#they kill you and dump your body in a river for sure

[peachesofteal]

Simon and Johnny love a good game. 

They get bored, when they're not at work. Climbing the walls and lurking for long hours in the gym, at the bar. You can only watch so much television, can only read so many books. They try to broaden their horizons when it comes to cooking, but so far, they're slow learners. 

But games. Games can be fun. Not board games, metal pieces and paper money, folding maps and cards. No. 

Simon loves a cat and mouse game. The most dangerous game. A game that ends with catch but never release.

And Johnny's always more than happy to oblige him. He's even better at it, in a way. Simon skulks and sticks to shadows, where Johnny roams in the sun, smiling at old women and babies, chatting up whoever's behind him in the check out line. Finding a mouse is never hard for him.

Tonight’s mouse is a touch too skittish for Simon’s liking. Even though he enjoys them scared, the last one pissed herself when he threw her over his shoulder. He wasn’t a fan.

Still, Johnny likes you. Simon would never deny him, though you do throw a curveball.

You’re scared, but you’re smart. You pick up on them sooner than your predecessors, head half turned over your shoulder, clocking the shadow from the corner of your eye. Survival instincts lead you to stick to the crowded street, avoiding the left you’d usually make to head home to your apartment. You zig, cross to the other sidewalk, you zag, weaving through couples and groups of people taking their time, you have your keys between your knuckles.

You’re managing until you make the fatal error.

The train.

Why do they always think a confined, underground space is a good choice?

One time they chased a mouse through a fucking tunnel.

Made her pay for it, at least.

Simon laughs out loud, Johnny chuckling in his earpiece. “She was doin’ such a good job.”

“Just as well. I’m getting hungry for dinner.”

“Are you having fun?” Simon cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest, and you shake your head rapidly, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. His cock grows heavy, and he squeezes it over his pants, Johnny licking his lips. Fuck. He loves it when they cry.

“Fun?” You croak, confused little wrinkle in your brow. “Wh-what?” Your mouth is hanging open too, and without thinking, he rams his fingers into it, shoving them back past your tongue until you gag. Johnny clicks his tongue, strokes your jaw before cupping it, immobilizing the hinges and forcing it wide.

“Want to have a bite before we get ‘er home?” There’s another man in the same car, on the other end, watching. He hasn’t said anything, done anything, moved at all. He’s only watched. A sick fuck like the rest of them. Simon knows he won’t intervene, so he pulls his fly down. The man pretends to glance away.

“Have you sucked a cock before?” You make some awful hissing noise like a strangled cat.

“C’mon bonnie, hold still.” Simon forces himself past your teeth. You’re shaking so hard it’s like your bones are rattling, and when you stay frozen, Johnny guides you, dragging the heat of your mouth back and forth on Simon’s cock. It’s hot, and wet, and his toes curl. It’s like getting high, like a cigarette after a huge dinner. Euphoric. Satisfying.

The man at the other end of the car turns to give the situation his full attention, but not to stop him. Instead, his hand creeps down the front of his pants.

“Aww mouse, I think he likes ye.” Johnny’s cock is also hard, swollen against his thigh, and he rips your tense grip free from the seat to press it to his erection, kissing your temple. “It’ll be my turn, when we get home.” You try to jerk free, thrash, but it only forces the blunt tip of Simon’s cock deeper, and you start to gag uncontrollably. Johnny’s practically shivering with excitement.

“Don’t puke.” He grunts, fucking your face, slamming deep as he pumps his cum down your throat. You moan, eyes slipping closed. Defeated. Trampled under foot. Poor little mouse.

It’s adorable. You’re helpless. There’s too much going on, him, Johnny, the fucking creep still rubbing away at his crotch, and he feels bad. They should be taking better care at this point. They always need to butter them up before setting them free in the maze.

“Lights out, Johnny.” Fingers find those pressure points on your neck, and then the next thing they know, you’re slumped over, asleep on Johnny’s chest. What a cutie.

“Think we can keep her for a bit?” Simon rolls his eyes.

“We’ll see.”

[undercoveravenger]

Doting

Pairing: Astarion x Male!Reader

Requested: No

Summary: Astarion is a little overwhelming when you’re injured.

-----

In your experience, there is almost nothing better than a good fight - the thrum of adrenaline, the pounding of your heart, the sweet sting of overworked muscles. Truly, there is little better, but this? This is torture.

You’re used to injury, it comes with the territory of being a melee fighter, but you’re not accustomed to taking it easy and letting yourself be doted on the way Astarion demands that you be. 

He hadn’t seemed to care about your hesitance to settle down and allow yourself to heal when you started traveling together, but ever since the fight at Moonrise Towers he’s been much more… invested in your recovery. He’d been on you almost as soon as General Thorm’s body hit the ground, prying the blood-slicked handle of your axe from your fingers and shoving it at Karlach so he could start dragging you back up the passageways back toward camp, waving away Jaheira and her Harpers and anyone else that sought to speak to you. 

Once you’d made it to camp, he was quick to unbuckle your armor and cast it aside, helping you clean off the blood in the river nearby before dumping you in your bedroll and demanding that you stay there. He’s been hovering since you got back, checking in near-constantly and always offering to bring things to you when you’re more than capable of fetching things yourself. You’d been the one to land the killing blow on the avatar of Myrkul, and now you’re barely allowed to lift your own canteen when you want a drink!

Even now, as you silently slip from your bedroll and move to take up your greataxe, you can hear him digging through the camp chest and muttering about the lack of medical supplies. He’ll be peeved when he figures out that you’ve snuck out, but you know you’ll be more helpful using your strength to clear what’s left of the battlefield than lying here counting the holes in your tent. Your fingers close around the haft of your axe and lift and there’s a flash of pain as the movement puts too much strain on your injured ribs. The stitches give as your skin tears and the wound pulses as it begins bleeding sluggishly again.

“Shit,” you hiss under your breath, free hand coming up to press over your wound like that’ll stop him from knowing.

Already you can hear the chest snap shut outside and swift footsteps approaching your tent. 

“I know I haven’t done anything to draw blood,” Astarion pushes aside the door flap, unimpressed crimson eyes fixing on you almost immediately. “So care to tell me why you’re bleeding again?” He raises an eyebrow at you and nods pointedly back at your bedroll. A sigh escapes you but you relent, placing your axe back in its place against the tent support and moving to sprawl back out on your bedroll at Astarion’s feet.

He settles silently at your side, unraveling your bandages until he can get at the pulled stitches. He uses the sharp tip of one of his daggers to slice through the damaged thread and carefully removes the remnants from your flesh before setting about threading up a curved needle so he can replace the stitches you’d pulled.

“I don’t understand,” Astarion says softly, voice hardly above a whisper, “why you won’t just let yourself heal.”

Your breath catches as the needle pierces your skin for the first stitch. “Because I’m fine and my time would be better spent helping out there.” You tip your head back to look at him but he won’t meet your eyes. “It’s just one little stab wound - it’s not like this would kill me.”

His lips twist into a sharp frown and his eyes flash up to meet yours. You’re more than a little surprised by the anger you see in them. “It could have. Any number of things in that dreadful place could have and then you’d be gone and I’d be alone again and I can’t be alone again!”

You’re stunned, baffled, by his outrage. Sure, you’d warmed each other’s bedrolls before and he’d told you something of his past, but he’d never led you to believe he cared this much. His chest heaves with the weight of his admission and his eyes are bright, like he’s on the verge of tears, but you knew he’d rather die than shed a tear over the likes of you.

“Astarion,” you say and the sound of your voice seems to snap him back to the present. You take his hand in yours and guide it up to press over your heart so he can feel its steady beating under his palm. “I am fine. Really, I’m alright. I am not going anywhere.”

He nods, opens his mouth like he’s going to say something and then thinks better of it. He nods again, and turns back to your stitches. He finishes them deftly, and then settles down at your side as soon as your bandages are tied back in place, lying next to you with his head on your shoulder and his hand firmly against your heart.

“Once Shadowheart or Halsin get back, we’ll have them heal you,” he says quietly, “but until then, let me stay? Just-” Astarion’s voice breaks off slightly and you’re not quite sure where the two of you stand anymore, whether this has pushed you past your playful bullying and comfortable acquaintanceship and into new territory or if you’re expected to just keep on as you always had. “Just let me make sure you’re alright until then.”

You’re still antsy, still itching to go back to Moonrise and help with the wounded, to help clear the wreckage, but Astarion is warm where he is curled close to your side and the weight of him is soothing enough that you’re content to stay where you are for the time being. Slowly Astarion’s breath starts to even out and you find sleep beginning to creep up on you as well.

You know that you’ll have to talk to him about what this means for the two of you when you wake, but for now, at least, you don’t mind his doting.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Twelve: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, domesticity kink, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, semi-public, bondage, blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking, squirting, cumming untouched, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, murder/blood/gore/drugs(referenced), knife, GEN. SMUT[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is so full of himself that he’s somehow tricked himself into a bit of emotional maturity, Anakin has blooming bromance, post murder sex spree [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Date

August 27th continued.

Anakin climbed through his living room window and shut it behind him, happily humming to himself as he shut and locked it behind him. He spread out two trash bags on the floor after rolling up the rug to get it out of his way.

Armed with a pair of scissors and a few gallon ziploc bags he went to work on the clothes he’d been wearing. Thankfully, he had enough sense to buy jeans and a hoodie from the Goodwill. He can’t fuck you in the clothes he killed a man in, that’s just gross. So he chopped up the fabric in little squares while watching an episode of Narcos for the irony of it.

He planned to drive around the city tomorrow and dump the remnants of his clothes down every sewer grate he could. He already said goodbye to his third favorite butterfly knife, having shoved it into a culvert on his way home. As well as his throwaway sneakers which he chucked into the murky water of the deep river that flowed beneath the bridge he trekked across to get home- the long way.

Anakin was a good citizen, he knew he couldn’t flush the drugs. He couldn’t dispose of them in the trash, he definitely couldn’t keep them, so he did what every responsible person would do: dumped them in the medical wastes slot at the CVS.

The cash on the other hand… over $2,000. That- that he could definitely keep.

With his mind cleared, soiled clothes squared away, and plan in place; he hit the shower and reveled in the faint metallic scent of blood that trickled down the drain. Mentally adding ‘new loofah’ to his to-do list, he scrubbed away at his skin with dawn dishsoap until he felt like his skin was screaming for him to stop. Then he used his favorite smell-good cedar soap, enjoying the steam of the scalding water pelting his back as he rinsed himself clean.

Diary Entry: August 28th

I feel GOOD. I feel better, I feel fresh.

My worries went down the drain along with every scrap of evidence I created. Have you ever felt such a clear and palpable mental reset? I haven’t.

I haven’t had a single negative thought since my visit with Joel. It’s all been rainbows and shittin’ unicorns, I know what it’s like to live completely carefree now. I could go the rest of my life and suffer through whatever disaster life throws our way and do it with a fucking smile.

Gods I just love you. I love you so much.

You’re perfect. I don’t know how the hell you do it princess but you’ve found every possible way to improve my life and you don’t even know you’re doing it half the time! It’s like you know exactly what I need without ever speaking it aloud. You just let the pieces fall into place.

It was your idea to DoorDash the pizza, your choice to wear that slutty pajama set I love so much, your sunshiny predisposition that drew his attention and the bangin’ body that held it. Without that, all of it, I’d still be wallowing in the throes of despair at my untimely death via withering away.

But here I am, having a damn good day!

The only thing that would make it better is me fucking you like a jackrabbit on his third 5hr Energy. However, I love you and as much as I’d like to fuck you within an inch of your life, I will not. I have a hand that works perfectly fine and a plethora of porn starring you that I can drool over until I’ve sated myself enough to act like a semi-normal human.

How will I broach the subject of my unrequited love today? I don’t know. Am I worried about it? Hell no. I have faith in my goddess to deliver what I’m worthy of.

How will I look you in the eye after my late night escapade? With a fucking smile.

Date

August 28th

You traded texts back and forth with Anakin all morning. Something had crawled under his skin and bit him with venomous lust, he’d sent you pretty pictures of his weeping cock, cum dribbling out and down the back of his hand. He’d texted, described in delicate detail what he’d like to do to you with the most vile and disgusting words to caress that sick little minx that lived inside your stomach.

