#I"M DEAD

[panteaterconar]

working on the requests. but here are some low quality tys as i work on a rp servers intro

ignore that i hit him with the transmasc beam

[oceantornadoo]

marry me. (simon riley x f!reader)

simon riley is a dick, slight dacryphilia, over usage of “oh.”, reader does not understand this man is obsessed, marital abuse joke (he’s a dick)

—

“simon, would you ever,” deep breath, “ever want to get married?”

you focused your gaze on your hands, clenching and unclenching. deep breaths, in and out. you’d rehearsed the question for days, phrasing and everything. “doesn’t have to be with me of course, but maybejustingeneral?”

simon almost laughed, would have if explaining the story to anyone else. his sweet little dove, all moisturized in prim pajamas, springing marriage on him right as he got into bed. asking, almost pleading, as if you hadn’t been his since that first glance, that first brush of skin against gloved hands. but, you had asked about getting married in general, and well, he had to answer the exact question at hand.

“no.”

oh. well, some part of you had expected that. and of course, the legalities of you marrying a dead man had to be considered. you weren’t even sure if you two were official either, so the question must have freaked him out. you mentally deleted the wedding pinterest board in the back of your head, clearing white flowers from your vision. so lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice simon turn on the bedside lamp, sitting up straight.

“not in general.” he liked watching you squirm, golden light spilling around the room, encircling you like a halo. simon could have sworn there were tears forming in your eyes, the thought so compelling he felt himself get half-hard. your lover waited patiently, spine made of steel as he watched you go through options mentally, contingency plan after plan. he didn’t want to marry you, so now what?

“well simon, i really do care for you but i can’t not -“ he cut you off. “said in general. ‘fore you. i’d marry you.” oh. oh. he cracked a smirk, full with idiocy. you turned behind you, grabbed your pillow, and whacked him in the face. (he didn’t even have the decency to pretend to fall over).

“‘s that for? thought you wanted to marry me, dove. tha’s practically marital abuse.” you couldn’t even bring yourself to laugh, throat still choked up from almost breaking up with him two seconds ago. you shook your head, watching your reflections in the mirror instead. “it’s not a joke, si. can’t just say that shit with a laugh.” well. guess you didn’t find it as funny as he did. how absolutely absurd it was to imagine simon not marrying you, not claiming you in every way possible with a ring on your finger, a change in name, and maybe a baby in a few years. of course you were going to be his wife. what other option was there?

“c’me here.” he dragged you into his lap, strong hands encircling your waist and pulling you into him with ease. you tucked your face into the crook of his neck, suddenly annoyed at your earlier reaction, all tears and feelings in the face of his smirk. “marriage is important to me, ok? i’m just sensitive about it.” he kissed your forehead, then rested his chin on top of it as you tried to burrow deeper into his skin. his hands were still at your waist, rubbing small circles, lulling you into a sense of calm. “‘m dead serious, dove. jus’ caught me off guard you felt the need t’ ask.” what did that mean? had he already been planning on marrying you? why was this stupid stupid man incapable of communication? instead of asking all these extremely pertinent questions, you settled for a quiet “oh.” he huffed at your lack of words. “bought a ring a month after we met if we’re bein’ honest.” oh. you were moving, simon’s hands readjusting to cradle your face, focusing your gaze on him. “i’ll do whatever flowers an’ cultural shit you want. the whole nine yards. y’ve been mine since that first smile, dove. whatever you need to make it official, ‘m here. laughed cuz in my mind, it already is. make sense?” you nodded, still not trusting your words. his face, stony as ever, gave no other answers. simon gave you a quick peck, then reached over to turn the lamp off.

“go’on. time to sleep, wife.”

oh.

—

i’m such an oh. truther. sorry for the over usage lol

[archangeldyke-all]

Drunk sevika telling her gf that shes the love of her life and want to marry her,reader thinks that sevika will remember none of it but sevika actually remember everything the next morning.

this is so... so fucking cute i teared up a little

men and minors dni

sevika's not the most mushy gushy romantic person.

this isn't to say she's not a good girlfriend. she just shows you her affection in unique ways. where most people would buy you flowers before dates, sevika comes to pick you up with a special bottle of liquor or fancy cigars she's stolen from work.

and while she struggles to express her feelings-- especially the softer ones-- she never fails to show you how she feels. she's always making sure you've eaten, and whipping up snacks and meals for you when she learns you haven't. she refuses to let you walk home alone, and you're the only person in the world she lets tuck under her cloak with her on cool evenings.

you know she loves you. she's never said it, but she lets you say it to her. and each time, she blushes, looks away, then buries her face against your shoulder, pulling your body against hers. "i... you... you too, baby." she says each time.

tonight, though, sevika's showing you a whole new side of her.

apparently, work had gone well. real well. when you'd gotten to the last drop to pick her up, you'd found her surrounded by a group of silco's goons, all of them cheering and laughing and drinking.

the second her eyes meet yours, her smile grows double in size. she pushes her way through the crowds of people, jogging to get toward you, and when she finally reaches you, she picks you up and twirls you around in a circle. you squeal.

"sevika!" you laugh. she giggles against your shoulder then puts you down. "you're in a good mood to--" you're cut off when she smashes her lips against yours.

she finally pulls away a minute later, gasping and grinning at you. you're sufficiently flustered, your mind void of anything besides soaking in the sight of your drunk girlfriend in front of you.

"baby." sevika says through her smile. you grin at her, and she kisses your forehead. "'m gonna marry the shit outta you one day." she says.

you burst into surprised, flustered laughter. you know she's drunk-- blackout drunk, likely. she won't remember this in the morning, and she won't repeat this sober, but still... it makes something swirl in your stomach.

