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graceful-starker · 7 months

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Tony the Friendly Ghost

Summary: Peter's house is haunted by a very friendly, very horny ghost.

Warnings: mild dub-con for a second there, Tony is a ghost, mild come inflation, mostly just an excuse to write ghost porn ngl.

Notes: Blame @the-mad-starker for this one, ngl lol. I might add more to this AU, but I wanted to get the first installment out on Halloween. Happy Halloween!

~~~

Peter isn’t crazy, okay? His apartment is just haunted. He doesn’t care that MJ rolls her eyes in disbelief or that Ned laughs at him for believing in ghosts. There’s definitely, 100%, for sure a ghost in his apartment.

Peter winces as his ghost moves his couch loudly, the legs screeching horribly against the floor and thudding into the wall. “Okay, that’s really unnecessary!” Peter yells, walking into the living room and putting his hands on his hips. “I can’t afford to leave, you’re stuck with me, okay? You don’t have to rearrange all my furniture in protest.”

He doesn’t get a response; he isn’t sure his ghost even can. He’s never seen it, never heard it. He can only see what it does to his home. So far, at least. The couch is pulled back from the wall and slammed back into it again.

Peter sighs in annoyance, cocking his head to the side and staring at the couch. “Whatever, it looks better there anyway.”

The couch skirts across the floor, back to its original position, and Peter rolls his eyes as hard as he can. “Oh, fuck you. You’re just being annoying for the sake of it now.”

There’s no response, and Peter puffs out another sigh. “Stop rearranging my furniture, we’re going to get a noise complaint.”

There’s no response yet again, and Peter hums and turns to go back to his room. “Thank you,” he mumbles softly. He opens his door and gasps. “You asshole!” he yells, looking at his clothes flying out of his dresser. “Stop that!”

His ghost doesn’t, so he angrily grabs a towel and slams the bedroom door behind him to leave his ghost to their temper tantrum.

He locks the door to the bathroom as if that will stop the ghost from coming in and turns the shower to be extra hot. He strips and puts his clothes in the hamper, grumbling to himself under his breath.

He takes perhaps the angriest shower of his life, scrubbing furiously at his body and aggressively lathering his hair. “I should have known the rent was too good to be true,” he mumbles to himself, getting out of the shower and grabbing his towel. He’s calmed down a bit, has resigned himself to his fate of refolding all his clothes.

He finishes drying off his hair and wraps it around his hips, looking up at the vanity. He blinks, cocking his head to the side. In big blocky letters, drawn out in the steam on his mirror, is TONY.

“Tony?” he asks, and watches it be underlined. “Oh, your name is Tony,” he mumbles. “That’s a nice name.”

He doesn’t get a response, and Peter hums in thought. “I’m Peter,” he offers, feeling a bit silly. But Tony started it. “This doesn’t have to be a bad thing, you know. We can get along.”

YES appears on his mirror, and Peter smiles at it. “See? This’ll be great.”

Tony likes to talk to him, Peter has discovered. He likes leaving messages on the mirror whenever Peter showers, likes to ask questions and get Peter talking for long periods of time.

It got to the point where Peter decided: why limit this? He buys three white boards, sticks them to the walls in his kitchen, livingroom, and bedroom. Tony is very happy with these purchases, and has a preference for the red marker.

Peter has decided that Tony is an asshole, but he isn’t all that bad really. He’s kind of sweet too, and a good listener. He cares about Peter’s life, asks questions about it and encourages him to talk about it to Tony.

As far as ghosts go, Peter is sure he’s lucked out.

Peter laughs as he reads the question left for him in the bedroom, shaking his head fondly. “No, MJ isn’t my girlfriend. And she doesn’t even believe me when I tell her about you, she’s a real asshole like that. She’s not coming over any time soon.”

MJ IS NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?

“No, I don’t have one,” Peter says, shrugging. “I was dating Wade for a while, but we decided to just be friends instead.”

BOYFRIEND?

Peter frowns. “Oh, god, what time period are you from? I didn’t think to ask. People can do that now, it’s fine to be gay or whatever else now.”

NOT AN ISSUE.

“Oh, good,” Peter says, grinning at the board. “Because you’ve really grown on me, it would be a shame to find out my favorite ghost is homophobic.”

YOU KNOW OTHER GHOSTS?

Peter snorts, rolling his eyes fondly. He sits on the bed, crossing his legs. “Jealous?” There’s no response, and Peter giggles softly. “I don’t know any other ghosts, it was just a joke.”

I’M ALONE.

Peter frowns, taking in the words slowly. Tony must have been terribly lonely, before Peter came around. “Well, I’m here now. And you aren’t getting rid of me any time soon, we’ve already established this.” He tries to joke, but it sounds sad.

It’s quiet for a long time after that, the marker hovering in the air as if Tony is holding it limp at his side. Then the marker is placed down, and the door to Peter’s room shuts.

Peter sighs sadly, deciding to use the privacy while he has it; since Tony is invisible, he never knows for sure if he’s watching. He only knows if Tony does something like that; closes his door, or moves stuff around in another room.

Peter hums to himself as he gets out of the shower, drying off and wrapping his towel around his waist. His toothbrush is knocked over, and he looks at the mirror with a frown.

WHERE ARE YOU GOING?

“No where,” Peter says, turning and opening the door. “I just wanted to get clean.” He makes his way to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He opens a drawer in his dresser, before he looks over his shoulder at an insistent tapping noise. The marker is tapping against the whiteboard, and Peter sighs and walks over.

NO PLANS?

“Nope,” Peter says, turning back around. “Let me get dressed, we can talk-hey!”

Tony has ripped his towel away, throwing it across the room and leaving him naked. The marker is back on the white board, so Peter doesn’t know for certain where Tony is.

“Asshole,” he mumbles starting to walk towards his towel again. “You don’t-hey!”

Tony’s never touched him before this; it’s a little unsettling. Everywhere Tony touches him is extremely cold, and it sends a rush of adrenaline through him. One hand is wrapped around Peter’s wrist, twisting his arm behind his back and the other is on Peter’s hip. He’s bent over the bed, and the position brings a blush to Peter’s face.

“Hey!” Peter says, trying to wriggle free. “What are you doing? Let me go!”

Tony doesn’t. Instead, he moves his hand from Peter’s hip to his ass, petting at the flesh a couple times before spreading Peter’s cheeks apart.

Peter gasps and shivers at the feeling, trying to close his legs. “Tony! What are you doing?!”

Tony’s leg must go in between his, kicking his feet apart. Peter gasps and shivers, his legs shaking. Tony’s finger pets over his hole, and Peter whimpers.

“Tony, you can’t-you can’t! What are you-let me go, Tony!” Peter whines, trying to push off of the bed. Tony has never tried to hurt him before, not even when they weren’t talking yet and Tony was still trying to get rid of him. He’s more confused than scared.

Tony pushes his knee in between Peter’s thighs again, pushing up until his own thigh is pressing against Peter’s cock and rubbing back and forth.

Peter chokes and gasps, his hand clenching the sheets. “O-oh,” Peter chokes out, grinding down against Tony’s thigh. It feels so fucking wierd, so very cold but still so very good at the same time. Tony’s thigh rubs against him for a few minutes, and Peter continues to grind against it until he’s fully hard.

Tony pushes his finger in to the first knuckle, and Peter gasps. “Wait, don’t-oh god, oh,” Peter groans and pushes back into it, his cock leaking on Tony’s thigh. He can feel Tony’s cock hardening against his hip, and it’s so weird. This is so weird, he can’t even see Tony and Tony is about to-

Tony’s finger pushes deeper, and Peter whimpers. He can’t decide if he’s scared or not, can’t decide if he wants Tony to stop. He wants to tell Tony to wait, at least, to use lube. But then he realizes-

There is no friction. His hole is just stretching around nothing, there’s nothing really there.

“Oh, fuck,” Peter gasps, hanging his head and arching his back. “Oh, please, more. Tony, please.”

Tony pulls his finger out and Peter whines, but then he’s pushing two in. Peter’s head throws back, and he gasps loudly. Tony’s fingers start moving in and out of him quickly, already scissoring him apart.

Peter wonders if Tony can see himself, or there’s nothing there for him as well. If he just has a view of Peter’s hole being stretched around nothing, or if it looks normal for him. “Oh, fuck, Tony. Please Tony, please, more, I need-oh fuck, please!”

Tony lets go of his wrist for the first time since this started, pulling his fingers out abruptly. Peter whines at the loss, scared that Tony’s going to leave now. He worries himself for nothing; Tony simply picks him up and turns him around, and Peter lands on his back halfway up the bed.

He doesn’t like this position as much; he can see that no one is there. It’s freaking him out, making him think too much. “Tony,” he chokes, chest heaving. He gets up on his elbows, digging his heels into the bed.

Invisible hands push his thighs far apart, and Tony’s cock presses bluntly against Peter’s hole. It pushes and pushes, until it slips past and slides up Peter’s balls.

Peter gasps loudly, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. It feels so weird but so good, and if he closes his eyes he can just pretend it’s fine. “Oh, fuck, Tony. Please, please fuck me, please get inside me, I want-oh my god!”

Tony had pulled his cock back to try again, pressing insistantly until the head finally popped past Peter’s rim.

Peter’s mouth falls open, and he has to fist the sheets to stop himself from screaming. It feels so fucking good inside of him, so incredibly strange but in a pleasant way. “Oh, fuck,” Peter gasps, sucking in a desperate breath.

Tony starts to slowly push forward, and forward and forward until Peter feels like he can feel it in the back of his fucking throat.

“Oh god, Tony, oh fuck, how fucking big are you?” He can’t see it, can’t know how much there is left to go. “Oh, stop, it won’t fit!” Peter cries.

Tony doesn’t listen, continues pushing in until his hips finally slap into Peter’s ass with an audible slap.

Peter groans loudly, his legs shaking, his chest heaving. “Oh god, Tony,” he gasps, opening his eyes and regretting it immediately. There’s no one there, there’s no body attached to the cock currently splitting him in half, no hands keeping his thighs apart. He’s just being filled up by nothing, his stomach is protruding with a cock that isn’t there.

Tony starts to slowly pull back out, and Peter watches in fascination as Tony’s head visibly moves down his torso. “Oh,” Peter moans.

Tony only pulls halfway out before pushing back in, his hips slapping hard against Peter’s.

“Oh, fuck,” Peter gasps, throwing his head back again as Tony sets up a brutal pace. He feels like he might actuall die, like Tony is actively fucking him to death. He’s so fucking big, and the pace is brutal, and he’s fucking Peter so hard he’s being pushed up the bed.

Tony’s left hand leaves his thigh, after moving Peter’s leg around to grip around his waist. Instead it presses down harshly against Peter’s stomach where his head reaches when he goes as deep as possible.

Peter moans, almost screams, watching his torso with dark eyes. It’s the only visible proof he has, the only thing proving that he isn’t batshit crazy. He’s being fucked by a ghost; a ghost hung like a horse besides. “Tony!”

Tony somehow speeds up, slapping his hips so hard against Peter’s that it hurts, and he knows he’s going to be feeling this for days.

“Please,” Peter moans, moving one hand to wrap around his cock. “Oh god, please, I want it. Please! Please Tony, please come inside me, I want it so bad!”

Tony’s right hand tightens on his thigh, enough that the skin goes white and he’s sure it’s going to leave a mark. His hips stutter, and he fucks into Peter a few more times before burying himself balls deep and grinding there.

It feels so fucking weird. It’s still cold, but it’s definetly real and wet inside of him. Peter’s eyes go lidded and he strokes himself quickly, enjoying the feeling of being stretched, of how deep Tony is, of being filled up.

Peter almost doesn’t notice at first, but Tony hasn’t stopped grinding into him and filling up for longer than a human would have. His eyes widen as it hits him, his hand stilling on his cock. “Oh, god, Tony?”

Tony pulls half out and slaps his hips back in, grinding again. The hand on Peter’s stomach leaves to start stroking Peter instead.

Peter’s stomach starts to distend, and his jaw drops as he realizes just how much Tony is filling him up. “Oh, fuck, Tony! Tony, it’s too much!”

Tony speeds his hand up on Peter’s cock, and Peter whines loudly. He finishes to the strange feelings, hands gripping the sheets desperately and head thrown back. He comes so hard that it hits his chin, and Tony wrings every last drop out of him.

Peter pants heavily once it’s over, groaning at the sight of his come painting Tony’s fist white. He can kind of see it now, see the outline. He already knew from the way they felt inside of him, but Tony’s fingers are thick.

He’s still buried to the hilt inside of Peter, and Peter whines as his stomach continues to grow. He feels some being fucked out of him as Tony grinds, and he’s so overstimulated at this point. “Tony, ‘s too much!”

Tony finally finishes filling Peter up minutes later, when Peter’s stomach is pudged and he looks like he has a small baby bump. Oh, and isn’t that a new idea? He grinds into Peter once more, keeping him plugged up apparently. He really wishes that Tony could talk to him.

“I’m too full,” Peter complains, nudging at Tony’s torso with his knee. “Get out of me.”

Tony pets at Peter’s stomach, and maybe he’s just as turned on by the sight as Peter is. Peter’s spent sock twitches, but it’s way too soon for him to go again.

“Tony,” Peter whines, clenching around him. “Out.”

Tony hesitates once more, but finally pulls out slowly. He leaves his head insides, teasing Peter’s rim with the widest part.

Peter moans at the feeling, before whimpering again. “Tony, please, it’s too much!”

Tony finally takes mercy on him, popping his head out but keeping Peter’s thighs spread open.