He had you clenching around nothing, gushing slick behind the counter at the diner. Blushing deep, dusty rose petal red across your cheeks and creeping up under your shirt collar. You felt hot, your hands sweaty and mind flustered beyond belief. You hadn’t felt this sexually frustrated since Ghost had stopped torturing you in your sleep.

You were nervous and bashful around customers as if they could see straight through your polite voice and put together appearance. Underneath the confidence that you reserved for waiting tables was a deprived and thoroughly soaked cunt that controlled your every waking thought.

“Princess?” Anakin’s deep gravelly bedroom voice floated over the Formica countertop and wrapped you up in a warm embrace.

You looked up and saw the face of a desperate man. His pretty blue eyes had been completely swallowed up by his lust… love blown pupils. His normally calming cloud of energy was replaced by a jittery, buzzing storm of bottled up euphoria. He couldn’t wait to pop the cork and share it with you.

“Vigo?” Anakin’s voice cracked, his smile only growing bigger when your coworker popped his head around the kitchen door frame. “I’m stealing her.”

“Hey, you gotta clock out!” He shouted after you as Anakin gripped your wrist and whisked you out to his car. Vigo was already on his way to the time cards, punching it in for you to save himself the worry of you forgetting.

“Anakin what’s gotten into you?” You panted, trying to catch your breath while Anakin licked into your mouth and sucked the tip of your tongue. Kissing you as messily as he could short of drowning you via spit swap.

“Woke up missing you.” He groaned, nuzzling your breasts. His nose nudging the valley while he rubbed his cheeks against the swell, pushing them together with his splayed hands.

“Can’t help it.” He breathed out, biting your sensitive flesh through the fabric of your shirt.

“Ani.” You moaned, tugging his head away gently. “You already gave me a massive hickey.” He chuckled as you reminded him of the purplish bruise you’d attempted to cover with makeup.

“True.” He nodded, nipping you again anyway. “You could stand to have a few more though.”

“Shit, not now.” You shook your head and bucked up your hips, wiggling out of your jeans.

“Damn, that’s what I like to see sweetheart.” Anakin growled, smacking your ass lightly as he laid down in the back seat. “C’mere baby let me see my pussy.”

You giggled, complying and gingerly hovering over his mouth only to earn a frustrated groan from him.

“Goddamnit. I-I’ve never seen you this wet.” His eyebrows furrowed together as he looked up at you, his enlarged pupils snapping a mental picture of how beautiful you were from your position above him where you belonged.

Both hands suddenly gripped your hips and pulled you down on top of his face. He held on tightly, keeping you in place despite your concerns of suffocating him.

“Don’t care.” He moaned, thrusting his tongue up and swirling it around inside your entrance, the bridge of his nose rubbing your clit as he guided your hips to ride his face. “I’d be dying the happiest man on earth.”

“Oh my god.” You sucked in a sharp inhale, your palm smacking the headrest while your fingers hurt from the force of your grip on it.

“Mhmmmm.” You could feel his smug grin beneath you, even in this position he was able to establish dominance with just that crooked smirk and hard look to his eyes.

“Anakin…” moaning, you reached down to play with his hair, his mouth pulling your clit between his teeth to suck harshly, flicking his tongue at a fast pace in hopes to bring you to orgasm quickly. “Anakin please… s-slow.”

“Uh uh.” He shook his head with a chuckle, digging his fingertips into the fat of your ass.

“My pussy… my rules.” He mumbled, the words muffled and nearly incoherent.

He slurped and sucked, dragging his tongue in long stripes up your center, dipping the tip into your hole each time it passed over. He’d never eaten you so desperately, never had he sent you spiraling into orgasm this quickly. Heat traveled from your chest all the way to the tips of your ears, your hole quivering around his tongue darting in to lick up your cum.

“Ani- Anakin enough.” You whined, trying to get up but he just brought you back down and laved at you with just as much fervor.

“Please no… hurts.” You hiccuped, sensitive beyond belief and not ready for more in the slightest.

“Shhhh.” Anakin laughed, nibbling on your clit carefully, he slipped one hand beneath you, palm side up.

He tapped your hip and let you raise up for a moment to catch your breath, lasting less than a few seconds before he was one-armed manhandling you back over his face.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers while I watch baby.” He whispered, stroking your folds gently before prodding at your entrance.

“Oh sweet lord-“ he moaned loudly, watching your greedy pussy sink down on his fingers from below, your hole fluttering around the two digits.

“You’re so wet.” He whimpered, gazing up at you like you’d hung the moon just for him.

“All this for me?” He asked softly, as if he weren’t really sure what your answer would be.

“All for you Ani.” You nodded, brushing your knuckles across his cheek while he started pumping his finger inside slowly, stretching you out to take a third.

“Jesus, I don’t know what I wanna do.” He groaned, “I wish I could touch you all over all at once.”

He removed his fingers and brought them up for you to see the fruits of his labor, the creamy slick coated his fingers, stringing them together when he pulled them apart. He barely grazed your bottom lip with it before sucking it hungrily from his fingers.

“Goddamnit.” He moaned, pulling you back down with such force that you lost your balance and accidentally unlocked the car door, you giggled and quickly corrected your mistake, Anakin chiding you from below.

“Clumsy little brat.” He grinned, kneading your ass cheeks roughly.

His tone might’ve been playful but the look in his eyes was nothing short of predatory. He lapped at your glistening folds with the enthusiasm of a wildcat on a fresh kill, by the end of it he’d be sucking the bones dry.

Anakin hummed at the taste of you, groaning, babbling nonsense more to your cunt than to you:

“Tastes so good.”

“So pink and pretty for me.”

“Poor pussy just missed me so much huh? Is that why she’s crying?”

He switched up suddenly and had you frozen in place, your jaw dropped open as you let out a choked sob, tilting your head back to look at the car’s ceiling. He’d bit down on your raw and sore clit, peeling back the hood to tortuously bully it with kitten licks all while sucking as hard as he possibly could. It was too much, so much, all at once.

You were already so sensitive, you had already begged him to stop, now you had no words left, just pitiful whimpers as you bit down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Your legs quivered uncontrollably as goosebumps pricked your flesh, every hair standing on end as Anakin literally sucked you dry as you’d jokingly predicted.

He drew out a long and reedy noise from the depths of your chest, clawing it’s way through the fire in your lungs and past the torn skin on your lip. Creamy cum gushed from your core, coating his chin and neck.

The main course, what he was really after, was the hot juices that dribbled down the back of his throat as he sucked the nectar straight from the source. You would’ve worried you might drown him if you couldn’t visibly see his heavy breathing, feel and hear each desperate swallow and whimper. You could feel his stomach tensing along with his arms, his hands followed and closed into fists.

Turning his head to the side he bit down on your inner thigh, causing you to jolt and yelp, almost missing the way one of his hands flew to his crotch and squeezed his thick cock through his jeans, running his thumb over the fat, swollen tip as a small and sticky dark patch bloomed on his upper thigh.

“N-no no.” He whined, bringing you back down to his face, he carefully avoided your abused clit in favor of cleaning up your thighs and messy cunt, digging out every last drop of slick with his tongue.

“You… you are so fucking hot.” He panted, whimpering in pain when he sat up repositioned his cock.

“Did you-“

“Cum? Yeah.” He nodded sheepishly, stroking himself in his jeans for a moment before removing his hand and showing you the mess he’d made in his jeans.

“No way.” You whispered, a triumphant grin spreading across your lips.

“Yes.” He growled, shoving his hand between your thighs to wipe his cum off onto your spent pussy. “I don’t think you understand what you do to me sweetheart.”

“I’d pay good money to find a way to live inside your skin with you. Just to be close as I could get.” He said quietly, helping you back into your panties and jeans, wiping the excess cum onto the inside of his tshirt.

“I’d sell my soul just to breathe the same air as you if that’s what it took.” He said, pulling you into his lap and crushing you in a hug.

“You are like a Ghost that haunts every corner of my mind.” He whispered, licking the makeup off of your poorly hidden hickey.

Anakin didn’t miss the way you breathed in a sharp breath at his words it took a lot of willpower not to smile against your neck when he heard you audibly swallow with nervousness.

“I wake up and I think of you. I go to sleep and I dream of you.” His rough palms caressing the soft skin of your stomach. “Everything I see, everything I do, it all reminds me of you.”

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.” He said softly. “You’d never doubt yourself again.” His lips grazing your earlobe as he twirled a lock of hair around his finger, breaking the heavy tension by cracking a smile and tickling the tip of your nose with your hair.

He gently cupped your cheeks and brushed the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks and under your eyes. Staring at you with those unwavering black saucers in his eyes. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he’d done drugs. It’s unnatural for a human’s eyes to stay dilated for this long. But you knew Anakin, he was just high on you.

Diary Entry: August 28th continued

I have so much energy and I don’t know what to do with it all. I might try bench pressing a school bus, I could probably make it move alittle. If I didn’t give myself a hernia first.

What I really need is more of you. I thought a little sweet treat might tithe me over but I was WRONG. I’m feeling a new kind of insatiable.

It’s time for Ghost to get back to his old tricks with a new accessory: my rarely worn tongue stud.

Man I love it though, it clacks against my teeth so good. I can hear it in my brain for like, minutes after I’ve done it. Such a satisfying sound. Its crisp.

Which is unfortunately the reason why I can’t wear it often anymore.

I click clacked it around my bottom row of teeth too much and the dentist made me promise not to do it anymore. Turns out abstinence is actually the best method when it comes to prevention. If it’s not in my mouth I can’t fuck up my teeth, but I can play with my lip piercings. Yeehaw I love a loophole.

Anywho. I feasted on my favorite meal today and I desperately need more before I actually go insane. I need to taste you. I need to feel you. I need to fuck you til I lose consciousness.

I want you to be awake though because as hot as it is to watch you cum in your sleep, it’s even hotter to see you reacting to the things I say. Deny it all you want baby but you’re my whore.

Ghost, Anakin, both. You’re willing to do anything for my cock.

Date

August 28th continued.

Anakin can’t keep his hands to himself. It’s like he’s been corrupted by an incubus, he’s turned into an insatiable beast that just can’t stop. You’ve seriously considered the possibility that he may have somehow gotten his hands on some ecstasy and a suped up gas station boner pill.

Though logically you know exactly what is happening. He’s just giddy and feeling a weight lifted from his chest after confessing to you. It makes perfect sense. Carrying a secret like that is a burden, you know that very well by now.

Anakin is purely running off adrenaline fumes and endorphins. He’s burning it off the best way possible, by touching you in every direction, position, time, space and dimension that he can put you in.

He’s fucked you twice after taking you home from work today. Kitchen counter? From the back with your legs dangling helplessly, your sweaty skin sticking to the countertop. Coffee table? He pushed you down on it, swiping off the scattered items on it, including the freshly made sandwich and chips you’d brought him. He had said ’F-fuck… you’re just so sexy when you’re domestic.’

Right now on your third go around, he had finally, finally agreed to take you to the bed after you’d formed a triangle shaped bruise from the corner on the kitchen counter.

“M’sorry baby,” He whispered, licking away the dull pain on your hip from between your legs. “didn’t mean to.”

“I know Ani,” you breathed out, “it’s not your fault.”

“It is.” He nodded, pulling you toward the edge of the bed and gently helping you onto you hands and knees. “My poor girl.”

“You’re just so pretty. You’re so perfect. You’re so… you.” He sighed, standing behind and to the side of you to caress your injured hip.

His rough palm glided over the hot, sticky skin of your spine to brush your hair away. His free hand slowly tracing a delicate pattern across the plumped flesh of your ass, all five digits teasing the skin with tingling trails of warmth.

His lips caressed your tender skin up and down your side while he lovingly slipped a finger between your pussy lips. He groaned and made a fist between your shoulder blades to keep control of himself, your wetness feeding his need to be sheathed inside your warm and welcoming cunt.

“Pretty, pretty baby.” He whispered, his voice cracking while he brought his burning hot cheek down to rest against the swell of your ass, toying with his lip piercings to stifle a moan at the sloppy noises his pointer finger made on its descent into your depths.