"why're y' laughin'? 'm not joking." she slurs. you blink rapidly, trying to clear your thoughts and find a response.

"how much have you had to drink?" you chuckle eventually. sevika's smile turns guilty, and you bite your lip to keep from cooing at how adorable she is.

"we got a lil carried away..." she admits, scratching the back of her neck. you snort and kiss her cheek.

"you're so cute." you giggle. sevika's blush deepens, and your smile grows. "fuck, i love you. c'mon let's get you home." you say, giggling and tugging her toward the main doors. except sevika doesn't come. she stays planted by the bar, and when you turn around to look at her, her eyes are already staring at you.

"'m dead serious." she says. you furrow your eyebrows at her and she scoffs, shaking her head. "y'r the love of m' fuckin' life, baby. 'm gonna make y' my wife."

butterflies burst in your stomach, and apparently, sevika can tell because she gives you a cocky smile and starts tugging you toward the doors.

"c'mon. 'm gonna rock y'r world when we get home." she mutters. you burst into laughter, stumbling after her to keep up with her pace.

"you're gonna knock out the second your head hits the pillow, babe." you say. she snorts and shakes her head.

"no fuckin' way." she denies.

she's asleep the second her ass hits the bed. you have to undress her unconscious body-- her heavy limbs impossible to navigate as you try to strip her of her pants and bra.

and despite the fact that she was sleeping like the dead when you were undressing her, when you crawl into bed beside her, she manages to wake up enough to roll over on top of you and press a kiss to your neck.

sevika sleeps until the afternoon, and you spend the morning cooking her a greasy breakfast and replaying last night over and over in your head, a goofy smile on your face the entire morning.

"what're you smilin' at?" sevika's gruff, just-woke-up, hungover voice asks. you grin and turn around to wrap her up in a hug.

"you. you're cute when you're drunk." you say simply, leaving out the details from last night that sevika would find embarrassing.

she just smiles at you sweetly. "really? i recall a lot of cursing last night when you were trying to get me undressed for bed." she chuckles. you huff a laugh.

"you were awake!?"

"i was tired."

"you couldn't have lifted your fucking legs for me?!" you screech. sevika cringes, then guiltily shrugs.

"i was really drunk..."

"wait." you cut in. "you remember that?" you ask.

sevika's cringe turns into a smile, and she reaches out to cup your face. "i remember all of it." she says. you gulp.

"oh." you say awkwardly. sevika's smile grows. "a-all of it?" you ask.

"you mean like, do i remember telling you i'm gonna marry you?" she asks. you bite your lip. "or when i said i love you?"

hearing it now, with sevika sober and still in her pajamas, her hair messy and her eyes bloodshot-- it's different. you let out a little squeak, and sevika's smile grows into a wolfish grin.

"sevika--" you don't really know what to say. she raises an eyebrow at you.

"yeah baby?"

"does that-- i mean, you don't have to but-- are you... what does that mean?" you stutter out. sevika chuckles, then swoops forward and kisses you. you melt against her.

"it means i love you." she whispers against your lips. "and i'm gonna make you my wife. real fuckin' soon, if things go my way."

you gulp, trying to keep tears from filling your eyes, and you slowly lean your head forward to knock your forehead against hers.

"is that okay?" she asks. you giggle and nod, your noses bumping.

"y-yeah." you stutter. sevika grins, kisses your cheek, then pulls away from you.

"did you make me bacon?" she asks, sniffing the air and wandering into the kitchen. you chuckle.

"and eggs and pancakes." you call after her.

"fuck, i love you. what's your ring size?"

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

[baronessvonglitter]

The Haunting of David York

Dave York x ghost!reader

Word count: 2.6K

Summary: It's a typical Halloween night for Dave. The last thing he expects is for you to come back and get your revenge.

(Spoilers below the cut, so resume with caution)

WARNINGS: Rated M; Dead Dove Do Not Eat; mentions of wet work, murder, brief gore, threats of violence towards family, major character death (don't hit me)

Author's Note: this fic is for @mermaidgirl30 Jamie's Halloween Writing Challenge 👻 thank you for hosting this lovely fic challenge!

The idea for this started out as a random discussion about why we're afraid of ghosts if they can't really hurt anyone.. then I wanted to add our favorite suburban murder daddy to a ghost story and got some inspo from watching old school stuff like Creepshow and early seasons of AHS. (I haven't written horror in a very long time, so gimme a little break)

Shoutout to @yorksgirl for the Dave chit chats-- there will be a sweatpants scene in another fic, promise!

"Dave, not again!" Carol whines from the front steps.

"What?" he asks innocently, hefting the human-sized 'body bag' consisting of garbage bags stuffed with leaves and tied up with duct tape to fashion a corpse decoration in the yard for Halloween. Dave has been working on them all day. He's now up to seventeen.

"The HOA is going to complain," his wife shakes her head. "We got away with a warning last year. This time they'll definitely fine us."

"It's worth it to see the looks on everyone's faces," he insists. "Besides, I'll have them picked up and out of sight by the end of the night. I promise."

Dave doesn't love Halloween, but neither does he mind it. People dressing up to be anything other than themselves for one night only? Try doing that 24/7.

He doesn't get to parade around the Mr. Hyde aspect of his life. He doesn't get to knock on doors while in tactical gear, sniper rifle resting in one arm while he sticks an orange jack-o-lantern bucket out to get a handful of tooth-rotting sweets. He doesn't get to wake up on November first and pretend it was all for fun.

