#Dweller's writing

[lonleydweller]

I hope you feel better!

You had BTAS Riddler + prompt 14 in your drafts before your break, could you please write that?

🥀Yandere BTAS Riddler + Prompt 14🥀

-----------------------------------------------------

Warnings: yandere trope, stalking, breaking and entering, possibly ooc riddler as it's been a hot minute since I've seen the animated series, kinda ambiguous ending.

Yanderes are OK to enjoy in fiction. They should stay fiction. They are not examples of healthy relationships. These behaviors are NOT okay in real life. They are horrid. This is for entertainment purposes

------------------------------------------------------

Your clock's ticking fades into the background, drowned out by you turning up the volume on your radio, blaring a favorite song of yours. Background noise as you worked diligently on making your dinner, checking temperatures, checking on whatever was cooking, grabbing some utensils and ingredients you forgot to snag initially.

For once you didn't feel on edge. You didn't need look over your shoulder. You didn't need to sleep with a weapon near your bed. You didn't need the police on speed dial. If felt safe. He had been locked up for almost three months at this point. The longest break you've had from the deranged man.

Course the usual antics in gotham went on, appearing on the news in the morning to report on what criminal had striked this time. One's that you weren't roped up in. You were just an outsider observing for a change. No obsessed man spouting confusing riddles at you and proclaiming love.

Now he was locked away in Arkham far away from you. A court issued restraining order was slapped on top of that too. Pushing his distance even farther.

You could slow down, time to yourself, no need to worry for you safety, for whether you'd wake up in your bed or not. Now here you were, peacefully making yourself dinner. You couldn't even recall the last time you'd done so.

The music is loud enough to where it almost drowns everything out. Almost.

Everything except for the distinct sound of glass breaking.

You whip around on your heels, quickly grabbing the nearest knife to arm yourself, back against the counter as your eyes land of dreadfully familiar figure. Towering over the remaining shards of your windows, brushing his blaring green suit off.

"Apologies for the window. You changed the locks on everything so I couldn't get in the usual way."

You point the knife in his direction, making a clear gesture for him to stay away. He only gives unamused glance at it. This wasn't the first time you two had stood juxtaposed like this.

"Quite the harsh greeting dear. Not even a hello after all these months?"

He takes a single step forward. A shakey shout leaves your mouth with little hesitation.

"No! Get out! You know you aren't supposed to be here! You know damn well you aren't supposed to be near me! You know what those papers say!"

He leans on his cane. Head tilted to the side, a chortle leaving him

"Darling, a silly piece of paper can't keep me from you!"

Of course it wouldn't. A piece of paper wouldn't stop a parasite. A leech. You're not face to face with the epitome of a law abiding citizen are you? He's broken the law long before he decided to swoon over you. The crimes he's done for you before surpassed violating a restraining order. It was just a meaningless sheet to him.

Neither of you moved. Both just stood still. Silence hung in the air. Just as the knife in your hand did. You eye the phone on the wall. Would the city police help? They barely responded in time before. Always end up having to wait for the bat to save you. That wouldn't do anymore would it?

He's killed. He's kidnapped. He's tormented. The aslyum didn't deter him, nor jail, nor any semblance of law or punishment. He'd just keep doing it.

The kicthen light bounces off the blade.

Offering a permanent solution.

The only riddle now was wether or not you would succeed.

------------------------------------------------------

@adalwolfgang, @helpfandom

------------------------------------------------------

[sombrashe]

hii!

can you pretty please write something for Norm MacLean x reader?

ty, and i love your blog!

content fluff, just so much fluff and a little angst if you squint, childhood friends to lovers, reader is a breeder and its their wedding day, gn!reader, chubby!reader

note(s) hiiiiii :3 im so happy you like my blog!! i hope you enjoy this little but of fluff | i didnt know how to end it so it might seem a little abrupt

"Norm?"

Your voice bounces off the concrete walls and back into your ears. Your heels click with every step, your shoes are nice and shiny for the occasion. He wasn't home, at Chet's, or in the fusion room. A long shared hiding spot. You frown as you turn down yet another hallway. A sea of copy-pasted doors muddle together in your eyes as you huff. Maintaining your peppy smile you grip the bouquet tighter. When you noticed Lucy, but no Norm to accompany her you had to pause everything. A much disagreed decision which led to Overseer MacLain chastising you for your decision. It wasn't a good idea to make Vault 31 wait but you couldn't care less.

"Norman."

Your voice grows in pitch as you backtrack out of the hallway and into an identical one. One furthest from your wedding and who do you find sitting with his back to you? Cleaning the connection line of the vault floor.

"Oh! Norm, there you are."

He doesn't turn back and simply gives you a quick hand raise and a simple, "Busy. Be done soon."

You give a soft giggle and crouch down behind him.

"Norman MacLean. It's rude to ignore the person being married. Especially on their wedding day."

He finally turns at that. Almost as if he just realized who was talking to him. Your smile is unrelenting a stark contrast to the stony expression he gives you in return.

"Well, are you coming?"

You stand and extend your hand only to frown when he simply glances at your palm.

"What's wrong?"

You start to worry as he takes his time replying. You never felt this before, the feeling of your stomach becoming a giant knot. Like all your intestines became worms and got themselves tangled in each other. You did not like this feeling.

"You're making my stomach hurt, Norm. What's going on? You said you would be there when I met my partner."

"I got assigned cleaning duty."

You scoff and roll your eyes, a smile gracing your lips again as if you solved one of the riddles in the vault newspaper.

"It's my wedding day. I'm sure Hank would understand. You're my best friend after all, he would want you to be there with me."

Hands on your hips you can't help but notice as your cheeks start to sting with all this frowning and smiling.

"Best friend. Yeah, okay."

He repeated you again.

"Norman, what's going on? Are you sick?"

Bending over at the waist you place the cool back of your hand to his warm forehead and chew on your bottom lip. He feels fine. So why is he acting like this?

"I'm fine. It's nothing."

He swats your hand away. Using his hands he pushes himself to stand.

"Let's just go."

"No. Not until you tell me what's going on. Why you're acting like this. You've never repeated me twice. You only do that when you're upset. Three times and I would have to call security."

You try to give him a smile and laugh, but he just pushes past you. Hurrying you catch up to him as he goes to turn the corner out of the hallway. Reaching out you're able to grab ahold of his suit before he makes it.

"I don't want you to get married."

