#my fanfics are getting more cray cray as time passes

[reeddotcom]

[TCSM] Johnny x Reader

➢ Cellar Door summary: just like in the game, you've woken up in the sawyer household and need to escape with your friends. it's your job to escape, though you may or may not have gotten some help along the way. (gender neutral, self-insert)

warnings: blood, minor violence, suggested gore (but honestly nothing 2 cray oops) a/n: this is just the first part and my first time writing fanfic/posting anything on tumblr so pls be nice oop ⸻

Darkness. Silence. How you got here was unknown but you were also just waking up, feeling blanketed by an exhausted haze as senses slowly crept back in.

Tired eyes eventually flickered open to reveal an unfamiliar room encased around you; shades of ocher becoming a wooden door, muddy walls, nobody else in sight. Was this a cellar? Some type of basement? Every blink dissipated visual blur just a bit more until you were able to realize the world was upside-down and, peering towards what should have been the ceiling, the terrain underneath looked less than comfortable to land on. Wait, what was holding you up then? Your hands were free, but as more time passed and differing senses were starting to slowly make their way back to your psyche, your feet felt more restricted than what was normal. Eyes travel downwards, chin tucked to chest—stretching, arching to see that there's a frayed rope tying them together that's attached to the ceiling. What the fuck was going on?

With your heartbeat in your ears and a sudden urgency to feel freedom again, there's a short stretch of writhing and exerted effort that's needed in order to squeeze one or two digits underneath the rope; loosening it from your skin and ultimately getting it undone within a timely manner. That came with an unpleasant drop though that'd knock the air from your lungs, making it rather difficult to catch a full take of breath that didn't feel warm, much like your cheeks that were still attempting to settle with all of the blood that had rushed towards them. There's a coolness to the dirt that makes it worth relaxing in while your body begins to fire off signals of all the pain points that heightened across bruised legs, brandished arms; marks that couldn't even make it within your peripheral.

Something was clearly wrong but… you were also here for a reason.

To find Maria Flores, yeah. Ana's sister. Wait, where was Ana? A sudden scream in the distance provides the answer that you most likely weren't looking for while simultaneously providing the drive needed to finally stand up and move; eager to find a way out of wherever the fuck it is you've been locked in. Palms to ash, then wrapping around a dirtied door handle—was that blood?—you make your way out of the room and in the opposite direction of what sounded like a chainsaw in the distance that drowned out cries of agony from what could only be assumed as your friend. Julie, Connie and Sonny were also here too, right? And Leland, you couldn't forget about Leland. He was the one that came up with this whole idea. Whether or not it was for Ana or for his own hatred for the local police department and their lack of support in this case was debatable.

There's so much to process with each step taken and crying was completely understandable in a situation like this. Left to right, right to left, the walls were narrow and severely lacked any indication of direction. Everything looked the same. It was like an underground tunnel of nightmares where bones hung from the ceiling, some left in piles on the ground, if not shoved in the walls. The further you went, shimmying through tight spaces that were just narrow enough for you to squeeze through, there'd be a gruesome discovery of the bodies the bones once belonged to; their blood being strained into bins from hand-made contraptions, like tree saps. Who does something like this? Some people found things like this interesting while others found it nauseating. Either way, you were unable to make eye-contact with anything but what lied straight ahead, illuminated by questionable light sources that were intermittently placed along the walls. Darkness was a theme more often than not.

It concealed you if there was ever a moment you needed to take a breather, hide in a corner, attempt to gather scattering thoughts. Perhaps there was enough bravery to come up with a strategic plan. There was still no sign of any of your friends but that awful chainsaw still echoed in the distance, far, far away so that was a sign that things weren't all that bad. The potential for circumstances to be worse were always there but fate had different plans for you on this day. Something or someone​ was one step ahead of where you currently stood, having opened a door that was heavy in structure; fenced on the right side, allowing for transparency of the stairs that lead upwards of this hellhole. An opened padlock lay in the dust as your feet pass by it, carrying your body up the stairs in whatever way felt right. Sneaking, rushing, taking two stairs at a time—it was an open exit that appeared completely safe from the angle you were coming from. A red wall with skulls of various animals stared back at you but there weren't any shadows or other general sounds to alert you to the fact there was potentially anyone around, just the sound of a television in the distance. You'd just go the opposite way, right?

Breaching the top of the steps, it became quickly apparent that it didn't matter which way you went or how cautious you were when climbing the stairs; escaping from the sudden grasp of a dirty, gloved hand over your mouth and a knife aimed towards your throat was something that nobody could've seen coming. What's strange though is that… it feels defensive? The movements were performed so quickly, as if this person was expecting you, moving both of your bodies out of potential danger that rounded the corner just as you were dragged around another; back pressed to a heaving chest behind you.

"Useless… fucking Johnny," Mumbled a disgruntled, deeper voice that travelled down the stairs you had just emerged from, "Can't even fucking lock the doors…"

Johnny? Who was Johnny, and who was holding you right now? It's not as if you're at the liberty to ask any questions but the temptation is there, brimming over with each moment that passes as you're held as a helpless hostage. Suddenly, a coarsen voice whispers in your ear.

"Any sudden movements and I'll slit your throat."

It's said with a certainty that makes it sound like this man owns those words. He's repeated them a thousand times before and you're no different, "I'm going to let you go and you're going to quietly make your way upstairs. Left, around the corner, up the stairs…" It was a circle from where you came from so the instructions aren't that difficult to remember. Following them was a different story, "When you get up there, it's two doors on the right. Any other way and you're good as dead, you understand?" There's a part of you that doesn't quite know if this was a threat or an aid; someone providing false hope in a situation that already felt dire. Soothing rolls of an accent are tempting to abide to though, at least for a fleeting moment.

