#also me: fuck i'm gonna write a walking dead au

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Demon Children Are Multiplying

This idea is still stuck in my head, and I might even end up writing something out of it, but for now, I just thought of something equally really, really stupid and really, really funny.

What if I combine that idea with Al Ghul Twins. I don't know how. Maybe Talia was cautious about Ra's not wanting to keep two kids for a position of Heir, or maybe she staged Danny's death, or maybe something else entirely happened. But anyway, Danny is Damian's twin.

Then, Dani is the same age as Danny in this AU. And Dan is de-aged to be the same age as both of them.

Now behold an absolute train wreck of a situation where Bruce attends a Gala hosted by Vladimir Masters. Together with Damian, of course, and maybe other batkids are there too. They all part their ways to make their rounds or whatnot. And they all keep seeing Damian wherever they go. Just everywhere.

Dick is talking to someone, and Damian walks past him, not paying him any attention. Which is not surprising, but a little rude, and, wait, wasn't he wearing a red tie? When did he change it to green one?

Tim is just going on the top floor to greet a lady he recognizes from some other event, and Damian all but storms in the opposite direction, only letting Tim catch a glimpse of his face. But when Tim turns around, he is really confused: the person running down the stairs is clearly a girl, albeit she is wearing a suit. Her long hair is up in a complicated braid. Why did he even mistake her for Damian?

But the ultimate confusion happens when Bruce is talking to Vladimir Masters, and a very familiar voice calls, "Father". Because both he and Vladimir turn to face the boy and ask, "Yes?" at the same time.

Damian is standing there, looking between Bruce and Vlad. He looks a little off somehow, but before Bruce can figure out why, the boy blinks and focuses on Vlad.

"We've been looking for you," he tells the man, and, wait, when was Damian looking for Masters? Furthermore, who is we?

But then another child comes closer. And-

That's Damian.

That's two Damians.

Wait, no, none of them are Damians.

"What is it?" Vladimir raises an eyebrow, not paying too much attention to Bruce's blanched expression.

A third child comes towards them, and this one also looks like Damian, only this one is a girl.

"Template's duplicate is here," she says, and Vlad frowns, turning to the Damian lookalike in the middle.

"Have you had another incident that I don't know of?"

Whatever answer the boy wanted to give is cut off by a n o t h e r child who looks like- no, this is real Damian, thank God, Bruce had started to wonder if the champagne was spiked with hallucinogens.

"Father-" he stops in his tracks as the three other children turn to him, and the four of them just stare at each other for a long moment. Then the one in the middle takes a sharp breath in and stage-whispers:

"Quick, do the meme!"

And all three not-Damians start pointing at each other.

Bruce is going to have an aneurysm. Judging by Vladimir's face, he is also not far from one.

Just my ramblings under the cut

I think you all know what meme I'm talking about, but I'm still gonna add it

This is so fucking hilarious to me, I'm sorry, I just can't

Danny is not missing this opportunity of a lifetime, even though Vlad specifically asked all three of them not to cause a scene. And yes, they all call Vlad "father" just for the spite of it or for shits and giggles. I'm going with Bad Fentons idea here, although I'm not sure to which degree they are bad, but anyway, Vlad is their legal guardian, and he is redeemed.

Yes, Dick took a picture. Yes, it's already in the group chat. Yes, other batkids are going wild.

Damian is greatly confused because, first, he thought there was a clone of him at the gala, but apparently, there were three of them, and second, why are they pointing at each other? Should he join them? He is under the assumption his brother is dead (he's not exactly wrong on that account), or he doesn't even know he existed.

This is as far as I got now, feel free to add anything!

[bitchimasnake-sss]

hi lovely🥹 i'm sorry if i am being unreasonable, but may i ask, for more stories of stepbro!op monster trio? sorry to bother 🥹🫂

you guys are never unreasonable!!! unless, you like ask me to write actual incest cause frankly that goes beyond my (very lose) morals. but step-brothers? we love (fictional) step-brothers. you got it! like always, also adding ace and law!! hope you enjoy, pretty <3

☆thinkin' about: the monster trio, ace 'n law! vs familial relations, shh!

NOT PROOFREAD. JUST UTTERLY HORNY AND PERVERTED. tw: CONCEPT OF STEP-CEST, PORN LOGIC, DUB-CON. BIMBOFICATION. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. [i.e. if you do not feel okay reading such concepts, please scroll/click away. thankyou in advance.] cw: lots of porn logic. set in modern au. nsfw includes: a lot of overstimulation blowjob, cockwarming, penetration, cunnilingus, fingering, some bondage and use of toys and smex. lots of smex. MDNI OR I WILL ACTUALLY FIND YOU USING BLACK MAGIC. SIT THIS ONE OUT, KIDS. m.list

🍒monkey d. luffy: your favourite meal, 'nichan!

❤️monkey d. luffy is not quite sure which he loves more, you or food. because when he entered the kitchen in the dead of the night, he only really wanted to eat something to soothe his insatiable hunger. how lucky, he found you there instead! "l-luffy," you squirm under his tight grip on your thighs as his tongue swipes against your clit once more. when he looks up, his lips are drenched in everything you, "what?" "someone's gonna see." you mumble, trying feebly to pull at his hair and get him to part with your pretty pussy. but luffy just holds you down tighter on the kitchen counter, making sure your trembling cunt doesn't run away from him. he's still hungry, after all. he gives you a dopey smile, the kind that has you believing all of his false lies, "nobody's gonna come, pretty." he licks a soft stripe up your wet pussy, softly chuckling at his own joke, "i mean, you will." "nobody will?" you echo innocently, words falling down your wobbling lips so easily as he pulls your hips to himself and starts feasting like a man ravished. he moans against your folds, "nobody, i promise." his nose nudges against your clit so dangerously well, his tongue slides into your sickly sweet hole so easily and as he fucks up the muscle into you, you swear you feel his tongue stretch as if to hit you g-spot. "l-luffy, ohmygod," you practically feel yourself drip onto your step-mother's freakishly clean counter tops and half-heartedly try to think of a lie to tell her when she asks you about the stain. "tsk," you step-brother shakes his head so softly around your cunt, pulling back his drenched face just to nudge his digits into your hole instead, "don't worry about the mess, i'll clean it up all by myself." and from the way your step-brother was licking at you clit, drinking in every candied, syrupy essence out of you, you were sure he meant it. "just relax, and let me have my share." he husked into your bundle of nerves, right hand pumping and curling into your heat, "i got the rest, peach."

🍀roronoa zoro:

💚"zoro?" you ask so softly, and your voice echoes back towards you from the empty changing room. your step-brother had asked you to come see him once his practice was over. he claimed it was an emergency, and wouldn't you be a terrible younger step-sister if you ignored your brother in a dire situation like this? "in here." his voice echoes from the shower as you meekly find yourself walking to one of the closed stalls. calling out again, you stand in front of the stall, "zoro?" the door opens momentarily and you're pulled in by his sturdy hand on your wrist. as soon as your gain some semblance of sanity, you're face to face with your step-brother. the shower is still running in the background, and water droplets softly run down his ripped, naked body. "what's the emergency?" you ask softly but zoro brings his hands up to your lips, softly swiping his thumb across your pouty bottom lip before meeting your eyes. he rasps, "i had a shit match. 'm so angry right now, think you can make it better, pretty?" you nodded, knowing just what would cheer your brother up. after all, that's what a good step-sister should do! sinking down to your knees, you gaze up at him one last time before softly grabbing his aching, erect cock in your hands. zoro moans at your soft touches, and it spurs you to lick his tip leisurely. your hands move up and down over and over again as his tip slips past your lips. you taste his beading pre on your tongue and your thighs rub against each-other as you feel the wetness build up in your panties. "good girl." zoro husks, throwing his head back and guiding you to softly take more of him in. he tastes like he always does: sea-salt and something tangy, and you hum around the familiar taste, "jus' like that, so, so good for me." you hum around him again, gagging just a little bit as his tip kisses the back of throat, "r-really?" "of course." zoro hums, pulling you off his aching cock to let you breathe, "think ya can take it whole?" you nod with conviction and the green-haired jock smears his tip across your lips, smirking down at the way you part your mouth to let him line it easier, "cute." he guides you to take him past your glossy lips, "take it. take it whole."

🫐vinsmoke sanji:

💙"and how does this one taste?" sanji asks innocently, feeding you a bite from the cake he had baked, "good?" you nod, words wobbling, "'s r-eally good, sanji." "awh," your step-mother claps, "'m so glad you both are working hard together for the bake sale! alright, i'm off to the market. be good, both of you." "of course." sanji nods and you feel him press his erection onto you from behind. teasing you. telling you just what was waiting for you. you were lucky that your lower halves were hidden by the kitchen island otherwise your step-mother would have seen that sanji had his hands down your shorts, teasing your clit while pretending he was such a saint. as soon as you both hear the woman slam the front-door and leave, sanji drops his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent like a man crazed. his forefinger and thumb pinch your clit so meanly and you buck into him as a result, "s-sanji." "don't you think you should thank me?" your step-brother rasps, pulling your folds apart so he could thumb your clit better, "i helped you bake for your sale." "th-thankyou." you stutter at the way his fingers keep circling your sensitive nub, "how should i... thank you?" "let me make you cum." he hums definitively, slipping his hand further to let one finger inside you, "ah, you always feel this good. 's almost addictive." "it... it is?" you buck into his hand, desperately rutting to get the friction on your clit from him. but sanji never let you beg, ofcourse. he riles you up instead, "what's that, baby? want more?" and the blonde shoves another finger without you nodding. curling his digits, he moans at the way your gummy walls clench around him, how your wetness was dripping down his hand and wetting your short, how you brought your own up hand to your tits to play with your perky nipples. "you're so cute." sanji hums, pumping into you without faltering, "come on, pretty girl. cum all over me. let me taste you."

🦋portgas d. ace:

🧡"tsk, wrong again?" your older step-brother softly shakes his head. if it weren't for the slight smirk in his tone, you would have thought he was seriously disappointed in you. "'m sorry." you mumble, hips squirming as as he wraps his muscled arms around your waist to hold you still. he rests his head in the crook of your neck, softly whispering to you, "y'know i had to skip hanging out with my friends to help you do this assignment. and now? you're getting all of them wrong." "i cannot focus..." your voice trembles and he laughs in return, "really? why not?" he hums, "you know how busy i am, right?" and you did! you knew he was busy with his own things and asking for his help over this uni assignment was stupid... but, he was always so good at teaching, that you had to ask him. "tell me..." he wonders aloud, "why cannot you focus?" but how could you? you were stuffed full of your step-brothers cock. his length stayed unmoving inside you, and the way you could feel every little vein against your velvety walls. he was so mean! he said he would fuck you once you finished your assignment, until them let him cockwarm in you. but it had been so long and he was still unmoving!! "ah, well... you know the punishment." he whispers in mock distress, and your pussy trembles against his length in anticipation. his hand comes down on your clit. a harsh, little slap that has you dripping down his length and wet both your clothes. "try again." ace says definitively, "c'mon, you're surely not as dumb as you're acting." and then, something clicks. "hah, unless..." your step-brother's fingers come down to tease your exposed, overstimulated clit again, "you're purposefully getting them wrong because you want me to do..." he slaps your cunt again, "this?" "no!" you shake your head, voice growing even weaker, "i- i didn't. promise." but he just grins, "shit. if you liked that so much, should've told me sooner, princess."