His words are rushed and he refuses to look at you. You give a small laugh hoping he was joking. You didn't go through all this... all this moving on just for him to confuse you.

"Norm, you said you were excited when I told you I was chosen."

"I lied."

I lied echoes throughout the corridor. Your grip tightens on his suit as you soak in his words.

"You told me-."

"I lied. About everything. It wasn't just practicing for me. None of it was practice. You need this, I know. Now you know so you can move on. What are you hoping they look like?"

He gives you a false smile and it looks out of place especially with you mimicking his stony expression from before. Dropping your hand you furrow your eyebrows and slam the palm of your hand into his chest.

"You... jerk! All this time I thought you wanted to be just friends. Thought you regretted everything. Fudge, Norm. Why didn't you tell me? I would have never gone to the council and convinced them to let me get married."

He gives you a genuine smile and you want to hit him again. Maybe yell at him some more until he's cupping your cheeks. His eyes are intense as they stare into yours.

"I know how important fulfilling your job is, I would never ruin that for you. I thought it would be easier if I didn't show up."

"That's stupid. You're more important to me than any job. I would be just as fulfilled and happy scrubbing floors."

His eyes search yours. His fingertips press into the soft flesh of your cheeks. You can tell he wants to lean in closer. Do as you always did ever since you were children. You don't give him the chance to back away. Not again. Leaning forward you rest your forehead against his, nose smushes against each other making it difficult to breathe. As if you could breathe clearly given the circumstances.

He takes the initiative this time and closes the minuscule gap between your lips. Years as the Overseers son gave him access to anything he ever wanted and you can tell he uses it to take care of himself.

"Strawberry?"

"They figured out how to make this stick that makes your lips soft and they gave me one to try."

You giggle and kiss his soft sweet lips again and again. Breaking away to smack your lips covered in the foreign flavor. After a good thirty minutes, you hear your name being called from a dot down the hallway.

"Lucy." You whisper as your heart starts to rise and you fear you might throw it up.

Taking your hand he squeezes it tightly before letting it fall beside the fabric of your wedding gear.

"I don't want to get married anymore, Norm. What do I do?"

"We explain to Lucy and see what she has to say. She's the older sister for a reason."

[snail-scholar]

TW: YAPPING

ashley being a girl is so important to me it's not even funny.

i think she has become a sort of comfort character for me. her being so wrong, so flawed, so evil gives me a sense of catharsis many other characters failed to replicate.

through her dialogue, her personality, her character... she feels like the horrors of being a woman incarnate. wether people choose to acknowledge it or not, because society expects different things from boys and girls, they're treated differently when they differ from the standards imposed on them. that's why i think ashley's impact would be very different if she were a man, hell, it would probably be a very different story, with a whole new character.

she is the one who cleans the house and cooks, despite andrew being the parentified sibling. she is the one who is insecure about her appearance and sees sex as a transaction. she is the one who has bursting, explosive emotions that tend to be dismissed. she is the one who can't help feeling competitive over other women. she is a nightmare, and instills nightmares on others, all while being our unladylike girl with awesome fat tits.

i was raised as a girl, and grew up autistic. it wasn't great. and although my past differs from ashley's, when i see her i think to myself, "she gets it."

i see a lot of trans girlies finding comfort in ashley too. bpd girlies. girls who were othered. maybe we want the sense of freedom to feel anger about past experiences. maybe she is just a healthy(?) way to deal with the inherent darkness(tm). i'm not entirely sure. but i think there are many reasons women can connect with ashley.

i mean, outside of tumblr she was hated and very few even bothered to look at things from her perspective. and maybe i am ignorant, but as far as i know, the majority of the fanbase outside tumblr is (very) normie men.

they don't even understand cannibalism!

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Gantober #4 - Seafoam

(Wind Waker, Ganondorf & Beedle, non-graphic violence)

Tearing himself off a broken seal, Ganondorf discovers his homeland disfigured by an endless sea —and a stranger calling it home willing to help.

(Full disclosure: I'm flying off the seat of me poorly remembering my decade-old Wind Waker walkthrough and details gleaned back on vague research I did over a year ago, so I do apologize for any dubiously canon choices made here)

---

Ganondorf had waged wars larger than the sky. He had crushed skulls under his boot as an afterthought. He had basked in roaring infernos, found comfort in the musk of old blood. Even his own torment, either while sealed beyond reality or when his body had twisted to unnatural shapes from his restless abuse of Power, he had grown to rely upon as something expected —and therefore, under his control.

But there he stood, stranded on a mere constellation of sand in the middle of the night, staring on and on at the black sea surrounding him from all sides.

And nothing seemed to stomp his rising horror.

Salt. He didn’t mind salt, usually. Here, it was dizzying. A wound in the earth. A wound where Hyrule —his Hyrule— used to be. Water had swallowed all of it. In the darkest depths of the sea, there lied his castle, his hard-earned victories, the villages he sacked and those erected in their place by the monsters serving him. He may have broken the seal forced upon him, but his entire life slumbered down the abyss. For how long did he drift, outside of time and space? There was nothing left but salt. Angry froth surrounding him from all sides. The Goddesses did not care for what they once called holy. What was there even to yearn for anymore, beyond wreckage and mud?

The infernos had all drowned. Even he was now drenched and cold; his ageless bones incapable of resisting neither the waves or the rain.

He did not notice the boat that beached nearby until it was too late, and it took its sailor two attempts to finally catch his attention.

“All good sir?”

Ganondorf tore his eyes from the shore. The man who screamed at him from the deck was a stickbug of a hylian, with a horrendous bowl cut and a drooping pink nose. His sunkissed, freckled skin shivered under the tremors of a coming storm, but still: he smiled, with concern. “Not to assume nothin’, but it’s a sad old place to be shipwrecked if you ask me!”

Hands on hips, face open, eager to help. Obviously clueless as to who he was.

Nobody had stared at Ganondorf that way in hundreds of years.

He considered killing the straggler and taking his embarkation for himself. Faster, easier. But of all the many skills the gerudo king had perfected during his unnaturally long life, sailing had never even crossed his mind as something worth his attention. And the thought of trying to keep this poorly wielded rotting wood afloat in a storm, hands coarse with ropes he couldn’t make sense of above miles upon miles of this terrible salt water that wanted him back in the dark... A sharp pang of hatred seared down his throat. The Goddesses must be finding his predicament oh so hilarious.