Loosening the rather vigorous hold this person had on you, it offers enough room to nod if you felt so compelled as to offer an answer, if not provide him with a muffled groan or no answer at all. Regardless, he lets you go with the departing gift of the dirt, debris and the taste of unkempt fabric on your lips, pushing your body over towards the left as this darker-haired man rounds the corner on the right. He's built, defined arms exposed by a muscle shirt that was potentially covered in blood but he left in such a quick haste that you weren't able to stick around and check. The shorter mullet was the last thing you had seen beyond muscles and worn-out jeans, so it's with that information and the sound of his accent that you can assume this was his home—his family house maybe? You were still in Texas, that was for sure.

Time was of the essence though and as you begin to follow through with the way you were pushed, there's the quick realization that on the other side of the wall separating you from the staircase, there's also a front door within the vicinity. It's a brief taste of freedom, fooling the senses into thinking you'd smell fresh air again before the sight of a padlock over several other fastening devices catches your eye. Even if you were the world's best locksmith, something like that would take far longer than what this stranger was giving you; his voice ringing in from the other side of the household.

"She went through the back! I saw her out in the field! Go 'get, I'll handle Grandpa."

Whoever he was talking to was quick to voice their displeasure in the matter, exuding a fuss that sounded rather personally charged, "You don't tell me what to do, Johnny!" She insisted, but… her footsteps, followed by the sudden slam of a door said otherwise. Why was this guy lying for you? You had a name for him now at least. Johnny. How sick was it if this guy was isolating you, leading everyone away from the apparent prize that was your death just so he could have it all to himself. Or was he actually trying to help you? Surely, there was kindness to be found in a place that smelled of nickel and soured food; the walls rotting worse than mystery meat that leaked and stained a nearby table you'd almost bump into. Especially if it were coming from the guy who had just held a knife to your neck and threatened to kill you?

But he didn't. And here we are.

Finally ascending the stairs, coming out of the shroud of darkness that was the main floor of the house and heading towards the top floor, everything appeared to have been brighter than anywhere you had seen since waking up. The contrast of white, fluorescent lighting against the flowered wallpaper on your right also serves as an indication that there was no sunlight coming through the few windows that weren't fully covered by curtains. How long had you been here? It was daytime when you came in, as remembered by the way Leland shielded his eyes from the sun with his hands, complaining about a lack of sunglasses as Ana said anything but I told you so.​ She had a habit of being the most level-headed one in the group. You? You were always a little bit… unique. Everyone had a different dynamic with you, one that solidified some friendships with certain individuals more than others but as a group, everyone got along. It's why you all came here together, and it's why you were determined to live long enough to leave and see them all again after this was all over.

Such a motivational thought was enough to blur the movements between climbing the stairs and following the instructions that were given to you to survive. Second on the right, second on the right…

Your eyes travel side to side despite what words travel through your mind, feet carrying forward. On the right was one door, then a hall—a turning point that was potentially the right way, but there were also two doors on the left. Did he mix them up? Did you remember it wrong? Was this all a trap? It sure felt like it but there's no way to definitively say so until there's something to prove otherwise. Unfortunately for you though, there wasn't much of a chance to find out before the smell of husk hits you before the warm pressure of a body against yours; the cool touch of a knife to your throat tingling all the right senses once again.

"You're kind of cute. Listening to someone with a weapon and all."

He's teasing you. Still speaking quietly, as if there's a reason to hide the fact that you two are together in this house of horrors, but there's an obvious amusement in the situation you two are in, "Now why would you trust somebody in a place like this?" The question does make you think, even if it feels like static against the back of your eyes or prickling at the front. Johnny didn't have a preference for those who cried, no matter how good it looked on them, "After what happened to your friend? Maria, was it?"

Whichever way the question made you feel, there isn't much of a chance to flounder in those thoughts as Johnny lowers the knife; taking your hand in his within the same harsh movements he uses to drag you off towards where you may or may not have considered going before, the right.​ It was still technically the second door, the first one around the corner with no differing features from the other entries you had seen across the way or even on the other side of the hall. However, if you really felt the need to compare, Johnny wasn't going to wait around; reaching past you in order to rip the door open and shove both of you through to the other side. The only gentle thing about this entire interaction was how cautiously he had closed the entry afterwards, turning his back towards you in order to press a gloved palm against the structure; latching it closed with a golden clink.

That was the only exit from you can see. A quick glance around the room would've made it pretty clear that this was a bedroom, hosting a single bed—flowery blankets, hospital-like railing, unmade—a vanity and other arbitrary surroundings that were potentially less interesting than the man behind you. Whether or not this was his room wasn't the first question in mind, although it swirls around the other varying pathways you've been given the time to mull over. Two hands pushing against your shoulder blades are what tune you out of those same thoughts, shoving your body into the bed that forces you to fold over it rather than be disturbed. Nailed to the floor was your best guess.

"Now… how do we feel about another lesson?"

Johnny's voice finally matched the higher volume of what were louder, hefty footsteps, most likely caused by steel-toed boots adorned to the man's feet. You were able to consider the footwear as the serial killer special based off of what knowledge you had but that was perhaps the most innocent thought of yours as this man slowly approached you.

With nowhere left to turn, there was the option of either facing the next development or ignoring it. And were you going to keep Johnny waiting?

