, I have, unfortunately, been in moderation and/or administration on SV for about six years and this is something we have to grapple with regularly, so I would like to say I can speak with some degree of expertise on the subject.

So, what are the problems with moderating bad works from a site? Let's start with discovery— that is to say, how you find rule-breaching works in the first place. There are more-or-less two different ways to approach manual content moderation of open submissions on a digital platform: review-based and report-based (you could also call them curation-based and flag-based), with various combinations of the two. Automated content moderation isn't something I'm going to cover here — I feel I can safely assume I'm preaching to the choir when I say it's a bad idea, and if I'm not, I'll just note that the least absurd outcome we had when simulating AI moderation (mostly for the sake of an academic exercise) on SV was banning all the staff.

In a review-based system, you check someone's work and approve it to the site upon verifying that it doesn't breach your content rules. Generally pretty simple, we used to do something like it on request. Unfortunately, if you do that, it can void your safe harbour protections in the US per Myeress vs. Buzzfeed Inc. This case, if you weren't aware, is why we stopped offering content review on SV. Suffice to say, it's not really a realistic option for anyone large enough for the courts to notice, and extremely clunky and unpleasant for the users, to boot.

Report-based systems, on the other hand, are something we use today — users find works they think are in breach and alert the moderation team to their presence with a report. On SV, this works pretty well — a user or users flag a work as potentially troublesome, moderation investigate it and either action it or reject the report. Unfortunately, AO3 is not SV. I'll get into the details of that dreadful beast known as scaling later, but thankfully we do have a much better comparison point — fanfiction.net (FFN).

FFN has had two great purges over the years, with a... mixed amount of content moderation applied in between: one in 2002 when the NC-17 rating was removed, and one in 2012. Both, ostensibly, were targeted at adult content. In practice, many fics that wouldn't raise an eye on Spacebattles today or Sufficient Velocity prior to 2018 were also removed; a number of reports suggest that something as simple as having a swearword in your title or summary was enough to get you hit, even if you were a 'T' rated work. Most disturbingly of all, there are a number of — impossible to substantiate — accounts of groups such as the infamous Critics United 'mass reporting' works to trigger a strike to get them removed. I would suggest reading further on places like Fanlore if you are unfamiliar and want to know more.

Despite its flaws however, report-based moderation is more-or-less the only option, and this segues neatly into the next piece of the puzzle that is content moderation, that is to say, the rubric. How do you decide what is, and what isn't against the rules of your site?

Anyone who's complained to the staff about how vague the rules are on SV may have had this explained to them, but as that is likely not many of you, I'll summarise: the more precise and clear-cut your chosen rubric is, the more it will inevitably need to resemble a legal document — and the less readable it is to the layman. We'll return to SV for an example here: many newer users will not be aware of this, but SV used to have a much more 'line by line, clearly delineated' set of rules and... people kind of hated it! An infraction would reference 'Community Compact III.15.5' rather than Rule 3, because it was more or less written in the same manner as the Terms of Service (sans the legal terms of art). While it was a more legible rubric from a certain perspective, from the perspective of communicating expectations to the users it was inferior to our current set of rules  — even less of them read it,  and we don't have great uptake right now.

And it still wasn't really an improvement over our current set-up when it comes to 'moderation consistency'. Even without getting into the nuts and bolts of "how do you define a racist work in a way that does not, at any point, say words to the effect of 'I know it when I see it'" — which is itself very, very difficult don't get me wrong I'm not dismissing this — you are stuck with finding an appropriate footing between a spectrum of 'the US penal code' and 'don't be a dick' as your rubric. Going for the penal code side doesn't help nearly as much as you might expect with moderation consistency, either — no matter what, you will never have a 100% correct call rate. You have the impossible task of writing a rubric that is easy for users to comprehend, extremely clear for moderation and capable of cleanly defining what is and what isn't racist without relying on moderator judgement, something which you cannot trust when operating at scale.

Speaking of scale, it's time to move on to the third prong — and the last covered in this ramble, which is more of a brief overview than anything truly in-depth — which is resources. Moderation is not a magic wand, you can't conjure it out of nowhere: you need to spend an enormous amount of time, effort and money on building, training and equipping a moderation staff, even a volunteer one, and it is far, far from an instant process. Our most recent tranche of moderators spent several months in training and it will likely be some months more before they're fully comfortable in the role — and that's with a relatively robust bureaucracy and a number of highly experienced mentors supporting them, something that is not going to be available to a new moderation branch with little to no experience. Beyond that, there's the matter of sheer numbers.

Combining both moderation and arbitration — because for volunteer staff, pure moderation is in actuality less efficient in my eyes, for a variety of reasons beyond the scope of this post, but we'll treat it as if they're both just 'moderators' — SV presently has 34 dedicated moderation volunteers. SV hosts ~785 million words of creative writing.

AO3 hosts ~32 billion.

These are some very rough and simplified figures, but if you completely ignore all the usual problems of scaling manpower in a business (or pseudo-business), such as (but not limited to) geometrically increasing bureaucratic complexity and administrative burden, along with all the particular issues of volunteer moderation... AO3 would still need well over one thousand volunteer moderators to be able to match SV's moderator-to-creative-wordcount ratio.

Paid moderation, of course, you can get away with less — my estimate is that you could fully moderate SV with, at best, ~8 full-time moderators, still ignoring administrative burden above the level of team leader. This leaves AO3 only needing a much more modest ~350 moderators. At the US minimum wage of ~$15k p.a. — which is, in my eyes, deeply unethical to pay moderators as full-time moderation is an intensely gruelling role with extremely high rates of PTSD and other stress-related conditions — that is approximately ~$5.25m p.a. costs on moderator wages. Their average annual budget is a bit over $500k.

So, that's obviously not on the table, and we return to volunteer staffing. Which... let's examine that scenario and the questions it leaves us with, as our conclusion.