“You’ve been so good for me.” He praised you, massaging your shoulder with one hand, kissing your ass cheek as he turned his head and rested the other side of his blushed face there, switching sides to watch your expressions change with each plunge of his finger.

“My little girl…” he growled, low and deep in his throat, “letting me take what I need.”

“Just wanted you to feel good Ani.” You sighed, gratefully accepting a second finger from him, feeling him twist his wrist back and forth with each slow thrust.

“Mmm, I did sweetheart.” He chuckled, “trust me, it’s hard to feel anything but heavenly when I’ve got my hands on you.”

“You’ve been so needy.” You whined, letting him guide your hand to your clit so you could rub yourself at your own pace along with his languid fingers.

“I know.” He clicked his tongue. “Are you okay sweetheart?”

“Course I’m okay.” You moaned, leaning back against his hand while his fingertips pressed and massaged your inner core.

“I put your poor little body through a lot today huh?” He cooed, switching his free hand over to your other shoulder to massage it the same as the other.

He smiled widely as he watched your face relax and felt your breathing slow into a steady rhythm. He felt proud. Proud of you, of himself, of his self control.

“Felt good Ani.” You whispered, your fingers tightening around the sheets in your fist while you rocked back onto his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers. “I needed it too.”

“That’s my girl.” He smiled, hearing the content sigh escape your lips. “You think you can cum for me again baby?” He asked softly, kissing the small of your back.

“N-no.” You whimpered, shying away from his gentle probing fingers.

“You sure sweetheart?” He asked, slowing his movements even further. “It’s okay baby, I just wanna make sure you’re taken care of.”

“M’sure.” You shook your head rapidly, “I can’t.”

“Okay baby.” He chuckled, “ready for me to stop then?” He asked.

“No… not yet.” You said quietly. “Lay with me?”

“Oh sure thing princess.” He grinned, removing his fingers just long enough for him to turn off your lamp and help you slide under the blankets, his nakedness pressed firmly against yours.

“Mm, you’re so warm,” you giggled, Anakin’s arms wrapping around you tightly while he kissed the nape of your neck, spooning you from behind.

“Cozy?” He asked with a gruff tone, slipping his fingers back into your messy pussy from behind to continue the slow and gentle caresses.

“So cozy.” You nodded. “I’m gettin’ sleepy.” You said tiredly.

“I figured so.” He nodded, his voice a soft whisper. “I’ll lay with you until it’s time for me to leave for work okay?”

“I’ll make sure everything is all locked up when I leave, I’ll kiss you bye.” He spoke low and soothingly as he gently rubbed your neck, removing his fingers from your folds when he heard your breathing slightly change.

“I’ll text you,” he whispered, sucking your slick from his fingers between words, not hiding his hard-on as it pressed against your ass. “when I get there and when I get back home. I’ll miss you so much until I see you again tomorrow.”

Soon enough you were deep in sleep and Anakin was glad he’d made you take your pills at dinner time, he’d thought ahead and considered the very real possibility that you’d end up being fucked to sleep.

He was right of course.

——————————————————————————

“Anakin what the hell man?” Trevor chortled shoving a handful of ice down the back of Anakin’s shirt in retaliation to the towel-whip he’d dealt Trevor.

“What? Can’t a guy be happy?” Anakin laughed.

“Happy? Nah you’re fucking hyper.” Trevor grinned. “What’d you do that’s got you feeling so good? Gimme some.” He teased.

“Shut up, the hardest thing I do is pot you know that.” Anakin snorted.

“Then what’s the deal?” Trevor splayed his own hand a few inches from his face.

“I’m love drunk baby.” Anakin waggled his eyebrows and shimmied his shoulders.

“Jesus I don’t even know you! Who are you and what have you done with my jackass?” Trevor grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him with a laugh, turning to pour a beer on tap for a patron.

“I ate him.” Anakin shrugged and giggled.

“I’m calling your girlfriend. I don’t know if I can be around you anymore.” April said, walking past the two of them with a serving tray.

“She needs a break from me, she’s very tired.” Anakin said with a proud grin.

“Oh my god!” April cackled and made a quick exit from behind the bar to serve drinks at a corner table.

“Fucking freak.” Trevor snickered.

“That’s what she said.” Anakin stuck out his tongue and flicked it with an impish grin.

After an hour or so the bar traffic grew stagnant and Anakin stepped out back for a cigarette, flicking his zippo out to light the flame and swinging in shut. Letting a curl of smoke leave his lips to breathe in through his nose. He leaned back against the brick wall with his legs crossed at the ankles, raising his arms above his head to rest his fists on his forehead.

He was looking up at the hazy city-light polluted night sky, searching for stars, when the back door swung open and Trevor stepped out with a bottle of beer for himself and one for Anakin.

“Trade me.” He grunted, sitting down on an old wood crate and holding out the beer bottle, two fingers extended for Anakin to sit a cigarette between.

“Yessir,” Anakin nodded, going so far as to light it for his friend.

“Anakin.” Trevor said thoughtfully. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” Anakin said, tipping up the beer bottle and watching the amber liquid bubble as he took a gulp.

“Did you hate me?” Trevor asked. “When you first started here?”

“What? Pfft, no what are you talking about?” Anakin asked, pushing off the wall with his black leather boot.

“I don’t know, you’re just different.” Trevor said with a shrug. “You just seemed so… excuse my critique; cold and distant.”

“Criticism accepted.” Anakin nodded. “It’s true I guess.”

“Yeah? So what changed?” Trevor asked in curiosity, a rare moment of vulnerability shared between two male friends wasn’t to be wasted.

“Met a girl. Got my shit together.” Anakin said, flicking cigarette ash to the pavement. “I love her you know?”

“Do you?”

“Mhm.” Anakin nodded. “I told her. She hasn’t said it back yet.”

“Well damn I’m sorry man-“

“No don’t be. She’ll say it.” Anakin held up his hand to stop him. “She just ain’t ready to admit it that’s all.”

“How are you not all depressed and shit?”

“I was, but I realized… I don’t care.” Anakin said simply. “I don’t care how long it takes. I don’t care if I have to wait until I’m dead in the ground. I know she’ll tell me when she’s ready.”

“I had myself a bit of a freak out.” Anakin admitted, “but after I cooled off I’ve been… happier than I’ve ever been.”

“That why you’re all…” Trevor gestured to him with both hands.

“Yessir.” Anakin grinned.

“So you’re acting like you’ve won the fuckin’ lotto because your girl didn’t say she loved you?” Trevor raised his eyebrows.

“She doesn’t have to.” Anakin said, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms, placing the cigarette between his lips, inhaling slowly. Grabbing it between his forefinger and thumb he brought it back down to his side and made an O with his lips, hollowing his cheeks and flicking the dip in his cheek to let a ring of smoke out.

“I know she does.” Anakin said, tilting his head back against the brick and letting it loll to the side to look over at Trevor. “She didn’t run off, she didn’t tell me to get lost, she laid there with me… pretty little head on my chest.” Anakin said, making a motion with his hand above his heart.

“Then today.” Anakin said, clicking his tongue with a smirk. “She sat on my face in the parking lot of the Bluebird during her break n’ let me fuck her all over the house when I got her home.”

“Jesus, here I was thinkin’ you were being sweet.” Trevor snorted, flicking his bottle cap so the it bounced off the toe of Anakin’s boot.

“If that doesn’t scream love I don’t know what does.” Anakin sighed contentedly, stubbing out his cigarette and dropping it into the designated rusty coffee can for cigarette butt.

——————————————————————————

“Hey, look Trev isn’t that the guy uh… the one who did that thing junior year of highschool?” April shouted over the din of the bar from the other end of the counter, pointing up to the smaller tv playing the news rather than the basketball game.

“Uh… hold on I can’t- I don’t have my glasses.” he said walking over and squinting, Anakin walking up behind him to look over his shoulder.

“Mm yeah that’s the guy they called- uh,” he thought for a second before snapping his right hand fingers and bringing his palm down on top of his fist, pointing up at the screen. “Duck! Didn’t they?”

“Yeah! Yeah, him.” April nodded, sucking on a lemon slice she’d dipped in sugar.

She turned back around and shook up the tumbler she was mixing a drink in, pouring it over two glasses and sliding it across the table to their owners.

“Why’d they call him that?” Anakin asked, wiping down the bar, before washing up some shot glasses.

“He’d duck his head up under the bleachers to look up girls skirts at the pep rallies.” Trevor said with a huff, “real shit guy.”

“Tried to sell my brother herbs instead of herb.” April turned around with an amused look on her face.

“Huh.” Anakin said, tonguing the inside of his cheek to hide a smirk. “Real shit guy indeed.”

“Surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” Trevor said with a chuckle.

“Why’s that?” Anakin asked, tossing his towel over his shoulder, rubbing his palms together while he sucked on the ball of one of his snake bites.

“Like I said, real shit guy.” Trevor scoffed. “Doubt they’re even looking too hard for the guys who did it.”

“Guys?” Anakin asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Yeah-“ he looked over his shoulder, “what’d it say April? Four of ‘em?”

“Yep.” She said, tossing her lemon rind in the trash.

“Damn.” Anakin shook his head.

“Yeah, the guy who ‘found’ him graduated with us too.” Trevor said, glancing back up at the tv and seeing it had switched over to the weather. “Supposedly it was a real mess, shit everywhere. Stole a bunch of stuff, some kind of drug related thing.”

“Well shit, poor guy.” Anakin shook his head, “that’d be a real nice thing to walk in on.”

“Well hell yeah it would, looking like the Red Seas in there.” Trevor snorted.

“How do you know?” Anakin asked with a smile.

“The dick posted it on his private Snapchat story before he called the cops.” Trevor said, “I didn’t see it, but my buddy did and he said it looked barf worthy, could smell it through the screen.”

“Goddamn that’s nasty.” Anakin winced, “thanks for that mental image.”

“I had to imagine it, so you did too.” Trevor said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Share the wealth or whatever.”

“Trev, I don’t think that applies to murder.” April said, walking past the boys.

“It does now, baby.” He said, tapping her ass as she walked past.

“Hey!” She shot him a dirty look but blushed and smiled anyway. “Told you not to do that at work.”

“Can’t help it.” Trevor shrugged. “Stress reliever.”

“Oh whatever.” She snorted.

“Anyway yeah- apparently the dude, Kyle Spencer, is suspect number one. He was high as a kite when he called Duck’s dad.”

“He called his dad?” Anakin asked confusedly, “not the cops?”

“His dad is the cops.” Trevor said, popping a piece of gum in his mouth before tossing a stick to Anakin.

“Oh shit.” Anakin scoffed, “so what, he called the guys dad to figure it out?”

“Mhm.” Trevor nodded. “At least that’s what everyone thinks. Cause Duck’s dad arrested the guy himself and seemed real ticked off about getting the call. He was at his other son’s house for the grandkids birthday.”

“Well, well, well.” Anakin snorted, covering his mouth to hide a grin as he poured a whiskey. “Isn’t that some good luck?”

——————————————————————————

“I’ve missed this.” Anakin sighed, cradling Boogie in his arms like a furry orange baby while he stood at the foot of your bed and watched you sleep.

“It’s the simple things you know?” He whispered, his filtered voice tapering in and out. He smiled beneath his mask, watching you stir slightly, kicking the covers off your feet.

He turned on his heel and walked out of the bedroom, setting your cat down on the kitchen counter and pouring her a third of a bowl of food. He took off his left hand glove to give her some chin scratches, then from the white patch between her eyes all the way to the end of her fluffy tail.

“You know, I used to really despise cats.” He said, leaning over on the counter and propping himself up on his gloved fist, watching her eat.

“The therapist I had as a kid said it was cause cats don’t automatically take to a person like dogs do.” He picked up her back foot and gently squish her paw pad to spread out her toe beans just to see her claws flex out.

“Cause they don’t listen. You can’t make ‘em listen, you can’t make ‘em do anything they don’t want.”

“I’m glad I met you.” He nodded. “You’re sweet, makes me… hmm, I wouldn’t say regretful. Just dissatisfied about before.”

“That’s okay though.” He sighed, “personal growth and whatnot.”