Part 1.

#texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw game #tcsm #leatherface #johnny sawyer #fanfic #oneshot #writing #texas chainsaw massacre johnny #johnny sawyer fanfic

[tategaminu]

Seen some theories and fanfics touching the Rayllum possession plot so I'm gonna show my own thinking of what may happen. These are mixed with said fanfics‚ theories and my own thinking. I’m not a fanfic writer so this is just a messy self indulgent evil thing. They are obviously keeping the love confesion for a really important scene so I think the possession will be the one: Callum gets possessed‚ he goes cray-cray attacking people to the point Ezran and company have to flee‚ Rayla has to stop him from attacking them but she's also the only one who refuses to leave (or maybe they are both alone but her being the one refusing to leave him would be meaningful). Rayla avoids the attack and everything but freezes everytime shes about to hit him‚ she just can't bring herself to hurt him. A moment where her sword is too close to him‚ about to cut him‚ she gets another sepia montage flashback but this time with way more moments between them and tears up. She tosses her swords and decides to go with a different approach‚ once again not caring about what happens to her. She tries to talk to him but after not working and seeing an open spot she goes to hug him or pin him to the ground. We see Callum struggling inside but possessed Callum just PAM stabs her with one of her blades‚ slish takes a victim for the first time and It's her own owner :( She keeps hugging him (or pining him) and Callum eventually breaks free from possession‚ maybe by connecting to the moon or star or just by own will because she got hurt and he needs to help her. Rayla is happy but collapses cuz stabby stab wound. He tries to stop the bleeding with his scarf‚ without much success. She tries to tell him it’s fine even tho she’s bleeding a lot. He hugs her and cries, saying that he can’t lose her and tells her how much she loves her‚ and she says she loves him too before passing out, a kinda happy face because even tho she’s dying, she could save the guy she loves (oh my lord). Callum looks at the prison and talks with Aaravos‚ if Callum frees him‚ he will save her. And he does because he would do anything for her. He frees Aaravos, not because he’s possessed but to save the person he loves since she’s more important that whatever doom may Aaravos bring to the world.

(Option 2: Aaravos dips out and Rayla is saved by mushroom man who saved Zubeia but I'm not beting much in this one.)

Aravos lets them be and goes to do whatever fuckery he is up to, when Rayla wakes up a day later, Callum can’t even bring himself to look at her just like in s4, not out of anger this time but for shame and regret because “he” almost killer her. He’s kinda sadangry that she didn’t kill him and she got injured instead but she explains she could never hurt him and will always stay by his side, finally choosing him by staying instead leaving. They both fully reconcile because they express how important they are for each other, more than the world.

#this just so happens around ep 5 6 7 btw #:D #fanfic without being fanfic #this is the most dramatic thing i have ever writen #the dragon prince #tdp #tdp callum #the dragon prince theory #tdp rayla #rayllum

[icebluecyanide]

For the author commentary:

As weeks passed, he found himself picturing running into Yassen. It was nothing like the hallucinations, he hadn’t had one of those since Air Force One. It was just idle musings.

Maybe he’d be in an airport terminal somewhere and see Yassen sitting at another gate wearing a fake moustache. Or he’d go on holiday and encounter Yassen somewhere in France or Italy, or even Russia. Where did injured assassins go to recover? Alex didn’t know, but he had to imagine it was probably far away from here.

There was another thought too, although he didn’t like to consider it, that he’d somehow end up involved in another mission for MI6, and he’d arrive somewhere to find Yassen waiting in the shadows, working for yet another morally bankrupt employer.

For the fic commentary meme. Thanks for the ask! :D

So this is from Until Next Time, which was actually my very first (published) AR fanfic, written for spyfest, and it's set after the season 2 finale. I really enjoyed writing it, although there's a few bits that I might do differently now, but that's what you get with first fics!

Some line-by-line/paragraph-by-paragraph commentary below the cut:

As weeks passed, he found himself picturing running into Yassen. It was nothing like the hallucinations, he hadn’t had one of those since Air Force One. It was just idle musings.

I don't know if it's actually supported by canon, but I don't think Alex has hallucinations any more? At least not to the extent that the seemed to in 2x01, but then perhaps some of those really were Yassen all along. I think in a way getting to hear more about Yassen and finding out that he really was behind Ian's murder sort of allowed him to come to terms with some of the lingering feelings of unease. Like, I imagine that meeting at Point Blanc kind of haunted him and now he at least understands it a bit more. And he's not got new things to be traumatised about, yay!

At the same time, I don't think Alex would quite be able to stop thinking about what Yassen said, and the fact that he seemed to be dying but then disappeared.

Maybe he’d be in an airport terminal somewhere and see Yassen sitting at another gate wearing a fake moustache. Or he’d go on holiday and encounter Yassen somewhere in France or Italy, or even Russia. Where did injured assassins go to recover? Alex didn’t know, but he had to imagine it was probably far away from here.

The image of Yassen wearing a fake moustache just cracks me up, sorry ahsldfhds. But really this fic veered strangely between serious angst and low-key crack and this is leaning towards the crack end of the spectrum. I like the idea that Alex thinks about meeting Yassen again, though, and wonders what became of him.

There was another thought too, although he didn’t like to consider it, that he’d somehow end up involved in another mission for MI6, and he’d arrive somewhere to find Yassen waiting in the shadows, working for yet another morally bankrupt employer.