🪻trafalgar d. water law:

💜"you know i need to practice, right?" your step-brother repeats and you nod in return, "i... i know. don't worry, law." you knew he was a med student, and you knew how important it was for him to be able to understand the human body from a close, physical point of view! and especially, for him to better examine women, he needed to understand them well, didn't he? and well, that's where you came in. you lay in his bed, your arms and legs tied to the leg posts as law peers down at you, "let me just see how you react, okay?" you nod and law brings the buzzing toy to your glistening cunt. as the vibrator comes in contact with your exposed clit, you involuntarily jerk your hips away, eyes clenching shut in delight. your hips stutter all-too-pathetically and law takes the toy away to note something down. your tattooed doctor looks down at you as if scrutinizing you, "hm, feel good?" and you can't help but nod desperately, "y-yes." "then, tell me." there's this sadistic glint in his eyes, "i told you, talk to me through it. how else would i know how you react, right?" "i-i'm sorry." you catch your wobbling lips under your teeth, a sorry expression plastered to your face as law slowly brings the toy back to your anticipating body. "f-feels good, law." you stutter as the toy constantly nags against your sensitive nub, and law nods as if he's serious, "does it? describe it better for me, could you?" "it feels..." your words get stuck in your throat, eyes widening at the lewd things you're about to say. you avert your gaze, "i- don't wanna say such things." "oh?" law quirks an eyebrow, his lips pressed into a thin line as if unveiling his disappointment. your stomach drops at his reaction. after all, what kind of step-sister were you?! he mumbles gravely, "but it's for my study, y'know that. there's no shame in helping your older step-brother, right?" "i-" your step-brother gives you a re-assuring nod, and your voice trembles as he teases you, "it f-feels good... like my body's gonna explode, an-and it's good." "it's good?" he repeats and you nod, trying to rest your eyes on him despite your squirming body, "y-yes." "that's a relief." he huffs, pressing the toy against your clit harshly now, "i'm glad my girl's having fun." law exchanges the toy for his thumb instead, giving you a soft smile, "let me see how this feels for you."

a/n: hahahaha I SWEAR IM SANE!!! I SWEAR!!! yes, my digital footprint goes crazy, thanks for asking. don't ask again. also. the feminine urge to write the all of these drabbles longer and without step-cest... hm, anyone on board?? anyways, glad to see you having fun you filthy, filthy person :// m.list

[tideswept]

Obikin pretty woman au 😏😏😏😏

anon, this has been in my inbox for ages. just. torturing me. tempting me. winking lasciviously at me.

and I have to ask myself every time I come across it, do I really want to write another prostitute!Anakin AU? Does it have to be Anakin? And in my heart of hearts, I know that the answer is yes, and I should accept it. Because damn, could he pull off the outfits.

but I dunno. I'm weird? I like to do weird things? also never actually adapted a movie to a fic? Not yet anyway.

(Practical Magical AU fic, when will it be your turn?)

so I think

.....

okay, let the brain percolate

I think it should be Anakin who finds Obi-Wan. Who is just. He's had a bad day, okay? Like, fantastically fucking bad, big rich money business deals, he's stressed and tired of being the Negotiator but lives are at stake here, employees who need to keep their jobs, so he has to swallow back the stress--but he's been swallowing back that stress for years now.

He's tired.

He didn't mean to just walk out of the 5-star hotel. What he needed was a drink, and not the kind they served at the hotel bar, charging 50 credits for a shot. No, he needs it cheap and dirty and burning on the way down.

"Shit, you look awful," the voice says, and a body sits down next to him on the curb. Normally Obi-Wan wouldn't appreciate a stranger appearing out of nowhere and getting so close to him, but this stranger smells nice, actually. And they're warm, whereas he seems to have lost his jacket at some point between the first and third bar.

"You can't be out here like this, you know? Gonna get mugged and left for dead."

The voice is young enough that it bothers Obi-Wan. And that's how he meets Anakin Skywalker, who's also tired, except he's only twenty-two and hasn't been further than a hundred miles from where he was born. Anakin's got a black eye because he got a fight with a nerfherder and he's not that bothered, some people think that's hot. It's not really going to cut into his profits.

He lights up and offers the death stick to the strange, classy man that definitely shouldn't be sitting on the street after midnight on that liminal strip of road where respectable turns to grimy, and pulls off his high heeled boots and tucks them to the side, switching them over for practical running shoes he keeps in his bag.

Obi-Wan just sort of stares. And then takes the death stick. And for some reason, he's just drunk enough that he starts talking about the shit day he's had, and the even worse week he's about to have.

Anakin snorts and makes catty comments that have Obi-Wan smiling, because that's exactly what he's too polite to say. Too much the Negotiator.

"God," Anakin says after the death stick has long crumbled to ashes. "You need either a serious marathon fuck or drugs. Maybe both. And then to quit your job and do something that doesn't make you want to die."

And Obi-Wan thinks that's the greatest idea he's ever heard.

"Are you--" he nods at the boots. They're rather unmistakable in purpose. And the boy is hardly dressed for the cold night.

"If you're a cop, no," Anakin answers. "If you're asking for how much for the night, you're too fucking drunk, my guy, and I'm too tired to get vomited on. You want me to call you a car or are you just gonna sit here until someone does decide to mug you?"

Obi-Wan chooses the car.

(He comes back the next day to find Anakin. Cue the rest of the movie? CLOTHING MONTAGE. Uhhhhh Qui-Gon as the hotel clerk?)

[yeyinde]

I'm gonna mention this to you because you also like slashers and COD so I imagine there's a little monster fucking in there possibly? But god imagine Ghost as a non-human tho. Just like an actual beast of a man. Sharp canines, solid black eyes, bigger than what you had thought possible for a human. You barely notice when you first start because you don't want to inconvenience your Lieutenant. But things start sticking out. When he's not working, you notice the way he moves is like he's stalking something. Sometimes he huffs like a wolf. You make eye contact on a mission and really finally look, but there's nothing there. Just glossy black.

You're getting fucked by Soap in your cot, on top and facing a wall and he clicks his tongue and something moves behind you. Ghost steps out of the shadows, panting like a dog, and Soap is like "you don't mind if he joins do ya?"

Also calling him a good boy and patting his head 😌

I just think it would be hot and would explain some of the ways people write him as if he's an inhuman creature

sooooo on board with all of this!!!!

i try to be sneaky about it but i've described this man as a Cimmerian not just for the darkness aspect but the mythos too since it kinda fits him (and i love relating things that have no right to be related).

Ghost AU where he's some primordial being. a monster. a werewolf, perhaps. it has so much potential. i kept thinking about it, and this kinda got away from me. sorry!

When you join the 141, there is a heaviness in the atmosphere. A strange, stifling weight you can't make sense of. Tension. An unease. 

They tell you you're full of life when you walk in the room, smiling at them—but it sounds like a curse. They whisper it, as if they're afraid of speaking it aloud. Eyes filled with a gravity you can't begin to understand. 

You turn to leave, and they say stay away from him.

The him in this equation is made known when you set your eyes on the behemoth they call Ghost. 

When you cross his path, he stops completely. The world around you falls dead. Deafening silence. His eyes are a perfect polynya when he gazes at you. His head tips back, baleen lines stretching out. And then breathes in deep. Scenting the air.

His broad chest expands with it. A rumble sounds from low in his chest.

No man can be like this. 

(He was once a man, Soap muses. Maybe. Probably. Called him Simon. Simon Riley.

How can someone probably be a man?

His eyes are grave, shrouded in the mourning fog that sits low on the tombstones. You don't wanna know, bonnie.)

They tell you little about him, but you notice things. They keep their distance, and drop their chins when men go missing. No one looks. No one says a word. 

They're just—

Gone. Forgotten. 

Everything they once were is hidden away in a closet that can barely shut. 

Don't worry about it, hen. 

Just happens sometimes, mate. 

Don't go sticking your nose where it shouldn't be. 

You should listen. Heed their advice. 

But he's enthralling. A being made entirely of death. 

A strange feeling that settles low in your chest. There is a yearning inside of you that wants to know everything about this behemoth shrouded in tenebrose—a siren's call, beckoning you closer. It calls to you in the dead of night. spools over your thoughts until your head is full of him, him, him—

He's an enigma. A mystery. 

And then you see in battle. A shadow. A myth. No man can spill that much blood. 

Dread spools thick on your guts. A man like him should not exist in this moral realm. He does not belong. 

You turn to Soap—a man (human: flesh and bone, real)—but it does little to stem the fever inside.

He catches you when you sneak out of his room, smelling of alder and sex. 

He stares at you. Midnight hour, devils night—the warnings are tucked into the recesses of those unfathomable depths. Fear pools, knots inside of you.

"Have fun, pet?"

There is a chill in his voice, a growl deep in the pits of his being that resound through the corridor and make your bones shake. 

He stares at you—a greedy, covetous tinge in those Stygian depths. 

You're playing a dangerous game. Waving your breakable fingers in front of the maw of a starving beast. 

Stay away, Soap says. You really don't know what you're getting into, bonnie.

You smile. I know. I will. (Liar)

Something breaks. Curiosity. Obsession. Your neck prickles when he's close. You hear a rush of water when those black eyes pierce you; the call of a river thick with the stench of death. You think of the Styx when he turns to you. Hands shackled to your wrist; grip tight. no escape. terror blooms inside of you.

run run run run

"Watch your step, rookie."

Is that a warning in his voice? Why does it sound so—

Beguiling. Taunting. He gets under your skin. spellbinds you. You can't stop thinking about him.

You feel him in the shadows. Liquid black; death. Sometimes, you look at him, and you think you hear a hiss in the back of your head when your feet move, bringing you closer. An augury. a portant. 

Aeons ago, they warned naïve wanderers like you to be wary of the quietus in the fog.

—he leads you not into salvation—

You find him waiting for you, covered in blood and reeking of death. His head lifts. The Styx in his eyes. Damnation in the tilt of his head. He'll be your ruin. Your demise.

Your name falls from his lips.

(Too lost in the magnetism, that primal draw that brings you closer and closer, you miss the anathema that taints the word.)

His hand reaches out to you. Deadly, dangerous. Each breath he takes rumbles the ground around you. He smells of hellfire and rot. Sulphur. Ichor. It leaks into your lungs, your marrow. 

You're drenched in the ashes of Zaqqum.

A distant, almost atavistic warning rears in the back of your head tells you to run. But why? He's just a man. Just your Lieutenant.

Your fate is sealed the moment you place your fingers in the cup of his palm.

—but into perdition—

[necrotic-nephilim]

Do you have any more ideas about the dead dove vampire!dickxtim au you wrote a while ago? It's lived in my head ever since and I'd love to know more.

first of all thank you so much that's so sweet! second of all, i have SO many ideas you have no idea. that fic ate at my brain for like a month before i found the time to write it so i had plenty of ideas i didn't fully explore. i'm adding a read more just bc. that was one of my more fucked up fics so i don't want to subject anyone to a necro kink jumpscare

so one of the big ideas i've thought about with that fic is Tim dealing with the aftermath of it, right. bc he's of course going to hide it from everyone. the Batfam all just neds to hold onto the hope that they can save Dick somehow, and knowing what Dick did would kill any lingering hope that there's anything left of Dick Grayson in the walking husk that he's become. so Tim has to deal with the worst of it alone, probably not even mentioning he ran into Dick.

the fun part tho is that above everything else, Tim wouldn't be able to let go of Dick's comment about fantasizing about Tim before being a vampire. Tim knows the comment was made just to get in his head, but that doesn't stop it from working. he spends hours pouring over old footage of him and Dick training, hanging out, on patrol, anything he can find. just to like. try to find evidence of Dick's gaze lingering. it eats Tim alive not knowing one way or the other if it was a lie. if it's true, at least it makes it easier for Tim to move on from the memory of Dick. but not knowing is worse. and he never finds anything that satiates the question so like. that'd destroy Tim the most. (the real answer is that Dick genuinely didn't feel attraction to Tim before being a vampire, *but* Dick is convinced he did bc being a vampire fucked him up so badly that he's become his own unreliable narrator. so it's both true and untrue, and in the end, it doesn't matter either way bc Tim is fucked up by the thought of it and even if they "fixed" Dick by curing him, i think Dick's romantic feelings would linger in the horror of what he did.)

i'm really just. in love with Dick's feelings toward Tim in the fic. the most difficult part of the fic was figuring out how to end it, bc sure as a sexual fantasy Dick is obsessed with killing Tim, but he's also deeply in love with Tim, so it's difficult to follow through on. Dick wants to make Tim a vampire more than anything, but he is genuinely worried about how well it'd take for Tim. the fic doesn't really go into who's on Dick's side as a vampire, but i personally believe he's turned most of the Titans. probably some of his own rogues as well, i could see him turning Slade. i can't explain why, those are just the vibes.

