#I hope their relationship will get fleshed out a bit more in Shadow of the Erdtree

[warriordragonart]

I find the connection of Miquella likely being Torrent’s former owner - the Spirit Calling Bell being entrusted to Ranni by Torrent’s former owner - Miquella being depicted alongside three wolves in a statue - and Ranni having the Lone Wolf Spirit ashes to be really interesting so here’s a dubiously canon compliant headcanon based on that!

#I like the idea of Miquella trying to befriend his Carian siblings and giving them gifts #Ranni genuinely liking Miquella is fairly supported as well #but it’s really awkward with the whole Ranni murdering Godwyn thing #I hope their relationship will get fleshed out a bit more in Shadow of the Erdtree #elden ring #ranni the witch #miquella #ranni #my art #elden ring fanart #miquella the unalloyed

[avocado-writing]

crawling in as per your bg3 request..

astarion with a tav/reader that’s just constantly cold, like shivering a little bit all the time and their hands & feet are just. ice cold

rating: T

pairing: astarion x reader

“Good gods, you’re freezing!” Astarion complains as his hand accidentally brushes yours before it jolts back in shock. You groan. 

“I know.”

“Even more than me, and I’m practically a corpse.”

“Yes, thank you, Astarion,” you mutter through your gritted jaw. You’re having to clench your teeth together in order to prevent them from chattering, although unfortunately you’re having little success. As if in apology your paramour shifts in his cocoon of an embrace around you, bringing you against him tighter.

This is a new level of cold, even for you.

You always run on the chilly side. You can often be found scooted up close to the fire when you make camp, or tucked in the corner of your tent with extra blankets on top of your bedroll. It’s always been bearable, a bit funny, even - something to joke about with your travelling party - but that was until you got to the Shadow Lands. 

You haven’t been able to feel your fingers or toes for days. It’s torture. The sun doesn’t shine in this place so of course there’s no warmth. You can get a good night of sleep at Last Light Inn where Isobel’s magic keeps it at bay, but on the road? Well, there’s no hope. You’re reduced to a shivering wreck. 

Though Astarion complains, he has been trying to help you where he can. Right now he’s holding you in his arms, attempting to warm you up with his nonexistent body heat. Acting as if the pair of you are just normal lovers and not two weirdos thrown together by fate while attempting to stop a mindflayer invasion. 

A scant few weeks ago he’d have been offering to warm you up in a rather more physical way; with him buried inside of you, lips ghosting your neck, hands on whatever willing flesh he could find. But your relationship has changed, now. Evolved. Become something more, something solid and real. He’s not so eager to dive beneath the covers - at least like that - and you wouldn’t ask him to. You’ll give him all the time he needs. 

It’s nice, what’s happening between the two of you. But at the moment you’re turning every cuddle into a mass of shivering limbs. 

Astarion sighs again. But then he speaks and it’s gentle. 

“You know, you could ask Karlach to come and act as your hot water bottle. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Or maybe that druid, Halsin - he’s been looking at you like he wouldn’t mind cuddling up…”

Though he tries to joke you can tell there’s an undercurrent of self-doubt in there. You harrumph and settle deeper into his arms, opting for a simple retort:

“I don’t want them, I want you.”

You feel him still against you at that unexpected flash of affection. Process it. Then he slowly extricates himself from your grasp. 

A little whine slips from your throat and he pats the top of your head. 

“Now, now. Stay put, pet, and I’ll be right back.”

You grumble but do as you’re bid. He steps out of your tent and you have no choice but to remain as a frozen little ball, foetus-curled and chilled to the bone. It’s a relief when he returns with more blankets and a pot of tea, likely brewed over the fire pit outside. 

“Where did you get—?” you begin to ask, as he tucks the extra bedding around you.

“Well, Gale is fast asleep, he won’t notice he’s missing them until the morning,” Astarion reasons. You laugh, not sure if he’s joking or not, but not really wanting to know the truth - you’re holding onto this even if it was pilfered off the camp’s resident wizard. 

You watch as Astarion pours you both a cup from the little metal teapot. Steam rises soothingly from it, warming up the tent interior. It makes sense he has one for you, of course, but…

“I thought you didn’t like drinking tea,” you say. What you mean is, I thought you didn’t like drinking anything that wasn’t blood. 

“I don’t,” Astarion sighs, but brings the cup to his lips and chugs it down anyway. It must be far too hot to be comfortable, and you’re about to ask what he’s doing - but then he reaches out to untangle your hands from where you have them vice-gripping the edges of your blankets. He folds them in his own, softly and sweetly, then brings them to his mouth where he breathes out a long, slow stream of tea-warmed breath into your palms. 

“Oh, Astarion…” you whisper, finally able to feel your fingers for the first time in days. You feel him smile against your hands. 

“Mmm, I wouldn’t get used to it,” he tells you in a way which suggests he wouldn’t really mind you getting used to it at all. 

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget

#astarion fic #astarion x you #astarion imagine #astarion x reader #astarion x tav

[skittlesfics]

something soft

name: something soft

pairing: Joel Miller x gn!Reader

word count: 1212

summary: Settling down in Jackson has given you and Joel back a lot of things.

content/warnings: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, established relationship, Jackson!Joel, vague references to outbreak difficulties, unbetad

author's note: OMG, so I have been writing Joel fics/Pedro character fics for over a year now and have been too much of a coward to actually post anything. I decided to finally suck it up and join an event so that I was forced to post. This is a valentine for @beskarandblasters . Hope you enjoy! Happy Valentine's Day, y'all. -

Joel’s hand was warm where it wrapped around your ankle, his thumb stroking idly at the skin just below the joint as he turned to the next page of his book. It was a large-type Western that you had looted from an old library as a joke – but one that he became more appreciative of as the strain of years on alert made it harder and harder to focus on smaller script at night.

Many things were different now that you were settled into Jackson proper, but this was definitely one of your favorites.

Quiet moments out on the road meant that Joel was planning your next move or that all three of you were gathering energy for whatever horror was to come next. There was no space for leisure or relaxation in that quiet, even if there were rare moments of levity dappled into the shadows of survival. Here, though, in Jackson, you were both learning to let the quiet in.

Joel pushed his thumb into your ankle a little harder, just enough to pull you out of your reverie. Those memories were a dangerous path that you both had trodden too many times; He could see the spiral starting in your expression even before you knew it was there. When you lifted your eyes to meet his gaze, he smiled, sliding the bookmark Ellie had drawn for him as a Christmas gift into place. (Holidays were another thing that Jackson had given back to the three of you.) You let your eyes get drawn to the sketch of the astronaut floating over something that vaguely resembled the moon. I’m reading a book about anti-gravity. It’s impossible to put down!

“Got something to show you, if you’re amenable.” He said after setting the book down carefully on the fraying arm of the couch. His voice was rich and low, thick with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his eyes seeking something in yours. If you didn’t know any better, you might have said that Joel Miller was nervous.

You couldn’t hold back your own soft smile, swinging one leg off of Joel’s lap in an attempt to sit up. He held onto your other ankle for a moment, tracing idle circles into your flesh with his thumb before realizing his error and releasing you.

You sat up and bookmarked your own novel. Well Read Mother Clucker is what yours said, with a drawing of what you supposed must be yourself as a chicken. “I suppose I’m amenable.” You answered, nudging his shoulder as you stretched to loosen your taught muscles.

He huffed, fond smile still crooked on his lips, and stood.

“You stay right here and close those pretty eyes. Give me a minute.” He commanded. He pushed himself up with an audible complaint from his knees, a soft grunt marking the effort in the motion that he had hidden from you for so long before Jackson. You bit back your giggle, letting him believe that the sound blended in with the staccato crackles from the wood in the fireplace.

With your eyes closed, you tried to map Joel’s path through the room. You could hear his footsteps leading away towards the kitchen, the board next to the dining table groaning in protest. He didn’t say it, but you could already hear his grumble. Gotta fix that come springtime. That was a new thing in Jackson as well, planning for the future in this one place. Building a home. The thought brought a warmth to your chest that distracted you from his next movements.

Firelight danced behind your eyelids, and you let yourself sink back into the couch, shifting into the pocket of warmth Joel had abandoned as you heard him open a cabinet door. It creaked only slightly – the China cabinet perhaps? You wondered if he had finally listened to your complaints about chipped plates and managed to loot something whole to eat off of. Or maybe he’d managed to find another bag of stale coffee out there somewhere to replenish your dwindling supply. Practicalities that felt like luxuries.

Joel didn’t leave you waiting long. You followed the path of his footsteps back to you, tilting your head towards him even with your eyes closed. He leaned in and pressed a soft, warm kiss against your forehead, reaching out to cup your cheek before straightening again and placing something on the coffee table in front of you with a heavy clunk. The plates then?

“You can open.” He said, sinking into the seat you had abandoned in pursuit of his warmth. “It’s not much, but…”

You weren’t sure if he trailed off or if your brain simply stopped processing sound as you opened your eyes to reveal a small red crock speckled with white and black spots. There was a clumsy ribbon tied out of strips of sun-bleached red fabric from God-knows-where around it, but inside. Delicate, carefully crafted roses were arranged in an explosion of natural wood tones. If it weren’t for the colors, they would have appeared lifelike, almost. You reached out, carefully stroking one of the petals. It was nearly translucent, but undoubtably wood. He had made them.

When you looked over at him it was through watery eyes. He was watching you, expression impassive, betrayed only by the slightest quirk at the edge of his mouth.

“You made these?” You asked, breathless.

“’s hard to get fresh flowers in February up here.” He explained with a shrug, like that explained it. Like it hadn’t taken hours of painstaking labor to shave each individual petal out of wood that he had cut down and prepared with his own hands. Like he hadn’t filled your heart to bursting.

He opened his arms and you slid into his lap, throwing your arms around his shoulders and squeezing tight, like he might try to get away. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as you rained kisses across his face, one large hand finding your hip and resting there, the other finding your chin to pull you in and kiss you properly. It was a slow kiss, soft and reverent, like he wanted to memorize the press of your lips against his, the soft sigh you let out against his mouth, the way your body relaxed into the warmth of him.

“They’re beautiful, Joel, they’re everything.” You whispered finally, dropping your head down to rest against his strong shoulder.

“They’re alright.” He deflected, cradling you against his chest, “Next Valentine’s Day, I’ll get you something nicer.”

It struck you then, the date. Another thing that Jackson had given back to you was a calendar to go by. You hadn’t gotten used to tracking the days as the passed yet, more focused on the weather than a number. But of course Joel would notice, especially after he saw what Christmas had done for you and for Ellie. Valentine’s Day here, after the end of the world.

You burrowed your face into the warm cotton of his shirt, knowing that he would feel the wetness of your happy tears against his chest and not caring. He held you there, pressing a kiss against the crown of your head. Something simple, something soft, something yours.

#SpaceSistersSecretValentine #Joel Miller x Reader #Joel Miller Fluff #Last of Us Fluff #Joel Miller Imagine #PPCU Fluff

[deadmarygolds]

Knock

A/n: Yerrrr we’re back at it again with another toxic Sukuna fic! I can’t help it, the guy is stuck in my brain and I’ve gotta ride the wave.