This is one of the bits where in retrospect, I'm a bit iffy about, because would Alex really think he'll end up working for the Department/MI6 again in the show? I imagine it's a bit different from the books because here he had the one mission and then he investigated on his own, but there's not really that established history of getting sent out on missions as there is in the book. So this might be a bit influenced by book!Alex, but at the same time I could see some cynical part Alex doesn't like to think about believing that he's already caught up in this world and he won't really be able to go back to normal.

And despite his fascination with Yassen and Yassen shooting Cray, the man is still an assassin and not a good person. I imagine that would also be on Alex's mind as he tries to process the fact that Yassen claimed that Alex's dad was his friend.

#kelkblr #alex rider for ts #fic commentary meme #fic: until next time

[navstuffs]

Imagine finding this while dating Robert Pattinson

Pairing: Robert Pattinson x gn!reader

Warning: none, kinda crack fanfic

Authors note: while working on my requests i saw THIS and i couldnt let it go!! i had to write! for ppl who have requested for fanfics i havent forgotten ANY of them!!!!

You definitely had too much Robert's stuff. You considered yourself his biggest fan and together with his family kept a lot about his career: magazine covers, journals, posters from his movies, everything related to your relationship with Robert. You wonder if you shouldn't sell that box online, anonymous of course, so you could get some money when a piece of a magazine calls your attention.

You never noticed before, probably because belonged to his family's records. While your eyes scan through it you hold back a laugh.

"What is this?" You whisper, looking over your shoulder as if discovering a forbidden secret from your boyfriend.

How come you were only seeing that right now? You knew why Robert wouldn't show you. It is not something he was probably proud of. This was your opportunity to pay back all his teasing when your teenage diary was revealed to the world and your teenage crush for him was all he could talk about for weeks. You look for him around the house, hiding the article behind your back, an idea popping in your head. Time for payback.

You finally find your boyfriend sitting down on the floor near the living room's sofa. His blonde hair all pulled back as he had been messing with it so many times, his blue eyes' attention on a book. You approach him, sitting at his side. You put a hand on his shoulder, making Robert look at you. He smiles but it fades away when he notices your mischievous smirk.

"Love?"

"So, Rob, we never talked about your teenage years. It interests me to know your dating history from that time and alllll your pick-up lines."

"Why do you want to know that now, love?" Robert asks, his eyes suspicious. You with sudden questions never meant anything good for him. Especially with that malicious smile.

"Oh, nothing. I was just looking through some stuff and I found THIS!" You scream the last part, bringing the article to his face, a victorious smile on your face.

His eyes scanned through the article and you realized your boyfriend was mortified. Rob never thought he would see that embarrassing thing ever again and there you were wiggling like a prize. He looked so awful in that picture. Jeez, his teenage eyebrows time. His pink cheekbones.

"What can I say? Everyone had a cringy teenage period, babe."

"Do you believe in love at first sight, or shall I walk past again?" You attempt copying his voice, putting your hands on your hips, puffing your chest. Robert rolls his eyes, looking back to his book but you squeeze his shoulder, calling his attention again.

"Come on, Rob darling, don't be so tense. I love DJing, as well. Do you want remix in me?" You wink in his direction, the flirty smile still on your lips.

Robert chuckles, hiding his mouth with his hands. He knew this was all payback from teasing you for having a crush on him since Harry Potter's years. He didn't mind. He loved silly you the most. But two could play this game.

"Love, you shouldn't play with DJs like that. Don't you know we are very good with our fingers?" Robert provokes, his voice full of malice, getting you by surprise.

"Ohhh." You sit on his lap, throwing your arms around his neck. Before you can kiss him, he places his hand in front of your mouth, whispering:

"I believe in love at first sight. The same way you fell in love with me when I was Cedric Diggory…"

"Oh, come on Rob. Not fair" You roll your eyes. Robert tries to hold back a laugh but can't when he sees your outraged face.

"You know I'm joking, darling. This is way worse." Roberts speaks, pointing at the article in your hand.

"Worse than Edward Cullen? Kidding, kidding!" You tease, getting a surprised look from him. "But you look so cute in that picture. Fifteen-year-old Robert Pattinson is very cute. But I prefer you now, of course."

"Please. You wouldn't look at me when I was a teenager. Did you see that face? Uggghhh!"

"I will still keep this" You put it inside your pants pocket. "Besides what were you saying about DJs and their fingers?"

Robert chuckles. He knew you wouldn't let go off that easy so he didn't have a choice. Getting up with you in his arms and deciding to mock you one last time, he exclaims loudly:

"DJ ROBERT IN THE HOUSE!"

"Oh come on, Rob!"

Taglist: @uwiuwi

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

#robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson x you #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson #robert pattinson fanfics #robert pattinson fics #robert pattinson imagine #rob pattinson #IM SO HAPPY I FINALLY GOT SILLY ROBERT OUT #cause we all know he silly/insane asf #my fanfics are getting more cray cray as time passes

[heatherinthesunshine]

The Party of the Poe

Shipwrecked Comedy is having a fan-creation contest to celebrate 5 years so here is my contribution: a fanfic/script/thing imagining what would happen if Poe Party was actually the Fellowship of the Ring instead of a Murder Mystery Dinner Party/Gala for Friends Potluck. Watch Poe Party first because my thing has spoilers and also because it won't make sense unless you watch Shipwrecked Comedy’s brilliant webseries: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLs2T_dNZ-XW6UjWC-qUbZSWJyCLFmsdPP.