Let's say, through some miracle, AO3 succeeds in finding those hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of volunteer moderators. We'll even say none of them are malicious actors or sufficiently incompetent as to be indistinguishable, and that they manage to replicate something on the level of or superior to our moderation tooling near-instantly at no cost. We still have several questions to be answered:

How are you maintaining consistency? Have you managed to define racism to the point that moderator judgment no longer enters the equation? And to be clear, you cannot allow moderator judgment to be a significant decision maker at this scale, or you will end with absurd results.

How are you handling staff mental health? Some reading on the matter, to save me a lengthy and unrelated explanation of some of the steps involved in ensuring mental health for commercial-scale content moderators.

How are you handling your failures? No moderation in the world has ever succeeded in a 100% accuracy rate, what are you doing about that?

Using report-based discovery, how are you preventing 'report brigading', such as the theories surrounding Critics United mentioned above? It is a natural human response to take into account the amount and severity of feedback. While SV moderators are well trained on the matter, the rare times something is receiving enough reports to potentially be classified as a 'brigade' on that scale will nearly always be escalated to administration, something completely infeasible at (you're learning to hate this word, I'm sure) scale.

How are you communicating expectations to your user base? If you're relying on a flag-based system, your users' understanding of the rules is a critical facet of your moderation system — how have you managed to make them legible to a layman while still managing to somehow 'truly' define racism?

How are you managing over one thousand moderators? Like even beyond all the concerns with consistency, how are you keeping track of that many moving parts as a volunteer organisation without dozens or even hundreds of professional managers? I've ignored the scaling administrative burden up until now, but it has to be addressed in reality.

What are you doing to sweep through your archives? SV is more-or-less on-top of 'old' works as far as rule-breaking goes, with the occasional forgotten tidbit popping up every 18 months or so — and that's what we're extrapolating from. These thousand-plus moderators are mostly going to be addressing current or near-current content, are you going to spin up that many again to comb through the 32 billion words already posted?

I could go on for a fair bit here, but this has already stretched out to over two thousand words.

I think the people behind this movement have their hearts in the right place and the sentiment is laudable, but in practice it is simply 'won't someone think of the children' in a funny hat. It cannot be done.

Even if you could somehow meet the bare minimum thresholds, you are simply not going to manage a ruleset of sufficient clarity so as to prevent a much-worse repeat of the 2012 FF.net massacre, you are not going to be able to manage a moderation staff of that size and you are not going to be able to ensure a coherent understanding among all your users (we haven't managed that after nearly ten years and a much smaller and more engaged userbase). There's a serious number of other issues I haven't covered here as well, as this really is just an attempt at giving some insight into the sheer number of moving parts behind content moderation:  the movement wants off-site content to be policed which isn't so much its own barrel of fish as it is its own barrel of Cthulhu; AO3 is far from English-only and would in actuality need moderators for almost every language it supports — and most damning of all,  if Section 230 is wiped out by the Supreme Court  it is not unlikely that engaging in content moderation at all could simply see AO3 shut down.

As sucky as it seems, the current status quo really is the best situation possible. Sorry about that.

[faeflowerz]

Savanaclaw Imprinting on You

I have nothing cheeky to say. Let's do this.

Warnings: My gross misunderstanding of animals, Bullying Leona for being a big chonk

Characters: Ruggie, Jack, Leona

Ruggie imprinting on you is an "oh shit" moment for him. He lives his life so casually and when he sees you, like really sees you for the first time, he's acting unwise. Ruggie will do things for you that he wouldn't for anyone else. He doesn't ask for you to return the favor. He even shares his food.

Now this last one is particularly special for him given that he values food more than his peers. Food is how he communicates and finds pleasure. I won't get too far into the feederism side, but I think there'd be a lot of "You should eat. Have you had breakfast?"

But it's not all picnics and dandelions. Hyenas are pretty scary if you piss em off. So if one of your guy friends touches you the wrong way or tries to tease him about his sudden obsession with you, he will go on the offense. Lots of growling and hes ready to turn them into a hashtag. You gotta drag him away every single time.

"Dude, you can't just go around picking fights with everyone! What's your damage, Ruggie?"

"I wouldn’t be so mad if those assholes kept their hands off of you!"

"That's what this is about? They mess around all the time, it's not a big deal."

"It is to me! I don't like it!"

"Okay, but why though? Why would you give a fuck?" You shake your head, frustrated by the look he was giving you.

"Because I'm jealous!" He barks. "I don't want anyone else touching you but me!" Everything is quiet as you try to process what he just said.

"Ruggie...what-"

"I like...being around you all the time. And all I can think about is you. And...ugh...this is so stupid." His cheeks are cute and pink as he mumbles his way though his confession. And you, you're smiling. Seeing him get so real with you is so sweet and touching. As he's trying to justify his behavior, you place a sweet kiss on his nose. Then he's all shishishi cause he got kissed.

When Jack imprints on you, he's pretty tsundere about it. Suddenly he's hanging around you and by extension the other first years. Its not like he loves you and how you smell and the way you laugh at your dumbass friends. He just...needs to be within five feet of you at all times. Oh, and that tail? It's wagging every single time you acknowledge him or give him attention. The most antisocial boy is suddenly craving your affection.

And of course Ace is gonna clown him for it. Though it feels a little bit different. "Is there somethin you're not telling us? No fair that you two have A Thing going on the down low."

"What are you even talking about?" Jack crosses his arms, clearly trying to keep cool.

"Come on, dude. You lit up when Prefect sat next to you," Ace pouts at the both of you before calling you out too. "Are you together?!"

"Wh-what?! What would make you think that?!"

And all of your friends have examples. Waay too many. And then, Ortho says, "You know, imprinting can happen to beast men too. There's a chance that-"

"What happens between me and Prefect is our business. I didn’t ask any of you to help me confess either."