Peter whimpers, face red with embarrassment, knowing that Tony is staring at his hole. He wonders what it looks like right now; wonders how much of Tony’s come is leaking out of him, how gaped open he is.

He reaches around himself, ignoring Tony squeezing his thighs, and stuffs a few fingers into himself. Tony squeezes tighter, before finally letting him go.

Peter pulls his fingers out, eyes lighting up when he realizes he can see Tony’s come on his fingers. Physical proof of what Tony did to him.

He clenches around nothing, winces when he feels some more of Tony’s come slide out of him and onto the bed. “Fuck, Tony,” he whispers, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking curiously. It tastes about the same as normal, it’s just cold. A little gross.

Peter pulls his fingers away and gasps when Tony’s hand cups his cheeks, and he thnks Tony is kissing him because his lips are cold. He tries to kiss back, closes his eyes so he doesn’t feel like he’s kissing air. It’s much easier when his eyes are closed for his mind to accept this.

Tony finally pulls away, and Peter falls back on the bed with a final pant. “Fuck,” he whispers to the room.

Peter looks when at the tapping noise against the board, snorting when he sees it. “Now you ask?” he snarks, rolling his eyes.

CAN WE DO THAT AGAIN? Stays on his board, unerased, even the next time they do this.

#starker #my writing #fanfics

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aluhnim · 6 months

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Hello!! When you start a comic, how do you go about deciding your panelling layouts?? If this is too big of an ask for covid brain, how about your favorite song of the moment / a song that really inspires you?? I hope you feel better soon!

I was searching around for an old write up I did for some Original Character Tournament folks who were interested in my thoughts on panels and layouts. To try and answer your question, I go off of vibe now that I’ve made a LOT of comics. However, as much as it doesn’t seem like it at times, I do typically stay as “conventional” as possible to make sure my readers are still following the plot. I make a lot of adjustments along the way. Smarter layouts allow me to draw less, and drawing less is better for me in the long run! It’ll allow me to put more time in other places of the comic.

Anyway, here’s my write up back in the day that’ll hopefully answer some comic drafting questions!

More conventional paneling is a necessary stepping stone because you know your reader won’t get lost and the structure will have you more focused on flow and pacing. It seems remarkably easy to do comics with more “static” or traditional panel layouts but they work for a reason. There’s no real need to break out of something that works, unless you want to! Breaking out of the structure can really add some OOMPH to your important pages.

Some tips, note that these have been my preferences and some definitions don’t quite match their descriptors.

Bleed

I consider open panels or panels that stretch out beyond the edge of the page to be considered bleeds. They’re simple ways to make you feel like your not just sticking within your margins and making your page feel less static without much extra effort. Manga does this quite often, and Western American comics, especially during action packed moments or large splashes.

Some examples of things bleeds can do:

- They can also be used as transitions between pages (first panel bleeding in, last panel bleeding out).

- They can be used to interrupt or add a beat to a moment. Although the example below is mostly bleeds, you can see the one full panel at the bottom stands out because it’s not like the others. A subtle beat.

- They can also just be used to extend a panel to make it bigger. That seems obvious, but larger panels do make people spend a bit more time on them, regardless if there is text or not. Though, “more time” means probably several milliseconds or even a few seconds more than usual.

- Collaging with a bleed is a really great way to think beyond panels and open the space. You will be spending more time thinking of how much you can cram in along with the flow of how your text is going to lead through a series of images.

- Removing panel borders can really open a space and allow for more room without having to go above and beyond the ideas of comics and panels. (sorry, gale galligan is just good)

Gutters

The space between panels is almost just as important as the panel itself. That’s where readers and inferring actions and time. You can only control so much of what the reader is doing between their eye shifting between panels, which is why composition within panels and clarity are so important.

Gutters can also be played with! A simple example is changing your gutters from white to all black. It can be a subtle shift in time, a transition to a new space.

Even the amount of space between panels leaves an idea of time! I think webtoons/manhwa really work well with the gutter space, leaving you to physically scroll and feel the effects of time passing with the amount of empty space you encounter.

It’s important to understand that the gutter has a lot more to do with reader imagination, and your goal is to have them understand that the next panel is somehow plausible.

THIS SCENE EMFIELDS DID IS VERY FUCKING GOOD. TIME, SPACE, GO OOOOOOFFFF KING

Panels themselves can be a part story!

This one is a difficult thing to write for, since I feel like there isn’t many examples out there. There are very structural examples of panels out there, like Watchman. While the 9 panel grid was intentional, it also was likely the only way to deal with Alan Moore’s script effectively without missing details. The panels themselves don’t ENHANCE the story, but a means to an end.

But it’s also an incredibly good example of how conventional comics paneling can still be effective, especially when you start breaking that mold just a little bit.

But then you have comics like M. Dean’s “Baby fat”. Where the comic paneling itself never strays from its original structure, but is indicative of the story itself, representing tiles, mirrors, patterns.

Or Robert Hunter’s “The New Ghost” which he uses circular motifs and has circular panels representing the telescopes sight line.

Predicting Reader Navigation

These are my rules of thumb when doing general sight reading panel by panel.

1. Text is what people gravitate to first. It’s the context needed to approach the next panel.

2. Faces are next, this provides context to what the subject is feeling.

3. Familiar people/animals/objects and SFX.

4. Everything else!

This is an example of sight reading notes I gave to my friend Holocene when we were collaborating.

#long post #asks #blogging

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elletheactualmenace · 4 months

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You Would do That for Me? - Pt. 2

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!fem!reader

Summary: Todays the day. You and Peter are going to confess your “secret relationship”. How will your best friends take it?

Warnings: swearing, Not in this part but is present in other parts -Verbal assault, Little but some physical assault, Catcalling, Bullying,

Word Count: 3.5k

a/n: Sorry this took so long, lifes been crazy recently. Sorry in advance to any star war lovers. Let me know if I missed any warnings. And also @kaleidoscopewritings19 you asked me to put you on my tag list so here! Im glad I could be of some help, and thanks for being interested in my writing! Anyways enjoy this part!

Thoughts = “Italicized dialogue”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

“Peter!” Someone calls and Peter turns from his place at his open locker. He sees Ned walking over with a tired smile on his face.

“Hey,” Peter waves before turning back to his locker to pull books out and put them in.

“Guess what?” Ned asks spinning the lock on his locker, which was right next to Peters.

“What?”

“I found it.” Peter stops his movements. And he turns his head slowly to Ned with wide eyes.

“You found it? Like actually found it?” Peter asks in disbelief.

“Yeah.” Ned nods slowly so Peter catches it.

“How? Where?” Peter asks quickly. And Ned pauses, like he’s been caught. Peters brows scrunch in confusion.

“Okay, now, hear me out,” Ned starts chuckling nervously. “It wasn’t the official site, but-“

“You didn’t order it from a legitimate, original site?” Peter asks face palming. Ned really wants a Lego set that has been sold out for weeks, and desperate times call for desperate measures.

“I never said it was illegal.” Ned argues, opening his locker and quickly stuffing some of his textbooks in.

“So it was a scam?” Peter asks as Ned shuts his locker, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“Not a scam.” Ned counters.

“Definitely a scam.”

“No, no, no, Peter, listen to me, I know it isn't a scam, because my cousins, best friends, little brother also ordered from the website and it came." Ned says like he is trying to convince himself.

"I don't think that's a credible source, dude. Have you even met your cousins, aunts, friends, brother?" Peter asks skeptically, raising a brow.

"It was my cousins, best friends, little brother." Ned grumbled out with an eye roll. And Peter puts his hands up in defense.

“The fact that you have to correct him just proves the point more.” Peter hears your voice and before his eyes even meet you butterflies erupt in his stomach. He tries to push away the nervousness and act normal.

“See exactly!” Peter exclamins in your dereliction. Ned leans in close to Peter's ear.

“She’s only agreeing with you because she likes you.” Ned whispers in an annoyed voice. Immediately Peter's face goes bright pink in embarrassment. He hits Ned's arm and steps away from him so he can rub the back of his neck. Peter begs anything that may be listening that you didn’t hear Ned.

You couldn’t like him. He isn’t your type. You deserve someone who’s confident, handsome and in your league. All the things Peter doesn’t excel in.

“My point proven,” Ned says quietly. Peter begs anything that may be listening that you didn’t hear Ned.

Before Peter can form a rebuttal the bell rings. He sighs still embarrassed trying to look anywhere but your face.

“Okay come on you five year olds, let's stop arguing about credible sources, and whose brother said what.” You put your hands on both Peter and Ned's backs, pushing them to their first period. The second your hand meets the fabric of Peter sweatshirt his whole body stiffens. Peter tries to ignore the fact that you’re touching him, and focus on walking.

——

“You would- do that for me?” Peter's heart is pounding, he can’t believe this is happening. There is no way that you are asking him if you can be his girlfriend.

When the words fall from his mouth he really wants you to reply with something romantic like “I’d do anything for you,” and then kiss him till he feels dizzy, but he knows his wishful thinking is only that, a wish.

“Well, I mean, sure. And anyways, you’d keep the creepy guys away from me.” His eyes grow impossibly wider.

What is happening? Did he do something? Are you messing with him? Why in the world would you, Y/n Stark, be asking little nobody Peter Parker to be your boyfriend?

Peter’s mouth is agape and he's trying to figure out how to speak. He can’t form a sentence with everything running through his head.

“God, Peter stop being an idiot for once and say something to her! She's waiting.”

“I- I-“

“Just spit it out, Peter.”

“I would love- to be your boyfriend Y/n.” Peter sees your shoulders untense and drop before a smile is plastered on your face.

“Really?” You ask him and he nods so fast it gives him whiplash. Of course he wants to, how could he not. He wants to pour his heart and soul out to you right now, for fucks sake.

“Yeah.” He replies with such a big smile it hurts his face.

“I can’t believe you said yes,” You blurt out. Peter hesitates before asking, not wanting this beautiful moment to so quickly fade.

“Why would I say no?”

“Well- umm- i don’t know.” You shrug awkwardly. Peter blinks waiting for an answer.

“I donno, I thought maybe you would think it would ruin our friendship.” Peter nods in understanding.

“But- but I want you to know that this is strictly pretend. And for the benefit of both of us.” You comment quickly, trying to explain the rules of the agreement.

Peter's heart is hit with a pang of sadness. He wishes it was real with all of his heart. But for now, he has to be happy at the opportunity to even pretend to date you. After all, you asked him. Not Ned, not some random guy, him. And god, did that make his heart swell.

“Yeah, of course.” He says, nodding quickly.

“Okay good.” You say, “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Peter only nods with a smile. His face may be calm and collected but his heart is doing flips.

“When- when will this,” he pauses, not sure if he can use the word he wants to use. “Relationship being? Or sorry- when will we- you know, start?” Peter asks in a jumble of words.

Your brows furrow. You didn’t get that far, unfortunately. You tap your chin in thought.

“Umm…not sure. Tomorrow maybe?” You say, still thinking.

“Tomorrow!?”

Peter thinks as panic, excitement and horror sets in. He’s happy but nervous, everything is happening so fast.

“Yeah um-“ his voice cracks and he curses the puberty gods for being so cruel.

“Sounds good.” He says more calmly this time.

You outstretch your hand to shake his, he does the same.

“Okay. Tomorrow it is.” You say with a smile. “But before that, I think we need to clear a few more things up. Just to make it convincing.”

Peter nods in agreement, trying to look as smart and put together as you are right now. But in reality he’s just happy you haven’t stopped shaking his hand.

——

Peter's day has been crazy. When he woke up this morning he hadn’t and couldn’t have thought or dreamed up anything that’s happened.

First, almost missing the train, second getting humiliated in front of the whole class, he could’ve thought that up, but, you being there to hear it and then standing up for him? He couldn’t believe it. And second, which happened to be more unbelievable, you asked him the question he’s been trying to find the courage to ask you. But even better, you skipped right to boyfriend and Girlfriend. You skipped the awkward dating and testing the water straight to holding hands and cuddling.

Obviously he didn’t mean that that’s what was going to happen, but one could only hope. And even if the hand holding wouldn’t happen at least he could call himself your boyfriend.

He always tries to stay level headed whenever Flash is like that. He doesn’t want it to get to his head, that could affect his productivity and performance in both school and as Spiderman. It also helped to know that Flash looked up to Spiderman and thought he was cool, that made the tension in his fist easy up whenever Flash said something dickish.

Overall, Peter has had a great day. Now he is laying in bed after patrol, his mind is racing with a million thoughts a second. He still needed to process everything that happened that day.

You and Peter had discussed and decided to keep the bid up around Ned and MJ. You both concluded it would be more convenient and convincing if they believed it too.

You also talked about the backstory. You would go to school and pretend like you were both coming clean about your hidden ‘relationship’ after a couple months of not telling them. You’d confessed to ‘falling in love’ with each other over Summer break. And after a while decided to ‘try it out’. And here you were.

It was a perfect plan. You and Peter had in fact spent a portion on summer break together at your Dads beach house. Ned couldn’t go and a family emergency kept MJ from coming. So you and Peter were alone. It’s the perfect setting for a fake love story.

Peter knew that Ned would be so mad that he wasn’t in on the secret relationship. He needed a good cover for that. After all, Peter told Ned he was Spiderman, and you still don’t know. Hopefully he could also make sure Ned didn’t tell you any secrets that didn’t need to be shared. Like the fact that Peter has a big fat crush on you. And has been crushing for quite some time now.