The Party of the Poe

By Heather

A fan work, based on Edgar Allan Poe’s Murder Mystery Dinner Party by Shipwrecked Comedy and The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien.

Chapter 1 – A Shadow of a Past

It was many and many a year ago…

[Edgar Allan Poe is sitting at his desk, writing furiously. He mutters to himself and crosses out a line. After a few moments there is an urgent a knocking at the door.]

POE: What is that rapping at my chamber door?

[He goes to the door and opens it. Annabel Lee is at the door, visibly shaken.]

POE: Ah the beautiful Annabel Lee! Hello! You are looking very beautiful today!

[Lenore has come to the door as well.]

LENORE: What’s wrong Anna-banana?

ANNABEL LEE: I was cleaning my mantelpiece while waiting for Eddie to pick me up after his volunteer shift sewing teddy-bears for the children’s hospital, and I found an envelope. I opened it and this ring fell out and it landed in the fire and strange writing appeared on it and Oh Edgar I’m frightened!

[Lenore snatches the ring and looks closely at the writing.]

LENORE: Hey, this is the One Ring!

[Poe and Annabel stare at her.]

LENORE: What? I saw it in one of those dusty old books in the library. Not like there’s anything ELSE to do around here!

ANNABEL: What is the One Ring?

LENORE: It basically lets you manipulate everybody. Like, one ring to rule them all. Sounds pretty great t.b.h.

POE: [Quickly takes the ring] NOT something to be left lying around. [He gives the ring back to Annabel.]

ANNABEL: What should we do about it?

LENORE: I know! You can go talk to JRR Tolkien! He’ll know what to do. He’s having a panel and book signing in DC today!

POE: That’s awfully convenient.

ANNABEL: Oh but what about Eddie? We were going to go dancing! And he’s so smart, I’m sure he’ll have some ideas!

[Poe scowls deeply.]

LENORE: [Glances at Poe] Well the panel starts in an hour, so you two should leave right now. I’ll tell Eddie, and he can meet you there!

[Annabel and Poe set off for DC. Lenore heads next door to Annabel’s house.]

[Enter Eddie]

EDDIE: Lenore, what are you doing here? Where is Annabel?

LENORE: Today has been so cray. Annabel found the One Ring.

EDDIE: The One Ring! So it IS in this house! I suspected as much when I began courting her. Where is it? Give it to me!

LENORE: Umm… It’s not here anymore. Annabel took it with her.

EDDIE: Annabel! That naïve girl! Annabel has insufficient wit to handle a treasure such as that. And you were a fool to let her walk off with it. But no matter. Tell me where she has gone.

If you join with me we can share the Ring.

LENORE: Ok ONE everyone knows that only one person can wield the Ring at a time and TWO I would never wrong my girl Annabel like that! My lips are sealed.

EDDIE: Then I will find her myself, and you will remain here until I do. [He locks her in Annabel’s study and leaves.]

LENORE: I am LITERALLY a ghost. [She escapes though a wall.]

Chapter 2 – Nine is a Party

[Meanwhile, Poe and Annabel have arrived at a cozy bookshop in DC, as have many other authors. The Panel of Tolkien begins…]

TOLKIEN: You have been called here, authors from various time periods and literary traditions. Called, I say, though I have not called you to me. For the One Ring has departed Middle Earth and been found here, in Baltimore, and it is we who sit here who must determine the fate of both worlds.

TOLKIEN: But first, I will explain the history of the Ring. This is the tale, as I know it…

[Eleven hours later…]

TOLKIEN: … and Frodo of the Nine Fingers and Samwise the Brave were at last successful in casting the Ring into the fire of Mount Doom and destroying Sauron once and for all, or so it was thought. But now here is the Ring. What shall we do with it?

WILDE: [Aside] Next time I’m insisting on the theatrical cut.

DOSTOEVSKY: Surely we must destroy it, but how? We do not have the means to destroy it here, and we do not know how to get to Mordor from America.

LENORE: [Materializes] Hey guys! Spoiler alert, Eddie is actually a bad guy. He wants the Ring for himself, and he’s on his way here to take it.

POE: Lenore, how did you even get here?

LENORE: Oh, apparently teleportation is one of my ghost powers! Cool, huh?

WELLS: If I can just have a few moments to measure Lenore’s teleportative ability, I may be able to calibrate my prototype time machine to create a portal to Middle Earth! Lenore, will you help me?

[They exit]

TOLKIEN: If we can get to Middle Earth, we must send the Ring into the Fire. Who will take it?

POE: Ok, hear me out. What if we give the ring to one of my ravens, and have the raven fly to Mordor and drop it into Mount Doom? Quick, low-budget, and no one needs to leave home.

BRONTE: I think if a bird would work, they would have done that the first time, don’t you?

[General sounds of agreement]

TOLKIEN: Yes, a party on foot does seem to be traditional.

HEMINGWAY: Besides, your ravens just fly around aimlessly as if they have never been trained. You’re a terrible owner.

POE: Hey! I pride myself on being a very good raven owner. Alright, fine. How about we do it once with all of the walking, and then try again with a raven and then we’ll see what is what.

WILDE: Yes, but we only have the one ring. [Smirks] Get it?

POE: Ok well if we’re not using ravens, who is going to take the Ring?

EMERSON:  I suppose I could take it. I’m accustomed to spending lots of time outdoors wandering through the Massachusetts woods, the leaves fluttering softly like…

POE: [Interrupting] I will die before I see the Ring in the hands of a Transcendentalist!