Major self report. His tail is going a trillion per hour and he realizes what he just said. "Damn it."

"Ha! I knew it!" Ace chortles.

"Wow...that was pretty bold, Jack," Epel hides his grin behind his hand. As for you...

Well, you're smiling like an idiot. It's not like you haven't been purposefully saying and doing things to see his tail wag, make his ears flicker and see him smile a little. You can't pretend to be shocked as you look at Jack for a response. "Well, I guess I should have been honest from the start..."

So there you are, resigned to be a pillow for the biggest cat you've had the misfortune of knowing. Leona loves your thighs and like hell he's going to pass up on your free period to get some sleep. You've accepted your fate, but your legs are just as comatose as he is. As you try to shift around, this catman actually whines in protest. Inside, he's praying you didn't hear it. "Stop moving," he manages to say.

So, Leona's imprinted on you. Now what? Well, you're gonna know quite quickly. Like, it's kind of not a secret since Leona is so shameless with everything he does. Though, he won't actually say "I've imprinted on you." His actions are all the confirmation you need. Actually, he's the most overbearing because he will just drag you away from whatever you're doing just to take a nap with him. Are you in the greenhouse for a class? Well, too fucking bad. Leona wants you to give him attention. You know. Like a cat.

"M'leg's asleep," you complain. "Plus you're heavy."

"Neither of these are my problem."

"You're literally responsible for both."

"You callin me fat?"

"...maybe I am," Leona opens one eye to glare up at you. He wants to be mad. But seeing you so pleased by his reaction makes him melt a little. "What? All you do is eat and sleep what else am I supposed to think?" To your surprise, he sits up. You're about to ask but he flops on top of you, sending you both into the soft patch of grass. Leona's spooning you and your face is buried in his fat (and kind of fuzzy) tits. "Seriously?!"

"Look, you're just going to have to deal with the fact that you're one of the few people I can tolerate."

He's a real piece of work, isn't he? Still, his body is kind of warm and cuddly, huh? He would probably get mad if you said that out loud though.

[kurokawaia]

❛ DADZAI?? ❜

DAD!Dazai Osamu X MUM!Reader

WC: 1k+ | WARNINGS: x fem reader, reader is a mother, dazai is a father, you both have a daughter, ooc dazai? + more

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: hihihi!!! this idea has been stuck in my head for the longest time, And I absolutely love ur writing style!!!!!!!! So I’m wondering if it’s possible for you to write a dadzai x fem!reader and he has a little daughter!! Thank u!!! - ANON

m.list | bsd m.list

Dazai would be the ultimate playful dad. He'd constantly come up with games to entertain his daughter, he'd let her win every time! he doesn't love to see his little princess sad, he wants her happy all the time. No tears around here!

Dazai’s teasing extends to both you and your daughter. He’d affectionately poke fun at the little things, like when his daughter mispronounces words or when you’re caught being overly serious.

Dazai is very protective of the both of you, your his only family, your his wife, and she's his daughter. He makes sure everything is secure, he doesn't want either of you in danger, he's always looking out for the threats, especially considering what his last job was.

Dazai would constantly shower his daughter with affection, but in the most chaotic way possible. Imagine him picking her up and spinning her around until she’s dizzy with laughter, or carrying her on his shoulders >.<

After your daughter goes to bed, Dazai loves having lovey-dovey moments with you, kissing you, hugging you, teasing you, having sex with you, he loves you all.

Dazai always be thinking of spontaneous adventures to take you and your daughter on (yes he will avoid work by doing this, he's hitting two birds with one stone) loves to watch his little girl play on the playground, making sandcastles but he glares at any boys who goes up to her.

Protective Dazai! GLARES AT THE LITTLE BOYS WHO WALK UP TO HIS LITTLE PRINCESS 😭🙏🏼

Dazai’s attempts at teaching his daughter important life lessons would often be... unorthodox. He’d tell her bizarre metaphors or use strange examples... when she's older, in her teen years, she starts talking about a double suicide as well...

When his daughter comes home with school projects or arts and crafts, Dazai gets surprisingly into it. He’d help her build the most elaborate school project.

As much as he wants to shelter his daughter, Dazai also believes in giving her independence to explore the world. He trusts that with both of your guidance, she’ll grow into someone independent.

BEDTIME STORIES!! DAZAI LOVES PULLING GUNNY VOICES WHILE READING HIS PRINCESS A STORY! He’d act out characters, make exaggerated voices, and then cuddle up with her until she falls asleep, her tiny hand clutching his 🥺

Dazai and your daughter would often conspire against you in the cutest of ways, like pretending to plan a prank or plotting a surprise just to make you laugh.

Now.... Beast!Dazai as a father...

Dazai would soften in front of his daughter, would absolutely never get mad, never yell, none of that. He is incredibly protective of the both of you, almost to the point where he is paranoid because he's scared something might happen to you and his little princess.

Though he’s a feared man in the underworld, when he’s home, he’s a completely different person with his daughter. He’ll play peek-a-boo, help her chase butterflies, and allow her to style his hair (which is why he often has bows or clips in his hair when you come home)

He’s big on teaching his daughter how to read people and situations. Even from a young age, he’ll subtly point out things like body language, tone of voice, and how to trust her instincts. He wants her to be sharp and never get hurt, he doesn't want her to suffer in a world like his

Dazai spoils you both, bringing back gifts with him after missions, flowers, toys, all of that. He loves to see his girls happy.

On nights where he can’t sleep (which is often), you’ll find him in his daughter’s room, quietly watching her sleep (NOT IN A CREEPY WAY LAMFOBSOJBVLS) Sometimes, he’ll hum lullabies from his childhood to soothe himself as much as his daughter.

You are the one person who keeps Dazai grounded. While his daughter melts his heart, you provide him with emotional stability. He’ll confide in you about his fears of failing as a father, or anything, because he knows you're there to help him, to help him do teh right things, reassure him, telling him that he's doing the best.