It's a silly holiday, but he likes scaring the shit out of the neighbors with the decorations. And his kids love planning their costumes months in advance. Alice is going as a zombie cheerleader (he never understands where these ideas come from) and Molly is some type of Pokemon Dave thinks is a squirrel but she insists is something called an Evoo or Evie or something completely asinine.

Carol usually insists on taking them out trick-or-treating, dressing up herself in a last-minute Minnie Mouse getup, a red sweater and black leggings, and a headband with sequined mouse ears to complete the look.

"You'll be okay here by yourself?" she asks, putting the finishing touches on her mouse whiskers and nose with liquid eye liner in the hall mirror as the girls wait impatiently to leave.

She asks that every year, as if something bad will happen on his watch, as if he can't hack it alone for a couple of hours.

"Unless Michael Myers or Pennywise show up, I'm pretty sure I'll be fine," he says, giving the girls a quick kiss before they go.

"What's Pennywise?" Alice asks as Carol herds them out the door, and she shoots her husband an annoyed glance.

There aren't as many trick-or-treaters this year, and Dave regrets that he'd bought so much candy. He dips his hand into the large tub of mini chocolate bars and fruit-flavored chews that stick to one's teeth and selects some Nerds, eating them straight from the tiny box. With barely concealed disgust he finds the candy corn, plucking the small packets of the hated sweets out from the bowl. He doesn't know how anyone can eat these. These can go to the next kids who ring the doorbell. When the next round of costumed kids come around he gives out huge handfuls. The less sweets they have in the house, the less sugar-fueled meltdowns he's likely to experience from his kiddos.

When there's more of a lull he relaxes on the sofa, mindlessly unwrapping a chocolate bar as the Halloween song hums from the TV, The Nightmare Before Christmas playing where the girls had left it on:

Boys and girls of every age wouldn't you like to see something strange? come with us and you will see this, our town of Halloween

He finds his glass of Macallan pairs nicely with a mini Hershey's Special Dark chocolate that he knows the little trick-or-treaters won't appreciate. The candy rests on his tongue as he savors the lingering taste of the scotch while the movie keeps playing. He absorbs a little of it, a now thirty-year-old film that came out when he was his kids' age. He watches idly, letting the scotch lull him into a nice semi-rest.

This is Halloween, this is Halloween pumpkins scream in the dead of night this is Halloween, everybody make a scene trick or treat, 'til the neighbors gonna die of fright

Enough of the singing. He changes the channel. There's postseason baseball on TV, but his favorite team isn't in the playoffs, and the announcers are annoying. Click. Of course there's a horror marathon on every channel. All the Scream movies, which he can appreciate for their ingenuity, Psycho, Shaun of the Dead, the entire Friday the 13th franchise even though it's Thursday, the 31st.

He flips channels, mindlessly, watching tidbits of each, digging into the leftover candy once again when he hears a thud.

With feline alertness he mutes the TV and sits up straight in one swift move. He zones in on where the sound came from, waiting, his racing heart the most audible sound in his ears.

Most people listen for a sound and relax when they don't hear it again, chalking it up to the house settling, or a rodent in the attic. But Dave knows better. He's been on the opposite side of this type of situation countless times. He doesn't relax and just chalk it up to mundane things like other people, because he knows there are guys like him out there-- becoming one with the shadows, as silent as possible--

It's coming from the back door.

In stealth mode, he grabs his gun from the safe in his study and quickly, skillfully, loads it. Adrenaline sings in his veins, carries him towards the danger. He flips on the light switch for the patio and the lights glare into the dark, lighting up nothing. His gun is still in his hand as he slowly opens the door, listening for footsteps.

Quiet.

A little disappointed that he's gotten riled up for no reason, he sighs as the rush of adrenaline dissipates and leaves him weak for a brief moment.

He keeps the gun in the holster at his side as he returns to the sofa, a little more on edge. It could be just teenage assholes playing pranks out of boredom, but he doesn't want to risk it.

He shuts the TV off and the silence becomes the largest thing in the room, even louder than his thoughts. He's taut as wire, not allowing himself to relax just yet. He's listening for more sounds. Most are explainable: a slow drip in the kitchen sink that Carol told him about just yesterday, the notification pings on his daughter's tablet that she left on the dining room table.

"Fuck!" he curses in surprise as the TV turns on, The Nightmare Before Christmas still playing where it left off:

I am the one hiding under your bed, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing red I am the one hiding under your stairs fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair

Dave quickly snaps the TV off, removing the batteries from the remote.

It's just some electrical glitch he tells himself. And then the power goes out completely.

"Shit," he mutters, using his phone to light the way to locate the real flashlight. It's not in the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink where it's supposed to be left. Carol must have moved it. He checks the garage. Through the windows he can see the neighbors still have power, so he grabs the trusty flashlight and checks the breaker box. After fiddling with it, it won't reset. The flips do absolutely nothing.

Heaving a frustrated sigh, he pinches the bridge of his nose, taking out his phone from his pocket. The battery shows 1% before fizzling out to a black screen with the gray spinning wheel before dying.

"You've got to be shitting me," he grumbles. With another curse, he shoves the useless thing back in his pocket, letting the flashlight guide him out of the garage. He may as well get the keys and go try to find Carol and the girls, who are probably several blocks over by now, maybe get them to stay at her mother's place while he gets things sorted out with the power issue.

And then..

he hears the sound of his name spoken, a sharp. accusatory whisper, as if it's right next to him. It's so real he can feel the cold breath against his ear. It makes him jump out of his skin.

Alert, his body tense and ready for action, his eyes dart around the room as he begins to get his bearings back and his heart goes back to its normal rhythm.

