Tumgik
#i mostly just wanted to get this off my chest
xzaddyzanakinx · 3 days
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Eleven: 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, exhibitionism? If you squint, cockwarming, crying during sex(not dacryophilia),oral, no condom PiV, protected PiV, dick piercing, knife, blood, violence, gore, murder, drugs, GEN. SMUT[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]
Info: Ghost has his fantasy fun, Anakin is spiraling, chaos ensues [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+
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Date
August 24th continued
“Shh shhh.” Came from an odd voice, you hadn’t seen your attacker yet, having been swept up from behind.
You kept trying to yell, to spit out the gag as you fought him. His right hand coming back up to hold your head still and your mouth shut.
“Shut up.” He growled. “Just calm down.”
Your muffled words came out angrily, letting whoever had you like this have a piece of your mind despite them being unable to understand a word of it. Even as he started talking again you kept fighting, kept yelling to no avail.
“It’s me.” His distorted voice finally beginning to register. “It’s just me, calm down. It’s Ghost, it’s me.”
“Huh?” It came out as an awkward grunt, but he seemed to understand as you slowly stopped thrashing.
“It’s just me. It’s Ghost.” He repeated, a gentler tone now that you’d begun to calm yourself.
“Just take a deep breath through your nose doll. You’re gonna make yourself hyperventilate.” He chuckled, watching your chest heave with the effort of your labored breathing.
“If I take out this gag will you scream?” He asked, the cool plastic of his mask touching your heated cheek.
You shook your head no, then yes when he asked you to promise to it as well.
He pulled the fabric from your mouth and shoved it in his back pocket, letting you catch your breath while he loosened his grip on you slightly.
“What the hell is wrong with you!” You spun around the very second he gave you that bit of freedom and smacked him in the chest while you whisper shouted.
“A lot.” He shrugged, both hands up and out to the side as he tilted his head.
“Don’t be a smartass right now.” You chided.
“I’ll be a smartass whenever I want, princess.” he snickered, grabbing your upper arm and pulling you with him into the recessed entryway to one of the buildings beside you.
“What are you doing?” You squeaked, feeling a bit of panic despite knowing you were still probably… mostly, safe with him.
“Taking these off.” He said, dropping to his knees after pushing your back flush against the wall, yanking your panties down until they pooled at your feet.
“Gods wait! No!” You shrieked, pushing at his shoulders, he stood up immediately and gripped your cheeks tightly.
“I thought you agreed not to scream.” He growled.
“That was before I knew what you were doing!” You argued back, poking him in the chest.
“Shut the fuck up and let me have what I want alright?” He scoffed. “Don’t argue with me.”
“I have every right to argue with-“
He cut you off by shoving the bandana back in your mouth with a disappointed slow head shake and tsk. He flipped out his butterfly knife in a showy spin, ending with the blade pointed down so he could stab and drag the sharp metal through the center of your panties, ripping them off and shoving them and the knife back in his pocket.
“Now, should I get out the tape or do you think you’re capable of behaving like a good girl?” He asked condescendingly, the blacked out eyes of the mask staring up at you as he crouched down again.
You nodded, but he need clarity.
“Yes, you’ll be a good girl?” He asked, receiving a nod in response.
“You won’t touch me?” He asked, you shook your head.
“Not even if I take my mask off?”
That made you freeze, almost gaging on the fabric as you gasped. His mask? He’s taking off his mask? Is he showing you his face?
“Don’t get too excited. You aren’t seeing me.” He laughed, standing up and producing a roll of electrical tape from his pocket.
“Gimme your hands.” He said annoyedly as you jerked away from him. “You hesitated, I’m taping your wrists together.”
“Shame I can’t trust you to keep your promise.” He sighed, flipping you around and taping your wrists together tightly.
“Poor little boyfriend shouldn’t trust you to keep your legs closed either.” He snickered, you could hear the smugness in his tone even through his filtered voice.
You scowled but didn’t make an attempt to fight when he pushed your back against the wall again, dropping to his knees and flipping up the skirt of your dress.
“Leg up little doe.” He commanded, smacking your outer thigh and guiding your leg to hook over his shoulder.
“You make a move to see my face and I’ll send some of those pretty pictures to your boyfriend.” He warned before you felt his mask come off and drop to the pavement.
He took a deep breath in, his nose pressed firmly against your cunt, breathing you in and sighing in relief like a smoker does with the first cigarette on their lunch break. You noticed something then that you’d not had the opportunity to notice before. He had at least one nose piercing, you could feel the hoop dragging across your pussy lip as he pulled away.
Immediately after he went in for what he really wanted. His tongue darted out, licking a long and slow stripe up your core. A gravely tone groaned at the taste like he’d missed it since his last time.
The tip of his tongue circled and teased your clit, flicking over it quickly while his lips wrapped around it with gentle suction. You felt his arms moving and the sound of something else hitting the ground, then two warm fingers pressed against your opening.
Gathering up your slick and spreading it around before gently inserting them, slowly sinking them as deeply as he could. He didn’t pump his fingers like you expected, instead he moved his finger tips in broad swipes back and forth across your spongy front wall. The pressure of it paired with the work of his mouth created a bloom of heat in your stomach, slowly spreading throughout you as he devoured you with expert skill.
You never imagined this was were you’d end up. At no point in your life, not even in your wildest thoughts and dreams would you have guess that you’d be in an alley, hands taped behind your back, gag in your mouth, with a fully anonymous stalker lapping away between your legs.
Even less likely that you would’ve imagined enjoying it.
But damn… you were. You were enjoying it alittle too much, so much that you weren’t sure that the gag would be enough to keep you quiet. Ghost’s free hand slipped farther up your dress and pinched your side with leather fingers to quiet you.
He kept his hand there, squeezing and rubbing his thumb back and forth soothingly, lulling you into a state of relaxation as you let him do all the work. As if sensing your mind wandering off to that lovely little place, Ghost worked alittle faster with his fingers and nibbled ever so gently on your clit as he kept it held captive between his lips.
You’d give anything to have the use of you hands right now, to grip him by the hair and shove his face into you as you ground on him. All you could do was let out a muffled whine and nudge him with the heel of your foot, hoping to pull him closer with your leg.
He obliged but pinched you again just for his own self satisfaction. A humored puff of air leaving his nose when you let out an annoyed grunt, he shut you up quickly by changing his tactics from back and forth to long pressurized circles on your front wall, pressing firmly against it until you shook and whined. Your leg pushing him closer, this time of its own accord as you tensed up.
With nothing to hold onto, no way to disperse your pent up energy, all you could do was buck helplessly against his tongue and fingers, letting out an embarrassingly desperate and muffled scream from behind your gag.
He moaned while removing his fingers and wiped them off on the inside of the back of your dress. Ghost laved at you in long, lazy strokes as he cleaned up your messy cunt and soaked inner thighs.
He reluctantly put his glove back on, as well as his mask, rising up from beneath your skirt to tower over you.
“Turn around, face the wall.” He said, the filter voice low and crackly.
You nodded, obeying immediately and were rewarded with the removal of your bindings. His knife slicing through the tape with ease, after closing it and tucking it away he inspected them to make sure he hadn’t hurt you, letting you have free range of movement after a moment.
Your hand flew to your mouth and you attempted to pull the fabric from between your lips but his firm grip caught your wrist.
“I’ll tape you right back up.” He warned. “I made you scream and I plan on doing it again.”
His chest pressed against your back, pinning you to the brick wall, uncomfortably but not painfully. His mask pressed against the side of your face and one of his hands squeezed and kneaded at your breasts, his other fumbled with his belt.
You heard his zipper come undone just before he flipped up the back of your dress. He dragged his precum covered tip along the soft flesh of your ass, his breathing changing slightly.
“You can take out the gag for now.” He said, watching you pull it out and cough.
“Y-you gotta- just wait-“
“Shhh I’ve got a condom.” He laughed pulling it out and showing you before ripping it open and rolling it on.
“Spread ‘em baby.” He cooed, kicking your legs apart and pulling your waist away from the wall slightly.
“Ghost-“ you breathed out, starting to panic. “Ghost I can’t, we can’t.”
“You can’t, we can’t…” he chuckled. “I can though.”
He hummed, pressing the tip against your dripping entrance, you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing back against him lightly. The movement was almost unconsciously made, but it was enough of an invitation for him to accept.
“Deep breath baby.” He breathed out, pushing inside slowly and letting out a groan that sounded almost pained.
“Oh…” you whimpered, biting your lip. You were determined not to show how much you truly loved the way he fit inside, like he belonged there despite everything else.
“Fuck… this, this is mine.” He growled, thrusting up into you slowly but hard each time his hips met your ass.
“N-no.” You shook your head, a quiet disagreement leaving your lips.
“Seems like it’s mine.” He growled, “Don’t it, doll?” He asked rhetorically, rolling his hips against you to drive home his point.
“Anakin’s.” You whined, clenching your fists tightly as your forearms kept you from scraping against the wall.
He growled but said nothing, just changed pace to a brutal deep stroke that had his cockhead kissing your cervix with every thrust.
“He f-fucks me better than this.” You gasped.
“Oh does he?” Ghost laughed loudly.
“He does…” you whined as he reached up beneath your dress to cruelly pinch and twist your nipple.
“Shut up before I put that gag back in.” He snapped.
“Jus’ being honest.” Though you couldn’t hide the way your body was responding to him, to the delicious roughness he was treating you to.
“That’s enough.” He barked, his hand leaving your breast to grip your hair tightly, tilting your head back.
“Ow!” You squealed, not expecting him to react like that.
“Don’t act like you didn’t like it. I felt it.” He snickered, smacking your ass as he pointed out how your cunt clenched around him when he tugged your hair.
“But-“
“Close your eyes.” He commanded.
“Wait, why?” You questioned, trying to look behind you.
“Because I fucking told you to.” He snapped, pulling your hair harshly.
You whimpered and complied, feeling a leather hand come up your throat, stopping with two fingers resting on your bottom lip.
“Bite.” His voice so low and sultry the voice modifier struggled to pick it up, the crackle of it, the possibility you might hear his real voice if you could just get him to talk quietly enough, just made you more excited.
You bit down on the tips of the fingers, de-gloving his hand. You were tempted to open your eyes even the tiniest bit, hoping for a fleeting glance of his uncovered flesh. Though he anticipated your thoughts before you could enact them.
His other hand hooked the thumb into the side of your mouth, his palm and fingers splayed out against your face to protect you as he rested the forehead of his mask against your other cheek, effectively pinning your head in place.
He chuckled, shaking his head as he reached between your legs and pinched your clit, making you yelp.
“Stupid girl.” He laughed. “Just be still and enjoy it.” He groaned, his cock bullying your insides as his fingers did the same to your clit.
“You want to cum don’t you?”
“Uh huh.” You whined, your eyebrows furrowed.
“Then behave.” He growled.
He drilled up into you, the confined space echoing the smacking of wet skin against skin. His breathing heavy, unlike yours that came in short gasps and sharp intakes of air between squeaky whines.
“Listen to you, pretty little moans.” He laughed. “But you’re pretending you don’t love how I’m fucking you.”
“Acting like anyone else could make you feel like this.” He grunted, punctuating each word with a particularly deep plunge of his length.
“He can!” You whined in protest, squirming beneath him. “Love it when he fucks me.”
“You wanna cum? Keep talking like that and we’ll see how long I make you wait.”
“D-don’t care.” You slurred, his thumb in your mouth making you drool from the side of your mouth.
“Okay.” He laughed, removing fingers from your clit and slowing his thrusting.
“N-no!” You whined, reaching down to grab his hand and stop him. As you gripped his hand you felt two chunky rings on his hand, though you were unable to tell which fingers they belonged to.
“Now you’ve done it.” He growled.
He withdrew from your swollen and needy pussy, hastily pulling up his boxers but not bothering to fix his pants. He twisted you to the side and bent you over, and let go of your face in favor of gripping your hair tightly again.
“Brace yourself bitch.” He growled, his gloveless hand pushing up your skirt again and bringing his palm down on your asscheek hard, a resound *smack* followed by a loud moan that surprised even you.
“Does princess like a little pain with her pleasure?” He teased, bringing his hand down on your ass again.
You didn’t answer, just focusing on biting back another moan when he waled on you twice in quick succession.
“I asked you a question.” He growled, yanking your hair and forcefully lifting your head.
“Yes.” You hissed, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from the pain, but mostly the humiliation of having to admit that you liked it, that you wanted more.
“Good.” He chuckled, roughly bringing you up to stand on your own two feet again.
Ghost shoved his fist back into his glove with his back to you, wordlessly pointing at the wall. So you obeyed, turning around with your eyes downcast and shameful.
“Lift up your skirt. I wanna see my handprints.” Ghost’s voice came out low and crackly through the modifier.
You did as he asked, both hands pulling up the fabric in the back, exposing the red welted handprint on your right asscheek. He took a sharp inhale of breath as he looked you over, his sneakers crunching on the pavement as crouched down a few feet behind you.
“Say cheese.” He snickered, snapping a picture with the flash on.
“Damn, look at that baby.” He whistled, standing up and pressing himself against your back, his hard cock throbbing through his boxers.
He showed you the picture, the flash showing off the sheen of slick that coated your inner thighs, something he was extremely proud of.
“You should get that tattooed.” He sounded almost serious when he suggested it, only solidifying the sentiment by adding: “I’ll pay for it.”
“Im not getting your handprint tattooed.” You snapped at him.
“No? What about my teeth?” He asked, audibly gnashing his teeth together behind the mask.
“You’re ridiculous.” You scoffed, “I can’t-“
“If you’re gonna be a brat then shut the fuck up.” He growled, shoving the bandana back in your mouth. Your hands instinctively went to pull it out but he only laughed and swatted them away.
“I’ll tape you back up.” He warned you again. “But it’d be a lot easier to fuck you if you could hold on to me.”
He grunted, picking you up and supporting your weight with one arm while his free hand pulled his length back out from his boxers.
“Gonna hold you like this okay?” He said in a gentler tone, spreading your legs wide and out to the sides of your torso, his hands gripping you firmly in the crook of your knees.
“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not gonna drop you.” He grumbled.
“Now arms up princess.” He commanded, shrugging his shoulders twice to prompt you to wrap your arms around his neck.
“Watch.” He growled, looking down where your bodies would connect, his cockhead sliding back and forth through your slicked swollen folds.
“Gods thats fucking gorgeous.” He groaned, pushing into you slowly.
He was making sure you saw every inch of him disappear inside, the position you were in allowed you to feel, see, and hear everything. Amplifying the squelching of your cunt, providing the perfect angle for him to bully your pussy in just the right ways, and giving you an unobstructed view of your illicit act.
“Been thinkin’ bout fucking you like this for so long.” Not even his modified voice could hide his desperation and longing.
“So goddamn pretty.” He choked out, thrusting up into you, his hips slapping your inner thighs. “All laid out for me, this pretty pussy being so damn needy for me.”
“Look at you.” He breathed out, his voice a bit shaky. “Just look at how wet you are, fuck.”
His leathered fingers dug into your flesh, the rough surface of the brick picked and tugged at your dress. It bit into your skin, adding an element of consistent pain that you weren’t expecting, but had no complaints about.