“I hope your momma won’t be too upset. I promised I’d start telling her before I visited, but you know tonight wasn’t really planned ahead and I got side tracked, and then sidetracked again, cause I’m here talking to you!” He chuckled, giving her a head pat.

“So hang out in here, okay kitty? I’ve got things to do.” He chuckled, unlacing his boots and setting them beside the front door, he made sure his socks were pulled up beneath his jeans and his gloves and sleeves were as they should be.

He crept back into your room, shutting the door behind him, thankful that you’d stayed naked after your evening escapade. You’d sprawled out, one leg bent and your arm above your head, the other hidden beneath the blanket along with your chest, middle and other leg. Anakin walked to the window and opened the curtain just the tiniest bit, allowing a sliver of moonlight to cast a pearly sheen across your exposed skin.

He stood and stared for a long while, having missed the scene before him. So many times he’d slunk in the shadows of your room, clinging to the wall to avoid disrupting that very beam of moonlight. He would scowl and chide you in his mind for leaving the curtains open, but he’d always, always, stop and observe the way you breathed under the pale periwinkle tinted light.

Once he’d had his fill of your nighttime innocence, he closed the curtain and returned you to the black of slumber, preparing to drag you with him on his path to midnight madness.

He lifted the blanket and folded it over out of his way, using the pretty patterned top sheet to cover his head after taking off his mask and placed it on the bed beside him.

Just for the extra security he tugged up his hood as well and hoped that he wouldn’t sweat to death before he could make you finish.

Slowly pushing your legs apart, he smiled at the soft breath you took in when he gently held your hip so that you wouldn’t shift out of position. Anakin pulled off his right hand glove and shoved it in his back pocket so it wouldn’t get lost beneath the sheets.

He kissed along your outer lips, pressing his nose against the crease at the apex of your thighs, inhaling the scent of you and dragging his tongue along behind as his nose traveled up that crease until he reached your hip, where the waist band of your panties should be. He took a moment to nuzzle into the softness of your lower belly, showering your satin skin with kisses before returning to your slit.

His mouth hovered over your folds as if he were mentally preparing himself to savor you slowly, compared to the fast-paced feasts he’d had on you earlier in the day.

With his tongue laid out flat he licked up the remnants of his cum and yours, introducing you to the warm ball centered toward the front of his tongue, purposely letting it catch against your clit. He breathed through his nose, leaving his tongue flat to circle and flick the metal ball over your clit, smiling in triumph when you jolted at the first movement.

He circled your entrance with the calloused pad of his thumb, slurping up your creamy slick from your folds. He flexed his tongue to swipe it side to side the bottom ball of the metal bar scraped along his bottom row of teeth, making a dull metallic sound that seemed much louder to Anakin than it was in reality so he halted his movements to listen for a change in your breathing.

After ensuring you wouldn’t ruin his fun too early he continued his gentle licks and prods of his tongue to your leaking hole. He pulled his mask closer to him, he needed to feel your heat around his fingers and he knew it wouldn’t take too long before you realized what was happening. After all, you didn’t drink your tea.

Inserting one finger slowly his curved it upward and flicked his tongue side to side at the same pace of his finger. He felt you stir beneath him, so he placed a sloppy kiss to your clit. Lazily licking across you rather than giving you calculated movements. He pushed in a second finger, groaning loudly at the squelch when your cunt hungrily sucked in the extra digit.

Your hands came down to push him away, trying to close your legs in your half-awake state.

“Ani?” You asked, trying to cover your drenched pussy with your hand when you felt an unfamiliar sensation slide over your clit, smooth and warm.

Anakin’s ego skyrocketed, but his penchant for deviant behavior told him that statement should be punished by Ghost. Although he’d have to make that decision later because you were getting whiny and impatient.

“Anakin, please.” You mumbled. “What’s that?”

Anakin halted his movements and slipped on his mask and quickly shoved his hand in his glove.

“I’ll give you one more guess little doe.” The modified voice cut through the fog of your sleep and you bolted upright.

“Ghost?” You gasped in surprise, pulling the blankets back over you. “You didn’t- why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Don’t be embarrassed baby,” he cooed, tugging the blankets away and running his leather hands up your stomach, stopping just beneath your tits. “This is an emergency visit and-“

“What?” You asked in confusion, your eyebrows furrowed. “What happened? What did you do?”

“Um… ow. Hurtful.” He said in a disappointed tone. “I didn’t do anything except develop a raging hard-on.”

“You ass!” You shouted, smacking at his arm. “You scared me!”

“Hey.” He barked. “Maybe next time let me finish talking yeah? Jumping to conclusions like that’ll strain a muscle.”

You stared at him in a state of… not shock or fear, but a bewildered sort of amusement. Once again: the audacity of this man is astounding.

“What?” He asked, sounding irritated.

“I don’t- I don’t know.” You snorted, covering your mouth to stifle a laugh.

“W-wha… hey?” He stammered, confused by your laughter. “Are you laughing? What’s funny?”

“You.” Another laughed bubbled up from your chest.

“Wait- what? You… you’re...” His mouth gaping beneath his mask. “Are you for real?”

“Oh- I’m sorry no… no don’t be mad.” You said reaching out but snatching your hand back quickly after remembering what happened last time you touched him like that without permission.

“Mad?” His voice crackled, the modified voice hinting at hurt in his tone. “Why- why would you think I’m mad?”

“Doe, I’m… that makes me happy.” He said quietly. “This is the first time I’ve made you laugh.”

“What?” You scoffed, “no it’s not.”

“It is.” He said solemnly. “Trust me I keep track of things like that.”

“But-“

“No, no. Trust me.” He said, straddling your legs but not putting any weight on you. “You’ve done that dorky anxious laugh a few times. But I mean… that was a real one.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, your face falling when you realized he was probably right.

“Doe, I’m sure about everything when it comes to you.” He said low and serious, inching closer.

“I’m sorry.” You said, feeling horrible. “That- I’m sorry, that makes me feel bad.”

“Don’t.” He said sternly. “Don’t feel bad.”

“I just had the most fitting conversation earlier today.” He said slowly. “Talking about things and waiting till they’re ready. You laughed cause you were ready.” He said with a defining nod, cupping your cheeks with both hands and carefully caressing your under eyes.

“I’ve always been in favor of positive reinforcement.” Anakin said, smiling to himself. “Do you think you deserve a reward?”

“What is it?” You asked suspiciously, looking him over.

“Something new.” Anakin said simply.

“But,” he said, tilting his head toward you. “You have to promise that you’ll listen to me.”

“Okay…” you nodded cautiously.

“Good girl.” He gave you a curt nod in return, breathing deeply. “Now, I’m gonna give you some very simple instructions. If you do not listen, if you don’t follow them with precision, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” You nodded, frowning slightly.

Anakin very tenderly rested his leathered thumbs over your eyes, gingerly closing them and so, so, so carefully making sure they stayed closed.

“Listen closely.” His voice low and dangerous. “When I tell you it’s okay, I want you to take my mask off.”

“What?” You jolted in shock, this was not what you expected at all, you assumed it would be something much more… raunchy.

“Shut up.” He said sharply. “Quiet, listen to me.”

“Sorry.” You whispered, biting down on your lip and fidgeting with your fingers.

“When I tell you it’s okay, you are going to take off my mask. You’re going to be quiet. You’re not going to talk. You’re not going to hear me talk. You will not move. You will keep the mask in your hands, in your lap, and you will not touch me.” Anakin’s voice was clearly conveying a seriousness that couldn’t be ignored.

“Yes sir.” You nodded.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” He dropped his hands immediately and squeaked out the most pitiful unfiltered noise a man could make.

He didn’t hide it when he palmed his cock, he didn’t seem surprised when you moaned after he grabbed your face. He did lean down, eye level to you and lace his free hand’s long fingers with yours.

“Say it again f’me doe.” He groaned, shifting uncomfortably from his throbbing length.

“Yes sir.” You repeated in a smaller, less confident voice. You hadn’t expected a reaction like this, you’d meant for it to come out snarky…

“New plan.” He grunted, fisting your hair at the top of your head to pull you into sitting position.

He got down off the bed and grabbed his bag from the floor, pulling out a pretty, pink, silk handkerchief and tossing it at you. Along with a pair of padded pink fabric handcuffs, Velcro, not metal clasps.

“What are you… what’s this?” You asked in surprise, an amused smirk on your lips.

“Well, you know the tape ah- just… oh fuck off.” He huffed folding the handkerchief to make a blindfold and carefully tying it tightly around your head, guiding your arms behind your back.

You heard the loud *skrrrriiip* of the Velcro coming apart, then felt the soft liner enveloping each wrist.

“No gag this time?” You huffed, annoyed that he hadn’t finished his sentence, his explanation.

His belt buckle clanked around and he undid his zipper, guiding you to your knees in front of him. He pried your mouth open and pinched the tip of your tongue between his fingers, pulling it slightly before roughly pushing your head down, forcing his girthy length into your mouth.

“Gag on this.” He grunted, holding your head still while you choked around his fat cockhead, your eyes already beginning to water.

He thrust himself in shallow strokes but made sure to hit the back of your mouth every time as punishment, drool dripping down your bottom lip and onto his weighty balls each time they smacked the underside of your chin.

“I w-was gonna kiss you.” He gritted out, causing you to pull back in an effort to say something, but he forced you back down, fucking into your throat alittle deeper.

“Jesus, just listen damnit.” He barked out at you, tugging your hair. “I was trying to… fuck that feels good- mmph.” A puff of air left his nose and he inhaled through his mouth in a shaky gasp.

“Tryin’ to kiss you, m-make it special and soft.” He grunted. “Tried to get you something alittle nicer than some tape from the junk drawer and an old bandana.”

“Should’ve known better.” He groaned, gritting his teeth while he listened to your labored breathing.

“Bitchy little ungrateful brat.” He spat, thrusting harder after he’d said it just to drive his point home.

“Y-you would’ve still gotten your kiss if you hadn’t of smart mouthed me.” He panted. “Now you’re just gonna get a belly full of cum.”

“When are you going to learn?” He chuckled, looking down at you and red tinted face. He pulled out his phone, turning on the flash and hitting record.

“You were being such a good girl.” He moaned, low and gravely. “Callin’ me sir? Good manners. That was a good job, little doe.”

“Then you you went and screwed it up didn’t you? Hmm?” His condescending tone sent a zap of lighting to your core. “Smart mouthing me like I’d let you get away with it.” He scoffed.

“Apologize to me sweetheart.” He demanded, grabbing you by the neck just beneath your jaw and squeezing when you didn’t answer. “C’mon you know you were bad.”

You breathed out through flared nostrils and blinked away your tears, you spoke as best you could but of course it was hardly more than a few choppy sounds.

“Don’t you know you shouldn’t talk with a full mouth?” He laughed, smacking your cheek gently.

“Oh don’t do that baby.” He cooed, his hips slowing as you tried to wriggle free from your restraints.

“Tell you what…” He pulled up your blind fold and tossed it aside. “let’s play a game.” He grunted. “Just be still for a second okay? Then we’ll talk.” He carded his fingers through your hair and nearly keeled over on the spot when your eyelids fluttered, showing just the whites of your eyes.

He doubled over, accidentally shoving his length farther than he meant to, shooting salty ropes down your throat, a choked moan left his lips as his knees buckled slightly.

“Holy shit- oh fuck…” He panted, doing his best to pull back slowly so as not to hurt you. “Sorry baby.” He mumbled sheepishly, quickly tucking himself back in his boxers.

“You okay?” He breathed out, crouching down and getting on your level after stopping the recording.

“Mhm.” Your lungs felt heavy, coughing from your sore throat. “M’fine.”

“Stand up.” He said firmly, but not in a commanding way, more of a ‘I know what’s best for you please just do it’ way.

You nodded and stood up to face him, waiting for further details but you got none. Anakin spun you around and removed your cuffs, grunting in approval when he saw he’d managed not to mar up your pretty skin on accident with these new bindings.

Then, gentle hands on your shoulders turned you back around. He just stood there and stared at you. You hated when he did that, it was so hard to judge his mood already. But when he was quiet and still? Impossible.

“Do you know what a safe word is?” He asked.