Content Warning: Abuse mentioned, abusive relationships, stalking, home invasion, lots of cursing on the reader’s part, not proofread. Sukuna being himself, non-curse AU

You awake suddenly with a gasp, eyes instinctively darting around your dark room, searching all corners for whatever it was that roused you. Cool satin sheets are trapped in your tight, startled grip, the textile straining so hard against your nails that you swore it would rip. Slowly, to the tune of your heartbeat returning to its normal rhythm, you unwind your fingers and will your body to relax. It must’ve been a dream, one forgotten the moment you opened your eyes.

That had to be it.

Knock Knock

The blunt, loud thunk of flesh against glass grabbed your attention by the hair and dragged it towards the large floor to ceiling windows to the right of you. Windows that were the sole reason you’d chosen this apartment. The bounty of natural light seemingly too good to pass up influenced your signature to glide onto the lease with barely a second thought.

Knock Knock Knock

Whoever it was, or whatever it was didn’t seem too concerned with the noise, like being caught trying to break into a single young woman’s apartment was the very last thing they had to worry about. You squint, eyes studying the thin barrier between you and whatever the fuck that was, but you can barely see. Like the darkness outside somehow became denser, concentrated right in front of your window during the one time you really, really needed to be able to peer out. You frown, annoyed, and crawl out of the cool embrace of your bedding before cautiously padding across the soft white carpet.

You don’t bother turning on any lights, it would only introduce reflections to further hinder your ability to see outside. Instead, you lean against the glass with your hands cupped around your eyes, hoping to spot something mundane to explain the sound away. Maybe that fat, suspiciously intelligent raccoon finally figured out how to get your attention. The idea nudged the corners of your full lips upwards into the tiniest of smirks, a meager laugh beginning to bubble up from your belly-

BAM BAM BAM BAM

“Shit!,” you squeal as you jump back and stumble, landing haphazardly on your ass. The deafening hammering on the window doesn’t stop, though really you’d never even be able to tell the difference between that and the hammering of your heart as you finally got a good look at who the fuck was pounding on it. Pale pink strands shadowing darker ones underneath were plastered to his wet forehead as Sukuna stared back at you with nothing short of pure malice glinting in his brown eyes. Brown eyes that looked more like neon crimson paired with the grin that unfurled on his devastatingly handsome face.

He was soaked, like he’d been lurking outside your home in the torrential downpour all damn night.

“What the fuck?!” Again you’re shocked into action, scuttling across the floor until your back hits the bookshelf behind you. Somewhere far off you can feel the thrum of books being rattled in their shelves and hear the soft thump of something, probably a rogue manga, hitting the floor beside you. You pay it no mind though, not when your orbs are locked in the stare down of your life.

Sukuna, who’d been savoring the very evident fear painting your expressions with a bit too much enthusiasm, lifted his fist and rapped against the glass again, though this time with his scarred knuckles. “Open up,” he mouths and repeats the motion. You don’t move a muscle, instead choosing to sit in avid terror at the impossible situation playing out before you.

Sukuna was supposed to be in prison. He was supposed to be in a prison across the fucking country. He was supposed to never be able to find you, you’d made sure of it. Hell, your half assed parents had even went out of their way to fund your move, promising that they’d help keep you safe. You’ve changed your name, your identity. New socials, new ID, even a new birthday. His ex girlfriend didn’t even exist anymore.

So how the fuck was he staring at you right now?

Your phone. The police. You need to call the fucking cops right fucking now.

Urging your body to move, you scramble to your bed again, your hands searching the sheets frantically for the device. But just as your fingers brush the cool surface of the screen, the sound of straining and then breaking metal reverberates through the air. You bolt, running past him just as Sukuna managed to slide the now broken window up. It’s like your limbs know the grave danger they’re in as you barrel down the short hallway towards the only other locking door in the place; the bathroom. The decision to put off actually decorating your home turned out to be both a blessing and a curse.

There was nothing to impede you, but that also meant there’s nothing to impede the man who now casually strolled out into the hallway behind you, either.

You slam the bathroom door hard enough that you’re more than certain every neighbor around you heard it, and twist the lock firmly. You resist the urge to press your body against the wood in an attempt to keep him out, instead choosing to wrench open the bottom drawer of your counter and fish out one of the few things you’d acquired for protection. A hunting knife with jagged, razor sharp edges that fit snugly in your palm. Gripping it tightly in hand, you back into the wall opposite of the door, pushing yourself against the plaster and tile so hard you could meld into it and become one.

Father God you wish you could just melt into that wall.

Sukuna spares you his usual taunting, instead going straight for the kill and battering the door open with just one powerful kick with his combat boot.

And there he was, six foot something and massive. Looking every bit of the God he and his complex thought he was, the pinkette flexed his hands as he stepped over the broken bits of door and lock that now lay scattered to dust and rubble on the cool linoleum. His grin hadn’t wavered even the tiniest bit, not even when he spotted the knife in your hand.

“Long time no see, Poppy.” You physically cringe at the nickname as it rolls off his tongue, the sound assaulting your ears like nails on a chalkboard. Poppy like the flower, the flower that produces opium but way stronger.

“Like heroin,” he’d mused one night after maybe the third or fourth time he’d bloodied his knuckles and your face, “I can’t quit you, and I can’t get enough.”

Your phone clatters forgotten to the floor and you desperately grip the handle with both hands. You’re shaking so hard that you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to stab anything effectively, and tears begin to blur your vision and streak your cheeks in their wake. Sukuna’s grin widens into a full on snarl.

“When did you turn into such a weak little bitch?” He steps forward and you press back harder, “Running to the fucking pigs, ratting me out over one little fucking fight?” A little fucking fight that left you with three broken ribs and a punctured lung. One look in the mirror would confirm that your nose hadn’t healed right, either.

“We could’ve worked things out, talked like adults, but you ran away like a fucking pussy, tail tucked between your legs and all.”

He’s on you now, so close that the very tip of your knife is buried snug into the cotton of his still wet band tee, threatening to puncture skin and delve into his stomach. Your hands itch to push it in further, but you’re frozen. You are unhappily reminded of just how big he is as Sukuna bends over you, caging you in with arms corded in taunt muscles thicker than your calves.

“What do you say we try this again?” He whispers softly, lips brushing the skin and tasting the tears on your cheek. His breath smells like mint and tobacco.

He’s sober.

He’s never been sober when he’s angry like this.

“Tell me why you want to leave me, Poppy?”

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x black reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk fanfic

[whatyadrawin]

The Fruit After The Flesh 18+ -CHAPTER 2-

Masterlist

Approximately 2,663 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt(HeadCanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings: Moderately strong language

A/n: This is the chapter giving more context and backstory to the Hewitts and the rude farmhand. Things pick up from here and will continue to keep on that exciting trajectory but remind yourself that I am the lord of the slow burn lol, I like building up to the fleshy bits. The artwork is what's keeping these chapters from coming out so quickly, I didn't want to go full flat color this time but goddamn my ADHD symptoms are making shit a lot harder to focus on so please have patience, I assure you all it is worth it. Please enjoy and keep an eye on the masterlist linked above for updates.

tag list: @fan-goddess

Chapter 2

The next day came with less heat than the first, the sun was frequently blocked out by thick white clouds that rolled against its light causing brief shadows to lay on the land. You started unpacking more and more things from the container you shipped to the house before you moved, making sure that everything that you needed was properly put away. Eventually it was time to head over to Luda Mae’s house and you wanted to make sure to look presentable for tea time. Thoughts of what her family was like raced through your head, you especially wanted to know who the mysterious masked man was. You slipped on a nice pink sundress that you made yourself, you covered your shoulders with a white cropped cardigan and some white sandals that were comfortable to walk in.

You decide to visit the farmhand again in an attempt to make friends so he wouldn’t be so hostile, you grab your things and head down before you make your way to Luda Mae’s home. You spot him tending to a peach tree and you walk over.

“Hey there, I don’t mean to bug you when you’re busy but I just wanted to see if you would take a break and chat for a bit?” you tried to use your friendliest smile.

“Ya can’t see I’m busy girl? Why don’t you go screw off with your riches and leave the farm to the only person caring for it all these years!” his words were so needlessly callous, but you continue,

“I know you’re busy but why don’t you tell me what I can do to help? It doesn’t have to all land on your shoulders anymore”

 He laughs to himself and says “Why? So, ya can just fire me when ya get the hang o’ things? Women can’t do this kinda labor, why dontcha just sit there and look pretty”

The sexism was shocking but you didn’t want to let that garbage stop you “I understand you are upset from the change but I assure you I just want to be friendly and helpful”

He turns to you with a smug look “What kinda friendly we talkin’ ‘bout here?”

You get creeped out as he stops his work and looks at you in a more predatory way, but you persist,

“I just mean you don’t have to worry about doing all the work by yourself, I can help you, and by friendly... I just want to have a civil professional relationship with you, nothing more”

“Thinkin’ ya deserve some kinda good treatment huh? How ‘bout me? Don’t I deserve compensation for the work I did all these years? I ain’t talkin’ bout wages neither”

You wonder what he means by that, so you try offering solutions “What do you need? Maybe I can get you a better living situation or more tools to make the work easier?”

He didn’t like anything you had to say, “Ya think it’s just that simple? I like where I live, I like being left ALONE!”

You feel a knot forming in your throat, being treated like this was so hurtful “Ok, well, I’ll leave you to it then. Have a good rest of the day”

He made you feel like shit, all the memories of people bullying you and your old friend were coming back and you just wanted to get away. Your heart was racing with anger and the familiar feeling of an old depression started to creep back in.

You start making your way towards Luda Mae’s home and hope that the walk calms your nerves and lifts your spirits enough to enjoy the rest of your day. The sun was peeking out from behind the thick clouds and brightened the dry road before you, tiny little white flowers sparsely lined the sides of the road and made you smile. You closed your eyes and made your mind blank, only listening to the gentle wisps of the wind rustling the tall wheatgrass, and the crunch of dry dirt with every step you took, some birds could be heard in the distance chirping cheerfully. You felt like you were in a different universe where time stood still and it was just you and the earth around you.

Shortly, you arrive at Luda Mae’s property, she had a wire fence blocking the four grazing cows in and there were a lot of cars sitting in a lot near the main house, it seemed odd but you just assumed maybe one of them was a mechanic. You walk up toward the barn and hope to see that mysterious masked man but the barn is empty minus some clucking chickens strutting around. You make your way up to the door and knock, an older man answers it, he looks you up and down and smiles,

“Well now, I didn’t know it was my birthday” he says. You can hear Luda Mae yell at him to shut up and let you in. He drops the smile and waves you in, making you walk closely to get past him. Luda Mae meets you as you walk in and she introduces you,

“Sorry ‘bout him sweetheart, this is my brother Charlie. Come on in dear, I can’t wait to talk with you, Loretta brought some real good tea for us to enjoy” She gestures for you to follow her and you speak to Charlie as you pass through,

“Nice to meet you Charlie, I’m Y/N*”

He smiles as he looks at you saying “Mhmm, I’ll remember that” you feel a shiver of discomfort after he says that.

You follow Luda Mae through the house which has very old furnishings, its large with high ceilings that are dotted with large fans to circulate the air; The décor was definitely very dated but kept clean, the furnishings may have once displayed wealth in a past long gone. In a large living room, you see a man reading a newspaper, Luda Mae stops at the doorway,

“Hey Monty, turn ‘round a sec”

The man was older, he turns around peering through his large thick glasses “Yeah?”