“Do something useful and play with your clit for me.” He chuckled, watching as you helplessly took the beating he was doling out.
You nodded quickly and followed orders, your fingers putting pressure on the little nub. You rubbed quick circles, feeling the already tight coil in your stomach constrict again, getting tighter and tighter as he built you up to orgasm.
“Oh… feels good huh?” Ghost laughed, rolling his hips against you.
You answered a muffled ‘yes’, your eyebrows pinched together tightly as you concentrated on the warm, fuzzy feeling that bubbled just under the surface within you.
“Shit.” He grunted leaning forward and drilling into you while letting out a desperate, barely modified, high-pitched whine.
“Gods this pussy’s just too damn good.” He groaned, leaning back again to watch as he felt your stomach tighten.
“You gonna cum for me?” He asked.
You were having trouble remembering to breathe, how did he expect you to form a coherent enough thought to give him a simple nod in response? You made pitiful whimpering noises, stopped in their tracks by your gag every time. Though it seemed to be enough of an answer for Ghost.
“Damn right.” He doubled down, thrusting up in a brutal pace that made your nipples harden and your back arch.
His fast paced movements not only pushed you both closer to the edge, but also pushed the hem of his hoodie up. It was slowly riding up from where he’d tugged it down to his hips.
“Fuck.” He groaned. “Eyes up.” He barked, his annoyance at the situation was palpable in the way his thrusts switched from calculated and precise to messy, angry snaps of his hips against your thighs.
“Don’t you fucking test me girl.” Ghost growled, pressing your legs alittle harder against the wall when your eyes darted downward again.
Your pussy fluttered around his throbbing length, squeezing him tightly while your fingertips bit into his shoulders through the thick fabric of his hoodie. Your whines and moans matching his desperate breath.
“Jesus- look at me damnit!” He barked your eyes snapping up to stare into the black holes of his mask. “Cant listen to simple instructions, are you stupid?”
You shook your head, immediately responding to his insult in a futile attempt to defend your intelligence. You could almost hear the smile behind his mask when he felt your cunt squeeze him alittle tighter.
“You might not have been dumb before, but you sure as hell are now.” Ghost grumbled, determined to exploit your newfound enjoyment of his humiliation. “Stupid bitch. Legs all spread for me, moaning like a fucking pornstar and drooling over my cock.”
“So fucking stupid that you like it when I insult you.” He laughed, “Poor little girl turned into a cockwhore the first time a real man fucks her.”
“All you’ve got in that tiny brain of yours is me.” He said and of course he was right. He was always right.
“There we go. Atta girl baby.” He breathed out, watching you fall apart against him. Leaning forward just a bit while your hand worked faster between your bodies.
You glanced down momentarily and caught just the tiniest sliver of black ink on the pale skin of his abdomen. His reaction was immediate; his right hand tossing your leg over his shoulder and his torso pressed against yours.
You heard a click and snap just before feeling something sharp and cold poking the side of your neck. Your eyes widened when you realized he’d pulled his knife on you, or maybe it was because the quick switch-up in angles and the dangerous position you’d gotten yourself into excited you enough to make you come undone.
He watched, shaking his head slightly while you convulsed against him, suffering through the pleasurable pain of one of the most intense orgasms of your life.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with you?” He panted, “I can’t even threaten you without your pussy getting drenched.”
His thrusts became desperate and needy, having taken care of you first, he was quick to follow. He let his knife fall to the pavement with a clatter so he could wrap his hand around your neck instead.
“It was hot though.” He chuckled, pressing his chest against yours as his hips stuttered, he filled up the condom with a low, reedy groan. Slowly thrusting into you a few more times before reluctantly pulling out.
“Close your eyes and don’t you dare think about opening them. I’ll knock your fucking lights out, you hear me?” He growled, his mask nuzzled into the crook of your neck, he felt you nod in agreement so he gingerly guided one of your legs back to the ground.
Leaning back to ensure you kept your promise while he tugged his hoodie back down and tucked away his cock. He then carefully helped you down, laughing at the way you wobbled on unsteady legs as he zipped and buttoned his jeans, fastening his belt hastily.
You pulled out the gag and took a long gulp of fresh air, trying to process everything that had happened. It felt like hours had gone by but as you checked your phone you realized it had only been about twenty minutes.
“C’mere little doe.” Ghost said softly tucking his knife away in his back pocket. “You okay?”
“Y-yeah.” You swallowed hard and complied, letting him wrap you in a comforting hug.
“Do you want me to walk you home?” He asked, even quieter.
“You want to walk me home?” You asked in surprise.
“I’m going to regardless of whether you say yes or no. Do you want me to walk with you or do you want me to hide out in the shadows like I usually do?” He asked, swaying you slightly in the embrace.
“Walk with me.” You answered quietly, too tired to pretend you didn’t want his company.
“Good girl.” He nodded, releasing you partially.
Keeping an arm slung around your shoulders he guided you down the dark alleyway and back out onto the sidewalk. With his hood up and his head down, you walked together silently, listening to the city night sounds while the weight of your situation pressed down on your chest.
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Diary Entry: August 25th
I’ve went and got myself into a fucking problem again. Will I ever learn? Probably not.
My need to keep you placated enough that you won’t absolutely despise me when you find out who I am… kept me from fully fulfilling my fantasy. Everything we did was perfect baby, that’s not what I mean. I just mean I’m gonna have to do it again and hope you’ll forgive me later.
Not to mention how DIFFICULT it is to fuck you as myself now that I’ve learned a few of the little things that make you tick. I wanna rip into you, I want to devour you whole, I want to fuck you so hard that the ER nurses will be jealous when they’re bringing you back from the stupor I put you in.
Gods, I didn’t think I’d ever see you splayed out on the wall like that for me but I’m so fucking glad I did. Ever since the first time I thought of it I haven’t stopped. So beautiful, you’re so beautiful. How can I be expected to not be wholly and fully obsessed with you when you’re so perfect?
How am I supposed to pretend that I don’t want to press a blade to your throat while I make love to you nice and slow, in my bed? Christ… I knew you’d show Ghost a different side to you, but I didn’t expect you to like that. Not at all.
It’s got me wondering what else you’d like. If only I wasn’t so worried about your opinion of me, maybe then I’d test some things out.
Also, your opinion of me… you little brat. You’ve stopped writing about me in your diary. It’s like you’re trying to make me angry. Do you think that’ll get you what you want?
It won’t.
You see one little sliver of skin and you think you can cold shoulder me into giving away who I am? I’m not finished with my fun yet. Maybe if you’d listen to me you’d get what you wanted sooner.
But no. Of course not. You are a brat after all, whiny and needy and stupid enough to think that misbehaving will get you anywhere.
Have you met me? When have I ever let you get away with shit before?
I’d like to scrub that image from your brain. I’d like to yank out the memory of my rings too, did you have to grab my hand like that? You’re stupid, but I’m a fucking moron. I should’ve put them in my pocket like I normally do. I was too busy trying to get where I needed to be to properly prepare.
Sloppy work Ghost… or Anakin. Both. Sloppy.
I took out my snake bites. I took out my cock ring. I haven’t had my tongue ring in for quite a while now, have you ever seen me with it? I don’t think you have…
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DATE
August 26th
Anakin’s tongue had just invaded your mouth, swirling and caressing every centimeter of yours that he could comfortably get to. His lips caught against yours in a sticky, loving, slow kiss.
When a knock at your door rudely interrupted your make-out session on your couch.
“Fuck.” He groaned, patting your hip to signal for you to get up from his lap. “Can you get it baby? I don’t think the delivery guy wants to see my boner as much as you do.”
“Yes I’ll get the door.” You laughed, covering your mouth while you glanced over your shoulder at him, his hand down the front of his sweatpants to reposition himself.
“Hey.” you smiled, opening up the door to greet the pizza guy, a short scruffy looking dude with dark circles and stubble.
“Hey hon.” He grinned, “you paid online right?”
“Yep, sure did.” You nodded, holding out your hand with some ones. “I always tip in cash though.”
“Ah, thanks.” He smiled, taking it from you and tucking it into his pocket.
“Um… can I have the pizza now?” You laughed, holding out both hands awkwardly.
“Oh shit, yeah.” He awkwardly handed it over with a blush to his cheeks. “Sorry, got distracted… you’re just really pretty.”
His voice was quiet and small as he ogled over your body, all the way down to your fuzzy pink slippers, his eyes soaking in the image of your white cropped tank top and baby blue silky shorts, a pajama set Anakin had bought you not too long ago.
“Oh uh…” You stuttered nervously, looking over your shoulder you saw Anakin making a fast approach to the door.
His arm wrapped around your waist, one large hand splaying across the exposed skin of your stomach. His lips placed a chaste kiss to your shoulder before he turned his head and nuzzled into your neck, leaving a wet and sloppy kiss to the tender flesh. It seemed like he just couldn’t help himself as he pressed his cock against your ass, he needed this guy to not only know you were taken, but also to feel as uncomfortable as he could manage.
“C’mon princess,” Anakin’s voice low and gravely as he unashamedly staked his claim over you. “I’ve lost my appetite for pizza, found something else I’d rather eat.”
“S-sorry I’m sorry.” The delivery guy stammered, turning quickly with a red faced, shocked expression as he hightailed it away from your door.
Anakin’s other arm looped around your waist, pulling you back into the apartment, his foot coming up to kick the door closed while he laughed.
“Anakin!” You squealed, wiggling out of his grasp and setting the pizza box down on the kitchen counter. “Poor guy, you’ve traumatized him.” You giggled.
“His fault.” He shrugged, pulling you back against him with one hand on the back of your neck.
“Shouldn’t have interrupted my kisses, shouldn’t have flirted with my girl.” He mumbled against your lips, his other hand growing tired of caressing your breasts through the fabric of your top.
His grip on the back of your neck tightened while his free hand tugged up the hem of your top, pulling it past the swell of your breasts and exposing the sensitive flesh for his mouth to latch onto. His lips left yours in favor of pulling and sucking on your hardened nipple, not leaving your other unattended, his fingers working away by pinching and tweaking it.
“Damnit… Anakin.” You whined, pushing his head back.
“Don’t interrupt me sweetheart, I told you I was hungry.” He chuckled.
“For pizza!” You yelped, his teeth gently but unexpectedly bit down on your nipple.
“That was before some twerp tried to sweet talk my baby.” He growled.
“Hush, no one could ever sweet talk me away from you.” You breathed out carding your fingers through his hair.
“Oh? Is that so?” He asked a bit sharper in tone than he normally used with you.
“Of course Ani.” You whispered, eyebrows furrowing in a bit of confusion. What was he talking about? There’s no possible way he could know about Ghost.
He looked up at you from his point of attack as he slowly rose to his feet. Hooking his fingers under your top, he pulled it up again, prompting you to lift your arms so he could take it off. You let him, seeing a shift in his eyes from desire to feral need; a need for possession.
“Let’s get these off.” He whispered, dragging his tongue down the length of your abdomen, his hands helping you step out of your panties and shorts.
He placed a gentle, warm kiss to your mound before straightening himself up again, grabbing the pizza box and the back of your neck again to walk you over to the couch.
With the pizza box on the coffee table, he stripped down bare and opened up the curtains of your big living room window.
“What are you doing?” You asked with a slight laugh.
“If someone wants to look at you, then they can look while I’m balls deep inside.” He said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer while he settled himself on the couch with his legs spread comfortably.
He held you steady with one hand on your waist, leaning forward to trace a wet circle around your navel with his tongue while his fingers spread your folds to run his fingers through and gather up your arousal.
“Turn around baby,” he said softly. “Sit on my cock like a good girl okay?”
You straddled his thighs backwards, his thumbs peeling your asscheeks apart to get a good look as your glistening cunt opened up and took his cock like it was made just for him. His cockhead breached your entrance, the thick metal ball of his jewelry massaging your inner walls while he held you still so he could slowly thrust up into you with short strokes.
“My pussy.” He breathed out, pushing in alittle deeper. “So fucking wet and I didn’t even have to touch you first. All it took was a good kiss huh?”
“Y-yeah.” You nodded, your hands on his knees to keep your balance.
“That’s right.” He nodded, confidence dripping from his voice. “Now settle down on it.”
You lowered yourself slowly, taking in each tortuous inch until he was fully sheathed inside. The position making you feel full in ways you hadn’t before, it put a fair amount of pressure against your front, adding an extra bit of stimulation. You tried to rock back and forth on him, expecting him to want you to do exactly that, but he stopped you.
“No.” Anakin was gruff when he spoke, “You sit still, don’t move unless I tell you to. I think you need a reminder of who you belong to.”
“Oh… okay.” You nodded rapidly, your pussy contracted around him, earning a dark chuckle from the man behind you.
“Now let’s eat.” He said nonchalantly, gesturing for you to get a slice of pizza for the both of you while he picked up the remote and selected a slasher film.
“Really?” You asked in surprise.
“Yes really.” He scoffed, “I’m hungry, as much as I’d love to be able to sustain myself off your pussy, I can’t.”
“You’re impossible.” You shook your head, leaning forward while he kept ahold of you so that you could retrieve a slice for the both of you.
“Thanks sweetheart.” He said, casual as ever after taking a bite.
He rested his chin on your shoulder and his idle hand on your stomach, rubbing his thumb across your skin soothingly, despite his palm putting a bit of pressure there.
Despite your boyfriend being, like he said: ‘balls deep’ inside you, your thoughts kept drifting to Ghost. You knew somewhere in this room there was a camera, and somewhere out in the world there was a man seething in anger over what you were doing.
Sitting naked, curtains open, spread out and speared on your boyfriend’s dick while you both ate pizza and watched a movie.
You found it harder and harder to sit still, feeling uncomfortable not only from the thickness lodged in your cunt, but from the all seeing, all knowing gaze of Ghost. It only got worse when Anakin’s hand drifted down a bit further to tease and flick your clit.
“Ani please…” you whined, trying your very best not to squirm.
“Please what?” He asked, chewing a bite as he spoke out of the corner of his mouth.
“It’s not fair.” You complained, “don’t touch me if you’re not gonna let me move.”
“Excuse me?” His voice deep and dangerous as all his movements froze.
“W-what?” You asked, glancing over your shoulder to see a scowl on his face.
“Repeat yourself.” He asked in a stern but calm tone.
“Well I didn’t- that’s not what I meant I-“
“Say it again.” He prodded.
“It’s not fair?” You whispered, avoiding the part you knew he was referring to.
“Nope, not that.” He said, tossing his half eaten slice of pizza back into the box and doing the same to yours.
“Don’t touch me?” You asked, your voice not coming out nearly as collected as you attempted for it to.
“That’s what I thought you said.” He grunted, removing his hands from your hips and lacing his fingers together behind his head.
“If you wanna move, move.” He challenged. “Just don’t expect any help from me princess. This is all you.”
“What?” You squeaked.
“You told me not to touch you.” He shrugged.
“Anakin! I didn’t mean it like that!” You whined, slowly rising and turning around to face him.
You stared for a minute, distracted from your original mission by the sight of his cock throbbing, coated in your slick, the pretty blushed tip hugging the top ball of the jewelry you loved so much.