If Ned slips that piece of information to you, you’ll know he actually likes you. It would be awkward. And obviously Ned will think you guys or together so it doesn't matter, because you both like each other. While, in fact you are only doing this for the mutual benefit of the both of you, not because you like him like that.

God. He had so much to prepare for. And you stayed late, making his patrol rounds run later. He's exhausted, but he can’t sleep until he comes up with a way to protect his fragile ego.

You on the other hand aren’t as anxious, you have a plan. Kind of, it's more like a detailed outline with missing chunks. But a plan nonetheless. You know what you’ll say to MJ when she gets pissed at you for not telling her. And you know what you’ll say when she eventually forgives you for not telling her and then asks about all the details of your relationship.

You know what you’ll say, and you are prepared. You just hope it won’t come to her asking if you two have gone farther than a kiss.

——

“We got this.” Peter whispers to himself as he waits for you at the school’s entrance. His head is down in thought. Mind and body both anxious.

“Definitely got this.” Peter jumps at the sound of your voice. He didn’t sense you at all. Not that it would trigger his Peter tingle, like aunt May liked to call it, because you weren’t dangerous.

“Sorry,” you apologize “didn't mean to spook you. But we do got this. We’ll be fine.” You say reaching up to rub his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

Peter's body stiffens and you pull away, not trying to make him more uncomfortable. But in reality he was just nervous around you.

You pause, a little worried about him.

“You know we don’t have to do this Pete.” You smile softly.

“No, no, no, no, no.” He rambles out quickly, “We do- I mean we should.” He stumbles over his words.

“I'm good.” confirms, and he takes a quick breath and nods to you. You nod back smiling at him.

“Okay then,” You say, sheepishly offering your hand to him. “Let's do this.”

Peter’s hand slips into yours and his heart beats so loud he can hear it. From the looks of it, you aren’t as in awe as he is with the two of you holding hands. But why would you? You’re not really together or anything.

You and Peter walk down the hall in silence, both anxious of the awkward conversation that's going to take place. Peter's head spins and he keeps his eyes down avoiding any human interactions, trying to think. He thought about this all last night, sure, but one night to think about something this big isn’t a lot of time. You probably just want the help you need as soon as possible.

“Wait,” the thoughts in his head stop for a second as something dawns on him. “What is Y/n getting out of this fake relationship?”

He felt so stupid for not thinking about it before now, and he felt like an asshole even more for not asking you. What was going on in your life, that you needed a boyfriend to fix? Were you getting made fun of too? Or was it worse than that?

He tries to think back to last night, when you asked him to be your fake boyfriend. What had you said? His mind is scavenging through everything from last night.

“Okay, calm down Peter. Just think. What did she say? How did the conversation start? She had to have said the reason at some point.

She said:

‘I could pretend to be your girlfriend at school and stuff. Then no one would ever give you a hard time,’

Then I said:

‘You would do that for me?’

Then she said:

…

What did she say after that? Oh god, what did she say?”

Peter panics. He has been so wrapped up in his own gain, that he forgot he was supposed to be helping you too. There was something you needed him for. But he couldn’t remember.

Peter opened his mouth to ask you, worry and guilt, replacing the previous anxiety. There was a pit so deep in his stomach he swore he could throw a rock in and it would take an hour for it to hit the bottom.

He lips part ready to ask, but he doesn’t get to, because his eyes catch sight of MJs worn down Converse All-stars. He lifts his gaze to meet MJs. He can’t bring it up right now.

“Peter?” She asks, “You good? You look like you did when you first found out Y/n doesn’t like Star Wars.” MJ informs.

You laugh at MJs comment and it makes him turn to look at you. He’ll have to ask you about it later. Right now you both have to “come clean” to your two best friends.

“Yeah, umm” He clears his throat, “I'm good, sorry, just thinking.” MJ keeps her eyebrow raised as Ned walks over butting into the conversation.

“Also, why are you and Y/n holding hands like you're on a date?” You again laugh, but this time awkwardly.

“Well,” You smile shyly, Peter squeezes your hand lightly, letting you know he's here for you. You give him a soft smile and a nod of appreciation. “We have something to tell you guys.”

“Yeah,” Peter adds on with a smile. Ned and MJ give each other looks before turning their focus on your and Peters intertwined hands. MJ squints, deep in thought, and Ned looks between the two of you quickly.

“Don’t tell me,” MJ eventually sighs, she's come to the conclusion after “close” inspection.

“We’re dating.” Peter confirms, anxiously looking at his two friends and then to you.

“We have been for a couple months now,” You add, “We’ve just been waiting for the right time to tell you.” You say stepping closer to Peter.

“WHAT?!?!” Ned screams. You flinch slightly, as does MJ and Peter. “And you didn’t think to tell your bestfriend?!” Ned lowers his voice when he notices all the eyes on him from people in the hallway. But the anger in his voice doesn’t waver.

“I-“ Petter stutters, not knowing what to say.

“How did it happen?” MJ asks, tapping her foot. She looks a little annoyed. Peter guesses, it's because Y/n hadn’t told her about their secret relationship. “Or what happened?”

“To sum it up real fast for everyone,” Y/n started, “And I can explain it better later, we started dating over summer break when we were at my dads beach house.” Ned and MJ look at you waiting for you to continue.

“We were alone, and I guess it provoked our confessions and, well here we are.” You say blankly, hoping for a good reaction.

“Why didn’t you tell me Peter? I'm your best friend.” Ned asks sadly.

“We just didn’t want to say anything because we were testing it out, in case it didn’t work, we didn’t want to break up the friend group. We wanted to be sure we were serious.” Peter quickly adds on quickly to try to explain the situation. Ned nods, understanding a bit more now.

“So, you too are serious?” MJ asks. You just shrug with a smile, and a smirk grows on her lips “I knew it. I knew something was going on-”

“What are you talking about?” You cut her off, your eyes wide and voice anxious. Peter notices for a second before Ned speaks up.

“Ohh,” Ned says in realization, “So, this is why you-“ Peter rips his hand from yours to cover Ned's mouth, not wanting him to say something embarrassing. Peter's eyes get big and he slowly shakes his head.

“I- Can we talk about this at our lockers please?” Peter asks nervously. Peter quickly nods to you and MJ before walking off.

You are too focused on MJ to see him walk off, but he does see your flustered face. He's too preoccupied to dwell on that right now.

“Oh my god, Ned no.” Peter scolds as they get to their lockers.

“What?” Ned asks, confused. “It's not like it's a secret now, you like her and she likes you.”

“Yeah but,” He pauses and sighs, twisting the lock on his locker. “You can’t tell her anything I’ve told you.”

“Why not? You're together now, what does it matter?” Peter's face flushes, “Ohh, you haven’t told her everything, have you?” Ned realizes.

Peter shakes his head confirming Ned's words.

“And I don’t need her to find them out. So please for my dignity and sanity don’t.” Peter pleads, finishing moving his books from his locker to his bag and vice-versa.

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Ned nods, reluctantly understanding. Ned pauses, as Peter shuts his locker and turns to him.

“What?” Peter wonders aloud his eyebrows scrunched.

“I can’t even tell her how long you’ve been crushing? It's not like it matters or anything.” Ned begs with a whine, he wants to tell you so bad, it's so funny, and it was cute to see him so fond of you.

“No Ned, no.” Peter says seriously. Ned grumbles angrily, but eventually nods in agreement.

“Listen, she doesn’t even know about-“ Peter starts before leaning in to whisper to Ned, “Spiderman.” He leans back and continues to talk normally.

“So you can’t tell her anything. At all. I don’t need her freaking out.” Peter sighs, rubbing his temples. Ned nods again.

“Okay. I promise I won’t say anything.” Ned says a little disappointed.

“I'm being serious, Ned. You can’t say anything. Not about him, or about my-“ Peter pauses to blush.

“My crush,” utters quietly. “Nothing at all. I mean it.” Peter continues.

“I know.” Ned rolls his eyes, “My mouth is shut.” Peter nods thanking him. And they both just stand there for a second. After a minute Ned speaks up.

“I can still talk to her though, right?”

“What?” Peter asks, confused at the question.

“Like, Y/n, I mean. You and I are friends and I don’t want to cross any lines or anything.” Ned responds sheepishly.

“Oh my god,” Peter laughs, less anxious now, “Yeah, goodness. I'm not going to make you stop talking to her.”

“You guys are friends, and I'm not a crazy boyfriend.” Peter comments laughing again. Ned starts laughing with him. Peter smiles softly thinking about how much he liked to word boyfriend coming out of his mouth, it rolled off his tongue perfectly, he was a boyfriend. Not just that, he was your boyfriend.

“Right, just making sure.” Ned chuckles, pulling Peter from his thoughts, now feeling less stressed about the whole situation. “You never know.” Ned adds with a smile..

“I'm also sorry for not telling you sooner, Ned.” Peter quickly apologizes. “You are my best friend, so you should have known sooner, I just-“

“It's alright Peter. I get it. It's hard, at least I know now.” Ned responds.

“Plus, now you can tell me about all the stuff you two have been up to.” Ned smirks at Peter who is blushing profusely.

“Ned- we didn’t- I mean haven’t-“ Ned rolls his eyes with a smile.

“Sure you haven’t,” Ned chuckles, “I understand if you don’t feel uncomfortable with-“

“Ned! Oh my god, stop!” Peter stuffs his hands into his face embarrassed. And Ned just laughs as he drags Peter to their first period.

Peter wants to be present and happy with Ned, but he can’t get his mind off of you, and what you said. Or, what you said that he can’t remember. Why did you need to fake a relationship? What did he need to protect you from?

Tag List:

@riordanness

@princess-ofthe-pages

@sunnyx07

@hollandweather

#peter parker #x reader #peter parker x reader #mcu peter parker #mcu peter x reader #Spiderman #peter parker x you

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leaawrites · 2 months

Text

Rumors

Luke Castellan × Ares!daughterCharacter

My first official character in a fanfiction! Her name is Anya. Face claim: Ava Aley Rementegui

Summary: A rumor might viewed as bad, but in this case it pays out for her.

Warnings: Original Character, fluff, rumors, none really

Wordcount: 1,4k

In cooperation with @curlymeme

Thank you so much for this idea!!

Masterlist

Rumors spread like wildfire. A common phrase that’s hiding the anxious feeling building up in your chest whenever you walk outside with a burden to carry. A lie so big that you can’t just deny it. Someone will always refer to it, bring it back from the death only to embarrass you.

People are lousy, nosy creatures. There should be little to no surprise at the fact that stuff like rumors exist. As a daughter of Ares and one of Clarisse’s close friends, Anya was used to people talking about her. Especially after Percy Jackson entered the camp. There was really no peace for her after that boy arrived. Clarisse felt the constant need to pick on him and Anya couldn’t blame her. he definitely was a hand full. Though, to her surprise, not everyone seemed to be fed up with him all the time.

“How can you possibly go on quests with him?” The red head asked Annabeth, leaning on the wall of the Athena cabin next to her.

“He can be nice, sometimes,” she answered, not knowing herself how she put up with him most of the time.

“I don’t believe you on that topic,” Anya told her, which surprised herself, since she mostly agreed with the wise girl.

In her head, it wasn’t an insult like Clarisse planned it to be. It was more of a compliment. Annabeth was wise. There was no doubt to that in anyone’s mind. She should know it as well.

Even when she tried to be on her sisters side completely, Annabeth was the exception. The sweet girl always got to calm her down. Anya didn’t know how she would survive camp without her.

“Anyway, I saw you watch Luke quite often these last days. What’s up with that?” Annabeth asked her, changing the topic but not to one in Anya’s favor.

The girl stopped breathing for a second. She knew that Annabeth would notice something sooner or later, but she hoped it would take her a bit longer to figure things out. Anya should’ve known that she was wrong. Annabeth was always one step ahead of her, she probably already knew about her feelings before Anya herself. She swore to herself that she wouldn’t fall for the stupid boy. She swore it after seeing all the other girls in camp practically drooling over him whenever he walked by. The sappy stories she heard from the Aphrodite cabin about love and it’s complicated sides was enough to scare her away from it. But something about him made it difficult to ignore him. How could she not watch his scar wrap itself in his skin, trailing her eyes along it like following a river? How could she not admire the way his body moved whenever he fought someone? He was better than her, better than anyone else in camp. How could she not admire him when he was almost perfect? She couldn’t stop the feelings from growing. Couldn’t stop the stupid butterflies that would swarm her stomach whenever he smiled in her direction.

It ruined her. Those stupid thoughts she had about Luke Castellan were only a method of life to get her to break. She would eventually fall under the knife of heartbreak and be admired by a former lover for the last time before sacrificing herself in order of not being hurt too much. ironic, isn’t it?

“There is nothing going on?” Anya tried to defend herself. If she couldn’t have him, why would she admit some stupid thoughts?

“You know, you should just tell him,” Annabeth told her. “There’s nothing to lose.”

“Yeah, nothing to lose, besides my reputation and potentially a friend,” Anya tried to make Annabeth drop the subject. She didn’t want to talk about it clearly, but Annabeth knew something she didn’t. She noticed his stares as well.

“You wouldn’t lose a friend. You’re not friends with Luke, are you?” Annabeth asked her.

“But we’re friendly,” Anya tried to explain herself. she maybe wasn’t yet friends with the golden Hermes boy, but she was sure she soon would be. Or at least she hoped so. Annabeth raised her eyebrows at her, knowing that it wasn’t the truth. The only thing they did was smile at each other. It was pathetic in her opinion. “What would I even say, if I would confess? Which I won’t. Just walk up to him and ask if we could be like girlfriend and boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth shrugged like it was nothing. Just normal Wednesday evening events. Like eating dinner.