The stranger, named Beedle, made what room he could for him on his bark; but said bark was tiny, and Ganondorf could only fit against the wall of the inner cabin, stuck between crates of food and heaps of arrows. A ceiling lamp swung above his head followed by a swarm of eager moths, threatening to set his forehead on fire. The hylian’s sunny disposition dimmed somewhat after Ganondorf’s pointed silence and lack of outward thanks for all this effort, but he still refused to let it die entirely and carried the conversation for them both.

“Hoping my humble abode can be a welcome shelter for the time being, my good sir.” Good sir. Ganondorf bit his tongue not to emote. “Please don’t be shy around my wares as well! If something catches your eye, I’m sure we can agree to somethin’ or another!” The hylian’s eye nicked at his jewelry, barely attempting to be subtle. “It’s rare to see folks as fancy as you in these parts. It’s the pirates, you see. I suppose it’s them who gave you trouble?”

Ganondorf evaded the too-intense gaze of the merchant. Of course, in this sparse flooded world, information would be as precious as rupees. He elected to be as greedy as he could in this particular department.

“I simply… got lost,” he muttered.

His voice was rough, ancient, looming. He didn’t sound like the way he remembered. The small hylian tensed and nodded, with a frown deep enough to suggest he was growing less worried about his guest and more about himself. Thunder crashed outside. A large wave rolled under the planks at their feet; the boat croaked, almost organically. Ganondorf shivered.

“Welp. Happens to the best of us I guess!” The owner scratched his bare stomach, his best efforts at joy dipping into nervousness. “Where are you going then? I can drop you off to any place that’s on my usual route!”

Ganondorf clenched his jaw. He had no good answer to this question. He didn’t know anything about this strange new world. Didn’t recognize anything. Where were they, right now? Above which landmark he could still perfectly recall in his mind, lively and luscious, sprawling under the indulgent sun of Hyrule?

“I… I don’t…”

He caught himself, this disgusting vulnerability in that shredded voice, before it could spill out fully. Anger smothered him instead; then something more painful, akin to the jagged cuts of weapons somehow lodged even deeper than flesh. He thought of gutting the pleasant man, right here and now. Take him apart limb from limb among all these goods and produce Ganondorf had never seen before. But the storm raged outside —and to be stuck there, in this claustrophobic cabin, waiting to be toppled over and drowned once again…

“Y-You know what?” Beedle proposed, hands joined, helpful in a way that neared pity. “I can take you to Windfall Island! It’s the biggest port around, and I’m sure you’ll find someone there who can help you out. You seem a little…” He swallowed. “A little... out of it, sir.”

His skin crawled. That idiot would strand him on an island full of hylians, chipper and knowledgeable and unbearably alive.

“No,” Ganondorf grunted. “Take me… Take me somewhere quiet, and near. Someplace with solid land.”

The hylian cocked his head.

“I’m not quite sure about that plan, sir. There’s a Fortress close-by, sir, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. The waters are full of pirates. It’s not safe here! They’d capture you in a heartbeat, and oh!” The poor little man deflated, rubbing his bare arms, as if to ward off his own imagination. “They’d have ways to make you spill where the rest of your fancy gold is hidden, sir!”

Ganondorf couldn’t help his snickering. His right hand burned quietly under the full length of his sleeves. “A fortress, you say?”

“Horrible place! Dreadful place! They’ve stolen from me before, the vultures!”

“Take me there.”

Beedle’s eyes and mouth drew the shape of three perfect circles.

“Sir!” He squealed, red with offense. “No amount of rupee in the world could convince me to go there! I’ll never risk my wares, my very life…”

“Where I come from, merchants know to take risks when it matters,” Ganondorf said. And that much was true. Gerudo merchants had saved his kingdom countless times over before he was old enough to wield a sword himself. Not all of them returned home alive.

“And why on earth would it matter to me?!” Beedle crossed his arms, outraged. “They’ll shot my poor boat on sight! So whatever you could offer me in exchange…”

“You’re assuming I will let you refuse.”

Silence, if not for the roar of the sea.

The hylian’s eyes were large and misty, his knees threatening to give. “Sir…” He wailed, crumbling on himself, even tinier than before. “I rescued you.”

“And I am not ungrateful,” Ganondorf smiled. “Yet.”

¤

The merchant sniffled and muttered under his breath the entire way, but it didn’t take much more than a few hours for Ganondorf to see the silhouette of a large structure overtaking the stormy horizon. Beedle tried not to cry as he slalomed through the coves and razor-sharp stones, knowing himself watched, both by his guest and the pirates outside surely well aware of their presence. Ganondorf considered telling him they would be safe from cannon fire no matter what, but decided to keep his magical prowess undisclosed for as long as he could. He simply didn’t know enough about the rules of this new world to fashion a reputation for himself yet. Dreadful outcasts with a penchant for knives and thievery, however? A consequence-less trying ground.

An anchor, in so many ways.

They weren’t prevented from boarding the pier, but were awaited right outside. The vicious wind swashed buckets of sea water over a collection of armed silhouettes, staring at the humble bark with open distrust and slight bafflement. Ganondorf eyed over each of them. About twenty, that he could see. All of them with pointy ears, safe for the two gorons in the back. Brown hair, blonde hair, white hair.

All of them men.

Ganondorf refused to give room to the childish hope within withering into something cold and empty, and advanced towards the line. Beedle made a whimpering sound behind him.

“That’s close enough I’d say.”

A man cut through the pirates and stepped forth. The bulky kind, bald-headed and scarred, with one golden tooth sharpened far past what most would think reasonable. He towered over his crew, but barely reached Ganondorf’s shoulder. He nodded towards the cowering merchant behind his back.

“Must have given that lad his weight in rupees to convince him to sail here. We have history, don’t we Beedle?”

The crew laughed, and the poor hylian was but half a breath from sobbing openly.

“I hear you’re the terror of the sea,” Ganondorf noted.

The man puffed his chest. “Aye we are. So what made you think it was a good idea to come check for yourself? Want to donate to the cause?” Every pirate openly eyed at the large jewels adorning his fine robes. Gerudo craftsmanship had always stirred outsiders’ imagination, even back when cultural context hadn’t been completely lost to the waves.

Ganondorf crossed his arms. “I suppose it depends on the cause.”