“If you want it so bad then get on it and fuck me.” He laughed, a big smug grin on his lips.
“Well, sorry that I find my boyfriend extremely hot.” You snorted. “You’re just so… yummy.”
“Yummy?” His smile only getting bigger as you fueled his ego.
“Mhm.” You nodded, a little smirk on your lips as you put your hands on his chest to balance yourself while you slowly sunk back down on his length.
You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief from being full of him again. When it came to Anakin you were insatiable, he knew you like that back of his hand, every touch, kiss and movement was choreographed to your liking.
Now he was going to make you work for it after all this time of letting you be a pretty little pillow princess? How unfair.
“Yummy.” You said again, starting to rock back and forth on him, circling your hips and rising just slightly. “You’re so pretty.”
You leaned forward, kissing his chest and snaking your hands up into his hair, tugging lightly but focusing on gentle fingertips carding through his hair. Your lips took a path straight up the column of his throat, hot, open mouthed kisses placed back to back along the inked skin.
Dragging your tongue along the underside of his jaw and enveloping the small black stud on his earlobe with your lips, sucking on it only to pull away.
“C’mon sweetheart you can do better than that.” He groaned, obviously fighting an internal battle with himself, his muscles flexed in his forearms as he squeezed his hands together tightly.
“I like it like this.” You sighed, riding him as slowly as possible, letting your head fall back as you teased him by touching yourself.
“Oh- fuck, baby…” he whined, watching as you cupped both your breasts and pulled at your nipples in sync, putting on a show for him.
You felt his cock twitch at the sight of you taking charge over him, reminding you of the first time you he ‘made love’ to you. His face was pitiful and pained, he looked so needy.
“Poor little Ani.” You teased, poking out your bottom lip.
“Baby please, fuck me for real.” He huffed, trying not to buck up into you.
“I don’t know how, I forgot. You spoiled me for too long.” You giggled, bouncing on him just a bit faster for only a few seconds.
“Gods-“ he gritted his teeth together so tightly you were worried he might crack a tooth. “You can do it princess, c’mon fuck me.”
“Like this?” You asked sweetly, your voice innocent and teasing.
You lifted and pushed back down on him faster, a bit harder, while still circling your hips. Hands leaving your breasts in favor of cupping his face and tilting his head back slightly.
“Y-yeah that’s it.” He nodded, sucking in his bottom lip, tucking it behind his top row of teeth as he closed his eyes tightly.
“Better?” You whispered, your hands leaving his face to return to his chest, pinching his nipples just to see how he’d react.
“Christ-“ he sucked in a sharp breath of air, his eyes flying open to look down at your hands, your fingertips squeezing the little hardened nubs. “Shit sweetheart…”
“You like it?” You asked him with a bit of surprise.
“I-yeah I think I do.” He chuckled, choking on air when you leaned down and enveloped one between your lips biting down like he’d done to you.
“I take it back… I know I like it.” He breathed out shakily.
With newfound confidence you rode him in earnest, soaking in every moan and whimper he let loose and letting it fuel the fire in your belly.
“That’s it, just like that.” He grunted, his head resting on the back of the couch as he moved his arms down, flexing his hands at his sides to keep them busy.
You slowed down to tease him, to hear him whimper. And he did, he looked up at you like you’d kicked a puppy when you broke your rhythm that had him hurtling toward the edge.
“Why?” He hiccuped, his eyebrows knitted together while he tongued at his lip piercings anxiously.
“Cause I wanted to.” You giggled, taking pride in the way you had him under your thumb.
“Brat.” He grumbled, “c’mon fuck me, you know how to fuck me baby.”
He was loosing patience and loosing it quickly. He thrusted up slightly and stopped himself from doing more by groaning loudly and biting down on his fist.
“You wanna cum?” You asked, low and seductive.
“Goddamnit.” He sucked in a sharp breath when you purposely clenched around him rhythmically, licking at his nipples again.
“Yes, please, please I want to.” He whined, covering his eyes with his arm.
“You want to? Or need to?” You teased him, nipping at his Adam’s apple.
“Sweetheart,” he growled, “please.”
“Aw Anakin, you didn’t answer my question.” You pouted, slowing down slightly.
“Fuck!” He grunted, his face heating up at your self satisfied giggle. “I need to. I need to cum, please!”
“See? Just needed to answer a simple question.” You cooed, returning to your previous pace.
“That’s real fucking rich coming from you, little-“ He held his breath, stopping his words from coming out, instead letting out a whine that bordered on a sob.
“Please.” He panted, “princess please just- faster.”
“Well since you asked so nicely.” You said with a smug grin, complying with his request and moving just a bit faster.
“Make me cum.” He gritted out, baring his teeth and trying not to grab you, both hands hovering at your waist. “C’mon fuck the cum out of me sweetheart, you can do it, you know how to do it.”
His words had you falter in your movements, he sounded so desperate, so needy, he was able to make you feel desired in ways no one else ever had before and it made you want to give him everything he needed and more.
“Fuck this shit.” He growled, gripping you tightly and ramming up into you, making you gasp and hold onto his shoulders for dear life.
“Takin’ too damn long, not doing what I asked, teasing me…” he grunted, driving up hard and fast. “Can’t stand it anymore.”
“Fuck… yeah scratch me.” he chuckled, feeling your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you hiccuped for air. “Mark me up princess.”
“God you feel so good.” He let out a shaky breath, his forehead in the crook of your neck. “Play with your clit, cum for me.”
“M’not gonna last much longer baby.” He whined and you thought you felt something hot and wet drip down onto your skin.
“Ani?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Hmm?” He sniffled, not lifting his head.
“Are you okay?” You asked quietly, wishing he’d slow down and look at you. “Are you crying?”
“Damnit.” He hiccuped, nodding his head and letting out a long held breath against your flushed skin. “Fuck… m’fine.”
“But-“
“Shhh- shut up.” He said quietly. “Just- just need you.”
He trailed kisses along your skin, sucking at the crook of your neck and nibbling there, doing his damndest to give you a massive hickey. You didn’t have the willpower to stop him and ask him to pick another place.
“I need you, need to feel you, need to be with you.” His voice shook, as he whispered into your skin, his lips grazing against your earlobe with each word.
“Don’t ever wanna lose you.” He pulled you flush against his chest, fisting your hair and squeezing your middle tightly as he leaned back, taking you with him. “You’re my girl, mine.”
“Fuck.” He sobbed, clutching at your body, at any piece of you he could reach as he relentlessly thrusted up into you. “Shit, shit, shit I’m gonna cum.” He breathed out, hot and heavy.
“I-I… baby I love you.” He confessed, a pitiful whimper leaving his trembling lips as he pulled back enough for you to see his red rimmed eyes just before he devoured you in a kiss.
He moaned into your mouth, holding you tightly as he fucked his cum deep inside your cunt, the shock of his confession, the confusion of his tears and the warmth of his seed coating your walls had you coming apart at the seams along with him.
You didn’t know what to say, you didn’t know what to feel, guilty that’s for certain, but otherwise? You were an emotional wreck. All you could do was kiss him. Kiss him and touch him and ride out your high in little movements while he tries to catch his breath and wipe his tears.
“You don’t have to say it back.” He whispered, pushing your sweaty hair away from your face. “I just needed you to know.”
“I-it’s not that I just… are you okay?” You asked gently, climbing off him and letting him cuddle you up next to him and wrap a blanket around the both of you.
“I’m fine sweetheart.” He nodded, pressing his nose into your hair and breathing in the scent of you. “I got overwhelmed I guess.”
“It’s a big feeling and I feel it extra big for you.” He said softly, petting your hair and scratching your scalp lovingly.
“Yeah, you’re right.” You nodded, laying your head on his chest and feeling his warmth. “Big, big feeling.” You whispered, trying to hold in the flow of tears that threatened to burst out for several reasons, some including Anakin and some including someone else.
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Diary Entry: August 26th
I ask myself again: will I ever fucking learn? No. The answer is no, I will not.
Let’s listen the things I did horribly wrong last night shall we?
I should’ve just decked the pizza guy like I wanted to. I would’ve if it wouldn’t have scared you.
I almost called you something I shouldn’t.
I cried like a little bitch baby. What the hell was that Anakin? What kind of guy cries (not the good kind of tears) while he fucks his girlfriend? Not me! Not me, that’s not me! God that was so fucking stupid, I can’t believe I did that. Worried you like that. I just couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop it.
I couldn’t stop myself from telling you I love you either.
So. It’s safe to say that I’ve officially lost my shit.
You didn’t say it back. Why didn’t you say it back? Am I not enough? Have I split you in half like I’ve done to myself?
Maybe you just think it’s too soon. I mean, really it is for any normal relationship. But our relationship isn’t normal at all. You could paint it and position it any way you wanted and it still wouldn’t look right.
You can’t leave me. Please, please, please don’t leave me. I don’t want to scare you off. I can’t… I couldn’t live without you. So I can’t see you as Ghost until I’ve sorted myself out. No matter how badly I want to.
I probably shouldn’t even see you as myself until I’ve taken care of my head.
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DATE
August 27th
Anakin laid flat on his back, the furniture in his living room pushed against the wall so that he could spread out like a starfish on the soft rug. He told you he worked tonight even though he didn’t. He told you he’d see you tomorrow even though he wasn’t sure that he would. He told you he loved you even though you didn’t say it back.
He had spent every minute since you’d fallen asleep last night researching and compiling information about a guy neither of you knew. He had spent every second manually breathing to keep himself centered and calm enough so that he wouldn’t shake with anger as he read each new tidbit of information.
He had everything ready. He was ready.
Anakin sighed and stood up slowly, brushing off imaginary dirt from his black jeans. Stopping near his living room window to pick up his small black backpack, then he climbed down the fire escape toward the more populated, less watched area of the city.
The place where you go to get meth on the street corner. The houses where the windows are cracked and the front porch light flickers. Where the night noises make you walk alittle faster, hold your keys alittle tighter.
The place where a police officer’s druggie son gets away with selling pills to highschoolers.
His freshly bought throwaway Goodwill sneakers crunched against the crumbling sidewalk, a small paint-chipped house came into view. Anakin had walked this far without seeing a single soul since he’d tied a certain bandana across his face. And of course when he’s within 30ft of his destination some half dressed middle aged man with a beer gut is out in his front lawn walking his tiny mutant chihuahua.
Anakin kept his head down and walked straight past the house he was meant to be at. Grumbling about his luck and how he didn’t have time for any more delays. Deciding to take the back way and hop the fence instead of entering through the side basement window like he’d originally planned.
After his extra 5 minutes of walking he’d looped around to the correct house’s backyard and scaled the the rickety wooden fence with a little more noise than he wanted.
“At least the idiot left his door unlocked.” He mumbled, looking at the back door that was propped open with a rubber boot. The screen door closed but without a handle or latch.
He walked in, the screen door creaking open with a loud screech that had Anakin cursing himself for not bringing his WD-40.
“Kyle?” A slurred and drunken voice called out from somewhere in the living room.
“You’re like a whole hour early man.” The pizza delivery guy, Joel Hampton, choked out as he flicked cigarette ash into a tray on the coffee table.
“I’m right on time.” Anakin’s voice came from behind him, both of his hands coming down on his shoulders to lift him up and out of the recliner.
“Jesus! What the hell?!” Joel kicked and tried to wrestle himself away from Anakin, clumsy and halted half-movements that only had him stumbling.
“Where’s your gun?” Anakin growled, flipping out his knife and dragging Joel across the dirty laminate floor by his hair. “I know you have one. Where is it?”
“Fuck man! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Joel yelped, Anakin’s knife blade pressed against his throat.
“You have a pistol.” Anakin repeated, his face coming down to get on Joel’s level, “Where. Is. It?”
“W-why? Why’re you doing this? If you want drugs I’ll give ‘em to you man!” He squealed, Anakin yanking him back to his feet and steering him toward the kitchen.
“Oh how convenient.” Anakin chuckled, dragging Joel over to his kitchen sink and pushing his head down in the dirty water sitting stagnant with the night’s dishes.
Joel flailed his arms, landing and elbow to Anakin’s ribs that only served to piss him off more, so he pulled him from the water and tossed him to the ground watching him sputter and gasp for breath.
“Where is it Joel?”
“How do you know my name?” He coughed, slinking back across the tile to corner himself against the cabinets.
“Your dad’s name is Fredrick Hampton, he just got a promotion down at the 5th precinct. Your mommy Linda is a cashier at the Quik-Stop down the road, where you do your week day deals to the kids from the highschool. You got mono and were in the hospital for a week last year and your family dog died two months ago.” Anakin listed these things off like he’d been rehearsing it. “And yesterday, you delivered pizza to me and my girlfriend.”
“N-no, no you’re that guy?” He squeaked.
“Yeah. I’m that guy.” Anakin said. “Now, give me your gun and I’ll make this quick or don’t and I’ll make it messy.”
“You’re gonna kill me over that?” He sputtered, trying to stand up. “I didn’t even do nothing!”
“I was bored anyway.” Anakin snapped, throwing a strong right hook to Joel’s cheek.
“Do you think it’d be more believable if you killed yourself or if you got jumped by some druggies in your own house?” Anakin snorted. “I’m fine with both. You’re gonna die either way.”
“Kill myself?” Joel spat on the tile, holding his jaw, “what the hell are you talking about?”
“Your gun you fucking idot.” Anakin barked, “are you daft? I need your pistol to blow your fucking brains out, it’s not like you’re using ‘em anyway.”
“Do you want it slow and painful or quick and easy?” Anakin asked angrily, “C’mon I’m giving you a choice, that’s a thing I do now, don’t make me regret it.”
“Neither!” Joel yelled, finally getting up and sloppily throwing a punch to Anakin’s gut.
“Really?” Anakin laughed. “Alright.”
“S’okay I like it messy.” Anakin whispered tossing his knife on the kitchen table and picking Joel up by the back of his head and the center of the back of his shirt.
“Kyle’s supposed to be here in an hour?” Anakin asked casually, bringing Joel’s face down on the wooden table top hard enough to push it across the room.
“Plenty of time.” Anakin brought the heel of his shoe down on Joel’s fingers hearing them crunch in a satisfying way.
“Goddamnit!” Joel pulled his hand back and held it to his chest, groaning in pain and red in the face from holding his breath.
“Get up,” Anakin chuckled, “don’t want daddy to think you went down without a fight do you?”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m flattered, but I have a pretty girl for that.” He grunted as he sent his right foot swinging directly at Joel’s mouth, the toe of his shoe coming back bloody.
Joel spat out blood onto the floor, his uninjured hand going to touch his split lip and feel his bottom row of teeth.
“What do you what man?” He cried out, his face a picture of pain painted red as his bloodied finger tips felt his jaw and cheek.
“Nothin’.” Anakin shrugged, picking up a chair and tossing it on its side, bracing himself on the table to jump down on one of the legs to break it off.
“Ooh look.” He laughed, shaking the splintered chair leg in Joel’s face, “Got a screw in it.”
“Come on, Joel.” Anakin groaned kicking him in the stomach. “You’re not making this any fun for me.”
