#no one can see how many wips you have no one can judge you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daydreamsandcrashingwaves · 1 month

Text

KICTTC 5

I'm BACK helloooo! Oh my goodness friends! I have so much to tell you all! So I kinda was collar grabbed by this story so my edit of chapter 4 is SO different from what I posted here, SOOOOO I'm posting a bit of the edited Ch4 so no one misses out on plot! ahhh I've been so excited to share this all with you!!!! Transference chapter 3 is in the works as well as a secret WIP! I really wanna focus of my first two stories though so Idk when that will be up or what an update schedule might look like.

Anyways the Angst is strong, the trauma and body horror is as strong as the blasphemous tea I brew, read at your own leisure I aint yo mama lol

Stay safe, give yourself grace, take your meds, get some sun, burrow in a blanket nest, drink water and eat a snack lovelies!

~Ren

Once Danny makes a decision he throws himself in head first, this will be no different. Danny has to start at the beginning. He must tell them everything to have a hope of them understanding how Danny ended up dropping through a portal to his brother’s side. For… their family to understand what true danger hunts him even now.

Dick sips his cup of coffee only to look at it betrayed when it’s bitter and cold. He has been in Bruce’s study watching the live feed of the recovery room for hours. He managed to drag himself to bed when Alfred had insisted but his dreams had been plagued with Danyal trembling on the floor, knife hilt deep in his small neck, the sight of them in the doorway had made him panic and then he was bleeding out, his breath gurgling in his throat as he died. It was an awful way to wake up and he couldn’t even go check on Danyal in person! Damian had cashed in a lot of the blackmail he’s kept on them to keep them away. While Dick was proud of his little brother’s emotional growth, seeing their youngest in person would go a long way for Dick to shake off his nightmare. He is a bat though so he will endure, especially because this involves his family, his brothers.

As the sun started dipping below the horizon behind the curtains Tim walked into the study with two large cups filled to the top with coffee, one with a ton of sugar and cream the other plain black coffee, “Awe Timmy! You brought me coffee!” Dick snatches the plain one up with a smirk.

Tim just grumbles at his grabby hands and relinquishes the cup. He shuffles over to the couch and pulls out his laptop to work on something- Dick isn’t sure where Tim had managed to safely carry the computer with two fresh coffees- and promptly ignores the others as they file in the next ten or so minutes. Judging by the dark circles under everyone’s eyes, sleep was hard to come by.

Bruce is slumped into his chair watching the twins. No one breaks the silence. Dick eyes Jason from where his brother has propped himself against the wall out of the way Their father’s shoulders are tense in anger. So Talia is probably giving him the slip. He can’t help but feel resentment for the woman who keeps secrets that hurt his family. She knows that people don’t always stay dead. When Jason died, the only reason Dick had to face it, recognize that his little brother was dead was because they had his body as sure proof he had been murdered. Dick has seen many times how Bruce grieves and it’s never good. Adding in a twin? Bruce is holding himself together with sheer will power and meticulous training. Bruce might be almost impossible to read but he was the first boy to be adopted. He has more Bruce experience than anyone else in the family but Alfred. He can see the cracks.

Turning back to the screen Dick lets out a little coo at the image. Damian is awake and is looking at Danyal like he’d disappear from under the blanket they share. The boy carefully extracts himself to use the restroom that’s tucked away in the corner. When he comes back onto the screen he is changed into his sweatpants and a t-shirt Dick recognizes as his own. He also spots a change of clothes for Danyal in his arms, which he sets on the side table next to the bed before Damian goes around refilling the water pitcher and glass to be ready for use, setting fresh towels out.

Turning his attention to the younger boy, he can see how sickly the boy is when they’re side by side to compare. His pale skin shows off the dark veins underneath, his cheeks are caving into his face, all his baby fat eaten away, dark bruises under his eyes, and with how injured he was… it’s not telling a pretty story. Dick is confident that if Danyal hadn’t dropped out of the rafters in that warehouse they’d never know he could’ve been out there. He desperately needed help even if he hadn’t realized it yet. Bruce and Dick watch Damian crawl back into bed, Danny doesn’t wake but he does turn towards where Damian has frozen owl-eyed. An arm snags the bottom edge of Damian’s shirt and like a signal the rest of his limbs follow to entwine them together. It’s very cute. With a smirk Dick takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture. It’s unlikely to truly upset Damian since it’s probably the only picture that they have of the twins together right now, but however Damian responds when he knows the picture exists will be satisfying.

“Are we gonna get on with it or just sit in silence with our thumbs up our asses?” Jason glares, looking significantly more tense. He stares down the room while crossing his arms across his chest.

Dick sees Bruce’s shoulders square up like he’s bracing for a physical punch instead of the verbal jab. Batman has an almost obsessive need to know everything he can about a situation, it was one of his many lessons that they as his children made into muscle memory. Knowledge made carefully crafted contingency plans that kept their family safe on and off the streets. Something to hold, to have in reserve for when they need it. To be thrown so many unknowns in the shape of a brother was unsettling them all.

“Jason.” Dick throws him a disappointed look from where he stands by Bruce, placing a hand on his shoulder to diffuse the argument that would shortly explode. “Danyal hasn’t been conscious, he hasn’t had the chance to explain anything yet, has he?” He raises his eyebrow at his brother. The family might not always reach an agreement on, well most things, but Dick knows his younger brother cares. He does. He won’t admit it but he’s here. Red Hood sticks to Crime Alley, looking after his people and- though he won’t claim them- his kids. One glance at Danyal’s wounded, still form was all it took to gain his loyalty. Red Hood liked to take his aggression out on those who disrespect his claim. Jason’s impulse to run off and hunt the monsters who could harm a child this way was poorly hidden. Dick understood the feeling so he didn’t push further.

Jason sneered at his words but didn’t bite back, just turned his impatient gaze towards Tim. “I’m sure Tim has been doing more digging than sleeping.”

Bruce inhales sharply drawing all of their attention. He’s looking at the monitor, hitting the unmute, Damian’s voice floods the room. “I simply meant you only have to tell me what has happened since we were separated… Once, here. I-We had thought you would prefer what privacy we can afford while we determined who had made the grave mistake of harming you. The family, while well intentioned, can be overwhelming. It is difficult gathering everyone and having them sit quietly for extended periods of time and our family is… large.”

Damian’s description brought a small smile to Dick’s face. Danyal’s quiet reply dimmed the edges because he sounded so young.

The whole group shifted and was laser focused on their new family member. Dick can’t think of any way to describe this whole situation as wrong as he took in what he could see.. It had nothing to do with Danny himself, or maybe it was more accurate to say whatever made his newly claimed baby brother look like that was what was firing off all his finely honed warning bells. A glance around at the others makes it clear they’re all, for once, on the same page.

If Bruce’s glare could kill the poor monitor would’ve been smoking at this point. Danyal was clearly at the end of his rope. Dick will admit as much as it irks him Damian was right to sequester the recovery room and keep Danyal in a calm area. They watch in horror as Danyal starts to speak. He was hesitant and nervous at first but slowly gained confidence when Damian didn’t react adversely.

The rest of them didn’t have to restrain themselves.

“What the actual fuck?” That’s Tim’s angry voice, Dick shutters. He sounds like he’s already started on researching his shit list by the furious tapping that comes from the couch. Drs Fenton, the Ghost Investigation Ward, and Vlad Masters can’t possibly know what is coming for them. Dick isn’t sure whether to step in when Jason sinks down into the couch next to their younger brother and they immediately start whispering between themselves.

He decides after a long look at the twins murmuring to each other that he would rather check on Bruce. “B?”

The man that stands firm against Gotham’s most unsavory rogues, looks back at him lost. His eyes get drawn back to his sons on the screen, “He’s so small Dick. I-” It’s rare Bruce breaks in composure and Dick’s chest squeezes. His father looks haunted.

“We’re here for him now, B.” He says gently. There are no words he could say that can erase what is already done.

They listen to Tim and Jason in the background while watching Damian help Danyal get out of bed. Once on his feet Danyal waves his twin away. He’s weak and shaky but they breathe a bit easier when his legs don’t give out underneath his body weight. The short walk to the bathroom door seemed to have winded him. Danyal reaches for the wall and presses into it while he pauses. And pauses.

Damian hasn’t rushed to his side so Dick tries not to panic. He probably needs a moment to gather himself. “Do you think we need to send Alfred down?” He asks Bruce.

“What?” Tim and Jason both looked up at him in tandem.

“Danyal! He was- well he is- fine. But look! He’s all hunched like he can’t breathe right? Why is Damian just watching?” Dick frets wringing his hands.

Attention diverted from their plans of destruction the two leave the couch and crowd around Bruce’s desk.

“Oh fuck!” Tim curses, roughly rolling Bruce’s chair away from the keyboard. “I don’t know how they did it but I think the feed was paused, or spliced or looped. I’m trying to override it- Ah! I got it!”

The feed clears and they all blink at the empty room. The bathroom door is open and Danyal’s things that were by the door are gone.

Bruce jumps out of his chair. “What were they doing right before?”

Tim pulls up the saved file and finds the moments right before the glitch. “They’re hugging?” A few lines of code and Tim has the background volume boosted. A hushed conversation in Arabic reaches their ears.

“Okay Danyal, I understand and will help you,” Damian studies his brother for a moment, “how can I help you best in this moment Danyal, what is it you want.”

They watch Danyal look around at the room, fear leaking in now that he’s not focused on the boy with him. “I can’t be here. I won’t heal.”

Bruce flinches like Danyal had hit him.

They embraced, and whatever else was said was too muffled to pick up.

They watch entranced, like a bruise you can’t help but press on, as the scene plays out and ends with Danyal leaning against the wall.

“They can’t have gotten far, the demon brat wouldn’t risk hurting his precious twin, Dickie-Bird and I can fetch the chicks that flew the nest.” Jason sighs.

Bruce’s phone rings and they all look at it with reluctance. That’s Oracle’s ringtone so it’s important. Dick swipes the device and answers with a quick, “O, we’ve got a situation, please tell me this is important.”

“Yeah it is,” Barbra agrees, “if you guys were gonna patrol why wasn’t I looped in, huh?”

Dick exchanges a confused look with the others. “Uh no, O, we agreed no patrol tonight, Black Bat, Signal, and Spoiler were our covers.”

“Then why is the Batmobile headed towards the edge of town?”