“What? So, then Luke is my boyfriend?” She asked her friend with a funny look on her face. She wanted to show that something like that wouldn’t work. Not even if she was drunk and completely out of her mind. “It’s not that easy, Annabeth.”

“Whatever.” the younger girl rolled her eyes at the red head. “If you won’t say a word about it, at least stop complaining that he doesn’t notice you.”

“I never complained,” Anya defended herself, but was quickly defeated when Annabeth looked at her seriously. “Whatever.”

The hour was early, too early for her. Anya stood by the side of some kids, helping them finish up their chores. The looks she received from them ever since last night weren’t going past her anymore. Some looked at her with their hand over their mouth, hiding their giggles as she walked past. Others - especially the younger girls - were watching her with sour, threatening eyes. She tried to ignore them at first, assuming that Clarisse did something stupid again. But when she asked her sister, she just looked at Anya confused and disappointed. It’s sad to know that her sister assumed the worst from her.

All of a sudden an arm wraps itself around her waist, pulling her close, further away from the kids. She wanted to push the person away, punching them in the face for being so close to her without her consent.

“Hello, girlfriend.” A voice stops her from moving for a second. This had to be a dream, right? This can’t be reality. At least not a reality she lives in.

“What are you doing, Luke?” she asks the boy behind her, still pushing him away from her a bit, which made him let her go. Her face was heating up, lending color to her pale skin.

“We don’t have to hide it anymore,” he tells her like it’s nothing. Unbothered by the looks the pair received, he continued talking. “I’m glad you finally admitted it to someone, even when I was sure Annabeth already knew.”

Anya looks at him with a confused face. Eyes scrunched together while she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to not start screaming in confusion. “What is going on?”

Luke laughs at her, grabbing her hand gently, leaving butterflies to swarm her stomach, leading Anya away from the group of kids she was supposed to watch. They disappear from the eyes, falling into a calm tempo, their hearts both racing.

“Rumor goes around that I’m your boyfriend, which means that you’re my girlfriend,” Luke explains the situation to her, still holding her hand while they stand side by side, looking at the other.

“Rumors? How? Why?” She wanted to ask more question, but Anya decided to stay silent for now when she saw in Luke’s eyes that he had an answer.

“An Aphrodite kid overheard you telling that to Annabeth,” he told her. Anya’s eyes widen, she did say that. But not in that sense. She had no idea that someone would overhear them. “Now my question is, why would you say something like that to Annabeth?”

Anya tried to come up with a reasoning, it shouldn’t be so hard to think of something. But something made it hard for her to decide. Something in her wanted to tell him.

“We were just joking around,” she finally said, looking down at her shoes in embarrassment, eyes lingering on their hands.

“Why not make this joke reality,” Luke says. He always sounded so sure when saying anything. Anya admired that about him.

She looks up at him, trying to find the mischief in his eyes that she was thinking would appear in a matter of seconds. But all she received was his thumb rubbing her hand. Their skin confirming the twisted lies between them. A lie that maybe wasn’t supposed to stay untrue.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x ares!reader #percy pjo #pjo imagine #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #percy jackson

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daydreamalley · 26 days

Text

A Ramble about Phase 19 of the Fifteen Manga Ft. Storm Bringer spoilers

Just absolutely cannot get over the 15 manga. I love the light novel so much, but this manga adaptation is so ridiculously amazing. Dazai and Chuuya’s proximity/touching has been amazing of course. I adore the way Hoshikawa draws Dazai and Chuuya as well (my baby boys, especially Chuuya). But these last two chapters with Rimbaud and Verlaine. Like, fuck. The whole “At least, one of them felt that way,” part just hits so much harder in the manga for me, with the art and page placement. And this whole most recent chapter. Like firstly, you don’t have to end every chapter with like Chuuya getting stabbed okay, help me out here.

Comparing the last page of phase 18 with Verlaine and the first page of phase 19 with Chuuya makes it so obvious that Rimbaud is seeing the similarities between them with just that parallel, which is confirmed later with Rimbaud quite literally seeing Verlaine standing behind Chuuya.

Not to mention in phase 18 the “That’s right Paul, I remember you,” in conjunction with him seeing Verlaine in Chuuya.

Then that flashback with Verlaine carrying Chuuya and Chuuya’s just so small I could cry.

Like, I knew he was small, but he's just so young, I can't. People were experimenting on him. Like, how??

The way Rimbaud wants to ask Chuuya something and Chuuya crouches down to him. Which leads to Rimbaud putting a hand around Chuuya as he tells him to live. How close and personal they are when Rimbaud says all of this just make it feel so much more impactful for Chuuya. Kinda love too that Chuuya isn't just standing over Rimbaud. He's making it obvious he's open to listening.

Rimbaud says a lot of shitty things to Chuuya up to this point, even complaining that he has to kill a kid while only referring to Dazai, completely not acknowledging Chuuya as anything more than Arahabaki. But once he fully remembers what happened with Verlaine, I feel like that’s when Rimbaud remembers what he truly believed about Verlaine and his humanity and how that extends to Chuuya’s humanity. Because Rimbaud’s whole final speech is most definitely things he’d also thought of or told Verlaine before (as I think is confirmed in SB). I think those are Rimbaud’s true thoughts and beliefs on the matter, it just took that long for him to remember the full story and how he felt about it all. Rimbaud saw Verlaine’s struggles with humanity, and now he also remembers why Verlaine betrayed him. And so he tells Chuuya to live, just as Verlaine wanted him to back then, live without the burden of worrying about your humanity or where you came from, because “you are you.” It doesn’t matter if Chuuya (and Verlaine) “are but a pattern etched on the surface of raw power.” In Rimbaud’s mind, and honestly where we eventually end up at the end of SB, is that it really doesn’t matter what your origins are, whether someone is an artificial personality (aka pattern) etched onto raw power, because really everything is some version of a pattern upon the world. And in a word with abilities, a lot of people are a pattern connected to a power. Just as in SB Chuuya decides that even though Adam isn’t human and he knows it, it doesn’t take away from Adam’s actions, his sacrifices, or his dreams. Same goes for Chuuya and Verlaine. Their origins don't affect how human they truly are. Their humanity is significant no matter what. It just took a bit more convincing for Chuuya to get there, a little more than what Rimbaud could offer on his (almost) deathbed.

Anyway, Chuuya holding Rimbaud’s hand as he dies just does things to me. Like, the book described that “Both Chuuya and Dazai quietly listened as if there was something in what Randou (Rimbaud) was saying that they couldn’t allow themselves to miss… Some things, however, would not return to normal: the body of a man who no longer felt the cold, and the hearts of two boys who stood rooted to the spot, staring at him. A gust of wind peered through their souls as it passed them by.”

This page just so well depicts that last line. It truly feels these boys have heard something so monumental, that they won’t ever forget. Standing in the aftermath of their first fight together, hearing these words about humanity that both mean so much to both of them. Dazai’s expressions really convey this to me in the manga, and convey it just so beautifully. And Chuuya being so close to Rimbaud when he speak those words just makes it feel like those words truly are so monumental for him. And also this means that Chuuya fought to kill a man, that to be entirely fair and clear was trying to kill him first, and then held to his hand as he dies, and there’s just something about this added detail that’s so significant to me in portraying the weight of it on Chuuya. Chuuya's connection to Rimbaud is a complicated but important one. But really these words are important for both boys, because let’s not forget that Dazai also struggles with his humanity. Even if he doesn’t have a physical reason to doubt his humanity, like Chuuya, there are many other reasons that he does doubt it. So hearing that all people and all of humanity are really just patterns within the physical world, human or not that’s true of everyone and everything, and that’s important for Dazai to hear too. I think both boys think back to Rimbaud’s final speech quite a bit, if I’m being honest or did for a while.

I am NOT getting over the detail that someone (Chuuya??) put Rimbaud’s scarf on his grave. I just… it does something to me and I love that detail so much. And cutting back to that “You are you” line while Chuuya’s talking to the grave is just so perfect in my opinion, and again just shows the significance of it so, so well. It’s like, he's talking to Rimbaud, complaining about his actions really, and then it cuts to that “you are you” and it just shows almost the contrast I guess between Chuuya feeling unrest at not finding stuff about his past that Rimbaud could’ve given him, but maybe wouldn’t have anyway, and Rimbaud’s statement that those things don’t matter because Chuuya is who he is beyond all that. Also the little dandelion blowing into the wind, to me also signifying a wish being spread.

Anyway, entirely unnecessary to end the chapter with a big knife in Chuuya’s back, thanks. Especially after Chuuya mentions how he’s still exhausted from everything. Like let’s just, stop, please.

He's just a boy, leave him alone for the sake of all things good.

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carawenfiction · 1 year

Note

Will we have an update soon?

Tumblr won't let me make normal posts for some reason, so the update will have to be in form of an answer to this ask smh. Anyway:

Hey everyone!

This post is long overdue, I know. I’m really sorry to those who have been worried about my wellbeing, as well as those who have been waiting around for an update for so long.

I’ve put off writing here because this “update” is something I’ve been wrestling with for a long time. But I can’t keep going back and forth on it forever, which is why I’m now letting you all know that the Shadow Society is officially discontinued.

I know that this might not come as much of a surprise to anyone at this point. I’ve tried to salvage the story by remaking it into something I’m happy with through a rewrite. But I’ve rewritten the rewrite itself more than once, and no matter what I do, I’m just not happy with the result. Rewriting something that’s already published with all the coding it involves is a lot more tricky than I initially thought it would be.

This is not a case of me being needlessly harsh on myself, however; it’s simply a truth I’ve come to realize after struggling to find a way to keep going with the story. I’ll never be fully content with it, or even content enough, unless I’d be able to completely remake and rewrite everything from scratch – and consequentially, I will never find enough motivation to continue because of how unhappy I am with it.

I’ve seen some speculation about my reason for rewriting the story and my long absence, and that they’ve had to do with comparisons to other IFs (well, you know which one). This isn’t entirely the case. While the comparisons did happen and probably still do, and while they were discouraging in the beginning, I can definitely understand where people have been coming from when making them. I talked about this more in-depth in the forums right after the release of TSS.

The main reason for why I can’t continue is that it’s not a series I feel passionate enough about to work on. My tastes have changed, and so has my writing to some degree. I’ve tried to convince myself that I am passionate about it. It’s hard to admit that you’re not when it’s been in your head for so long, when you’ve tried for so long to make this work and when you know that one part is published and that some people are anticipating a continuation. But it had to be done sooner or later.

Other reasons:

-While I don’t think that my writing style has changed drastically, I feel like it is somewhat different from how I wrote back in 2018 (which is a GOOD thing). Whenever I tried working on the rewrite or second book and attempted to emulate the writing of TSS, it just didn’t sound right anymore, and that took a lot of fun out of it.

-With everything that has happened with CoG over the past few years, they are no longer a company I want to write for.

Please know that none of this has discouraged me from writing in general. I still love doing it. If anything, this has taught me a lot about what I actually want to write and the writing process in general. Whether I end up publishing anything else in the future or will simply do so for my own enjoyment we’ll just have to see, though.

I still have the idea of a shadow-like world in my head, and maybe it’s one I will revisit at some point. Maybe there will be another version of TSS someday, albeit very different from the original one.

But for now, I can only thank you all for the overwhelming love and support over the years, and apologize for any disappointment this has caused. If people are interested, I’d be happy to share parts of the rewrite and unused ideas. The Tumblr page will still stay up at least for some time, but I will probably not be answering any asks from here on out.

EDIT: Forgot to add, but if anyone wants a genuinely amazing IF read you should check out my friend's wip here: https://uroboros-if.tumblr.com/ ❤️ Play the demo here: https://mistyriousness.itch.io/uroboros

#the shadow society #tss #carawenfiction #interactive fiction

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hyatoro · 8 months

Note

Could you please share some ideas or bits from Augustine’s story, both mid and post?

Yes, I would love to!

Reminder since it’s been a while. Augustine Carver is the Second ML Yandere. The reader has two entrances into the story cause I thought it’d be interesting that way. Mid story is that the reader merges with the villainess in the middle of the story, so they’re all grown going through their arcs and the heroine is doing her thing. Post story is where the reader merges after everything goes down in the original story and is left to fight against everything that had already occurred.

Ages during the story and after story:

Saintess 19 > 22

Crown Prince 20 > 23

Augustine 21 > 24

Villainess 20 > 23

Mid Story:

The first time the Prince snubs the Villainess Augustine is wide-eyed. He doesn’t say anything, but he gathers his bearings soon enough. In the back of his mind he doesn’t know why that happened, but has some faith in his friend that he may have had a reason for it. Maybe. So he swoops in and escorts the Villainess in his stead, and as a close friend. Neither of them say anything about it, but note how bizarre it was with a shared glance. Again, since the Villainess, and you as the reader, don’t really have any real romantic affections for the Crown Prince it just feels more like getting snubbed by a longtime friend rather than a lover, which is still rude.

The reason why August fell for the Saintess in the original story was because he saw the Villainess as an untouchable figure since she was to be the queen. Ironic since he fell for the Saintess that the Crown Prince eventually lays claim to anyway. It’s not like she was the only other woman that was around him. He had plenty of women that wanted his hand in marriage, but he could easily ward them off by pointing at his responsibilities as the Prince’s right hand and escape from the more notably desperate ones. But all this is to say that his affections for the Villainess has always been dormant through sheer will and etiquette. When those barriers are no longer there, or at the very least not relevant to you, then he finds himself stumbling. You’re still engaged to the Crown Prince, but when it doesn’t seem to mean much to you anymore he finds it harder to care too. He naturally gravitates to your side, always there when you need him. And when he’s not he does his best to cover his bases, like sending some of his men, or making a comment to a maid that you seem down and need some sweets on his way to work.