Dazai trains his daughter in self defense. He doesn't want her involved in the mafia, he just wants her to be able to protect herself. He only does it when his pretty wifey isn't home though... he doesn't want to get scolded for you catching him teaching her how to wield and shoot a gun

Family nights every night! Dazai never knows when his last night will be so he makes you eat together, watch a movie, reading a story to his daughter every night without a fail because he chesrishes these moments so much.

Dazai isn’t big on over-the-top displays of affection in public, but when it’s just you and him, he’ll wrap his arms around you, especially when he’s feeling vulnerable. He’ll kiss your forehead or play with your hair.

Dazai would raise his daughter to be independent. He’ll often praise her when she tries to solve problems on her own, even if it’s just something as small as putting her toys away. He wants her to grow up capable, strong enough so a man doesn't need to provide for her (even if shes an adult, dazai will never approve of a man with her)

Though Dazai is laid-back around you, once his daughter starts showing affection to other male figures, whether it's an innocent crush or just bonding with a friend, he’ll get hilariously overprotective. You’d have to reassure him that his little girl isn’t going anywhere 😭🙏🏼

He has a habit of giving his daughter cute nicknames, princess, my little girl, my little princess!

Dazai occasionally fears that he won’t be a good father because of his past and the world he’s still involved in. But you remind him that he’s doing his best, and the love he has for both you and his daughter is more than enough to prove he’s a great dad.

Dazai has a hidden soft spot for his family (obviously). You often catch him staring at both of you with a soft, almost melancholic smile, as if he can’t believe he’s found something so pure and worth protecting.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

[thehighpriestess1]

do you still do saiki smut fics? if so I would like to request Saiki who can’t keep his hands off you, he’s always touching all up on you like making u sit on his lap and have you shift on top of him. even in public, he just can’t get enough of u 🫣

sorry if it’s too much 😅

I hope you like this anon :) I hope I didn’t go overboard :)

Theme : Saiki using his powers to his benefit ;) All characters are aged up.

Warning : smut. 18+ only. Minors do not interact. Public smut.

Everyone who comes across Siki would probably describe him as a man of few words. His stoic face and calm demeanor made everyone believe that he was just a ‘chill’ guy. Even now, when he calmly agreed to have you sitting on his lap in Hairo's overfilled car. Before Kokomi could offer to switch places with you Siaki had already pulled you on his lap. You smiled at her hesitantly as you tried to adjust your short black tennis skirt.

Unbeknownst to everyone, you and Saiki had some sort of a secret relationship. Though you did not know the full extent of his power you had a vague idea that he was just different. When everyone went their separate ways after school you often found Saiki walking you to your home even though you lived on the opposite side of the town. When you forgot to do your school work, the class always ended up getting canceled. You did not know how it was happening but you had a feeling that Saiki had something to do with it. Eventually after one too many of these coincidences you confronted him and instead of confessing to making things work for you he confessed his feelings for you with a straight face. You didn’t say anything but you didn’t have to. Saiki knew.

Saiki was a completely different man behind closed doors. When in public, he did not want anything to do with anyone but behind closed doors he could not keep his hands off of you. His arms were always either wrapped around your waist or buried knuckles deep inside you. Another difference between Saiki outdoors and indoors was that while he showed a lack of energy around everyone, inside the bedroom his stamina was unmatched. He would tease and edge you for literal hours and when you’d eventually crumble at just the right touch Saiki would take you over the edge for as many times as he pleased. Somehow he knew your body perfectly, he knew when to stop and when to push for more. Never, even for a second you felt uncared for in his presence. He would groan and whine and praise you as he snapped his hips to yours. He was a passionate lover and calm best friend to you.

Even right now, On your yearly friends trip you should be talking to Everton and asking about their college life but you sat at the back quietly and watched everyone bicker over something trivial, Saiki’s arms were rubbing smooth circles over the soft skin of your thighs. He knew what he was doing. You turned your head sideways and saw Nendo passed out with a bag of chips open on his lap.

“No one will know”. Saiki whispered in your ear as he gently rocked you over his lap and you did not doubt him. His other hand snuck inside your polo t-shirt and cupped your beast over the lace bra. He put his one foot between yours and spread your legs to have you sit on top of him with your legs dangling on either side of his’. His other hand that was resting on your thigh slid in between your legs and he groaned when he felt the sticky wetness on his knuckles. He kneaded your breast with one hand and stroked your clit with the other, all the while rocking you gently over his hard on. Your mouth hung open and you swallowed your moans but Saiki didn’t want that. He wanted to hear you.

“They can’t hear us”. He whispered as he trailed kisses down your neck.

“Are…are you…sure?”. You whimpered.

Saili sucked on harshly at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and whole body twitched. “Need to hear you..trust me”.

You did. You did trust him. You let out a groan as he pulled down your lace bra and the cold air perked your nipples. No one turned around. “Fuck..Kusuo!”. You moved your hips on your own to get some friction. You clenched around nothing as Saiki continued to rub your clit over your lace underwear at an agonizing pace. “Please…need more”. You whimpered.

“You'll have to wait till we reach the hotel baby”. He smirked against your skin.

You let out another moan when you felt his clothed tip bump against your entrance. “”Tis..unfair…hotel is soo…far..fuck!”.

“What’s unfair is how you were stuck by Hairo’s side when your own boyfriend sat next to you”.

You groaned in frustration, “I was just…talking”.

“Why don’t you talk to him now? Should I let him hear you right now?”.

“No no no. Please”. You closed your eyes in frustration and decided that two can play this game.

You brought your legs forward and snuck your hand under your skirt and lifted up your ass to pull down the garment. Saiki kept his hand on yours but you swatted it away. You shimmied it down and when it reached your ankles you slowly bent down, causing the back of your skirt to lift up and give Saiki the view of your plump butt that he oh so loved and at the same time you grinded against him. When you straightened up you put the underwear in the pockets of his track pants. Saiki let out a sinful groan and you knew you had him.