“I’d like you to meet the young woman who took over Tilly’s orchard!”

He sets down his paper and tried to turn to face you better “Oh! I didn’t know Tilly had children?”

Luda Mae replies “No, this is Y/N, she is a distant relative of hers”

You make a shy response “It’s nice to meet you sir”

He smiles “Well she’s real polite ain’t she? Nice to meet you too kiddo, I’m uncle Monty”

Luda Mae guides you over to the back porch which has Loretta already seated at the table. Luda Mae waves to her and says,

“Loretta, this is Tilly’s family, the one I told you ‘bout”

Loretta was a big woman, her cheeks were rosy and full, her dyed black hair was perfectly styled up into pin curls remniscent of another time, she smiled and said “Well, now ain’t she just a pretty little thing!”

Luda Mae gave you a smile and sits you down in the chair next to Loretta, you set down your basket and go to shake her hand saying “It’s really nice to meet you Loretta, my name in Y/N”

Loretta smiles and Luda Mae asks what you have in the basket you brought. You lift the basket onto the table and show them the fruits you picked for them today. Luda Mae claps in approval saying,

“That is so kind of you to bring some fruit over, I ain’t had a good peach since Tilly passed.”

You still weren’t quite sure about the way Tilly had died, you did not get much information out of the Lawyer and the files said there was no reason for an autopsy since she was so old. You ask Luda Mae and Loretta about it

“I don’t want to open old wounds or anything but, do either of you know how she died? I never got a proper answer”

They both looked at each other and Loretta answered “Well now Tilly was very well liked by everyone who knew her, she lived here a while you know. While yes, she was old, she was still in good shape and the sheriff’s department in the next town over didn’t give us any details, just said it was from old age and left it at that”

Luda Mae chimes in “I am suspicious that Dover did it”

“Luda Mae!” Loretta shouted in shock.

Luda Mae crosses her arms and continues “That farmhand has been a cruel and unappreciative man for as long as I remember, I tried to tell her to get rid of him what with all his talk about taking the orchard someday, but she was too kind-hearted and wasn’t able to keep up with the demands of caring for the trees. She was always looking for the good in people, even the evil ones. Bless that woman.”

Loretta nodded in agreement that Tilly was kind, she looked at you and said,

“You know, Fuller was doing well in the past, there was big business in cattle and meat packing. Everyone was makin’ good money ‘til the ranchers died and their property managers sold off the cattle to northern companies, that killed this towns economy. People were leaving in droves and so was the money.”

Luda Mae looked out into the field and added “It got to the point where we all had to resort to terrible things just to survive, but there was no way I’d let my family starve.”

Loretta gave Luda Mae a stern look, her eyes wide, she cut in “That is until Tilly decided to plant a bunch of fruit trees from the seeds of the fruit she bought from the store. The Texas sun made those little sprouts explode into full size trees, and she had us all fed by the fruits they made, we didn’t have to just survive no more, we were able to live normally again. It was all thanks to her”

You smile at the fact that someone from your family was regarded so highly, it gave you a warm feeling. Luda Mae pours you some tea and follows up with,

“Tilly made sure that we had animals to provide us with bounty, everyone shared what they had, even before the trees were makin’ enough to bring in money, in return we gave her the manure for the trees.”

Loretta looked antsy, she changed the subject “Well now, that’s enough of those depressing times.”

Luda Mae and Loretta started talking about the town and how things used to be, you sat listening to them for an hour until you noticed the mysterious masked man. He was heading toward the barn and you could see him tending to the cows inside, he was even bigger in person, his body looked like it was used to working hard, his muscles were large but had no hard edges as if his strength was supplemented with a rich diet full of American cooking. The man was brushing the cows, plumes of dust and dirt would fly out from each swish of the brush. To see him close was astonishing, you felt like you were seeing a new kind of human, he was so gentle with the animals and yet his appearance was very intimidating. You tried to look and see if you could get a glimpse of his face but his back was turned to you.

Luda Mae notices you looking and says “I see you’ve noticed my boy there”

You snap out of your trance and blush in embarrassment, she laughs and adds,

“He’s a real handsome one if I do say so myself, his name is Thomas. He’s real shy, but as sweet as they come. He’s a good boy, extremely helpful with managing the animals and taking care of the property.” She pauses and puts her hand to her chin “You know, he’s ‘round your age and its high time he meets someone nice, I’m gonna call him over.”

You felt butterflies for the first time in years, you quickly respond “That’s ok, he looks pretty busy, maybe he should be left alone”

Luda Mae smiles “Come now dear, he can come say hi, it ain’t no bother” She calls out to him “TOMMY! COME SAY HELLO TO THIS NICE YOUNG LADY!”

Tommy looks up quickly, he spots you on the porch and freezes.

Luda Mae yells after him again, “THOMAS BROWN HEWITT, YOU COME HERE RIGHT QUICK! DON’T BE RUDE NOW!”

He furiously shakes his head, turns and runs into the barn out of sight.

Luda Mae sighs “I’m sorry sweetheart, he really is a very nice boy, he’s just awfully shy, especially ‘round pretty girls, the poor dear”

You felt a wave of relief that someone else was maybe as anxious about meeting new people like you were, you reply “It’s ok, I’m sure I’ll meet him when he’s ready”

Luda Mae gently places her hand on yours “I’ll make sure of it, he needs to make some friends, it gets mighty lonely ‘round here. With someone as sweet as you I’m sure you two’d get along just fine”

Loretta takes a final sip of tea and gets up saying “Well, time for me ‘n Monty to head home, thanks for the conversation, Y/N, it was a real treat to meet you”

Luda Mae thanks Loretta for the tea and says goodbye, she then turns to you and says,

“Well, I know you probably want to get back to that orchard, please don’t let that prickly pear Dover get to you, Tilly kept him ‘round because he worked hard, no matter how awful he behaved, just let him be, pay him and ignore him the rest of the time. If you make friends with my Tommy, well, I’m sure Dover won’t be a terror”

You get up from your seat and say “Luda Mae, am I in danger with Dover?”

Luda Mae puts her hand on her heart and says “I’m so sorry for scaring you dear that was real thoughtless of me. I’m suspicious of Dover yes, but there’s no way he will hurt you, none of us will let him”

You thank her for the tea and leave from the back porch making your way towards the barn hoping to get a closer look at Tommy. When you reach the barn doors you see Tommy on the opposite side of the barn facing the open doors fiddling with some hay. The butterflies are welling up in your stomach making you feel sick with excitement, you stand there watching this enormous man whose back was extremely wide and his forearms were thick and scarred. You were struggling to take in as much of his image as you could before you could quietly sneak off, just as your eyes started travelling down south, he turned around and saw you.

“I-I’m sorry!” you squeaked as you bolted off down the driveway.

You felt so embarrassed at being caught watching him, you hoped he didn’t think poorly of you. You spent the walk home trying to calm the butterflies and stop blushing -I can’t believe how creepy of me that was, he is going to think I’m a freak!-. When you get home, you see that Dover was in his small house watching something on a small tube tv with a large bunny ear antenna. You feel sad that his accommodations are so meager and decide to speak with him again tomorrow to try just one more time to get in his good graces, you always believed that you could kill them with kindness, especially in the event that he really was a danger as Luda Mae said, then you would want to be in his good graces. You start to make dinner and think to yourself -I hope I am able to properly meet Tommy-.

#what ya writin #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x y/n #slasher community #thomas hewitt x afab reader #leatherface 2006 #texas chainsaw massacre #my art #the fruit after the flesh

[pixelmensupremacy]

Hi Mai 💗 Could I request “hey, lean down a little- i want to give you a kiss.” with Connor? The cuteness is 💕

A/N: Thank you for requestiing this, dear! I got kinda wild writing this. I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 0.5K

Warnings: GN!reader, Deviant!Connor, not proof read, kinda suggestive, so MDNI

Bright amber was set ablaze on the circular diode on his temple, his brows were furrowed together- a mimic of shock and confusion he had picked up from (Y/N) along his infamous path of deviation. The call of his name immediately anchored his attention to the familiar voice he had registered in his CPU- the one of his beloved partner he associated with nothing but the best of sensations, intense, yet inexplicably pleasant. Cocoa brown pupils were focused on them as they were standing on their tip toes, their hands latched onto his shoulders, balancing their weight against his.

“May I help you?” thirium raised to his cheeks as he questioned, his arms reluctantly rested on the small of their back- yet another human-like interaction he became accustomed to throughout his experience with the whirlpool of sensations called deviation and even so more throughout his relationship with (Y/N). They stayed silent and instead tightened their hold on his shoulders, bringing him closer to them as much as they could, yet his lean, slender figure was still towering above them, throwing a shadow- shaped after his flawless features- across their face.

“Hey, lean down a little- I want to give you a kiss.” Their voice was quiet, demanding, yet assertive all the same, clearly giving out the invention behind their strange antics. Connor was frozen; his CPU froze, causing him to blankly stare at them as they gazed back at him in anticipation, a glimmer of innocent expectation shone behind the (E/C) of their irises as their finger nervously fidgeted with the collar of his dress shirt.

“Okay.” The words were barely audible as he himself was a tad bit reluctant to the motion that brought him so many different and intense emotions; despite having been in a committed relationship with (Y/N) for as long as he had come face to face with the experience of emotions, Connor was still getting used to the different aspects of intimacy and kissing was one of them. The pillow soft flesh of their lips brushed against the synthetic ones of his own, sending electric shockwaves across his systems. They hummed in delight, only enhancing the already intense sensation, yet their fingers slithering in his neatly combed back locks was the last string that brought him to the edge of blissful oblivion. An uncontrolled gasp drowned in the base of his vocal box, muffled by (Y/N)’s tongue pressing against his unintentionally stimulating the sensors of his synthetic tongue.  Even if he wanted, Connor coulnl’t battle the strong sensation of bliss that washed over his system akin to a tidal wave of pleasure that flooded his program with alerting notifications, warning him about consequences he could care less about now that his partner’s soft, muffled hums resonated against his sensors. He found himself cling to their smaller form, lifting them off the ground and instead bringing them closer to him; the warm of their skin pulled him in akin to a moth to a flame. He enjoyed himself- maybe a bit too much.

divider credit

#dbh fanfic #dbh imagine #dbh x reader #dbh rk800 #rk800 x reader #connor x reader #connor x you #connor rk800 #request

[theyandereonmyoji]

Myoji-san, I'm so happy you're writing for sth :D !!! thank you for your lovely works - the quill petting one was so adorable and nicely fleshed out. Still can't get over Shadow being low-key needy for pets and finishing work earlier for it... I also hope your day is going nicely. I was wondering if I could respectfully request a love triangle hoho ( Shadow -> MC -> Silver ) ? I'm wondering how you'd write these two competing for the time & affection of another. If this is not something you'd like to write I completely understand, though I do so look forward to any of your future posts :･ﾟ☆

Rivalry: Yandere Shadow the Hedgehog and Yandere Silver the Hedgehog

Awww thank you so much! Don’t worry, love triangles are totally allowed! Also, I have to say that a couple of people have been asking for Silver content, so I’ll probably write headcanons for him really soon. Anyways, hope you enjoy! CW: mentions of potential murder

These two couldn’t be any more different at first glance. Shadow is the overly stoic type that keeps you at arm’s length (or tries to anyways, doesn’t really work as well as he thinks it does) and Silver, a hedgehog who’s somewhat naive and wears his heart up his sleeve, especially when to come to how much he loves you. However, they do have something in common, and that’s they will do anything, and I mean anything to keep you safe. These two have just suffered too much, one watched his best friend get murdered in the past, and the other was born in a future that was ruined from the start, they just want to have someone they can hold on to in the present, and that someone happens to be you.