They, with years of experience fighting side by side, spring in sync for the hidden entrance and pile into the elevator to the cave to change and to track down their brothers.

~~~~~~~

Gotham was unusually muggy this evening. Bruce could feel the sweat drip down his scalp and his suit was already damp. Breath blazed through his lungs yet brought him no warmth. He had to suppress his instinct to shiver. Fear was all he could feel. It was bone chillingly familiar. Nothing like Scarecrow’s toxin yet he was still sinking deeper into glacier littered water. As Batman, Bruce has taken many hits, faced the cruel underbelly of Gotham from the shadows and had said enough. Birthed from vengeance and relentlessly courting justice, he gets back up, keeps moving, doesn’t stay down even when he probably should. No one else had managed to stand against the city’s rogues. Every night he embraces their seething rage that blistered the streets and exploded buildings. Batman turns towards danger, not away. He is the shield that protects his city's people from the impact the best he can. It’s never enough. Batman has flung himself head first into a race that had long since started.

In the rare hours he is alone surrounded by the soft glow of the Batcomputer and the quiet rustling of sleeping bats he can admit, those first years, he had enjoyed the vicious fights. Tangoing with death each night. He was entranced, he would dance until the curtain dropped. It was a destructive cycle he couldn’t escape. As he’s aged his compulsion to run off has cooled, and it was only after the first time Dick got more than just a few bruises did he realize the true cost. Even if he couldn’t stop them, perhaps he should’ve tried harder to work with his children to ensure their safety. A family of vigilantes was a double edged blade. His curse to bear. The curse he spread. Every night his heart is split into pieces and goes with them as they stalk their prey from within the shadows. His children amaze terrify him in how they’ve all risen to fight back the miasma that threatens to swallow Gotham whole.

He doesn’t know Danyal, has never learned what his favorite breakfast is or seen him off to school. They have never shared late night training sessions. His youngest has never fallen asleep sequestered away in his own world working on a case and for Bruce to find him and tuck him into bed like he has with all of his children at least once. No. He was never given a chance. Danyal’s existence was hidden from him. His death was a secret Damian was manipulated into thinking he had to carry the weight alone. And people believed Batman to be some sort of legendary detective. If Bruce was less controlled he might scoff at the thought. He missed things, big and small, all the time. Most often it was his children that were affected by his carelessness, his lack of understanding.

He knows what it is to lose a son. In death and because of his own parental ineptitude. Bruce knows what it is for his world to spin out from under his feet and to let his rage blindly guide him. Bruce risks a glance at Jason, his walking, talking, breathing miracle. Why couldn’t he just say that to the person who needed to hear it. Jason had died, it was awful, truly awful. As an adult he has never felt so lost. Jason was only a child. A brilliant, bright, life snuffed out in the cruelest way only for some universal hiccup to thrust his soul back into body and for Talia to pick him up. They’ve never talked about the Y-incision that spans his entire torso. Jason hadn’t intended for him to see it. Bruce doesn’t know who is responsible. He doesn’t know if they dare breathe another breath on Earth. He’s afraid to ask. He’s afraid of what he’ll do if they aren’t already dead. No, the only thing he knew about it was what Jason had deliriously shared with him while sick with whooping cough. The cut may have happened but that was as far as they got. His ribs remained intact, his organs undisturbed. Bruce has to trust Jason told him the truth. Bruce hadn’t had the strength to imagine alternatives.

He has no choice now. Whatever Danyal’s journey has been, wherever he’s been. Bruce despairs that his youngest’s life journey has been too similar to Jason’s. Danny had listed off to Damian the multitude of injuries he had and Bruce just knew. Two of his sons have been dehumanized, valued as objects for other’s use, to state their curiosity. His youngest didn’t just get cut into, as despicable as that already was, no, he was awake, aware, alive as some sick fuck rooted around behind his ribs. (Half-alive. His gut rolls at the implications yet it brings none of his usual suspicions to draw his attention to what his son was hiding. Only he wasn’t hiding, not from the Wayne family. No, he had shared everything with very little prompting from Damian. Danyal was running from them) Bruce could only stare at the screen in his office in horror. How fast did his regenerative ability work to regrow his harvested organs? Did he have to break wrongly healed bones and had to hold them in place until they healed enough for him to escape or did his bones snap forcefully into place on their own-

It’s a race against time now. Danyal is in no condition to be on the run. It would crush him to send him away but Bruce would. He can find a secure place away from him for his son if that’s what it took to make him feel safe enough to rest. Recovery needs to be his number one priority, he had been slowly relaxing with Damian yet as soon as he wasn’t disoriented he fled. What does that say about how he thinks they’ll treat him? What does it say about Bruce that Damain felt he could better protect his twin alone?

Bruce forces himself to reach for his comms and connects to the main comm line they use for patrols. “Everyone, change of plans, keep your eyes open for both boys. They fled from the cave in the Batmobile, hail the line immediately if they’re sighted, I don’t expect Robin to linger once it stops.” Bruce internally curses at himself that he didn’t think to have some sort of code for his youngest. He’s known for creating contingency plans for his contingency plans, yet he is not prepared for this. He could’ve never prepared himself for the knowledge he had not one blood son but two, twins. He couldn’t be too revealing incase someone was listening. “We’re in pursuit of the Batmobile now. Remember the boys are both League trained, Robin likely will have some tricks he’ll play.. The boy’s full capabilities are still unknown and he is heavily injured, proceed with caution, the boy is likely running on instinct, resistance is expected. We want to avoid making them feel cornered.” His tone is tight with worry, He doesn’t blame Danyal for being suspicious. He may be their father, but as far as he knows it wouldn’t be safe. Well, Bruce can’t blame either of them, they’re children, his children. He will blame their mother though. “We want them to get them home safe with no further injuries.”

Some very distant part of him is proud of Damian for unequivocally having his brother’s back, if only they could bond over things that didn’t shave years off his life. Bruce has never been more stressed. Some day soon he’ll just have to embrace the grey that was sprouting in his black hair and give Alfred relief from helping him hide them.

“Copy that B-man! Our eyes are peeled!” Spoiler responds “I’m currently in Burnley, Orphan’s got Somerset covered and Signal is in Old Gotham! If they’re out here we’ll find them.”

“From what Oracle sent, I think I should be able to pick something up with my powers, I’ll keep trying while we move, B.” Signal pipes in.

“Thank you Signal.” Bruce is flooded with relief. He really is lucky to have them, there’s no one else he’d rather have at his back. They’ve all grown into their own. He tries not to sigh.

Discovering the twins missing had sent them scrambling, even Jason had looked worried and tucked away his instinct to question him or to argue, his second son had simply followed them down to the cave. At this rate he may get an ulcer. He had felt panic steal his critical thinking, as he led his boys south towards where the Batmoblie was speeding away faster than they could grapple. He had to find them. Gotham isn’t safe at night and Danyal’s movements will be restricted if he deems it important not to rip his stitches.

Moving through the air usually calmed him but tonight grappling wasn’t moving him around fast enough. Taking the Batmobile was smart of his sons, he begrudgingly had to admit, not only was it faster, the boys would be hidden inside. If Robin had driven his bike he’d have superior maneuverability even though Batman could’ve followed them faster, but if the boys had impacted something during a high speed chase to flee? They’d both be thrown. Danyal is already severely injured anything additional.. Bruce couldn’t make himself focus on that.

His Trouble Twins probably planned it this way to slow them down. To throw them off their tracks. It was working, the boys had a 10 minute lead on their group. They’d left as soon as they had suited up but they still were too far out of reach. Away from the protective shadow of his cape. He couldn’t protect them now that they left the safety of the manor. Jason was cursing underneath him on the street racing past buildings on his bike, he was slightly ahead of Batman and Nightwing’s position in the air, on the bike next to him Tim was working with Barbara to try and get eyes on the boys. Quiet suggestions on what to look for. Shadows that move unnaturally, flashes of color there and gone, how they needed an algorithm up to analyze all of the feeds simultaneously. With the many cameras in Gotham-more than half Bruce had bought for the city to install- they wouldn’t be so hard to find. They shouldn't be so difficult to find, but Damian was particularly slippery when he put in the effort. Bruce glanced at his eldest besides him.

Dick was one long string pulled too tight. He, of course, was still chatting happily with Barbara but his smile was strained at the edges, his movements too careful and precise. He hasn’t joked once. The possibility the man would snap increases the longer the twins are missing. It’s rare to see Dick outwardly expressing something other than the pure sunshine and patience. By the time Jason had come around he had curbed most of his bloodlust, it was a faint memory by the time Tim weaseled his way into their lives. It reminds Bruce too much of Brucie. The persona that he developed to hide from the vultures that would’ve taken everything from him as a child when tragedy struck. Before Bruce had decided to be active in Gotham’s social scene he knew it was better they underestimate poor orphaned Bruce Wayne. Brucie hid Batman, a shield to protect his family from those who would expose their secrets. He was necessary, even if Bruce felt suffocated most of the time. Was Dick hiding from him?

He has to suppress a shutter. All his children to some degree, whether on or off the streets, have adapted to Batman’s mannerisms and habits. It was essential to survive facing the threats they do. Dick though fell more into Bruce’s habits. His eldest son, who with a smile looked after his siblings while Bruce was distracted by some crisis or another.They both often blamed themselves for things they couldn’t stop or foresee. That heavy invisible weight that sits on their shoulders because they claimed it. Bruce knows that he’s failed his children, Dick.. Dick in particular has had to step up on his behalf to smooth things over between family members. Forced to become another parent to the kids he brought home. It was never Dick’s responsibility and it’s taken time and a lot of effort but Bruce is making steps forward, trying to stop repeating the same mistakes. It was only Alfred’s guidance and help raising the boy that he excelled instead of crumbling under Bruce’s incompetence. Bruce was trying though. Even if it was hard to talk about casually, he was in therapy, it was.. Helping. He’s not putting so much of himself onto his children these days. He’s been processing his thoughts and feelings instead of bottling them inside and letting his anger rule him.

Words though, they still escaped him on the best days. Today was shaping up into an absolutely horrible one. Bruce wanted to say something to reassure his sons that things would be okay. None sounded right. He let them choke him. If they could just find Danyal. As much as it would pain Bruce, his youngest doesn’t have to stay with them-with him. Bruce could never trap him here. He… He just wants Danyal to recover. Recover and be safe, whatever that looks like. The boy looked so small next to Damian. They’re twins and Danyal was so small on that bed next to his brother, all skin and bones, his skin stretched over his face making him look years older and the blood, oh God, it took a second but once they realized all that green was coming from inside of him, Bruce was sure they were going to be planning another funeral. The Y-shaped wound was gruesome and he had stared in shock. Another one of his children getting cut open, violated. Vivisected. He was going to mourn another child. He was going to puke. He was going to destroy those who dared to touch Danyal. A heady mix of vengeance and justice for a boy he’d never properly meet. Somehow though, the boy had stabilized. His boy, another one. He’s too old for surprise kids. Only to be spirited away by Damian behind layers and layers of traps that had made the family hesitate and then they were gone, on the run with Alfred’s careful stitches being the only thing holding Danyal together.