[The argument grows louder and louder. Annabel looks around concerned. Suddenly she speaks…]

ANNABEL: I will take it. [Everyone goes quiet.] I will take the Ring… though I do not know the way.

TOLKIEN: Thank you Annabel. I would not wish to force this burden on you, but I believe it is right for you to take it, if you take it willingly.

POE: But surely you won’t send her off alone!

TOLKIEN: Certainly not! You at least shall go.

DOSTOEVSKY: I will also help you bear this burden. Mordor cannot be worse than Siberian prison.

ELIOT: I have brought along the Duke of Coventry and Humphrey Cadwallader for your protection. You have my sword.

HEMINGWAY: And my guns [winks].

BRONTE: And my axe! [Pause] What? I like sharp objects!

ALCOTT: Yes, we women need to stick together.

SHELLEY: Besides, you’ll need someone of intelligence on this quest. Count me in.

DICKINSON: And I’ll come too!

TOLKIEN: Alright [counting] that makes eight people in the party…

DICKINSON: Nine. It’s nine people.

TOLKIEN: I was really hoping for nine. We need one more volunteer.

DICKINSON: I said I was going. I make nine.

WILDE: Oh what the heck, I’ll go. Could be fun?

TOLKIEN: Excellent. Nine it is.

DICKINSON: I’m right… oh forget you guys, I’ll just stay home.

WELLS: [Returning] If you’ll all come this way, Lenore and I are ready to send you to Middle Earth…

Chapter 3 – An Abridged Journey

NARRATOR: This is where I must jump in to speed up the tale, for it grows in the telling. Wells had transported the company to a beautiful mountain village, and it was from there that our heroes began their journey south. The first obstacle in their path was a range of misty mountains. They decided to take a pass over the mountains but were soon caught in a terrible blizzard, and forced to retreat. Dostoevsky, who was most suitably dressed for this type of weather, was able to get everyone off the mountain, but was killed in an avalanche. There was much grieving. The party then went under the mountains, through some dim and foreboding mines. Here they lost Mary Shelley, who sacrificed herself against a terrible monster (which they were pretty sure was not named Karen). There was more grieving. Next, the party came to a beautiful forest…

ALCOTT: I could stay in this forest forever!

NARRATOR: She did.

NARRATOR: And at last it was time to make a choice…

HEMINGWAY: We should head west, to Minas Tirith, and aid in the war effort. This Ring would be a mighty gift to turn the tide in their favor.

POE: No, we should head east, to the Mountain of Shadow, as was agreed at the council.

HEMINGWAY: I trust the strength of men in combat over this subterfuge.

POE: That’s because you lack all subtlety.

HEMINGWAY: Well why don’t we let the lady decide?

POE: Yes, the lady.

NARRATOR: The lady was, at this moment, in the process of being carried off by a group of rather large orcs. The party sprang to action. At last Annabel was rescued, but Hemingway lay dead, shot by one too many orc arrows. There was yet more grieving to be done.

POE: You valued brevity, so I will simply say farewell, my dear, uh…

WILDE: Friend?

POE: Mmmm… acquaintance.

ELIOT: What should we do now? Hemingway wasn’t wrong. Gondor does need help in its fight.

ANNABEL: I could not ask any more of you to die for me. I will go to Mordor alone.

POE: Great idea Annabel. George – you, Oscar, and Charlotte should go to Minas Tirith. Annabel and I will go to Mordor.

ANNABEL: I said “alone”.

POE: Right. Yes. Alone. With me.

Chapter 4 – Of Battles, Briefly

NARRATOR: George Eliot, Oscar Wilde, and Charlotte Bronte continued on to Minas Tirith. They arrived to find it under siege.

BRONTE: Well I suppose it’s time to get our hands dirty. [She strides into battle, swinging her axe] One… Two… Three…

WILDE: Oh I don’t know about all of this…

[The Witch King of Angmar, leader of the Nazgul, lands before Wilde and Eliot. He dismounts and hits Wilde with his giant mace. Wilde falls.]

ELIOT: NO! Oscar! [She kneels by him] Like a brother you were to me, for a little while. [Standing and turning to face the Witch King] Ringwraith! Darken this world no more!

WITCH KING: You fool! No man can kill me!

ELIOT: I [removes hat] George Eliot [removes moustache] am a woman. [She runs him through].

WITCH KING: [Dying] Argh no dammit. This is the SECOND time this has happened to me. Oh it’s so embarrassing.

Chapter 5 – A Song of Fire and Also More Fire

NARRATOR: I could tell you all about the trials faced by Annabel and Poe on their journey to The Land of Shadow. How Eddie the Banker found them in the wilderness and became their guide, causing no little strife between our two heroes. How Eddie tried to betray them but was eaten by a giant spider. I could tell you of the long trek through the desert with little water, and less food. How at the end, Annabel became so weak that Poe had to carry her. But it is a long and depressing tale and I do not wish to dwell on it. Suffice it to say that at last our heroes made it to their destination, a chamber carved into the side of Mount Doom.

POE: Well, here we are. Cast the Ring into the fire, Annabel, and let us be done with this ridiculous quest.

ANNABEL: Now that it comes to it, it is difficult to part with. It whispers in my mind. I could claim it as my own, and become a queen, great and terrible. All would love me and despair.

POE: We already do. Just get rid of it and I’ll get you a nicer ring.

ANNABEL: Wait, was that a proposal?

POE: No. Uh yes. Uh maybe?

[Annabel casts the Ring into the fires of Mount Doom. She sighs with relief.]

ANNABEL: It’s over. It’s done.