“Yes…” you said, looking off to the side.

“Good. Yours is purple, got it?” He asked, gripping your chin.

“Okay. Safe word is purple.” You nodded, gauging his unmoving form cautiously.

“Put on some pjs.” He said plainly, flipping out his knife, one you hadn’t seen before, just to play with while he waited.

“Is that new?” You asked quietly, trying to make some kind of semi-normal conversation.

“What? This?” He asked, flipping it closed and holding it out to you.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Is it?”

“You noticed.” He said simply, swinging his hand side to side in a gesture for you to take it.

“I’m smarter than I look.” You snorted, taking it from him and carefully opening it.

“We’ll see.” He said in a flat tone, his mood changed slightly now.

“Roses?” You asked, closing the handles back to look at the carved design in black metal with red backing.

“I bought that one just for you. I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind it as much if it were pretty.” He said softly, reaching his hand up behind his head to scratch his neck as though he were anxious.

“I- well.” You sighed, stunned by him for the thousandth time. “That’s actually very sweet Ghost.”

You awkwardly handed it back to him, unsure how to navigate this calmer water with him. You gave him a crooked smile and finished getting dressed.

“No.” He shook his head. “Not that. I like that one.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Fine.” You slipped back out of the matching set you had chosen, and tossed it in the drawer without folding it.

“Move.” He grunted, pulling out your bottom drawer and grabbed an old tshirt of Anakin’s and a pair of his loose boxers that you sometimes wore as shorts. “Put them on.”

You scowled, but tried to bite back your words. In some strange way of his own he was being nicer. He was trying. He obviously felt terribly about how he’d scared you into a panic attack, he cared enough to check up on you. You may as well play along.

After getting dressed you put your hands on your hips and faced him squarely.

“Run.”

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“Run.” He barked, his voice gritty and dangerous, he stood up to his full height and flicked open his knife again. “Get movin’, go!”

PART THIRTEEN

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[callahanisms]

ghostface art donaldson because i've just been binging horror movies and this just came into my brain

least likely suspect that's for sure. innocent eyes, solid alibi, and harmless. he doesn't even hurt a fly. you have to kill the bugs for him because he doesn't like to touch them, even through the thick paper towel.

first victim was entirely an accident. sort of. he just got so angry he bashed their head in with a rock. they talked bad about you. what else was he supposed to do? stand by and take it? no one insults his sweet pea like that. no one. he's surprisingly calm when cleaning up the blood and dumping the body in the river. that guy floats up from the river like miles and miles away. and he threw the rock in the river. it sank to the bottom.

art donaldson, your boyfriend. paid attention to all of your needs, was in tune with your desires. sweet and gentle. when you recall missing that guy, he doesn't say much other than, "someone heard him say that you were 'bitching out,' as he puts it."

you don't believe him. you thought he was your friend. "sometimes people are not what they seem." he hums, soothing you. he makes you feel better about cutting people off. some people were just toxic and not good for you.

art was good for you, of course.

ghostface art donaldson, who doesn't get a costume until you suggest he does. for halloween. it was something last minute thrown together. the mask, part of the hood, a compression shirt, a harness, gloves, tight pants and boots. fuck he looked so hot. the mask kink didn't help.

when he does begin to suck the poison out, he wears the full robe. he can't have anyone identifying his body. all witnesses can say was that he was tall and seemingly physically fit.

art is creative with his kills. he likes using things in his vicinity. yes, he has killed someone with a tennis racket. there was a lot more blood than he anticipated.

he calls you as ghostface. mostly to check in. but to you, it feels like a stranger randomly calling you in the middle of the night. and one time, he fucked up real bad. you could hear the screaming of your best friend in the background.

although it kind of works out for him. because you run into his arms, worried sick, crying. you need to be soothed. and he's the right one to soothe you. comfort you. pepper kisses all over your face.

you're the only factor that connects the victims. no one wants to talk to you. they're afraid. it's isolating. all people do is offer shallow condolences for your circumstance. thoughts and prayers, almost like they have decided your fate for you.

that's why art is so good for you! he gives you the socialization you need, the interaction you crave. you cling to him more and more. and hell, you even accept his offer to move into his place. you'll have to do it in a few months after your lease is up though.

he touches you like you're about to disappear, as if you will just walk out of him. he's peppering kisses along your neck, sucking and biting and leaving hickeys, fingers digging into your thigh. "gosh, you taste so sweet~" he's practically purring.

your heart goes cold. there's a twinge in his voice that gives him away. you've heard it before over the phone when your best friend was screaming as she was being hacked to pieces.

[imagine-silk]

I hope you are doing okay. I would really like a rather simple Idea of the Yan Fallout 4 boys whose obsession confesses that they have a crush... on someone else. But that someone else has no Idea.

》Ah, I see you crave violence.

【Codsworth】 "You can do so much better."

As much as he has no desire to date you he sees how great you are and you deserve someone just as lovely, maybe even more than you if someone like that existed. Who you've picked is subpar. Oh, they can make you laugh? Do higher your standards, please. For his non-existent heart.

【Danse】 "What do they have that I don't?"

In his heart he gets it; he is a broken man who isn't even human. But this was the last bit of sanity he could take. You try to explain yourself, whether it be the other person never spat at a ghoul or simply has their life together. He knows he can't change the past and he doesn't want you to leave him. Against his better judgement he goes to that person and fights them. He wins too.

【Deacon】 "How could that happen?!"

Deacon would consider himself lucky man, and he was very lucky you told him while you were on an investigation. This person lived quite comfortably and had a very stable life. Imagine everyone's surprise when someone found a letter on him saying he was going to let the raiders into Diamond City because no one would suspect him to be up to no good. Who told the guard? Don't worry about it.

【Hancock】 "Here's how this is going to go."

The second they set foot in Good Neighbor they are dragged into his office. He talks to them with thinly veiled threats and tells them to back off. When they say 'no' and stand their ground he says, "Whoa, you see that Glory?" with his hands up. She then proceeds to say she did, that they had a gun pointed at him. When they still don't back down and try to deescalate he has her shoot him. Even though everyone in Good Neighbor knows what happens the official story is that they pulled a weapon on the mayor and Glory had to save him. No one betrays that story.

【MacCready】 "Who?"

He plays dumb and asks you to tell him who they are. And you had no reason to think he had any ill intentions. Afterwards he brushes it off with a, 'good luck with that' kind of dismissal. However, now that he knows their name, where they live, and where they work, he kills them from long distance. No one can point the finger his way because he never knew the person.

【Nick】

♤If Platonic "When do I get to meet them?"

He's gonna do an impromptu 'If you want to date my daughter' kind of dinner with them. The entire time he's watching them with great interest, making threats in just the right way to be completely permissible. If and when you excuse yourself for a moment he fully tells them they have one shot to play this out and if they get it wrong no one will find their body. Don't be surprised if they dump you the next day.

♡If Romantic "Stay away from them."

He didn't mean to say it but after he did he had to roll with it. His silver tongue got him in and out of a lot of places so it's not hard to craft a story about how the person in question exhibits strange behaviors, enough that he needed to look into it. Just to make sure his story goes unchecked he pays them a little 'visit' and tells them to never speak to you. Ever.

【Preston】 "Really? That's great!"

He immediately supports you in your endeavor but later when you go to sleep he finds that person. He takes them out of earshot of the town and kills them, throwing their body into the river after. In the morning they are nowhere to be found and you're heartbroken. It's okay, Preston will help you look for them. He'll be right next to you.

【X6-88】 "I see."

He wants to tell you you're too good for them but that would be a waste of time. No, he needs to be smarter than that. Excusing himself and then finding them dead would be too suspicious. He was by your side the entire day and they suddenly collapsed. They died in your arms. Say what you will about that strange tragedy, you can never say you suspected him.

[richincolor]

Book Review: Bingsu for Two by Sujin Witherspoon

Publisher's Summary: Meet River Langston-Lee. In the past 24 hours, he’s dumped his girlfriend, walked out of his SATs, and quit his job at his parents’ cafe in spectacularly disastrous fashion—even for him.

Somehow, he manages to talk his way into a gig at a failing Korean cafe, Bingsu for Two, which is his lucky break until he meets short, grumpy, and goth: Sarang Cho. She’s his new no-BS co-worker who’s as determined to make River’s life hell as she is to save her family’s cafe.

After River accidentally uploads a video of his chaotic co-workers to his popular fandom account, they strike viral fame. The kicker? Their new fans ship River and Sarang big-time. In order to keep the Internet’s attention—and the cafe’s new paying customers—River and Sarang must pretend that the tension between them is definitely of the romantic variety, not the considering the best way to kill you and hide your body variety.

But when Bingsu for Two’s newfound success catches the attention of River’s ex and his parents’ cafe around the corner, he faces a choice: keep letting others control his life or stand up for the place that’s become home. And a green-haired girl who’s not as heartless as he originally thought . . .

My Thoughts: This was the perfect read for my first official review of the year because it's much easier to share about a fun book than most anything else and this one was definitely entertaining. River and Sarang are enemies from the start and that's one of my preferred tropes.  And while I have no explanation for this, fake dating pretty much always works for me too. I guess it's true that the heart wants what it wants as Emily Dickinson once wrote.

River really does turn his life upside-down at a rapid clip with progressively funny moments. The chapter titles are also there to let us know that the train wreck is about to begin almost like the little signs that Wile E. Coyote holds in his cartoons.

As in most rom-coms, there are misunderstandings galore and there is a delightful roller coaster of events and emotions. The author uses a wide variety of formats in the storytelling which gave it a fast paced and scattered feel which matched up well with River's slightly chaotic emotions and behavior. There are videos in script form along with texts and social media posts too. It all flows well and I appreciated the breaks from paragraphs.

River and Sarang have plenty of bantering opportunities along with more serious and measured moments of honesty as they get to know each other. There are times when readers will have second-hand embarrassment for River, but there are also plenty of reasons to laugh and smile.

On another note, there are Korean words in the book that are written out with the English alphabet like Umma for Mom, but there are also some words written in Hangul. Whenever that happens, the translation may be found at the bottom of the page. There is also Hangul on the cover, but it is subtle with 빙수 카페 (Bingsu Cafe) on the awning and some other words on a small sign in the corner of the window. I appreciate that authors seem to be more inclined to include languages other than English within their texts and it is interesting to see the variety of ways to do this.

Recommendation: Get it as soon as you can especially if you are in search of something on the lighter side. This is an adorable book that is sure to delight readers and possibly inspire them to visit their nearest Korean cafe.

Extras: Fun online menu for the cafe Q&A with Author at The Nerd Daily The Seattle Times Article

Publisher: Union Square & Co. Pages: 320 Availability: On shelves now Review Copy: ARC via publisher

[camsthisky]

I love your writing so much, I’m so excited for this event! How about “Tell me who did this to you” from the protective/loyal prompt list, with Jason and hurt!Dick? Thank you!!

Dick has the absolute worst luck.

Sometimes he wonders if there’s just something about him that screams hit me with a dump truck full of baddies and throw me into the river to drown, because this is the third time he’s been tossed into the water this year.

The moment he’s airborne and heading towards the water, Dick is hitting the panic button in his glove and praying that he’s going to be able to survive this attempted drowning as well as he did the other two.

The tricky thing about this time, though, is that he’s been tied up, and while Nightwing has been in some sticky situations, Dick isn’t sure that he’s going to come out of this one whole and hale.

Because, come on. Chains? Really? The baddies this time had slapped manacles on him and wrapped him in chains and tossed him into the dirty river and Dick is pretty sure he’s going to die if he doesn’t find a way out of this. Quick.

At least if they tied him up with rope, he’d probably have a much better chance of surviving. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a handy dandy pair of bolt cutters in his utility belt. If it’s supposed to be there, then that was a lesson Dick had missed during vigilante lessons.

At some point, Dick blacks out, and as his vision goes dark, all he can think is, “I didn’t get to tell Damian that I love his new suit design.”

—

He wakes up choking on water. Dirty Gotham river water. Gross.

“Breathe, dammit!” someone yells at him, and miraculously, as he’s turned on his side, Dick manages to cough out the nasty water taking up the space in his lungs where the air is supposed to be. Someone thumps his back, and—

well. Eventually, he sucks in a huge heaving breath and coughs out some more. His throat is absolutely ripped to shreds and he’s still chained up.