If the Prince has any issue with this he gets slapped with the hypocrisy card. HARD. And if he tries to whip out the “I’m doing my duty to accompany the Saintess” card he gets hit with the “I’m literally chilling with my childhood friend because her fiance is too busy dancing with other women” card. The Prince’s reasons for gravitating towards the Saintess were immature in the first place. All because he wanted that worship and praise from his partner, which isn’t necessarily wrong, but he did not consider his position and status whatsoever.

The Saintess does actively try to seduce Augustine. She sees his struggles and swoops in to hit him with the sympathy and big ole eyes. She does a great job of making men feel like they’re useful and reliable, which is how she managed to get this far in the first place. Since things are going so well with the Crown Prince she never puts too much into August, but definitely sees him as a back up plan. Honestly if this were from another perspective she could easily be painted as a manipulative girlboss if her plans weren’t so stupid. Since this is Mid Story that means Villainess is much closer to Augustine though, acting as the pillar he already needs with actual support and not just false platitudes.

Post Story:

The first time you meet Augustine after he comes back from the war, you almost don’t recognize him. Not because he looks drastically different, although he’s definitely put on a lot more bulk, but because the air around him is. He recognized the Villainess right away, since aside from being a bit older, she also hasn’t changed much physically.

After being away for years, he’s already come to the realization that he was in the wrong. That the Crown Prince and the Saintess were in the wrong. That brushing the Villainess aside just because she lashed out from frustration was a mistake. So while he is shocked to see you there, he is also filled with immense guilt at the sight of you. And when you cup his face, brushing your smooth hands against his scars, he holds his breath. Then you say the words he’d been waiting to hear from his supposed friends back in the capital, and his face scrunches up in an effort to contain his overflowing emotions. Like I said in the intro post, the guilt, regret, and familiarity you offer is tearing him apart.

Were he the man he was before the war, he would’ve shattered into pieces, collapsing into your arms. But he wasn’t. And he didn’t have the right. Not after the way he stood aside and let them cast you away.

Although you very much aren’t engaged to the Crown Prince anymore he still maintains an emotional distance with you at the start. Because it’s familiar. Comfortable. He also doesn’t feel it’s right to reach out to you anymore, but can’t bring himself to reject your casual and soft touches, however often they come. In the nights, not occupied by hatred, guilt, and revenge, his mind always finds its way back to you. Catches himself flexing his hands as they remember what it was like to help you off a carriage, or the way you easily pull him to the side and lead him where he needs to be. Hides his face against the back of his hand with a groan as he tries to clear those thoughts away, only for them to come back with a vengeance.

So many thoughts of what ifs. What if he had supported you back then? What if he reached his hand out to you? What if he didn’t let the rules govern him and actually did what he wanted? Then they wander to ‘why’. Why did you forgive him so easily? Why was he so easy to read for you? Why did his entire body light up when you entered the room? Why did his heart warm and his brow soften when you spared him a glance and the occasional smile? Why could he not find it in himself to deny this? When he had no fucking right to your happiness?

He spends many nights plagued by thoughts of you, but he always manages to gather himself for the next day, supposedly content to remain by your side however you want him. Then one day he sees the way some dude behaves too familiarly with you and he feels a hand crushing his chest. He stands, proper as ever, but his eyes track every overly intimate gesture this man makes to you, and wilts ever so slightly when he sees you return it.

Augustine watches this man like a hawk, waiting for a moment of weakness to find some reason to get rid of him. It’s not something he consciously decides. It’s something that he does so naturally that he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Whether it be a reason to send him away to a far region for work, or a reason to toss his glove down for a duel. He just wants the man gone.

#Sub!yandere #dom!reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #dom reader #sub yandere #yandere oc #x reader #SecondMaleLead!Yandere #Augustine Carver #request

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nine-lives715 · 1 month

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Above the Clouds - Izuku Midoriya x GN reader

Author’s Note: So this is my first time actually writing a story and sharing it, so.. enjoy? Also, I originally thought of this in a femme perspective, because it was originally more for *me*, but it was so cute, I decided to share it. If people end up liking it, I would love to share the next part! But for now, I hope you enjoy the story! Feedback is welcomed :)

TW: Ex Husband (Reader is a widow/widower), Mentions of d3ath and grieving, Izuku is a sweetheart. :)

Following the loss of your husband, your friends had planted the idea of you dating again for quite some time now. As much as you love them, you can’t bring yourself to forget him. He was someone you trusted. You saw the rest of your future with him, and it was hard to forget all the memories you made with him.

Eventually though, a will must have its way. So here you are, a year later, nervously sitting at a dinner table as you wait for your date.

“Hey! Sorry I’m late,” He says. Walking up to you is the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. He seems gentle, and kind. He was tall, with dark green, curly hair topping his head. He wore a dark black jacket, a white t-shirt, and black jeans. He seemed decently put together. “I-It’s alright.” You responded. Why are you so nervous all of a sudden…? You can’t like him… what about your husband?

“It’s nice to meet you! I’m Izuku.” He outstretches his hand for you to shake. He seems slightly nervous as well.

“I’m _____.” You say, taking his hand to shake it. There’s that guilt… deep in your soul. The guilt of replacing your late husband stirs in you. You do your best not to think about it- if you did, you’d likely start crying. And you really didn’t want to scare this guy off on the first date…

He sits down in front of you and settles in. You two engage in light conversation over decent plates of food. He seems like a nice guy. He was nerdy, while also super polite and sweet. The two of you had a lot in common, and there’s definitely chemistry. But, it isn’t until your date is just about over where you’re reminded of him. Izuku starts to pay for the dinner (he insisted, of course). You check your phone for the time as Izuku had asked, and… you know those memory reels that come up on your phone in your photo gallery? That’s what it was.

You stare at your phone in silence. And before you know it, you’re setting your phone down with tears welling up in yours eyes. You almost made it..

Izuku is worried, to say the least. He’s hesitant to speak, wondering if he’ll just make things worse— but he speaks anyway.

“Hey… are you alright?” He asks, gently. You felt as though the words were dying in your throat is you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

“I-I apologize. It’s just…”

Izuku watches you, patiently. “Hey… it’s okay. Take it slow. There’s no rush.”

What? Is he serious? Most guys would have been weirded out by now…right? I guess now I might as well tell him.

“My friends put me up to this. I really.. I don’t know if I’m ready? You see, my husband died about two years ago and…” You trail off, unable to finish your sentence as you try to swallow your tears.

The concern on Izuku’s face is evident, but he showed nothing but warmth as he gently took your hand. “Hey. I understand. Look, I know a better place we can talk about this if you’d like? I would love to help.”

You look up as him in a daze. “Really?”

“Of course.” He smiles, before leaving the check for your dinner down on the table. “Thank you!” He waves to the staff before leaving, gently grabbing your hand and leading you out of the restaurant. He takes you to the back of a park, where a bench sits between two trees. There’s a clear view of the sky, and you can’t help but wonder if he sees what you’re doing.

“…Why here?” You ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

“It’s a nice place to think. I come here myself sometimes. I figured it would make a comfortable atmosphere.” He smiles, before turning to look at you, and— you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone look at you with kinder eyes than his. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I understand where you’re coming from. I wasn’t entirely ready, myself.”

You stay silent for a moment, half wondering if he’ll continue. He does. “I.. I went through a bad breakup not too long ago. I thought… I kind of thought I would end up with her. I haven’t been entirely motivated to start dating again. But I’m glad I wasn’t alone.”

“I’m sorry,” You say. Breakups are hard.

“It’s not your fault. It’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through. It must be really difficult.”

You’re unsure of how to respond. It was difficult. You choose your words for a moment, deciding to just be honest.

“It doesn’t feel right to move on… it feels like I’m replacing him.” Tears run down the apples of your cheeks. None of this felt right, but still…

“I understand, but you shouldn’t feel that way.” Izuku looks at you, and smiles gently. “He must have loved you a lot. And if that’s the case, then… He would have wanted you to move on. No one wants to end up alone… there’s no harm in finding someone new to spend your time with.”

You watch his eyes. You’re utterly speechless. What do you say? Is it really okay?

Izuku continues, “Nobody will ever replace the memories you made with him. Thats special to you. Finding someone else is you making new memories. There’s no replacing anyone, there.”

You continue to cry, unsure of how to respond. This was really the reassurance you needed- and you were getting it from a stranger!

He gently takes your hand in his own. “If you’re not ready to see anyone yet, I completely understand. But I want to help, so if it’s alright with you, I’d like to stick around. I will wait. And if you’re never ready, I’ll just continue to be your shoulder to cry on, okay?”

You’re in shock. “You mean it..?” Something in your gut told you to stay with him. Deep in your soul, you wanted some kind of bond with him— but you weren’t quite sure what, yet.

“Yeah, I mean it,” He smiles, squeezing your hand. “Anytime.”

You can’t think before you move to wrap your arms around him. You didn’t want to let go.

“Thank you, Izuku.”

“Of course.”

And that’s where it all started.

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to see or be tagged in the next part let me know!!

Have a great day :) ☆

#izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader #mha #mha x reader #deku fluff #deku x y/n #izuku x y/n #izuku x you #deku x you #I LOVE IZUKU SO MUCH AHHHHHH #i hope people like this- this is my first time writing for other people 😭😭😭#I WILL ALSO TAKE REQUESTS #I would love to start writing more— I have so many prompts…

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fwoopersongs · 2 months

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[Book Rec + Reaction/Thoughts] The Lantern and the Night Moths 灯与夜蛾 by Yilin Wang

An anthology of translated poems by five modern or contemporary poets and accompanying essays by the translator, @yilinwriter.

You can find the pronunciation guide and list of corrections here!

The cover art, a beautiful expression of the tone of this collection, is by Taiwanese artist Ciaoyin (check out her gorgeous insta!). I'm looking forward to the arrival of the physical book as my tab absolutely does not do it justice xD

Anyway! The official release date is 02 April 2024 though there have been some very thoughtful reviews by early readers already. Here, here, here and here.

(It was an ARC that I received too… though in the time it took to put this together, the ebooks have already gone out to readers >.< typical snail yj!)

Instead, I’ll tell you who I think would be interested in this book or might benefit from reading it, then share things that are cool about it from the perspective of a bilingual hobbyist translator + lover of ancient poetry and lyrics.

Who should read it?

If annotations, translator’s notes and reflections spark joy for you...

If you’ve ever read poetry translations and been intensely curious about what goes on under the hood...

If you’re a translator yourself wanting to hear another voice...

Definitely check this out!

Also if you’re CN+EN bilingual and have ever read something in English that references Chinese terms and concepts etc. except ONLY in English, pinyin or wade-giles and been utterly frustrated by the ensuing guessing game (like me) Fear Not.

That will not be a problem here.

I really appreciate how Chinese words are used naturally where needed for concepts and quotes - they are also translated for those who can't read Chinese so no one is left out. It made this book of and about translation (and more) super comfortable to read! The solution is so simple, so direct, so rarely used that I am amused.

Oh, but do note that the Chinese characters are in simplified though!

The poems are organised by their writers who are listed here by order of birth year, not appearance in the book:

秋瑾 (Qiu Jin, 1875 to 1907)

废名 (Fei Ming. 1901 to 1967)

戴望舒 (Dai Wangshu, 1905 to 1950)

小西 (Xiao Xi, 1974 to _)

张巧慧 (Zhang Qiaohui, 1978 to _)

Altogether, that covers nearly the last 150 years up to now. I’ve never really been into poetry by poets in such relatively recent times, in part because I’d been holding on to this stereotype of them spurning Classical Chinese and ancient poetry in the first half of the 20th century (not entirely true, as I came to realise xD). It made sense and was understandable, but felt sad.

Yet am I the target audience for this book?

Very much so.

In ways I didn’t think I would be too! It was so much fun to experience this both as a reader and a translator that I thought I’d share it here, where we are appreciating Chinese poetry together.

If you didn’t think you’d enjoy modern Chinese poetry, hey, give it a chance!

Oh yeah - on the way home a while back, I was talking to a friend about translation and was surprised to hear that her impression was that it ought to be a straightforward process. Like isn’t it a 1:1 conversion? At some point, ‘what’s the difference between something google translate might return, and how you would say it?’ was asked, and oh that was a delightful question to my ears! I showed her one of my comparison sheets where an original text is laid out alongside multiple translations line-by-line, briefly explaining some common and unique choices and how the people who had translated those probably arrived at the various interpretations. She was pretty amazed to see that the answer to her question was: very different. Hey, it’s a complicated process!

But there’s only so much one can explain in the space of a train ride. That’s why The Lantern and the Night Moths is a book I would also rec to someone like this friend of mine - open minded and curious but never having the chance to think about or encounter the craft of translation.

Like Yilin says, ‘the meaning of a word cannot be fully expressed in one single translation, nor through a series of translation attempts’. She then explains why with great attention to detail and some solid examples from one of the poems with word choices loaded with subtle connotations :D

What's interesting about it?

Okay, for one, Yilin shared a playlist of music that she listened to while working on this book. Here is the link to the spotify one and the one on youtube. Check them out! They sure put me in the mood to read xD (favs: 别知己, 小神仙 & 去有風的地方) Afterwards, this made so much sense like - ah! an audio moodboard.

She's also putting together these adorable mini profiles of each poet along with a cmedia and tea rec to match their vibes. Go see them on her instagram xD

Now to business...