Shadow’s more closed-off nature makes him a bit jealous of just how openly Silver can express his feelings towards you. The fact that you two are able to share so much with each other, that he can get so close to you without a care in the world, it’s something that Shadow wishes he could do, and loathes about the time-traveling hedgehog. He has come to terms that your relationship with him could never be like that, and he’s willing to do anything to keep you safe, no matter the cost, yet seeing how Silver has the same resolve as him and can allow himself to stay close to you, he loathes it. If Silver knows any better, he should stay away from you, lest he wants to be considered a threat to your safety.

Silver is willing to admit that Shadow is the stronger one out of the two, and he can’t help but envy a bit how reliable Shadow can be towards you. It doesn’t matter how big or small the issue might be, he’s not only willing, but also able to help you with literally anything. It makes him think: If you have Shadow in your life, then how could you ever spare a single glance at him? He wants to be your hero, yet how could he ever be if you had no need for someone like him? One thing is for sure, those thoughts are not going to stop him trying his absolute best for your sake, and who knows? Shadow might be a lot more dangerous than you think, so why go to him when you got Silver? He will never leave your side, ever.

You know how there’s that stereotype that girls pretend to not hate each other in front of others while giving each other death glares in private? Yup, that’s them. It all seems so normal while you’re around, hell, they don’t seem to mind that the other is there. However, the moment you have to go to do something and leave the two, they’ll start confronting each other. Shadow will state how inexperienced he is and that how could he ever keep you safe if he can even beat Shadow in a fair fight. Silver would get angry easily and point out how dangerous Shadow can be towards you with his dubious moral compass and that out of the two, he was the one that tried to destroy the world.

Stuff would rarely get physical, and even if it did, you would never find out. Obsessed with you as they may be, they’ve silently agreed to never involve you directly into any disputes they might have, whether it is one-upping each other in their efforts to have you pick them over the other, or just throwing hands in a good-old fashioned brawl. You might notice the small signs of their rivalry, like Shadow giving off Silver a smug look when you ask him for help, or Silver giggling towards Shadow a bit when you let him hug you, but it’s rather subtle and when you try to question it, both of them will go out of their way to deny any of that, even covering for each other sometimes. 

Honestly, I see this rivalry going one of two ways. Worst case scenario, things will escalate so badly that they will eventually fight each other to the death, with the winner being able to live out the rest of their days alongside you. On the other, and most likely scenario, these two might be able to set their differences aside, and focus on what is truly important: protecting you at all cost. Rivals as they might be, they both are man enough to recognize that the other hedgehog has something they need but severely lack. They both want what is best for you, and even if still argue about who’s doing they job better, at least it’s a scenario where no one dies…you will have two overly powerful, protective and possessive hedgehogs though so good luck with that.

#yandere #yandere sonic the hedgehog #yandere sonic the hedgehog x reader #yandere x reader #sonic the hedgehog #sth #yandere headcanons #yandere shadow the hedgehog #yandere x y/n #shadow the hedgehog #silver the hedgehog #yandere silver #yandere silver the hedgehog #request #green tea

[malinaa]

2023 WRITING REVIEW

tagged: no one i just wanted to do this and i forgot about it soz </3 tagging : board of directors i'd tag u here but this is mostly fic-based so sorree... anyway if u have already done this my b.... i wld like to see ur post tho @evcndiaz | @brimay | @usignedupforthis | @seek--rest | @posallys | @dustorangeheartssnowman | @adhd-merlin | @queerofthedagger

number of stories posted to ao3: 34 ±1 bc i updated a fic from a while back <3

word counted posted for last year: 90k... a feat (i wrote more but it was ofic so add like maybe 10k to that)

fandoms i wrote for: alex stern series, merlin, house md, pjo, spidey, hunger games, doctor who, & the grisha trilogy

pairings: merthur / arwen / mergwenthur / mergana, darlingstern, hilson, percabeth, petermj, everlark, tenrose, malina

stories with the most KUDOS: jealousy, jealousy (house md) with 522 <3 BOOKMARKS: except my life (merlin) with 137 <3 COMMENT THREADS: rip current (pjo) with 38 <3 *technically the answer to all of these is tested with torment but that's a fic i updated so i don't reallyyyyyy count it

work i'm most proud of (and why): thread of gold (arwen, bbc merlin) because i don't exactly post 2nd person fic and tbh most people HATEEEEE 2nd person fic AND i got people to enjoy it. HA!

work i'm least proud of (and why): coffee drinker (gen fic, bbc merlin) because it was just a promptfic and i didn't even really feel like posting it but i wrote it so i might as well yk?

share or describe a favorite review you received: any review that quotes a line but this one from judas kiss (arwen, bbc merlin)...

THIS. IS. WONDERFUL ❤️❤️❤️ *creates bookmark with gusto* I LOVE that you dug into what it might have been like for Gwen while she was under that enchantment! It was so creative to have her past memories blurring with glimpses of the present during the enchantment. I *felt* her disorientation, and it *hurt*. I felt so bad for Gwen all over again! 😭😭😭 That aspect of this story could have been a fantastic standalone one-shot in its own right, but noooo, you raised the bar and KEPT GOING and made it even better!!! I love that you showed Gwen and Merlin staying friends after Gwen becomes queen, and I love how she confides in him and how he immediately drops everything to go look for the offending piece of jewelry. The bit about Arthur’s incredulity at Merlin’s method of testing the enchantment was a great dash of humor, and I love that you fleshed out the concept of the enchantment to be something the others could experience so that they could truly *know* that Gwen had been innocent. And don’t even get me started on how much I love Arthur’s “Forgive me.” I love how he doesn’t think twice about humbling himself in front of everyone because his focus is solely on Gwen, consumed by the urgency of doing the right, honorable, and loving thing in that moment. You write Arthur and Gwen’s relationship so beautifully. 💕 Well done; I hate you (/affectionate) for all these feels. 🥰🫂👏

a time when writing was really, really hard: august through october... idek why i was literally in agony not writing

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: writing jj in spider-man: homewrecker because i've NEVER written him before (in my memory) and i was like. Hello .

a favorite excerpt of your writing: cannae lie i have a few favs so... killing is a love language (mergana, bbc merlin) Heartbreak snakes up his throat, constricting him at the sight of her. Morgana’s beauty is incontestable even like this, but her hatred wore her down to her bones. Gone were the full cheeks and rosy lips, the perfectly combed hair, the wardrobe that would put princesses to shame. Now, her face is sunken in, her hair a curled storm, her dress is merely black rags at this point. thread of gold (arwen, bbc merlin) Your father’s presence is larger than life. Larger than love. It looms. It casts shadows long enough to hide every hope and dream you’ve ever had for yourself. the boy and the girl (malina, the grisha trilogy) Memory fractures into shards. Real or not real? There’s Mal in the meadow. Mal buried beneath the hanging tree. Mal cold in her palms. There’s a sky darker than night. Her hands bloodied. A knife lodged in his heart. Her knife. His blood. Her fault. She killed him. She loves him. Her fault. Rest her head on his still chest. Her fault. No heartbeat. Her fault. No warmth. Cold light spilling from her palms. She killed him. The Saint’s only true worshipper martyred.

how did you grow as a writer last year: my hopes from last year was that i finally finish a multichap fic.... 😭 does a short 3-shot count. besides that i wrote more consistently and i'm finally Used to my writing style. i think.

how do you hope to grow this year: hell if i know if i could write something longer than 20k that'd be great 😭😭😭😭

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): the board.... @rosesau / @bipercabeth / @stellwood fnh...... i'd tag katie but she absconded from tumblr smh. anyway hi freaks n geeks

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: oh i don't even know. nothing ig

any new wisdom you can share with other writers: bro idek the more i write the more writing becomes fundamentally so hard to talk about ... sorreeee

any projects you're looking to starting (or finishing) this year: IF I DON'T FUCKING MAKE PROGRESS ON MY PLAY I WILL BASH MY HEAD INTO A WALL. THIS CAN'T KEEP HAPPENING. ATLAS AND VIVIAN YOU WILL BE WRITTEN ON THE PAGE INSHALLAH

#tag games #2023 #writing #text #tais toi lys #not the numbering getting fucked. whatever

[peacexatxlast]

Hi! I was curious if you could write a few headcanons (or make a one shot, whichever you prefer) of Jackson Rippner with a goth partner? Of course, Jack's not exactly as ordinary as he comes off at the start of the movie, but I've wondered how he'd be with an s/o that's just a bit more out there than he is, and how he would take in aspects of the subculture (the music, fashion, goth clubs, etc.) as a goth myself. I'm super excited to see what you come up with. Thanks 🖤🦇⚰

Hello! Thank you for the ask; this was really fun! I did some googling on the subculture itself (mainly the clubs because I didn’t know they had actual clubs for it and that was super, super interesting!!) so here’s my thoughts on how he’d react based on what I’ve read and such. I hope you like it~ xx

Warnings: mentions of scars, sexual content ish, dark themes (he’s a terrorist so~ mentions of murder and stuff ahhahah), stalkery Jackson?, super hot and sexy goth gf, overall 18++

First, let’s address the very pretty elephant in the room: tattoos. Taking it from the scar scene where Jackson is almost entranced by the raised scar tissue on Lis’ chest~ he’d love any tatts you have, if any.

Intrigued, completely mesmerized by the inked flesh, he loves to kiss and lick and nip at the flesh.

Skull tattys? A bat tattoo with the rib cage showing? Pretty finger ink? He loves it! 10/10 obsessed with your ink. If you have lyrics tattooed, he googles the lyrics later and listens to the song.

Leading to music:

He really doesn’t hate it. Actually, he kinda like the overall vibe of it.

He was very iffy at first to listen, thinking it would be annoying screaming music that made his ears bleed… but then the songs you showed him?

He felt like he was being transported back in time to a dark castle, laying on the dusty marble floor. He swore he could see you standing above him in all your glory with candlelight casting shadows across your pale skin, whispering the dark secrets of his sins. To put it lightly: it was an ethereal experience.

He really likes “the sanity assassin” by Bauhaus. (Ironic? HAHAHAHHA absolutely)

First time you played it for him, he snatched your phone and put that shit on repeat. First time he heard it in a club? He grinned wildly.

He loves the architecture of a goth club. You couldn’t get him to dress up for it, which you were worried was an issue while being there because some people are all about the non existent ‘dress code’, but Jackson as you have learned very early on in your relationship, is very persuasive.

The dude can get along with anyone. His presence, his aura, those terrifying blue eyes that can either be the sweetest sapphires welcoming you with a warm glimmer or the coldest, most dangerous icy ocean swallowing you whole. Thankfully, you’d never been on the receiving side of his death glare, and you don’t ever want to.