“You’re teasing me”. He breathed out, running his finger through your folds.

“You started it”. You knew that his resolve was not going to crumble but you were not going to make it easy for him either. You rolled your hips and moaned his name while your one hand gripped his over your breast your other stroked his hard length.

“Fuck. You’re not making it easy for yourself”.

You chuckled. “No. I am going to make it so so so hard for you”. You spread your legs wider and leaned back on his chest and opened the top buttons of your polo giving him a view of your tits underneath. “Like what you see?”. You winked at him.

“Fuck..yes”.

“I wish you could suck on them as you filled me with your cock..”. You said sweetly.

“Don’t..stop it”. He warned.

“Why? I just want you to fuck me so hard that I pass out”. You arched your back and pouted at him. “I know you like it when my tits bounce,don’t you?”

He groaned plunged two of his fingers inside you and it made your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Is this what you wanted?”, He teased you.

“Fuck..yes yes yes..please”.

“You know that you can’t cum till we reach the hotel, right?”.

“Mmmmmm I’m about to Please let me..please…”.

“What will I Get ,baby?”.

“Anything…anything..please don’t stop..so close..please”.

Saiki smiled. He didn’t even want anything from you. He liked you like this. So dependent on him. He curled his fingers just right and with three more pumps you were gushing all over his finger and screaming his name.

“Such a good girl. My good girl”. He whispered as you caught your breath. Your body was still twitching and your mind felt fuzzy.

“Now, you are going to fall asleep and when you’ll wake up we’ll be in our hotel room and I’ll get what I want”. He winked and kissed the side of your head and your passed out.

[letternotekisses]

HIII May I request some Reaper headcanons pls? Idc if it's fluff or nsfw headcanons, or even both idc, choose whatever you're in the mood to write! I just need content about that man and as I love how you writee, then ....<3

i wanna fuck that old man so bad....<3 nsfw under da cut and also cw 4 stalking, kidnapping mention, free use & size kink and general yandere-ish behaviour

Reaper is all sharp edges, and its no different when he's dragging a clawed gauntlet down your cheek - reddening the soft flesh when he squeezes you harshly enough to make your lips pout. He's all growls, but for you? It's different, it's still a low, timbering rumble in his chest - but he's not trying to intimidate you, no - he's just staking his claim, you see. Once he's decided that you belong to him, there's nothing stopping him from getting what he wants.

Overwhelmingly possessive - if you work alongside him in Talon, Reaper makes it a hobby to follow you all over base, leering from a shadowed corner if you spend a little too much time talking to one of Talon's many replaceable grunts. You don't see them again, and Gabe seems a little too pleased with himself as of late. If you're a civilian, he's also not above following you home - shadow-stepping into your room to steal a few pairs of underwear souvenirs to keep him company before he decides on the right time to snatch you away.

He expects you to be ready for him at all times, materialising behind your back in a cloud of wispy smoke - his clawed gauntlets prying your soft thighs apart and tearing at the fabric covering what he wants. Gabriel will part your folds and bury his fat cock inside in one smooth motion, holding you upright by grabbing the soft fat of your hip. He's thick, pulsing hotly between your legs in a way that warms you up and makes you melt like putty against his chest. He loves to fuck you silly - wrapping an elbow around your neck so he can keep you in place as he bullies your poor hole to the point where you're begging and whimpering at him for mercy.

He seems rather harsh, but it's easy to psyche him out through his jealousy - wear a shorter skirt, or maybe even a tighter top - give Akande a good eyeful while you converse and Gabe just so happens to be in the room. Although, I must point out that when teasing the Reaper, you must be prepared for the consequences. This includes having your hair fisted in his grip as he shoves his meaty cock down your throat, tears fluttering on the ends of your lashes as you choke around him, spit dribbling down your chin messily. And he won't let you off easy, pulling you back so you can whine at him to fuck you, grinding against his boot like a needy whore.

Despite his rough and tumble demeanour - Reaper does treasure you. I like to think there is still a hint of the old Gabriel Reyes in the midst of all that hot topic clothing. When the sun goes down, he holds you like glass, as if you might melt away like sand through his fingertips. It's sweet and fleeting, but as long as he's still standing, you'll be safe under him.

Even before Moira's experiments, the SEP programme had bulked Gabe up quite a bit. As Reaper - he's a beast, all broad and bulky muscle clad in dark robes. He loves being able to overpower you a little bit too much, he loves how his hand covers the expanse of your hip almost entirely, how he can hold you up with one hand as he ploughs you into the floor...he's obsessed. He uses it to his advantage, manhandling you so he can press himself deeper into your sweet cunt, hitting that spot that makes you squeal and squeeze down on him tighter than he could ever curl his own fist. God, you're so sweet and soft under him - he'd keep you warming his cock forever, if he could.

[riddlesb1tch]

Scarred Stars

Cassian x reader

summary: reader asks Cassian about how he got the scar on his brow.

warnings: mentions of war and fighting.

a/n: creds to @throneofsmut for the title!!!!!

You sat on Cassian’s lap, doing the nighttime skincare routine you had forced on him. You shuddered thinking about how he lived before he'd met you. This male did not know the difference between hand wash and face wash and would use literally whatever to wash his face. 

“As long as it's soap, it’s fine,” he’d say. 

One day you asked him, “Cassie you know laundry detergent is soap, right? Would you use that?” 

Thank the mother he shook his head because you had fully expected him to say it got the job done. Weirdly enough, even after washing his face with hand soap for the longest time, his skin remained a beautiful bronze with barely any blemishes. However, you knew he would not appreciate it if he ever did break out. 