structure

What really helped keep the reader’s focus was the way each section is organized, how the poems and accompanying essay were presented and finally the short bio of each person right at the end.

The poets are first introduced through five or six of their poems, works well suited to this purpose. Their voices, distinct through the vision, ambition and emotion of their words, are brought across by Yilin’s sensitive, thoughtful and poetic translations into English. These translations were also creative and transformative in a way that made so much sense after reading one of her reflections on the process, how she ‘must guide it with gentle hands to ensure its spirit is kept alive and intact during this transformative, and often excruciating process’. A rebirth into another language!

Personally, I’ve come to think of reading translations as looking at a work through another’s eyes. So it’s delightful when the translator’s presence is discernible, and even more so when the reader is given insight into their intention and process via commentary.

Yilin’s essays coupled with the poets’ bios at the end provide a means to go back and appreciate their works in context of their circumstance and inspirations. Similarly, to read the translations with a changed perspective.

I don’t know how much of a thing this is with translated poetry anthologies in English - can count the number I’ve read with both hands lol, and they’re all of the ancient chinese poetry variety - but I really like this design.

drawing on poets who came before them

Remember how we’re always recognizing traces of inspiration from ancient works (to them) in poetry of the various dynasties? 李商隐 Li Shangyin of Tang for example, was influenced by 楚辞 Verses of Chu and folklore and mythology such as that in 山海经 Classic of Mountains and Seas, 李白 Li Bai frequently references poets and history of the 魏晋 Wei-Jin era, and 王维 Wang Wei was clearly familiar with Buddhist scriptures which were translations themselves!

Just like the late Táng poets whom he praised for boldly deviating from the voices before them, Fei Ming used popular references and tropey shorthands ‘in contexts utterly different from the original, reimagining them anew’. Dai Wangshu, too, ‘boldly re-envisioned what modern poetry could look like by revisiting the classics’. In fact, in his very relatable ‘To Answer the Visitor with Classical Imagery’, I see Li Bai’s 春夜宴桃李园序, Qu Yuan’s 离骚 and lots of - as the title says - classical imagery, as if pulling out painting after painting to describe a feeling.

And Dai Wangshu’s faith in the translatability of poetry, that ‘poetry isn’t what is lost in translation, but rather, what survives it’ reminds me of what a friend, @xiakeponz, said that I agree with so much - because readers can ‘experience something in their own individual way through (your) shared humanity rather than language alone’.

poetic tradition and beyond

Between the lines of contemporary poets Zhang Qiaohui and Xiao Xi, I can really see the charm of plain vernacular, how it can be beautiful, incisive and clever in turns. Even as it seems to have moved further than ever from the structure and language of literary Chinese, the themes that inspired common motifs remain a part of life. Mother and divinity, homesickness, finding oneself, tributes to admirable spirits and the issues that trouble society - just in a new form and with different ways of expression.

Qiu Jin

So many FEELINGS about what Qiu Jin was doing - ‘I awaken the spirits of women, hundreds of flowers, abloom’. I would love if she could see the world now. So many things for her to rouse and fight against, but at the same time just as many to be proud of. I am so in awe of her, but now hearing her loneliness and struggle there is a soft spot in my heart for those too.

conclusion

So so so…

Qiu Jin’s admirable fire and lonely resolve. Zhang Qiaohui’s precious ability to express beauty in the mundane and in pain. Fei Ming’s utter delight! He is having so much fun and when* I’m vibing, I feel it too. Xiao Xi’s critical eye and keen observation of the world. Dai Wangshu’s whimsical charm and passion for translation. Finally, Yilin Wang, the connecting thread wound through them all, bringing them together so that we may be acquainted.

*Reading his poetry is like unwrapping a seamless, many layered present. A gift that keeps giving - if only you have a key 😅 Fortunately, Yilin has halved our struggle 🤣

I’ve had such a great time with them all. And if you come, I hope you will too!

#The Lantern and the Night Moths #chinese poetry #Yilin Wang #poetry in translation #灯与夜蛾 #Qiu Jin #Zhang Qiaohui #Fei Ming #Xiao Xi #Dai Wangshu #rambly reviews #i read from Fei Ming onwards on my kobo LOL but that one has no colour so...#i might do more of these review-y rambles about poetry things if y'all are interested?#i've been reading LOL #some are chinese some are english #all of them fun and enlightening

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illvmiimoved · 8 months

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Does Your Mother Know?

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

TAGS/INCLUDED: reader is DRUUUNK * Miguel doesn’t take advantage hes a gentleman ofc * obviously alcohol * if he’s Spider-Man is ambiguous again

A/N: Two posts in like a 3 hour span is BONKERS anyways here’s a shorter one based on the song “Does your mother know” by ABBA.

New account cause I messed my shit up 😔

You were at a bar downtown, having a great time with your friends. It was one of your close friend’s birthday, so you and a bunch of girls were there, getting hammered and essentially making it hell for the designated drivers.

You weren’t super drunk at the moment, you’d only had a single drink. You walk to the bar to get another round for the table (against one of the drivers saying that really isn’t the best idea) and that’s when you saw him.

Oh. My. God.

He was so hot, are you kidding me?

He was easily 6 feet tall. Tan skin and pretty eyes, his hair was curly and he was dressed in business attire. His sleeves were rolled to his forearm, which was enough to make you swoon on the spot.

You purposefully stand next to him when you order the drinks, taking extra care to bump your sides together occasionally.

At the sixth bump of your side, he turns around to look down at you. He smirks as he leans on the bar, “Can I help you, little lady?”

You giggle drunkenly (maybe you were more dunk than you’d thought), “You’re just quite the looker. Can’t help myself!”

You sway in your spot a little as you look up at him. He chuckles to himself and sits on one of the stools to match your level better. He tucks a lock of your pretty hair behind your ear and smiles.

“You look pretty young to be in a place like this, girly. Your mother know you’re out?”

You giggle again and cover your mouth, “I’m not young, no worries,” You follow that up by wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

Yeah, you definitely were not sober right now.

He leans on his hand, “You sure about that?”

“Sure about my age? I think so!” You count on your fingers to double check.

He smirks at you, “What’s your name, beautiful?”

You blush and tell him your name. To which he replies, “What a lovely name. I’m Miguel, sweet thing.”

The bartender puts your ordered drinks on the bar, so you perk up and attempt to grab them all. Miguel stops you and grabs them himself, so you lead him to the table. He places them down for you, your friends diving in without missing a beat.

You smile up at him, “Let’s dance, handsome!”

“Oh? You wanna dance now? But what about your friends?” He smirks, though he didn’t protest when you started to push him towards the dance floor.

You jump and dance to the music with zero rhythm, really just having fun rather than trying to impress Miguel with your ‘hot moves’. He didn’t seem to mind, he looked quite taken with how free your looked at that moment.

He just swayed in his spot slightly, he really wasn’t much of a dancer. You grab the sides of him and try to force him to dance. Of course you can’t, have you seen the man? He’s huge. He chuckles anyways, “What’s the matter, huh?”

“You gotta dance! You’re just standing there like a damn tree!”

He chuckles again, swaying a bit more to the music. He spots one of his friends (who he originally was here with) snickering at him, so he sends him the finger before turning his attention back to you.

“So what’s a pretty girl like you doing dancing with a man like me? You surely have a boyfriend to dance with you instead?”

You shake your head as you jump to the music, “Nope! I’m allllll ready for the taking, mister!”

He smiles at you, “Well ain’t that interesting? Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?”

You nod and loop your arm with his, leaning on him as he takes you to the bar. He has you sit on a stool and orders you a water and himself an alcoholic beverage. Though you begin to whine at that and say things like “I am a big girl! I can have a freakin’ beer if I want!”

You drink the water when it arrives anyways, slurping it down like you haven’t drank in days. He smiles gently at you, he really hasn’t seen a person as beautiful as you in a long time. Sure you looked pretty messed up right now, your makeup was smeared and your hair was crazy at this point. But he didn’t mind, not at all. He hadn’t had a good time at a bar in a long time. Mostly it was just sitting around with Peter or Jessica. He hasn’t gotten up to dance in a long time.

Peter always asked to dance, though Miguel has turned him down every single time and never plans to give in on that demand.

As you finish your water, you smile drunkenly up at him. You poke his chest with one finger,

“Are you married? You gotta be married. Look at you!”

He tilts his head with a smirk, “No. I’m single, actually.”

You gasp loudly. You were very obnoxious in your drunken state, clearly, “No freakin’ way. You can’t be telling the truth!”

He raises a hand to fix your hair so it isn’t in your face as he speaks, “Nope. I’m being honest, sweet thing.”

“Oh, you gotta date me then,” You say with a confident nod as he fixes your hair.

He snickers, “You seem really drunk, girlie. You sure you’re of age?”

You nod, “Yup! You wanna see my ID, officer?”

He leans back in his own stool, “I believe you, I believe you. What brings you to the bar tonight anyways, huh?”

You point to the table where half your friends are passed out in their seats, “My friend’s birthday!”

He nods, “So why’re you here with me?”

“Cause look at you!”

He chuckles and looks over at the group. He sees some sober-looking people stand and haul the passed out people to the cars outside. He looks back to you, “Looks like it’s home time.”

“Nooo! I don’ wanna go!” You pout like a child.

Miguel doesn’t listen and helps you off the stool, leading you over to the group. He nods to some of your friends and helps you to one of their cars. Before he helps you get in, you press a kiss to his cheek.

He smiles and buckles you in. He places something in your hand, then closes the car door.

As the car drives away, he reaches up and feels the lipstick mark on his cheek.

When you woke up the next morning, you found a note on your nightstand. You called your friend and asked about it and all she said was that “A real handsome man put it in your hand after he helped you to the car, so I put it on your nightstand so you wouldn’t lose it”.

Once you ended the call, you plucked the paper off the stand and read what it said.

On top was a phone number. Under it;

“Here’s my number, young thing. Hope your mother really did know you were out.

-Miguel”

Here’s another one, two in one day is super bonkers for me LOL. Hope you enjoyed. Also wanted to say I’m open to requests! Love you all ❤️❤️

don’t redistribute or steal or reupload pretty pretty please

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #atsv miguel #atsv #atsv x reader #Miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x you

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valenteal · 5 months

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I’ve been posting a lot about my thoughts on Dazai’s characterization and motivations but honestly I’ve been dedicating a lot more energy to trying to understand Oda. Dazai is an amazingly complex character but he’s a constant in the story and we know quite a lot about him, comparatively. Oda is incredibly mysterious and much harder to understand. My breakthrough earlier figuring out that Oda had the book has really helped me open my mind to another side of Oda I hadn’t yet considered.

The things is, authors have to be a bit cruel. Oda’s reasoning for not killing because he wanted to be a writer doesn’t make sense, we kill our own characters all the time. We put them through hell over and over for entertainment/to convey a deeper meaning. I think maybe one of the conditions of having the book is not killing directly, or maybe a certain level of removal from the storyline. Like, if you control reality and others lives with the book you’re giving up a certain amount of control physically in the moment.

Oda is a killer. He is friends with killers. And if I’m right about him being the author of the Dark Era he wrote the deaths of the kids. I think his reaction was genuine, I think he really felt like he shouldn’t have the book, that he didn’t deserve to be its author anymore, but I really think that he wrote the story to give Dazai the opportunity and the motivation to get a better life. I mean, I’ve made myself cry with my writing. The most compelling stories are full of tragedy.

Oda was a child assassin. He was a writer. He was a mafioso. But most of all he was Dazai’s friend.

Wait! Holy shit idea!

Okay so Natsume had the book before Oda, but he was definitely following Dazai around before he got the book so we know there’s already a connection there. I’ve been wondering why Oda was so attached to Dazai. But Natsume wrote the story he adored, the third installment which Oda finished was The Book. But what did Natsume write about? What exactly were the books Oda loved? What if it was Dazai’s story? What if Oda knows Dazai so well because he read his life story over and over and yearned to give him a happy ending? What if his whole motivation was to finish the story in a satisfying way? And everything from the orphan’s existence to Ango’s betrayal was to create an open ended story in which Dazai could potentially have have a better life?

Oda is such an incredible character. He’s full of contradictions until you actually start thinking of him as an author. We authors have strange minds, we love our characters but we put them through so much. Because we wouldn’t love them if we didn’t make them struggle, make them realistic and deep and meaningful. Oda knew the kids were going to die, he wrote it. But he got attached like anyone would. But he was done writing the story, all that was left was for it to play out. So he passed ownership of the book to Dazai and went to play his role.

Fuck I’m getting emotional omg Odasaku is wonderful. I don’t even care if the entire theory is wrong, I’ve figured Oda out with the information I was given and filled in the blanks. Asagiri himself wouldn’t be able to make me give this theory up.

Oda isn’t a good person with strong morals the way he presents himself. He does that to fill the mentor roll for Dazai and to get Dazai to make the desired decisions. He just a fan who was given control of the story by the original author and basically used all the writing tools ever to create a story in which the character he loved but who was tragically doomed and seeped in darkness could find some happiness. Just like anyone writing a fix-it fic. Accept his fix is canon.

Holy shit I’m a genius.

Don’t come at me you have no idea how proud I am of this! Either I figured out the most confusing character ever written or I have created a genius explanation that nothing will ever top (for me anyway).

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jawllines · 2 years

Note

i need mechanicrryyyy

HERE YOU GO :D THIS WAS THE HALLOWEEN MECHANICRRY BLURB FROM PATREON!!

“I don’t understand why I can’t just go as a mechanic.”