What were they thinking? Why wasn’t I? Why didn’t I fight Damian harder when he locked them out of the recovery room? No…Danyal was already compromised. Damian saw this and ran from his family because he didn’t trust them to protect Danyal, didn’t trust them not to set him off. Maybe they would’ve made it worse, maybe his son was right even if Bruce didn’t want to admit it. Damian was saving them from an error. The boy who he had only met unconscious or through a screen, would’ve lashed out at himself again and they would’ve caused his-

“B? The Batmobile’s tracker has stopped moving on the edge of Burnside near the Craig Bridge. I can’t get a clear view.” Oracle reports

“Hn.” He adjusts his trajectory and his sons follow suit, adjusting their positions to be out behind him in a V-shaped formation. If someone were to see them at this hour they’d see the vigilantes and would draw parallels between them and their namesakes, in normal circumstances it might bring a ghost of a smile across his face, they were a mixed bag flock. His flock. His family. He was thankful to have them at his back tonight. They’d find the boys, they had to. They still had nothing on the threat that was nipping at Danyal’s heels. If they were caught…

“Why would the Demon Brats go there?” Jason grumbles. They’re three blocks away now so Bruce has to fight his nausea down. They might have to subdue the boys if they won’t listen to reason. The idea of injuring Danyal further or obliterating any chance to build a relationship because he sees them as a threat rather than family. He has to stay firm though. He might have not been allowed in the room but between Alfred’s worried fretting and the security feed Bruce is very aware how Danyal shouldn’t be moving let alone going on the run with Damian. If Danyal would just let him explain he had options maybe he’d come back on his own.

“Hood, Red Robin, hang back and spread out. Start searching. I’d like to have our newest addition to Agent A within the hour. Nightwing with me.”

His grapple connects to the next roof and he leans into the arc so his path can wrap around the corner. Just ahead the Batmobile is stopped. The doors were open, no signs of the boys or of a struggle. Bruce knows they won’t find anything inside the Batmobile, Damian is efficient and clean in his work, but they look anyway. Bruce shares a look with his oldest and sighs.

“Nothing in the Batmobile, Hood, Red Robin, report.” He shoots his grapple at the closest roof to get a better view of the surrounding area, Nightwing follows closely behind him.

“Nothing that I can see.” Hood grunts.

“Nothing here either, no alerts from the cameras.” Red Robin sounds frustrated, “You don’t think they bailed in a dead zone, do you? Robin wouldn’t have him jump from a speeding vehicle, right?”

“Hn.” Bruce refuses to acknowledge that thought. Even if it was a likely option, if they felt it necessary to throw them off to that degree. Dick is quiet next to him. He wants to say the right thing to ease his worries. Bruce has never been good at finding the right words, to reassure without false promises but will always try, “We’ll figure out what happened, Chum.”

Dick looks at him for a long moment. Bruce lets him and tries not to shutter himself away. Dick needs Bruce more than Batman right now. “Yeah,” It comes out grim, “before or after my youngest brother reopens something?”

Bruce squeezes his son’s shoulder before turning away and shoots his grapple at the next roof. Right before he jumps he says, “We can only hope the boys are being careful and try our best to find them.”

#daydreamsandcrashingwaves #dc x dp #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batpham #demon twins au #danny fenton whump #danny and damian are twins #Keeping it close to the chest #fic writing #KICTTC fic #KICTTC update #my writing #lets just say this is more of a sneak peak ;3 #danny fenton #damian wayne #WHERE DID THEY GO BWAHAHAHHAHa

53 notes · View notes

cybervesna · 4 months

Note

I need to be fed. Tell me about how you think Ros and Kurt got together.

(Inserting WIP Ros from 2069 because why not) OMG THANK YOU FOR ASKING LET ME NUKE YOU WITH A HEADCANON Ok, so my headcanon about Ros and Kurt: Since she was the CEO of Militech from 2060 to 2069 it means 100% she was the one giving him promotions. Kurt was an exceptional rising star in the army, and the game points to how successful he was for his young age. Ros wouldn't be where she is if she didn't know how to exploit such talent - we know that with her approach to So Mi. My idea of it is that she saw Kurt's potential, devotion, and talent and saw his future exceeding his own ambitions, so of course that was the first thing that put him on her radar. But nothing was happening until he became a Colonel. All the files about Kurt speak highly of him, but point out a huge no when it comes to military structure - individualism. And how to tame such a beast to reach their full potential? By giving him something only he has to satisfy his individualistic needs. Ok, but that's the psychology of it, so how do they actually get together? In my head, I have the Militech ceremony where Kurt, among others, was promoted. The party is on, people are talking, and Myers is running away to lit a cig. She found someplace without anyone who would judge her for it and tried to light that cigarette... Except her lighter didn't work. She gave up on trying and instead just took the night in, away from others, away from pretending. And then someone ruined her peace by finding her and quickly muttering "Apologizes, ma'am." But her addiction took over this opportunity, so she asked "Colonel, do you have a lighter?" Stopping Kurt from running away. As someone who looked for a place to smoke himself, he did have a lighter, so he gave it to her, and Rosalind invited him to smoke with her. It wasn't something she planned, but it did plant a seed between them. At first, Kurt was really formal and tense. Obviously, that was not only his boss. It was the boss of his boss, the boss of all bosses and she was casually smoking a cigarette next to him. But we know Rosalind can be "one of the boys" when it benefits her, so she was just like that, giving him "Permission to speak freely.". And oh boy, Hansen is such a charmer when he wants to, and of course, he wouldn't fret from rizzing the baddest bitch around. Since Ros knew about him so much from all the monitoring done as the rising star, it was interesting to see the side of him that isn't on paper. She was impressed by him, because on many levels, they were so alike, excelling in everything they touched. Except, it was even more impressive knowing he was a guy from the street, not noble born to an old money family. She saw it as something to relate to - she struggled to prove herself in the navy as a woman, and Kurt struggled to prove himself as an equal among nepo-corpo-royalty. And as they were meeting each other at those parties, meetings, and whatnot, they became cigarette buddies. And then they talked about all kinds of stuff, stupid or not. Private phone numbers, to keep the conversation going, and finally invitation for dinner. From Kurt, because he had to prove himself he is brave enough to ask her out. And she agreed. Of course, dating at work, especially when you are the boss is a huge no, so everything was behind closed doors. A little secret between them.

#cyberpunk 2077 #kurt hansen #rosalind myers #OTP: American Beauty/American Psycho #phantom liberty #cyberpunk 2077 phantom liberty #colonel hansen #president myers

47 notes · View notes

uncanny-tranny · 2 months

Text

Honestly, going into your WIP pile to actually go through it and see what you actually want to finish can be really helpful, especially when you don't judge yourself and try to learn why that piece became a hibernater in your WIP pile

Some questions I ponder when I look at a WIP is:

Is this project turning out how I want? If not, what about it don't I like?

Do I or did I have fun when I was starting it?

Will I actually use it or enjoy it when I'm done?

Do I like the material now?

Do I see myself enjoying the product after it's done?

Were there, or are there, time restraints preventing me from finishing?

Is this out of my current skill set, and am I okay with that?

If I could change one thing about the WIP, what would it be?

I know plenty of people won't incorporate this into their own WIP and crafting journey, and that's okay. But I know so many people who hibernate their projects for many reasons and feel guilty about it. I hope this might give people ideas about why they hibernate projects to prevent that type of guilt from eating away at their conscious. This (creating) should be fun, and if you're spending a lot of time feeling guilty or ashamed, it can be hard to continue doing the things you like.

#art #fiber art #knit #crochet #(but this applies to a Lot of crafts and skills and whatnot. i direct it towards knit and crochet because that's what i had in mind)#honestly i think i'm going to frog one of my WIPs because i just don't want it anymore #i don't like the pattern or the method it calls for and i don't like the acrylic material it recommended either #freeing yourself in the way you keep and permanently retire a WIP can be really healing i think #because then you can accept that you have the *right* to refuse to complete something which doesn't spark joy #i think many times people hibernate projects which spark anxiety or frustration for whatever reason #so sometimes you hibernate a project because you are anxious about not having the 'right' level of skill to complete it for instance #that's a generalization but i found personally that exploring *why* i hibernate things can lead me where i want to be...#...and lead me to explore what it is that fulfills my creativity in the way it needs to be honed #there is NOTHING wrong with never finishing or frogging a piece. in fact i implore you to do it if you want

34 notes · View notes

writingfool001 · 10 months

Text

No Difference

Author’s Note: Hi, it's been a while since I update. My google doc I had full of some of my WIPs got deleted so I lost some of the previous request.

Request:

Due to the culture of looking down on half-bloods in the wizarding world, I can picture Newt!MC sympathizing with Sebek about his internalized racism as they had seen multiple Slytherins act the way he does in order to hide the fact that they're either a half-blood or a muggle born. It'll be touching if while Newt!MC is explaining their world to Sebek they touch upon the blood status subject and bring up example of half-bloods being just as exceptional as any regular magician.

Pairing: Newt!MC x Sebek (Platonic or romantic)

Warning: Newt!MC is based off of Newt Scamander, mostly dialogue, short.

You've met many people on your travels, different races, ethnicities, and so on. Compared to your fellow wizard, you would treat everyone you met with decency unless you saw a valid reason not to. Ever since you arrived at NRC, there were few who didn't let anyone doubt their magical abilities due to their background. Yet there was a certain first year, in your flying class, who often called you human and would talk about humans or about Malleus being superior. Overtime, you learned more about his lineage and how he himself was half human himself which made you thought perhaps that is what fed into his usual behavior.

“Sebek, I didn’t know your dad was a dentist?” I started out as we were studying.

“Why would that be important as of right now?” he stated, looking up from his homework.

“You always ask me questions; wouldn’t it be fair if I could not do the same to you?”

He glared a bit before speaking with a slight hesitation and suspicious tone.

“...yes, he is.”

“Such a fascinating job, he must be quite special.”

“He’s just a magic-less human dentist.”

"So what, his magical ability does not change the fact that he is special. I presume your mother hold him in a high regard."

"She does, though I do not entirely understand why/" He grumbled as he wrote out his notes.

"She likely saw him for who he was rather than the lack of magic." I suggested, only for him to scoff at it.

"That does not take away from the fact tha he does not have magic."

"That does not make him any less important besides, do you care about having magic that much?"

"Yes, or else I would be weak, it would've been easier if my father wasn't magicless."

It was a little surprising to hear Sebek be somewhat open with you considering how he's usually yelling at you and such throughout the day, but it was nice. It also sowed some of his insecurities about himself.

"There have been many extraordinarily talented people I have met. Many of them being half-blooded magicians that have been more exceptional than the sum purebloods magicians." You start "I do not judge on one's magical capability or who they're related to which you should learn to do as well. Each to their own."

“You won’t see me differently for my blood?” He asked as you shook head before he let out a hearty loud laugh. “Of course not, for I am Sebek, skilled magician and retainer of the great Malleus Draconia!"

It's good to see somethings don't change. We went back to studying and later on, you saw Sebek still prideful and his loud self, but shown a little brighter.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x mc #twst x reader #newt!mc #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek

139 notes · View notes

heartfullofleeches · 2 years

Text

Yandere Followers x G.N God Writer Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

(Hope you don't mind I did a deity reader rather than just a monster. They're favorite and I haven't done one since a wip I need to finish)