When he got a pimple once, he refused to show you his face properly, saying he didn’t want you to see him like that. After that incident, you’d devised a skincare routine for Cassian that took care of his skin enough to prevent breakouts but wasn’t so long that he would be too tired or lazy to do it. One time, however, he was simply exhausted after a long day and was ready to go to bed without even washing his face. So you had offered to do his skincare for him. It was one of the most domestic and intimate moments of your relationship and since then, it has become both of your favourite part of your nighttime routine. 

Currently, you were sitting on Cassian’s lap having just done his skincare when you’d asked if you could pluck his eyebrows a little because a couple of stray hairs were bothering you. He’d said no initially but as soon as you settled comfortably on his lap with the tweezers, he seemed on board immediately. 

“Stop moving, Cassie,” you mumbled, resting one hand on his cheek while tweezing out stray brow hairs with the other. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled back. You could feel his gaze on your face and your cheeks heated up. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, making eye contact with the most adoring look you’d ever seen on his face. 

His hands moved up and down your sides as he blurted, “I love you.” 

You blushed, a big smile taking over your features. “I love you more,” you replied, gently holding his face between your hands and kissing his lips softly. You smiled and rested your forehead on his after pulling away and Cassian breathed deeply, holding you even closer. After a few seconds of silence, you placed a lingering kiss on his forehead before resuming plucking his brows. 

When you got to the left eyebrow, you delicately stroked the scar running down from his eyebrow to his cheekbone. Cassian closed his eyes in the comfort of having you touch him. 

“You’ve never told me how you got this,” you mumbled.  

He opened his eyes, looking up at you with saddened eyes. 

“It's not really a happy story,” he replied. 

Your brows furrowed in curiosity. “What happened?” you asked, arms looping around his neck. 

“Well, you know about the conflict that happened between Rhysand’s and Tamlin’s families, right?” he said. You nodded. “It happened when Rhysand and his father snuck into Spring so they could have an advantage. Obviously, I accompanied them.” 

You nodded along to his story. 

“The fight was…ugly, to say the least,” he looked away as if the memories still haunted him. 

You lovingly stroked his hair in empathy, letting him know you were there and he didn’t need to talk about it if he didn’t want to. 

“But basically when we were fighting, Tamlin tried to kill me,” he said. Immediately your body stiffened and rage filled your bones. 

Cassian held you just a bit tighter, rubbing soothing circles into your waist to calm you down. He understood the protective instincts the mating bond entailed and reassured you that it was all in the past now. 

“He was in his beast form so his claws were out. He was clawing at my face but I ducked away. The claws did scrape my face pretty good, though, and so I was left with this scar,” he gestured to it. 

You hummed in acknowledgement, taking in his expression. 

“I’ve tried to get rid of it,” he shrugged. Your brows furrowed in confusion. “But even Madja said there’s nothing that can be done. The marks came from a powerful and magical creature, so they’re gonna stay there forever,” he sighed. 

“But why try to get rid of it?” you asked. 

“Because I hate it,” he stated. “It's a constant reminder of the loss this court endured that day, of the loss my brother endured that day,” he shook his head sadly, dismissing it. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter now.” 

You shook your head adamantly. “Cassie,” you said gently and he turned his face back to you. “It's a reminder of how you stood up for your family,” you said with a small smile. “Of the day you went into another court to avenge those you loved. That is something to be proud of, my love.” 

Cassian looked at you with the same adoration again, this time with a small smile. “You think so?” 

You nodded. 

“It's just a bonus that the scar makes you look crazy hot,” you said to lighten the mood. 

Cassian laughed. “Yeah?” 

“I love that scar so much. Even more so now that I know how you got it.” You leaned in and kissed the scar running down his face, starting at his forehead, going down to his brow, to his eyelid, and lastly, his cheekbone. 

“I love you so much,” he said when you pulled away. 

“I love you more,” you replied. 

a/n: I'm not anti tam tam but I just thought of this story and needed to write it.

tags: @milswrites @sarawritestories @berryzxx @thelov3lybookworm

Masterlist

[deinodevilmaus]

And here we have one of my Siren designs!

This is my design for the siren masquerading as Penelope in EPIC: The Musical, the Thunder Saga by Jorge Rivera-Herrans

I dearly hope you all like it!

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Nu carnival x top amab werewolf reader

Warnings: language, monster fucking, knot, stomach bulge, cum

Yakumo

You can not knot him the first time you fuck! Yes he loves all of you, but you will rip the poor boy in half! He really wants to take all of you to show how much he loves you. He's scared at first because of your size but after you help him relax it's okay. After you both finish it doesn't matter if you are tied or not, he will fall asleep snuggled into your fur. You're always cautious about not hurting him with your teeth or claws and he's always grateful for your gentleness.

Edmond

I've said it before and I'll say it again. He. Was. Born. To. Bottom. It takes a little effort to fit your fat knot in his tight hole but once you do it stretches perfectly to fit you. He's so full and his little whimpers are like music to your beastly ears. He says he prefers sex in your human form but you can smell how much more excited he is when you shift. Little liars get fucked a little harder.

Olivine

Please knot him. Please he wants you to fill his ass so bad. The slight pain from your knot stretching his ass to the limit makes him see stars! He goes dumb on your dick it feels so good. He loves you no matter what form but he will beg you to let him take your knot. He loves the full feeling of being knotted and resting against you. Use your sharp claws to pull at his chains or pinch his nipples when he's trying to catch his breath. He'll cum a few times before you deflate.

Quincy

Oh sweet sweet primal fucking! You two play fight to see who will top (his idea) if he wins he will fuck your sweet ass in either form, if you win though you have to take him in whatever form won. So far only your wolf form has been strong enough to take him. It won't end until both of you are covered in bite marks and scratches, and he is properly filled with your knot and cum. Be rough he can take it, just know he's going to be rough back.