“Because you are already a mechanic! That’s not very Halloween-y at all; plus, how would we do a couple’s costume if you were a mechanic, huh? What would I be then?”

“A car?”

It had been about four hours of discussion and pacing back and forth through the aisles of the pop-up Halloween store for both Y/N and Harry, but Y/N’s dreams of finding them a costume were seeming absolutely hopeless at this point. They’d had all month to prepare but Y/N had been so stressed about it, she’d procrastinated to the last second (which Harry had kindly reminded her about a week ago) and now she was 10x the amount of stress. It wasn’t like Harry had helped any though! He barely wanted to go to the damn party Adam was throwing so if Y/N wasn’t bringing up costumes and getting ready, then Harry sure wasn’t either.

She’s surprised she could even get him to the Halloween store, honestly. It isn’t that Harry dislikes Halloween – he actually likes it very much – but he prefers the type of Halloween that involves staying inside, hiding from Trick-or-Treaters, watching horror movies, eating sweets, and cuddling on the couch. At least Harry had explained that this was his original plan for them before Adam sent out party invitations and Y/N said they should go.

“I still don’t get why we need to go. I see him at work every day.”

Y/N pouted her mouth, “Because he’s our friend and he seemed so excited,” she told him, “We won’t stay all night either, we’ll do a cute little 2-hour pop-in, turn around and come right back home and do all our cute stuff! I don’t feel like drinking tonight anyway.”

Harry still didn’t seem all too convinced and Y/N thought that maybe he would refuse one more time but he eventually sighed. Like always, he grabs ahold of her wrist (she’d been standing in front of him on the couch) and tugs her so that she tumbles over the top of him. It takes a few disjointed squawks and confused sounds before Y/N figures herself out, and finds herself with thighs astride his own. His arms are wrapped loosely around her hips and he’s got his face pouted at her, matching what she’d been doing to him before, “You’re too sweet for your own good,” he murmured, “We’ll go, but when we come back home, I get to pick what movie we watch first.”

“That sounds perfect,” Y/N smiled at him before leaning in and smearing their lips together for a second, “We still need to figure out what to wear though.”

“I’ll be a witch with you or summat,” he answered, “I’ll let you put them gems on my face and whatnot.”

They had been doing a lot of fun Halloween things throughout the month of October, most of which Harry had planned himself. He is more of a planner than Y/N had initially taken him to be – at first glance, he definitely seems more like a go-with-the-flow kind of guy, making plans the day of, and if they get to them they get to them but if they don’t then no sweat. It turned out that Y/N was more of that than he was because on the very first day of October Harry had presented her with a list of things he wanted to do.

Or, well, he sent her a screenshot of a list in his notes app that he had created titled: Halloween Things for me and Y/N which made her smile as she read it. There were cutesy things like pumpkin patches and carvings, making Halloween sweets, decorating both of their respective flats to fit the season, and getting Strudel in a Halloween costume for pictures (they bought her a little dress with bat wings that she looked too fucking cute in). Then there were more spooky things, like haunted houses and hayrides, watch horror movies, and a ghost tour that Niall goes to every year in an old castle. What had struck Y/N at the time, however, were a few things listed at the bottom but weren’t listed with words. Instead, there were asterisks and Y/N messaged him back (after hearting the screenshot) asking him what it meant.

I want to fuck you in a mask

And have you dress up for me, still deciding what

I made the list at work so I didn’t want Adam to read over my shoulder all the different ways I’m planning on fucking you

Each day that they could do something Halloween-themed, they did it, and each day it was full of a lot of laughing, and a lot of Y/N nervous chatting (because that’s just what she does around Harry, it turns out, that nervous little flutters in her belly don’t go away no matter how many times they kiss and cuddle). Harry did eventually decide that he wanted her in a bunny costume, one he had picked out and appeared at her flat with one day. With a pair of lacy white ears and a white fluffy plug for her bum. He had her go get ready — Y/N had grabbed her collar to clip around her throat because she thought maybe he’d like that and she’d been right.

Y/N had felt nervous and a little silly when she’d emerged from the bathroom but all her anxiety flew away once Harry took a look at her, “Jesus Christ,” he’d sighed, motioning for her to come over to him where he sat on the edge of the bed, looping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to the silky white fabric covering her belly, “You g’na be my little fuck bunny, hm?” He spoke against her stomach, nosing at her, his hands sliding up her back, “I’m going to ruin you.”

He hadn’t been lying – that night, by the end of it – Y/N was worn out, covered in spit and cum and absolutely breathless when he finally slid out of her spent hole, “Thank you, Bunny,” he nibbled at her mouth before he smeared a kiss against her lips, “Let’s clean you up.”

Y/N also experienced her first haunted house with Harry; she’d narrowly avoided attending any in the past but Harry seemed adamant about going and Y/N liked making him happy. She didn’t mind it too much – the build-up of tension prior to going inside was worse than the actual haunt itself, and she found herself laughing, clutching onto Harry, and hiding against him when someone jumped out at them. But it was fun – Harry was smiling wide and Y/N was happy that she’d agreed to go with him.

Their pumpkin carving day first started at the pumpkin patch, where Y/N taught Harry how to pick the perfect pumpkin for cutting into, that wasn’t too big but wasn’t too small. They got there pretty early on in the year so they had a decent batch to choose from and both left with mid-size pumpkins and a few jars of apple butter (Y/N mentioned she liked it on toast and Harry immediately sought out to buy it). That night they carved them at Y/N’s flat with Strudel, who got to try a little chunk of raw pumpkin to see how she liked it (she didn’t seem entirely sold on it because, after her taste, she didn’t bother them anymore). Y/N just tried a standard pumpkin face, with a big smile and heart eyes, while Harry worked very diligently and delicately on a cat face. They put them outside of the door (after Harry took a picture of them both and proudly posted them online) with little fake candles on the inside of them.

That was just a taste of all they did – really, they had done just a little bit of everything Halloween-like besides going to a party, so how Y/N saw it, they might as well.

“Witches?” Y/N confirmed and Harry nodded, “Aw, cute! And Strudel can be our little familiar.”

“She would be a good one,” Harry murmured thoughtfully.

. . .

Harry was a little whiny the day of the party but they got dressed up around 6 PM after eating dinner, and as promised, he let Y/N stick pretty gems underneath his eye and wore a matching, big, wide-brimmed pointy hat with her that was decorated in lace and faux black fur. When they went to the Halloween store Y/N found a pretty black and purple dress (Harry had to help her lace up the back) with long batwing sleeves that she wishes she could figure out how to incorporate into her day-to-day life. Harry has a long black and purple hooded cloak with similar sleeves, so even without the matching hats and matching gems, they would have looked similar enough that people could tell they were together.

“Without the hat though, I reckon you could pass for a vampire probably,” Y/N had told him, “Do you want to suck on my blood?”

“I’ll suck on something of yours, yeah.”

It is a fun little party; when they get there, the music is already thumping, and Y/N wonders if he’d warned his neighbors beforehand that things would probably be loud for a little while. Adam seems absolutely shocked when he opens up the door for them, “Holy shit,” he grinned wide, “How’d you convince this guy to get dressed up? Are you really a witch, Pet?”

“Nooo,” she replied, opening her arms to accept the hug Adam bends over to give her, “I just asked really sweetly.”

“Ah, well that’s the best way to get things done, isn’t it?” He turned to face Harry, smiling, “Looking good, Boss!”

“You’ve got us for 2 hours.” Harry replied plainly.

They mingle and chat; Y/N finds her way to Niall who is dressed like a scarecrow with a little brown patch painted on his cheek to make it look stitched there. “Would love to say I can’t believe you got Harry to come out but he’s so whipped for you it’s not much of a shocker.”

It was nice and while at times it felt a little too loud, it wasn’t so obnoxious that Y/N couldn’t stand it. When they had first walked in Harry had been whisked away by some people at work who were just ecstatic to see their boss out and about in a witch hat and gems on his face. Eventually he made his way back to her when she was getting a bottle of water from the refrigerator, “Are you having fun?” He inquired, reaching around her to grab himself a redbull.

Y/N nodded, “Yeah,” she told him, “Not as much fun as I’ll have tonight with you though.”

It isn’t often that Y/N gets to see Harry’s cheeks go rosy but when she does, she always wants to paint a mural of it.

Arguably, Y/N would say the best part about going out to a party is coming home. There was just something so gratifying about unlocking the front door, stepping into the welcoming warmth of her flat, and knowing that she could relax for the rest of the night. Take off her uncomfortable clothes, take a shower, wash her face and then either crawl onto her couch with a big fluffy blanket or into her bed, snuggled beneath the covers. Light a candle, snuggle with Strudel, and do whatever the hell she wanted until she finally fell asleep.

With Harry, she likes it just the same, because now the option of cuddling Strudel and Harry is an option now. They stayed for two hours and thirty minutes, and surprisingly enough it was Y/N who was pouting about wanting to go home and get comfortable first. They bid their goodbyes, Adam gave Harry a drunk kiss on the cheek, and sent them both on their way. Once they stripped out of their costumes and got into Halloween pajamas (they weren’t matching – instead, Y/N had vampire frog print and Harry had mummy cat print), Y/N queued up Scream (they had thought a slasher, ghost, slasher, ghost approach would keep the marathon viewing experience fresh) while Harry got their snacks ready (a big bowl of candy and about four different varieties of crisps).

“Hurry!” Y/N called out to him from the living room, “I’m getting impatient and antsy.”

“You’re always impatient and antsy,” He answered, appearing soon after with one hand on the bowl and the other gripping the different types of crisps, “I’m lucky if I can get you to wait five minutes for anything.”

Harry set it all down on the coffee table, stepping around it to plop down on the couch next to her. He takes it upon himself to scoot closer to her, fanning out the woven throw over their laps and then another one over their shoulders. Y/N had never been more thankful for her couch to have an additional ottoman piece that rolls out from underneath the sofa to make a fake little bed. She’s also thankful for the pillows Harry had preemptively set up there for when they came back, so they were cocooned in a little nest of soft, warm, comfort. A candle was lit, sat on her entertainment center and making the room smell like pumpkin bread.

Everything was so good – Y/N almost regrets going to the party first, because they could have just been doing this the whole time. Harry laces his limbs with hers, holding her close and humming low, “This is good,” it was almost like he’d read her mind, “I’ve been so excited for this part of the night.”

Y/N presses impossibly closer.

“Me too,” she agrees.

#BLURB #OR #BLURBS

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runningatypufullspeed · 2 months

Text

@vostokmcclellan you have no clue what you have just unleashed within me. You reap what you sow. You have asked, and you shall DEFINITELY receive

Intoduction to C,honny jash 🔥🔥🔥 (no way fire... like from *gets shot)

CLAPS HANDS TOGETHER OKAY. OKAY. so chonny jash is this really cool singer guy song cover man on YouTube he makes some really good goddamn music and if you like tally hall, will wood, lemon demon (all other alternative/indie music creators and bands) then you MIGHT like him.

I think his most popular work/the work that gets most people invested into his music in the first place would be his album CCCC (chonny’s charming chaos compendium) which is a cover album consisting of songs that were originally from tally hall before jash took the lyrics and the music and like. Molded it to fit his ocs. That’s the best way I can describe it.

The three main characters of this album would be Heart, Mind, and Soul, and people (including me) GO ABSOLUTELY NUTS OVER THEM jash’s writing and singing and like general music skills are so good if you want to get into this album I’d seriously consider checking out his mind electric video first (the twelve minute one, it has 3 songs in total and they all do a pretty good job of introducing all three characters respectively).

Not only is the music like REALLY FUCKING GOOD the entire. Differentiation between sepereate characters based off of jash's artistic skills thing + motifs/symbolism for each one is extremely well thought out and the relationships between the three of these guys are CRAZY and TOXIC and RIVETING and bottom line SUPER GODDAMN RELATABLE to the vast majority of those in his audience. I would definitely recommend it if you enjoy concept albums/piecing together a story based off of several songs for me it was certainly an arduous process but BOY was it rewarding.

The lore/message itself is mostly up to listener interpretation but I personally like to think of that album as being centered around how valuable self acceptance is, how important communication and understanding and empathy is in a relationship, learning to break free from the bars that society cages one within, and just general dealings/causations of psychological turmoil. I think that what I like the MOST about CCCC tho is how lax/free you can be with your interpretations. it allows a LOT of space for creative liberty and overall message variation, and I like that. I like that very much.

OH and if you enjoy witty lyricism/enjoy having a bunch of allusions that you can rabbit-hole yourself into then you’ll probably like chonny jash . His stuff is like a puzzle but in video/music form. Anyway chonny jash changed my life I think everybody should listen to and look at the lyrics of one of his songs at least once in their life this shit is so good

Tergun 🤤

AND . AND TRIGUN. TRIGUN ISN’T A VIDEO GAME it’S a space western anime. Well OKAY it was originally a manga from the 90s that got adapted into an anime in the late 90s and then ANOTHER newer anime in 2023 so it’s actually just a broad term for these 3 pieces of media .

This is very general btw and while all adaptations go about it in different ways all of them center around the same plot; humans completely NERFED earth so they sent out these ships in order to find another habitable planet, and this mission is called “project seeds”. Aboard these ships are a bunch of humans put into cold sleep but OBVIOUSLY they can’t survive without resources, so alongside the cold sleep people are these human-made organisms called “Plants” who produce the necessities + more that humans need to survive.

Still with me? Ok So everything’s all fine and dandy, but then suddenly due to an event that I cannot disclose because of spoiler related reasons these ships CRASH on a deserted sandy desolate planet, and the remaining humans are then forced to survive solely off of the remaining plants (since all the technology from the spacefaring age was lost in the crash).