Stupid.. he curses himself, sitting upright again. Annoyance colors his face.

But the sound of it.. of your voice still rings in his ear. And he'd know your voice among a thousand others.

Now he knows he's imagining things, because it couldn't have been your voice at all.

You're dead.

He doesn't want to think about that day, a cold autumn day just like this. In fact it'll be one year exactly on November 14th. The last day you saw sunlight, the last day you ever breathed.

It's not that you were bad, you were just in the way. There was no room for you in Dave's perfect, clock-precision life. He tried to make your end painless, make sure you didn't see it coming.

Some secrets don't stay buried forever..

Nobody knows he assures himself. It's impossible.. He'd even kept it from his teammates, and they knew nearly every damn thing about him.

No, this particular job.. the handling of you, had to be done on his own.

Casting a glance at the backyard patio again, the light from his neighbor's back porch glows eerily, spotlighting the patch of earth Dave had avoided until finally he'd caved and erected a bird bath with a small garden, a surprise for Carol's birthday. His wife never suspected that you were buried there, beneath her gift.

Without thinking, he's already walking outside, gun in one hand, flashlight in the other, leading the way to your grave. He never comes out here anymore. The guilt has become too crushing and he's not a man who dwells on guilt. He does what he has to and revisits the issue if problems arise.

You won't arise, though. When he closes his eyes he can still see the bullet hole in your temple, the blank look as the light left your eyes.

Forgive me, he'd thought, unable to speak it aloud as he stuffed your body in a bag and placed you in the dirt on a moonless autumn night.

When he reaches the stone path that leads to your innocent-looking grave marker, he has to process what he sees:

there's a hole in the ground, where some of the rocks and flowers around the bird bath have been upheaved, and in the breeze his flashlight shines on a tattered, empty black body bag. The scent of death greets his nostrils as he pales, trying not to vomit.

He goes back to the house, immediately on the defensive, irrationally expecting to find you there, clothes dirty and hair caked with mud and blood, a specter of his own paranoia and guilt.

It's still shrouded in darkness, the home that is supposed to be his shelter from such dark things as yourself. It's his domain, his castle, and in this trouble, without his family, he feels like less of a king.

"There's no fucking way," he mutters, stomach roiling with fear and suspicion. He opens the patio door and steps inside.

The whole place smells of death, of the grave.

You're in every corner, quiet, waiting, watching. But not impassive.

He feels you everywhere, himself made small by your ubiquitous pall. The gun in his hand feels useless, and this makes him angry.

You feed off his anger. You love it. It's the only thing you can feel anymore. Pure, unadulterated hate.

You slither towards him, wicked grin growing bigger as you approach him. Dave gets the chills down his back, not knowing just how close you are to him.

"Boo" you whisper lightly, ghostly breath caressing the shell of his ear.

Your cackling thunders in his ears as he whips around, eyes wide with fright. You delight in the fear he's giving off. The scent of it it so intoxicating. It's the only good thing about being dead.

"I should make your death as nice and quick and clean as you made mine" your voice echoes all around the room. Dave looks equal parts pissed and afraid as he tries to track you.

"But I won't."

You've been waiting for this night, this one unholy night where you'd be allowed to come back, to gather the unearthly powers granted to you. Halloween: the one night of the year when the living come back to haunt the dead.

And the son of a bitch had the gall to kill you in November. You had to wait almost a whole year for your revenge.

Gonna make it sweet.

It takes a lot of energy to assume something of a human form, but as you grab onto the fear he's giving off, as you use the most ancient of forces to pull your corporeal parts together, it gets easier. You don't feel afraid. You haven't, not since he killed you.

"Consider yourself lucky it's only you I'm after. If I had my way your family's blood would be splattered on these walls along with yours."

Dave shivers violently. "Please, don't!" He's not used to begging or pleading. He's actually on his knees. He tries not to look at you; your visage is too grotesque. Your flesh is falling off your face and your eyes are sunken into your head, giving a ghoulish appearance.

You force his gaze upon you with the ice-cold touch of your hand. "Your family is safe. For now. Hell, there's always next Halloween."

With the cracking open of his ribcage and the spilling of his guts you reach into him, finding the fullness of the heart, the organ he uses the least.

All Dave can do is scream and scream and scream.

The next day Carol sits at the dining room table, two detectives with her. Her coffee has grown cold, barely touched. She still bears the remnants of the makeup she'd put on to complete her costume last night. The girls are upstairs. She couldn't bear sending them to school, having them apart from her. Not while Dave is missing.

"He was fine last night. Normal," she adds, shrugging as she dabs at her eyes with a Kleenex.

Because of his position as a government agent, his disappearance is being taken very seriously. Officers are en route, dispatched to start searching the area, especially the nearby woods, which Carol has always feared.

Dave's gun is there, his wallet, phone, and keys also left behind.

One of the field officers comes in (there have been many people coming in and out of the house today) and motions to the backyard. "Halloween decoration?"

"Yeah," Carol sniffles, smiling just a little. "Dave likes to shock the neighbors. He promised he'd put them away before the morning.. but he never puts them out back.."

Out of guilt, or maybe just to give herself something to do, she gets up and goes to put the decorations away. The detectives follow.

Funny. There's just one.. she thinks, looking at the lone body bag on the lawn, tossed haphazardly next to her bird bath.

It's heavier than she expects. She's too petite to pick it up. Sighing, she kneels, the crunch of the fallen leaves beneath her knees. She'll just take the leaves out and throw the bag away.

Ripping it open with her nails she's stunned a moment, not processing what she's seeing before she lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

Wrapped up in the duct taped body bag is what's left of Dave.