"Hello, everyone. I want to thank you all for your support and for requesting a meet and greet. As much as I'd love to have one, there is a minor problem. I am a lesser God sent by my elders to judge humanity before they wake and decide the fate of your kind."

"...Will it take place anywhere near CA? Getting plane tickets is kinda hard during this season so I need to know if I have to drive out."

Billions of years have gone by since the dawn of time. Once a concept by beings beyond comprehension born to a new reality. Following its creation; the gods were laid to rest as they awaited their seeds to grow. Over time, one would awake with the dawn of a new millenia; to see how their garden has flourished. The youngest of the celestials; none other than you.

You wake for the thousandth time within the ruins of an old stone built structure. It obviously looked a bit better before you went to sleep, but time can bring many changes. As you stretch, you hear rummaging through the debris. A dozen mortals surround you within a flash; all looking upon you with varying degrees of emotion.

Some cowarded. Some pointed weapons at you. Some took pictures, but all shielded their eyes at the sight of your face. Somewhere within the small crowd, one of them stepped towards you. The leader of the group, from how he held himself and how matter-of-factly he pushed his glass up the bridge of his nose. Clearing his throat, he begins to speak.

"Good morning. You may not know me, but you have met an ancestor of mine in the past. My team and I have been searching for you for decades, and it seems we have found you right as you've woken up. I need you no harm, and wish to help you as you did him in the past."

You vaguely piece together his little speech. Most human languages had traces of your mother tongue, but were always a bit hard to translate at first. At the end of his rambling, he gestures for you to follow him; two members of his team hesitantly walking up to you and placing a blanket over your shoulder - having to stand on their toes in the process.

You follow along without complaint. The guns they had trained on you likely were for their own comfort, and they probably couldn't do much to you either. They could also help you begin the task at hand, since there were so many of them in one place.

They bring you on to a helicopter; you marveling at the metal bird. Society had developed alot since your last trip. That was a good sign. As you head off to the next location, the director tries to make conversation, but your eyes remain on the seat beside him - a familiar item nestled upon it. Noticing this, he smiles a bit.

"Are you looking at my book? Do you like to read?"

Books - that's right. You often forget the exact name for smaller things. Books were very helpful to your mission. Records of humankind and their achievements. Actual historical pieces, or just scraps of a diary all had their importance. You even found interest in the fictional stories as they were a nice way to pass the time.

The man hands the book to you. It had a little boy on a planet on its cover. "It's my favorite book. Read it all the time. I can get you as many as you'd like."

True to his word, the human supplied you with hundreds. Xavier Carter, as you'd come to know. Within the little glass prison made for you, the layout of a small apartment had been built. Tapping on the thick glass was amusing, especially since you could walk straight through. A bed, table, and various activities for you to do were placed inside; your most favorite being your own little personal library.

It was made of five ceiling shelves, positioned to circle around a chair in the middle. A large assortment of literature was laid out for you. From fairytales to books on psychics. You read through them all in record time, enjoying each more than the last.

The fictitious tales become your favorites. You loved the creativity of the human mind, and the worlds they built. In a way, it reminded you of what you and your kin had done in the first place. As you finished the last book, you craved more, but from a different perspective. You wanted to be the one to write your own story, curious as to where your mind would go in the process. Upon your next meeting with Xavier, you asked him for a notebook.

"These are amazing, Y/n!"

Xavier sat in a folding chair across from you, your latest story in his hand. He hardly treated you like a research subject, and more like a friend. Visiting you at late hours of the day for a random chat; bring you whatever you asked.

A group of soldiers stood at the door of the room, their weapons at their hips and uv glasses over their eyes. Everyone in the compound had the understanding you could do great harm at the snap of your fingers, but knew of your passiveness and curiosity as well.

"We should start you a blog page."

"..A blog?"

"Yea, a blog." Xavier repeats. "You know, post them online. Your stories are too great to be kept in this dreary place. I'm sure the world would love you!... In regardless to your stories of course."

A soldier speaks up. "Sir, are you sure that's a wise decision?"

"Oh, hush. I'm sure nobody will figure out a thing. This is all on you of course, Y/n."

You think for a moment; your answer already in mind. The idea of others reading what you work had you feeling like never before. You wondered if you could inspire others, like that had to you. The room rose in heat as you gave your best impression of a smile.

"Yes."

You write more and more over time; Xavier taking every one and copying them online. You didn't hear much about it at first, but the thrill of finishing a new story was all you needed. One day, Xavier entered the room with a smile wider than usual. He set a few papers on your desk, pointing for you to read.

"This was really good! Excited to see what you write about in the future, Q."

You look up at Xavier, who nearly stomped his feet in excitement.

"This is from your first fan! I mean, you have more as you'll see, but I thought the first one might be special. I'm so happy for you!"

You sort through the pages, finding more words of praise to follow.

"I love your usage of words."

"I felt like I was right in the middle of the story."

"When will you write your next post?"

Page after page of similar adoration. You didn't know the proper word for it, but it was such a feeling of refreshment. Outside of your goal, you didn't spend much time for yourself; something you've only acknowledged as of recently. It was an exciting new world to explore, one you'd explore through the use of a paper and pen.

Xavier brings you more comments to read. You even start responding to a couple. They're all so nice; especially that Q person that pops up on occasion. A few of the guards even read your stories, and would mention them as they walked by. Eventually, Xavier decided enough is enough and brought you a laptop in protest of the head of the facility; his very own father. The old man gave in as he had a soft spot for his only son, and the deity that was the inspiration for the building in the first place all those years ago.

It's nice to be able to respond to your followers yourself; almost, more personal in a way. They're happy to hear from you, and read your stories; building a small community around it. Q and a few others even helped you make your own website as they had experience in the field. You always expected a nasty comment somewhere along the line, but never got a single one; the mortals seemingly coming together to form a peaceful space around the one they admired.

It didn't take long before they began to ask for a meet and greet, or at least something else about you. Where you grew up; what was your favorite thing to eat. You weren't exactly born per se. One moment you didn't exist, and the next you did; a wandering star in the reality created by your elders. You also didn't have a mouth, so you couldn't answer their other question.

With good reason, you feared telling them who you truly were. There was a possibility they wouldn't believe you and laugh, and on the rare chance they did, what would their responses be? You grew a little recluse at this time; sad you couldn't give them what they wanted when they would give you their all. As you wallowed in self doubt, you received a message from your first fan one late night.

"Hey, I noticed you haven't been that active recently. Is everything alright? Is there anything I can do? We're all here for you, and understand if you need a break. Love you, Q."

You reread the last part of their message multiple times. Your fans had declared their love for you many times, quite often as of recently, but this one felt different; truly genuine. You knew they all were, but this was the one to make you realize that. Swallowing your fears, you make an announcement the next morning."

"Hello, everyone. You all know me as Stargazer88, or Y/n as I've mentioned in the past. I want to thank you all for the support you've given me the following months. It's come to my attention that a few of you wish for a meet and greet, and as much as I'd like to give you one - there is a small issue. I am one of the lesser gods of your realm, sent to monitor your kind as a messenger for when they wake. I'm also locked in what I think to be a government prison for extraterrestrials. I realize how odd this sounds - but it is my truth."

You sit back in your chair, waiting for your first reply. Anxiety fills your stomach. You wonder if you should just delete the post. As you thumb the mousepad, a message pops up.

"That's so cool."

More flood in.

"That's okay! We love you either way!"

"That one story you wrote about a lonely comet felt personal in some way. Was it about you?"

"I fucking knew it. You're too charming to be from here."

"So will the meet and greet happen or not, but plane tickets are hard to get, and I prefer car travel anyway.'

You're quick to respond, surprised they seem to believe you or not.

"This is not a joke. I really am a deity."

"Who said you were lying, lol."

"You were always a God in my eyes anyway."

Out of belief they were fooling with you, you turn on your webcamera to take a photo. One thing that had yet to be mentioned, was that in place of a normal face you instead had the image of a literal star. It was too hot for humans to withstand if they got too close, and looking at it without protection was the same as looking at the sun on a smaller scale.

As one might expect, your picture came out about the same as taking one of that ball of glass. Your hand held up in a peace sign was barely visible, and the whole thing was blurry from the bright light of your face. Regardless, you posted it.

"Cute!"

"Do you need a better camera? I'll send you one"

"Can't wait to see you in person."

More love kept pouring in. Whether people believed you or not was still a question on your mind, but in the end they all still cared for you. Your loyal fans, willing to do anything for you.

Eric panted heavily within his closet hideout; hand clamped tightly over his mouth to quiet himself. His phone screen lit up with the pop up of a new notification, a panicked yelp leaving him as he swiped it away to continue reading the message on the board.

"Holy shit, did somebody actually find that guy's address - frogmagician"

"Yup. I posted it a few times in the chat already. Had some people go check his house out too. - the_little_prince"

"It's what he deserves for questioning them, but we should go too far just yet. - plaguemellow34"

"Did anyone ever ban his account by the way? - Q"

Eric let out a muffled sob. Like many would, he saw your message as a joke, and called you out on it. All he did was tell you to cut the shit, but the second he sent it, the reply had been erased. He received a few emails telling him not to question you; strange as he didn't even use his main to send the message. From that moment, he had felt that people had watching him - waiting. He couldn’t even go outside anymore without feeling like eyes were on his back, his internet life no different. It was when he went on your fanpage that he found out what was going on.

A knock on his door sent chills down his spine, and a silent prayer to the gods.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere insert #multiple yanderes #yandere harem #tw yandere #yandere works #yandere fic #yandere writing #yandere oneshot

539 notes · View notes

zzoomacroom · 3 months

Note

For the ask game: how about one each for Hob, Dream, and Death?

Oooohh, excellent ask, thanks anon!

Hob:

First impression: wow, this guy is kind of obnoxious. Cute, though.

Impression now: my sweet beloved blorbo, the love of my life, I think about him 24 hours a day

Favorite moment: 1789, just that whole scene. But especially his reaction to the drawing ("I look terrible. You look worse"), and when he breaks a teacup over that guy's head

Idea for a story: the wip I'm currently working on is about him being the last man on earth and going on a road trip with Delirium and Barnabas

Unpopular opinion: I think he probably just has an average-sized penis 🤷‍♀️

Favorite relationship: we don't see much of his canon relationships, but if we're talking non-canon then of course it’s dreamling. I also kind of like the idea of Hob/Johanna(/Dream?)

Favorite headcanon: I've posted about this before and the wonderful @delta-pavonis wrote a fic about it, but I firmly believe that in the Sandman universe, he was the inspiration for Nick Bottom. Think about it: low-born guy who always has to be the center of attention and acts like a jackass, but somehow won the queen's favor. Hob was salty because Shaxberd had Dream's attention, but Shaxberd was salty because Hob had the queen's attention.