“You’re a fucking psycho!” He grunted, curling up into a ball to protect his middle.
“Don’t you fucking call me that.” Anakin gritted out through bared teeth.
“You don’t know me!” Anakin shouted, bringing the chair leg, screw side down on the man below him, over and over again, red blooms soaking through his light blue shirt.
“But I know you.” Anakin kneeled down gripping Joel’s hair and slamming his face down against the tile, blood spurting from his nose and sending him into a stupor.
“Where’s it stop for you huh?” Anakin asked, pinning his arm in place on the ground with one knee on Joel’s elbow and slowly, so, so, slowly bending his arm back.
Feeling the tension of his muscles and the protestation of his bone Anakin gritted his teeth, holding Joel’s arm by the wrist just before the breaking point.
“It’s not enough for you to go around selling drugs to kids, you hit your girlfriend about four months ago and wound up with a little domestic that your daddy took care of for you.” Anakin grunted, snapping the elbow joint with a loud crunch and crack followed by a sharp scream from Joel that Anakin quieted with a foot to the face.
“So here I am,” Anakin hefted Joel up who weakly attempted to stand on his own two feet while Anakin held him under the arms and dragged him back into the living room, kicking him squarely in the chest down onto the glass coffee table. “getting rid of your dear old dad’s biggest disappointment and getting my fix in so I can be the best man I can for my pretty girl at home.”
“Now Joel, before you pass out...” Anakin crouched down and grabbed his jaw, slapping him to rouse him enough to pay attention, “I need the code to your lockbox.”
“W-will you leave me?” He slurred, drooling blood from the corner of his mouth, “Alone? Leave me alone?”
“Yeah sure.” Anakin shrugged.
“4-2-0-7” Joel panted, trying to get up and scoot away from his attacker, picking up shattered glass in the meat of hands, shards falling from his battered back.
“Whoa buddy slow down,” Anakin laughed, picking up the lockbox from beside the recliner and opening it up, shoving cash and as many baggies of various pills as he could into his pockets. “hold this for me.”
He tossed the lock box down on Joel’s chest and stifled a laugh at the pitiful choked sob that left him, the weight of it knocking the air from his lungs while Anakin trudged over the scattered glass.
He tossed the couch onto its back, swiped the various items on the kitchen counter off onto the floor, kicking it around and smearing blood over the counter top and cabinets, he grabbed his butterfly knife from where he’d tossed it aside, as well as a dirty skillet from the kitchen sink.
Smearing blood on the side of the skillet, he swung it like a bat at the wall in various places before making his way back to Joel who was fumbling with blood slicked fingers on his phone.
“Oh you stupid, stupid man.” Anakin snorted, snatching it from his hands he checked the screen and saw he hadn’t even been able to unlock it.
He tossed it up and swung his skillet-bat, a loud *Prrringg* rang out before it clattered to the ground somewhere near the hall to the back door.
“You said you’d leave.” Joel whimpered, holding his hands over his face.
“I lied.” Anakin said contempt dripping from his lips from behind the black bandana, tilting his head to the side.
“Hope you understand, I gotta beat the shit out of you with a few different things before I kill you.” Anakin sighed, “All this trouble when you could’ve just told me where your pistol was.”
“Shame.” He grunted, bringing the sharp edge of the skillet down on his ribs, arms, and legs.
“Please,” Joel wheezed, clutching at his side with his mangled arm tucked underneath him. “you don’t have to do this man, c’mon I ain’t done nothing to you!”
“I know I don’t have to, I want to.” Anakin pulled down his bandana for the first time during this attack just to flash Joel a smile.
He tossed the skillet somewhere to the right of them, grabbing Joel’s ashtray from beneath the shattered remains of the coffee table, cracking it over the back of his head.
“Shit, I hope you didn’t spend too much on that.” Anakin chuckled. “S’not real marble, look at that. Split right in half.” He tsk’d.
“Shall we end this now?” He took a deep breath, flicking out his knife.
“Why’d you do all that… just to kill me?” Joel cried, “don’t do it, please. I’ll- my dad, he’ll fix it okay?”
“I did all that, for fun.” Anakin said, gripping the knife firmly in his leather gloved hand, jamming it between Joel’s lower ribs, clamping his free hand over his mouth to muffle the blood-curdling scream he let out.
“Your dad ain’t fixing shit.” Anakin snorted, “he’s gonna be glad to be rid of you.”
“You’ve got another brother, nice guy. Works at the bank,” Anakin whistled lowly as he pulled out the blade at watched the blood gush out. “your dad wouldn’t admit it to your face of course; but I imagine he’ll be relieved when he hears the news.”
Joel sputtered and coughed up blood, gurgling the fluid in his open mouth as he choked. Deep crimson ichor drowning him from the inside.
“You’re making a mess.” Anakin grumbled, switching the grip on the blade. With one hand wrapped around the handles, the other palm on the end to put extra weight into the next motion.
“Hey.” Anakin nudged him with him knee, “open your eyes.”
The second he complied Anakin sank the blade straight into the brown of his iris, a shiver running over his flesh when he heard the *pop* when it pierced through.
“Figured you’d wanna see something pretty before you died.” Anakin grinned, putting his full upper body weight into the knife handle, driving it in as far as he could manage.
“Gross,” Anakin stood up, watching with a grimace as Joel seized, red foam oozing down his chin until he finally stopped convulsing. “fucking nasty.”
Anakin plucked his knife from the eye socket and cleaned the blade on the one unblemished patch of fabric of his victim’s shirt, tucking it into his back pocket. He surveyed the area, ensuring he’d created a believable enough scene, once he was satisfied he walked toward the backdoor, purposely shuffling and sliding his feet across the laminate to avoid full, solid foot prints.
“Hmm.” As he reached the end of the hall he spotted a large mason jar of change, he just couldn’t help himself from smacking it off the small entryway table it sat on, enjoying the sound of the coins scattering across the floor.
“Nice.” He grinned, a little pep in his step as he jumped to the grass from the top step.
In the corner of the backyard against the fence, Anakin pulled off his gloves and switched out his clothes and shoes, shoving the drugs, cash and dirty clothes into his bag.
He hopped the fence and walked as casually as he could down the sidewalk. Unable to wipe the smile from his lips, he was practically giddy, having gotten the biggest adrenaline rush he’d had in a long, long time. He felt free, he felt like a dark cloud had been blown away by a summer breeze. He felt like he could reach up and run his fingertips across the night sky, collecting up stars like pretty rocks to bring home to you.
He felt different. He felt changed. He felt alive.
And gods forgive him, he felt horny.
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Part Twelve
Tag-List:
@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @demieyesore @hopesworlld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco
THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.
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itsataraxiaa · 13 hours
Note
can you pretty please write ratio sunday and maybe gallagher with a reader who just brings animals home like one day they come home with just a dirty feral ass cat out of nowhere
of course I can love <33 I love this idea
White Jasmine
sypnosis: one day, you bring home a stray- much to his surprise you found it on the street pairings: Ratio, Sunday and Gallagher x reader (Separate) wordcount: 338 (Ratio), 364 (Sunday), 292 (Gallagher) A/N: fluff and crack? I have NOT grasped enough of Gallaghers personality to write enough for him im so sorryyy
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RATIO
"No." he said, nonchalantly as you pout with the kitten in your arms. "Why not? Look how cute he looks!" you said and your boyfriend grimaced as he saw the feral look on the 'kitten' that you held. "It looks like it wants to rip my face off. And here I thought you could use your brain for once." he added and you dramatically gasped, holding the kitten close to you. "How could you say that?! He's not an 'it'! Besides, all he needs is a bath, some food and some grooming. Plus, if he were to rip your face off, then it's because you made him uncomfortable." Ratio groaned in annoyance before you walked right past him, getting ready to help your kitten.
He followed quickly behind in fear for his dozens of books and whatever he has for studies. "What do you even want to name him?
"Emperor Maximillian Pusspuss."
"You cannot be serious."
Nevertheless to say, the two of you agreed on the name Cosine- mostly because that when Ratio tried to explain The Pythagorean theorem to 'an idiot' student (he called him that), the cat responded every time he said 'Cosine'.
After one long day of shopping, you opened the door to your shared house and noticed the lack of sounds from inside. Also, normally, Cosine would wait before the door once you entered, but not today. As you walked through the entire house, you stopped when you entered the bedroom, bringing out your phone to snap some pictures of the sight before you. There, your smart boyfriend laid on your bed with Cosine sleeping on his chest as he read a book. He looked up as he heard the shutter from your phone, "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, putting the book away. You smiled to yourself before walking up to the bed and petting Cosine, causing him to wake up and meow softly at you. "Well?" you took a glance at Veritas before you showed him the picture.
"Preserving memories."
SUNDAY
"Angel, this is the seventh time." he sighed, too tired to argument with you actually as you brought in yet another bird you found in Penacony. "But this one is injured." you said, showing your boyfriend the injured wing of the bird. He got up from his seat and you place the bird carefully on his hands when he stood before you. "Seems like a small fracture," he gently held the injured wing and inspected it before letting it rest beside the bird. "poor little thing." he quietly added before looking up to you. "I don't think we can care for another one, Angel." he said, but you shook your head, practically begging him. "pleaseeeee, the room is big enough for another, it can stay." he chuckled before the two of you began to walk to a distant room at Dewlight Pavilion.
Over the past 2 months, you have brought in six birds before this one, almost begging Sunday every time to help you heal them- after the fifth time you realized he only made you beg because he liked it. Together, with Robin's help, you have taken care of all the birds you have found. Even after they were healed, they chose to stay at Dewlight Pavilion, much like the origami birds that hid everywhere. Every morning, they would greet every with a delighted chirp and sometimes land on your or Robin's shoulder, but never Sunday's for some reason.
"Let me get some bandages and a intramedullary pin." you said, rushing to one of the shelves with the medicinal items. After making sure the bird was asleep for the procedure, you carefully drilled the pin into its bone before bandaging it up. Sunday gave you a small kiss as you placed the still sleeping bird on one of the pillows. "What was that for?" you asked, smiling at him. "I am not allowed to kiss you?" he chuckled before looking at the bird again. "This won't be the last, right?" You nodded and turned to him again. "Does it bother you already?"
"It does not. As long as there aren't too many staying here and you still remember that I'm present, of course."
GALLAGHER
"Here you g- what do you have there?" Gallagher just finished giving you your drink before he saw the stray hound that sat beside you. "Oh- this is Pee-wee." Gallagher remained silent before Siobhan laughed at the name behind him. "Pee-wee? That's his name?" he asked before silently mourning over the given name of that dog. You chuckled to yourself as you sat on one of the bar stools with your drink in hand and the hound also jumped onto one of the stools. "I was kidding, handsome. His name is Dexter. Fits more, don't you think?" you took a sip as he exhaled in relieve. "Oh thank god." Dexter swagged his tail as Gallagher pet him before turning to you. "Where did you get him?" he took notice of the amount of dirt in his fur and some injuries on his ears. "Near Dream's Edge. He was starving when I found him. Can we pretty please keep him?" Dexter barked at your idea and Gallagher found himself agreeing.
However, to what he was not agreeing was to you bring even more stray dogs to the bar, to the point where even the local Penacony monsters were unable to enter and the bar quickly lost customers.
"Ahem, don't you think you kind of... overdid it?" Siobhan asked you and Gallagher nodded, "They need to leave. Especially those who aren't even injured." you shook your head as you sat on the ground with almost five dogs trying to lie on your lap. "I'm unable to do so." Gallagher groaned as he gave up, sitting beside you and letting some dogs also lie on his lap.
"At least get them out of the bar. Argue with the Hotel Staff to let them wander around."
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doomsday-dj · 2 days
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Yo. Bestie. Do you have any Rizzles author recommendations for me??
You have cruelly seduced me into this teeny-tiny-weeny fandom and now I have galloped my way through (almost) all of your brilliant body of work I am cast adrift and quickly finding out that "sort by kudos" simply does not bring up the goods here...
Help a gay out?
Oh fuck yeah, bestie. Yes. Do I ever!! I am about to WEAR OUT the link function. But before the recommendations: aw shucks and thank you and all that. Your comments this week have been a highlight. I'm sorry to have dragged you into this but hopefully this post makes up for it! I've been dabbling in some other fandoms lately, ones with a LOT of fics, and there's a lot of great writers out there, but I have to say that especially relative to how many fics there are, there's an outrageous amount of good writers who have written Rizzles.
Okay! So disclaimer that I’ve had a really ungodly amount of coffee today so if this is a little on the “un” side of hinged then I apologize. I am definitely gonna be REAL effusive. I was silly and shy about leaving comments and kudos when I first got on AO3 and now I make up for those crimes by being unabashedly keen.
I have gone and sorted by kudos (and, sidenote, discovered that I'm in the top 30????) and before I get to the under-appreciated bangers, I will say that plenty of my faves feature in the first two pages of sort by kudos (though their most kudosed work is almost never my fave one). Here I’m thinking of coolbyrne, @julieverne, DanteBeatrice77. All of these authors are awesome.
Also, amongst the highly kudosed works, Attachment by @performativezippers is a classic for in the fandom for good reason (and their Bachelor AU is a romp) and law of the lever by sharkfights is one of my favourites all time.
As for the other stuff, what do you WANT out of your fic, bestie?
You want the feelings? You want the beautifully written feelings? @ladyriot has got feelings FOR DAYS. If you want some one shots that will take you apart and put you back together, you’ve come to the right place. Good feelings, angsty feelings, all the feelings you need. My favourite is Let Our Hands Tell the Story but I recommend all of them. Mostly it's one shots but the one complete multi-chapter fic, Transference, is CRIMINALLY UNDERRATED. Less than 200 kudos?! Fuck all the way off. I don’t know if it’s because it’s an AU or if it’s because of the doctor/patient element but unless that’s a trigger, I promise you it it’s handled very artfully and also it’s fucking fiction and no patient’s rights were violated in the making of this fic. Oh and put your ink on my skin 'til it comes off on me is both devastating and stupid hot.
Haven’t had enough feelings?? Take your insufficiently battered heart over to @sideadde’s work. I especially like Who Needs Two Kidneys When Another Heart Can Be Had? and Immersion Therapy.
You want a big meaty casefic you can sink your teeth into?? Domini_porter’s CMYK is so goddamn good. The smutty chapters in this one are just...chef's kiss. Among my favourites all time. I am also entirely obsessed with their Victorian AU, which deserves more attention. Also if you want some crack-your-chest-open-and-pull-out-your-guts angst go alllll the way back to their first fics on AO3.
OH. @kurtsvonneslut too. I think and you cooled my mind that burned with longing is probably my favourite post-finale type fic, bit of an AU with some major canon changes. They also have an excellent picking-up-from-the-Jane-and-Maura-season-2/3-break-up casefic, A Crime of Passion, and they wrote a devastating exploration of PTSD that just...oooof.
God, I could really just keep going and going. And this is just on AO3!!! I feel like I could do a whole part two of this that's just flagging all the best stuff that's back on ff.net. I might have to because this is already really long. But I'm stopping for now. Thanks for the BEST ASK.