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

tagging @almostempty @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @salingers @zascal

[worrysomegus]

I don't know if I made a post for them, here is my new chowling cunk drink they are the worst

reblog to beat them up! to fucking kill them! I want the m dead! kill them kill them kill them kill them

[katakaluptastrophy]

So I know John wasn't in a great place after the whole nun with a gun and touching the screaming soul of the earth thing.

He said, I just kind of stood there and watched it happen, I think.

In a crisis people don't always react as they might normally.

I don’t know what happened to them. This part gets a little weird, you know? Like I dreamed it. I remember P— behind a barricade … not dead yet … telling me, John, run.

He may genuinely not remember. Perhaps it's all a blur. His brain can't or won't allow him to recall.

They shot A— right in front of us … hauled me out … M— said, Take John alive. He’s worth more to you alive. And they shot her.

But he watches all his friends die and emerges unscathed. His narrative jumps right from M-'s death to him outside, hearing the earth scream and feeling P die, destroying everything.

But there's clearly something we're not party to in between. What happened in that kitchen, with A- and M- dead on the floor and John presumably restrained and at gunpoint by his former devotees?

Did they shoot him? Even then, could he not die? Or did staring down the barrel of a gun finally snap John out of his dreamlike state? Did he stop the cultists hearts, like the half of the world he brags about ending 'clean' before the bombs could get them?

But we've seen John's response to one of his followers trying to destroy him before: visceral and brutal and gratuitous.

Is that why he doesn't tell that part of the story?

[r04dk1lld0g]

love it when i touch someone or they grab our hands and go 'goodness youre so cold!! are you alright, youve gotta be freezing!' well yes but thats normal cuz m dead! dead things get cold easy!

[aaronofithaca05]

Family lunch over ( +10 people), and ask my cousin if she knew something about, cough, cough, Odyssey, cough, cough Illiad.

And she said that she was hooked for 4 months to a musical in progress EPIC; the conversation went like this

Me: hey, In collegue I fell down a rabbit hole of Greek mytho, and do you know by chance something about the Odyssey?? Cousin: Same, I´m watching a musical right now and I´m obssesed Me: which one? Cousin: Epic i think, it´s done by a Jorge I think Me: ehh, wait, WHAT? EPIC???!!!!!!!!!! Cousin: yeah.. why? Me: Because is the one I´m also obssesed. The two: HOLY MOLY!, What´s your favourite song, character.....?

Then I said to my mom if she knew something and she said that she read The ODYSSEY and went to GREECE in her 30´s with her friends to see ancient ruins of the EPIC CYCLE.

Asked the same to all my cousins, uncles and aunts, with different degrees of knowledge they talked about Homer´s works and how much they liked it.

I don´t have words; my family is a family of WINIONS, MY F FAMILY IS A WINION GROUP! I´M DEAD, ROASTED, CREMATED.

First grandma last night and today this, my god why I didn´t asked before, this is perfect T T

[bonefall]

Bonefall's Forgotten Warriors

If you've ever set out to make a WC fan project, you've surely heard of Su Susann's Missing Kits. It was a series of authorial statements giving names to previously unnamed cats, and adding interesting little stories to many of them.

But there's also a TON of "Forgotten Warriors" that were created through timeline inconsistencies, offhanded authorial statements, or single throwaway lines in super editions. By their nature, finding these cats on the wiki is a pain in the butt. In this post I hope to compile these cats as a resource for the fandom.

So first, let's define a Forgotten Warrior.

A Forgotten Warrior does not have a big presence. Primrosepaw was first named as a Missing Kit with no mention of her name on the page or in the allegiances. Over time, she has appeared in several books and is now a widely known name in the fandom. But Blossomkit, whose only appearance is in Su Susann's Missing Kits and the worst field guide, will count as a Forgotten Warrior.

A Forgotten Warrior is not just a nondescript Clan cat. For example, if a "ThunderClan warrior" speaks up at a gathering and their name and description is not mentioned, that could be anyone. Same applies to a description that could easily describe an existing character in a Clan-- if a "White ShadowClan Warrior" appears in a modern arc, that may just be Stonewing, BUT, the "Tabby Queen with Distinct Black Markings" of TPB doesn't match any other, so she is a Forgotten Warrior.

A minor appearance inconsistency is not a Forgotten Warrior. Just to pre-empt wiseassery. Blue-eyed Dovewing and Green-eyed Dovewing are not two separate cats-- but I will note down MASSIVE appearance changes in background characters, like the magic color AND gender-changing Stoatfur (just add water!)

(also, I will not be compiling all of the random kittypets, rogues, and loners because there is too many of them. I could, however, be persuaded to compile all cats of a specific group, like The Kin, Sisters, BloodClan, etc.)

This post is an updating list as I find and catalogue more cats. Last update: 8/21/23, version 1.1 Added new category: Sudden Elders

Key: X = No gender F = Female M = Male

Su Susann's Missing Kits (WIP; will update with full descriptions later)

Cranberrypaw

Thistlepaw

Drizzlepaw

Rustlepaw

Elderkit

Tulipkit

Lynxkit

Cherrypaw

Chestnutkit

Cricketkit

Duckkit

Dragonflykit

Rubblekit

Turtlekit

Quietkit

Lavenderkit

Waterkit

Oatkit

Carpkit

Morningkit F Dead child of Graypool. Gray-cream with a white dash.

Splashkit M Dead child of Graypool, gray with lighter flecks.

Swankit F Silver-and-black child of Graypool who lives just long enough to see her take Mistykit and Stonekit as fosters, and then dies.