it is important to me just how much of Dick's feelings for Tim are based in him not wanting Tim to live under Bruce's thumb. like the whole vampire brain has convinced Dick that Bruce is somehow the villain in this, and it was Bruce's control keeping Dick from being the person he wanted to be. it's a very warped reality and if i continued the fic i'd love for the second part to be from Dick's perspective just to have fun with the unreliable narrator of it.

back to the porn tho. Dick would seek TIm out again. probably in Tim's own apartment, just bc he wants to destroy every safe space Tim has. getting into Tim's head is an important part of breaking TIm down. the fear of Tim fighting back against being a vampire is one that Dick is trying to figure out how to manage and his current plan is to break Tim mentally. it's why he brings up wanting to sleep with TIm before being a vampire. he *knows* it's gonna fuck up Tim. and the more he puts these little cracks in Tim's psyche, the more he's sure he's breaking Tim down enough to be able to turn him. so going to Tim's apartment and proving that at any point, Dick can easily find Tim and fuck him. always holding the threat of killing Tim over his head. and Dick knows Tim didn't tell anyone when days pass after their first meeting and no Bat comes after him so like. Dick really just pushes the limits. i think he would brand Tim just bc he can. i also got a comment on the fic that mentioned Dick stabbing Tim and fucking the wound and i canNOT get that image out of my head either-

and the necro/snuff kink just. Dick playing the long game, so it takes maybe months of stalking Tim, going after him. sometimes he fucks Tim, sometimes he just fights and taunts him. and all the talk about killing Tim fucks with Tim's head a little bit. i think it'd be fun if it killed Tim's ability to have vanilla/normal sex with someone else, like Kon. it's hard for Tim to understand anyone being attracted to him in a way that doesn't involve him being a dead body. i don't think he develops the kink fully, but he does end up convincing himself being a corpse is the only way he's attractive bc of all the things Dick has said to him. it all plays into Dick psychologically breaking Tim.

i am a lover of fucked up/unhappy endings so. for me. the ending would be Dick following through on his plan to kill Tim and turn him. it'd take months for Dick to work up the courage bc TIm was absolutely right when he pointed out that Dick was too scared to actually follow through on his fantasy. Dick tries, multiple times. he convinces himself no less than five times that this is going to be the one. this'll be the time he really does it. but just as Tim starts to die, Dick panics. i think it's especially fun if once Dick even gives Tim CPR bc of his cold feet. so Tim does "die" for a second and has to brutally come back while Dick is buried inside of him.

but when Dick does it, his fears manifest in that Tim does *not* take being a vampire well. he's constantly trying to kill himself (in the time it takes for Dick to break Tim, Tim probably does figure out what poison can kill a vampire) and Dick ends up having to keep Tim locked up so Tim doesn't kill himself. would truly love to try to write Tim as mentally shattered as possible. part of him loves Dick, but he's fighting himself so hard he's not even sure if it's the vampire side that loves Dick or the human side. he's kept like a human pet, bc Dick is convinced he'll get Tim to accept it sooner or later. just a very fun, very fucked up sort of ending. i say this about all the fics i write but this one specifically i do *really* want to continue someday. i know exactly the direction i'd take it, and it could turn into a pretty long fic with a lot of fucked up porn, a lot of unrequited love, and an eventual mind break for Tim.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Hello! I just saw your Matriarch post! Can you possibly do a prologue about her backstory and her going to the other dimension with a batfamily and batmom that are still alive and together? And possibly a part 1 where she just walks into the Batcave one night after she sends out an all-call to the bats and the league and once they all start questioning what is going on she comes out and tells them about her backstory and how she'll prevent her future from happening by offing the rogues one by one and saying something like "I'm the only one who could ever succeed in doing this. And do you know why... it's because I know exactly how each and every hero and villain alike think. I know every plan and protocol in place that both sides of the gallery (i.e. meaning the heroic side and villainous side) have in place, how to stop or outsmart them, and every single possible move any of you could make against me. If you think you can stop your wife, mother, friend, or whatever else I am to you, then by all means... I invite you all to play my game, if you can capture me AND discover my plan, then I'll stop for good and go back to my time. But should I be victorious, well, the world and all of you are MINE."

Sorry for it being so long! And for the long monologue!

[Damn, that is good!!]

[Matriarch Au]

Notes.

In this au (Y/N) pretends to be a hero for the public sake. A part-timer of the league in the future.

Bruce doesn't know (but has suspicion) she is killing or torturing almost half of his rouge gallery.

She's afraid that Bruce won't love her become of his no-killing code.

There's technically a "(Y/N)" in this timeline who meets Bruce and falls in love. But, The Matriarch technically killed her before she could meet Bruce.

But here's another question. How does this (Y/N) interact with the Batfamily?

Since (Y/N) knows of each horrible thing that has happened to her children and lover. Batmom is very protective then most other Batmoms.

She still wants to give her children freedom, but also knows that when she did... They were beaten or almost killed for the sake of protecting others.

Batmom decided to mess with this world's timeline so it would be better than her own. But still deliberately decided to let some things stay the same.

1st Example, Dick Grayson. Now depending if Batmom came around before Dicks parents demise is up to you. But in this instance where she did, Batmom would try to save his parents but it doesn't work out.

2nd would be Jason, this is where it gets kinda fucked up.

Batmom is a very caring individual but Matriarch isn't.

Batmom would do whatever she can to make sure Jason will never know of his mother being alive. Batmom will even go out of her way to guilt-trip Jason and emotionally manipulate him. To the point where he doesn't care if his real mother is alive or dead.

But, if Jason does end up curious and decides to find his mother. Aw hell he ain't gonna be free from Batmoms protection. Including Matriarch.

Batmom will get Bruce on her side to not let Jason out of the house or better yet city to look for his mother. It will take a lot of convincing and emotional manipulation part two. Anything regarding Jason's mother or possibly anyone close to bearing resemblance is wiped from the Bat-computer database.

If Jason managed to find a way to convince Batmom or escape Gotham. You are three steps ahead as Batmom or Matriarch.

The only way Jason could even wind up dead is if Batmom was a second too late.

From that point on if that happens, it'll be a much worse for the latter members and friends of the Batfam.

(Y/N) has and will install trackers on everything and anyone. Your always listening, always alert.

You'll put on the facade sure, but the truth of it all is that.. You're no longer just "scared". No you're terrified, to the point you have the smallest threat or villain is your biggest enemy.

-

[I'll write more for Batmom/Yandere/Villain reader! I swear! If you guys want more let me know, I still gotta describe how Matriarch Au deals with villains.]

[Maybe even write a angst dead dove do not eat fic later hopefully. Thank you for reading!]

[reds-skull]

BLOOD||HUNGER

[AO3]

Sooo I maybe started writing the new AU already... and maybe already wrote 2 chapters...

I'll say it on ao3, but I'm planning on having longer chapters for this fic compared to Not Alive, Nor Dead, so I won't be posting as frequently. That being said, I did write these 2 chapters in 2 days so... it might happen anyway lmao.

Also, I'll be putting the cut before the chapter so it will be easier to scroll by if any of you aren't interested.

As a sidenote, for this fic I'll be adding qoutes at the top of each chapter, and I suggest reading them because they are pretty important to the story!

Now, onto chapter 1, "Wræclast (Path of Exile)"

Page 1 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 1:

Often were the stars, the only witness to me, To my regrets, to the stories of a fallen knight, It is only the sun and moon, that could hear my words, And yet none understand, the cries of a fallen man, The man who hides friends, in dark and rich earth, A friendless man, that he is. Where have the horses gone? Where have their masters leapt? Where have the knights fallen? The dark is all he knows, nightshadows risen, He walks alone, a blind man.

Often was Soap told, “stop trying to be the hero, MacTavish.”

He was told that by his CO on the mission that earned him his callsign, where he first found the true meaning of war. He was told that on missions he refused to listen, where he would run off to try and save what little life was left to die.

He was told that on the day he was dishonorably discharged for disobeying direct orders.

John likes to pretend life afterwards was peaceful. That while, yes, he hasn’t held down a job for longer than 4 months since, and he’s behind on a couple of months on rent, and he walks alone more often than not, he is happy. Content.

Right now, drenched in rainwater and mud, acting amounts to fuck all.

His heart beats fast, faster than it ever did on the field. Because this isn’t the field, John isn’t a soldier. He doesn’t belong in wars anymore.

John’s eyes dart around the dark alleys of the city, the silence a discomfort more than anything. Silence means everything else has ran away, or died. He shudders again, the chill biting through his clothes (civilian, flimsy, made more for show than any practicality), when he hears a whimper. He freezes in his tracks and strains his ears.

“Shhh” a small voice whispers, following words in a language he doesn’t understand. They belong to someone young, far too young to be here alone.

A voice in his mind tells John to turn away. “Don’t be a hero. Don’t be a hero.” it screams. John tramples it down.

He doesn’t need to be a hero, but he won’t ignore the literal cries of children. He can take them with him as they get out of this city.

Not a hero. Not a fucking hero.

John slowly gets closer to the sobbing kids, zeroing in on a small shed, its wooden doors rotten. “Hey” he whispers softly, and the voices instantly quiet. “I’m not gonna hurt ye, I’m not one of them.” 

The doors creak slightly as one eye peaks at him, wide and teary. He keeps his hands above his head, showing his lack of gear and weapons. After a few moments, the door opens.

A child, no older than 13, hugs a toddler, both big eyes look over him concernedly. John smiles, tried to seem reassuring even as his heart breaks a little more. It’s not a sight he ever got used to, children in war zones. He hoped he wouldn’t see it again, but life, as they say, finds a way.

“Where are yer parents?” John lowers his arms and squats slowly. The older kid frowns, opening and closing her mouth. “They… not...” she mumbles in English, sputtering a few more words he doesn’t know.

“Do ye know where they are?” he tried asking.

The kid carefully lets go of the toddler, their sibling, John assumes, and starts motioning with her arms.

She folds her fingers in the shape of a pistol, brings it to John’s head, and presses the pretend trigger. Her eyes don’t waver from his, and it strikes him how empty they are, as if all life bled out of them with the mimed shot.

John nods. He wished he had time to let them mourn, but he fears for the moment they hear boot-clad steps echo through the streets again, in search for more children to orphan.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get ye out of ‘ere.” he offers the older sister a hand, and the kid takes it hesitantly, “stay close to me, and we will get through this.” The kid holds tight onto the toddler in her other hand, and nods.

As he guides the children through the narrow streets, mud splashing under their feet, John wonders back to the moment it all started.

A few hours earlier

John stumbles into a bar. Or at least he thinks it’s a bar, either that or it's a “vap”. He’s still not really familiar with the alphabet here. 

The place is quite empty, save for a few rugged older men staring him down. John steps up to the counter, noticing the bottles of alcohol on display, and tries to flag the bartender. The man stops his conversation with another patron, and asks, “what?” with a heavy accent.

John nods behind him, “ye have Scotch?”

The bartender stares for a moment, before scoffing and turning around, grabbing a bottle off the higher shelf, and slamming it down in front of John. He couldn’t read the label, but the color seemed right at the very least.

“Cash?” the bartender grunts, and John pulls out a few bills to hand him. The man counts them, satisfied, and turns back to his previous conversation partner, “enjoy”.

John grins, “I’ll certainly will, cheers.” He takes one of the shot glasses and fills up a few fingers worth of the amber liquid. He lifts the glass and takes a swig, only to grimace when it burns down his throat.

It’s fuckin’ Bourbon. John glares at the offending bottle. They don’t have Scotch, but they got this shite? He should’ve stayed in Scotland.

John sighs, gloomily sipping on the foul drink. He knows he couldn’t have stayed there a second longer, senses buzzing for something more than a monotonous desk job and a gym full of pumped pricks who wouldn’t survive a fraction of what he had. It felt like he was choking, drowning in the repetition. 

He tried tamping down his need for action, for the first few months after the discharge. His therapist suggested him to find a new hobby, but nothing truly interested him. John knew what he really wanted, and it wasn’t steamin’ knitting another scarf.