The pirate chief laughed, a bit too loud to be believable as effortless contempt. His stance was ever-slightly defensive. Ganondorf was being seized up, and correctly identified as a threat.

“Our cause?! Get richer than the lost kingdom through other people’s honest work! I didn’t think it would need clarification!” Another step closer, one that felt like bravado. The man held up an open palm that missed half a finger. “So how are you willing to contribute?”

Ganondorf didn’t bother moving. He stared deep into the washed-out green eyes of the pathetically wet hylian in front of him. Small threats. Threats of no ambition. This was all the Goddesses could handle, and not a single thing worse: mediocre hylians, content with their lackluster lot, fearlessly cruel in the pettiest of ways.

He shook his head, giving the surroundings a good look instead of paying the captain undeserved attention. Crows cackled above their head, and bigger birds seems to nest in the cliffs. Hard to navigate, tall and angry, strong against the storm, unpleasant to be around.

Suitable.

“I quite enjoy this island,” Ganondorf declared at last. “As for you, terror of the sea… You can all stay here and serve my cause, or you can take your leave right away.”

Some man in the back thought it was a joke and laughed; but the humor died down soon enough. Exclamations bubbled through the assembled crew like a fit of bad coughs, growing in intensity. Beedle hid his face in his hands, terrified, and muttered a prayer.

“What did you say?!” The captain belched out. “Are you out of your mind—who the hell do you think you are?!”

A younger version of himself would have used the opportunity to brag, just to feel the kick of his own resolve; a promise muttered back to himself. But Ganondorf was far past reassurance now.

“Or you can all watch each other die if you prefer,” Ganondorf added, with the familiar coldness that preceded his worst slaughters.

That was too much for the poor merchant. Abandoning all reason, the little hylian skedaddled back to his boat with a high pitch sound of distress. Smart move. The pirates were all focused on the actual danger, and Ganondorf would have disliked letting a survivor bear witness to the worst of what he could do. Now was not the time. And, after all, he had no reason to be ungrateful and needlessly destructive. Not everything had to end up in blood, he supposed. Violence was a lesson he’d have to unlearn soon if we was to re-adapt to this new, brutal reality.

But as of now…

“We’ll knock some sense back into you, old man!” the man spat out—old man? Ganondorf wasn’t sure he appreciated being perceived as frail and weary; those feelings were supposed to be private. But the captain didn’t seem to realize his overstep and unsheathed a crude saber to his face. “Everyone with me!”

They all attacked at once, swords drawn and eager.

Ganondorf grinned. Twin blades slotted into his waiting hands.

That simple joy, of all joys dead and gone, the Goddesses had yet to take from him.

¤

The slaughter was over before it started. The pirates were even worse off than he feared. None of them would have survived the wars he had waged centuries prior. In this barren world of salt and greedy water, plunderers were weak and arrogant, and lonely travelers trusted so easily. The deluge didn’t even select the worthiest to carry on this accursed future.

Leaning from the highest balcony he could find, Ganondorf stared at a much quieter sea. Dawn brushed over the crests of wave in pinks and golds and green. Seagulls, crows and even angrier birds screamed their delight in the fierce offshore wind. Far in the distance, he could distinguish the shape of Beedle’s bark, fast escaping the trail of blood left behind. Ganondorf was taken by a vague need to acknowledge what this man had done for him, this thankless mercy drenched in unfair retribution. Do something just, perhaps. Sort the stolen goods and restore what once belonged to him. Make his effort worth something... but already, so soon, the little dot tipped over the foam and disappeared from view entirely.

The waves covered its tracks, and Ganondorf was alone.

He closed his eyes, allowing the sun to trick him into unguarded longing. But that couldn’t last. He couldn’t afford rest. He couldn’t afford peace. This was how the Goddesses had lured everyone else into accepting this; the smallness of letting oneself drift; an existence happily unmoored. That wasteland. That living wound they all called home.

Ganondorf turned away from the horizon, the sun, the wind, runaway boats with small cargo and far greater fears. The Triforce of Power scorched his blood-splattered hand. Ganondorf focused on the pain until it devoured everything else; and then, only then, could he start to think with regained dignity about the arduous path to triumph.

[riptidesblog]

When you have a fic idea but not the writing skills

[nancyheart11]

Guess who's finally posting the fic i've had 90% finished for months now?

[sunlitewhispers]

Marvus and his money headcanon

(Been surfing through the marvus tags and I've got some thoughts to share regarding this clown)

To start off, I personally think troll currency is more digital than physical. Like everyone uses a card to trade or get items (and its only due to the empresses restrictions on things when she removed the adults from the planet) but physical money is still real, it's just a fun thing that highbloods and high midbloods use to flaunt and to trade amongst each other.

To signify the value of the bills, they have a strip of color from the cast they were made for. For example, Teals =80, Cerulean =90, Indigo =100, etc.

(There were coins that were common amongst lowbloods and low midbloods, but that got discontinued when moving to cashless/digital. There is evidence preserving the old currency existence such as in museums showings of the old times and extremely old paintings in the clown churches.) (You can think that these coins are caegars or not)

With that out the way! On to Marvus and his money 💰

I imagine Marvus doesn't really care about money nor feels that it has a heavy connection to his identity compared to performing/entertaining. Marvus just knows that people wanna see him and lose their shit at his concerts and are willing to drop stacks to be there even with the risk of being culled.

With that, Marvus can be loose with his money, quite literally throwing it around to which some highbloods would critique the act as 'disrespectful' and 'rebellious' since money is one of the ways ancestors can provide to descendants and give them a clue to their existence. (If they want or have left a will if they died, regardless, the empire still sets them up with a small fund)

I dont know if philanthropy would be an actual thing or just be a thing highbloods (like Zebruh) say they do for approval points. But I imagine Marvus would be the type to do so in the most unconventional means.

He probably stopped his tour bus once to grab a grubshake or a handmade sandwich from a small cafe and threw a fat band on the counter saying, "Keep da change lol." Leaving the workers there in awe and fear cause damn he just weirdly blessed them, and damn they now gotta fight off his fans from stealing the marvy money. (If Marvus is there, his fans are certainly gonna be there too.)

Marvus definitely buys his crew lunch or, if he's hanging with someone, offers to pay for them when he's out and about. He stresses tf out of his accountant because he doesn't keep track of how much he spends in a day. You know his ass absolutely has a money gun to use at his concerts.

Bascially when you're Marvus, you're a baller who is a big spender.