*dramatic stage whisper* psssst do you want smut? I feel like I could also do a whole post on smut alone. Maybe later.
Note: I’ve tagged authors if their tumblr name is the same as their ao3 name, because I assume they’re okay with being found. If any of you would like to be untagged from the post just DM me and I’ll do that lickety split.
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houseofevanbuckley · 2 days
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It’s not that he never thought about his own ass but since he kissed Tommy that first time, and that second, and third, and now they’re probably approaching the low 200 after a few weeks, he’s starting to think about it
And yeah, in all these years he mostly thought about how to make it hot, how to get girls to look at it and like it.
And well, his confidence isn’t always all that great but he knows he has a good body ok? That’s one of the things he’s confident in.
Except, well, he’s a little hairy, and what if Tommy doesn’t like it ?
Buck has never looked at his ass as often as he is now, each morning after his shower, and when getting ready to sleep
And he doesn’t know how to ask
He knows realistically that Tommy would answer and not mock him but he feels so awkward, he can’t even imagine opening his mouth to ask “so, my ass is a little hairy, is it a turn off for you?” And if yes, then what ? Would he have to shave? To wax? Would he want to ?
They’ve been cuddling on his bed now, getting up to probably around 250/280 kisses now and Tommy’s hands are everywhere, roaming his back, his shoulders, his chest, his arms
And they’re going back to his back, sneaking under his shirt and resting so very low on his back he can feel Tommy’s pinky grazing his jeans and the top of his boxer and he can’t anymore
He pulls back and just blurt “I’m hairy” and he can feel the heat on his face, and he knows he’s turning so red, he’s grateful for the low lights of his room
“Uh?” Tommy is still dazed by all the kisses, he had Buck sucking on his tongue less than 0.2seconds ago and his brain isn’t functioning fully yet
“I mean my ass. I’m hairy…”
“Babe… is it why you were so tense anytime my hand was down on your back?”
“I just… I just don’t want you to be disgusted or anything”
“Baby…” Tommy says before kissing his lips softly, “I’ve seen your legs, and the little bits on your chest you call hair, I figured you’d have some there too and I don’t mind at all. Full disclosure, I’m not a twink either and sure I’d shave if you want me to but it’s not something I do often or ask of my partners”
“Oh … oh ok”
“Were you that worried?”
Buck just shrugs but he can feel his lungs finally able to fully breath, to let go of that anxiety that took over him in the past few weeks.
“It’s ok baby,” says Tommy kissing down his jaw, “I’m sure your ass look amazing, with or without hair”
Buck just snorts and let himself be consumed by Tommy’s mouth, and when Tommy’s hand is back just above his ass, he doesn’t tense when his boyfriend pinkie just teases the top of his ass.
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frvnkcastles · 5 hours
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Hii I love your work so much!! I was wondering if you would do Frank Castle x reader based off of Sunlight or Francesca By Hozier? I don’t know I just feel like with how deeply this man feels that one or those would be perfect for Frank and the reader.
I WOULD DO IT AGAIN ➵ F. CASTLE
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Summary: A glimpse into the way Frank feels for you.
Warnings: Fem!reader, violence, reader has unspecified mental health issues
Word count: 1.2k
Author’s note: I fell in love with both these songs thanks to this request!! I tried to combine both of them, though I suppose I got more out of Francesca. I’m a little on the fence about this one shot in general, but I hope you like it! Thanks for your patience <3 Also, I keep forgetting to say this, but thank you so much for 700 followers!!! It means so much to me that we’ve created this little community of traumatized Frank lovers :)
There was nothing Frank wouldn’t have done for you. He had known that quite early into your relationship, his devotion for you growing more and more every day, even if you weren’t officially dating. In fact, your feelings for each other had gone unspoken ever since you had met, but he couldn’t deny they were there — he cared for you so much it terrified him, it kept him up at night.
He thought about the first time he met you often. He’d never forget the way you looked in that dress you had dug out of your closet just for the occasion, how the warm bar light illuminated your starry eyes and how you had been nervously gnawing on your lip while glancing at your phone for the millionth time.
”Whoever’s standin’ you up would regret if they saw you in that dress”, he had spoken up from across the mostly empty bar counter, and you had immediately looked up only to find a man so attractive your stomach did a somersault. Rough around the edges but undeniably easy on the eyes, even more so when the corner of his mouth had twitched upwards in a sneaky smirk, even when his stare was focused on the crowd behind you. You had shuffled on your feet, looking around to see who he was referring to, but when you had turned back to him, you found him gazing right at you, making your mouth run dry.
”I was supposed to have a date”, you had explained over the music, ”guess it was a waste of a pretty dress.”
He had chuckled at that. ”Well, for what it’s worth, you made this old sucker’s heart skip a beat”, he had shrugged before gesturing at the empty seat next to him. ”Buy you a drink?”
And ever since then, he had been hooked on you. You made him feel alive, you gave him a reason to get up in the morning. So when you had told him you felt like you were doing the opposite, his heart had shattered in his chest.
”I realize I have a lot of baggage. So I don’t blame you if you want to, I dunno, check out now”, you had explained meekly, distance between you as you both stood in your kitchen at an ungodly hour, fresh stitches on Frank’s abdomen. ”I guess I’m not a very easy person to be around, is what I’m saying”, you had added with a quiet chuckle, and at that, Frank had closed the space between you, his hand coming to rest on your cheek as he swallowed all the air from your personal space.
”You think I am?” he had stated matter-of-factly. ”You’re wrong, sweetheart. I don’t remember the last time it was this easy for me to be around someone. You make me feel… Yeah, you just make me feel. I can’t get enough of you. Don’t ever think I’d wanna get rid of you, ’cause shit, as long as you’ll have me, I ain’t goin’ anywhere”, he had explained, passion behind every word, and it had made you tear up.
”You know everything that’s wrong with me and you’re saying you still want to be my friend?” you had asked to confirm, and licking his lips, Frank had glanced at yours before nodding. He had forced himself to withdraw, not wanting to cross any lines, but he had given your hand a squeeze, nonetheless.
”Never been more sure of anything.”
He wasn’t letting go of you. As much was confirmed when his enemies caught whiff of you being involved with him — before he knew it, your name fell from the lips of his latest target, and he had seen red. The men were coming from left and right, punching him, stabbing him, each of them claiming their piece of the Punisher, but he wasn’t going to rest until he’d know you were safe. Their taunts of getting to his little girlfriend had pushed him over the edge, and with feral anger, he slaughtered the lot of them, not letting a single henchman slip out and get to you.
He had wanted to avoid you seeing him like this so badly. But as soon as he was done, as soon as the men lay dead at his feet, he was rushing out of the warehouse he had been lured into, just to make his way to you.
The urgent knock on your door in the middle of the night wasn’t a completely unfamiliar sound — you had stitched Frank up more than a few times, but you could tell something was wrong. As soon as you opened the door, a bloodied Frank burst through, his eyes wide and alert, his shaky hands clamoring to find purchase on your shoulders.
”Hey, hey, what is it? Are you okay?” you asked with worry, eyebrows knitted together as you tried to balance Frank’s larger frame, your hands resting on his arms.
”I—I needed to know you were okay”, he managed to get out, breathless and panicking, and nodding to promise him that you were, you attempted to meet his frantic eyes and calm him down.
”I’m okay, Frankie, I’m okay. Breathe, honey”, you reassured, and slumping against your body, Frank pulled you into a vicelike hug, squeezing you tight, breathing you in. Blood stained your clothes and hair, but your priority was getting Frank across the panicked state he was in, to assure him everything was okay.
”They said they were coming for you. I—I couldn’t let them. I wasn’t gonna let them”, he repeated, before grunting, ”I killed ’em all.”
Pulling away slightly, you looked into dark eyes with a disbelieving frown. ”You did that for me?” you whispered, and finding solace in your gaze, Frank found it in himself to catch his breath and understand that the imminent danger was over.
”You’re goddamn right I did. I’d do it again and again. I’d do anything for you”, he swore, letting his forehead fall against yours. You closed your eyes and took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze before pulling him towards the bathroom.
”Let’s get you cleaned up, big guy.”
Even after he had had time to shower, he was still on alert, constantly checking the windows and pacing around your apartment. You had to fight him to the bedroom, insisting that you both needed to get some rest, and he supposed he could do that — watch over you, make sure you’d get to sleep soundly. Soon enough, you were cuddled up in the bed and Frank was sitting next to you, resting against the headboard with his eyes laser-focused on the closed door.
”Hey, you can relax. They’re all gone. No one’s coming for me”, you reminded him softly, caressing his arm with tender fingers, and swallowing, Frank slowly and reluctantly sank deeper into the mattress to be closer to you.
”I ain’t ever lettin’ anythin’ happen to you. You know that, right?” he grunted, and with a nod, you reassured him.
”I know. You always make me feel safe.” His eyes softened at your words, and gently, he reached over to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering for a brief moment.
He really would have done anything for you.
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cheriedarliingz · 2 days
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i love being cared for and spoiled just as much as the next lesbian, but it's so important to do the same for the other person in the relationship.
helping them out when they've had a bad day, give them a shoulder to cry on or a neck to hide their face in, reassure them that they'll be ok no matter how much the world feels like it's crashing down on just them and them alone. or if they're not that much into physical touch, just lending an ear helps. even if you can't give them great advice, just being there and letting them get their bad day off their chest says a lot, and it means even more. and some people don't like to talk about their bad days. that's ok too. sometimes it's just space that they need but sometimes they just need to be distracted from their bad day. indulge in some of their favorite hobbies with them, watch a comfort show/movie of their's, cook them their favorite meal.
remembering the little things and doing them just because. adding in small details that you've remembered they hold so dear to their heart for whatever reason. it always feels good to know you're actually being listened to.
can we pls normalize femmes paying for stuff? just a little bit???? please queens/kings????? listen guys, i'm not complaining if you want to take care of me financially, i am a broke bitch! but WHEN i do have money, (not very often😞) at least let me buy you some ice cream with it or SOMETHIN'- PLEASE! i know ice cream isn't a super big responsibility but it's always felt weird to me seeing the relationship dynamic where one person supports themselves and their partner financially, and the partner doesn't even reciprocate it occasionally???? THIS IS NOT ME DEMONIZING THIS LIL DYNAMIC OR WTV, i just personally do not vibe with it. but do whatever makes you happy, bbgs. i know there are other ways of taking care of someone other than supporting them financially but i'd love to even be able to do it just once in a while, if not all the time. (all the time is not likely bcs once again i can't save money for shit....)
i know i mentioned this for like five seconds in my first or second lil paragraph but cooking is such a reassuring thing to do. cooking someone their favourite meal or just any meal is a love language that we look past too often and i am sick of it!!!!! (this is coming from someone who tried to make homeade hamburger helper with burrito beef two nights ago btw... don't look at me.) it's such a quiet way of love admittance. but then genuineness is there and it's abundant. mostly if your partner is of culture, i bet that would be an amazing and quite heartwarming surprise for them to see. (meow:3)
i could go on and on and on about reciprocity but it's 2am and i don't feel like writing anymore...
⁻ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵖᵒˢᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ᵃ ᵐᶦⁿᵒʳ, ᵐᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵈⁿᶦ ᵃᶜᶜˢ ᵈⁿᶦᵎ
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ollypopwrites · 1 day
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From Depths Unknown ; Part 3
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Part 1 ⚜ Part 2 ⚜ Ao3
Rolan x F!Tav (AFAB, she/her) *Tav is a Storm Sorcerer, but no actual reference to her appearance.
Rating: E
Tags & Warnings: [18+ MDNI] Language, Canon-typical violence (there is a lot discussion of blood and injuries in this chapter), Major Character Death, Sexual Content (mostly just horny thoughts), background Bloodweave.
Chapter Summary:
Not even Moonrise Tower nor the Shadowcursed land had been this hectic. They dodged rains of incredible fire from dragons, psionic blast from nautiloids and falling debris from buildings crashing around them. Fighting their way through an army of cultists, mindflayers and intellectual devourers, her team felt as united as ever. Everyone felt the finality of it.
Notes: I wanted some whump, okay? I promise they will fuck eventually.
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“Rolan? Really? I thought he hated your guts.” 
“You haven’t seen him pining from afar?” Shadowheart asked dramatically. 
“Honestly, Tav, he’s a decent bloke,” Wyll said. “A bit rough around the edges —“
“A bit?!” Karlach protested. 
“Alright, quite rough around the edges,” Wyll amended.
“And pompous,” Shadowheart added. 
“Completely up his own ass,” Karlach agreed.
“Alright!” Tav said, “I’ve told you all, nothing happened.” 
Her and Rolan had been camp gossip from the moment they had walked into their suite; Tav had a hangover and a strong need for coffee, while Rolan was stiff with embarrassment at the questioning looks from her companions. He couldn’t stay long, but they had food and tea and coffee, which was the least she could offer him. She remembered most of the night: the crying, yelling and him having to arrange a makeshift bed for her. As it was embarrassing as it was, she felt a little better getting it all off of her chest. The details were fuzzy, but she knew she had come on to him. While nothing untoward had happened, the camp only saw their leader come through the doors looking bedraggled with an equally out of sorts tiefling wizard. Tongues had been sent wagging immediately. 
“But you do fancy him, don’t you?” Karlach asked. 
She took a deep breath. “Can we focus on the task at hand?” 
“Only after you admit you want to shag the grumpy wizard,” Shadowheart teased. 
“Fine, fine!” Tav felt like tearing out her hair. “Yes, yes I like him. Okay. Can we move on now?” 
“Sheesh,” Karlach breathed. “Take him to bed, mate. You need it.”
She didn’t need Karlach to tell her that. She pushed on, ignoring them. Wyll, however, caught up quickly to her. 
“I won’t lie to you, my friend, he hasn’t made the best impression,” he told her. “But he’s truly a good man.” 
“I know that.” 
“So, are you going to come clean about what happened on the roof then?” He was grinning, boyish and mischievous. 
“Not you too, Wyll, please you were my last hope.”
Her only saving grace was that they found their way to an unusual engineer named Redhammer and his submersible, which happened to be the same culprit that had killed one the the priestesses of Umberlee. While she had half agreed to kill or hand him over if she found him, he offered an opportunity to find the hostage Gondians in the Iron Throne. Tav decided to take some inspiration from Astarion, using him to get down to the Iron Throne before she ultimately left his fate up to Umberlee's order. She thought she should have felt guilty, but he had been so casual about killing the priestess and transporting hostages she found herself lacking any real remorse. After the tadpole was out of her head, she thought she may have to reassess her moral compass. 
After saving the Gondians, Duke Ravengaurd himself and their old friend Omeluum she was happy to be alive and not blown to bits at the bottom of the Chionthar. The priestesses of Umberlee had even rewarded them with a beautiful robe in exchange for finding Redhammer. Gale was the only other person it would have been suited for and he was too embarrassed to wear it despite the entire camp teasing him about it. It was a bit risqué, but when Tav slipped it on she felt it cling to her body and the strange fabric was so damn comfortable she felt as if it were a second skin. She quite liked it. 