[Annabel and Poe slowly head out of the chamber and make their way down the mountain. Suddenly, with a great roar, the mountain erupts. Annabel and Poe cling together on an outcrop as rivers of lava flow all around them.]

ANNABEL: I am glad that you are with me, Edgar, here at the end of all things.

[She looks up at the sky. A flock of birds is flying towards them.]

ANNABEL: Oh Edgar! The ravens! The ravens are coming!

[The ravens pass overhead and continue on. Poe coughs uncomfortably. Just as all seems to be lost, Annabel and Poe dematerialize, then rematerialize.]

Chapter 6 – Party’s End:

[Poe and Annabel look around. They are back in the bookshop in Washington D.C. All of the other members of the Party are there as well, and they are applauding.]

POE: What happened? Are we dead?

WELLS: No! It is a convenient side effect of this form of travel! When you died in Middle Earth you awoke back here!

POE: [Frowns] Does this mean Eddie is also back?

LENORE: No, he must have traveled to Middle Earth using a different method. He was definitely really eaten by a giant spider. Too bad, so sad!

[Tolkien coughs to get everyone’s attention.]

TOLKIEN: The Ringbearer has fulfilled her quest! Praise her with great praise! Thanks to you and to all of the Party, a terrible threat has been vanquished.

ANNABEL: Is the darkness gone forever?

TOLKIEN: No my dear. The darkness is never gone forever. That is why each of us must return to our own places and times, and fight the darkness however it may come to us there.

NARRATOR: There were many tearful goodbyes. Dostoevsky insisted that the entire group take a shot, in celebration of the love than had grown amongst them. Hemingway took a few friendly jabs at Poe. Eventually, the group dispersed, and Poe, Annabel, and Lenore made their way home.

ANNABEL: Isn’t it strange to think that we went on that great adventure to save the world, and no one in Baltimore knows anything about it?

POE: Oh, I don’t like attention anyway.

Epilogue

NARRATOR: As you know, the time comes when a Ringbearer must make one final journey. And it is said when Annabel sailed over the sea that Edgar Allan Poe went with her.  And perhaps it was due to Poe’s great love for Annabel that the Lords of the West permitted it.

They took the last ship to the West, Poe and his Annabel Lee

There they loved with a love that was more than love, in a kingdom by the sea.

The End

#shipwreckedcomedy #shipwrecked comedy #shipwreckedfive #poeparty #poe party

[navstuffs]

Clueless

Pairing: Barista!Robert Pattinson x Female!Reader

Summary: A clueless barista and his even more clueless crush.

Warning: PURE FLUFF, awkward in love Robert

Authors note: you usual AU coffee shop fanfic. i apologize for taking so long doing those requests, things are kinda cray cray for me rn but i will soon get the handle of things again.

Robert sees her every morning, punctually at 7:48 am. He knew she worked at a company around his coffee shop and she was usually always on her phone, earphones on-ear. She always asked for the same drink every morning, sometimes a warm sandwich. And, she always tipped very well.

She always treated him nicely but Robert never had a chance to have more than a casual fast conversation with her. Freddie, his coworker, kept teasing him every time she walked in.

7:48 am on a Thursday. (Y/N) walks in with her earphones on, texting. She gives a fast nod with a shy smile in Robert's direction, murmuring her order like she still needed (Robert knew her order at the top of his head). She seems extremely busy like any other morning, more listening than talking and not directly looking at his eyes. Freddie liked to poke fun at that, saying she probably had a crush on him as well and Robert never realized.

"Are you going to make it extra special for your girlfriend?" Freddie whispers to tease him while Robert starts preparing her order.

"Shhh! She could hear that!"

Robert looks over his shoulder to see (Y/N) still very concentrated on her phone. She doesn't seem she could hear but, he couldn't risk it. (Y/N) thinking he was a creep is the last thing he wants.

"This girl has been coming here for almost two months and two months I see you drooling over there. It is hard as your friend, you know?"

"Freddie, shut it."

Freddie lifts his arms as a sign of giving up as Robert finishes her order. He brings the coffee to the counter and (Y/N) already has the money prepared on her hands. Robert knows what comes next: she gives him the money, lets him keep the change, and smiles, leaving. To repeat itself on the next day and the other.

It was after a week he was intrigued with her. Robert had other regulars like her, but no one fascinated him as much she did. She had a different factor, an aura around her he couldn't quite grasp. As time passed, this feeling got stronger but he never did anything about it. He just didn't want to scare her off.

"You did something with your hair?"

Robert was awakened by her loud and clear voice. She never asked him something so directly or personal before, from the usual "How was the weekend?" or "How is life going?"

"Did I do something with my ha-no? Mhm, no. Nothing. Not that I know of."

(Y/N) nods, biting her lips and it gets very awkward all of sudden. Robert doesn't really know what to say and (Y/N) is standing there, looking everywhere but at him, not even taking her usual sip of coffee, the money forgotten on top of the counter. Robert blurts the first thing that comes into his mind:

"So, like, global warming, right? Are all those glaciers just melting into the ocean? Are we all going to die in a few years or what?"

Robert wants to hit himself immediately as (Y/N) looks at him as she just saw an alien. Good work, Robert. She won't see you as a creep but now as a freak.

"Yeah. I better be going or I am going to be late. Bye."

Robert wants to hide behind the counter as (Y/N) leaves. Global warming, really? The best thing he could come up with is that? Not, oh yeah, you also look really pretty today, (Y/N). As you always do. No, that would be being a creep. He just needed to do better, that is all. Control himself and do better.