The only thing he did, when he wasn’t in his stupidly mind-numbing job, or working out, was drawing. It’s a hobby he had while in service, sketching the locations he went to while on missions, passing the time in between fights. Little notes from debriefs, reminders, memorabilia.

His journal from the service was confiscated. Too many sensitive details, they told him. John fought tooth and nail, but it didn’t matter. 

He bought a new one, but it was a pathetic copy of his previous journal. The drawings meant nothing to him, just as much as his surroundings did, so John started sketching from memory. Against his therapist’s instructions, he started thinking more and more about the past.

It started consuming him. John couldn’t focus on the job, got told off, and because he was a little shit, talked back. 

He stopped going to the gym, instead going to self defence classes, where he was usually more experienced than the instructor themselves, but his blood still cheered every time he sparred with someone. Eventually, he got kicked out of those, for being too aggressive. It was hard to hold back, when he was used to sparring with soldiers.

John went to airsoft fields, the guns a familiar weight in his arms. It settled something in him for a while, but he grew bored of shooting down inexperienced teens.

It came to a breaking point when he was threatened with being evicted. His sister called the day before, screaming at John to get it together, crying that he wasn’t himself anymore, begging him to just keep down one fuckin’ job for more than a few months.

He said nothing in response, but it hurt. It hurt, knowing she was right. That he was fucking broken.

So, John just left. Took all of his few belongings, the rest of his money, and hopped on the nearest train.

After a couple of weeks, he arrived here, to this random city in the middle of nowhere. Without enough money to get onto the next train, he stayed, stuck. At least the food was cheap, and he found a nice enough motel to stay in.

As he swallows another mouthful of Bourbon, he distantly thinks perhaps it’s not the best use of money, especially when he’s not even really enjoying it, when a gunshot pierces through the air. The entire bar was silenced, everyone holding their breaths.

And it all went straight to hell from there.

Glass shattered as stray bullets hit the building, people screamed as they ran inside for cover, the wails and cries deafening as they mix.

John’s heart was beating so fast he felt like it’s going to explode, and he realized he’s not a soldier anymore. His body, his mind, didn’t feel a comforting familiarity in the crackling gunshots, in the perfected chaos of war.

No, John was terrified. 

The gunshots drew closer, and John spotted a back exit, dashing towards it, pulling the bartender with him.

“This way!” he shouted behind him, and not a moment later the body in his arm fell, the large man taking John down with him.

His head bounced off the ground harshly, his nose radiating pain across his face. John grunted and took hold of the man crushing him, turning him over to see red blooming over his chest, eyes lifeless and dull as they roll around his skull aimlessly.

John stilled, staring at the eyes, unbelieving. His mind was racing, questions muddling his senses, loudest of them all is “how is this real?!”.

His mind quieted when he heard boots crush broken glass, a radio buzzing with unintelligible commands. John only caught bits and pieces, his heartbeat so loud in his ears he couldn’t catch more than “Kill everyone.”

The body of the bartender was still warm, sticky heat travelling down his hands, soiling them.

This would be the last time he would feel warmth.

John wishes he could speak the kids’ language, tell them how brave they are. The older sister kept talking to her little brother, the toddler sniffing occasionally.

He gave them his jacket a while back, the two of them small enough to both fit under it. As the night grew darker, the cold settled in, and John would be shivering from it if the adrenaline wasn’t already making him tremble.

They luckily haven’t encountered any soldiers, their path devoid of any life. John steered them towards the outskirts, where he first arrived to the city. He’s hoping there would be someone to take them there, either by car or train.

And if everyone else is dead… John hopes he still remembers how to hot-wire a car.

His thoughts are interrupted by the little toddler’s squealing, pointing ahead to something off in the distance. John swiveled his head to see a silhouette of a person, and instantly pulled the children off to a nearby house.

John feels the older sister tugging on his hand, trying to get out and into the open, “stay here, kid!” he whisper-shouts, but the child insists, pointing at the person and saying “they good. Know.” 

John peaks out to look at the person, who is now searching around, lowly calling out two names.

“You’re Maria and Victor?” he asks the kids, and they nod, expression lighting up. He sighs in relief - they’re more lucky than he thought.

He lets the sister, Maria, drag him over to the searching man. She called out, and they ran over to hug each other, the man crying and repeating the same phrase over and over. John stood off to the side, a small smile on his face. 

He’s not being a hero, but actually saving someone feels good.

Maria points at him, speaking quickly in her mother tongue. The man stared him up and down, and rose to shake his hand. “I don’t know how to speak good enough to thank you.” he says slowly.

John shakes his head, “don’t worry ‘bout that. Do you have a way out of here? A car?”

The man nods, retracting his hand to hold onto the two siblings, “car yes, train not working anymore. You?”

“I have nothing. You mind if I join you?”

The man waves his hand, “follow me.”

Relief fills his lungs, and John finally feels his heart slowing. Tiredness washes over him, but he knows this is no time to rest. Just a little longer.

The cruel crunch of a boot makes the group freeze. A soldier walks ahead of them, rifle in his hand, barrel searching for more victims to murder. John pulls the man and the siblings behind him, lifting a finger to his lips to quiet them.

For a moment, he considers waiting the soldier out, letting him pass and sneaking around, but John knows better. Leaving a hostile at their backs is a death wish.

He takes a step forward, but the man stops him, eyes frightful and questioning. John takes the hand on his bicep and pulls it off of him slowly, and tried to convey with his eyes that it’s okay. The man lets him go, nodding and pulling the children away, shielding them from the fight to come. Whether he thinks John will win or not, is unclear.

The soldier is currently searching a house in front of them, flashlight shining through the darkened windows. John drops to a crouch, making his way slowly towards him.

There’s a knife strapped loosely to his thigh. Perfect.

He holds his breath as he reaches for the blade, the soldier turning his rifle from side to side.

His fingers wrap around the hilt just as the soldier starts turning.

“What-” He hears the soldier mutter, and John instantly strikes.

The knife slides perfectly into the soldier’s side, in between the tacvest’s plates. The sharp edge cuts through muscle and fat like butter, and John easily pulls it back out, dropping low to dodge the butt-end of the rifle heading for him.

The soldier snarls, and tried to take aim, but John disarms him swiftly, slicing the veins of his wrists, making the gun fly off to the side and clatter to the paved ground.

The soldier’s eyes, furious, glare at his as he slams the knife into his exposed neck.

The life fades from them as John twists the blade, letting the body fall to the ground, dead.

John is left standing, eyes staring at his reflection in the window. The man standing in front of him was bloodied, roughened, and fucking deranged.

He turns to look at the gun, the raindrops softly pattering on its metallic black body. John breathes heavily as he takes a wobbly step towards it.

The rifle, a Kastov-762, is one he knows well. He knows the way the mag clicks in when you reload it, the sound of the bullet travelling to the chamber, the way the air splits before the bullet as it’s being shot.

He knows the damage it can do to a person. He has felt it on his own flesh.

John could leave it. He could walk away, run off with the man and the children. He could turn his back to all of this suffering, like a civilian would.

He could decide, for once, not to try and be a hero.

When John drops to his knees, it’s as if the rest of the world holds its breath. As he drags fingers over metal and steel, he brushes off the dust that settled over his past self.

As he lifts the gun, checking the mag to see the shiny bullets, the man that rises is not John. He’s not the broken veteran, the unemployed asshole, the adrenaline junkie that can never find his fix.

Soap rises to his feet, rifle slung over his shoulder, eyes calculating over his surroundings. He walks over to the man, back straight, heart calm and collected.

“Follow me”, he orders, gun at the ready. The man flicks his stare between the dead soldier, the gun, and him. He walks out of the shadows, covering the children’s eyes.

Soap notices the radio crackle to life, hearing “-do you copy?!”. He takes it and crushes it under his boot. Putting a hand on the man’s shoulder, he growls, “more are coming, we need to move.”

He takes the man into one of the narrow alleys, hearing a commotion behind him as soldiers find the body. They almost reach the parked vehicles by the train station when they run into several soldiers.

The two groups lock eyes for a moment, before Soap and the rest are being shot at. He forces the others behind a wall, the children crying as the man hugs them tight, and Soap readies his gun.

He breathes. In for 5 seconds, hold for 5, release.

Soap sharply rounds the corner, silent footsteps run behind their attackers.

In for 5, hold for 5, release.

The soldiers are slowly closing in on the corner hiding the man and kids. Soap takes aim…

In for 5…

Hold for 5…

Release.

He shoots, taking down the hostiles with 5 perfect headshots.

He jumps down from his vantage point, scanning the streets around them for backup. Soap clears them and returns to the civilians, the man trying to calm the children to no avail.

“We’re clear, where’s yer car?” Soap gently pushes the man out when his feet linger. The man stares wide-eyed at the bodies before steeling his gaze and pointing to a blue truck, “there.”

Soap and the man walk to it, the area blessedly clear. The man places the children down as he unlocks the vehicle, the little kids instantly grasping at soap’s pant leg.

“Yer alright now, loves. Yer going to be safe soon.” he brushes the hair off their foreheads, their little bodies trembling from the cold and fear.

The man opens the doors and herds the kids in, taking a blanket from the back and wrapping them tightly. He closes the door and motions Soap to go around to the passenger sit, but he shakes his head.

The man’s brows furrow, “you not coming?”

“No.” he looks back to the city, “I need to help the rest, if anyone else is alive there.”

The man pauses, “you… you die. They kill you.” he stresses. “Come with me.”

Soap looks back at him, and smiles. “I can’t. Sorry.”

The man sighs, dragging a hand over his weary face. When the hand drops, he gives Soap a kind, yet sad smile.

The man reaches to shake his hand, “Mihail.” he says.

“Soap.” 

The man squeezed his hand, “good luck.”, and lets go to get into the driver’s sit.

Soap watches the truck drive off into the inky night, letting out a breath.

It should scare him, how easily he let his only escape slip between his fingers like water.

But he is calm, for the first time since he was discharged, he feels in control. The blood on his hands lingers, he is in his rightful place.

To the blood and devastation, Soap walks back, his heart beats a single goal.

His mission, save civilians, take down hostiles. As it always was, as it always should be.

Soap may never be a hero, but he will damn well try.

He is nothing otherwise.

[ditch-lily]

hello my dear! as i was falling asleep last night i thought about your oceans 8 kimchay au again and then this thing popped out of me as soon as i woke up:

Kim surveys the gallery with a nonchalant air. "So what exactly am I stealing?" 

"My heart," mumbles Chay.

"What?"

"What?" Chay looks at her audio controls, and sure enough, her mic is on. 

Shit. 

"Uhh, art. I said art."

"Okay," laughs Kim. "I deserved that. But seriously, Chay, what art am I stealing?" 

Chay eyes Kim's image on the security footage. Even on the grainy screen she looks better than everything else in the room.

"It's that sculpture 45 degrees to your right."

"This hideous thing?"

"Well, it's worth 2.4 million USD."

Chay can hear the scowl in Kim's next words, "Why do rich people have such bad taste?"

"P'Kim, aren't you rich too?"

Kim's laugh sets Chay's ears on fire. "Okay, to be fair, most of my life consists of choices made in bad taste. And the rest… well there's more than one way to bad, isn't there, Chay?"

"Can you two please stop flirting on the channel? I don't want to hear this."

"Je!" Chay nearly screams into her mic, but she manages to rein it down to an outraged whisper at the last minute. "As if this is as bad as the time we walked in on you and Kinn having sex on the couch?"

"It's not my fault you barged in," whines Porsche.

"It was in the living room? In a shared space?? In the middle of the afternoon???" Chay feels nauseous just thinking about it. She hasn't so much as looked at that couch, never mind sit in it, since The Incident.

Chay can see Kim nodding on the screen, as if she's contemplating one of the paintings on the wall. "She's right, Porsche. One of these days I'm going to burn that couch."

That of course spurs Kinn to open her big mouth. "We'll just have sex on the new couch."

"Oh, fuck you," says Kim.

"Yes, I will," says Porsche.