They made their way to Sorcerer’s Sundries, knowing the next day would be their chance to finish up the infiltration of the Steelwatch Foundry. Tav was sure Gortash would not bring the Steelwatch down on them right away. The last thing he needed was his army of metal titans tearing apart the city to find them, civilians would inevitably get hurt and then they would get angry. Gortash needed a city scared but ready to cling to a tyrant that could keep them safe, not ready to revolt for stepping on their children. They had to move, but she wanted to let him sweat and take time to get ready for their final push. 
The foundry, the hammer, the last Netherstone. Then the brain. There was finally a light at the end of the tunnel. 
Rolan was rarely in the shop these days. His mirror image had taken his position at the counter, helped along by the other specialists and Cal or Lia. Tav made her way upstairs; despite her pride she owed Rolan thanks for the night before and an apology for the teasing her friends had thrown his way in the wake of it. And she wondered if he’d like her new robes. It was silly, and pointless in the face of everything else that was going on but the desire was there, hiding behind her ‘noble’ reasons for disturbing him in the middle of the day. She made her way through the portal which led to the study Rolan was now using as his own office throughout the day. The blood, ash and bodies had all been cleared away — the decadent room was still in process of being redone to Rolan’s standards but it had come a long way since Lorroakan’s death. 
“Rolan?” She called. 
“A minute, please,” he replied from the balcony. 
Tav rolled her eyes, muttering about wizards and their books. She strolled about the room. He seemed to be in the process of organizing tomes, one of the animated suits of armor was picking up a stack piled on the ground and taking it through another portal. She recalled him mentioning a library, and wanting to cultivate his own favorites for the study. It was his, now, after all. 
“Please tell me you didn’t wear that into battle?”
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When he had heard Tav’s voice carry through the study, he noted a lack of distinct irritation at being interrupted. Another sign that Tav was becoming worryingly exempt from his usual ‘prick-ish particularities’ as Cal had so kindly put it. He had just seen her that morning and as awkward as breakfast had been amongst her companions, he had to force himself to finish putting books on the shelf before heading down the stairs. He needed to retain some of his dignity, after all, despite his desire to eagerly stop everything he was doing at the sound of her voice. Tav waited for him below, and as usual, he took a mental note of any new injuries she may have acquired.
Robes with pieces of protective gear was what she normally wore. Soft leathers and sturdy cotton robes, with something to protect her vulnerable points. Even out of armor she usually only wore a simple tunic and cloth pants. His surprise to find her at the center of his study in an outfit that was all flesh and skin tight fabric made him stop in his tracks. The light blue ensemble clung to every curve, dipped low between her breasts (that damned pearl dangling at the center of her chest matched well with this new outfit, he noted), and was slit at the legs so all he saw was skin bared up to a concerning height on her thighs. Her worn leather boots stuck out, not quite fitting in with the sleek outfit, but that did nothing to preserve him from staring dumbly. 
His momentary gawking was interrupted when he realized this scrap of fabric was meant to be armor. All the soft spots of her were exposed to cuts and bruises. 
“Please tell me you didn’t wear that into battle?”
“You don’t like it?”
“That’s hardly the point I’m trying to make,” he said quickly. 
“Then what is the point?”
“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “You can’t wear that in a fight. It’s…” 
Ravishing. So easy to slide aside so I could have any part of you I wanted, he thought. 
“Impractical.” He said aloud. 
“And you decide what I wear now?”
“No,” he replied through grit teeth. “Of course not.”
“Well, I like it.” Tav shrugged him off, turning away and walking around to look at his progress in the study. 
The dress was just as tight in the back, he noticed, his mind reeling and his pulse thrumming. “Where did you even get it?”
“It was a gift from the priestesses of Umberlee,” she said. 
“And what, pray tell, did you do to earn it?” 
“Freed some hostages in a prison at the bottom of the Chionthar and found the man who killed one of their order.” She listed casually. “Duke Ravenguard was down there, if you can believe it. And then Archduke Gortash, magnanimous man that he is, tried to blow us up,” her tone dripped with sarcasm, “it’s been quite a day.”
“Your usual heroics, then,” he grit out. 
“Of course,” she grinned, and everything about the smile was a challenge, a tease, and he was certain he never wanted her so badly. “I know you love to hear about my gallantry. Not bad for a girl who started the day with a terrible hangover, I think.”
“Is there a point to your visit?” He asked tersely. 
“Actually, yes,” she finally came up to him. 
Close enough to touch. The fabric looked soft, and shimmery, probably pleasant enough to run his hands over but the exposed space between her breasts seemed particularly ripe for licking. His jaw clenched as he made the Herculean effort to look her in the eyes. The teasing look she had before was gone, something a little more bashful and sweet. It only made it harder to keep his hands to himself. 
“I wanted to say thank you for last night.” She said, “I don’t remember all of it… but I know I was not at my best. Thanks for putting up with me, and sorry my friends are busybodies.” 
Rolan didn’t know what to say. A whirlwind was inside him. Pure want and affection. Irritation at said want and affection. Irritation at himself for not being able to just say what he wanted to. This was all getting entirely out of hand. 
“How is your arm?”
“My….arm?”
“You’re still scarred, from that ring you so foolishly put on when you had no idea what it did,” he snapped. 
“Oh, that,” she deflated. “Fine. Just these marks,” she pushed back the sleeves of the robe to look at them. “Gale thinks it was some kind of connection to the elemental plane.” At his responding silence she shifted awkwardly. “Okay,” she drew out the word, “I’m going to go.” 
“Goodbye.”
He stayed to watch her go, eyes glued to the way the robes clung to her bottom, the shift of the fabric and delicate metalwork over her exposed legs. 
“You can’t wear that,” he blurted out. “Not in battle. You’ll be ripped to shreds.”
And so would the robe itself, which would be a terrible shame in and of itself, the more he thought about it.
“You said that already.” 
“It bears repeating.” 
She rolled her eyes. “Goodbye, Rolan.” 
As she stepped through the portal and he was left alone he groaned, rubbing both hands over his face, as he muttered to himself, “you’re going to kill me you meddlesome, irritating, beautiful woman.” 
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While there had been little notice before the Netherbrain broke free and started unleashing terror on the city, Tav had at least warned her allies ahead of time that it could happen any day at any time. With Rolan’s permission, Counselor Florrick had spread the word that the tower was going to be one point of haven in the city. It had protections and wards, and plenty of space. When all hells broke loose, Cal and Lia were holding down the fort while he made his way to High Hall. Thankfully most of the fighting was happening in the upper city, but mind flayers were running rampant, the sky was red with fire, full of errant blasts from nautiloids and dragons. 
He sent civilian healers as he found them to the tower, instructing them to take whoever they could with them. The high hall was crowded, Flaming Fists taking account of all the allies of Tav’s which had gathered. Many of them he recognized, some he had never seen before, but his heart swelled with pride at the gathering of people who were ready to support Tav and her friends. 
When she came through the door with all her camp in tow, smattered in blood, as she always was, he thought she may cry at the showing. There wasn’t much time, but she took a moment to appraise them of her plan. Her entire party would take the main push to the brain, along with the illithid she had with her. There was no time to explain, she only assured them that this person — Orpheus, was on their side. She needed anyone she did not call to her side to focus on protecting the few points of refuge they had managed to secure in the city, and above all to keep as many civilians safe as possible. She was given means to summon her allies as needed.
As Tav made the quick effort to offer thanks to everyone individually, he felt the terror of it being the last time he saw her. This was not the Tav which he’d had drinks with at the Elfsong every night leading up to this battle, laughing with her friends, carefree for just a few hours. This was the woman who had lead four people to victory against a small army of Goblins, who stormed Moonrise towers and lifted the curse over Reithwin. Focused, determined and if she was scared it never once showed on her face. Only the storm dancing behind her eyes, calm before she exploded into action. 
Rolan had to believe the next time he’d see her, she would be relaxed and teasing him about something over a glass of wine. As she approached him last, before heading out to save the city, he bolstered himself to be whatever she and the rest of the people of Baldur’s Gate needed. 
“The tower is ready, you need only call.” He told her swiftly. 
“Thank you.” She nodded. “Rolan, I — “ she bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut. “If I survive this —“
“You will,” he said certainly. 
“If I do,” she repeated, eyes boring into his with earnesty he hardly knew how to deal with, “would you like to join me for a bottle of Arabellan Dry?”
“Are you asking me on a date? Right now?” As if to punctuate his point the ground shook, horrible screeching sounds and the roar of a dragon sounded out. 
“Might be my last chance,” she breathed. 
“It won’t be,” he insisted. If she was going to be bold enough to ask him out for a drink before running off to certain death — he had to rise to the challenge. He grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips. “You’ll come back to me, gloriously and infuriatingly victorious.”
If he said it confidently enough it may just come true. It had worked for him before.
Tav nodded, squeezing his hand in hers. She hesitated, but there was little time for more to be said. She suddenly began to dig under the collar of her armored robes with her free hand. After fidgeting for a moment with something around her neck she held out the chain of the necklace which held her Pearl of Power. 
“Can you hold onto it for me? I don’t want to lose it again.” 
“You may need it,” he was unsure what else to say. 
“Already used it today,” she said, “it’s just sentimental right now. And just — hold onto it. Please.” 
Tav took his hand and placed the necklace into his palm, gently curling his fingers over it. It was such a small trinket, but the implications of her leaving it with him made it feel immeasurably valuable. He thought he would rather die than let it come to any harm. The dramatics of such a train of thought struck him so violently with the realization that he was undoubtedly in love. The terrible timing for such an epiphany was only emphasized by a loud boom on the roof and the shudder of dust and small bits of debris raining down on them.
Tav let go of his hand and with a determination in her eye he knew all too well, led her party out into the midst of terror with no other word. 
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There was no time to stop. 
Not even Moonrise nor the Shadowcursed land had been this hectic. They dodged rains of incredible fire from dragons, psionic blast from nautiloids and falling debris from buildings crashing around them. Fighting their way through an army of cultists, mindflayers and intellectual devourers, her team felt as united as ever. Everyone felt the finality of it. She had seen Astarion and Gale share what they thought might possibly be their last kiss. Watching them felt like an intrusion, but the glance she had gotten of desperate softness in their eyes made her more determined than ever. Tav silently vowed that she would come out of this with everyone alive and ready to begin anew. 
When they finally found the  stalk of the Elderbrain it led higher and higher up over the city. She felt the adrenaline spurring her to start to climb, and she didn’t have to look behind her to know they followed. At the top it was an onslaught of psionic forces: the netherbrain, the illithids it commanded, and the tadpoles in their heads revolting at every move they made to fight against them. There were moments that blanked out, as she was stunned or her head hurt so badly she felt she couldn’t see. They were all moving on pure instinct to survive. 
Karlach’s rage was an unstoppable force, Lae’zel cut down anyone in her path with brutal efficiency, and the only thing more intense than the amount of healing magic Shadowheart was expending was the force with which she brought down her mace. Jaheira and Halsin were in charge of summoning reinforcements as needed, controlling the battlefield with Druidic magic while Gale sent off spell after spell with devastating effect. Astarion and Wyll danced around the battlefield; Wyll’s combined magic and skill with the blade making him virtually untouchable while Astarion flitted in and out of visibility, daggers digging into flesh with deadly accuracy. 
And she exploded with magic. 
Her arm hurt, the flowing lines of whatever had touched her when she put on that ring in the tower glowed and raged as she gave everything she had. When she felt she had nothing left, it fed her new power, keeping a steady stream of lightning ready to strike. There was not a lot of time to think on this new development, only time to acknowledge that whatever it did to her, her magic was thriving on it. Her magic felt centered for the first time in her life. Controllable, not just something she was barely wrangling and flinging around blindly. 
The last push to the crown was upon them. The way just needed to be cleared, she called to Halsin over the clamor of it all, tadpole transmitting to the others her plan. In truly rumbling cacophony explosions rained down, almost clearing their path. For a moment she took in the show of power from Ramazith’s Tower, but they had to bolt forward. 
Lae’zel took the lead, attacking an illithid arcanist guarding the portal they needed to get into. Gale was quick behind her, magic missiles firing off in every direction and counterspell quickly cast afterwards. Karlach was keeping the way clear, as more illithid were summoned, hacking at tentacled heads until they rolled off. Tav took off for the portal, only to come face to face with her father. 
No. It was her dream guardian. The Emperor’s trick. 
When she had first seen the man in her dreams she had thought the same thing: he was just similar looking enough to her dear old dad to get her guard down but not so identical it would ring off alarm bells in her mind. Tav’s father was dead, after all, the Emperor had toed the line of familiarity on purpose. The single moment of hesitation was enough for the guardian to blast her with psionic energy, knocking her off of her feet.  An intellect devourer took its chance and leapt onto her. Searing pain spread through her abdomen as claws dug in and tore. It was climbing up her body, ripping skin with every step. Her arm was pinned underneath one of its horrid legs, unable to cast, and she felt the thunderous pulse in her chest, the tingle of electricity in her veins — and then a dagger came down stopping the devourer in its tracks.
Astarion was above her, kicking the thing off of her. With a cry she felt the claws slip loose, blood pouring out of the wounds. The pain slipped away to the back of her mind as she flung forward, hands outstretched  when a chain of lightning erupted at another dream guardian which tried to stop Gale. Astarion helped her to her feet, shoving a meager healing potion at her. It was not enough to close the wounds, but it gave her a rush of new vitality and they ran for the portal
This was it. This was the final task. All they had to do was survive long enough to take out the Netherbrain. 
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After setting off the blasts at Halsin’s command, Rolan had launched himself halfway down the stairs, nearly stumbling and stepping on his own tail. There were a handful of Flaming Fists, armed civilians, Cal, Lia and even Aradin guarding the perimeter of the tower; he had to go join them. The store was always chaotic with all the summons wandering around and magical effects but this was a different vein of mayhem. Anyone he could find with healing magic along the way was running around, people were screaming and crying on the floors and any clear surface available. 
It sounded like Elturel. 
Shaking his head of the thought, he pushed through the doors. People were still running, trying to get through the doors of the tower and whatever building still stood to get away from the carnage. The square was full of bodies and blood and rubble. He spotted Cal and Lia, both alive and fighting well. Cal’s swing was strong, Lia’s aim was impeccable — he was able to focus on casting. An illithid floated forward, chasing after a meal of one of the Flaming Fists' brains, Rolan quickly cast color spray, confusing the creature and shortly after one of Lia’s arrows sunk into its elongated head.
Cal got stunned, his head in his hands as he wobbled on his feet, two mindflayers floating towards him. Rolan nearly tripped over his robes to grab his brother by his shirt and pull him back, Cal fell and as soon as he was out of the line of attack Rolan felt the boom of thunder erupt from his hand. The illithids were sent backwards, landing on their back, prone. 
“Cal,” he turned to offer a hand to his brother, “stay steady.” 
“Yeah,” Cal grunted, shaking his head free of the psionic force which had stunned him. “I’m good, I’m alright.” 
“Rolan! Incoming!” 
Lia’s voice called out before she let an arrow loose. His eyes flicked to the sky, a nautiloid was overhead, a beam of some sort beginning to glow with energy. 
“To me! Now!”