Dream:

First impression: this dude is kind of pathetic, I desire him carnally

Impression now: my babygirl, my everything, my beautiful, ethereal, majestic, all-powerful loserboy. I love him so much 😭

Favorite moment: it's so hard to choose...in the show, I loved his battle with Lucifer and what he did to Rick Madoc (his dispassionate fury in defending Calliope was chilling). In the comics, I love all his interactions with Delirium. Also when Death throws the bread at him and it goes "bip!"

Idea for a story: um...well...don't judge me, but I have a retired!Dream mpreg fic I'm working on, which the amazing @kydrogendragon and some other lovely folks on discord (idk if they're on tumblr or i would tag them) helped me develop.

Unpopular opinion: hmm...I've seen so many opinions about him and I'm not sure which ones are considered unpopular. I think maybe he's a bit more slutty than we give him credit for, based on how he was immediately down to clown when Bast jokingly propositioned him

Favorite relationship: of his canonical relationships, I find Calliope the most interesting. For non-canon, dreamling all day every day forever. For platonic relationships: Lucienne (i just don't see them as romantic, sorry morphienne fans), Death, Delirium, Matthew

Favorite headcanon: based on recent conversations I've seen/taken part in on tumblr, I like the idea of him getting freaky with his helm (the helm stays on during sex). @tryan-a-bex wrote a great little ficlet about it

Death:

First impression: she's amazing and I love her

Impression now: she's amazing and I love her

Favorite moment: when she throws the bread at Dream. Also, not exactly canon, but in the "At Death's Door" manga by Jill Thompson I love when she teams up with Despair and Delirium and catches souls in a baseball mitt:

Idea for a story: admittedly, I don't currently have any ideas for stories with Death as a main character, but she does feature heavily in my post-apocalypse fic. I would like to see more of her days she spends as a mortal. We see some of that in "Death: The High Cost of Living," but I bet she gets up to some crazy shenanigans

Unpopular opinion: I don't think she's as perfect as a lot of people think she is. She's one of my favorite characters and I love her, but I think she's as flawed as the rest of her siblings and has her own struggles that we only get glimpses of

Favorite relationship: canonically she doesn't have any romantic relationships that readers see, but I love her relationships with her siblings, especially Dream. For ships, I kind of like the idea of her with Johanna, but I haven't explored it much

Favorite headcanon: I think she's a lesbian and nothing can dissuade me of that belief

#thank you for the lovely ask anon!#asks #ask game #the sandman #dream of the endless #death of the endless #hob gadling

22 notes · View notes

jacqulinetan · 13 days

Text

20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged!!!! thank you @ursae-minoris-world, you're truly so so kind to think of me.

I'll be real honest, I'm only on tumblr very intermittently and I don't really know how to use the platform at all. I'm scared that my formatting will be really messy and make people angry if I put a wall of text on their feed. So hopefully I figure out how to do the jump cut. But I just finished a fic so it's very fun to do one of these and talk about my writing. And I always like to see other people too, so I thought, hey I will give it a shot. Here's the questions:

How many works do you have on ao3? Right now I just finished my 74th work on ao3! Fifty four of those are vld, twenty four are sheith proper

2. What's your total word count on ao3? 993,716 words. I'm set to hit a million this year, I think!

3. What fandoms do you write for? LOL can you believe it? We're still loving Mr. Keith Voltron in the glorious year of our lord 2024

4. What are your top five fic by kudos? Oh well, my sk friends aren't going to be impressed--- my kl fics always take top spots for kudos and bookmarks. I attribute this not to talent or popularity but just because that side of the fandom has a much wider reach. For the sake of the questionnaire, I'll answer properly, in order: 'it's you that's haunting me' takes the top spot by a wide margin at 2,591 kudos to date. 'that mullet, etc' is currently at 1,788 kudos, and after that it's 'cross my heart,' 'swapping out silence,' and 'things that go bump in the night.'

5. Do you respond to comments? I do! for me, one of the best parts of fic is the community between authors and their audience. For the majority of my fandom life I've considered myself more of a reader than a writer, so I really treasure it when I leave a comment and an author responds. It's so special. As an author, I do respond to every comment, though sometimes it takes me a long time. I'm always so impressed that people are not only reading my words but digesting them and thinking on them too. It's wild to me. A very precious gift.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Oh, my friend, that fic is yet to come. the wip I've got on my closest back burner has a real humdinger of an angsty ending. I'm excited about it. hmmmm if I had to answer now.....I'm not sure! usually I'm a happy ending kind of girl

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? well well well, now I have to answer this one properly don't I? Are we thinking happiest like 'biggest emotional pay off for the reader'? Or happiest like 'Keith is wildly happy' by the end? I think 'heart nailed open' has a very good emotional pay off (though I wrote it so perhaps I can't judge too well on behalf of the reader). If I am really thinking, in which fic is Keith truly the happiest he could ever be by the end...well, I try always to make Keith happy but, in 'the whole story' he has everything he could ever want AND a very nice couch.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not routinely. I did, actually, get a very nasty comment on a fic in 2023 and it legitimately hurt my feelings. Made me feel like I should not be writing at all, actually. But, can you believe it? Friends came out of the woodwork-- people I rarely talk to, even-- and jumped in my comments section and really defended me. like, I really had all kinds of people on my side, defending me! So that meant a lot to me, and I was honestly so surprised, and I'd like to give every one of those friends the kindest hand press because I really did feel very taken care of in the aftermath.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Oh, I don't know! I have plenty of E rated fics but I don't know if I will ever master a true PWP. to me, the sex scenes I write are not so original or exciting, nothing to really write home about lol. I'm not a fan of publicly being negative about my stuff, so I will simply say that I wish I could write some really off beat toe curling wild kink, but it's probably just not my personality to do so LOL

Is this getting really long?? should I be embarrassed ? should I close the tab and never think on this again? hmmm no

10. Do you write cross overs? Cross overs with what, my dear? There's only one Keith

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Oh I think 'it's you that's haunting me' strolled on over to wattpad or some such site without my permission back in the day, but I've never really looked into it. What I don't know cannot hurt me, right? I highly doubt that there's been some crazy highway robbery for perfchan words.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I don't think I have! But I did have someone ask to record a podfic for one of my stories, and I was so flattered and thrilled!!!!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope! I don't have much interest in this, I am very shy about my writing and I fear I would be too cagey to be a very good collaborator.

14. what's your all time favorite ship? Keith x Being Loved and Cherished the Way He Ought to Be

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? (covers face) I don't have any unfinished WIPs.... it's not in my Type A personality to leave things undone.....

16. What are your writing strengths? This is something to really ponder!!! What /are/ my strengths!!! huh!!! well. I figured out early on that my favorite things to write are atmospheric and setting heavy -- both my most popular fic (it's you that's haunting me) and my most personally beloved fic (heart nailed open) have this in common: they have a lot of detail about the setting, and a lot of effort put into ~vibes~ of the story. so I think, if I could be self indulgent and chose which writing bits I'm good at, it's that type of thing. I really like crafting a scene you can settle into with all of your senses

17. what are your writing weaknesses? too many to list!!! I very often read my own writing and I always enjoy it (I wrote it for myself afterall) but sometimes I wonder....why did I spend so long on this particular bit? I think I am not very good at making a story tight. I wish I could master the art of being able to 'trim the fat' so to speak, really be precise with the story, but I simply don't have the chops! I can never understand how to make it better than I already have! perhaps if I keep writing long enough, I will get better at this

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? this question would really open up a can of worms on the kl side of the fandom LOL. I will admit it, I've had Lance speak spanish a time or two. I don't speak spanish myself so in those rare instances I have been VERY careful to keep things straightforward and try really really hard to not be cringe worthy to native speakers

19. First fandom you wrote for? the first thing I posted online was a USUK fic in a hetalia LJ comm. I can distinctly remember the first time I ever read a fic with *there was only one bed* (it was usuk) and WHEN I TELL YOU MY EYES WERE OPENED. I was forever changed on that day. of course I wanted to try my hand at writing after that

20. Favorite fic you've written? You would ask me to chose a favorite of my children!!! Oh! I simply could not!!! No, seriously, it's 'heart nailed open.' I love that fic

This got so long !!!!!! I can't imagine anyone reading all this !!!!!!!! but omg if you did thank you!!!!!! I'm shy about tagging people in the best of times, and like I said at the very beginning, I am very very shaky on tumblr etiquette, so I had better not tag anyone. but if my friends enemytosleep or grem or kacy or monday happen to see this, I would be very excited to read your responses!!! okay bye!!

#perfchan #my writing #fanfiction meta

15 notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 1 year

Text

BLOG FAQs

WELCOME ABOARD! This blog has amazing readers which makes it a lot of fun. Check your content settings to make sure you can see everything. Heed warnings on fics. UPDATED 4/15/24.

Basics

Tox, she/her. millennial. Blog is 18+.

Do not copy, translate, or repost* my work. Do not put it into AI or make bots of it. Ty for understanding.

*reblogging ( 🔁 button) is encouraged.

As of 4/16/24, I'm still on hiatus from trying to write and read, but my WIPs are not abandoned.

Q: Are Requests open?

A: not for new fics, but feel free to send thots, particularly on my stories 💕 if I use it I'll tag you. you can also ask Qs about lore, etc., I love that!

Q: Will you write more every inch/left in Lincoln?

A: I plan to. More here. For Every Inch, if you tell me what you liked so far, it might help me. 🩷

Q: When is fic] coming back? How many chapters?

A: IDK, sorry. If I knew I'd tell you. I have to delete asks like this for my sanity. I get overwhelmed. In the future I'm not planning to release things as I go, I'm gonna try to finish everything before posting. Problem is I have a lot of one shot fails / play as I go AUs. We'll see.

Q: Did you read my fic?

A: I'm sure it's good but I'm a slow/bad reader. I'm also overdosed on pedro rn. More here.

Q: AO3

A: Here, not everything is on there but lmk if there's something you'd like me to prioritize as I work on bringing everything over.

Q: Tag list?

A: Please follow @toxicfics, use the person icon to turn on notifications, and use this trick for getting a tab on your dashboard just for your blog subscriptions so you can see what you missed.

Q: Are the fics always dark on this blog?

A: No.

Q: What is the brothel?

A: I HC my characters as living in my brothel which has its own crack sideblog @toxicbrothel and tv show.

Q: What are Joelkémons?

A: Reader-coined term for the Joel variants on this blog. Some listed here: Joelkémon cards.

Q: Can we make your characters into bots?

A: No, please don't do this. It makes me feel bad and they don't even work. Every time it puts me farther away from updating the fic. Please. o not copy, repost, translate, put in IA, or make bots of my work. Please lmk if you ever see my work made into a bot, copied, etc.

Q: Who's night walks!Joel? Who's thighs out?

A: Night Walks is an AU where Joel is your hot, older, creepy pothead neighbor. Night walks masterlist. Thighs out (another AU) is your boyfriend's hot slutty dad.

Q: What's a HOG? Who/what is GILF?

A: Hot Old Guy, from Silence can never be bought pt. 2 and 5. GILF is grandpa I'd Like to Fuck and may refer to the one from Pawn Shop (Joel in his 60s) @gilfjoel.

Q: Who is Dr. Rock?

A: Hot sex therapist who roleplays the different Joelkémons. When people think they need therapy, they get referred to Dr. Rock. Dr. Rock is also the poster boy for avoiding discourse.

Q: Do you still write slashers?

A: Yes. I just wrote my first Thomas Hewitt in March 2024. Main/slashers masterlist.

Q: What other fics & blogs do you rec?