Splashpaw F RiverClan apprentice of the RiverClan Swallowtail, appears in the allegiances of Dawn, said to have drowned in human nets while fishing with Stonestream.

Storkkit

Quailkit

Eaglekit

Hillkit

Downkit

Swampkit

Blossomkit

Spirit Cats

Skunkpaw M From Goosefeather's Curse, an ancient ThunderClan apprentice who helps him cheat at Hide and Seek. Has a white stripe that parts his face and heterochromia (right blue eye and left green eye)

Fenneldust F A Dark Forest cat killed by Thistleclaw in Spottedleaf's Heart. Light brown tabby from ThunderClan

Batear M Spottedleaf's Heart. Black and white with a disfigured half-face. From ShadowClan

Palefoot M Gray tabby in Night Whispers who speaks to Flametail.

Lightningpaw M Gives Crookedstar a life, from RiverClan

Lilyflower F Gives Crookedstar a life, from RiverClan

Shiningheart, Brightspirit, Braveheart FFM Cats modeled after a real family of WC fans who died in a natural disaster, appearing in Long Shadows

Mallowfur F Spirit who greets Featherwhisker on his first trip to the moonstone.

Major Inconsistencies and Replacements

Cypresspaw F Brown and white; appears in Thunder and Shadow and is replaced by four Lakeheart kits.

Wavepaw F Silver and white; appears in Thunder and Shadow and is replaced by four Lakeheart kits.

Stoatfur X First appearing as a ginger tom, they become a tortie-and-white molly between books.

Ivytail F Originally solid brown in The Sight, suddenly becomes a black, white, and tortie queen in Night Whispers. Is in the nursery for a while, but the kittens are never born and she retires after the Great Battle.

Happykit M A fan name for a kitten killed in the Great Battle which the author approved of. Changed to "Weaselkit" by the family tree.

Silverpaw X Appears in the allegiances of Fire and Ice and Forest of Secrets and then vanishes.

Greenflower F Supposed to be the foster mother for Feathertail and Stormfur, forgotten between books and replaced by Mosspelt.

Gorsetail M A pale tom warrior who is trapped by humans during the destruction of the Forest, suddenly replaced by ANOTHER Gorsetail who is a silver-and-white molly in the Po3 arc

Unnamed Background Cats

Distinct Tabby Queen From Into the Wild, greets Goldenflower as she leaves the nursery. ThunderClan.

Tortie Molly From Fire and Ice, seems to be a friend of Morningflower. From WindClan.

Gray Tom From Fire and Ice, another exiled warrior of WindClan who alerts the Clan to Fireheart's presence.

Tabby Tom From Fire and Ice, another exiled warrior of WindClan. Carries Morningflower's kitten; May be Onewhisker.

Silver Tabby with Black Thorn Claws M ShadowClan warrior fighting against ThunderClan and the Rebels. Could be a mistaken description of Boulder, who is solid silver, or Wolfstep, who is solid gray.

Field Guide Exclusives

Smokepaw X From Secrets of the Clans. May be a consistency error, given that the authors forgot that Smokepaw TNP fell off a cliff and they could be Smokefoot. Close with Tawnypelt, likes to climb trees and watch boats.

Pikepaw M Large, dark gray. The only serious apprentice in his training session of BOTC while the siblings squabble. RiverClan.

Duckpaw F Mean to Rushpaw while training. Sister of Tangle and Rush. RiverClan.

Tanglepaw M Large, big-pawed, long-furred. Mean to Rushpaw. Brother of Rush and Duck. RiverClan.

Rushpaw F Short legged, tiny, and pathetic. Awful at swimming. Girlfail. Sister of Duck and Tangle. RiverClan.

Silverpaw X Sees Onestar and the POV kittypets on RiverClan territory, and brings them to Reedwhisker.

Adderkit M Lost spirit baby in Cats of the Clans from WindClan. Killed by an adder and named after it. Forced to listen to Rock say dumb shit about Nightcloud at the world's most uncomfortable sleepover.

Spiderfoot M Anxious, battle-averse ShadowClan warrior fresh out of Apprenticeship at the Eclipse Battle, tormented by RiverClan warriors while hiding in an abandoned building. Said to have left to become a kittypet

Rabbittail M WindClan ancestor of Webfoot who was caught in a human trap for REAL rabbits, but chewed his way out.

ShadowClan Antpelt M From Battles of the Clans; probably an error. Threatens Pouncetail of RiverClan for scolding his apprentice.

ShadowClan Antpelt's Apprentice X Is rude to an elder. Particularly odd because the real Antpelt never gets an apprentice.

Pale, Silvery-Furred Tabby Warrior M ShadowClan warrior on a sudden invasion on ThunderClan, fought off by Darkstripe and Dustpaw. "Rescued" by Russetfur, but then sand is kicked in their eyes. Could be an error of Boulder, who is a solid silver tom, or Archeye just before retirement.

Sudden Elders

These cats suddenly appear as elders despite never having been seen before.

Darkfoot M Appears as a WindClan elder without warning when the Clans get to the lake.

Oatwhisker M Appears as a WindClan elder without warning when the Clans get to the lake.

Snaketail M Brown ShadowClan elder with a striped tail

Ivytail F A brown tabby in RiverClan who dies of oil poisoning

[dearsnow]

hi!! can i just request any two-bit fluff...like jus domestic warm fuzzy fluff ..maybe slight silliness...feel free to write whatever

AND YET

- you happen upon your very noisy “roommate” cooking away in the middle of the night (two-bit mathews x gn!reader, domestic fluff, lowkey so cute)

word count: 687

a/n - asther fulfilling a request??? within a reasonable time????? the world is turning upside down, y’all 🫡 i hope you enjoy 😭

“Keith, seriously?” Your voice is hoarse, a desperate whisper that borders on a shout. It is 2:42 AM, and your recently-moved-in, much-loved but forever annoying boyfriend is making a four course meal in your kitchen.