Now that the worldbuilding stuff’s outta the way, the main character is this dude named Vash the Stampede who is constantly being chased and hunted down because of this CRAZY bounty he’s got on his head and this is where . The main themes of Trigun start to shine through. It’s about morality and the lives of other people, about the cycles of abuse that lead to why people do certain things and it dives quite deep into the psychological and philosophical aspects ESPECIALLY since this is like a “kill or be killed” world and the main character ALWAYS chooses NOT to kill, no matter what.

I started out with watching the newest adaptation (Trigun stampede) but there’s no right or wrong order to consume the three medias, so start with whichever one you’d like ,,,, assuming you do want to start watching it, anyway.

Judging from what little i know about ur interests, I think trigun would be more up your alley BUT ALSO chonny jash is so good ESPECIALLY CCCC AND ESPECIALLY IF YOU ENJOY A SMALLER AMOUNT OF CHARACTERS COUGH COUGH COUGH but it's ultimately up to you, this is all assuming you'd wanna delve into anything in the first place. anyway yeah rant over . 👍

#I know this is an f451 acc but bear with me here #the brainrot has hit #me spewing my twisted gospel #these are (somewhat) old-ish hpfxs btw so if I got some things wrong I apologize #cough #stinkygirldays pee you!!!!!!! 😡#unshowered #I love acting like I know what I’m talking about #yapathon #kinda copied my friend at the trigun part I was having somewhat of a hard time remembering I am a #fake fan

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envihellbender · 30 days

Note

Buried avatar Gerry

Rating: General Audience

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Gerard Keay, Michael Shelley

Content: buried alive, rodents, abuse reference

Summary: Buried!Gerard goes the Magnus Institute to give his statement, but he’ll only talk to Michael.

—

[WE ARE GREETED BY THE CLICK OF A TAPE RECORDER]

MICHAEL

Statement of Gerard Keay regarding his experience with Hezekiah Wakeley. Recording by researcher Michael Shelley. Statement Begins. [A PAUSE.] So, in your own time, Gerard. Whenever your ready.

GERARD

Oh erm. Okay. So. Yeah. This one isn’t really about mum like the others but I guess that’s the easiest way to explain it, you know? I’ve already told you about the tattoos and mum’s experiments, so next step is how I escaped it. It was her own fault really, she introduced me to my home. I just curled up in the Mother Earth’s arms and never let go. So she messed up, really. Anyway. I was supposed to be getting my buried tattoo, and just like the others it was supposed to be torture… but it didn’t work? Like, okay, so back then I didn’t have mud everywhere and didn’t have the rodent thing.

[THERE IS AN INDIGNANT SQUEAK FOLLOWED BY THE NOISE OF SHUFFLING.]

[GERARD WHISPERS INTO HIS COAT] Hey, y’alright, mate? [HIS VOICE IS LOUDER AS HE TURNS BACK TO MICHAEL.] Sorry, is it alright if Corpsegrinder has a wander around? He’s getting fussy.

MICHAEL

[A SMALL GASP OF SURPRISE, HIS VOICE IS NERVOUS.] Oh! I- yes, of course. By all means. Oh, he’s cute. My boss might not be quite so amenable if he gets out though.

GERARD

It’s alright, he won’t go far. Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. So, mum originally did the usual sort of thing. This time she drugged me whilst I slept and had me moved into a coffin. So I woke up, and… it was nice. It was comforting. I was surrounded by all sides and held tight. It was like I was a kid again, swaddled against mum’s chest in a way I can’t imagine mum ever actually doing. It was pure black, my eyes could rest for the first time. The only thing that would’ve improved it was music, otherwise it just seemed like… Comfortable. Pure. Not remotely terrifying. And maybe that was a sign that the thing already had started to grow inside me. Which is definitely possible because I used to climb into the empty graves at the cemetery down the road when I was a kid, I’d be like, 13, and sneak out after lights out and go to just lay in the soft warm earth. I had my cheap MP3 player playing some music and I was completely safe. I fell asleep there sometimes. I was at peace. It was like that but I wasn’t rudely awakened at six by the gravedigger.

But no, right, so I always liked coffins, being wrapped up in small spaces but I figured I was just a goth or something. I used to get my duvet, my teddies, and curl up under my bed with a book, like one of them Artemis Fowl or Animorphs or something like that. So when mum had me locked into a coffin I just curled up happily and fell back to sleep. Didn’t even realise I was locked in. Mum got mad. She had to go further. So next she started dropping dirt on the coffin to make me feel like I was being buried alive, nothing. The only thing that sort of started to work was when she pinned me to the floor, sat on my chest so I could barely breath. She brought Hezekiah round, that was her big mistake I guess? Because he didn’t really scare me. Didn’t want to either. The opposite really. He was- so he told mum he needed privacy to terrify me properly, instead he edged forward, brushed my hair out of my eyes and talked to me for a little while. He put one hand on my shoulder, he told me that he’d be waiting for me by Saint Columba’s Church if I wanted. When he left he told my mum he could help her. I think she thought that meant he’d do what all the others did. But she couldn’t have been more wrong.

So I snuck out that night to the Church, it was a Catholic one I’d not seen before. I saw Wakeley stood by the doors, he had two rodents on one shoulder curled up together looking at me with tiny beady little eyes. And honestly? That night showed me how fucking liberating fear was. Mum only ever turned me into a shaking crying mess but Hezekiah showed me true actual terror and it was … I don’t know. Pure. Without ill intent. He saw how happy I was curled up in the coffin, he whispered to me about how he’d never let Mum hurt me again. He even let me listen to my MP3 player and hold a teddy close to my chest. I was surrounded by darkness and music. I felt every pound of earth that was piled on top of me. I stayed there in absolute bliss for I don’t know how long, all I know is when Hezekiah dug me back up again the cold early signs of Spring had turned to warm sunlight and flowers blooming over the old cemetery. Hezekiah was so happy. Mate, you have no idea. That weird guy had a smile from ear to ear and he fucking hugged me. I knew then what the Earth wanted. I knew my Mum wasn’t really my Mum, you know? She was… Something else. Someone who was trying to drag me from my real purpose. You know?

I did end up going back home, Mum was furious but she saw something different in me then. Saw I was protected. So the experiments on me stopped. That was when she started forcing me to hurt others. Like. Her. But. A lot of the time I refused. Only took those to the earth that I knew deserved it. It’s a privilege not a punishment. Mum’s ideas weren’t pure, not at all. [THERE IS A SMALL CLATTERING] Hey, Corpsegrinder, what’ve you got- Oh. Erm, mate, he says you dropped this?

MICHAEL

[HE IS NERVOUS, DELIGHTED, AND SURPRISED.] Oh! Yes! Thank you! Thank you erm… Corpsegrinder? Erm. And you, Gerard. Erm, so I guess we’ll leave that one there? Statement ends.

[CLICK]

#envi writes #the Magnus archives #Gerard Keay #Michael Shelley #roleswap au #the buried #buried!Gerry #tma fanfic

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soulariarym · 1 year

Note

Gf x dom anon again, that’s kinda long I’m just gonna call myself Fero anon cause I’ll definitely request more in the future. Anyways Hey! It’s time to share my fantasies to the world lol

I was thinking of something like this: you come home after a long day of work to your wife dead on the kitchen floor. Danny is there of course—he was waiting for you to come home. Originally he closes in to kill you too thinking he had the upper hand, but the way he talks so desperately about wanting this turns you on. He sees your arousal, and puts his knife away temporarily so that you can plow him on that kitchen counter. Whether he kills the reader in the end can be up to you, Idm. Also please include breeding in this (No mpreg) that shit is godsent. Also also, Danny wearing lace panties would also be appreciated. I hope this was enough detail!

A/N: Hello again Fero! Sorry I’ve taken so long to write this you must’ve been impatient and I do apologize. I did get Covid and still have it but for some reason I have motivation to write. Hope the wait was worth it :) I won’t necessarily add “breeding kink”in this as it makes me uncomfortable but I hope cumin in Danny will work

Danny Johnson // Dom Male Reader

Keys jingling could be heard in your ears, unlocking the door to your apartment.

You honestly just wanted to go to bed and get some rest from your long hours of work.

You were about to just head to your bedroom and collapse on the bed, assuming your wife would be waiting for you. You sigh as you walk in the bedroom realizing she was nowhere to be seen.

“Honey?” You called out, no answer. “Honey I’m home” still no response. You instinctively got worried, she’s always home when you arrive. Late night walk? No no she wouldn’t go out this late.

You put a hand on your chin as your thoughts clouded your mind, maybe she’s just taking a bath or grabbing some late night snacks? You should check either way.

You walked to the bathroom as you opened the door, noticing the light was off. Turning it on you didn’t see your wife, you figured so as the light was off.

Turning the light back off you walked back to the hallway, heading for the kitchen.

“Honey? Are you ok?-“

Your breath hitched in your chest as a feeling of pure adrenaline and fear filled your body.

There she was, your wife bleeding out on the floor unconscious and probably dead.

You froze not knowing what to do, your mind going blank

“Hi hun glad you could make it back… safely~”

You heard a voice as you looked to your side you noticed a man in a mask with a robe-like outfit. His voice wasn’t his real voice and you could tell by the voice changer he had in his tone.

“W-what do you want from me?! Get away from me you bastard!”

Danny sighed as he walked closer “isn’t it obvious? I want to kill you, I’ve been watching you, following you, stalking you, I need you so bad~ you’re absolutely perfect~ please please let me kill you, your blood would look so pretty on my knife. I can’t take it anymore, I need you”

The way this man talked to you had pure hot lust flooding your mind. What was wrong with you? Why was this turning you on?

Those thoughts quickly faded away as you slightly bit your lip, uniting your tie as you looked at him.

Danny giggled a little noticing your actions, he placed his knife behind him on the counter as he walked up to you.

You immediately felt yourself getting hard and the man began unbuckling your belt, looking up at you.

“I think we can have some…other types of fun for now… what do you say? Handsome?”

All Danny heard was a low groan come from you before you spoke, your lust moving your mouth for you.

“Bend over the counter right now”

Ghostface immediately listened, bending over as he rested his head in his arms.

“How naughty, came here to kill me now you wanna be fucked? That’s very naughty Ghostface”

Danny chuckled as he pressed his ass against your buldge and he wiggled around on it a bit.

“Cmon don’t act like you don’t wanna fuck me, my ass is so prepared for you, please please fuck me”

You chuckled as you undid your belt, one hand pulling your pants and boxers to your ankles while the other on Danny’s hip.

Once you pulled up his outfit you noticed what he was wearing.

“Well look at you, it’s almost like you were waiting for me” you said in a stern voice.

“Maybe…I was..like I said tonight would be the night you take me…and I take you~”

The way he said that last line had your heart pounding. From fear? Lust? Desire? You weren’t sure but the position you were in quickly fogged your thoughts of any hesitation.

You softly traced the designs and skin revealed through his lingerie, in almost a teasing manner.

All that could be heard was Danny cute sighs and breaths.

You gently uncovered his sensitive spot, wanting so bad to just rip his lace off but you didn’t wanna make him change his mind and kill you on the spot so you kept it soft.

You gently pushed a finger in him as you heard Danny’s moan almost immediately, not only that but the feeling of him being a little loose already.

He’s been touching himself.

“I ah~ sorry if I-I’m a little lose I c-can’t help but touch myself around you mm~”

All you could do is smile at him as you knew, you didn’t need to prep him at all. He’s been so needy for you he’s already ready.

With that you harshly held his head against the countertop as you shoved yourself inside him with no warning.

The moan that followed sent chills down your stomach… so High in pitch…Godamn he sounded like a bitch in heat.

“I ah, mm sorry I can’t help it shit~”

You grabbed his throat, squeezing it a bit but not too tight to suffocate him.

“Shut the hell up”

Danny listens immediately, legs already trembling as you manage to hit all his sensitive spots with no issue.

“I uh~ hah~ you feel so good please don’t stop, don’t ever stop~”

Never in your sex life have you ever heard someone so needy and desperate to be fucked. Not even your wife was this submissive to you.

However the sweets cries and moans he released only fueled you to keep going, tightening your grip on his waist as you fucked him faster and relentless.

Danny’s masked slipped of a little during the movement of getting fucked out, his mouth was revealed to you.

Danny didn’t seem to mind. But you? You felt the butterflies swarm in your stomach from the view.

His mouth was open, drooling and smiling, his sharp canines biting his bottom lip a few times.

You felt that feeling of wanting to cum swarm your groin and you lifted up his legs with your arms, releasing his neck.

“I~ gah~ I’m gonna cum so hard against your country mm~ you want me to hmm?~ I’m gonna coat this counter in my cum~”

Danny said, nails scratching at the marble counter, not doing any damage but he still tried anyway

You continued fucking him, as your dick shot out cum into him. Danny took in a deep breath as he felt you cum into him, the feeling making him cum as well.

You both were trying to catch your breaths as you let go of his legs, sitting on your couch as you continued to take deep breaths.

Danny chuckled, pulling his mask and robe back to how they originally were.

“Yknow~ I wouldn’t mind doing this again~” he said, walking over to you.

You grinned at him, smiling before looking at the kitchen again.

Danny sat on your lap, mask fixed as he stared at you.

You felt panic rush through your ribs and chest when you noticed the knife he had set on the counter was gone.

Your eyes widened as you looked at him in panic, sure enough there he was, holding the knife in hand.

You couldn’t scream, not even a yelp came out before he waved goodbye, plunging the knife in your heart.

“I’ll make sure you’ll be in the newspaper for weeks~”

Your vision went black as a click of a camera could be heard.

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