A: Please check out @toxicrecs

Q: How can I stay motivated to write without getting a lot of notes?

A: Please see these posts: here and here.

Q: Why did you unfollow me?

A: As a Tumblr noob, I followed accts all willy nilly--i was impatient to diversify my dash. If we've never interacted, I don't want to feel like a lurker. Or I could've lost (some or all) interest in the fandom. Or I may have forgotten why I followed you, especially if what you're posting has changed. Or I might be wanting to reduce the discourse I see. Or it could be be something like what's described below that I don't want to see. Or rarely a mistake but it's possible.

⚠️ A: The most common reasons I block are for policing or judging what others write or post, kink shaming, or spreading harmful rumors. ⚠️

✨Q: Am I blocked? Why can't I see your main blog from my account? / Did you soft block me? What is going on?

When it comes to rumors and shamers, silence is not a sign of guilt or agreement. It's confidence in the truth and desire to keep harmful takes off the dash. As a rule, I would ignore and block false accusations, rumors, or kink shamers instead of giving them a huge audience by responding or addressing it.

Kink shamers I see in the wild / targeted harassment of writers: blocked. And if a post is bad enough, I may block for any positive interaction with it. I'm removing myself from your dash.

You can get blocked on anon too.

Rarely, there could be a blocking error.

#FAQ

82 notes · View notes

rriavian · 5 months

Text

So @jessamydreams-deactivated202311 sent me an ask but it disappeared before I could answer it!

No idea what I did wrong but it might be the deactivation. Thought I'd make my answer into a separate post :) I think they are now @jessamydream but I will remove the tag if not. I've used the questions they asked as little subheadings so hopefully this will all make sense.

What are the Corinthian's feelings towards Jessamy and Lucienne?

In your ask you mentioned Jessamy flying out of Dream's robe in episode one and I had actually completely forgotten about that! It is very intimate! I also have the most adorable image of her tucked in there and peaking her head out to judge people. During that first scene with the Corinthian she would have been right there listening. Ooh, if he had known it could be a reason for telling Burgess to get rid of her (for having witnessed him being rebuked?) but I also think that it was a practical choice. The Corinthian would have known she’d never give up trying to free Dream.

There might be some degree of regret, but I don’t think he really felt guilty for it. The Corinthian would very much see it as necessary, but it was also quite a self-serving way of soothing jealousy.

Personally I think he’s very jealous of the ravens!

Especially Lucienne. I think there’s this very real tension between them because of it. I do think the Corinthian is like ‘yes well you may be a human soul but he made me and I’ll have something you’ll never have’. The intimacy between an artist and their work I suppose. Though I also think it makes him resent the way Dream dotes on her, because she’s not held to the same standards as he is.

Lucienne has a freedom within the Dreaming that is unique.

She has changed from the role of a raven to that of a librarian, an agency within her place there that the Corinthian doesn't have in his. The ravens aren’t there to shoulder the burden of Dream’s role in the same way that his creations are. While that means the Corinthian can be smug about sharing that, perhaps seeing that he can do far more of the heavy lifting in terms of supporting Dream's responsibilities to the dreamers, he might also feel siloed by it. I’ve got some wips that play with this idea but yeah…jealousy, a bit of resentment, but also a lot of possessiveness.

They both have something of Dream that the other will never have.

How does the Corinthian feel about Dream visiting a human every 100 years?

Ok so I definitely think the Corinthian knew that Dream was meeting someone in the Waking World. But in many ways I don’t think he really cared too much. Based just off of what we see in the show the meetings themselves seemed very contained. It was probably seen more as Dream keeping an eye on an experiment, and I think any jealousy would be folded into the Corinthian’s resentment of Dream’s strict commitment to role.

So I don’t really think it impacted the Corinthian at all—especially given Dream’s nonchalance when Death reminds him about missing the meeting with Hob—I think he’s far more jealous of Dream’s relationship with Lucienne (and Jessamy/Matthew).

Is the Corinthian jealous of Dream's lovers?

In terms of Dream’s other relationships, I really need to finish my fic with Calliope and the Corinthian so I can delve into this a little more.

But in truth I think the Corinthian probably feels similar to how he feels towards Lucienne. When Dream married Calliope he probably saw it as ‘yeah you’re his wife but I’m his favourite creation so how does that really compare’?. A weird mix of jealousy and possessiveness? The same as with all the relationships I think – the Corinthian is very much like ‘he is mine in a way he’ll never be yours’. And he’s proven right most of the time in how quickly the lovers come and go, in how easily (in his eyes) they give up.

I think the Corinthian is satisfied by that, looks down on them, is amused when a new one comes along like ‘oh? How long will you last before you do your best to break his heart?’

The Corinthian knows that eventually they will leave, that the Dreaming will return to how it was before. So maybe there is a little bit of protectiveness too. I think he considers them unworthy, unable to really appreciate all of what Morpheus is, and again that is something he’s consistently proven right about.

Calliope is probably the only one who he felt actually ‘threatened’ by though.

Interestingly enough (to bring this back to your questions about Lucienne and Jessamy) Dream’s longest ‘relationships’ are arguably those he has with his ravens. I think that's why the Corinthian is far more jealous of them then any new/old lover. There’s a degree of compatibility and love between him and them that is incredibly powerful, incredibly unique. And it lasts. There is always loyalty and care there, the ravens understand him, and they all stay with Dream throughout everything he has to be without flinching. Even when things end terribly (as with Jessamy’s death).

Hopefully that answers your questions!

Don’t feel guilty about asking too many! I really enjoyed thinking about this and putting some of my thoughts into words. I always love your questions <3 Please ask as many as you want and, hopefully, this time I won’t take as long as I did to answer the other one you asked me!

#dream of the endless #the sandman #the corinthian #corintheus #character meta #it's a pretty long post but hopefully a good read

23 notes · View notes

starmanskywalker · 1 year

Text

knowing me, knowing you • anakin skywalker x reader

ayyyyy here's the wip i was talking about !! 🤠 synopsis: modern!au, cop!au. you and Anakin are assigned a mission that forces you both to come to terms with the past.

first of all: acab. second of all: everything i know about police hierarchy, guns or laws is what i learned from brooklyn nine nine and wikihow lol please take this for what it is: filth with (confused) feelings ❤️

as always, +18 only. and my askbox is always open for new prompts.

tags: exhibitionism, drug use (not by the main characters), shootings, violence, unethical + totally unrealistic shooting lessons, tough breakups, undercover cops doing very shady things, this doesn’t have the happiest of endings, i kinda miss songfics and you can tell by this work

word count: 4.821

You nervously fiddle with the fragile fabric of the flimsy, short shiny dress you wear under your oversized fake fur coat as your Uber drives to the nefarious destination of that night’s mission. You notice the driver shoots you some glances as if to coyly tell you he knew what your job was, when in reality, you knew he didn’t know shit.

The anticipation that bubbled in your stomach had nothing to do with the place you were about to go or the people you were eventually supposed to arrest, but instead it had to do with who was supposed to arrest these people alongside you. Captain Windu was quite kind not to assign any missions for the both of you since the incident, but according to him, no other profiles fit the assignment as well as you and Detective Skywalker’s.

Bullshit. You knew this was Mace’s way of making you overcome by force whichever discomfort still left by your and Anakin’s breakup and putting a halt to the fruitless and neverending bickering sponsored by the precinct’s once dream couple every time someone paired you in anything together. Since you two parted ways, work life with Skywalker became unbearable to the point you considered asking Mace for a move, something Obi-Wan, your precinct’s sergeant, vehemently discouraged you to. You eventually gave in and stayed, colleagues eventually learning not to put you in the same room except in full-team briefings, but you could tell Mace was tired - no, exhausted - of dealing with whatever was going on between you.

The script’s fairly simple: you, the new girl at the Zygerria nightclub, will catch Lars' - Anakin’s - attention, who will try to negotiate with your target (who goes by Jango Fett, according to the investigation) for a night with you using a shit ton of state-owned cocaine as his hand in the deal. Of course this was far from a one night only operation because Lars had to earn their trust, and so did you. You got in your best shape in years, actually learned to pole dance, do a mean routine to N.E.R.D’s “Hypnotize U” and survive inside of a very female-unfriendly place/business; all while reporting your progress to Obi-Wan at the end of the day.

Again: the fact that this night was decisive for the sting didn’t bother you at all. This was far from your first rodeo and your reputation in the precinct preceded you. The fact that it relied so much on you getting that intimate with Anakin after all that you’ve been through is what does.

Seeing him still emotionally and physically hurt, despite the many months that passed since your relationship ended. You haven’t fucked anyone else since (which definitely wasn’t his case, judging by how cozy he was with Detective Amidala lately), and you felt like it genuinely ruined you in the matters of romance and flirting. Not that you were particularly good at it from the start, but loving Anakin was easy, inevitable. You weren’t actively searching for it, or anything really, yet he found you and struck you like lightning; leaving permanent bolt-shaped burns in your skin as the electricity and warmth gave place to resentment and mutual isolation the moment you realized you had totally different perspectives for your futures and Anakin was selfish and petulant as a child.

The car arrives at Zygerria. You take a deep breath and exit the car unceremoniously, after tipping the driver generously even if he wasn’t the warmest - that’s precisely what you needed on a night like this. You arrive way more quietly than you usually do, attributing your slight change of demeanor for your closest girls and bartenders to a bad breakup.

Which was kinda the truth, to be honest.

You store your purse and coat in one of the lockers before fixing your makeup in order to look irresistible for the men and occasional women that occupied the nightclub’s lounge - or perhaps for the one man in particular you hoped that night was as hard for as it was for you. The fabric barely covering your skin, despite being very light and allowing the wind to blow all over your body, accentuated your curves beautifully and bore within its confines the promise of showing more than it should every step you took.

As you walk around the lounge, you gently and charmingly dodge eager bystanders, their touches and their beckonings as you look for Lars. You wonder what he smells like tonight - his “special evenings” perfume, maybe? The one that penetrated your skin and your senses like a tattoo every morning you woke up by his side?

How is that in any way an important question to ask yourself, anyway?

After spending the time you did with the other girls, you can’t help but think of how much of a lovestruck, abandoned-by-her-businessman-lover stripper vibe you’re giving out through your behavior. But you were a woman on a mission. Literally. You look for him furtively and in every corner of the room your eyes can reach.

The moment your eyes reach his you can notice him getting steadily into the character. You’ve met many Anakins throughout your personal and professional life, having not met Lars yet makes the pit inside your stomach grow a few inches wider in anxiety. You stride towards the bar and ask for a Moscow Mule in order to calm your nerves as he walks towards you.

What killed you a bit too about doing this with him again was the fact that Anakin was so fun to work with in operations like these. He tried new accents all the time and succeeded in using them, he was always experimenting with makeup, wigs… he was a master of disguises and you could always tell this was an aspect of the job he particularly enjoyed. This time, though, he was barefaced expect for the fact he covered the scar that crossed his eyes; he opted for a shorter, clean-cut haircut that, paired with a very fucking expensive and precisely tailored designer suit he was wearing, exuded power and money to every other human being that got the opportunity to shoot him a look, which every other girl did take.