Surprisingly, this is the first time you have ever seen him cook more than microwaveable meals and the occasional pack of instant ramen. He looks up at you, clad in pajamas, fuzzy socks, and a shit-eating grin. “What, I was hungry!”

“You’re gonna be hungry when I kick you out.” You mutter. “Couldn’t you at least be quiet about it? I heard pots and pans and humming through our very thin bedroom walls.”

“You can’t kick me out, I’m too fun.” He smiles. He puts a lid on his pan of frying bacon and turns off the heat. “You love me. Admit it.”

You scoff, but when he takes your hands in his, your heart skips a beat.

“You looooooove meeeeee,” he sings, “c’mon, just say it.”

“I would love you so much more if you didn’t wake me up so early on a work day.” You say, trying desperately to hide the fact that the corners of your mouth are turning up. Like always, though, somehow he notices. It’s like every almost-smile from you is a win, one more thing to keep him going before he runs out of energy and crashes into bed, legs entwined with yours and mouth slightly open.

He spins you around, still humming a song you don’t think you’ve ever heard before. It wouldn’t surprise you if he had just made it up. “I love you, and you love me. That’s why you’re dancing instead of yelling.” You laugh. You’re supposed to be angry with him, but the tension between your eyebrows dissipates when you look at his smiling face. If Two-Bit had just one talent, it would be switching your mood to happy. No matter what, no matter how annoying he is sometimes, you’re happiest when you’re with him.

“Yeah, I love you,” you gasp as he dips you so close to the floor you can feel the cold tile sucking in your heat, “and I love that you can make me laugh,” he pulls you back up, “but really, what are you doing making all this food at such an ungodly hour?”

He wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head against your neck. He leads you in a few steps, his warmth smoothing the goosebumps on your arms. “I wanted to do something nice for once. You’re always making me breakfast, and you leave earlier than me, so I thought I’d make a bit of food that you can just heat up when ‘m dead asleep.”

“Really?” You move back to stare at him, eyes soft in the dim kitchen lighting. “That’s… that’s really sweet, Two. Thank you.” If you were being honest, you thought he barely noticed you taking care of him in that way. You figured that it’s just something that comes with dating someone who seems like they could burn water.

“Nah, it’s nothin’.” He turns his head, a blush creeping up his neck towards the apples of his cheeks. “I just want you to know I appreciate what you do. This whole ‘me movin’ in’ thing put a whole lotta stress on your shoulders, so some domestic effort from me couldn’t hurt. I’ll at least try be quieter next time, though.” He raises his eyebrows and presses a quick kiss to the back of your hand. You can feel your own cheeks heating up. “I don’t want you ruining the surprise again, hm?”

“Yeah, it sounded like an elephant was training to be a chef in here.” You tease. He laughs, the sound ringing in your ears like a sweet bell. It’s a sound you don’t think you could ever get tired of.

He slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. He would drop anything to have you pressed against him at all hours of the day.

“And yet you still love me.”

You grin at him. “And yet, my love, I won’t ever stop.”

[beautifulterriblequeen]

If anyone is in a mood for a hard M, dead dove Ruthari fic, I have just the thing: In Darkness and in Light

Summary:

Ethari has miraculously gotten his husband back from the dead, but something stands in the way of their healing, and Runaan has refused to address it. Desperate to understand, Ethari sneaks deep into the bowels of the Katolis Castle ruins with only two words on his mind: Historia Viventem.

[leothil]

can you recommend some long eddie whump fics?

Hi! Sorry, it took me a bit longer to get to this than I intended. I'm probably not the best person to ask for whump recs from as it isn't my first choice of genre, but I'll see what I can come up with. This fandom is also heavily buck-whump oriented, so I'm afraid not all of them will be that long.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania The one, the only! Amnesia, presumed deaddie, what more could you want! 44.4k words, rated M

dead reckoning by euadnes A helicopter crash leaves Buck, Eddie, and Ravi stranded in the wilderness. Technically whump for all three of them but /shrug! 28k words, rated M

something fiercer (something softer) by renecdote In which Eddie gets hurt during a call. Established relationship. This author has written a lot of BTHB fics, so you can look through that tag on her profile for more! 2.5k words, rated T

I'm still standing in the same place where you left me standing by trysetmeonfire Bobby POV. Eddie and Bobby are trapped together and Eddie is in really bad shape. He tells Bobby he loves Buck, because he needs Buck to know. 8.3k words, rated T

i'd spend a lifetime giving you my heart by hammersmiths Where they meet in the earthquake when they get trapped in the same space under the hotel. Again a whump for both of them, but it's Buck POV so he's more focused on Eddie. 10.4k words, rated T

dreaming, given a name by colonoscopys Eddie gets badly hurt, and Buck pleads with God and the universe to let him wake up, while also having to handle Eddie's family. 8.5k words, rated T

The rest I found in my log were more hurt/comfort than whump so I'll leave the list like this! Hope there are at least some new fics for you on here!