"I quit. Can I quit? I suddenly don't want to be here. Chay, meet me at the coffee shop around the corner. Kinn, Porsche, the two of you can steal this shitty trinket yourselves. I don't need a cut of the 2.4 million. This isn't worth it." 

Kim's mic feed goes dead and Chay tracks her annoyed power walk through the various camera feeds.

Hell yeah! Chay fist bumps in celebration. A date with Kim is worth way more than 2.4 million.  

---

i hope you think about this kimchay oceans 8 universe so much that you'll write it once idolistic is done okay ilu bye 😇

SOBBING YELLING THROWING UP!!!!! what a beautiful gift to grace my inbox this morning!! i'm so full of emotions ahhhhhhhh

Kim surveys the gallery with a nonchalant air. "So what exactly am I stealing?" 

"My heart," mumbles Chay.

"What?"

"What?" Chay looks at her audio controls, and sure enough, her mic is on. 

THIS BIT!!! THIS BIT STOLE MY HEART it's perfect thank you. love these pda siblings (poor chay, poor kim, porsche and kinn listening to them flirt is what they deserve) and ahhh chay getting a date with her girl!! chay's little fist bump 🥺

now they're gonna have a cute little coffee date with kim (in her incognito casing a joint clothes?) which is like a very gay leather jacket and ripped jeans, big boots. grunge art school student style. while chay just beams at her with big eyes and holds her hand. kim orders her everything on the menu

also repeat this in the future. kim dressed up fancy fancy (cape, we all know which one) abandoning some gala job to hole up in a late night take out joint, ethereally pretty and jewellery sparkling in the dingy decor while chay sits across from her, smiling adoringly. that's her girl!! chay proceeds to order her everything on the menu

[redbelles]

5, 18, 69, and 76 for the fic writer meme!

5. how many wips do you have? what fandoms/pairings are they for?

yeah i've got wips

kidding! (mostly! not really. but only kind of. it's fine!)

i have just. so many fucking wips. don't wanna talk about how many i have because it's embarrassing, actually! this is absolutely because i consider anything i've written words for/thought about for more than a hot minute a """wip""" but that's a me problem, so here, have semi-comprehensive list of wips i'm determined to finish this year:

the chimneys hardly ever fall down masters of the air; post-war john/gale/marge

gonna stand here in the ache the punisher; post-season one frank/karen

our hands are cold, the moon sets low asoiaf/got; post-season eight jon/sansa

butchered tongue still singing berserk; post-canon guts/casca

something in the night gilmore girls; keg max!au jess/rory

don't you hear me howling, babe? shadow & bone; season one canon divergence darklina au

the second hand unwinds (time after time) stranger things; post-season four hellcheer au

and then, for fun, some wips that aren't top priority atm:

prophetic perfect tense dune; always a girl!paul atreides au

i've walked for miles top gun; post-canon icemav road trip au

more than kin and less than kind hotd; rhaenys flambés the greens at aegon's coronation au

the knife i turn inside myself dune; irulan/feyd post-kanly hatefucking + marriage of convenience au

18. do you enjoy research? which fic of yours required the most research?

yeah! i'm a nerd at heart and also i have a burning need to be canon-compliant with both canon and reality, so i love getting into the research weeds when i'm all in on a fic!

the most """research""" i've done for a fic was, astonishingly, for the fucking,,,,, robert baratheon story (that started life as, and i cannot stress this enough, a joke). i spent so many hours on a wiki of ice and fire i'm pretty sure i made up at least 40% of the site's traffic during the calendar year time it took me to write the damn thing. extremely normal behavior!

anyway! i'm actually in the opposite situation with chimneys, which is super weird. i know a staggering amount of information about the post-wwii usaaf/usaf, and i have to actively stop myself from a) infodumping about things like the development of the american bomber fleet and b) trying to make the timeline accurate, because the entire premise of the fic relies on me Ignoring what was actually going on. anti-research. insane! everyone pour one out for @sluttyhenley— she's spent the last two months taking one for the team and letting me rant at her about curtis lemay so i can get it out of my system and spare everyone who's there for porn instead of a dissertation on strategic bombing doctrine <3

69. what are your favorite fics at the moment?

first of all: nice 😏

second: i feel like i've blathered enough about my own fic today that i'm gonna take this as a question about what i've been enjoying as a reader, so! some recs!

moon's low (can't say no) by @meyerlansky delicious introspective curt pov that nuances an already insanely interesting scene! love this for me! in related news, i am barking and frothing at the mouth as i wait patiently for the follow up to dancing cheek to cheek (to cheek)! tumblr user meyerlansky comin' in hot with THEE definitive curt biddick voice!

never saw the sun shining so bright by @sluttyhenley absolutely shrieking about this series! marge deserves the world! and also both of the buck(y)s! good for her.jpeg! i'm lucky enough to be getting snippets of this as m writes it, and i cannot wait for the next few installments to go live

careful fear and dead devotion by @everyangel another john/gale/marge series i'm currently losing my mind over! the marge voice is so delicious, and i love the pre-war angle that underpins the first fic! cannot wait for more!

enter night by @rhaegang monsterfuckers and barry keoghan enthusiasts rejoice! the writing is top notch, the sex is blisteringly hot, and the tension and pacing are superb. rhaegang truly never misses

nothing safe is worth the drive (follow you home) by @yoursummerfrost i never really had a buffy phase, but i came across this fic the other day and boy howdy does it have me by the throat. deeply emotional, very sexy, and written with so much love it's got me thinking about giving the series more than a cursory "well, it was on when i was home sick from school way back when" watch. also! i've devoured every buffy fic they've written since i found this one and i'm happy to report that they're all incredible!

76. how do you deal with writing pressure, whether internal or external?

mature answer: i try to take a step back and remind myself that this is a hobby i am doing for fun and for free and i should calm the fuck down about it

follow up answer: and if that doesn't work, i whine ceaselessly at my writing buddies until i'm over it

send me some fic writing asks!

[fandomanimatic-tournament]

Fandom song animatic tournament: Bracket 2 Side A Round 2

You're Gonna Go Far, Kid - The Offspring

"With a thousand lies and a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives"

Dr Sunshine is Dead - Will Wood and the Tapeworms

"I am not the sunshine, I am not the moon at night Well, who else could I be when I can hardly see? I am not the sunshine, I am not the moon at night I'm no one if I'm nowhere in between"

Remember that we're voting on how Iconic they are for ANIMATICS, not for the song itself. In order to make things fair, the tone and mood of the song should not affect how iconic it is (for example, a serious song should not be considered more iconic than a joke song just because it's serious)

Propaganda and animatic links of the songs under the cut:

You're Gonna Go Far, Kid - The Offspring

Propaganda:

sorry I can't write propaganda pieces but fuck I loved that song growing up, I'd see it in a ton of Undertale fan animations (often made in Flipnote and uploaded through Hatena) and by the gods I loved it like it was my own son.

My mom found a nightcore MLP AMV with this song and didn't realized there was swearing in it when she showed me. Anyway, 2009 edgelords go brr Also that guitar solo is just epic

Animatics with the song:

DSMP

Ace Attorney Klavier Animatic

Trollhunters

South Park

Dr Sunshine is Dead - Will Wood and the Tapeworms

Propaganda:

No Propaganda Submitted

Animatics with the song:

Batman AU Animatic

DSMP

The Glass Scientists

Kirby Viva Piñata AU Animatic

DSMP

Please be cautious and read the title, description and warning cards on the animatic videos if you decide to watch them. If you've got specific triggers I'd recommend even more caution when watching animatics of fandoms you don't know, since sometimes canon-typical themes don't get warnings.

[patchworkgargoyle]

OC Fic: all the words of the dead

So, in between working on my steddie big bang, I've been descending deeper and deeper into brainrot over my OC, Dominik (tag: goth babygirl dom).

Very long story short, we put him into a mafia!au and killed him off and then developed the slowest slow burn romance for him after the fact.

This is the letter he leaves in his will for @steves-strapcollection's OC, Sam. You'll find Sam's letter in response here (please read it, it's so so so good).

Anyway, I'm gonna go cry over them now. Have this totally out of context.

Rating: M || CW: main character death implied

Title from Bad Luck Again - The Rural Alberta Advantage

Hi Sam, my darling.

You know, I thought I’d only ever have one letter to write. When I got old enough to start needing a will, I only had Vinny to write to. I love Lucky and Gia, but Vinny and me… thick as thieves.

Then I come back from my enforced vacation, and suddenly he has a fiance who turns out to be my best friend. Two letters, then. Two people to care about with my whole, shrivelled little heart.

The third and fourth ones are new. Unexpected.

It was a fucking frustration and an honour to teach your daughter, though I wish almost as much as you do, I think, that she and her brother never got within a hundred miles of this world. For their sakes, and for yours. I tried my best to help prepare her. I hope it’s enough. But she's tough as fuck, and she’s got you and those two boys of hers looking out for her, though, so I’m sure she’ll be okay.

She’s the third letter.

This is the midst of the fourth. The last.

I hope that you knew you’d get a letter when the lawyers started handing them out. I hope you didn’t doubt it.  It’s okay if you did.

I’m sorry you’re getting one. I don’t know what happened to me, obviously, but I probably went and fucked up something somewhere and now I’ve paid for it. You know how it is.

I hope you weren’t there when I died. If you were, I’m sorry. So sorry. We spend so much time together now that it might be possible you saw what got me but I don’t want that on your shoulders. They carry too much already. You should put some of that down sometime. Give some of it to me

Don't let Vinny and Ziah waste time and money on a big, useless funeral for me. And try talking to them, if you need someone. I know you. You're not as stoic and unshakable as you'd like us to believe.

This is har    Fuck. I hate this.

I’d say I don’t remember when I knew my feelings for you were more than just being really horny and very fond of you but that’s a fucking lie. It’s been about a year now. I'd so cruelly sent you home for the night, but insisted I walk you to your truck, and we stopped to chat because we can't seem to get enough of each other I'm a greedy motherfucker at heart and didn't want you to go yet. I said something that made you laugh, really laugh. Can’t remember what the fuck I said. All I remember is what your face looks like when you smile like that, what you sound like when you’re happy. I had to kiss you then or I'd do something incredibly stupid otherwise. Also asked you to stay the night for the first time.

You’re one handsome bastard, you know that, right? It’s deeply unfair. You look even better when you're between my thighs.

You’re sleeping in my bedroom while I write this. No one’s ever slept in my bed with me. But you've done it so many times now I lost track. When I’m done with this fucking letter, I’m going to crawl back under the covers with you and feel safe there.

You’re such a surprise, Sam. I never thought I could have something like you. I feel indescribably lucky that I could. We should’ve had a normal life together, but I wouldn’t change this. Never.

There’s something for you, other than the cheque the lawyers’ll hand you. Ziah will know where it is. Don’t take it the wrong way. I wasn’t planning any big surprises. It’s just something to remember me by because I wasn’t sure what else you’d want. You can sell it if you don’t care for it, the sapphire’s worth something at least, small as it is. I told Vinny to let you take anything from my apartment you might want.

It’s cold over here at my desk, I should be in bed with you     gotta write another fucking version of this, christ

I don’t know how to end this. What a fucking mess.

I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you even though I don’t know what it’s like. Never been in love before. But it feels like this, I think, like wanting to be around you all the time. Craving you. Trusting you. Sharing what life we have. Choosing to let you in over and over.

Vulnerability. Being changed.

You don’t have to love me too. I’m not going to fucking guilt trip you into loving me, post-mortem. This is just some kind of re-realisation of mortality based confessional at this point. You won't see this version of the letter anyway. You'll get one with fewer mistakes.

Do you think we have something, at least? Are we something? I hope we are.

I’ll tell you I love you in the morning, if I’m not a coward.

Forgive me if I was.

Yours,

   -Dom

[[READ SAM'S LETTER HERE]]

[peppermintquartz]

Twisted Metal (TV series) AU, pro wrestler kayfabe personas

Violence, fluff, Joestafa (except it's also Sweet Tooth)

Look, it's me. If there's Joe, imma write Joestafa one way or another.

Title to be decided. Tentatively "Under the Mask".