Some people gave annoyed stares at the man, but really, he didn’t look too out of place with his stance (and the way he was clinging to you like a baby koala). He ignored the stares at him, more focused on the starving ogles placed on you. Then, you saw a side of him you’d never seen before: murderous gazes. All for your honor? Talk about a knee bruiser ;)

He enjoys sharing in the things you like. Before meeting you (properly) Jackson had done his research on the goth subculture. He wanted to know how to talk to you and get to know you without looking like a moron. Of course he had seen you first, figuring out your name and address so he could see how you lived and what you did. He was thoroughly surprised that you didn’t live in a bat cave and sleep with a coffin. You were normal! Just incredibly hot and intimidating. He loved it.

He’s never had trouble speaking with women, but he found himself nervous to approach you. After all, what if you didn’t like him and thought he was boring?!

He was anything but boring, but obviously he couldn’t tell you that at first. Then he’d have to get rid of you, and he really didn’t want to do that! Jesus, you were so exciting it was almost unbearable to wait so long until he got the balls but then-

You came up to him first!

Okay… maybe… he was staring a little bit at the gothic style store he’d followed you into. Maybe you found it creepy or weird or endearing? He didn’t know, only smiling sheepishly as you approached him.

“Can I help you?” You we’re so bold, it nearly knocked him on his ass. And your sass? That was so sexy.

“Actually, you can. You look more qualified to assist than I, don’t you think?” His grin was so confident, so assure of himself. And yet he was kind and easy going. His bright, piercing stare devoured you.

“Are you looking for a style change?” Unsure, you nervously chuckled and glanced down at his modern dress. He dressed well in your opinion. Like a hot casual professor almost?

“Ah, no, I don’t look good in chains.” He smirked, “well, maybe, actually, it’s for someone special. And, she kinda matches your style. Would you help me find someone she’d like? What do you suggest?” And there it was…. You’d spent an hour and a half meandering about the store talking to this unbearably handsome man. He asked you everything and anything, getting to know you and the gothic culture you adored. He complimented your clothes and eyes and lips painted a dark color… it was so unfair he had girlfriend! After all, he was buying something for her…

Finally, sadly, your meeting had to come to an end. You helped him pick out this incredibly amazing dress for his stupid girl… and outside the store, he smile and thrusted the bag in your direction.

“So you’ll wear this Saturday? I’ll pick you up at five-thirty?”

The rest was history really. You were so shocked and happy it was hard to get out the three letters, ‘yes!’ Cheeky bastard was so sly and sauve, you melted, agreeing to meet him without a second thought. And of course, the date went extraordinarily well, the dress fitting perfectly because “oh, she actually has almost the same body type as you. Just get your size and it should be fine.”

And taking it off after the date? That was his favorite part.

#jackson rippner imagine #jackson rippner headcanon #jackson rippner hc #cillian murphy imagine #red eye #jackson rippner #jackson rippner x reader

[moonstonediamond]

Okay so I know I said I was working on my D&D story, wich I am, but I had finally finished this OSD idea that @thegreatpapyrus759-blog had from the Nightmare tournament. They commented on @calcium-cat post about how they would like to see someone make a fic about OSD Nightmare taking care of Dream and passive Nightmare. So I wrote my Idea of how I think it would work out.

Disclaimer/Background info: In my interpretation this passive Nightmare is the "manifestation" of Midnight's lie to Dream. Basically this Nightmare/Nighty had to deal with the villagers chopping down the tree and being taken away from Dream, but it also didn't play out exactly how Midnight described it. I already planned out a few chapters but I'm not 100% sure if I'm going to turn it into a full series. Also the, I guess I would call it a preview of Chapter 1 happens after Chapter 8 and before Chapter 10 my reason for before chapter 10 and not 12 all goes back to how I already planned a few chapters and there's a certain character from chapter 10 that would really help me flesh out Nighty's personality and relationship with the other Characters and would help explain his reaction to later advents example being the advent in Chapter 12.

Now with that out of the way I now Present to you (Still working on the title) OSN a OSD AU.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waiting for Midnight and the gang to return is dull, and Dream’s ability to keep himself busy is mediocre. He had colored enough to fill an art museum; playing by himself had already gotten boring, and he hadn’t dared to touch the board game he and the guys were playing.

*Portal opening*

“Midnight!” Dream excitedly exclaims as he promptly sits up to the familiar sound.

Dream rushes over excitedly to see the guys, but his excitement is short-lived as there is just an unfamiliar-looking portal in the middle of the room.

“Midnight?” Dream called

No response

“Crossy?”

No response

He called for Dusty, Kiki, and Rory but still no response.

Dream waited for a bit, but no one walked out. Dream started to get anxious; who or what was on the other side? Why are they taking so long to exit the portal? Is the person good or bad? Are Midnight and the guys on the other side, and if they are, were they in trouble… was he going to lose them too?

These questions kept spinning around in his head until he couldn’t take the uncertainty; he walked up to the portal fully prepared to walk through… except he wasn’t fully prepared, it was more half prepared. He stopped just a few inches from the portal when new questions formed in his head.

What if it’s dangerous? What if the portal closes behind him? Would he be trapped on the other side? Will Midnight get mad at him for leaving the castle again?

Dream paused for a second before coming up with a brilliant idea. He doesn’t have to fully walk through; he could just poke his head through, so he is technically not leaving the castle.

So that is what Dream did.

__________________________________________________

In an instant, a gust of cold air hits Dream’s face; he looks around, barely able to make anything out past the portal’s light. The only thing illuminated was the cracked, mossy stone brick floor.

Dream opened his mouth to call out, but someone spoke up.

“I already said I don’t know.”

The voice sounded desolate, somber, and timid. Like whoever said, it had lost hope, but most of all, it sounded… familiar.

Dream took a step out of the portal.

“N-nighty?” Dream felt a bit hesitant.

After a moment of silence, Dream heard a creaking noise, like someone was standing up from a creaky bed. A figure, around the same height as Dream, stepped forward from the shadows.

“D-Dream?” Nighty sounded shocked

“Nighty!” Dream exclaimed as he ran over to “his” brother to pull him into a hug, but Nighty stopped him, backing further into the dark.

“How did you get here?”

Dream paused for a second; why did Nighty back away?

“Through there” Dream pointed to the portal before looking back at Nighty, trying to look closer at his facial expression.

The shadows cover up most of his face, but based on how dim and wavy his eye lights are…

"Y-you have to go." Nighty's anxious-sounding voice snapped Dream back into the conversation.

"What?"

"You have to go, Dream." Nighty sounded a bit more stern, "It's not safe."

"Well, I'm not leaving you here." Dream grabs Nighty's hand, causing him to flinch as he gets pulled toward the portal.

__________________________________________________

Nighty shields his eyes from the sudden change in lighting; he shifts his feet against the hard floor. We’re not outside.

"Nighty!" Dream's voice shouted, sounding concerned

Nighty flinches quickly, opening his eyes, ignoring the stinging pain as he looks around; I knew they wouldn’t have made it this easy; of course, they would...

"Nighty, you're hurt!"

I’m… What? Nighty looked at Dream, holding his scarred arms; Oh right… Nighty was relieved that it wasn't the villagers.

"Yeah, I’m-"

"I'll be right back." Dream interrupts as he lets go of Nighty's arms, leaving him alone.

Nighty moved his arm to try to stop Dream, but he was too fast. He looked around the room he stood in the middle of. There was a couch and some other stuff unfamiliar to him.

He looked behind him where the portal would be, but it wasn't there.

"I'm back." Dream announced as he walked over to Nighty with a small box in his hands. "I found the band-aids."

Nighty watches as Dream takes a small handful of dino band-aids from the box and starts to open them, placing each one over every scratch, scrape, and scar.

"Thank you," Nighty mumbled once Dream was done.

"You're welcome." Dream grind, he looked at Nighty’s expression, pain. Dream wanted to hug Nighty, but…

"Where are we?" Nighty mumbled, quickly looking away from Dream.

"We're in Midnight's castle," Dream answered, pretending he didn't notice Nighty avoiding eye contact.

"Midnight?" Nighty's tone shifts sounding apprehensive, eye lights glace toward Dream

Dream nods as he starts to talk about Midnight and the guys and how nice they are.

Nighty waits until Dream is finished. "Where are they?" His tone doesn't change

"They went out, but they'll be back."

Nighty doesn't say anything; he is still scared.

"Do you want to play?" Dream asks, feeling more anxious to help Nighty

After a few seconds, Nighty nods.

Dream smiles and takes Nighy's hand showing him to his room.

I hope this works.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So this is basically what I have so far, if I do end up making this a series I'll probably edit it if I think it needs to be, also I don't really think I need to explain this but I'm going to just incase, the words in italics are when a character is thinking, I don't use italics for every thought I just use it on the ones that the Narrator/I don't mention is a thought.

I'm still working on my D&D story I'm just currently working on the notes and revamping/changing the character sheets, notes, and world building. I'm hoping it would make my job a lot easier when writing the story.

Also I drew a quick little drawing of Nighty to go along with the story and there are some lore in the drawing as well as hidden details that connects to the lore.

(Teal Words: Chiped Tooth, Arm Scars and Palette)

#dreamtale au #undertale #undertale au #dreamtale #dream sans #nightmare sans #one small dream #working title #wip intro #d&d #status update

[shivvroys]

don’t let go of my hand - shivlina?

thank you for the prompt! hope u like it <3

read below or on ao3

"Don't let go of my hand."

everybody else can eat my dust

shall we make believe they’re chasing us?

---

It’s not the camera lights flashing from blocks away that makes her ask the driver to stop the car before they’ve reached the venue. Not the deafening noise of her blood rushing in her ears, or the way the corset of her dress is digging into every goddamn rib. It’s none of those things.

Karolina turns to look at her.

“We don’t have to do this, Shiv.”

She starts picking at the ugly pearlescent nail polish the stylist had insisted would elevate the look. It chips off in miniscule, unsatisfying bits.

“It’s not that. I just—need a fucking breather.”

She knows the excuse is paper-thin, that she’s been walking on red carpets before she’d learnt how to walk.

Karolina sighs, tapping the driver’s seat.

“How long would it take to drop me home, Ray?”

“The fuck?” Shiv turns to look at her. “We’re here, Karolina. Now you wanna go home?”

“We need more time—”

“You mean I need more time.” Shiv scoffs.

Karolina sighs, turning briefly to look out of her own window. The weather’s turning, too.

“Well, do you, Shiv?”

She watches the blinding spectacle unfolding not far from them, and asks herself if this is a sacrifice she can bear to make. If she’s ready to take this thing and thrust it into everyone’s selfish, open arms. Say “Here it is world. Eat it whole!” and pray the light shining over it won’t reveal it to be a mere shadow. Something they’d dreamed up in the dark, hungry for love and feverish.

 Karolina doesn’t look at her with disappointment, which hurts more than it should, because it means she’d already come to terms with it.

“And you’re, what, totally cool with it? You tell baristas to mind their business when they ask for your name, but you’re excited for People Magazine to know who you’re fucking?”

Karolina rolls her eyes, twisting the rings on her fingers and refusing to meet Shiv’s eyes.

“They already do, though, don’t they?”

Shiv nods, staring down at her hands. They’ve already had this fight, though the wound has yet to scar over, which makes it ripe for the picking.

“Yeah, and that’s my fucking fault too, right?”