-x-

Friday 7:45 am. Robert watches the front door nervously. He is worried if he will ever see (Y/N) again, hoping he didn't scare her off from yesterday, having to hear Freddie tease him for the rest of the day. She could always find a better coffee place to sit and a barista who didn't talk about bad topics so early in the morning because that's exactly what people want to hear. More charming than he was as well.

The door opens and Robert's day lights up seeing (Y/N). She looks radiant today and to his surprise, she doesn't have her phone in her hands or earphones on her ears. She is even wearing makeup today, something she never did.

"Morning, Rob!"

"Morning."

That was weird. The whole night he thought he would never see (Y/N) again and there she was, looking prettier than ever. Robert never understood how she could look this pretty so early while he looked like an old piece of bread that was stepped over.

"Can you maybe make something different for me today?" (Y/N) asks as if trying to see if she really could do that.

"Oh? Like what?"

"I don't know...you can choose! I trust you whatever you do it anyway. It always tastes so good."

Robert could swear he had never seen her so nervous before. Or so radiant. Or so excited. (Y/N) never looked at him too times anyway. She was always in her own space, doing her things. Robert always presumed she was a very busy and professional woman so he didn't bother. But now, watching her look nervous makes him have hope. Maybe he did have a chance after all?

"Something important happening today?" Robert wonders, eager to know what is making her so happy as he prepared her order.

"Yeah! Kinda going for an important presentation today. If lands well and it will, I can get a big promotion!"

"Oh, wow! That's great! I hope it goes well!"

"Yeah. I can half share this victory with you and Freddie. You guys have been keeping me alive since I transferred to this city. I wouldn't be anywhere without you."

"That isn't true. We are just fueling your abilities." Robert blushes hearing (Y/N)'s worlds, his belly with the usual inside butterflies he only felt when she was around. He was almost done with her order, drawing a heart on top of it.

"No! I don't admit you speaking like that about my favorite barista, Robert. You guys have been very nice to me. I'm still pretty new here and you always made me feel welcome, although I am always on my phone. I will always be grateful."

Was Robert's imagination or did she a little embarrassed like she spoke too much? (Y/N) fixes herself as Robert brings her order to the kitchen counter. She looks at his heart drawn and grins, grabbing her wallet. When she was about to pay, Robert shakes his head.

"No. Today is your great day. Keep it for the celebration. It is on the house today. You can buy us a beer or something."

"Or that definitely will happen. I will pass here, after work, and tell you the news and take you to a beer."

"Deal."

-x-

Friday, 5:10 pm. Freddie had left about thirty minutes ago as Robert prolonged his cleaning. Robert might have forgotten to tell Freddie about (Y/N)'s invitation to a beer after she would get her promotion (because Robert knew she would). Robert kept cleaning, looking at the door and clock anxiously. Robert wouldn't mind waiting for (Y/N) for more two hours if was needed.

A single knock on the door made him drop his cleaning cloth and run towards the door. It started raining outside when Freddie left and got intensively worse, hitting the window. When he opens the door, (Y/N) is standing there. A completely different (Y/N) from earlier.

This one looks defeated. Her make-up is destroyed by the rain. Her clothes are crumpled and she looks like she has been crying. Robert stares at her and lets her pass without saying a word. (Y/N) sits down on a chair, glancing at nothing for a few moments.

"What happened?" Robert worried questioning makes her head turn to him. Her eyes seem red with all the crying.

"I bombed the whole shit, Rob. I messed it up. I fucked it up. I ruined it."

Robert sits down by her chair, wanting to rub (Y/N)'s back to at least give her some comfort. He holds himself back, rubbing his hands together.

"Are you sure? It could have been only your perspective, (Y/N)."

"They were laughing at me at the end! Like, my boss even had to step in because it was getting humiliating to me and he hates me! Can you understand how bad this has been for a man who hates my guts to save me?"

Robert doesn't answer, simply letting (Y/N) vent. She looks like she needed this. Robert just wishes he could do something about it. (Y/N) is grabbing some napkins from his table and Robert tries, slowly:

"I am sorry (Y/N). Do you need anything? A coffee? A candy?"

A hug, maybe?

"No. It is fine. I am sorry you had to wait for me for two hours for me to come here with bad news."

"I am not mad. I like to stay here. It gives me peace."

(Y/N) wipes her tears with the napkin and they both continue to watch the rain hitting on the door and window. It is not an uncomfortable silence this time, more like a recomforting one. She was lucky she wasn't fired that day or sent back to her city. She would be sad not to see Robert every day.

"I am sorry I can't take you to a beer today."

"It is okay. We can leave it for another day."

Uh.

Oh.

Robert feels his face turning red, looking everywhere except at (Y/N)'s side. She isn't talking or reacting to which doesn't mean good news, usually. Now he was both a freak and a creep. Good scoring, Robert.

"I wouldn't mind."

Robert glances in her direction to see her watching him with curious eyes. She seems to be trying when she questions:

"Just me and you right? No Freddie, right?"

"No Freddie."

"I would like that. A lot."

Robert nods, his face still red as a tomato, and (Y/N) smiles ear to ear.

TAGLIST: @uwiuwi

MASTERLIST | REQUESTS ARE OPEN | TAGLIST

#robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson x female reader #robert pattinson fanfics #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson x you #robert pattinson imagines #robert pattinson au #FREDDIE IS FREDDIE STROMA #not my best fanfic i admit #i hope you all enjoy it #requests