*

Mustafa stops only when he hears the change in sound from the crunch of bone to the sticky-wet slap of flesh. Then he steps back, every joint and muscle aching, and sees what he's done to Agent McFuckface.

With a grunt he slams the hammer in his hand into the dead agent's skull and leaves it there.

As he's catching his breath and trying to work out where to go next, he hears applause behind him. Whirling around, Mustafa sees Death coming towards him.

Well, a huge machete-wielding man in a chest harness and white pants with red dots who's wearing a clown mask that has orange hair sticking out the sides is close to being the embodiment of Death as makes no difference, really.

"That was intense! You looked like you really worked through your issues," the clown says.

Mustafa shrugs. "Some of them."

The clown approaches. If Mustafa were less drained of emotion after beating in the face of the last of his pursuers, he'd be afraid. As it is, he's thinking if the clown will chop his head off immediately or just remove his limbs one by one. Both would suck, except one would suck less.

"Look, man, if you're gonna kill me, I'd appreciate a quick death," Mustafa says.

Despite the mask, the clown looks offended. "Kill you? Why would I do that?"

Mustafa raises an eyebrow and points at the blood-stained machete in the other man's hand.

"Oh, this? Don't worry about it. I am not killing someone who's just put on a passionate and focused performance. It was stunning!" He tilts his head and, through the eyeholes, he winks. "Get it? Stunning?"

Mustafa glances at Agent McShithead. He chuckles. "Yeah. Took his breath right away."

The clown laughs uproariously. "I like you! You're funny!" Suddenly the machete swings through the air, right towards Mustafa's neck.

It stops before the blade breaks skin.

Mustafa glances down, then his gaze follows the weapon all the way along to the massive arm and trails up to the clown's masked face. "That was fucking impressive, man. That control."

"You didn't even flinch." The clown sounds different now, almost serious. "Most people would've flinched. Or screamed. I've heard so much screaming."

"You said you wouldn't kill someone who put on a stunning performance. And you said you like me."

"I could've been lying."

"A guy like you? Nah. You have no need to lie." Mustafa spits on the dead agent. "Fuckers like him and his boss lie."

The clown lowers the machete and tilts his head quizzically. "You sound like you got a story."

"You wanna hear it? I don't wanna bore ya."

"Hmmm. I'm trying to come up with a new play. My previous one was a flop." The clown stares at Mustafa. "Maybe I can use some inspiration..."

Mustafa waits. He has nothing else to do, anyway. He can't go back east to Topeka, take out a sharp implement, and ram it through Agent Stone's head the way he wants to. He remembers the way his mom had looked at where he was hiding just before-

"Alrighty then! How about you come with me to my place, I'll treat you to some white tiger steaks, and you can share all about how you got to the point of beating a man's brains in over a dinner." The clown holds up both hands. "I'm not trying to get in your pants, just so we're clear. I am a gentleman."

"Pity," Mustafa quips, offering a small smile. "Food sounds good. Lead the way."

The clown's voice seems to hold a smile. "By the way, I'm Sweet Tooth."

"Mustafa."

"Like the Lion King?"

"No, that's Mufasa. M-U-S-T-A-F-A. Mustafa."

The clown - Sweet Tooth - tries the name out a couple of times as they walk, and finally gets the right inflection. Then he points to a burnt shell of a hotel, with the word "RAGE" left on the wall. "Home sweet home."

Mustafa stares. Then he shrugs again and sticks his hands in his pockets. "You got a shower in there, Sweet Tooth?"

[yeowangies]

Close Encounter

Chapter l | Chapter ll: Human Emotions | Chapter lll | Chapter lV | Chapter V

❧

PAIRING: Raditz/Reader RATING: T CONTENTS: Little Angst (blink and you miss it), Canon Divergence AU, Romance WORDCOUNT: 4855

Summary:

“So you’re telling that guy- the alien I had sex with, kidnapped his nephew? And tried to kill his own brother?”

“Yes!” Bulma yelled, exasperated because you asked that question several times already.

“And you want ME to help you bring him back to health?!”

Notes:

me: I'm just gonna write a sequel chapter, nothing too complicated me, over 15k words later: goddamnit

So yeah, there's three more chapter after this. I already wrote 90% of the whole story, so I'll update every two or three days.

I read Raditz' scenes in the manga like ten times, trying to somehow analyze his character, even if he is in the story for two minutes. I TRIED to not be a little ooc with him but then again, we never see him outside a battle context so... I tried my best.

I didn't go into detail about Raditz's fight with Goku and Piccolo, but what I imagined happened is inspired by JsCandyHell's Rademption comic, the first chapter. It's public if you're curious, you can look it up on his twitter account.

Raditz woke up on a bed in a room so bright it seemed surreal. 

The next thing he saw was your face, staring right at him.

“Am I dead…?”

You arched an eyebrow, smiling faintly. 

“You’re not dead. Not for lack of trying.” You replied.

He remembered you. That girl who was there when he got to Earth. That girl he fucked almost as soon as he stepped out of his pod. If he wasn’t dead (he knew he wasn’t meant for heaven or anything, but your face was a pleasant sight that left him bewildered), why were you there? 

The vague smile on your face quickly disappeared, and you walked away from him. He scanned the room quickly; it seemed like some kind of medical bay, similar to the ones at homebase, full of machines and screens that seemed connected to him. The next thing he noticed, or rather, felt, was a pain in his torso. He grunted through gritted teeth, and realized he was bandaged all over his upper body. He recoiled instinctively, only making the pain worse.

“Don’t move too much,” You told him with a surprisingly cold voice. “You’re gonna open your wounds.”

Raditz narrowed his eyes at you, still feeling like he was impaled in the stomach quite literally. Your voice sounded different than the last time he heard it. Albeit it was under very different circumstances, but he didn’t understand why you talked to him that way. He didn’t even understand what you were doing there, or where there even was. 

“I’ll have food brought in, I assume you’re hungry.” You said while pressing some numbers on some kind of panel and holding a tube to your ear. 

He looked at you warily. It’s not like he could do much in the state he was in. If you wanted to kill him or something like that, he supposed he wouldn’t be able to fight back, even if you were a mere human.

While you talked to someone through that tube, ordering things to be brought there, Raditz tried to recall what exactly happened. He obviously remembered you, it was impossible not to. He also remembered taking his brother’s son, his nephew, and subsequently fighting Kakarot and that green guy. Everything after that was blurry. 

He groaned, in pain, and because he remembered that that brat, Kakarot’ son, had destroyed his pod. He was stranded on that miserable planet for all he knew, a planet that had such ancient technology, he knew for sure earthlings had not discovered how to travel in space. 

“Woman,” Raditz called you, and you turned to look at him. “What the fuck is going on?”

“You don’t remember?” You asked him with furrowed brows.

“Where is this place?” He saw your face hardened when he ignored your question, but he went on. “And what are you doing here?”

“I happen to be close with one of your brother’s friends. Remember? The brother you tried to kill?”

There was bitterness in your voice. He understood you were offended by his actions but he didn’t really get why, and he didn’t want to bother thinking about it. 

“For some reason, he wanted you to live despite what you did. So we are helping you heal. Everyone else was too afraid of you, and I already knew you, so I was basically left in charge to look after you.” 

He raised an eyebrow. You had some guts for sure. Though he supposed it was the fact that he was too injured to even try to hurt you. He could still taunt you though.

“Do your friends know what we did then?” Raditz smirked. 

You scowled, the tips of your ears getting red. 

“I would have never done that with you if I had known you were-!” You didn’t finish your sentence, and you turned your back to him. 

“‘Were’ what? If I remember correctly, you enjoyed what we did quite a lot, if your screams were enough proof.” He sneered at you, amused by your reaction. “No point in action so righteous now.”

“Having sex and trying to kill your family is not nearly the same thing.” 

He chuckled, and you turned your face to the side to look at him.

“Do you not see anything wrong in what you did?”

“No,” He replied immediately, the smirk never leaving his lips. “I asked my brother to join us. He said he would rather stay here than help us. He is a disgrace to our race.”

Raditz wouldn’t admit it, but he didn’t want to kill his own brother. Not for any sentimental reason, but simply because he was one of the four Saiyans left. It would not have done any good to reduce the race even more. They still needed him nonetheless, but if he wasn’t going to cooperate then he had no other choice. 

Your eyes were bewildered when he answered. 

“I would have never had sex with you if I knew you were a monster.”

He glared at you. Your words stung. Apparently attraction had a moral stipulation on that planet. 

“You still did it, however.”

It was your turn to glare at him. 

Neither of you spoke until the food arrived. 

*

“So you’re telling that guy- the alien I had sex with, kidnapped his nephew? And tried to kill his own brother?”

“Yes!” Bulma yelled, exasperated because you asked that question several times already.

“And you want ME to help you bring him back to health?!”

“Uh… yes.”

“Why?!”

“I think the answer is obvious.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. 

“We fucked, we are not married!”

“I know that, but…” Bulma sighed. You knew she understood perfectly well why you were in disbelief of the whole conversation. “The guy is ruthless. And you actually formed some kind of bond with him.”

“I would barely call that a ‘bond’. And I don’t know how much that would matter to him if he attacked his own brother…”

“Well, Goku did ask us to let him live. Before he died.”

You pursed your lips. That Goku guy must have been something else if he forgave his own brother like that, especially after what he did to his son. Bulma told you he could come back to life once they gathered the ‘Dragon Balls’, some magical wish-granting orbs. You believed her because she had told you stories about it before. 

“I think maybe this guy… would soften with you.” Bulma went on. 

“You’re putting too much faith in me.” You sighed and paused, considering it for a moment. “Fine.”

Bulma pumped her fist in the air at your positive answer. 

“I’m staying at Capsule Corp. until he heals.”

“Yeah, about that. He can’t stay here.”

“What?!”

“I mean, he is staying here! But once he is strong enough to move… I don’t want him around.”

“What the fuck are you telling me? That he is gonna have to stay with me in my house?”

“Yes! I’m so glad you understand!” Bulma smiled cheerfully. 

“Bulma, what the fuck?! You just told me this man is violent and you want me to keep him around, at my place?!”

“I’m sorry! It wouldn’t be any different if he stayed here. I mean, Goku died and Piccolo almost killed him, but without Goku, he wouldn’t be able to do much! So we are all doomed if you can’t somehow mellow this guy out.”

“So that’s your brilliant plan? You want me to influence him somehow?”

“Well yeah.”

How the fuck were you gonna do that? Bulma was insane for suggesting such a thing. It’s not like you were some kind of preacher. What would you even say to Raditz that could possibly change his mind about attacking Earth and all that stuff?

For what you knew, the two other aliens, the Saiyans, were already on their way to Earth, and they will arrive in less than a year. There was no way to put that off. What everyone was worried about is Raditz taking revenge on the damage he took while he was trying to recruit his brother, which would be fairly easy, according to what Bulma told you. That Piccolo guy (the same Piccolo Daimao that threatened to conquer the world some years ago, you remembered that event well from the news and again, from what Bulma had told you since she had been a witness of it all)  was strong but he wouldn’t stand a chance against him. 

And the only reason Raditz was alive was because Goku asked them not to kill him. Because he was strong and he wanted to fight him again.

Bulma’s other friends were strange. 

Compassion wasn’t a bad way to go about things, however. You just doubted if it would affect someone who had done what Raditz did. 

It made shivers run up your spine. Yes, you had sex with the man. It was insanely good. Out-of-this-world good. But after learning everything that had happened, you weren’t so sure about how you felt. You didn’t know if you regretted it or not, despite what you had told Raditz when he woke up. You were angry he didn’t seem to show a pinch of remorse. And if you thought about the fact that there was blood on his hands, your stomach would sink. 

You barely talked to him after that day, too angry and confused to twist your arm and show him any kind of emotion. But the ‘plan’ (if one could even call it a plan) Bulma had wasn’t going to end well if you didn’t get along with him. Since he didn’t seem to show any guilt for his actions, you would have to move around it and take a different approach. Somehow. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked Raditz one morning, as soon as you walked into the medical room he was staying in.