She’s mature enough to not blame Karolina for not understanding, even if she can’t help the knot settling in her throat. Even though Karolina knows what it’s like to be someone’s before being one’s self—how hard it is to become a person after you’ve spent a lifetime being a daughter—she could never know what it’s like to be everybody’s. To only ever see a real park, with real kids, when your father needed to look human. To have grown men guess your bra size before you’d even bought your first one. To let those fucking cameras turn your own mind into a lens.

Ultimately, Karolina knows how to light the fire behind the paparazzi line, but Shiv’s felt the lick of those flames. The unrelenting scrutiny, the stiffening of the spine and careful arm propping—lest the flesh of her arms betray their shameful biology.

She lifts her gaze, begging Karolina to let them take the easy way out. To take the bait and let their bodies fight it out on the battleground they know best. This car, the walls of their apartments, the soft sheets Karolina buys laundry perfume only from a small boutique in Poland for. Places they’ve stuck their own flag in and claimed, with no great eye in the sky bearing down on them.

Not some dirty red carpet where every oily-faced motherfucker gets to lay claim to them. Where the space between Karolina’s collarbone and the freckle behind her ear isn’t a journey to make, but a number of pixels on someone’s screen. A publicly traded relationship with the whole fucking world as a shareholder. The numbers just don’t look good.

Karolina’s carefully controlled voice shakes her out of her thoughts, right as she’s about to draw blood from a hangnail.

“It’s just the situation we are currently in.” she says. “They’re already going through my trash. This is just a formality.”

“And we’re formally…” Shiv laughs nervously.

Karolina sighs again, raising a hand to rub the bridge of her nose. The dim light coming from outside hits the blush on her cheekbones like a ray of sun caressing a rosebush. A goddamn masterpiece painted by the sky, and Shiv’s meant to feel guilty for wanting to keep it all for herself.

“I’ll just go home.” she taps Ray’s shoulder, nodding at him through the driver’s mirror. “Next time.” she adds quietly.

Shiv motions for Ray to keep the engine turned off, as Karolina huffs out an annoyed breath, leaning against the rear door.

“Karolina. We’re right in front of the fucking place. We have the stupid fucking dresses on, the make-up—”

Karolina cuts her off with a glare. “Do you need me to say it’s my decision, Siobhan? Fine, I don’t want to do this. I want to go home.”

Ahead of them, some A-list must have arrived, as a dizzying wave of lights starts flashing.

Shiv turns to the light dimming besides her.

“I need you to understand what you’re getting yourself into. Once you’re out there, you’re theirs, Karolina. Anything that sells, they’re gonna want to take from you. And this—” She gestures between them. “This fucking sells.”

Though Karolina purses her lips, throwing her a pointed look, Shiv recognizes a glint of fear in her eyes.

“It’s different when it’s happening to you. I’m just trying to…”

“To what?” Karolina whispers.

“Protect you.”

Karolina turns her face away from her, staring straight ahead. Her jaw tightens, and Shiv watches the lights reflect in her eyes as they glaze over with tears. Like a compass, her eyes follow instinctively, and she has to tear her gaze away to stop herself.

Beside her, Karolina twists her rings, occasionally taking a sharp breath, as if abandoning a thought on its precipice. They sit there, watching as cars periodically stop ahead of them, before a flurry of camera flashes erupts. Despite the usual roar of traffic outside, Shiv can’t hear anything except the rhythmic whisper of Karolina’s breathing.

A shrill ringing slices through the silence, startling them both. Shiv takes her phone out of her clutch.

“It’s Sarah.” she sighs. “We’re way past late.”

She silences the phone, but lets the call keep going.

Karolina takes a steadying breath, before turning to her.

“Tell her we’re almost there.”

Shiv frowns. “You’re sure?”

She waits for a small nod, before picking up the phone. Even with voice isolation, she can make out the chaos surrounding Sarah. The call ends with a sharp click.

“You’re sure?” she asks again.

“About that?” she nods towards the venue. “No. But it’s a part of being with you.”

Shiv doesn’t say anything, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Karolina frowns, like Shiv’s missed the point entirely. Then, she smiles.

“And I’m sure I want to be with you.”

“Uh huh.” Shiv chews the inside of her cheek, nerves lit on fire.

She knows Karolina is straightforward, and always chooses her words carefully. More importantly, she knows words have meaning for Karolina. That they aren’t just there to fill space, but are the very knife carving that space. So when she says she is sure of something—not positive, or hopeful, or inclined to believe—then she’s sure. And she hopes Karolina knows that Shiv is the opposite. That if she opens her mouth everything but the truth will come out. That her shaking hands are dirty, but they’re the most honest thing about her, and when they reach out it’s as close to a promise as Shiv can make.

“What about you? You sure?”

In the only language that’s never betrayed her, Shiv reaches a hand out between them. Karolina grabs it, interlocking their fingers and turning her wrist around until it’s her own palm resting against the stiff leather of the console.

“Just—don’t let go of my fucking hand.”

“I won’t.”

Hours later, when she can finally breathe again and the safe walls of the car are wrapped around them once more, she looks down to see their hands are still interlocked.

A woman of her word.

#shivlina #karolina novotney #siobhan roy #succession fic #shiv x karolina #prompt fill #my fics

[sochawrites]

Insecurity of secure embrace

Michael Myers x reader

TW: weight gain, mentions of blood

I didn't have a specific version in mind.

Part of Silent Love collection

As the sun finally peeked through your curtains, you groaned in annoyance. You were awake long before this moment, but your eyes preferred the comfort of the darkness around.

No matter, there was no reason to stay in bed any longer. He wasn't here.

You swung your legs over the edge of your mattress, careful not to step on the empty take-out boxes, and walked to the window in hopes to see him in the backyard, staring back, but that was merely a wish, one that did not come true. You steadied yourself against the windowsill, knuckles turning white, fighting back the stinging tears. The shape of Haddonfield was on his killing spree for the last month, which, as devastating as it was for the city, was even more to you and your psyche. 

You were sharing your living space with Michael Myers for almost three years and you got used to his outings very quickly, it was like having a very outdoor-loving cat, but ever since you two showed the feelings you were holding towards each other, his tours were taking longer and longer. You didn't mind at first, knowing he probably needed his personal space and time to regain some sense of being in a romantic relationship, and after all, he always came back, relatively unharmed, and often would fall back to his usual schedule for some time, but every time the span turned over a week, something inside you always broke.

It started small, your mind creating more and more scenarios of his demise, or of him being taken away from you, simple nightmares you could cope with on your own, but they turned into dread after some time, leaving you severely anxious every time he left the sanctuary of your home for too long. You have tried many things to get rid of these thoughts, new hobbies, exercising, housework, but nothing worked and over time you decided to give up and settled on eating comfort food whenever you started to spiral again. 

Making your way to the kitchen, you stopped in front of a mirror. You looked like shit. Not that it surprised you too much, you looked the same yesterday, and the day before yesterday as well. A mess of hair, dark shadow circles under your bloodshot eyes, puffy nose and chapped, dry lips, but the biggest eyesore to you was the exposed plush skin of your midsection, uncovered by the rolled-up t-shirt, once nicely fitting, now starting to be a bit too tight to be comfortable. 

You hated it. You hated the fact that you let yourself go like this. You hated that you didn't stop with the emotional eating when you first noticed the result of your habits. You hated that he never seemed to notice. You hated that he never comforted you, that he wasn't there at the moment to comfort you, you hated that he wasn't there. You HATED him. No, that wasn't that, you LOVED him, this wasn't Michael's fault, it was your doing, you're the one to blame...

So there you stood, spiralling further and deeper with new hateful thoughts, eyes burning a hole in the reflection of your hand slowly running over the soft, dough-like flesh of your gut, tears overflowing and silently falling down your cheeks.

So there he stood, watching you from between the door frame, head tilting in curiosity, but you were too occupied with your reflection to notice. It didn't take Michael long to figure out what was on your mind. It wasn't like he never noticed the change in your body, one could say he even noticed sooner than you, he might have found it somewhat cute somewhere deep within his mind, but if anything, he just did not care for it, and he assumed you didn't either. Looks like he was wrong for once.

In an attempt to turn your attention away, Michael knocked with his still bloody knife on the metal rim, almost chuckling as you jerked at the sound. You turned around, wide-eyed from the surprise of seeing him. "Micheal! Oh my- you scared me! How long have you been standing here?" you asked, not exactly expecting an answer from the head-tilting man, "Come, you must be hungry, I was about to make breakfast.". Putting on a smile for him and wiping your tears, you walked towards the door he was standing in.

Keep it cool, it's not his problem, it's not like he would care anyway. 

You expected him to move out of the way, but he instead closed the distance between your bodies, catching your shoulders and keeping you still, even though your body jumped at the sudden touch. You looked up at the shape, his head now tilted to the other side. Did he truly want to know? He had never done this before.

"Michael, I-... Just... let's just eat first, please, I- I will tell you, but... later" you stumbled over your words, emotion set in overload. He briefly squeezed your shoulders before you pulled away. "I missed you..." you whispered as you passed around the man. 

You opted for making scrambled eggs. They were quick and easy, not to mention one of the very few things that were in your freezer. Michael, of course, was soon hot on your trail, stepping aside only to discard his knife in the sink. The smell of dry blood started to get a bit overwhelming for your taste, "Michael, could you go and change into something less bloody? I'll wait for you at-", there was no need to continue the sentence, he was already on his way upstairs. It was rare for him to do as you told him, usually taking quite some persuading to do something he didn't want to. Maybe you could get him to shower too. He needed a shower... You both needed a shower.

Michael was back way sooner than you anticipated, standing so close behind you that he practically trapped you in between him and the stove. Yet, he tried to move even closer, leaving no space for you to step aside, his body heat intoxicating every inch of your being. You couldn't help but lean on him.

He took that as an invitation, a confirmation, that he could indeed get a little intimate with you. At least in his own way. His head laying on top of yours, unmoving and steadily breathing. The smell of latex enveloped you, it was so familiar, so comforting in a strange way. 

You raised your hand out of reflex to the back of his head, massaging the spot under the mask. That was something he was waiting for, you easing up enough to leave space for his little plan to work.

He sneaked his hands around your waist, careful not to touch and alert you of his action. Then, he slowly tightened his hold. Your whole body froze once you realized what was going on. "Michael..." was all you could muster out and he still shushed you with a grunt. 

You decided to pull the pan from the heat. This was going to take a long time.

So there the two of you stood, both perfectly still. You, hungrily watching your breakfast getting cold, and him, calculating the right moment to advance to the next phase of his scheme. 

Michael moved his head a bit, his masked nose now buried in your hair. He couldn't smell a thing except for the odour of latex, he just wished he brought you some sort of ease with it. You pushed your head a little more back to try and erase the space between. A good sign for Michael, now the last part.

Michael's arms wrapped around you, hands resting on the opposite sides of your waist. Though you were a bit squished, it felt... nice, safe, even. That is until the feeling of a soft lingering touch moving up and down on your doughty flesh, sometimes sliding under your t-shirt too. Your breath hitched at the contact, you wanted to jump out of your skin, but Michael hold you tight.

Any attempt at speaking was thereafter shushed with deep growls, you had to calm down once more. It wasn't that bad, yet, it still felt weird, as if the skin around these places didn't belong to you, but, you could get used to it.