Kuya

Just so you know he has made a dildo copy of your knotted dick. He uses it when you aren't around (and he misses you). Pray you don't find it because this sly fox will use it on you instead. He'll have you fuck him with your own knot in your ass. Just because you are fucking him doesn't mean he won't still target your weak spots. He will rub the base of your tail or nip your ears, anywhere that will excite you further. Wreck him. He deserves it.

Blade

He does not see the difference between you and a normal person. He does however feel the difference when you fuck his synthetic brains out with your giant knotted dick. Fuck you make him feel so good darling. Be thankful your werewolf form has more stamina because he can go for a long time.

Garu

He's so small compared to your wolf form. You can see his stomach bulge a little after you knot and fill his ass with cum. Thankfully being a wolf as well he is built for this. He takes your knot so well like the good boy he is! Praise him, pet him, and fuck him good.

Karu

He tries to make a deal like “I'll take your knot if you take mine”. After you fuck him really good that deal kind of goes out the window. His knot is not as big as yours because of his humanoid body. It was something he was self conscious about before, but now he doesn't care because you feel so good in his ass.

Dante

Given his beast tamer status everyone expects him to top no matter what form you are in… but that's not always true. He has let you top only a few times and when he does its amazing. He lets you leave your marks all over his body as they mix with his tattoos. The only thing he hasn't let you do is knot him. He's always worried about danger coming from the dead zone and can't take the risk of being stuck on your knot if anything were to happen. Maybe one day he'll let you fill his ass properly, but not yet. He wants your knot but can't justify the risk.

Rei

Fuck him up. He talks a lot of shit and the best way to shut him up is to replace his words with moans. Honestly I can't tell if he antagonizes you just for the fun of it or because he wants you to fuck him rough. Whatever it is he's into it. He knows you're still human but he's got a thing for you going a little primal and acting on instinct. When you stop using your brain it makes him feel more comfortable not using his.

Eiden

Well this is definitely new for him. In his world you are a fantasy and one he is so excited to try! His mouth is watering the minute he sees you excited. He will take your big werewolf dick any way he can. Oral, anal, hand job, any way he can think of. Of course anal is his favorite but he has to at least try everything once. It was difficult for him at first to fit all of you in his ass but Eiden is nothing if not determined. Either way he loves sex with you, whether in human or werewolf form.

Aster

Who says werewolves and vampires have to fight? Sometimes they fuck instead. His bites are so much more sensitive when you are in wolf form and he takes full advantage of that. He doesn't prefer to be knotted mostly because he doesn't like feeling stuck. He will let you occasionally but you have to really get on his good side first. A little bribery goes a long way when you have puppy eyes.

Morvay

Yup he's great right now. He loves both your forms but goes feral when you dick him down in your wolf form! He will happily sit impaled on your knot for hours. Whenever the knot shrinks he will moan the dirtiest things in your ear to keep you hard. You make so much werewolf cum that he should be full for days but he's always wanting more.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Male Monster Musume: Feeding The Beasts Pt. III

Last Part

“Good Morning, (Y/n). Are you ready to spend the day together?”

As you expected, Centoreo was so much easier. Waking up in a timely matter with a warm cup of tea or coffee. It was relaxing, being able to rely on someone else. Able to serve little biscuits and cucumber slices without burning the house down. It wasn’t too often that you got such a quiet morning for yourself.

“Thanks, Centoreo, I appreciate it.”

“No problem, (Y/n)! As my Master, it’s a given that on my day; we’ll get to relax together.”

Sitting across from each other on the newly installed tatami mats. The morning’s light shining through the window gently warmed your face. It was quiet between you two. A tad too quiet.

Centoreo was still smiling at you. 

Constantly smiling as you began to get nervous.

“Uh so?”

“So what, my Master?”

“....I don’t know…what’ve you been up to?”

He sighed, “Only counting down the hours until my day was here.”

A mirth smile spread across your face as you imagined the sight of Centoreo waiting anxiously by a clock. You took another sip of your drink admiring his stylized room. Coming to realize there’s no clock within the room you turned back to the centaur.

“You don’t have a clock in here.”

“I do not. Back home we centaurs are taught to dictate the time by the sun or better yet to count the hours in a day.”

“Wow, I didn’t know that. That’s pretty hardcore.”

“Thank you, Master!”

“Do you guys also get trained with the sword?”

You missed the way his eyes widened and the way his hands twitched. He tilted his head when he asked his question.  

“Excuse me?”

“Like don’t centaurs get swords? I’m sure you couldn’t bring a real one with you but still.”

Centoreo hesitated, “Some do but aren’t swords considered archaic in today's age?”

Shoot. 

You mentally kicked yourself. In the anime, Cerea was very upfront about her sword replica. Having it on her waist or drawing it the second she felt necessary. It was a big part of her character. But now that you thought about it Centoreo had no such thing, even with the way you both met; chasing criminals and using the sword just wasn’t a part of it. Supposedly that had happened before you even met up with him. So without your prior knowledge, this line of questioning seemed completely out of left field. Your best chance now was to do damage control.

“Uhm yes, but I thought Centaurs preferred a more traditional type of learning and lifestyle. Like the way you chose a master.”

Centoreo seemed to nod as he accepted your lie coverup. Clapping his hands in confirmation.

“I see, how you might have thought that! But you’re not wrong, we do get a myriad of training with different weapons and I do have one.”

“A replica? Neat!”

Centorea dwelled in your excitement,” Would you like to see my sword?”

At that moment the door to Centoreo’s room slams open and in a flurry of blue feathers and a scaly tail, the two other monster transfer students barged in. Both are standing guard in front of you blocking your sight from the centaur. 

“No! There will be no showing any ‘swords’ of yours! Not before mine!”

“Yeah! I want to show my sword too! We’re not going to let you get away with it.”

You could hear his polite chuckles from behind his hand, “Oh so you don’t want (Y/n) to protect themselves?”