Aradin and anyone nearby enough to hear him huddled close, Rolan swiftly casting an orb of invulnerability. He had never cast it before, not successfully, but it was all he could think of to try. A slight red shimmer created a bubble around them, the nautiloid made its attack. A few people were decimated by the blow immediately outside of the orb, even a ravenous illithid in the middle of extracting a brain from a skull had not made it out of the way in time. The spell worked. Rubble flew into the air with the blast, and stopped bluntly at the barrier. 
Thank the Gods. Rolan thought to himself, sweat beading down his temple. 
Lia ducked in and out of the orb to shoot off arrows, clearing the path for some to make their way to the tower or within the confines of Rolan’s temporary protection. He managed to keep the orb up long enough for the blasts to cede after the nautiloid was distracted from attacking the ground by a Githyanki force of dragon riders. 
“There’s more coming!” Aradin yelled. “We should fall back into the tower.”
“The wards can only take so much,” Rolan snapped back. “Get out there and kill something or get out of the way!”
He never understood Zevlor’s well-known ire for the mercenary more as he fled inside. As he had said, more illithids came out of the woodwork. The alien army had not found it necessary to send any armored mind flayers — relying on the freshly transformed tadpoled masses which had been lurking in the city. They had numbers, but most of them were stark naked, and sloppy in the unusual new bodies. Many of them fell quickly, which was his only comfort against the slowly dwindling numbers of his own allies. If they just kept it up, they could maintain the line of defense around the tower. 
“Come on, Tav,” he heard Lia scream as another Flaming Fist fell to an illithid. “Just kill it already!” 
There was no way for Tav to hear them, but he understood the panic. He felt each second that passed since he set off the blasts from the tower as if it were an hour. They could not keep this up forever, and part of him knew that as intense as it was on the ground, up there where the brain hovered in the air it was ten times worse. 
“Tav needs us to hold strong,” he called to his sister. “We owe her that, at least.” 
Lia was too far away for him to be sure but thought he saw her jaw set in the same way Cal’s did when he was concentrating. His brother felled an illithid in one blow, clean and easy at the neck. 
“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Cal said, “but Rolan is right!”
It truly was the end of the world.
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When Tav hit the water, she blacked out for a moment. Her eyes opened and the gasp that wracked her body filled her mouth and lungs with water as she realized too late in her waking that she was in the Chionthar. She floundered to the surface, hacking and coughing. Once she had her breath, she started screaming for her companions.
“Here!” Gale yelled.
He was not too far off from her, hanging onto some floating debris, with an unmoving lump with white hair. She swam over, grabbing onto the debris. 
“Is he alive?” She panicked. 
“Breathing,” Astarion’s voice was weak, “stop screaming.”
“Where’s everyone else?” Tav felt herself succumbing to the confusion. “Karlach! Have you seen anyone? Wyll!”
“I’ve got Shadowheart and Wyll!” She heard Karlach call, a red spot in the distance, tethering two limp bodies as she kept them on their backs. 
Lae’zel, Halsin, Minsc and Jaheira were still unaccounted for. Tav’s eyes scanned the water, dawn hadn’t broken yet, it was still dark and the depths below were impossible to see into. The only real light was provided by the city which was still very much on fire. Just as Tav was about to give into despair, a giant tentacle broke the water, then another, in its grips was an unconscious Lae’zel, and Minsc who was sputtering and cackling like a madman. Finally a third, and Halsin broke the surface. 
“Minsc! Where’s Jaheira?”
“You look upon her!” He called back. 
Wild shape was one hell of a thing. Tav called to the giant octopus whose eye peered into hers as it breached the surface, telling Jaheira to grab Karlach first as she was treading water and trying to keep two people afloat at the same time. Tav watched, only vaguely hearing Astarion and Gale speaking next to her. She needed to see them all safely put upon the dock, she needed to know she had done it. She hadn’t lost anyone. 
“Stop trying to talk to me,” Astarion muttered. “I’m furious with you.”
“My love, I would have made sure you were transported out of harm's way,” Gale attempted to sooth him. 
“And what about you?” Astarion snapped. “What was I supposed to do without you?” 
She was not quite sure what they were talking about. 
“We were losing, Astarion,” Gale pleaded. “The orb may have been—“
“The orb?” Tav heard her neck crack as she swung her head so fast to look at him. She felt dizzy. 
“He very nearly blew himself up, again,” Astarion seethed. “I saw him reach for the dagger.” 
“Gale!” Tav scolded. “I told you — not an option!”
“Tav, please, if all else failed —“
“But it didn’t!” She yelled. 
“No,” he sighed. “No, it did not. So please, can we make it to land and put this to rest.” 
Just as Tav was about to argue with him, she felt a tug at her midsection, and uncomfortable stinging of pain accompanying the grasp. Astarion and Gale were lifted out of the water by tentacles  at the same time she was and they were being slowly carried to the dock. It was supposed to be over once they all made it on dry land. She had given in to the hope that she had finally led her party to their final battle without losing a single member. The victory was supposed to be sweet, and cathartic. 
The moment they caught their breath on the dock, Karlach’s engine started to fail. 
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The main floor of the store was cleared of most furniture to make room for cots full of injured people. Amateur and professional healers alike were running around madly, calling for aid from whoever was still standing. To his credit, he had begun to organize as best he could. It was still chaos, but he was managing to take requests, send off whatever volunteer was nearest to assist, and have Cal take on grabbing potions and herbs from the stores as needed. Rolan was no healer, but he could wrap a wound before too much blood was lost as some poor soul waited for someone to be available. He could also bark orders, arrange for Fists to section off high risk patients from those who could survive without immediate attention. 
There were two surgeons he had managed to recruit. Their space was at the very back near the necromancy supplies were, with a temporary shielding wall of stone. It didn’t drown the screams of agony as they operated but it prevented anyone from witnessing an amputation. 
When the heroes of the hour burst through the door of the tower, even amongst the chaos, Rolan knew something was wrong. They looked like hell. Jaheira was bleeding from a deep wound on her head, Shadowheart was limping, and even Minsc who was always quick to get back on his feet looked like he had been thrown from a twenty story building and felt it. A good chunk of the party was missing. Wyll and Karlach were nowhere to be seen. In fact way too many of them were just gone. Astarion, Gale and Lae’zel didn’t follow, and neither did Tav. Halsin was the very last of them in, carrying someone.
“A bed! Now!” The Archdruid’s voice boomed over the chaos
A humming sound rang in his ears, the entire world pinpointed to the form of the woman in Halsin’s arms as he was directed to place her on a free bed by a Fist. 
Rolan let his feet guide him to her side, a numb feeling keeping panic at bay. On the bed was a bloody mess of a woman, who in all appearances looked like Tav but… That surely wasn’t his Tav. That was an empty shell; the skin had no vibrancy, the only truly bright color was the blood leaking out of the deep wound in her stomach. Her eyes, open staring up at the ceiling, were empty. 
Shadowheart placed her hands over Tav and the glow of her healing magic flashed and ebbed away. She tried again, but the magic stuttered out. Shadowheart let out a strangled scream in frustration, pounding glowing hands into Tav's chest and each rush of power was weaker and weaker.
“What are you doing? Heal her,” Rolan demanded. “Fix her!”
“I can’t —“ Shadowheart’s voice cracked. 
“Shadowheart’s magic is spent,” Jaheira’s tone was sharp but even, the voice of a General. “And healing magic won’t work on her now. This is a magic shop — find a resurrection scroll.” 
Resurrection implied she was dead. Logically, yes, he could see that. Tav was dead, nothing more than spent flesh and blood. But this was not supposed to happen, this was beyond everything he knew of her.
She always survives. She always does the impossible. She can't be dead.
“How did this happen?”
“Rolan,” Shadowheart pleaded his name, disregarding the question, “do you have a resurrection scroll?” 
The buzzing in his ears stopped, the cacophony of the tower coming back to him. A solution that he could focus on. He took off in a sprint, jumping over the counter. His hands shook as he opened the safe where they kept the high value scrolls.  
“Rolan, that Florrick lady is here, she brought some — what’s wrong?”
He didn’t hear Lia come up, and didn’t take the time to acknowledge her as he started reading through the stock. “We must have one.”
“Talk to me,” Lia said again getting his attention, “what’s happened?”
An idea jolted him, there were stores and stores of supplies in the study. “Upstairs, in the study, the scroll collection —“ he quickly said, “we need a resurrection scroll.”
“But —“
“Check the vaults, check the study — find me a resurrection scroll!” 
Taking in his frantic tone, Lia ran off without further question. There was no possible way this was how Tav’s story ended. In a numb haze he remembered what little he knew about healing and divine magic; there was a time limit on a basic resurrection spell. At some point a soul was too far gone and True Resurrection would be the only other option. Plain resurrection scrolls were rare enough as it was, but a True Resurrection scroll was near impossible for most people to get ahold of. 
Chain of lightning, hold person, cloud kill — his hands fumbled to work as fast as he read the scrolls. He had no real idea how much time was passing, but each second was too long. There were dozens of scrolls, and he looked at each one. Finding nothing of use he ran around the counter to start up the stairs.
He should have told her at High Hall. He should have just said it. He should have thought to find a scroll ahead of time for this very purpose. What a cosmic joke, for her to have made it this far, only to die at the finish line. She deserved better. He would make sure she got a better ending than this. He nearly ran into Lia jumping the last few steps of the staircase. 
“I found one!” 
She held up the scroll and he snatched it out of her hand, narrowly dodging a healer as he ran to the bed where Shadowheart was praying desperately. 
“Found — the scroll —“ he stammered out, short of breath. 
“Use it, quickly,” Jaheira said. 
His fingers fumbled with the clasp that held it shut, as it unfurled he knew he needed to breathe through the panic in his chest. He could do an incantation, he could read the words off of a scroll as he had a hundred times before. There was not a God he prayed to usually, not one he thought to plead with specifically. Mystra, maybe. But given what he knew of her and her friends, Mystra might not be so inclined to help Tav. 
His willpower would have to be enough; this was not how her story ended, he repeated to himself. She was too good, too resilient, too kind, too forgiving, too infuriatingly wonderful — too loved.  Rolan was not going to let her disappear that easily, he vowed as he spoke the incantation.
The spell took hold, golden light shuddering Tav’s body, and then disappearing. For a terrifyingly long moment, he was unsure if it worked. But her eyes blinked, at first it looked like a twitch, but then they fluttered a few times and the light was back in them. Her limbs jolted like she had been electrocuted and then a truly shocking deep gasp for air had her sitting up on the cot. 
“There you are, Cub,” Jaheira said, a steady hand on her shoulder which emitted the familiar green light of her Druidic magic. “Didn’t think we’d let you get out of cleaning up, did you?”
“Hurts,” she sucked breaths in desperately. 
“Lay down,” Shadowheart said. “We’ll find a healer.”
“Where —?”
Rolan was frozen to the spot. She still looked so close to death. Her head swiveled over to him, eyes confusedly still searching for some sense of what was going on. 
“You.” Was all she said. 
“Yeah, me,” he breathed. “Lay down. You look awful.”
“Rude,” she wheezed but let herself ease onto her back. “I think you look… good…” exhaustion, pain or any combination of whatever her body was going through had her slipping out of consciousness. 
“Tav,” Rolan panicked, kneeling next to her. “Damn you, stay awake,” he grabbed her face in his hands and she gave him a heavy lidded stare. 
“Trying,” she said. 
She was still in rough shape. Halsin and Jahiera dumped the last dregs of their limited healing magic into her, doing just enough to keep her from bleeding out on the bed once more. Shadowheart tipped her head back for a basic healing potion, and it dribbled down the side of her face but it brought some of the vibrancy of her skin.
“She won’t succumb to the wounds, but she needs healing quickly,” Halsin seemed to be talking to himself more than them, as he took off to find someone to help. 
“You can rest now,” Shadowheart assured her softly. “Right, Rolan?” 
He wasn’t so sure. But Shadowheart was a healer, she knew better than him. He swallowed hard, and nodded. “That’s right.”
“Good,” Tav mumbled, “tired.” 
Shadowheart and Rolan watched as she slipped into unconsciousness. Her chest rose and fell, although shallowly. Shadowheart heaved a big breath, recomposing herself. She looked around the room, and then to Rolan.
“I need to rest, then I’ll be able to help,” she seemed to be telling herself rather than him. “I’ll stay here,” she said, “I’ll stay with her and rest.”
“What can I do?” Rolan asked desperately. 
“You are the Master of Ramazith’s tower,” Jahiera cut in. “This is your city, you have a duty to its people now — unless you wish to follow Lorroakan’s example, get to work.” Jaheira looked down at Tav, “we will look after her, as she has looked after us.”
Rolan never felt more like an outsider, and he felt he should watch whatever healer Halsin found. If only to see for himself that she was truly going to be alright. Shadowheart was watching the rise and fall of her chest with intense focus, and it felt wrong that she was the only one of their original group by her side. 
“Rolan, there’s a fire that they can’t put out over in Heapside,” Cal was there, Rolan hadn’t even heard him approach. 
“There’s summoning scrolls, water elementals,” he said distractedly. 
“Go,” Shadowheart looked at him. “We’ve got her.”
“And that is supposed to be a comfort?” He snapped. “She was dead just moments ago under your watch!”
“She didn’t tell us,” Shadowheart said back, a tone of shame in her raised voice. “Everything was happening so fast — she didn’t tell us she was hurt!”
“No one here is to blame,” Jaheira was annoyed, he could tell by the arch of her brow. “She would tell you the same.”
He felt another comment on the tip of his tongue, ready to rage and yell to do something with the gods awful feeling in his chest. He nearly lost her. 
“Rolan,” Cal said, “we have to —“
“Fine! Fine.” 
The city still needed saving, despite the threat being gone. Who knew how much help was needed across the city. Running to everyone's rescue was what she would tell him to do, but still he was afraid to leave her side. He touched her cheek: warm, alive, despite looking worse than she ever had after a fight. 
“She’ll be alright?” He asked, wincing slightly at the desperate crack in his voice. 
Shadowheart nodded, her hand coming to squeeze his, “I promise, I won’t let her slip away again.”
Rolan had no other choice but to trust her.
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I solemnly wish, I could have this in real life...
We lay on the couch, cuddling, side by side, my right arm and right leg mostly on top of you, wrapped around you, my head on your chest. You hold me with your right and brush through my hair with your left hand.
We just lay like this and enjoy each others company. I feel your chin on top of my head, I feel your warm belly under my own body. Consciously I pull you tighter, I need to feel you more near me. I want your warmth, your skin, your body, your soul so close, that there'll fit nothing in-between. I'm not horny, but I feel this longing to melt our souls, to feel close and loved and cared for, as I want to make you feel it all too. I want to feel whole, I want us to feel whole. You meet my tightening grip with hugging me more.
"Make love to me, baby." I whisper in your shirt. Your hand stops moving through my hair and your warm fingers just stay on my tuft. You press a kiss on the top of my head.