When interacting with Marvus, depending on his quadrant, you're gonna see how he moves with his cash.

•♡ Matespirit ♡•

if you got this man in this quadrant, good luck on getting Marvus not to spoil the fuck out of you. Trust and believe he'll take any chance to drop some stacks on you. If you guys are out and you say or point out some items, you can bet that Marvus is buying them.

Oh, you think that clothing line is cute? Guess what? He's ordered the entire line to be sent to your place.

Big fan of video games? No problem! He is getting the newest console out on the market in your favorite color with your name on it.

Love sweets? Bam! He's gonna invite you over to his crib and have you watch a team of trolls bake the best desserts of Alternia.

Money ain't a thang to this man. It gives him a chance to show his love through the material means and show that he wants you to enjoy yourself and time with him. Small part of him uses money to be a temporary fix when he has to go on long tours. If he can't spend time with you on troll FaceTime or in real life, he'll send gifts to show that he's still alive and thinking about you.

However, if large displays of affections through money don't appeal to you or you start to feel overwhelmed by the purchases or think he's being disingenious in his affection, he'll pull it back.

He'll likely give you a card that's connected to his account so you can have the control to buy what you want without feeling like you have to ask him. (And such an act will give him a small piece of security to know you'll have the means to survive financially on Alternia, especially if you've expressed times of financial hardships to him)

Also doesn’t matter if it's public or private, He's gonna randomly place bills on your person, i.e., stuffing them in your pockets, slipping them in your shirt pocket, pinning them to your jacket. If you ask him why he's doing that (or wonder where he stores his cash)(btw he literally has no pants pockets) Marvus is gonna give you a saucy wink and smile all dumb and say "a mf gotta pay dem feez 4 havin a wicked mate lik u b ;0)" than he'll place a smacking wet kiss on your forehead and be all noisey about it while doing so.

•◇ Moirials ◇•

In this quadrant, his spending habit might look casual to outsiders, but with you, they'll be a tad more personal. Still be extra af like in matespiritship but he'll be spending money to clear his mind or yours.

Feeling stressed about some unfinished work? Don't worry. He'll reserve a spa service just for you.

Need to cry out some hard feelings? He's gonna get some matching pajamas and grab some emergency blankets to get that session on.

You know that one ring that SpongeBob and Patrick have to show off their friendship? He's gonna get something like that to represent your guy's moirallgience. Anything involving moirails, he will buy and send them to you.

You're definitely gonna be his merch tester and probably be brought to his trips to the galleries when he goes to buy art pieces. (Need your support and opinion when bidding for art pieces.)

Like with matespiritship, if you feel like he's being insincere or rather prefers more handmade gifts. He'll try to schedule days to create personal gifts. He might pay someone to tutor him about your interests just so you can rant without having to stop and explain what you're talking about.

Marvus will remember what your favorite snacks and favorite meals are for when you're hanging with the crew or just him. Compared to where he won't care about what someone orders, you don't gotta worry about an order mess up or reminding him. He got that locked in, unless you want something different, then just point him to it.

If there is a fucked up order for you, he will raise hell. Typically, he won't care if something he orders is messed up. He'll pay for another one. However, on behalf of his moirial, this mf gonna walk up to the counter like that meme saying they asked for no pickles. The first and hopefully (in his opinion) only time you'll ever see him asking for a refund.

A thing that'll be a routine of your relationship is him swinging by your place late af in the daytime to grab you and get some breakfast before he has to start his night.(Unless you spend the day at his hive than he'll order said breakfast and catch some more Zzzs with you.)

•♤ Kismeses ♤•

Now in this quadrant, compared to the other two, Marvus is a clown who's mischievous as hell. This bitches antics are gonna be up to 100 when it comes to him.

Honestly, you're gonna be on your toes for buying things. It'll become a back and forth of him randomly, not having money than to him having it though being really annoying and lazy with it.

If your someone who's well off, you better hide your wallet. Marvus will snag your card and make an excuse how he left his cash in his other pants/trailer/hive and buy the most stupidest shit under your name. (He'll troll cash app you back but do it so tediously that you hope your account crashes)

If he catches a single hint or a word, even a wrinkle of disgust on you, Marvus will make it the bane of your life.

You dislike the residue of his paint left on your face after a hate-makeout session? Marvus now has to buy this one face paint that is known for being messy. what? His manager told him, too. :0)

You think cowboy boots are clunky and tacky? Guess who's strolling up in some bedazzled purple lined boots that jingle when he walks.

You make a comment on how creepy troll beanie boos plushies are, he's gonna get a brand deal with them and send you a crate of his new designs. A note will be attached saying "4 my numba 1 fan ;0)~".

Similar to moirallgience, you will be a merch tester, yet you won't know if he's being serious or wanting to rile you up. Regardless, when you shit on the design he's showing you, that's how he'll know his fans will love it! Doesn't matter if it's the simplest design, an eyesore to the public, he'll promote it to the point that even your small-time friends will surely mention the product to you. Might even send a shout-out to you on Chitter for your 'help'.

Don't ask him for a bill if you want something from a vending machine. Marvus will pull the most crumpled weirdly stained bill you'll ever see in your lifetime and smile at you plainly like, "Here u go buddi dats all I can find on me atm lmao." Additionally to this, he will slowly count his bucks out if you all are in a line somewhere. (Marvus knows no one will rush him and if you complain, he'll pretend he lost count and start over)

To conclude this, watch out for when he's feeling more petty. He'll make a habit of sending you items in loud peculiar packaging that suggest to those handling it that there's something inappropriate in it when there really isn't.

•♧ Auspistice ♧•

With this one, Marvus doesn’t fit the vibe of where he might truly kill his kismeses. Nor does he seem to want to be in a situation to be aggravated enough to join in murdering someone (Going off his response to MSPA reader when the clown fight happened). However, Marvus may strive on not becoming active on those emotions. Close calls can exist.

A tiff among his roadies about best faygo flavors is a good way. His manager hassling him, and trying to change up his brand is close enough. Groupie sea dwellers trying to follow him back to his trailer and not taking a hint is a real close call.

If you mediate for Marvus a few times, he'll certainly be grateful (and a bit embarrassed) he'll grant you a gift card of some shop of your choice as thanks.

On the other hand, you've been around long enough to spot a murderous Marvus, then you're undeniably a part of his inner circle. With the exception of being his paid emotional bodyguard coach.