Sighting in defeat, you loosened a bit more in his hold, letting Micheal know he could take full control as if he hadn't had it already. And that's when you heard it. Or at least you thought you did. The faintest little whisper, its voice strained and rough. 

"Pretty."

#michael myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #michael myers x y/n #slashers #slasher x reader #michael myers x s/o #micheal myers #micheal myers x reader #halloween #halloween x reader #repost from Ao3 #reader insert

[finniestoncrane]

Behave Yourself

Dano!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 2.4k request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: forceful, spanking, impact play, degradation thanks anon for requesting this 💚 i'm sorry it's longer than you were expecting and i hope it’s ok!!

The room was lit only by the warm yellow of the desk lamp. Everything else was bathed in darkness. His hands, deftly working on his latest paper crafts cast shadows that trailed up the walls, moving like spindly spider legs. Your own body cast a shadow against the furthest wall, overtaking his as you approached him.

“I’m bored, Eddie.” No response, he didn’t even look your way. It was completely possible he was so engrossed in his work that he’d managed to ignore your existence. “What are you working on?” You leaned into him, hands on his shoulders, so it was impossible for him to not realise you were there, but they were shrugged off in irritation.

“Working.”

“On what?”

“Card.”

“For who?”

“Batman.”

You tossed your head back, rolling your eyes and sighing dramatically.

“You’ve never made me a card.” Your playfully teasing tone, head thumping down to rest on his forehead, only made him more annoyed.

“I’m busy.” He smacked at your hand as you twirled your fingers around a section of his hair.

“Fine.” You left him alone, sitting in silence still, eyes focused on his little notes for his real love. Let him send his boyfriend stupid messages, at the end of the day, he still came home to his girlfriend. At least he had done so far.

“If you want to ask him on a date, just do it. You don’t have to go to such elaborate efforts.” You trailed your fingers along a very homemade looking, weirdly large, shock collar. “I mean, you texted me to ask me out. He gets a card with a personalised note?” Rifling through a box of tools, you cringed at how loud they were as they banged against each other. “Do you think we still have that kind of romance? Or do you think the spark has gone? Is there a point in trying to rekindle it, or would you rather just call it quits and see if he’ll take you?” You smiled to yourself, drumming your fingers on top of a metal cage, dragging them along the bars, a tingling sound ringing out. “If I wasn’t as sane as I was, I’d be convinced you were about to leave me for him.” As your hands found their way to the mesh on the sides, you knocked one of the plastic tubes which was connected there, sending it falling to the floor, dragging the mesh along with it. It clattered and you jumped back at the sound, back hitting something hard.

You spun around to see Eddie, looming over you.

“I’m trying to work.”

“I-I’m sorry…” You were stammering, nervous at how quickly, silently he had moved, wondering how long he had been there, watching you touching all of his traps and devices.

“The glue, it hadn’t finished drying yet.”

Your eyes flitted up from the floor, looking into his eyes for any kind of sympathy. For all you knew about him, for everything he had revealed to you lately, you were still stupid enough to rile him up.

“Eddie, I’m sorry. Look, I’ll go sit in the bedroom and leave you alone.” You made an attempt to move past him, but he brought his hand up, swift and firm but not aggressive, holding your arm and keeping you in place.

“Look what you’ve done. And you think you can just walk away?”

Every bit of your body tensed. As in love with Edward Nashton as you were, despite now knowing who he really was behind that sweet and youthful face, you knew there was a lingering threat that if you got on his wrong side, triggered the suppressed rage he kept bubbling just below the surface, that you’d be the first to test out one of his little makeshift murder devices. Which, admittedly, was exciting. Your breath shuddered as you considered your position. Cowering against the wall, your boyfriend, if he was even still capable of considering himself part of a normal, human relationship, towering over you, silent but threatening. Your flesh bumped, hairs raised on end, but it was the adrenaline, the anticipation that drove them, and not fear.

“I think you should be punished for this.”

A nervous laugh escaped your throat, choked and stifled by your panicked words, which streamed out loosely and without thought.

“Eddie it was an accident! I can help you fix it, I can. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. Please.”

“Bend over the desk.”

“Wh-what…I-”

He took your face between his hands, bending slightly and leaning in closer, noses almost touching. You could see yourself, pathetic and on edge, in the reflection of his glasses. His eyes moved between both of yours, focusing on each one intently, flicking from side to side frantically.

“Bend. Over. The. Desk.” He let you go roughly, throwing your head to the side.

Following orders, afraid to rock the boat any further, you slipped past him and pressed your abdomen against the edge of the desk, hands grasping across the surface, nails scratching the wood to gain some purchase. You waited, nervously, impatiently, for the punishment to begin. You could sense him behind you, hear his breathing closer to you as he stood within inches of your body. Flinching at his touch, his hands on your waist, running slowly to your hips as he pressed his body against yours, jerking you forward. Moving his palms further down, his fingers found their way to your waist band, yanking your underwear down to rest on your thighs, tight against the skin as your legs parted slightly and stretching the band.

It was futile, but you made an attempt to calm your breathing. You had to let him think this was a punishment, because god only knew what was coming if he had any idea that you were beginning to get aroused at the thought of what was coming next. But it seemed that the excitement was reciprocated, as his body pressed against you, slight stiffening in his pants against your rear.

His left hand clung to your hip, fingers and nails digging into your skin and marking them with the ferocity at which he gripped it. The right one grabbed at your ass with a smack, palm flattening and smoothing the cheek in circles where he had struck it. A tiny little sound fell from your lips, not quite a moan, breathy enough that you thought it could be hidden, but Eddie heard. And he leaned close to you, hand on your hip snaking up your side to the nape of your neck where he walked his fingers into your hair, twirling them around and yanking your head back, closer to him, where he whispered into your ear, shushing you softly.

“It’s not supposed to be enjoyable. For you anyway.”

A swift movement, practised and efficient, his hand raised and slapped back down. The stinging swelled, peaked and dimmed on your skin, leaving a gentle tingling sensation as he brought his hand up and back down again, fresh pinpricks flushing over you, turning your face red as you imagined the imprint his hand might be making on you, marking you as his. A physical reminder of the punishment, encouraging you to think about starting to behave correctly around him.

In quick succession, he let his hand find you four times in a row, no reprieve in between for your swiftly reddening flesh, trembling under his grip on your hair. With little energy left in you for suppressing it, a groan pushed it’s way past your tightly closed lips, followed by a tiny yelp as you realised in fear he had asked you to be quiet, and you couldn’t even obey that command.

“I’ve told you to behave yourself.”

He withdrew both his hands from your body, your skin begging for his return, body bucking back slightly to find him, but unable to make contact. He was still close though, as you could hear him shuffling. Your breath hitched when you made out the sounds of his belt buckle, clanking as it was undone, the sound of the leather slipping through the loops of his pants, but the pleasant notion that you were about to get fucked, hard and passionately by him, was quickly overcome with fearful arousal as you heard the crack of leather on leather.

Closing in on you again, Ed softly pressed the tips of his fingers to the back of your knees, the sensation causing your body to crumble in on itself, knees bending weakly before catching yourself and dutifully returning to your position over the table. His fingers trailed lightly up the back of your thighs, stopping only at the top where they met your cheeks, running back down again as he breathed in deeply, a satisfied hum following it before you heard him raise his hand up.

The crack the leather made against your thighs was so lurid, the stinging it brought on your skin harsh enough to make your eyes water. And yet, the pause in between was worse. As contact was made again, hard, unforgiving material against your soft and purpling skin, you let out a scream, truthfully more pleasure than pain. Eddie stood back, admiring the red marks on your body, the tiny blood vessels which burst under the pressure of the impact. The way your position exposed all of you to him, your trembling thighs giving way to your cunt, slick with arousal and swollen with desire for him.

With a deep inhale, he brought his hand back to your head, pulling you up straight against him. With your back against him, head up and his face in the crook of his neck, you had a moment to breathe. His hard cock, concealed tightly behind the zip of his trousers, dug into your ass cheek, sending your thoughts reeling, hoping for some semblance of relief before the night’s end, that your punishment might lead to some sweet relief at the hands of Eddie. But instead, he chastised your desperate writhing under his grip, the way you were grinding yourself against him.

“You seem to be enjoying this far too much.” And with a quick tug, you stumbled backwards into him as he pulled you into the short hall, fumbling with the door handle to the bedroom, and dragging you into the dark room where he pushed you, head first, towards the bed.

“Get up on it, on all fours.”

As you positioned yourself at the edge of the bed, you could hear him shuffling around behind you in the closet. His footsteps trudged around to the other side, where he crouched in front of you, pale skin visible as he was now shirtless. And to your surprise, and delight, and terror, he had donned his mask. Eddie had gone now, and you were at the mercy of The Riddler, who was a much tougher authority figure to please. You’d really have to be on your best behaviour now. With one gloved hand, he caressed your cheek. You looked into his eyes, past the glasses, past the mask, hunting for an idea of whether this was going to be excruciatingly brutal or not. You hoped the former, feared the latter, which was enough to have you concerned for how deeply entrenched in this bizarre relationship you were now locked into.

All thoughts were pushed out of the way as he slowly raised the other hand, glove gripping the handle of his carpet tucker, a tool you’d seen his practicing with. The violent, thrusting motions as he discussed its relevance to his plans, to the clues he was leaving his partner. For a brief second, you accepted your fate. Certain that this might be how you go out, half naked, exposed and wet, dripping with arousal, as your blood splattered against your boyfriend’s bare chest. But mercifully, he giggled a little, the sound muffled from behind the mask, and stood up, making his way back around to behind you.

Tensed, you shuffled back a bit, easing towards the edge of the bed in case Eddie decided to be kind and fuck you, burying his length into your eager and desperate hole, which throbbed with desire at the thought of him, deep inside, clumsily rutting against you as he pulled at your hair. Almost in a daze at the image of his body, sweaty and hot, rubbing against your own, you were unaware of Eddie’s actions before you flinched, noise first and then the absorption and realisation of the contact, as the cool, hard thump of flat metal against your ass registered in your brain.

Relishing in the excitement of it, the use of the tools, the oddly pleasant fear instilled in you as you considered him using this on you and potential victims, you raised yourself up to him, pleading silently for more. And in response, he brought his tool down again, harder, the force pushing you forward into the bed where your head dropped to the mattress where she opened your mouth, moaning his name and biting down hard onto the sheets. You barely had time to recover from the shock before Eddie, or The Riddler, had slapped you again, lower down on the cheek, spreading the stinging pain. From your lips, covered in saliva, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth, you managed to stutter out his name, followed by a whining ‘please’.

As you exhaled again, trying to slow yourself down, pace your heartbeat, you inhaled sharply and abruptly as one gloved finger traced down your entrance, pressing between your lips and feeling your slick. His faced, still masked, was buried between your thighs, and you could hear him in haling through the gaps, taking in your scent completely. The smooth, sticking, plastic of the mask against your skin felt oddly amazing, the way it stuck against you, matted and hot. Before you could get too used to him pressed tantalisingly close to you, one layer of material between his ability to taste you, he pulled away, instead pushing a finger deep inside of you with a grunt, before forcing the second in. The strain on your entrance deepened as he spread them apart.