But! He’s not underwater anymore. Which is a major plus. And Dick can mark a three-for-three on his score of surviving being thrown in the Gotham River. So take that, bad luck.

“What the hell, ‘Wing?!” that same someone—Jason, Dick realizes. No helmet, but anger and spite in spades—bites out. “Are these fucking manacles?!”

“Yeah,” Dick croaks. He’s exhausted, and Jason is leaning over him now, flipping up the lenses in Dick’s mask to check his pupils. “Not my century of style, I know. But I think I pull them off pretty well.”

“You’re a fashion disaster,” Jason mutters. “Who the heck even managed to catch you like this?”

“Oh, you know,” Dick says, very expertly avoiding answering the question directly. “I’m just a magnet for trouble. All the weirdos are out to kill me in the most ridiculous ways. Including manacled river drownings like we’re in medieval times. Gotta love Gotham.”

Jason flips Dick’s lenses back down, and gives him an unimpressed look. Even with Jason’s mask still on, Dick can see the sheer unimpressibility—is that even a word? Dick’s brain is not operating at full capacity—in Jason’s face based on his micro expressions.

“Tell me who did this to you, Dickhead,” Jason says, hauling Dick to his very uncoordinated feet and then swinging him up over his shoulders.

Someone needs to tell Jason to stop growing. Or not. Growing means Jason is alive, after all. Even if he is taller than Dick by a good few inches.

“We gotta tell Oracle that there’s some loser chaining people and throwing them in the river to drown. God, why couldn’t it be ropes? You could have cut the ropes and I wouldn’t have had to save your stupid ass.”

“My ass is not stupid,” Dick wheezes as he hangs from Jason’s shoulders. He’s pretty sure Jason’s dumb body armor is digging into his stomach. “My ass is amazing.”

Dick can practically hear the eyeroll.

“Give me their names, Nightwing.”

“You sound like B.”

“And you sound like someone who doesn’t know what’s coming to him,” Jason says. “The hell are you so reluctant for?”

“So,” Dick says, still kind of sounding like one of those stupid rubber chicken toys if it had gone through ten rounds with Titus and was on its last freaking leg. “I may or may not have figured out who chained me up and threw me in the river.”

Jason groans. “I am so angry at you right now.”

“Cool,” Dick says, and he’ll come back to Jason’s emotions later when he has the brain capacity to actually deal with them. “You got any bolt cutters?”

“Why me,” Jason complains.

“Why me?” Dick throws out, a little offended. “I’m the one who almost drowned.”

“I’m honestly having second thoughts about saving you.”

“No you’re not.”

Jason sighs, finally setting Dick—chains and all—on the ground. They’re a couple blocks away from the river now, and the streets are deserted.

“No,” Jason admits, exasperated. “I’m not. Why are you so annoying?”

“Older brother privileges,” Dick tells him, blinking rapidly to try and reduce the fuzzy feeling in his brain to maybe zero. That’d be great, yeah. Zero is a good number.

Another eye roll. Probably. Dick can feel it in the universe, even if he can’t actually see Jason doing it.

Dick must lose time at some point, because when he blinks next, he’s on the couch in Jason’s apartment, dressed in a t-shirt and sweats, and miraculously unchained.

His head is a bit floaty, but he’ll take all the wins he can get tonight.

“—dumbass who got himself manacled, for fuck’s sake,” Jason is saying as he walks back in the living room. They make eye contact and Jason scoffs into the phone. “He’s awake, so come get him before I throw him back into the river and let him drown for real.”

Jason hangs up and throws his phone onto the coffee table.

“That was mean,” Dick says. “Even if B’s an ass, it’s mean to say things like that.”

“He was pissing me off,” Jason mutters, but he plops down on the floor in front of the couch. “He’s gonna be here in twenty to pick your sorry ass up for a medical check. Pretty sure you have a concussion.”

“I didn’t hit my head?” Dick asks more than says.

Jason snorts. “Yeah, sure. That explains why there’s a knot the size of a walnut on the back of your head.”

Dick blinks. “Oh.”

“That’s the only reason I’m letting you off the hook about not knowing who those guys were,” Jason tells him.

“Sure,” Dick says, eyelids feeling heavy again. “Whatever you say, Jay.”

[hammerhead-jpg]

More new video spoilr

To expand on the implications of my last post, here's my predictions

From what we've seen, it really seems like it's setting up that Blake will turn into Hush

When I first started seeing people being like "_____ is actually Hush!" I just went "Hush is Hush he could've just been created out of nothing" but now...

People theorized that Avior might be Hush's brother, or that Avior is going to turn into hush, and while the first one was my idea at first based off of nothing but "it might be cool" I don't believe that that's it now

Yeah, a lot of people pointed out how the sounds that Avior is hearing sound like Hush's magic, but Avior said that it sounds like someone is trying to reach out to him and tell him something so it's less likely that the sounds he's hearing are a foreshadow to his foreseeable future, and more likely that at this point in time Hush has already been created and is trying to reach out to him for some reason

Also: Hush says that the first memory he has is his Brother trying to kill him, if Avior somehow for some reason witnesses the creation of Hush (which is already questionable since Hush was most likely created in the river of death), why would his first reaction upon seeing this unknown thing being created be to kill it?

What I think is more likely is: Brachium is Hush's brother.

Blake dies, goes down the river of death, but because Brachium made a deal with the Sovereigns, he must take him to them.

When Blake arrived, he makes a deal with the Sovereigns.

They promise him that they will bring him back to earth and let his lover live as long as he helps them fulfil their goal. Blake agrees right away, but the Sovereigns (because as Brachium literally said they don't have your best interest in mind, BLAKE) hide the fact that when he goes back he'll be different. He'll loose all his memories and his humanity and become nothing more than a tool for the sovereigns, and when his purpose is fulfilled he'll stop existing. The sovereigns use the water of the river of death and the silence in the spell song to create "Hush". Seeing this, Brachium, knowing that he will bring destruction to earth, tries to kill him, but because Hush is way more powerful, Brachium looses and Hush is brought to earth, wether as a new being or directly back into Blake's dead body I don't know.

This might be the crazy part: Doc is actually Bestie.

We know that Bestie is empowered, but we never actually learn what kind of magic user they are so they very well could be a freelancer healer.

I don't know what happens between the creation of Hush and the meeting between Hush and Bestie/Doc

It could be that close knit find Blake's body, somehow separate it from the shade (the shade is fully fed so I'm pretty sure it couldn't have escaped from the room) and descide that they can't tell the police/department that they're keeping a shade in their basement and dump his body into the nearest forest, potentially for him to be found and pronounced dead.

It could also be that Hush is brought to earth back into Blake's body and Hush escapes the close-knit building before the close knit members even realize that Blake is dead.

Whatever it is, Bestie/Doc is probably under the impression that Blake is either missing or dead.

So when Hush meets them, the strange fascination/almost care he has for them could be because of his subconscious memories of loving them and sacrificing everything for them in his past life.

You could say "well how doesn't Bestie/Doc recognize him as Blake?", well, it could be that Blake's appearance has changed enough that he's unrecognizable (and in this universe about 50% of the male population has very similar sounding voices), or you could even say that maybe they do want to believe that Blake somehow came back to them in a different form, but are not sure enough to outwardly go "Blake, what happened?!"

It makes sense that the Sovereigns would need a human vessel to create Hush. Before I thought that they used all the energy from the inversion to create him, which is most likely true, but if all they needed was a lot of energy and the silence of the spell song they could've created him a long time ago using the energy that the shades took over however many years they existed. They couldn't have created Hush before since human souls don't go to the sovereigns, the sovereigns had to make a deal with Brachium so that he could bring a human over to them.

There are a few things that don't match up though

I'm not sure how the timelines go, but Elliott is out of the basement on January first so it is to be assumed that Blake's death and the creation of Hush is at least two days after that. But Avior and Starlight's coffee shop date where he first starts hearing the ringing sound is most likely also probably January first, since Avior goes to Starlight's apartment for the first time after the date I'm assuming that they went to the coffee shop right after the inversion because really where else would they go if not their apartment, unless Avior just fucked off to Aria for a day which I heavily doubt he did.

So it seems like Avior was hearing messages from Hush before Hush was created? I don't know I'm probably wrong about this timeline since, despite the website being only the timeline, the timeline is very unclear

Also, my memory could be wrong but I remember that Hush talks about his brother trying to hunt him down, which is kinda hard to imagine Brachium hunting Hush down when they're in two separate planes of existences

Also also, didn't the Sovereigns say that Bestie needs to die so that it could "break" Blake? They haven't died yet so how can it break Blake when Blake is now Hush who has no memories or emotions? Will it be a dramatic scene where Hush gains the ability to feel grief once Bestie/Doc dies? Or was the Sovereigns original plan that Blake would khs to after Bestie died to try and commune with them and his request would be to bring Bestie back to life?

What has Avior have to do with it? Who knows really

Whatever it is, we might be seeing Scorpius in the next/second to next the Balance series video

Please Erik I need him Good Boy Audios is well and alive it's not like the William situation where the VA disappeared without a trace I need him Erik please don't do this to me

[magnuscomedybracket]

Quarterfinals Match 3

034 Anatomy Class vs. 131 Flesh

Propaganda under the cut!

034 Anatomy Class

The delivery. The teacher going crazy because students asking questions.

#fear beings who want to know more about the human body and decide to go to college about it (via @/the-goose-caboose)

#all those “students” had like. sneak 100 surely their behavior was completely unsuspicious lmao #and at the end theyre genuinely just like “hey thanks for teaching us about the insides” and the teacher's just completely traumatized (via @/silverywillowtree)

131 Flesh

so the episode starts with jonathan IDIOT sims of the FUCKERY INSTITUTE deciding you know... to get into the torture coffin i need to have a connection up here on the surface so i can find my way out... so, obviously, youre like awwwhh is this the moment he realizes he needs martin and saves him from the lonelt❤️❤️❤️ does he have a heartwarming connection w his coworkers and realize he needs his friends and cant just do everything alone❤️❤️❤️ and then that fool, that absolute bastard, that CIRCUS of a MAN goes. i nees physical pain AND THEN TRIES TO CHOP HIS FINGER OFF FOR FIVE MINUTES WHILE THE EYES GOIN hey ! hey stop ! hey ahahhaha stop what are you doing hey ahahah you need your finger hey stop doing that !! and regeneratjng his finger and then goes damn this wont work... IM GOING TO REMOVE ONE OF MY RIBS ! :D and then he goes to find JARED BONETURNER HOPWORTJ who yk has KILLED PEOPLE which helen just had IN HER DOORS, YK, FOR FUNZIEZ !! ands like heeey can u remove my rib bbggg hahahahaha ;] and even JAREDS like what the Fuck. then sure ! if u let me out of the DOORS ! then jons like hey btw :3 can i have ur statement :3 and jareds like yah sure if u give me another rib, and jon, jonathan fucking sims. AGREES ! that is like the equivalent of tradinf a rib for a burrito. so jared gives jon his statement and. SURPRISE ! its shit and unhelpful. and now jon has two less ribs, THEN jareds likd yoooo ur rib feels weird as hell and then helen promptly dumps jared into the nearest river. and rhe entire timd tou cannot make out SHIT of what jareds saying i wouldnt be surprised if you told me that guy was speaking in TONGUES. but oh wait ! it gets better ! elias fuckdd up and thd apocalypse wouldve at LEAST been delayed if jon DIDNT take his ribs out. BUT OH WAIT ! IT GETS EVEN BETTER ! later in the gardner jareds like hey ur ribs weird take it back i dont want if anymore it feels weird and then jon fucking smitss him [why the fuck does his rib feel weird btw..does hd have rib eyes? would that mean hd has eyes on all his bones? organs too??? id likd to think so.] *bows* thank you ! thank you !

#flesh is so funny I love melanie in that episode #she’s so pissed off and done with jon #idiot can’t even cut off his finger right :/ god jon you useless piece of shit come with me I know a guy (via @/backslashmagpie)

[tobiasdrake]

And then there's THIS asshole. Okay. Sure. I have emotional bandwidth for this. Why not.