Before they could have the chance to swarm him like moths, he reaches you with that smirk of his, which you felt wasn’t exactly real. This thought shouldn’t cause you the pain it still does. “Hey, darling.” Slight Scandinavian accent. Of course, Lars is a very Scandinavian name. His voice was slightly deeper than you remembered. Needless to say, it’s been a while since you heard his voice given that you’ve grown distant, choosing silence over animosity as the circumstances surrounding you gave you exactly what you thought you needed: space. You couldn’t tell if he deepened his voice on purpose for this role or if his cigarette habit came with a vengeance since you broke up with him. “Haven’t seen you here before.”

“Hey,” you did your best to keep up with him. You were no Viola Davis, but you did your best. “How’s your night going, Mr…”

“Sjöberg. Lars Sjöberg.” He takes your hand in his and places a gentle kiss in it. You can feel time freeze and sparks fly around your characters. “To be honest with you, I think I could use better company to spend it with. You seem just perfect. What's your name?”

“I’m Mel.”

“Short for Melanie?”

“The word for honey in many languages, actually.”

“I see.” He chuckles. After he asks the bartender for a glass of whiskey, he whispers in your ear: “I know you taste just as sweet.”

You blush furiously at his choice of words, especially his picking of “I know you taste just as sweet” over “I guess you taste just as sweet” in a scenario like this, and you can swear that for the first time in years you could hear his accent falter in the middle of a mission. It was just for the authenticity of your reaction, you remind yourself. Thankfully the Moscow Mule arrives just in time for you to swallow some large gulps before you answer your fellow detective: “Our club overlooks a lot of things, Mr. Sjöberg. But in order to find out how I taste, you gotta see how I move, first. And reward me generously for it.”

The distance between your bodies becomes smaller too quickly for you to register precisely how, and you now feel his warm breath on your neck. “I’ll take whatever you're willing to give me”, he mumbles, before leaving the naughtiest and most discreet of kisses in your skin. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

Shit. You almost forgot how smooth Anakin could be sometimes. You down the rest of that liquid courage before your perfectly manicured nails trace his chest seductively: “Want to go somewhere more private?”

Anakin’s legs are splayed wide over the lavish, purple sofa of the VIP room alcove. He holds his drink firmly with one hand as the other rests in his thigh; his expression enigmatic while you give him a lap dance to Chloe x Halle’s “Ungodly Hour”. You adjust your choreography to surreptitiously communicate with him, your moving body dangerously close to his. He swallows thickly at the proximity.

“Where did you place your gun?” He whispers, one finger gently moving a lock of your hair out of the way in order for Lars to get a better look at your glimmering chest.

“Precisely where I’ll need it to be when we’re there. I know this place from the inside out by now.”

His unoccupied hand traces your waist and your back in a featherlight caress. You shiver at the familiarity of it. “Good. I don’t feel like making a spectacle of Jango’s arrest tonight. Ideally, everything will happen very swiftly.”

“Oh, it’ll be a spectacle from start to finish, Mr. Sjöberg. Specially if we fuck it up. How many briefings did you miss in order to spend more time with Amidala?” You ask him with a bit more venom than necessary – your entire question didn’t have the necessity to be made, actually. You just let it out out of spite.

In order to distance yourself from his touch but also make sure you weren’t being heard, you peek out of the alcove. No burly men in sight. You take a deep breath before returning to your routine.

Anakin dodges the question and your unnecessary (?) bitterness. “What do you mean we can’t make it discreet?”

You huff in annoyance at his lack of preparation. “We can, but I told you plenty of times that Jango's room is full of his own bugs from the floor to the roof. We’ll face an entire army if we’re not cautious enough, and we’ll have to entertain him in order to get what we need.”

“Do we even have the backup for this?”

“Of course we do! Plenty! Do you think I’m an idiot? And do you even remember what we’re supposed to do to get him to do what we want?”

It’s true what they say about breakups: you tend to only remember the nicer things in your relationship whenever the yearning hits. Well, you were just reminded of one thing that was deeply annoying about Anakin and working with him: he was too sure of himself to stick or pay attention to plans. His silence is the answer you need. “Fuck, Anakin.” Your face wrinkles in irritation. “The moment we go there and you make your bid for me, he’ll probably ask me to give you a trial. We’ll then give him something to look at - he’s a perv. He’ll love that.”

You sit on his lap and unabashedly grind against him to the rhythm of the song - knowing he’s unable to do anything about it, that’s the best way you can find to get your revenge on his recklessness all while teasing what’ll come further in the night. And it’s surprisingly on character too.

The breath that rushes from Lars is a sharp one; you can see how his pupils dilate, hear the pattern shift in his breathing. He palms your hips in order to keep the movement steady. “Just like that.” You moan, already disarmingly wet by the indirect and clothed friction of his already rock-hard cock against your pulsating clit. “He’ll turn all systems off because he’ll want the sights and… and sounds all to himself,” you explain, both of your bodies quickly overtaken by the desire you two still have for each other. “And he’ll excuse his men from the room.”

“How do you know that?” He groans and you feel his grip on your hips tighten.

“I just do,” you limit yourself to answer. “Unlike some, I do my research.”

And just before you get to the point of no return, one of Jango’s henchmen arrive to pull off the brakes in your interaction, making you briskly get off Anakin’s lap. Skywalker tries to hide his crystal clear excitement at having you on top of him after so long. “Sir, sorry to interrupt, but if you want to play, you’ll have to pay.”

“‘f course,” he answers, trying to recompose himself. “I do want her for a night, Rex. Can we arrange that?”

“Always, sir.”

“Good to see you again, friend.” Jango Fett greets Lars with a wide smile on his face and an enthusiastic handshake. Judging by how reserved Fett usually was, you deduce Anakin did a great job at making Jango warm up to him. Or, like many men in this world who only love women in a certain kind of way, he was only able to show true affection for other men.

He takes his seat behind the lush marble table now separating him and his “Swedish” acquaintance. Anakin follows, taking the seat in front of him while you stand still in one of the corners of the [stereotypically, really] opulent room, close to where Rex and Cody also stood. You’re glad that on your way to Fett’s “office” you got to fetch your coat again, because it was eerily cold too. “So you’re interested in my new girl.”

You found it fascinating how he talked about you as if you weren’t even there. Lars takes a good look at you as if to make his point even more clearer. “Very.”

Jango’s eyebrows raise in amusement. He thinks you got lucky. “Well, I do work with the finest product this city has to offer. Rates might be a little higher than you’d expect them to be. What price can you pay for exclusivity?”

Lars pushes a small bag of cocaine in Jango’s direction. “Purest you’ll ever come across.”

Jango opens the bag, collecting a small sample with a nearby key and snorting it with the precision of a pro. Judging by how hard it hits him, Lars is definitely telling the truth. “Shit. That’s fucking diamond.” Fett wipes his nose, stunned, leaning back against the chair with a sigh. “How did you get it?”

“I have my contacts.”

“How much?”

“88 pounds.”

“Don’t fucking play me. Just like that? All with me in mind?”

“I’ve had my eyes on Mel for a while.” Anakin beckons you to sit on his lap, keeping his composure flawlessly intact at the slightest hint of Jango’s cocaine-fueled change of heart. You stride towards him and follow his unspoken command. “All with her in mind.”

“That’s fair. Fuck, she’s one lucky bitch.” Jango fills a cup with whiskey and downs it fast, not bothering to think too much. Perhaps Anakin’s signaling of complete confidence helped here. Jango could smell fear and anxiety - he bragged over and over about all the undercover cops he dodged or killed. “Show him what you can do, baby. You're worth it.”

“How can I prove to you I’m worth the investment, Mr. Sjöberg?” You ask Anakin, your voice deviantly silky.

“How about we finish what we started down there?” His voice is raspy with need. “Hey, Fett, care to give us a little privacy? Your men, I mean. Too crowded.”

“C’mon, a trial’s a trial. These men have seen way more scandalous things.” Fett scoffs, the chemical hyper confidence doing wonders to his system. Anakin’s eyes quickly meet yours in worry. “Do you mind watching, boys?”

“Not at all, sir.” Cody replies, his tone scornful.

“See?”

Welp, your thorough research just bite you beautifully in the ass. Anakin will probably give you hell for this.

“Is anyone else going to appear?” Anakin asks Jango, his hand caressing your leg while you see the gears in his head turning.

“Not unless you change your mind and want them to.”

“I don’t. Just to be sure.” Your colleague manhandles you so you can straddle him in front of the men. “C’mon baby. Think you can do this for me?”

“Of course. ‘s my job.” You reply, bending your knees slightly and straightening them again, rubbing up against the bulge in Skywalker’s pants, feeling your heart skip a couple of beats at the contact and at the fact that the three other men in the room are eyeing you just as hungrily as Anakin is.

As you sway your hips experimentally against his cock, the proximity allows him to feel you brought the best kind of protection with you inside your coat: your gun. A little more confident with the change of plans he’s designing in his head, he mutters, expecting you to understand where he’s getting at while his fingers coyly caress the weapon hidden in your hips: “Don’t be shy. Rex and Cody are probably wishing you took care of them.”

Jango chuckles. You answer, in a very low whisper. “Would you let me take care of them while you and Jango watch?” You indeed get where he’s getting at.

“Sharing is caring. Think you really could do it?” Anakin felt himself growing harder in his own pants with each roll of your hips and he couldn’t deny that even though the real implication was that you were about to shoot these two men, the fantasy of seeing you ruined by them wasn’t one Anakin was completely against, but that’s something he’d keep to himself to his grave. The fact that you were doing this right now, and in front of such dangerous people nonetheless, was already too much to process.

“Yes. But I want to give them a show first.” Understanding that you indeed needed them to be distracted - and this was a golden opportunity to give in to some of your most reprehensible kinks, too, because why not? - you press your face into his neck while he holds your hips tightly. This was all the incentive Skywalker needed to keep going.

Earnestly, you keep rolling his hips over and over again back into the bulge in Anakin’s pants, eliciting escalating moans from him. He motions for you to stop your movements and before you can reach the small gun you have on you, he asks you: “May I?” Motioning to move your very delicate panties away from your core.

He wanted to fuck you in front of them before the arrest took place. Claim his territory.

He was having way too much fun with this. And fuck it - so were you.

“Anything you want, Lars.”

You help him to free his dick from its fabric confines without leaving him completely naked from the waist down - your big ass coat sizeable enough to conceal his reallocation of his gun - and you tremble above him as he drags the tip of his cock against your pussy. “Fett, fuck, can everyone listen and see what’s going on here? Now that I mind.” He feigns worry.

Shit. The bugs. You were so drunk with lust you almost forgot about them. So hypocritical of you.

“No, Lars.” Anakin notices Fett pressing some buttons and he hopes he turned his microphones and cameras off. “Sorry about that. Go on. No one but us can see or hear you now.”

“Thank you. Three's already a crowd.” Skywalker sighs, basking at the sight of the trail of wetness leaving your fingers as you accommodate him a little better inside of you. You lowered yourself on his cock pornographically, a very indecent moan escaping from your lips as a result of you two finally joining in one. Anakin shoos you. He missed seeing himself disappear in your welcoming, dripping cunt; you took him so well even after all this time.

Your lips freeze in a silent ‘O’ and your eyebrows tighten as you adjust to his considerable size once again. “You’re so fucking tight, princess. Take your time.” His lips hover over yours in a silent promise of a kiss as he turns a loose strand of your hair away from your face in a gentle gesture. You reach his mouth, fulfilling it, and after a lustful swirling of tongues that leave you lightheaded, you bite his lower lip playfully as you slowly start to ride him and the uncomfortable stretch gradually gives place to mind-numbing pleasure.