As business-like, it might seem in the beginning, you're a trustworthy and skillful individual in Marvus's eyes. He knows dealing with irritated trolls, particularly enraged highbloods, is not a fun nor easy task.

Other trolls may feel like this relationship is wandering into moirallgience territory.(which might be) Marvus won't really care about those opinions and possibly offer to meditate for you in the event he catches you in a tense position.

You’ll be called for his long tours when he has to do shows for sea dwellers and, without a doubt, be put through the ringer. It'll end with you guys munching on loads of the troll version of ice cream in silence.

At any point, you're too stressed to de-escalate a situation. He'll give you a paid vacation and make sure you don't come back until you are entirely stressed free.

He may tell you once he calms down that you should open a private business due to your and I quote "motherfckin dopeazz obzi-va-tional skilz."

Small note : Marvus has dealt with people trying to form a quad with him just for the fame/money, as we seen with Zebruh. So if he catches signs that what's happening, he's going to be acting distant and extremely scripted around you, then like ghost you. You'll be blacklisted from his concerts (unknowingly), and future clowns might keep a close eye on you if you hang at the churches.

Welp, that's all! Hopefully, this was entertaining to read! I do apologize if some parts feel rushed or that there were more details in some quads, I tried to keep them around the same length.

[digenerate-trash]

So … I get you won’t do Yan Morgan BUT HEAR ME OUT

Instead of keeping the cannon use a minigun as in make Morgan a divorced father/mother instead of a smelly rat eater that way you can alter Morgan and make them different from the original.

In short terms:

E.X.T.R.A B.R.A.I.N CELLS

Dilf Morgan??? okay, you know what I'll figure this out.

 tw abuse | tw daddy tw | serial killers

-DILF Morgan who is very insistent on comparing you to their kid even though you look nothing like them and they are several years older than you.

-DILF Morgan. who looks surprisingly good for his age, but his vibes are terrible he's very creepy and he smells like seaweed.

-DILF Morgan who insists on making sure that you get home safe by giving you care rides but also insists on a hug or kiss as payment for those car rides.

-DILF Morgan who is always out at the park. you can sometimes run into him on your weekends and he'll sit and talk with you for a while. Makeing sure to make his life sound as pathetic as possible so you feel bad for him.

-DILF Morgan who keeps insisting you join him for walks around the park or strolls along the beach. he's not a bad guy. Why don't you just listen to him? he knows more than you after all.

-DILF Morgan who would rather choke than see you with anyone else ready to hiss and spit at people who approach you even your friends

-DILF Morgan, youre not even sure why you even indulge this creep it comes to a head when he tries to get you to call him "daddy"

-DILF Morgan, you know he's getting worse when day after day he's making sure you're as close as possible to him. he rubs your shoulders when you're alone. he spends his time at the park trying to "tease" you but it's overtly sexual and upsetting.

-DILF Morgan, he's got no respect for your boundaries and when you get into his car to get a ride back to the orphanage he doesn't bring you there instead he stops outside of an unfamiliar house and you fight him when he drags you inside.

-DILF Morgan. he's never been this cold or quiet. it feels like he's trying to scare you as he pulls you through a stark empty home with nothing on the walls.

-DILF Morgan who slaps you whenever you make a sound. who breaks your legs when you try to leave. who crushes your ribs with his hands when he feels disrespected and takes pieces of you away when you refuse to play with him.

-Killer Morgan. turns out he never had a kid.

[metaldevilll]

viv and palp both being down bad as hell. that’s the post.

and like…. the stupidity that comes with it….. they say or do things in the heat of the moment and then they’re like wait no. like palp catches himself staring and he’s just like “you’re so fuckin ugly” and viv is like what the hell

or like….. one of them watching the other, just completely fuckin enamored, and then something happens that snaps them back out of it- like. palp watching viv fight and viv catches his eye and is like “yo this sucks let’s gtfo” and palpers has to shake his head and like… etch a sketch his brain back into thinking mode instead of Gay mode

viv zoning out and just watching palp do whatever mundane task, palp is talking about whatever and is like “are you even listening” and viv has to be like uhhhh nah. palp is annoyed and viv is flustered cuz he knows why he wasn’t listening, palp doesn’t notice, and then the moment is just gone again….. locked in back to normal

i just really fuckin love the idea of them being so infatuated while also fighting for their lives to pretend they aren’t.. and them just being stupid ass little simps in general. like the drawing of palpers in the dress you made…… viv thinking lgbt thoughts…… genius

i’ll eat any art you make of them like i’m starving so keep it up man they are my lifeblood

no because i get you anon. grabs you by the shoulders and SHAKES YOU!!!!!!!!!!! i think vivilly finds a sad comfort in believing palpers doesn't love him the way he does. like,, it's fine if he thinks gay thoughts cuz it's not like they'll come true anyway. he can dream, right...? so he indulges in those feelings in his own time, while pretending like he only likes palpers as a friend it never strikes him that palpers might feel the same way. he’s thought over different scenarios a million times and while he doesn’t have a response for every silly thing palpers may say, he’s seemingly never caught off guard despite humoring him, kind of playing into the chill sarcastic stoic dude trope. but he’s not. he’s soft and he feels and he loves and the persona is a result of that with palpers i feel like he also does believe that vivilly could never reciprocate. when he looks at vivilly, he never knows what's going on in his brain. they do have their moments that sort of prove they have similar minds, but he never actually knows what vivilly’s thinking imo his brain is empty more often than viv’s is when it comes to thinking of his crush. a sus moment happens and he’s like “holy fuck….” but it’s glossed over almost immediately afterward. things happen in-the-moment for him, and he reacts with his true emotions and has less of a filter than vivilly, he gets louder and more aggressive (not with malicious intent, just in general as a silly guy) essentially they both are going "nah he can't like me... he CANT... THERES NO WAY" and theyre both dead fucking wrong im writing this using how i personally view the characters (my version of the characters? idk), i have a limited perspective and small perception of things (if you played mc with me you’d know…), i misinterpret stuff a lot, so like… idk. maybe it’s totally out of character for how you view them. it’s kind of cool to think about though, that they can be read so many different ways when none of them are inherently incorrect I TOTALLY CAN SEE THEM MINDLESSLY WATCHING THE OTHER ALSO. not caring about what the other might be thinking while looking at them, not noticing the other watching them equally as much… they’re so clueless it’s INFURIATING i like to imagine that when they flirt with each other, it’s always by accident. i can’t imagine them flirting with each other on purpose… like, they’ll be arguing absentmindedly, bickering or maybe laughing about something, one of them says one thing (most likely palpers) that catches the other off guard. they just continue to build off of that and i think the only thing that stops them from going too far is them getting too flustered to continue… they could be like two centimeters away from kissing (and they both want to) but they both back out because they’re about to fuckign explode from emotion “FINE. I’M GONNA- I’M GONNA KISS YOU, BRO.” “OH YEAH??? BE MY FUCKING GUEST, DUDE.” “BET.” “DOUBLE BET.” “T-... TRIPLE BET.” “bro. you gotta get closer than that…” "i know i know, just- give me a second-"