I've been suspecting it since my first case in Kanai Ward but I guess I'm built different. *insufferably smug*

...I forgot how stupid his chin-dick is. XD Who put that on your face, man?

Oh wow, fuck this guy with an iron pole. Can we hang up on his stupid face? We have way better things to do with our time, like talk about how much we miss Yakou or open that bomb-present Makoto gave me.

That sounds like a you problem, to be honest. You said you're withholding intel 'cause it's better if we figure out what the vague bullshit you're on about means for ourselves. That's a crock.

If you want me to care about the Great Global Mystery then you need to start selling me on what those words you're using mean. Otherwise, you can solve it yourself.

Halara's over here saying the same thing I am but much more civilly. I suppose there are more diplomatic methods of information gathering than flipping double-deuces at your boss but honestly I've had a lot of upper-class privileged dipshits in my business today and I'm rapidly running out of fucks to give.

See, now we know and can do something with this information. These people are probably related to the corpses allegedly being trafficked into the Restricted Area. Y'know. For homunculus research.

By chance, did that happen to begin three years ago? No reason in particular, just curious.

Allegedly it's super-toxic because of a gas leak from a mine but, as stated before, "There's this one place where nobody ever ever ever goes" sounds like the perfect place to stash a big secret. It's the most obvious candidate for the secret secret lab.

SPILL. Forget what I said about wanting to go home and mourn. I am hungry for this intel.

BINGO. That's gotta be our homunculus lab.

This has come up many times over the various cases. The Peacekeepers remove bodies from crime scenes quickly for this reason, but it's never been discussed what happens to the bodies. Does Kanai Ward do burials? Cremation? Dump 'em in the river? Cannibalism?

That last one's mostly a joke but. Like. KANAI WARD SIGNATURE MEAT BUNS. I type it like that because something feels weird about the whole town's obsession for this one food product, which various food vendors keep mentioning.

In any case, what becomes of the dead once their body is taken away by Peacekeepers is unclear.

But now we know. We've been told even Peacekeepers don't set foot in the Restricted Area. But that doesn't mean that nobody goes there.

SON OF A BITCH. Peacekeepers don't go to the Restricted Area because that's Makoto's turf.

This is it. This is our homunculus lab. It has to be. That's why Makoto took us to the secret classified lab in a Restricted Area. He gave us the run-around for the sake of his power play against Yomi.

You've got intel too, huh? Lay it on me, Viv.

Oh shit. There is? Even Kurumi hasn't mentioned that, so it must be major.

Then again, Kurumi though the Restricted Area was a completely unassuming location and the last place you'd ever expect something shady to be concealed at. So it's possible this is just her poor judgment cropping up again.

That's. Horrifying, the more you think about it. Like. We're already neck-deep in corporate conspiracies, eldritch secrets, shady organizations, and homunculus research. And guess what, it turns out the town has a full-on fucking

in effect. That's. Great.

Fucking hell. This rabbit hole goes deeper and deeper.

Number One's getting on his shit. "Never give up, never surrender, I will guide us to glory, we are the ultimate detectives, we will--"

...

...

...

Oh.

Shit. Oh shit. Things are heating up now. I was expecting Number One to eventually join us, but. I guess. He's been killed in a bombing?

Fuck. We don't know that this is related to the Kanai Ward investigation but c'mon. But then. That would mean....

Makoto? He's consolidated his power and taken out his only rival. He doesn't need us anymore. Now that he is the unambiguous God-King of Kanai Ward, he could be making moves to--

MOTHERFUCKER. It wasn't a bomb but I was in the ballpark. Makoto's eliminated his business rival, and now he's eliminating his foreign threat.

I don't know why he'd bother taking us alive, though. But I'm sure we'll find out.

Traditionally, chapters 5 and 6 are where shit gets real. It feels like we've entered endgame.

Didn't do so hot with this one. Made a few mistakes. And. Well. Sephiroth Vader's attacks weren't easy to dodge.

This chapter was intense. Chapter 2 hit me a lot harder; The fact that Yakou was already dying when we killed him numbed a lot of the grief. It's hard for me to mourn him when he went out on his own terms, doing what he wanted.

Even though Yomi manipulated him, that remains true. Yakou wasn't under duress. He had weeks to weigh his options and think about it. He made his choice. I respect him for it. In a way, this feels less like Yakou being taken from us and more like shaking Yakou's hand and bidding him a fond farewell.

The mystery itself was fun to try and figure out. It was hard, complicated, and the true answer (Kung Lao hat) was a lot of fun. I enjoyed cracking the Most Locked-est Room Ever more than I enjoyed cracking the four standard Locked Rooms in Chapter 1.

This was great. Chapter 2's my fave but chapter 4's a close second. Now we're moving into chapter 5, and I'm excited to see what fresh hell Makoto has waiting for us.

I know I said "We'll fuck up Yomi today and if he sucks then we'll fuck up Makoto tomorrow" but I wasn't expecting Makoto to take that literally.

[subjectivemortality]

okay so. If like. You had to kill someone and you'd never done it before. But you kind of didn't have much in the way of options left obviously. How would you go about doing that?

[private]

Ah, hm. Well.

I think, most importantly, you need to be sure that whether it's your only option or not that it's one you're prepared to take. There is no un-taking a life, and it hits everyone differently even if they're doing it for survival, even if they've done it a hundred times before. Sometimes it feels justified, sometimes it feels like a part of you died too. Prepare for the worst, and if you don't want to wind up in jail that means having a pre-arranged exit strategy that you can take even if you have a bad reaction.

Mechanically, humans are fragile things and can be killed in almost any way you can think of, so the method is really up to personal preference. Smothering or choking are less messy but take longer and if you're weaker than they are more risky. A bullet is the most efficient but messy and loud, not to mention sourcing a gun and ammunition can be challenging. Knives, even a metal butter knife if applied the right way, are also messy but quicker. Go for the throat, not something like the chest or stomach - stabbing someone through the chest without hurting yourself in the process is more difficult than they make it look in movies, and a stomach wound takes longer to bleed out than you might think. A clean cut across the windpipe or through the jugular. If you don't have something sharp, break a mirror and wrap part of a piece of glass in thick cloth like denim so that you don't cut your own hand. If neither of those are possible - something extremely heavy to the back of the head. Extremely heavy, heavier than you might think would do it. If they don't go down right away, keep hitting until they do.

Then, and this is important, get out of there as quickly and and quietly as you're able. If there was any noise or struggle there is always the risk of someone else hearing, and it is not worth waiting it out to see if the cops got called. Take whatever you used with you, find the nearest body of water, weigh it and your clothes down with rocks however you need to, and dump them away from wherever the entry point is - so if it's a river with a bridge, you want to be away from the bridge.

Mm. If you need...motivation, or something to help push you through it, you can pray to me and that should help. Some.

[seabreeze2022]

Danube River Cruise, Part 4

Still in Budapest

Still doing walk about. So much to see and do in Budapest. This is their “Funnel Cake.” This is common street fare.

It is dough wrapped around a metal form and then turned over a charcoal fire. As it cooks it is periodically moved closer to the heat. Two different shapes. The one becomes a cone and can have ice cream placed in it. Mine was the “classic”, which is tube shaped, with Nutella chocolate smeared on the inside. They forgot the coconut on the outside. I think they all go through a sugar bath after cooking.

We were looking for this “Street Market” which was next door to the little food truck stop where I bought the funnel cake. The Street Market was not a Farmers market which we were expecting. Save your money on a “Bad acid trip” and visit this place.

Multiple bars and a couple of open air shops. Two floors of what you would expect to see in an opium den. A cross between Bourbon Street and Key West. I am sure it is wild at night.

This is the “Great Synagogue” in the Jewish District. Surprisingly we only saw a handful of Hasidic Jews in the district. Second largest synagogue in Europe. Lots of history and not all good. It did survive WW 2 fairly unscathed. But its people did not.

This is inside with our English speaking guide giving his talk. Very ornate. All men had to wear a yamaka. So they gave us a paper yamaka with a bobby pin. With my short hair, I more or less balanced it in place and held it on when outside in the wind. The bald guy really had problems.

This is a reminder of the Jewish hostages held in Palestine. We have seen much graffiti starting in Zurich and here of “Free Palestine” with some fighting back by the Jews. It has now been a little over a year of captivity for the hostages.

The Jewish faith forbids bodies to be buried near the synagogue. Yet there are over 2,000 bodies buried in the courtyard here. All were killed and left in the street at the end of the WW 2. Allied forces quickly buried these here in mass graves. Only half have been identified. It is also forbidden in the Jewish faith to exhume or move a body. So they are a grim reminder of what has transpired in the past.

From the Jewish synagogue we visited St. Stephen’s Cathedral. I need to specify it is St. Stephen Cathedral in Budapest. We visited several others with the same name in different cities. The largest Cathedral in Budapest. I would like to formally post my objection to the building of such tall Cathedrals. I can not get them in the photograph without it warping the image. I also have to strain my neck to see the spires and the ceilings inside.

Pictures just do not do these houses of worship justice. So much symbolism and artistry everywhere.

The Cathedral is named after King Stephen founder of the state. He died in 1038 and was later Canonized.

Before heading back we stopped by for a pint of Guinness. Which reminds of us Neil and Beverly and our trip through Anglesey, Wales.

Having a traditional Hungarian dish of pork knuckle. I can highly recommend it for meat eaters in the crowd.

Desert of caramelized strudel.

This is the after dinner drink of the local moonshine “Palinka”, no open flames please.

Next morning we toured the Parliament Building. It is so big you can not get it all in the photograph from street level. You will see the whole thing lit up when we depart on the ship the next night.

This is looking back at the front door. Unfortunately there are very few places where we can take photos inside. We saw the gold Crown studded with gems, protected by two soldiers at all times.

This is equivalent to the Senate floor. With students receiving a lecture at the time.

This is a monument of 60 pairs of shoes. Symbols of the 15,000-20,000 Jews who were required to remove their shoes, prior to being shot and their bodies dumped in the Danube. This happened during 4 months in WW 2. The shoes were considered valuable at the time.

After checking out of the “Hampton by Hilton” we took the subway to the ship. Budapest boasts about it being the second oldest electrified subway in Europe, opening in 1896. The strange thing is after buying your very small ticket above ground and riding the subway. It is not until you try to leave that you have to find the very small paper ticket in one of many pockets. Two very tough looking women, probably prior East German border guards, caught the women behind us.

We find our ship Avalon Illumination (warned: don’t call it a boat) at Dock 6. The cruise line is Avalon, which has been in tourism for 100 years. They supply us with an app that gives us all the information we need. Including the time and quickest way to find the ship if we are walking around town.

This is our sea cabin. We drop our bags and head back into the city.

We cruise through the large market two blocks away. Food stalls are on the first floor. Souvenirs and such on the upper floor. I buy some pork rinds.

Nancy finds a man with a chicken. He would not answer which came first, the chicken or the egg.

These are small pastries filled with different fillings. Walnut paste was the classic. It was a bit dry but very popular. The meat shop next door had every part of a duck on display.

This shows just how big the market is. So many people selling the same souvenirs or food, you wonder how they survive.

Back to the ship for our first night onboard. We get our safety brief and meet the Captain and crew. In an emergency we are all supposed to meet on the top deck. The Danube is so shallow there is a good chance the boat would sink to the bottom and we would still be 10 feet above the water drinking our beer and wine.

Nancy and I passed up the tours that the ship set up since we had already toured the city for two days. Instead we did a walking tour with a local woman who was passionate about history. The walking tours can really get into the specifics. This courtyard had just about all the architecture styles: Baroque, Gothic, neoclassical and neo-ugly. The far building was bombed and replaced with bland architecture, which our guide aptly labeled as neo-ugly.

This is the last day of us walking 5-7 miles a day with quick stops by the hotel room. Tours on the cruise are much less. Definitely trying to walk off as many calories as we can. So much to eat and see!

This is the “Chain bridge.” The chain refers to the links between the vertical columns. The chains are like huge bicycle chain links. Very ornate and the only bridge from Buda to Pest for years. Originally open in 1849 and one of the largest bridges in the world at the time. The bridge was destroyed by retreating Germans in 1945 and reopened 1949.