He had recovered pretty fast for someone who had a literal hole in his body, and you figured it was the alien genes that helped him heal. 

Raditz narrowed his eyes on you. You hadn’t really asked him anything in the last couple of weeks, he must have been disoriented, you figured. 

“What do you want?” He asked after a moment of silence.

“What?”

“You haven’t spoken to me unless you had to. Why are you asking me how I feel?”

You blinked, confused.

“I genuinely want to know how you are feeling. Your injuries were pretty bad.”

“Is that a human thing? Asking me how I feel?”

You rubbed your temples, feeling put off by his skepticism. 

“I don’t know. Nevermind.” 

You wanted to turn around and walk out, the awkward silence that followed made you feel stupid since it was your idea to start a conversation. You didn’t leave though, taking a seat across the room where you always sat, near the only window in the room. It was so tiny you could barely see Bulma’s garden from there, but it kept you distracted every time you sat there, especially those last few days, when you got tired of reading through some magazines you brought with you to make the time go faster.

“What made you change your mind?” Raditz asked you, and you turned to look at him.

“What?”

“You seemed pretty angry when I said I didn’t regret what I did.” The tone in his voice was even, and he had a blank expression on his face. “So why are you talking to me now?”

“I’m tired of being angry,” You said genuinely. “We should… try to get along.”

“Why?” He squinted at you.

“Well, you are gonna be here for a while, and I’m looking after you so…”

“I don’t understand.” He practically growled. You probably should have been afraid of him (and maybe deep down you were a little), but something told you he wasn’t going to hurt you. “Why are you even helping me?”

“Your brother told us to let you live. I wasn’t there, but from what I was told, he said something about fighting you again.”

“Is that it? Because Kakarot told you to let me go?”

You were confused for a second until you realized ‘Kakarot’ was Goku. 

“Yeah…” You carefully considered your next words so as not to make him angry. Or angrier. “He was compassionate even after what you did.”

“You humans are disgusting.” Raditz snorted.

Staring at his face, you could tell he wasn’t as infuriated as he seemed. He definitely was surprised though.

“Yeah, well, you are still stuck here with me.” 

He looked at you up and down. As confused as you were about your feelings towards him, you still had to fight your own body so as not to blush under his gaze. 

“I guess I could do worse.” He said.

“Gee, thanks.”

“And I would hate it if our thing got ruined because of a tiny mistake.” He smirked at you.

“A tiny mistake? Our thing?!” You really couldn’t help flushing by then.

“I did say I was going to come to you. Seems like I didn’t even have to do that since you are here on your own accord.”

“I- It’s not- No!” You balked. 

He laughed mockingly and you glared at him. 

*

“You’re gonna be staying at my place from now on, so be careful! I don’t want you breaking anything.” You told Raditz once you arrived at your house. 

It wasn’t big, but it was enough for you. With Raditz staying there now, you were worried it was a little cramped. 

“Yeah, you already told me that.” He rolled his eyes, looking around curiously.

The living room and kitchen were spacious, and so was the bathroom. Your bedroom and the extra room weren’t as wide, but you managed to have a queen size bed for yourself. The extra room had a single bed, and you were considering sleeping there and offering him your own bed since he was so big. 

Raditz still had to change the bandages on his torso, but he could move around by then. You still had to learn how to properly bind him up on your own. Any human would get an infection easily if you didn’t know how to do it right, but witnessing how fast Raditz had healed, you doubt he would even be affected by the things humans were weak to. 

“I’ll start dinner. You can hang around here or you can even go outside if you want, just don’t go too far.” You paused, eyes widening. “Wait, no, don’t go outside.”

“What, think I’ll run away?” He chuckled, and you gulped, facepalming yourself in your head. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me, is there?”

“Well you haven’t tried my cooking yet! I wouldn’t leave without a proper meal.” 

It was a stupid way to convince him if he truly wanted to leave, but there was really nothing you could do, or anyone else for that matter, except persuade him with words. 

But the way he was looking at you reminded you of how he stared at you the moment you met. 

“You’re right, I could eat something.” 

He sat down by the kitchen table the entire time you were cooking. You could feel his eyes on you the whole time; it made you feel incredibly self-conscious, especially since you had your back to him most of the time. It was silly you felt that way after everything that had happened between you two, but you still weren’t sure about how you felt about him. Or more like you weren’t sure you accepted how you felt.

At least physically, you were still attracted to him. You saw him shirtless a bunch of times ever since you met him, and you still let your eyes roam over his body. His muscles were impressive to say the least. And he was just so big. You were too weak for his looks, which was literally why you were in that situation in the first place. If only you had a little self-control. 

His stares never went beyond that the first few days. Raditz never tried anything, and only roamed around the house or in the yard, where you watched him work out, doing things that he shouldn’t be doing in his condition. Yet when you went to change his bandages, he was healing just fine. You were amazed, he would probably be completely healed in four or five months at most. And considering how he was close to dying, you simply couldn’t believe it.

It was then, when you were almost done binding him up, that his eyes lingered on you long enough for you to be bothered by them. You could feel him staring intensely at you at random moments during the day, but when you were so close to him, it affected you, even your hands started shaking.

“Stop staring at me!” You told him a week after you had both moved back to your place. 

You were getting tired of his lingering gaze, especially when you were holding scissors in your hands, ready to get rid of his old bandages. He was sitting on the couch next to you, your knees touching one of his thighs, as he remained as still as possible while you tried to do the simple work of helping him recover. Which was hard to do when he would not stop staring at you. 

“You keep looking at me ever since we got here, why?”

“Are you still upset?” Raditz asked you with an emotionless voice.

“Huh?”

“With me, are you still upset?”

You were taken aback as you stared right back at him. You couldn’t read him at all. But you knew he was referring to your first conversation when you practically told him you regretted ever meeting him. 

“‘Upset’ is not the right word.” You finally said after some time.

“What is it then?”

You fidgeted and remained silent. You were confused and reluctant to accept that you still found him attractive. Especially after spending so much time with him. 

Raditz was actually nice to have around, which was confusing. Though most of your conversations were superficial, he teased you and you could give back as much as you got (most of the time, if he didn’t say anything that would make you blush). But you never asked him about anything regarding his life prior to what happened once he got here. And he never questioned you about your own either. 

When you felt one of his hands on your thigh, you flinched. When he slid his fingers upwards, you grabbed his wrist instantly to stop him. 

You knew he could keep going if he wanted to. While you weren’t afraid of him anymore, you were still aware of the fact that Raditz could overpower you if he so wished. So you were surprised when he didn’t yank off your hand, but he pulled away from you altogether instead. 

“Sorry…” You murmured after a while, resuming your work on his bandages once more.

Raditz ran one of his hands through his hair, visibly a little nervous. 

“You don’t have to apologize.”

The silence that followed afterwards was awkward, and he avoided your eyes for the rest of the day.

*

Raditz didn’t understand you. He didn’t understand humans. 

He knew you were upset (you said that wasn’t the right word, but you didn’t offer any other variant) about what he had done, but he still didn’t understand why. His actions did not affect you directly. 

The more time he spent in your house, he began to see that family was important to Earthlings, or at least to you it was. You had a picture of your mother and father in the living room, he didn’t ask you about them but he knew because they simply looked so much like you. He overheard you on the phone one day too, talking to your mother and even telling her you loved her.

There was this big device called TV that you would watch sometimes that also gave him an insight of how humans lived and worked. Apparently other people’s actions affected them when they were close to one another. 

Raditz remembered his parents very well. His mother and father were not exactly normal compared to other Saiyan. For once, they seemed to hold a lot of affection for each other. They also cared for him and Kakarot. Other Saiyan parents didn’t exactly mistreat their children, but once in the incubators, they would simply leave them to go on a mission, not seeing them for years even. 

After planet Vegeta was destroyed, he only had Nappa and Vegeta. Nappa told him that most Saiyans didn’t stay together after mating, and sex was a common thing among allies, not necessarily intended for reproduction. Vegeta, being royalty and proud as heck about it, was more reserved, so he almost never commented on that matter. 

He grew up like that, and since there weren’t any females to hang around with for a long time, he just fucked for fun. Which, he learnt, was also what most males did in the Frieza army. Women were scarce there, so fucking random females in far away planets was actually a common occurrence. He never formed any kind of bond with anyone. And if he thought about it, neither Nappa nor Vegeta were exactly close to him. 

He heard them say they wouldn’t wish him back to life when he was dying after the fight with Kakarot and that other guy. And he was infuriated, but he didn’t know exactly what to do about it. There was actually nothing he could do about it in his condition to begin with either.

Humans were the opposite of how he was raised. But not the opposite of how his parents used to be. He remembered his father hugging his mother when he arrived home from a mission, even kissing her like he missed her. For what the TV had shown him, humans did that too. And while casual sex was also a thing on Earth, most of those movies, or whatever they were called, made it seem more important than what it appeared to be.

You had told him not to take anything he saw on TV ‘too seriously’. So he was confused. But he wanted to understand. Mostly so he could understand you. 

Even though it had been a while since you two had sex, Raditz still wanted you. He wanted to taste you again, to have you again. It was making it difficult to see you every single day; he had to watch you in the morning, when you tried to look somehow put together but he could see that your hair was out of place and your eyes were a little puffy, and he had to see you after you took a shower, walking to your room in just a towel, and it was killing him because he could simply smell you all the time, and everywhere on that house. But he could not touch you because your demeanor showed that you didn’t feel the same way. And he wanted to know and understand why. 

“That woman said she only wanted casual sex, but now she is crying. Why?”

It was a rare occasion that Raditz sat down with you when you chose to watch a movie. You didn’t exactly invite him to join, but he did anyway. 

A man and a woman met and agreed to just fuck. And now she was going back to her hometown and she was upset about not seeing that man again. But they had an arrangement that it was only sex. He didn’t get it, what changed?

“She is in love with him, she doesn’t want to leave.”

“In love?” 

“Yeah,” You eyed him curiously. “You know, like feelings? She cares about him and she grew to like him.”

“Wasn’t it just a fuck?”

You laughed, which startled him.

“That sometimes works, but sometimes it doesn’t. People who sleep together regularly usually grow to like each other. Even if they end up just liking each other as friends.”

“Weird…” Raditz squinted his eyes, thinking.

“What do you mean?” You giggled, obviously amused at the fact that he didn’t get human emotions. 

He debated internally whether or not to tell you what his first impression of that planet had been. He didn’t see anything wrong with sharing, so he spoke.

“When you offered yourself to me when we met, I assumed this planet was all about easy sex.”

“W- What?” 

Raditz noticed your surprise, but he went on.

“I’m not used to women being so loose. So I figured humans must fuck on a daily basis with just anyone. Didn’t consider anything like what you just said.”

He noticed your face getting slightly red, though not out of embarrassment. 

“Are you calling me a slut?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You used the words ‘easy’ and ‘loose’ in two sentences. Are you saying I have sex with just anyone I meet?”

He wasn’t sure exactly what had offended you, but he knew you were angry for whatever reason. He frowned, considering his words carefully.

“...No? Not exactly?”

“Then what do you mean?!”

“What I said! Humans seem highly hedonistic and simple, I suppose that’s why you never evolve past the power level of a fly.” He noticed your glare, but he snorted, amused. “It’s not everyday that I arrive on a planet and a female throws herself at me. I’m pretty sure Nappa and even Vegeta were surprised.”

“Who?”

“The Saiyans that are coming here.”

“Wait, ‘were surprised’? How would they even know about what we did?”

“The scouter.” He said, signaling to the side of his face where his scouter used to be when he arrived. “I’m sure you remember I was talking to someone through it.”

“Yeah, but what does that-”

“They were on the other side of the line, they probably heard everything.”

Your eyes opened wide, and you stared at him for a minute before talking again.

“W-what? You mean to tell me they listened to us… having sex?”

“Obviously.” He replied, unaware of the things going through your head, though he did notice your cheeks slowly flushing. “I don’t know about Vegeta, he seems like more of a prude, but I’m sure Nappa heard everything.”

Your entire face turned red up to the tip of your ears in an instant, and Raditz looked at you with one eyebrow raised. You were embarrassed now, but about what?