in my opinion the only situation where i can see them ACKSHUALLYYYY confessing is like… the other’s health is in grave danger and it’s a last minute thing where they mihgt fucking lose them so they just tell them everything. viv comes back from a mine or smth on the verge of fucking splurging bleeding out and palpers holds him in his arms and begins sobbing and says i love you please don’t die over and over or something. viv survives but he was half unconscious throughout it so he doesn’t even remember. the pining continues

[until-the-brahmin-come-home]

Rats at the Gates

How Arroyo retells the story of Alex Miller finding the world. ~800 words.

It was a night like any others, in the caves that led down into the underworld. For the rats that lived there, they had no reason to suspect it would be different from any other night. However, that soon changed, as the caves were filled with an echoing, rumbling screech of metal-on-metal that sent even the bravest of them hiding away. Thus there were none to see that the source of the sound was a metal door rolling away, revealing a tunnel none of the rats knew was there; and indeed, it had rolled shut again by the time the bravest of them came to investigate. What they found, instead, was a man.

The man was like none they had ever seen before, although they rarely saw humans at all. His clothing was a blue that seemed impossible considering the wasteland the world now was. His eyes were bright and curious, his skin unmarred.

“This can’t be a human,” one of the rats declared. “Humans do not crawl out of the earth. He must be a rat, albeit a strange one.”

“I am human,” the man said, and the rats all skittered away, for they had never had a human speak to them before. This just confirmed their belief, however, for no human could speak to rats. The rats gathered close and consulted each other on what to do with this strange not-human, while the human in question investigated the pile of bones by the door. Finally, they reached a consensus, which was to ask the not-human what he was doing and what he wanted.

“Well,” the not-human said, “I am looking for something called a water chip, but I don’t think you can help me with that.”

“There is water all around!” the rats chirped, and in this they were correct, for water dripped from the ceiling of the cave and puddled in the corners.

“Yes, but I and my people cannot drink it,” the not-human said, “for it will make us sick.”

This was a blow to the Rat Theory, for they had never experienced any ill effects from the water.

“You will have to venture out of here, then,” said the rats, “for the water is the same all throughout the cave. We cannot help you beyond that.”

“But you can help me find the way out of here?” the not-human asked.

“Yes,” said the rats, and then a small cluster of them broke off from the larger collective to swirl around the possible-human’s heels and guide him through the tunnels. They were not terribly complex tunnels, but there were several dead ends, and it took quite a lot of walking to reach the exit.

When they did finally reach the end, the rats left again, already prepared to ignore this strange event. All except one, however, who stood and watched as the very strange human seemed to freeze as he laid eyes on the outside world. This rat was named Gloss, for she had the most luxurious fur in the group. Despite this, she often found herself apart from the group, intrigued by the unsafe land beyond the cave.

“Is something wrong?” she asked the man.

“I have never seen the sky before,” he said. “And there are so many stars.”

He said nothing more, simply staring up. How strange, Gloss thought, for a human to have never seen the sky. Every human Gloss had ever seen, from when she perched at the cave entrance and took in the wide expanse beyond, had seemed to not care about the sky. Instead, they traipsed along across the dry earth, perpetually intent on reaching destinations Gloss knew nothing about.

Eventually, the man had stayed still for so long that Gloss began to worry. Did he not have a quest, a purpose for crawling out of the underworld and onto the surface? He would never achieve it if he did not move. Gloss pondered the issue before coming upon an idea. She left the man in order to venture a short ways into the cave, where she quickly came across what she was looking for: a piece of quartz, almost too large for her to carry. With her teeth and front paws she managed to bring it near to the man, where she got his attention once more.

“Here,” she said. “A star for you to carry. That way you don’t need to stare at the ones in the sky all the time.”

The man blinked at the offering, then picked it up. He really must be a human, Gloss thought, because only humans had paws like that. The man examined the crystal, turning it this way and that; it gleamed in the low light.

“Thank you,” the man said. “Would you like to come with me?”

Gloss was surprised by the offer. She was often fascinated by the world outside the caves, but the wasteland wasn’t safe for creatures as large and clever as men, much less small rodents. Still, she thought, with the protection of a human she might do alright. And besides, if he could get so confounded by just the night sky, he might need her advice in the future.

“Okay,” she agreed, and climbed up his offered hand to perch on his shoulder. “Let’s go find this chip of yours.”

[earthworms-worm]

I'm posting this here and now because I'm going to be in the Netherlands visiting my brother for a week, so have a comic I made in two and a half days because I had an idea and couldn't stop lol

The creatures on the bridge have a mother that is considered an Old God in their universe, (her design may change in the future, but this is what I've got so far). The words for the comic were borrowed from a song I listened to a few weeks ago and I went "huh, I could use that", anyway, enjoy!

[yanderes-galore]

I'm losing track of the yandere prompts I reblog but these are cool-

🥀Yandere prompts🥀

Feel free to use these if you'd like! Give credit where credit is due. Also tag me, I'd love to see what people write with these! You may also request these from me. Tried my best to be creative!

-----------------------------------------------------

Theses prompts contains manipulation, threats of violence, murder, stalking, toxic mindsets, and toxic relationships, and are themed around the yandere trope.

Yanderes are OK in fiction. They should stay fiction. They are not example of healthy relationships. These behaviors are NOT okay in real life. This is for entertainment purposes

-----------------------------------------------------

🥀1. "Oh, this? Don't worry, the blood isn't mine."

🥀2. "What's the matter, did I get the wrong person?"

🥀3. "They were bothering you weren't they? I got rid of the issue!"

🥀4. "You should really lock your doors you know..?"