“Fuck, Mr. Sjöberg,” you sigh, pleasure heightened at the sight of Rex and Cody palming themselves to the vision unfolding in front of them. “You feel so good.” And God knows you truly meant it. After he teases you just enough for you to remember his size, both of his hands cup your asscheeks so he can fuck you deeper and properly, making you gasp at the adjustment of pace. You bury his face in your neck once again so you keep yourself from getting too loud at the heavenly invasion his cock is bestowing on you.

Your nails press against his tanned skin in a quiet plea to just keep going. While you feel the grasp you have in the situation is slipping away, you couldn’t have asked for a better way to lose control. “Listen,” he struggles to whisper between ragged breaths as your walls stimulate him for all he’s worth. “I wanna try something. Put your hand back where it was, love.”

“Okay,” you answer, a bit unsure of what he’s trying to do while you wrap your fingers around your gun again. It’s hard to think clearly when you’re as cockdrunk as you are. You could even be afraid that Jango and his cronies would be suspicious of the dialogue between you and Anakin, but given how concentrated they were in how your bodies clashed against each other in a desperate pursuit for release, you doubted they were going to do something about it. “Alright.”

“Remember our practice in California?” He lowers his whisper even more in order to make sure he’s not being heard clearly; for them to think his words are sweet nothings only as he buries himself inside of you again and again. It couldn’t be further from reality. “Put it to good use in 5…”

Ah yes, the time you and Anakin got sent to arrest Asajj Ventress.

You missed 12 shots before you got lucky enough to get your hands on her. She was your first higher profile arrest, though far from being your brightest.

Anakin, still your boyfriend at the time, promised he would rent a shooting range for an entire weekend just for the two of you. You felt a bit humiliated at first, but you knew it was necessary; he was the kindest at suggesting it and making his promise come true too, which made it easier for you to accept.

“4…” You’re scared shitless of the fact that you aren't able to do much more than take him, moaning out every time he pushes into you again. Whining at the loss of him when he pulls back. How the fuck were you supposed to incapacitate Rex and Cody?

“The most important thing along with being steady is to focus regardless of what’s going on around you or with you. Allow me to demonstrate.”

Of course there was a reason he wanted the range just to have the two of you in it.

Anakin Skywalker slowly worked your pants and panties down your thighs, spreading small kisses over feverish, eager flesh. By the time he had you trembling in anticipation and unable to keep his eyes off his, and before he buried his face between your legs, he gave you a devilish smirk. “Eyes up. I need you to be focused.”

“3…” You tried hard to piece two and two together while feeling the wetness between your thighs and hearing the sweet slick sounds of his cock moving so easily inside you.

You obey, sighing at the subsequent contact of his tongue and talented lips against your soaked cunt. His movements were experimental, unhurried yet immensely powerful. A drop of sweat slid down your face as you picked up your gun, keeping your finger outside the trigger guard, extended straight and flat on the side of the guard. “Ready,” he croaks between drags of his tongue against your most sensitive spot. You hold your weapon in the firing-ready position, nodding to yourself in reassurance.

“2…” Heat and the musky, spicy scent that is pure Anakin surrounds your senses. Pressing against your chest and filling your nose while his filthy words fill your ears like an overwhelmingly good version of white noise.

“Steady,” His warm and wide hands grasped at your asscheeks as he kept laving over your clit just fast enough to bring you steadily closer to climax, making your legs part even wider and your attention become even more split between the entity kneeled below you and the targets in front of you. You were unashamedly whining at the stimulation, resisting the painfully strong urge to close your eyes and let go. But you wouldn’t and couldn’t let him down.

“1…”

He pressed his tongue hard against your clit and dragged slowly upward, fingers digging into your butt to keep you skin tight close to him, and you came undone.

“Fire.”

To your utter befuddlement, the target dummy was never shot with such precision.

Just like Rex and Cody’s shoulders. Anakin just came deep inside of you while pointing his gun at a completely fucked up Jango, whose post-nut clarity hasn’t quite landed yet. “Jango Fett, you are now under arrest.” He uttered through heavy breaths, giving you a chaste kiss before you got off his lap and fixed yourself as much as you could in literal seconds. Your legs are still slightly trembling as you stride towards the injured men, cuffing them with cable ties you also hid in your coat after you kick their guns away. You throw one at Anakin so he finishes the job with his past acquaintance.

After he finishes reciting Jango’s Miranda Rights and listing all of the charges that led to his arrest, he tells the man, not taking his eyes off you: “You were right about one thing, actually. She’s sure worth it.”

The shared ride home is eerily quiet - just like the rest of the aftermath. You expected more bickering over the things that could’ve went wrong: ifs, buts, but nothing came.

And you hated that even more. But as fun as the mission was, there was no turning back to what you once had. Everyone probably thought that the fighting was just repressed desire to go back to each other’s arms, and maybe it was, but it was also a lot of unresolved pain that made you crystal clear that even though Anakin made you happy in so many ways, you were like a wishing well to his bolt of electricity, like Fiona Apple once wrote.

The words to her song Werewolf echoed repeatedly in your head.

We could still support each other, all we gotta do is avoid each other. Nothing wrong when a song ends in the minor key.

“What did you do in order to earn their trust and admiration like that?” Anakin’s voice breaks after a considerable time of not using it.

“What I had to do. Why do you care? We got the job done.” You answer apathetically.

He sighs, keeping any further words to himself.

“It was just a job.” He states, more in order to convince himself of that than to convince you. You feel like there’s more to come but you stop him dead in his tracks.

“It was just a job.” You answer in a reassuringly firm manner, grabbing your headphones and using sound to drown out the quiet.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker smut #reader insert #star wars fanfiction #smut

234 notes · View notes

tackytigerfic · 1 year

Text

Unfinished Friday

@wolfpants had the genius idea of sharing an excerpt from an abandoned WIP - I did a cheer read on the start of the fic and I can promise all the dron/dronarry fans that they are in for a treat when wolf does finish it!

this is a very fun idea for a post. i just dug through my docs and found SO MANY abandoned fics, why am i like this.

I have absolutely no recollection of this fic - the doc is called Livvy future fic and iirc it's one of three i started and abandoned as gifts for @sitp-recs😂and according to the one note i made, it's based on that tumblr post about Ron being a Seer. It ends mid-sentence 😅 I have to say I really want to read more of this so I might try to remember what I wanted to write and revisit it once my long fic is finished. The premise seems to be that the war is still raging and Draco defects and joins the Order (they are all adults). CW for Draco having been beaten up/injured. it's obvs unedited so apols for any clunkiness or typos

“But I don’t even like him,” Harry says, but Remus frowns at him, more disappointed than disapproving, and Malfoy looks as though he wants to say something rude back, which Harry would actually love. But then Malfoy tightens his lips, all the irritation carefully tweaked and smoothed from his face, a sort of social polite disinterest that reminds Harry of Sirius in Order meetings, and how had he never noticed how alike they look, even down to the matching gleam of candleflame on their long hair, bright and dark like empty mirrors of each other.

“I have options,” is all Malfoy says in reply, but Ron blows a raspberry at that until Percy elbows him, and Hermione says rudely, “Like what? Going on the run and dying at wandpoint within about two days? Because that plan’s been working out well for you so far.”

“Can we please just take a vote?” Kingsley is impatient, and rightly so; he hasn’t slept properly in weeks, probably, like the rest of them. Harry wants to vote no, he really does, but Malfoy starts quietly gathering his cloak around him, face stupid with pride, eyes blacked up and spongey like damaged fruit. It’s spite, mostly, that has Harry scribbling a yes, though in the end it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because the vote to let Malfoy stay passes at twelve in favour, seven against, which is more decisive than even Remus was expecting, judging by the look on his face.

“He can take the back attic,” Sirius says decisively, still the casual master of the house he hates so much, and Kreacher appears with a resentful crack to clear the plates as the others gather themselves to get home before the Floo curfew.

Harry follows Sirius closely up the stairs, almost treading on the back of his big boots, Malfoy moving almost soundlessly behind them.

“Voila,” Sirius says, and with a sweep of one arm ushers Malfoy into a real letdown of a room, practically Muggle this high up, no heat to speak of, not even a good view, nothing but the dreadful garden and the blank face of the back wall of the house behind.

“This is—” Malfoy starts.

Harry waits, tense, though Sirius just looks amused and almost gleeful, but Malfoy doesn’t finish. He sets his small rucksack down beside the bed, and walks over to the window, throws it up like a challenge, so the room buzzes with the distant sounds of a London night.

“Thank you,” Malfoy says, and Sirius nods and pads out. Malfoy watches him go, his face abruptly whitening up, like salt or puddled wax.

“You don’t get to be ungrateful about it, you know,” Harry tells him, stung by the look on Malfoy’s face.

“I don’t like you either,” is all Malfoy says, quietly but so viciously that Harry knows he means every word, then Sirius sticks his head back around the door and, seeing Harry’s face, bundles Harry out the door and back down two flights of stairs, where there’s at least a proper fire in the drawing room and the windows don’t rattle in the wind.

“Congratulations on your trial being overturned, Mr Malfoy,” Minerva says when she sees him, and Malfoy smiles tiredly and tries to push back his damp hair with his gauntleted hand.

***

Ron’s visions are getting worse, and Harry spends his twenty-sixth birthday preparing to brew Dreamless Sleep with Malfoy, because the new Ministry has reclassified Sopophorous Beans as a restricted product and all the apothecaries are running low. They can Apparate to Peterlee but that’s as close to the wards as they can get without their magical signatures being picked up, and it’s still a two-hour broom flight from there. Malfoy doesn’t even grumble even though it’s the hottest summer in years and by the time they arrive, their travelling cloaks are stuck to their backs with sweat.

“It was a sham,” Harry tells her. “They had no evidence, just a whole load of trumped up charges.”

They both look at him with raised eyebrows, and Harry makes a grateful retreat to the greenhouses where Professor Sprout and Neville have sackfuls of illicit produce waiting for him, which they spend a hot and grumpy hour rigging into a complicated harness to attach between the two brooms for the journey home. When Harry finally escapes, he goes down to the Lake for a swim. There’s no one around, all the students gone home, and Harry floats, feeling boneless, scoured clean by sun, belly up.

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop on Malfoy and Minerva, but he supposes they must not hear him coming. He’s still barefoot when he reaches the castle, clutching his grubby travelling clothes in his arms, the cooler air of the castle a delicious chill where it chases the water droplets on his skin.

“I need to look into it further,” Malfoy is saying, though Minerva speaks over him crisply, and they could almost be back at school.

“It’s absolutely no indication of any guaranteed outcome, Draco.”

Malfoy’s voice is getting higher and tighter, wound up to cracking. “It’s got to mean something though, Min. Don’t try to tell me you’re—”

“Temporal magic is notoriously unstable,” Minerva says, and then Harry drops one of his boots with a thump, and Malfoy and Minerva come around the corner to see what’s happening.

Malfoy goes red when he sees Harry, a crawling

A CRAWLING WHAT, PAST TACKY???

i'm tagging anyone who has docs filled with treasures languishing, plus @fluxweeed @thehoneybeet @maesterchill @m0srael @oknowkiss @saxamophone @shealwaysreads @sweet-s0rr0w

#jeez i have really been on my “the war is still raging” tip for quite a while now haven't i #i also have political drama/forced bond/magical world revealed to muggles/dudley has a magic baby fic #harry can't die but then draco does and he tries to get him back #unspeakable draco #and many more #i must have 40k or so of abandoned wips #i had not realised #wolf i'm so glad you started this #it's been fun looking through old docs

58 notes · View notes