Then your hand goes to my jaw and gently you pull, making me look up at you. "Yes, baby." Our lips meet, first hesitantly, like teenagers kissing for the first time. Your lips are warm and soft, your beard tickles at my mouth, against my nose. Our lips meet and seperate with tiny little kisses, lips slightly open and we gently take the other ones between our own. Tiny spaces, that get moist from the other ones saliva. My tongue sneaks forward and I brush it against your lip carefully, almost shy. Your lips part more and invite me. The tips of our tongues approach each other and start dancing slowly, but occasionally pulling back. I have completely turned towards yon on top of your body now and kind of straddle you from above. I can feel your hardness against my belly and the tingle in my pants. Your hands are on the back of my head, playing with my hair. Mine cup your jaw or touch your cheeks, your ears between my spread fingers. It seems, that we're both making sure, the other one won't get away, not that either of us wants to.
One hand from you, slips under my shirt and your finger tips trail along my waist, finding their way to the small of my back and almost hesitantly sneak in the back of my pants to squeeze my butt. Your other hand digs itself in my hair. Your hand on my butt, makes me want to get my legs up. I pull my knees right and left of your body upwards, then both your hands start to lift my shirt. I sit up on your hips, clearly feeling your enjoyment growing between my legs.
I lift my arms, as you lift your chest to pull the shirt over my head. It lands on the floor and I wrap my arms around your back, preventing you from laying back down on the couch, holding you close.
Your hands trail up and down my almost naked back, with gentle pressure. You kiss my neck and make me shudder. My hands take the rim of your shirt and we're getting rid of it the same way. When it's pulled over your face you pull me in more and press your lips on mine. Hesitation almost completely forgotten as my mouth just willingly opens and our tongues entangle passionately.
I'm sitting on your stretched out legs and wrap my own around your back. Our hips gently move. It's not conscious, it's more that our bodys just can't stop themselves. Our hands explore the other ones body, trailing up and down, brushing through our hair, and unbotton each others pants. Our mouths won't part.
You gently start to push me with your body weight to the other side. We interrupt our kiss shortly, so I can slide down from your legs, you follow right behind getting over me to press another kiss on my mouth.
Your fingers sneak into the rim of my jeans and carefully start to pull it down. I lift my butt and let you slide them off. They are tight, so you slide my slip down with them, following the way with kisses down my inner tights. I press my butt into the sofa to lift my legs, when you reach my knees with the fabric. You keep my calves in the air, kissing my knees, while pulling my pants over my feet.
Both your hands lay themselves on my naked shins and brush with light pressure up my body, as you follow the path with kisses again. I shudder by your handling, my hips sligthly circle.
Your hot palms move up more, when your face reaches my pussy. Your beard tickles against the soft flesh of my inner tights. I inhale audible, when your tongue makes a trail from my left inner tight right to my clit. Your hands have found their way under the cups of my bra, squeezing lightly.
All of me shudders as you start licking my pussy slowly. My ass and my shoulders dig into the couch, my belly moves up, my body's making a bridge.
After some blissful moments, my hands takes a hold of your head and I make you move up to me. We kiss passionately and I wrap my naked lower body around you, while your hardness presses against my wet pussy wanting to blow your pants.
We get back up together, continuing to kiss as long as possible and you open my bra and pull it from my shoulders in the process. Your hands brush against my boobs gently, while you sit down on the couch, your feet on the ground and then I get on front of you. Together we finally get rid of your pants and your hard flesh stands up, the moment he's freed from his cotton prison.
I'm doing it the same as you, but first I kiss your belly and belly button while you sit up and are starting to breathe more heavily. My kisses wander down to your inner tights and my lips end up on your hard junk. I kiss you inch by inch, not leaving out a spot of skin. When I reach your tip, my tongue comes out and I circles it. Spreading my saliva all over. The spit in my mouth lands on top your tip and my tongue makes a wet trail back to your belly.
I climb on your legs and straddle you, my knees against the backrest, right and left of your ass. Your hands are on my waist, as I use my left hand to guide you to where we both want you to go. Your tip easily slips between my wetness.
My hands go to your jaw and we kiss again, as my whole weight really really slowly pushes down on you, pushing you more into me. I gently bite your lower lip, until I'm all settled. Your arms wrap around my middle and you pull me in, never to let go. My own arms wrap around your back and I pull tighter. Our naked skin feels, as if we are just one and we slowly move in unison. My breasts press against your chest, the few moments, we're not kissing uninterrupted, our cheeks touch, pressing every possible part of our naked bodys together as close as humanly possible.
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papermint-airplane · 10 months
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I haven't had an intrusive thought that has caused actual panic in a long time. I've gotten really good at facing my intrusive thoughts and being like "you're an intrusive thought and I'd like you to go ahead and shut the fuck up". That sounds unhinged af but that's an actual legitimate strategy that therapists tell people with OCD and anxiety (like me) to use. And it works well after a certain point (getting to that point is its own battle though). Now I can shut them down fairly quickly so they don't cause as much distress as they used to.
Sometimes, though, some of them slip through my defenses and make me have A Very Bad Time™. This is one of those times.
Hit the cut if you're interested in how I combat these.
Last night, as I was laying in my bed trying to sleep, my OCDemon was like, "I'm going to ruin this bitch's whole life". I knew, I just knew that a car or low flying plane or something was going to crash through my bedroom window and game-end me right then and there. That is extremely unlikely to happen for multiple reasons I don't think I even need to enumerate to people whose brains don't hate them, but I was so sure it was going to happen and I was going to die.
I fought it the way I've been taught. Facts and logic, baby. "My bedroom does not face the road". Check. "In order for a plane to hit my house, they'd have to be flying so low that I would hear it coming and have time to respond in some way". Check. "I need to sleep. I have work tomorrow and there's nowhere else for me to sleep. I have to be here." Check.
It didn't work right away. It never does. I had to keep going over and over it in my head while forcing my body to lie still. At this point, the fight or flight mode had already kicked in. I was shaking, feeling irritable, feeling scared, heart beating super fast and skipping beats, sweating, all your classic physical symptoms. I wanted to get up and get as far away from that bed as I could, but I held myself down. I kept repeating the facts. "You're not in any danger. Nothing is coming through that window."
Eventually, I relaxed enough to sleep but it must have been fitful. I don't remember anything because I was zonked out but I woke up to my sheets and pillows halfway on the floor so I must have thrashed around like a dying fish all night.
I am exhausted and I'm still feeling a heightened sense of anxiety, but it's way more manageable right now. I just keep wanting to check the news which is unfortunately an OCD compulsion of mine whenever I'm feeling anxious because I guess my brain wants a reason to be anxious. Wouldn't ya know it, this shitty world loves to give it those reasons. Lucky me. I am fighting it as much as I can. My rule is no checking more than twice a day (I will literally do it hundreds of times during a bad flareup) and if it gets too bad, I have to text my therapist. I'd rather not bother him off-hours so this means I'm fighting my existential dread with my fear of being a nuisance lmao.
This is rough and anyone else going through this, I am right there with you. It sucks not being able to trust your own thoughts. It sucks having to fight your own body. If I had a cure, we'd all be fucking cured right now. But all I have is an arsenal of techniques that work just barely at best and not at all at worst. All you can do is keep fighting.
I need a nap.
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darlingpoppet · 4 months
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Where The Dead Forget — Chapter 6: Guilt
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Hades Gameverse Memory Loss AU | Achilles/Patroclus | E | Chapters: 6/22 | Words: 60,353 (Ch 6: 9,450 words)
Chapter 6 Summary: Achilles reflects on his reunion with Patroclus and has bad dreams. Hypnos demonstrates his abilities as an ASMR youtuber. Patroclus tells a story. Achilles has a better dream.
Excerpt:
Achilles enters his bedchamber, his mind as cluttered as the room before him. The sight of it at once makes him weary, and he sinks onto his pallet with a heaving sigh.
Why won’t you just… forget about eternal glory? The both of us together… don’t you see? We are already glorious.
On the journey home, Achilles had turned the pages of his memories, rereading them all with fresh eyes. The low simmering sense of revulsion in the pit of his stomach had only grown more acute as he traveled lower into hell, and now, back in the depths of Tartarus, he feels deserving of its darkness and its isolation more than ever.
There is no one in the world who loves me more than you, is that not so? So then… why not let me be the one who loves you the most?”
“Indeed,” he mutters aloud into the silence of the room. “It is a question I should have asked as well. Why couldn’t I have allowed myself to be the one who loved you the most, in turn? Glory be damned.”
Achilles has realized he is even more of a fool than he thought. How could he have forgotten Patroclus’ words at this crucial moment? How could he have not even listened?
Time and again, Achilles has always only been thinking of what he himself wanted for the two of them—never compromising, never considering what would make both of them happy. Has Achilles ever truly seen Patroclus as his own person? Or has Patroclus always been simply an extension of himself in his own mind, someone Achilles could not fathom to separate from his own ego?
Lord Hades had even made the suggestion for both of them to enter Asphodel together—it could have been their second chance at the modest, peaceful existence Achilles had eschewed in favor of a life of glory. How careless he had been to immediately reject it out of hand.
And now, here is the consequence. Patroclus was left with no choice, and so he drank—the ultimate act of defiance—in order to reclaim his agency once and for all. The nature of his memory made it apparent that this was an extraction with all the precision of a surgeon’s knife, wholly himself but for that one missing piece: the metastasized part of Patroclus which had drained the vitality of his very soul, slowly killing even his eternal self. Even then, it seemed, it had been too late, with Patroclus left completely spiritless and despondent. But perhaps in his mind, it was better to be miserable and alone by his own choice, rather than to be tormented by the memories of a man who did not truly honor him the way he should have.
Read the rest here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/43292178/chapters/132992266
Previous Chapters: 1. Drown | 2. Grief | 3. Grace | 4. Weakness | 5. Together
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emotionalcadaver · 3 months
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I continue to be amazed at how I have literally indicated in every way I know how that Love Me Where I'm Most Ruined contains polyamory, and yet I STILL have people coming at me, getting mad at me over the story featuring polyamory.
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p-p-panda · 7 months
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Random art vent lol
I get tired of constantly pouring my heart out when asked about my stuff only for it to fall flat. Like why did they even ask me to begin with??? Just to tease me??? 😭 bruh
#this is very different than what I usually post#I don’t really like doing it but tbh this has been bothering me for the past couple of months in different places I’m active in#and it’s starting to become annoying#i listen to everyone’s lore and ocs or whatever the convo is only to end up with like one reply and they die on me. AND IT KEEPS HAPPENING#IN DIFFERENT Group chats#man I’m just so tired of even lore dumping all the time at this point 💀#it seems like when I actually have the motivation to finally open up that’s when I get ignored the most :/#I’m probably being a sensitive baby rn so I might delete this later. only wanted to get it off my chest#i can listen to other people talk for hours then the second I speak it feels like bore everyone 😔#i only have like 1 or 2 people that actually listen to me when it’s my turn but most of the time I’m always listening. which isn’t bad but#man#it hurts and kinda makes me wanna cry lmao#and it makes me just half ass shit at this point when people ask about my ocs/lore since I don’t know if they want a tiny bit of info or#if they’re actually intrigued :/ I just give up now#ok I’m done this is way too long ahaha#vent#it’s not that I constantly want atteion because I don’t and I love listening to other people and sometimes when I ask they don’t talk to me#but will to someone els even when I’m super invested so idk at this point#😞#i admit I have times when I’m shy but it mostly due to not wanting to wast peoples time anymore#ok I will shut to the up#gn#it’s like 1am for me#and I really don’t want people to ask only because of this post. trust me that’s not what I’m trying to do i swear. only getting out feels
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floorpancakes · 9 months
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#twitter repost#i guess its probably not THAT controversial i think i just really wanted to get that off my chest#xxxholic#i guess#no but like even tho mostly the quality was incredible the fact they basically were like HAHA ASSPULL and then dipped soon after is so..#i think im even a couple chapters behind and im not even rushing to catch up on them cause it burned me so bad#also cause its clamp im like. they can and will get worse sometimes with their weird shit and i cant trust that they wont#in fact holic is a funny one cause altho im less familiar with other series i know full well holic is one of their least Messy™ ones#iykwim#obviously thats not an inherent metric but like holic is usually nonsense free but i will never stop giving clamp bombastic side eye after#parts of the og ending and MOSTLY the fakeout alt universe mystery arc turning into an irrelevant fetch quest like#how do u produce media so perfect and then do that#and its also so long past tsubaholis main writing period so its like who cares??? why now???#especially cause it was like boom hiatus#anyway thats the main reason u never catch me rereading rei much at all#like i dont have an encyclopaedic knowledge of it solely cause the twist outcome pissed me off and made me so fckin nervous for the future#also im just worried now the movies done theyll be like oh we wrote 2 chapters ajd back to hiatus good riddance!! like#I've seen the digital fear struck into the eyes of x fans i wouldnt put it past them#anyway im still excited but god damn am i nervous and fucking suspicious as hell#sigh#why cant we live in a no fakeout more interesting arc ender world where also they decided to not pull a teacher student age gap 'ship'#ship in quotes cause they obviously dont fcking love each other#but clamp is SOOOOO addicted to that trope they wanted to mess with it a little like a cat with yarn even if its non romantic#like they were like we r a thirsty flower if we dont do something problematic even as a plot contrivance with no romance we will dieeeeeeee#one day i when holic is public domain (yeah im gonna live until like 500 im so cool like that) i will release hit doumeki movie#not trying to be a hater btw they do great work but damn if those ladies dont make me nervous as hell for where this whole thing could go#or if they even wanna finish it
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pourcap · 2 years
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who writes (sappier) love letters: laurent or damen?
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lunas-treehouse · 25 days
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If you are a person who shits on classic disney princesses read this
you are embarrassing yourself. most the shit youve said isnt true.
cinderella wasnt "waiting for a man" she was raised in an abusive household by a step mother who veiwed her as less and made her act as a maid.
aurora being asleep most her movie isnt her fault. she was cursed.
snow white was an abused girl who was happy to be with the dwarves and even happier to get her prince i dont know why thats considered terrible. wouldnt you be overjoyed if someone took you to live in a whole ass castle???
ariel was a curious girl who loved to learn about humans. she was as much as an anthropologist as she could be in her situation. and her dad literally DESTROYED all her special possessions in front of her only for ursula to use her distress to manipulate her. she wanted to be human- getting derek was a bonus.
you dont shit on anna for ending up with kristoff in the end do you? you dont shit on belle for loving the beast [unless its that stockholme syndrome debate]. i dont see you guys talking about real disney princess issues like pochahontus in general or the fact tiana was a frog most of her movie adding to the trend of poc being animals in disney movies.
and a lot of you just love the villains- proclaiming theyre better than the protagonists and theyre innicent.
ursula manipulated a vulnerable teenage girl and then tried to kill her and derek along with many others who were on that ship.
malefacent cursed a fuckin baby.
hades was creepy as hell to meg and literally owned her.
jafars a fucking creep who perved on a 16 year old girl.
like- you can totally enjoy them as villains its why disney villains are looked to as this like expectations for villains almost, but dont act like theyre good people or theyre better than the protagonist they hurt. especially when youre JUST mocking the princesses- that shit reeks of victim blaming and mysoginy.
grow up. being kind and persevering like the disney princesses do will always be better than treating people like shit like the disney villains do.
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