Back to the ship for our embarkation at 5:30 and sailing upstream to Vilshofen, Austria.

They dock up to 3 boats side by side. This is the bow of a second ship tied along side. We left first. So they untie from us and they move back and out a little. Then we untie from the shore, and pull ahead. They immediately retie to shore at the same dock. These guys make it look easy.

[drcharadreemurr]

Rivers of dust

Frisk begins their trek through waterfall by touching the save point.

"18 left" You hear them say.

You feel a small sense of relief at the low number of waterfall. It had always been your favorite part of the underground. The quiet along with the sound of gentle flowing water had always been a reprieve for you.

Despite everything happening right now, you feel that same calmness just being here. You try your best to focus on the sounds of waterfall in order to distract yourself as Frisk enters their first battle.

Frisk's encounters with Undyne go the same as any other timeline, complete with MK getting in the way. You always found this little interactions funny, but now you fear for MK's life. You hold out some hope that Undyne would be able to put an end to the genocide.

By the time Frisk meets Gerson, they had almost met their murder goal. Gerson seemed to be unimpressed with the murderer in their shop and even charged Frisk for items. A fact they clearly didn't like judging by the scowl on their face. They bought a few items with their stolen money and finished off the last of their kills.

When they feel into the dump after the Undyne chase, you were fully expecting the mad dummy to put up the same fight it always did. But, you were shocked when it was able to fully mesh with its body and looked happy. You felt happy for the ghost, glad to have a small bit of brightness in the hell that was this-

Before you could even finish your thought, Frisk attacked, reducing the dummy to dust. You stare at the pile of dust in disbelief, you were about to say something but remember how they mercilessly killed Papyrus and simply accept what happened.

The Temmie village was abandoned, except for the shop Temmie. Frisk didn't bother to use the shop and simply left, scoffing at the lack of enemies.

Onionsan didn't appear at all this time, which was good. If they had, you were pretty sure that Frisk would have tried to kill them too. You are really getting tired of all the death.

After the long trek through waterfall, Frisk arrived at the final bridge before hotland.

The battle with Undyne, would soon be at hand.

[ithartheghost]

MOURNING ROT.

I am a moon-eyed little girl & I sentence myself each night, only to wake up by the river each morning. I am a white lilly, the damnation of all that I love. I am prey, I am a cycle. I am my father's daughter & I don't know if I can stop being his. The killing of a girl takes many forms & my body is an open wound. My body will drain me of all my blood just to be rid of what infects me; only to stain those around me.

I want to write angrily. I want to devour. I want to have a desire so grand it kills me. I want to be that straight mutt outside your door that just won't shut the fuck up. I want you to come out with a rifle & shoot me. Again, again, AGAIN. Until you're sure the job is done and you dump my body in the big trash can down the street. The word "want" is too gentle for what I feel. Lovers want, & I am anything but. I crave, I hunger, I itch. I edge to appear before your door, day after day. That stray that just won't shut the fuck up. I itch for you to kill me again & again. Not realizing it's the same kitten that comes back each evening. I itch for your bullet, your touch. I itch for you to think about me.

I say my fatal flaw is my obsession with endings, & you tell me that everything about me is fatal. And all I can tell myself is, it's your fault, it's your fault. IT'S YOUR FAULT.

[anchis-elysium]

~Welcome to Miss Anchi's elysium~

Aka, my oc roleplay blog. Where i'll be info dumping about my characters to anyone willing to listen!

Interact with my ocs as you please, and i will be sure to respond! (Unless its nsfw, nty) Ask or talk to them about anything, as yourself or as one of your ocs. Just please state who you are chatting with~

My introposts are on my other blogs, feel free to check those out if you have the time:

@missanchimissesyou — girlblog/main account

@morgu3mvp — art account

The tags for this page are:

'Anchi's Elysium𐙚⋆.˚' as the general tag

'Oc: Lunnile 🌙', 'Oc: Solaris ☀️' and so on and so forth.

Oc list, a brief summary of their lore and their symbols to recognize them by:

Lunnile Valzerkov (Present);

Lore: Lunnile is currently serving as the universal overlord, keeping corruption at bay and making sure that time and space are functioning as intended. Lunnile is the older sister of Solaris Valzerkov, she is two years older then her. Appearance wise Lunnile decided to keep her original form of a young adult female, she is 22 years old, her birthday is on march 10th. Her powers include: manipulation of most liquids, self-healing, imortality, resurrection, summoning weapons and or other objects at will, teleportation, high speed, flight, space-time manipation.

Symbol: 🌙

Lunnile Valzerkov (Past);

Lore: Before taking on the divine throne, Lunnile was a magical girl of above average power. She was created by the god [REDACTED] as a last ditch effort to save the universe. Most of her life was spent in the bleek, sterile labs of the UNRC (United Nations Research Comitee)–dealing with various tests and experiments. Later she was tasked to join the UNRC reconnaissance company, she stayed working there for a little while under the UNRCs promise to help her fufill her purpose of becoming a god. That was untill her gf was killed so she betrayed them and took continued on her quest to godhood by herself. Lunnile has most of the same powers as her god form (exept time-space manipulation.) But how does her resurrection work? Well, when Lunnile dies, her soul will be transfered to a new body that washes up by a larger body of water (oceans, lakes, rivers ect.). Due to this there is an UNRC camp near every single larger body of water in the world.

Symbol: 🌊

Solaris Valzerkov;

Lore: Solaris is the younger sister of Lunnile, she has never been an offical member of the UNRC, due to the fact that Lunnile helped her escape on the eve of Solaris' 12th birthday. Her birthdate is december 2nd. Now, she has successfully used the corruption monsters as an energy resource to build her own business empire and rebuild the slums into the most properous and thriving area of the city of Featherglow. Because of this she is known locally as the "Duchess of The Underworld".

Symbol: ☀️

Libitina Abercrombie, 'Miss Von BonBon';

Lore: Libitina, under the alias of 'Miss Von BonBon' was captain of the UNRC reconnaissance company......and was later demoted to vice-captain when Lunnile came along. There a weird rivals-to-lovers yuri forms, in which Libitina is the victim of Lunniles janky ways of showing love. Libitina is something known as a fae, a bring that is half magical girl and half corruption monster. Fae look often take tge form of various animals, so they resemble kemonomimis. Libitina died at around 16 years old, her birthday is april 4th. Her death was orchestrated by UNRC and framed as her losing her life fighting a monster, Libitinas death causes Lunnile to snap and betray the UNRC.

Symbol: 🐏

~~~

(More ocs are going to be added here later on, stay tuned~)

[richardsphere]

Leverage Redemption Log: The One Mans Trash Job

Episode starts with a man and woman fishing trash out of a river, the news called back saying that while the story did fine they dont want to cover it anymore. Cuts to two men in a car, blowing up the two peoples shrimping-boat. --- Hammond runs a trash-shipping business. (i mean that btw, i think he's literally shipping trash, there is no way that one or two containers falling of a regular shipping vessel creates this widely varied and intensely damaged floating mass). Which means the follow-up is: Why is he doing that? Its not to save money. Thats not worth blowing up a boat for. Now I remember stories about how, for various reasons, some of the first things organised crime syndicates try to get their hands on when settling into a city is its waste disposal network. (easy way to get rid of a couple of bodies or a bunch of evidence, and because your company is paid by local government, you can openly associate with crooked councilmen and have them bribe you by just increasing your budget while looking legal and above-board to casual observers) Basically: I think he's with the mob in some capacity. He's got a boat, im gonna say smuggler (he dumps the trash to make space for whatever he's smuggling) --- Back at the theatre: Im right about my first assumption (hes a waste transporter, focussed on plastic.) He's a ghost on the internet though, no facebook no nothing.

So accordint to Breanna he's taking trash, shipping it to asia, dumping half along the way, then spending money to bribe local government to dump it. At that point, why isnt he just saving the money and dumping it all at sea? Why waste the money on gas and bribes. So im 90% certain that he does make the full trip, and its what he takes back that is making him the most money (smuggler, probably drugs)

He has a storage facility that is suspiciously over-insured. (you dont insure drugs, he might be smuggling art instead)

Sophie concludes along similar lines as I do. --- Back at the docks, Parker and Elliot are on evidence-gathering. There's an auction happening, and yes those are antique art-objects he's smuggling back to the US.

Breanna is disapointed that they're going after this low-level trashdumper instead of the companies that are killing the planet. Im going to be clear here: if sophie's talks about how all we can do is little babysteps is meant to foreshadow a "regular civilians should use less plastic" thing, im gonna get pissed.

--- Complication: He has forged Provenance documentation.

Sophie just recognised an item (mahjong tiles) . And i dont mean in the "she can tell when its a Kadinski" sense, but in the "I remember these, i have a personal history with this object" sense.

Hammond's personal authenticator --- Sophie and Authenticator begin code-speaking. They have a past, there is tension but he's not gonna bust her just yet. (Name is Arthur Wilde) "you were in mesopotamia 2 years ago"= He's heard of Sophie doing something in Iran/Iraq "spent my time digging out a burmese temple"=I was trying to escape prison (tone of voice=I blame sophie) after that i lose the track but in summary: Sophie's fucked this guy over at some point. "its not what it looks like, well except for conning your boss that is exactly what it looks like." Ah yeah, he was in prison because of her. Sophie is gonna try to talk him round to their side.

Sophie takes out the earpiece. --- What do you mean "steal a printer", Sure its a special filament rather then regular PLA but its just a 3d printer. If you're telling me Hardison and Breanna dont already have a functional 3d printer im gonna be angry. But apparently we stole the printer off-screen and are already at the auction with the fake ivory tiles.

Arthur is in. (giving him the big score is Sophie's attempt at redemption for getting him thrown in prison)

Harry plays the buyer, Gives the perfect excuse for a long-distance boat-trip on which such an object may just take a dip in the sea. --- Tracking the tiles, signal broke off. Sophie is gonna have to confess her past sins.

Oh we're digging into the Duchess of Hanover lore here. This is definitly setting up a plot-arc for the season... Wait there was a duke, she fell in love with the mark... is there a kid? No way that there isnt a complication where she has a kid right? (it would let her foil both Nate's relation with Sam and Harry's relationship with Becky) --- Time for the con: Get him to lead you to the tiles. (you stole from a terrorist my dude)

I like the professionalism on our mark, mid stand-off, turnign to "Athena" about wether she's willing to occupy his imminent vacancy.

Elliot and the Mark are talking business (blackmail, "pay me or i call my boss" type of deal). McSweeten gets re-mentioned. (he's still doing nice for himself)

Mark has decided that he's gonna use the stolen tiles to pay off Harry to get the terrorist he represents to kill Elliot for him. The tiles are in motion, (and im thinking that Parker followed him to them so we know where the vault is)

--- Mark returns to his home to find the official spokesman for Terrorism Incorporated sitting in his chair.

Harry has the tiles (both the fake and the real.) which means that from now on, if we ever see the "real" tiles again, assume those are fake as well. (if we can 3d print the missing tiles, no reason not to print some fakes of the real ones for a switch)

Harry has turned on Sophie (or at least thats what the mark thinks. He's still with her, this is a staged death-scene) --- Ah, get him to think he just compromised an international terrorist. Yeah this guy is gonna rat himself right into witness protection.

Elliot mentioned McSweetens name specificly to get him to go to the higherup (can we expect an OG Actor Cameo?)

Harry takes a dive to sell the Chechen as being a small fish compared to someone. And if the Chechen is a small-fry, that means our Mark would be plankton.

We havent seen Parker in a while, also that gun was in the guys office while Harry was there waiting for him. Those are blanks --- Ah right, Harry had access to his laptop for like, an entire FBI Agent Elliot-scene. Theres a lot more you can do there then just swap some bullets.

"dont even try to call for help" before stealing his phone from an ocean away... Style. --- Scene cuts to our heroes fishing trash out of the river. New boat, money for a cleaning operation. Unfortunately no cameo from McSweeten. Arthur doesnt believe Sophie's improved herself, and leaves with a foreshadowing "i know im not the only one you betrayed back then" to say, Yup we're getting a season-long arc about the Duchess Con.