Within the first split second of your satisfied moan, he pulled them out again. You could hear him walking around the bed again to face you, where he crouched once more, lifting the mask and placing his fingers into his mouth, sucking your taste off of the leather before he placed a hand on your cheek. He stroked and then smacked you, lightly, twice.

“Never, never touch my things again. And if you can behave yourself, we can see about finished later.”

#finnie writes #riddler #batman #riddler imagine #the riddler imagine #riddler smut #fanfic #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x reader #riddler x you #riddler headcanon #ridler scenario #the riddler headcanon #the batman #dano riddler #q #dano!riddler #the batman 2022 fic #edward nygma #anon #friends being friends #edward nigma #edward nashton #the riddler fanfiction #the riddler #paul dano #the batman 2022 the riddler #danonation #the riddler x reader

[panzershrike-pretz]

HIIIIIII PRETZ! which of your ocs would fit "the tradition" by halsey? really interested to see who...

HEY BLUUUUUU, SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG- O had to get in the mood for new music and finally inspiration struck. SO

First of all, this somg is fucking amazing?? Why did I take so long to actually listen to it??

Anyway this turned out longe than i expected so to the depts of the "read more" it goes

Going off of voice alone, I could very well see this as a voice claim for Juni- but the song doesn't fit her. It actually made me think of Emma!

I'm still working on her sheet, but in short, before Emma ended up with her current family she did have some troubles in her past; with her biological family, former relationships and life in general.

"Oh, the loneliest girl in town is bought for pennies of prize

We dress her up in lovely gowns, she's easy on the eyes

Her soul is black and it's a fact that a sneer will eat you alive

And the buyer always brings her back because all she does is cry"

Right off the bat I knew this song would fit her. Emma was born to a wealthy family around the 1900's, all of which were magic - except for her, so she always felt that loneliness. She dressed up pretty, to be shown off by her dad, but at the end of the day she was very very miserable. She felt like the main attraction of a circus whenever her dad would show her off-

She grew out of it tho, and so did her powers as they developed! (By almost burning her half brother alive by accident but oh well. Sometimes tou gotta blow up un flames at the dinner table) and then she became more confident in herself and her ideals.

"So take what you want, take what you can

Take what you please, don't give a damn

Ask for forgiveness, never permission

Take what you want, take what you can

Take what you please, don't give a damn

It's in the blood and this is tradition"

^ the last line makes me think of her magical-pureblood lineage, and how she was seen as lesser because she didn't have powers for so long.

Ok, funny thing is. Emma was a thief for much of her life after she ran away from home (away from that family). She lived in the slums of France for a couple years as she took upon herself to try and get a chance to get away from Europe (her plans were to travel to Brazil, so she could study the magical plants found there; she was on her way to be a Magical-herbologist)

... But as First World War happened she saw herself having to deal with it and her plans were cut short. She decided to enlist as a nurse ans so she did, until she found herself falling head over heals for this stupid haunted soldier man who needs a name but i'm a lazy shit :> (and they were hunted down by the Creatures of Shadows until they were found and rescued by Miss Seagull but that's besides the point)

"You can take it back, it's good as gone

Well, flesh amnesiac, this is your song

And I hope what's left will last all summer long

And they said that boys were boys, but they were wrong"

From my interpretation of this bit, I can connect it with her brief (?) relationship with The Guy (nameless bitch), as in- she was so so in love and he. Fucked Off one day,,, left my baby there to feel sad and alone again (yeah she had the other peculiar children with her but It Wasn't The Same).

She was stuck there on a Time Loop for all of about 80(?) years. 80 years of everyday being the same summer day, unable to move on from her love until the loop colapsed and they were forced to flee- and her mind came crumbling down on her because while she was stuck, he mooved the fuck on and grew old and fucking died (this bit here was inspired by MPHFPC, so yeah,,,)

Anyway she's still a thief :3 but now she gets paid to do it :3

Here is my analysis of the song + character- i'd say it fits only past Emma, as she's now over it (fucking finally-), but its still Emma nonetheless

Here, have this doodle of Emma Crying Over A Man and Ottilie being so done

Ottilie the Olorotitan is the official psychologist. She can't take it anymore-

#this is too much #i love this song a lot KSKEKWK #pretz ask #pretz oc #🥨🪶 #THANK YOU FOR THE ASK BLUUUUU!! #idk if any of this makes sense but Oh Well

[beanieman]

WRITE THE BG3 PARAGRAPH! (Only if you want to ofc)

Well....since you asked I guess I have to. (I have been wanting to write a BG3 paragraph since the game came out.)

BG3 is so good. I've never seen a game have so many choices that have effects on both the story itself and your relationship with your companions. You can a 100 different versions of the same game and it'll feel like a new experience every time. Plus I love how open ended your player character and how you can truly make them your own.

My Tav is an elf bard who can talk herself out of any situation. She's mostly a good person, but every now and then she has a chaotic lapse that throws the party into unimaginable situations. Like when she brought down the entire creche trying to grab a rare weapon that was not supposed to be touched. However, the chaos in her life suits her just fine because she has an entertainer background and honestly she just lives to have fun. Which is partly why she romanced Astarion even though she considered Karlach or Shadowheart for a bit there. (She is a pansexual queen.)

More Undercut

Also, outside of the player character the companions all have such good stories. Every single one of them are so fleshed out and easy to get attached to! Even though my party ended up being Astarion, Shadowheart, and Karlach, I'm still really attached to Gale, Wyll, and Lae'zel even without experiencing their stories fully. Which just means I need to do another playthrough to give them a time to shine.

Also Act 2 has the best writing in any video ever in my very biased opinion. It's fantastic how you're introduced to the shadow curse and then all of your companions stories start coming into focus while you're faced with trying to heal the land and finding the Nightsong. Also also the song that plays when you free the Nightsong?? Cinematic genius. The entire OST is a 10/10 though, including in The House Of Hope. Having one of the main villains give a full Disney performance while you fight him was such a good idea. I don't know who decided to do that but they need a raise.

So if you can't tell I clearly have plenty of thoughts about BG3. I'm going to leave a screenshot of my Tav here because I genuinely love her and kind of want to write something with her as the main character.

#asks #mod rambles #notebookblog

[beeextraordinary123]

Hi! I’ve started reading your fic WWS after encountering some fanart, and I am in love with the story, the characterizations, and your quality of writing. I’m writing a fic myself that I’ve realized I really want to sink my heels into and flesh out— what would you say is your process in terms of worldbuilding and the progression of your plot? Have you had any moments in the brainstorming process where you were divided between how the story should go, and if so how did you navigate that? Apologies if you’ve been asked this question already!

I have not been asked this yet, no! Thank you for coming and asking, it's always fun to talk shop with other fic writers. Long, rambling answer about my process writing WWS below for you, hope any of it helps - and can't wait to read your stuff!

What Was Stolen is a bit of an anomaly because I've been sitting on this idea - dreaming and scheming about it - for almost 8 years. It was just always in the back of my mind, and I was always passively thinking "oh, that would be a fun moment to include!" or "oh, I'd like to make sure these two characters have this type of interaction!".

The long and the short of it is that to get to that micro plotting, you have to start macro. For me, it was about knowing the full expanse of the story in broad strokes - beginning, middle, and end. Act 1, Act 2, Act 3.

So the idea started as simply as this: Amy is a Princess who wants to become queen, she meets Sonic, a thief, and they strike a deal (Act 1). Eventually they are found out by Scourge who is the main villain and Sonic must kidnap Amy for the thieves (Act 2). There's a fallout from this, the tournament happens and (INSERT RESOLUTION HERE, NO SPOILERS!!!) (Act 3).

It started as just an arc - Meet-up, falling out, resolution and tournament.

After that it was about placing characters in the world and coming up with what the circumstances were. Worldbuilding for me was super soft - I wasn't interested in like, the politics of the world if it didn't affect the relationship of my two main characters. For example - the politics of the thieves and the camps was something I had to know early on, because it directly affects how Sonic interacts with Amy and the world and others. But I don't know what Kingdoms the Rose Kingdom is at war with or how big it is or what their main export is - because that doesn't really matter to what Amy is up to in the castle. I started asking questions to help bridge how I GET from Act 1 to Act 2 to Act 3. For example: How is Amy going to become the queen? Answer: there's a tournament she can win that will help her case. Info about this will be delivered by Shadow. Why does Sonic need to strike a deal with Amy? Answer: He needs to rescue a friend. That places Silver and Blaze in the world. Who are the villains and obstacles in the way of them achieving their goals? Answer: For Sonic, Scourge is the camp leader and pretty obviously the villain. For Amy, her father the King represents the expectations and oppressions of her status in the world.

After I had those big, connective pieces (and 8 years of dreams about little moments), I just started writing. And I wrote until I got to the ball - I wrote 22 chapters without publishing anything, because I knew that there were a lot of plot kinks to work out, and I didn't hit the point where I simply could not carry on writing without working those kinks out until 22 chapters in.

Fun fact: originally, I wrote all 22 of these chapters so that all the events of WWS took place within 2-3 WEEKS. And when I got to the ball and realized that I wanted Sonic and Amy to be well and truly and desperately in love by that point in the story - to really drive home the betrayal of this moment - I had to stop and go back and give them more time to get there. I lengthened the timeline of the piece to 3-4 months, and then filled in scenes accordingly. Now Amy has time to spend flirting with Sonic. Now Amy has time to discover secrets about Knuckles. Now Sonic has time to make a deal with an assassin to ratchet up the anticipation. Now he has time to talk things out with his team of thieves more. Adding that time for the characters to interact and fuck up just gave more space for me to flush out the EMOTIONAL arcs - because intimacy comes with time. So that was a long re-write process of just DIGGING into what moments needed more space so that it really felt like they LOVED each other - believably - by the time the ball rolled around. After that rewrite, I started publishing chapters because I knew the timeline was set.

Otherwise, for me it's just about dreaming of moments. For a long time, I knew I wanted Amy to get sick, because that forces Sonic to return to the castle if he wants to see her. That takes them out of the training space and into a TALKING space. I knew I wanted the knife-lift for the spice and the physical intimacy, and the alcove bit for the same reason. I knew I wanted a moment of all three boys scrapping in the forest over finding out Sonic's secret because I liked the mental image, and I knew I wanted a scene of all four of them, gathered around while Sonic sang a folk song as their last bit of peace before the storm.

So, like how WWS needed to be rewritten to have more time literally in the plot of the story, so too is my biggest piece of advice for finding depth in your story: give yourself TIME to sit with your story. Write out as far as you can go, and when you hit a sticking point and think "man it would've been nice if I had given myself a symbolic object for Sonic to have and then give away as a token of his affection," go back, and put it in there. I know it's fun to rush into publishing chapters, but you find your story and your symbolism and your timeline if you give yourself the time to go back and put it in there. My story's first draft certainly didn't have a lot of the depth it has now, but because I had given myself plenty of ground to work with before even thinking about publishing, I was able to go back and dig, and plant in the soil that I had laid down.

I hope this helps - apologies if it was self-indulgent or overly long. This story is my baby, it came straight from my heart, so I could talk about it forever. Thank you for letting me talk about it, and I am so excited for what you create! <3

#ask bee #bee talks about writing #bee talks about what was stolen #lol sorry if this got too long #And I really hope it helps Strawberry! #Link me your shit when it's up!