🥀5. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

-----------------------------------------------------

🥀6. "Of course I was wacthing you sleep.. to keep you safe of course. Nothing else."

🥀7. "I can walk you home if you'd like?"

🥀8. "Do you really trust them over me..?"

🥀9. "It's nothing. Look over here-!"

🥀10. "Well, there's no point for me to keep up the act anymore is there?"

-----------------------------------------------------

🥀11. "Oh.. my dear.. if only these bars weren't here."

🥀12. "The police can only protect you for so long."

🥀13. "I'll get out! I'll get out eventually!..and you'll be mine again."

🥀14. "Darling, a silly piece of paper can't keep me from you!"

🥀15. "I cut the phone line. I knew you'd try to call someone.."

-----------------------------------------------------

🥀16. "Finally...I've found you again."

🥀17. "I'll hunt you down in every life."

🥀18. "You didn't think I'd really leave the door unlocked did you?

🥀19. "If I break your legs, then you can't leave me."

🥀20. "I thought you'd know better by now.. looks like it's back to square one."

-----------------------------------------------------

🥀21. "Playing hide and seek now are we? I'm sure you couldn't have gone far."

🥀22. "Game over my darling. You've lost."

🥀23. "I heard that my dear!"

🥀24. "Why not just come out now? We both know I'll win anyways."

🥀25. "I said I'd think about letting you go.. not that I would let you go."

-----------------------------------------------------

🥀26. "Go ahead..hit me again my dear! It only makes me want you more."

🥀27. "I'd drag you down to hell with me if it meant keeping you by my side."

🥀28. "I'll kill you before I ever let you go. So don't you dare leave."

🥀29. "I want you.. I want you so much and I don't know why. It infuriates me."

🥀30. "I don't think you quite understand just how far I'd go to have you."

-----------------------------------------------------

🥀 31. "For the last time I'm not going to hurt you. I don't know where you got that ridiculous idea from."

🥀. 32. "Hey, hey, hey. It's okay. Look, see? I don't have any weapons on me darling.. everything's alright."

🥀33. "Darling? Love? Come on out.. I really miss you. I really do.. just come on out so we can go home. Please?"

🥀34. "This is for you own good."

🥀35. "Oh there you are! I was almost afriad you'd actually gotten away.."

-----------------------------------------------------

[sombrashe]

mmmmm riding norms face yummy | not edited | afab reader

letting out a sharp mewl you grind against his tongue. he moves the muscle expertly, shoving the tip against the soft spongy part right inside of you. the noises that leave his mouth has your ears burning. he can't stop moaning and whimpering softly as he gets his fill. you're practically humping his face as your thighs squeeze the sides of his head.

"F~ Fuck~ Just like that. Yes! Please, right there."

his nose is bumping deliciously against your clit. bending over the crate you angle your hips. it forces his nose to press constantly against against your clit and you grind deeply against it. you feel the tight pressure in your lower abdomen start to overflow. taking a sneak peek behind you you catch his slowly squeezing at his leaking cock. huffing you double down as you start gushing. he abandons his cock to grab at your hips. pressing you down further against his tongue. your orgasm washes over you a few minutes later soaking his mouth and chin in slick.

[ragsy]

my fallout brain parasites have returned and i've been struck with the need to make a fallout au of my ocs, including detailed character portraits, attributes, skills, and perks, and i know for a fact that i'm not doing ALL of that but maybe if i post this here i'll hold myself accountable.

[vir-tanadahl]

One of the ways I learn to write a character's dialogue is by listening to their dialogue over and over and over and over and I'm doing that with the Caretaker and I don't know if I can get his voice down

[tic-toc-clock77]

Tw//Familial Abuse, bullying, slight mentions/implied SA, mentions of physical abuse and neglect, Suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideation

Clockwork is an incredibly frequent insomniac; because she was abused by literally every person in her family, she always had to keep her guard up and that included sleep.

She'd fall asleep in class the next day after pulling an all nighter but her bullies would throw things at her to wake her up. She had to find a very secretive spot during lunch and recesses to sleep which landed her in a bathroom stall by herself most times but of course, the bullies found her there too.

School wasn't safe, home wasn't safe. She had nowhere to go, she knew if she went home she'd be attacked one way or another. If it wasn't being hit in the face with a beer bottle by father, her brother would be breaking the lock she placed on her room that she always had to repair herself. She knew she had to go somewhere but where could she go?

"They'd be happier if I disappeared." She thought bitterly, 2 blocks down from her home. It took her a millisecond to take off running as far away as she could get from that place. She didn't have to get hit, she didn't have to get her cries ignored, her insides wouldn't hurt every morning, even if just for a moment, she could be safe and happy. She was going to take that chance.

Late at night, Natalie found at herself at a park with her drawing book and pens in her hands. The hood of the 11 year olds green jacket was up so nobody would notice her. Her pen scratched the paper as she disembodied limbs and organs spewing out of each hole. There was something freeing about it, taking that pain she'd been forced into and making something out of it.

Sure, the girls at school had found her drawing books once and pasted all the images around school, having written things on them such as "NATALIE'S A FREAK!" In large letters across her art but she paid no mind when she was here. Feeling at peace, at long last, she wanted to find a place to sleep but that dream was dashed when the police cars that'd been circling the area finally caught wind of her.

"There you are, Ms. Ouellette." An officer stated, Natalie hid her book in her bag and began to back up. "Now don't run but I'm afraid your time is up out here. I need to take you back to your parents." Natalie was defeated. She wanted to kick and scream but she knew if she evaded this any longer, the beating would only be worse so she stepped toward the man in the car and got led to the back seat.

Finally home, she stood in front of the door nervously and watched her father fuming from the window to the living room. Her eyebrows immediately furrowed in anger at the man as she pushed the door open, ready to get it over with and gone. "I'm back!" She yelled, her father's attention immediately turning to her. He yanked her by the arm and she prepared but when the first hit landed.

"Clockeye?" Clockwork turned on her side to look up at the face that held the familiar gash and she raised her hand to graze it. "You looked like you were having a nightmare so I woke you up." Toby smiled, placing his hand on her hair. "Oh, uh, yeah. Just some bad memories coming back up." She sits up, letting herself rest on his shoulder.

"You okay with telling me about it?"

"....Maybe not now."

"Alright."

Toby plants a small kiss to her temple and she smiles, resting more comfortably against him.

She felt rested at long last.