“I- They heard… everything?”

“Yes?”

“And you’re not bothered by that?!”

“Why would I be?” He shrugged, aloof. “I spent most of my life with them, we all have seen everything by now.”

You didn’t reply for a while, but the color on your face didn’t go away. Raditz looked at you for a minute, studying your expression, but when you didn’t talk anymore, he assumed the conversation was over. Until you spoke again. 

“You… you let them hear me say all those things I said and you didn’t tell me!”

He looked at you as you stood up and grabbed him by his shirt. 

“Get the hell out!”

“Woman, what the fuck are you doing?!”

Your grip on his shirt could probably rip the fabric, but it was nothing compared to his strength. Raditz still let you drag him towards the entrance, out of morbid curiosity. 

Opening the front door, you dragged him almost all the way out the threshold, finally pushing him in the chest.

“Get out! Now!” He opened his mouth to yell right back at you, but you didn’t give him time. “I said GET OUT!”

Raditz couldn’t believe you had actually pushed him hard enough to make him fall back onto the ground. He wasn’t exactly prepared for any kind of confrontation, so his guard was down. But he was still startled, and he stared at you with eyes wide open as you slammed the door shut in his face.

You had actually successfully thrown him out. With just your hands.

That was the wrong time to have an erection, but he couldn’t control it. 

That look in your eyes, the way you grabbed him and pushed him, like you weren’t even afraid of him (which you probably weren’t anymore after all the time you two spent together). It was arousing.  

However, he was still annoyed that you pushed him out like that. He was still trying to understand some things regarding human emotions, and when he asked, you got angry, and not only did you manage to turn him on, but also irritate him in less than a minute after that. He was confused, horny and annoyed all in one minute, and because of you.

For once, he wished his brother wasn’t dead. Kakarot was married to a human woman, the mother of his child. Maybe he would know what to do. He would have to figure this out on his own. 

Raditz cursed under his breath, standing up and rearranging his pants to best accommodate his hard-on before walking away.

[fixfoxnox]

Also let me scream into the creative writing Void

THE GHOST’S DEAD FIANCE???

Chef kisses, left no crumbs

I love how you are defying the past! GhostRoach and dead fiance! Roach rule by twisting it up making them establish and alive all while soap is like “i need to have them both carnally” FUCK YOUR PAST! GHOSTROACH

(Not a request btw) Although I also wanna read a dead fiance! Soap because I think that’ll be hilarious in a “how does that make you feel GhostSoap shipper with Past! GhostRoach hmmm? How you like them apples??” But like i need them to have a good communication and instead of roach being hurt that he cant have ghost its more of Roach helping Ghost to heal in a healthy way that makes them have a good relationship from the start and then them establishing a healthy relationship later too

I was also laughing so hard when Roach asked Ghost if he’s been telling everyone he died, bro was about to break off the wedding (I also love how u made them fiances here my roachghost heart healed a little) its giving “i can still hear his voice” “quit telling everybody I’m dead”

I do have a question though, is roach also military in this? Or is he retired or have a different job?

MONSTER AU

When your boyfriends are fast food ❤️

ASDSFHDKDLFL I AM in love with Monsterfucker, I will eat it up everytime especially if its love between different monsters?? Slurping that bitch up like its soup

Also i need to yell about the fact that Ghost is a Vamp-Demon hybrid here?!!! And that he scares people but then Roach meets him for the first time and he fully wants Ghost and Soap goes along with him💀💀💀 me too roach, me too, its giving, you should be more scared of the person holding the leash than the dog itself (im sorry I had to) like imagine living out your whole life and people are scared of u even tall behemoth of men, but then this small funky mousy haired guy just looks at you with so much lust?? Ghost I would fold ngl

STREAMER/CAMBOY

I know u haven’t written this yet but Im going to yell about this anyways because this has got to be my fav AU, i really just love streamer love stories despite the whole reborn not being canon that was still a hilarious take, Ghost would make so many “in my days” joke every time someone tries too hard in a game

And I absolutely am stealing this from real people’s experience; but what if Ghost is a faceless streamer and when he just started getting to know Roach, trying to flirt with him, he face reveals in front of Roach while roach is streaming and roach is just speechless and going redder by the second all while his chat is going insane

Im gonna go to my corner now and buzz around while i brain rot

Ahhhhh!!!

On Ghosts Dead Fiance:

I just love when Soap see's Ghost and Roach and is just immediately in love (especially with Roach) its my favorite dynamic ever and I think he's just enough of a himbo for that to happen sjdjdjdj

I would still like to eventually do a flipping it on its head in the method of killing off Soap version, but we probably won't get that until I get enraged by dead Roach content again ahsh

And I'm 100% going to make them more healthy than any of the SoapGhost fics but I'm also gonna throw in a line like "because of you I forget that I was ever even in love with Soap" just to pass people off because I'm evil like that

Then in the comments I'll hit 'em with "wow guys, Soap sent Roach for Ghost guys 🥺 he knew that he was better for him"

Also Roach is meant to be retired in the story, hence why Ghost has one of his dog tags. Since Roach wasn't going to be out in the field anymore (personal choice he made because he was tired, and he works CIA now with aunt Laswell) he decided to give Ghost one of his tags so he would "always have a piece of me with you"

On Monster AU:

*scary powerful monster walks in the room*

Roach, immediately: I'll just take that, thank you very much *seduces him*

Roach and Soap and even Ghost in this Au are definitely the be more scared of the person holding the leash than the dog itself thing. Roach has these two men wrapped around his finger dude and he's so good at playing innocent here

I think I mentioned but his whole thing is like seducing people while making them think that they're seducing him. He just chooses his partners though and gets Soap to growl at any unwanted people (most people) while he enjoys his two hot fellow monster boyfriends 😌

Also love making Ghost panic and run out of the room like a bat outta hell because he knows if he stays he will absolutely end up sleeping with these two members of his team who he's not even properly met yet. Poor guy is in for it though cause Roach isn't going to let him get away that easily

On Camboy/Streamer AU:

LISTEN I THINK ME AND YOU MAY BE THE ONLY TWO EXCITED FOR THIS AU BUT IM SO GLAD SOMEINE ELSE LIKES IT AS MUCH AS ME

IM GENUINELY SO EXCITED TO WRITE IT SKSKKDJDJ

If I didn't have to write part of an essay today I would be drafting up part of it right now because ACK

JUST THESE BOYS BEING IN LOVE AND SLOWLY GETTING PUSHED TOGETHER AND AHHH I LOVE THE IDEA OF GHOST BEING A FACELESS STREAMER WHO DOES A FACE REVEAL FOR ROACH WHILE ROACH IS ON SCREEN

I just know they'd have a shit ton of fanfics written about them

Also on the line of if this Ghost was reborn Ghost I've been thinking about that more and like...streamer AU's Gaz and Soap being his gaming buddies (Price is Gaz's controversially older boyfriend who hangs out with them on stream occasionally)

And I can just see people shipping Ghost and Soap from the streams and someone is like "Are you two dating" and Soap just playfully drops "No, Ghost is whipped for another streamer, take your bets on who"

And it starts a whole big thing and when, eventually, Ghost and the squad start streaming with Roach everyone just knows that this is the guy that he's whipped for

LISTEN I MAY HAVE TO DO AN AU OF THE AU FOR THIS SJDJJDJD YOUR MIND DUDE, YOUR MIND

[terrainofheartfelt]

📓📓📓

does 3 emojis mean 3 answers??? well, give a mouse a cookie....give a liz a prompt....

okay 1: another jenate fic idea the death of WVDB. nate's grandfather passes, and so he's called back to NY for the funeral. it's basically jenny being nate's rock through vbd family nonsense, because nate knows what he wants and the kind of person he wants to be and that does not compute with anne and his grandmother. like, there's a will reading, and nate ends up being promised a huge sum BUT with stipulations, like, there's funding to set up his own nonprofit as well as set him up comfortably -- but only if he's married. and he's like "fuck that" and walks away from it. another nuggets I've thought about over this idea: dair being Old Marrieds; blair still being favored by lots of vdbs but like anytime she interacts with any of them she's like "have you met my husband Dan???"; jenny & blair playing Nate's self-appointed emotional guardians; jenny being so glamorous and put together that all the vbds are like "whaaaa?"; and there's actually a couple cousins nate keeps in touch with and they LOVE her. oh, and nate joking that he doesn't need his grandfather's will because "Jen's gonna be richer than me in 5 years anyway"

2: a big little lies au!!!! okay so like, jenny is shailene woodley, blair is nicole kidman, serena is reese witherspoon, vanessa is zoe kravitz. kinda want serena and vanessa to just be wives and drop that jealousy subplot idk. and blair is locked in her abusive marriage with chip wiskers, and she thinks she's keeping it hidden from her son henry, but he starts first grade bullying a kid in his class, but jenny's son gets blamed for it, since they just moved to town. (who would be laura dern tho?! penelope?) serena adopts jenny as her new best friend, and so her best friend blair does by proxy (lady friendships!!!!) and all the tension comes to a head when it's revealed that jenny's assaulter is blair's husband, a fight breaks out, and chuck ends up dead at the bottom of the stairs. and all the women band together in solidarity (lady friendships!!!!) oh and jenny and blair heal fall in love and raise their boys together <333 maybe they open a boutique together. the challenge with doing anything with the humphrey sibs Going Through Some Shit, is: where the hell is the other one??? my answer for this au is that Dan is living his Happily Ever After with his son Milo and his husband Nate and they all fret over Jenny from a distance, because she wants to make her own way, dammit.

and 3: a pop musician's au. born entirely out of my obsessive listening of carly rae jepsen's The Loneliest Time, because, it's a Blair album. full of dair anthems. it'd be kiiiiinda sorta like the 90s music au by audrina, but not because I'd want to do something different if I only had the time, but that's the vibe: Blair is a pop princess, Dan an indies guy, and ✨ROMANCE✨

(also the vibe would be like one of my favorite GOT fics Dangerous Woman, but this time I would pick the music)

they fall in love, fall apart, etc. etc. and there'd be other characters too. Serena in a music au could ONLY be Kesha, and she and Dan are exes-turned-besties and sometimes they write stuff together.

Dan's ride or dies are Jenny and Vanessa, and they each have their own thing going but they still write and perform together. boygenius. they're boygenius. (obvi Vanessa is Lucy Daucus, Jenny is Julien Baker, and Dan is Phoebe).

oh, and Carter Baizen is an actor and he and Dan meet through Serena and they date before the grand Dair Reconciliation.

and endgame dair & serenessa. bc I'm me.

[rollercoasterwords]

okay okay but have you watched twd?? i, for one, am also an avid zombie enjoyer so like i ate that up (also fuck i’m frothing at the mouth thinking of the zombie au u have planned i’ve been obsessively reading that one chapter posted)

yes!! i've watched almost all of it i think that i'm on episode 8 of season 11?? i need to check and see if any more have been added to netflix that's where i usually watch so i'm always behind lol

honestly i have mixed feelings about twd because like it's undeniably one of the most influential works of zombie media and also there's just so much of it that there are definitely good plotlines and moments but i really feel like the show has deteriorated as they've tried to drag things out because they essentially just keep repeating the same plot over and over again with zombies as like. a background mechanism more than a focal point. like they've been recycling the same plot of "two survivor societies encounter each other and go to war" since season 3 lmao and i think the last season where i actually enjoyed it was maybe season 8? and 9 10 and 11 have all just been kinda meh to me honestly

but yes i have watched just about every zombie tv show i could get my hands on this is (i think) the complete list:

- z nation

- freakish

- fear the walking dead (haven't actually finished this one tho i don't remember where i left off)

- black summer

- the walking dead

- kingdom

- santa clarita diet

- dead set

- in the flesh

- reality z

- zomboat

- daybreak

- all of us are dead

and i'd say twd ranks somewhere in the middle of the pack for me!

also eeee ty i am also excited abt the zombie au i have big plans for her but first i'm gonna finish some shorter projects just to take a little break from writing like. fics that are hundreds of thousands of words long lmao