“Yes! I mean, wait–”

“Of course not! That’s my job!”

“No you bird brain! He’s talking about some weapon he brought overseas with him.”

“Oh…I already thought your rear-end was enough of a weapon.”

“Pypi!”

The harpy had a nonchalant expression as you scolded him while coughing to hide the snicker that threatened to spread on your face. The lamia immediately began to coil around himself in laughter, making it easy for the red-in-the-face centaur to push most of him out the door. 

With a huff, Centoreo shut his door and locked it. When he turned to you he had an angry blush at the smile you were failing to cover. 

“I’m sorry, Centoreo…but if you’re still willing to show me I’d love to see.”

A small smile spread on his face as he turned back to you. Guiding you to stand over a specific floorboard he revealed a hidden case that robotically raised out of the ground and showed a myriad of weapons…some of which were not all that traditional.

“And this is my 177 Caliber BB Gun Air Pistol…it’s not incredibly new but it’s close enough to what I’m comfortable with.”

“Oh wow….”

“What’s with that face?”

“It’s just that I didn’t think guns counted as traditional weaponry.”

He laughed, “It’s alright, that’s what we’re here for. To learn about each other.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

That was a really good point. The anime made a point to use the laws and societal changes to move the plot. It was mostly about how the girls were fitting into the human world, with their love interest somehow being all-knowing about their idiosyncrasies. Granted there were some exceptions but it wasn’t a major theme to learn in-depth about their cultures. 

You thought that was cool. 

“If you’d like I can teach you how to shoot it.”

“Really?"

"Of course.”

Sooner than you realized it you found yourself in the position of every male protagonist during a pool game. Trying to hyper-focus on the gun you were holding instead of the muscular chest on the back of your head as well as the hands supporting your back. While you could only see the target board you could feel the warmth of his breath as he gave his advice.

“Don’t close your eye, and use the sight to aim. That’s it. You’re doing perfectly my Master.”

This was a lot more than you were expecting.

Crttt Crttt Crttt Crttt

A grating sound broke the moment, thankfully. Bringing both of you to look at the curiously opened door, With only a crack wide enough for furiously yellow-slitted eyes and a fanged set of teeth gritting against each other. Centoreo let out an uncharacteristically long groan before excusing himself out of his room. 

“My Master I’ll return shortly, after I speak with…them.”

“But it’s okay I can talk to him–”

“No no dear it’s fine. Just keep practicing, I’ll be just a moment.”

The Japanese-style door slides shut and you can’t help but expect to hear screaming and sounds of a fight. But there was nothing. After a few minutes had passed you began to feel bored with just shooting the air-gun. Finally putting it down you left his room, poking your head out into the hall and finding no one. Searching around you found the monster boys in the living room with 2 of them sleeping peacefully on the couch. Centoreo was standing over them pulling a blanket over their forms, before turning to you.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, my master.”

“Ah, it’s okay. I’m surprised they’d fall asleep so easily.”

Centoreo shrugged before perking up with an idea.

“(Y/n). I wanted to ask if maybe we could meal prep together. I was hoping we could be…adventurous with the vegetables this time since we usually cater to them.”

“Sure I don’t mind, though I don’t think they’d be too interested in what we make.”

“I have a feeling they’ll sleep through dinner, I convinced them to eat something hearty before they slept.”

You decided not to question the weird timing. 

“Then let’s have fun, shall we?”

“Perfect!”

______________________________________________________________

You both most certainly did. Able to even light a candle or two while you enjoyed the roasted and sauteed veggies you’d both made. As Centoreo predicted they did sleep through dinner, letting you both enjoy a quiet and peaceful evening together. It was hard to be cautious when he was just so sweet. It might have made you soften up a bit when it came to him.

“Centoreo you don’t have to call me master all the time.”

“Then what should call you then?”

“My name or some other nickname. I don’t really care. Milo’s got like a thousand for me.”

“I want you to pick what I’ll call you. Otherwise, I’ll just stick to master. Or your name, both are really important to me.”

“You’re so stubborn.”

“It’s a quality of a good knight. Cheers.”

Even as the night began to close you were almost certain he’d abashedly ask you to snuggle in his bed with him. But he politely offered to let you relax offering to watch your phone and clothes while you headed to the bath. It’s become a bit of an issue with Milo and Pypi taking advantage of your unattended clothes. Even though they were asleep you were hesitant to let him. Cerea was still a prominent member of the harem; it wouldn’t be unheard of that he was as dangerously interested in you as Milo and Pypi. But you might have wanted to take advantage of the unattended bath…without the possible intrusion…an opportunity so hard to pass up.

“Okay but don’t do anything weird. I’ll be out in a bit.”

He smiled graciously as though a halo was meant to appear. “Of course, I’m here to help. Enjoy your bath.”

A refreshing bath later and a final cup of tea. You bid Centoreo goodnight as you shut your metal door. 

The schedule worked. The strengthening of your bonds was important to hopefully disassembling and keeping a reign on the alternate versions of the monster girls. This could work if you kept this up, not to mention the later events of the anime. Maybe pushing past their insecurities would be the way to go. 

Things were looking up. 

___________________________________________________________

Blonde strands of hair cascaded over Centoreo’s face as he glared at the messages from the agent. Looking down at the contact he scrolled through the text history, with scrunched brows. He felt disgusted as he glared at the mail he’d intercepted. 

It was an opt-out form.

The letter of allowance is meant to let the host peacefully transfer their guardianship to another. 

He was already burning the added note from the agent jovially informing him of his new promotion. There were other disturbing litigations in cursive but Centoreo deemed it all unworthy of thought. Taking only the main points to heart. 

“Did you really think you have a chance? While I’m here?  Please.”

It was a minor concern, that another tenant was going to arrive. This would be returned to the mailbox. The others could be burned. 

“It’s only a matter of time. Bide your time Centoreo. It will all be worth it then.”