[itcantbe]

itcantbe's Legend of Zelda fic master list

Tumblr-only stories:

sifting through the system for the piece that knows my name: (BOTW Zelink, rated T) Breath of the Wild sci-fi AU part 2

Difficult People: (BOTW Zelink, rated G) this is the worm crackfic

Save Yourself: (BOTW Retail AU, rated G) a Black Friday calamity

Ring A Bell: (BOTW, rated G) Zelda recovers a memory

on ao3:

The Legend of Kink: Spicy One Shots and Drabbles: 18 chapters, rated E and M. Mostly zelink.

Elixirs & Engagements: Rated G, 9 chapters (complete). BOTW Regency Era Zelink Romance AU

Sweet Little Lies: One-shot, post-calamity zelink, rated G.

you snooze you lose, rated E: BOTW/AOC miphzel/zelpha/mipha x zelda

one in the hand: rated E. BOTW zelink one shot, originally chapter 11 of "The Legend of Kink."

Under the Boardwalk: 5 chapters, rated E, complete. Modern/Theme park AU written for Zelink Week 2021.

All My Past and Futures: One-shot, rated T. Canon divergent zelink AU.

Now Everything Is Easy ‘Cause of You: one shot, rated M. Post-calamity zelink.

there are many things I would like to say to you (but I don’t know how): rated T. Written with Nendil for Zelinktines Month 2022. Featuring artwork by @aquaticpal!

Whumptober 2021: rated T. Seven whumpy zelink stories, some connected, some standalone.

The Book of Divine Pleasures: incomplete. rated E. At one Link/Impa chapter for now. May never be completed.

Every Time I Itch I Wind Up Scratchin' You: 2/2, rated E. It's the sex ants fic as seen in "The Legend of Kink." Includes original artwork.

Dread: rated G. Robbie/Zelda ficlet written for a rare pair prompt.

Wild: rated M. Dead dove zelink thing published for Whumptober 2022. I might finish it some day.

Creating a Champion: Series, rated T. Baby's first fanfic! A series of one-shots exploring what "resurrection" can mean and what really makes a champion.

nasty side account:

if wishes were fishes: 4 chapters, rated E. an entire mess of kinks but primarily oviposition. includes zelink, miphlink, miphvali, zelimpa, zelinkpa and link x lizalfo.

the queen's ambassador: rated E. Two chapters (for now). filthy zelink.

[mirum-wonder]

X-WING TIE FIGHTER

Well... since my algorithms are probably think I`m dead I decided to get back to posting stuff... I hope I can reanimate them (my algorithms) because being considered dead by some algorithm sucks . Sooo, From now I will be more active again. And here are the last renders of my X-wing tie fighter design that I did some time ago ☺️ This time it's clay renders done in workbench vs day light cycles renders 🚀👽✌️🌟

For more of the art stuff I do feel free to check out my Linktree

[coffee-breath1]

Home is where the heart is. Soap x reader part 1

In the few months that you had been living in your apartment, you'd never really seen your neighbours. The apartment on your right was empty and the one on your left was occupied by a soldier who was rarely home. You'd forgotten his name but remembered that it had started with a J.

The soldier was rarely ever home which gave you the freedom to be as loud as you wanted most days, free to do whatever you like without worry of disturbing anyone.

You had gotten pretty lucky in terms of neighbours compared to the horror stories some of your friends had told you. Which led to your current situation. You were singing along to some of your favourite songs playing through your speaker as you cooked your dinner for the night. Apparently, you had gotten too comfortable with the idea of not having neighbours, forgetting that you, in fact, do sometimes have someone living a wall away.

the first few gentle knocks on your front door went unheard by you before the knocking grew harsher and you paused your music and made your way to the door. You opened it up to what you could only explain as a man that looked so exhausted he might drop dead on his feet. Instantly you felt guilty.

"Sorry ta bother ye bonnie but do ye think could turn your music down just a bit? Just got back and 'm dead tired an' cannae sleep".

You were mortified. You had just become the kind of neighbours that your friends told you about. You had been so loud and inconsiderate and had kept this poor man up when all he wanted was to rest.

"Of course, I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were back" you apologised, feeling your face go hot.

"Dinnae stress about it. I'll let ye know next time. Enjoy your evenin' " He reassured, a small smile made its way onto his face, looking as exhausted as the rest of him.

"Thank you, I'll be quiet" you said once again, still feeling the embarrassment.

He replied with a nod of his own before turning back towards his apartment and you closed your door with a click.

You made your way back down the hallway and into the kitchen, turning of your speaker entirely and finished cooking your dinner.

Once you'd eaten and cleaned up your dishes, you got an idea. You piled as much of the leftovers as you could into a small Tupperware container and quickly scribbled out an apology on a sticky note. It read "I'm not sure what you have laying around but I figured since you just came back you would probably want some proper food. Ps, I'm sorry again about being loud".

Once satisfied, you made your way to his apartment and placed the container and the note together besides his door before walking back to your apartment and shutting everything down for the night.

[ghoulphile]

mayhaps a little bit of a self callout , but somethingggggg about mean ole cowboys rrmmm ...

cooper being a prick , forcing eye contact or else he stops whatever it is he's doing

" y' better listen to me , 'm dead serious . "

or

" naw .. you can do better than that , come on .. "

just a thought i had

🦴!l

i like when he's mean ok 😭?! simp solidarity~

it's so so hard to maintain eye contact when you're about to cum, lashes fluttering and dangling over the edge only to feel a sharp swat against your flank, and a low voice rich with malicious delight, "you ain't very good at listenin' - is you, sweetheart?"

when you whine, struggling to peel open your eyes and meet his harsh gaze, he chuckles. "shit, you should know better by now but i guess you need ta re-learn some rules." he shrugs, a ripple of compact muscle and taut radiation scars. "don't bother me none, s'your hide on the line after all."

...

"now, keep those pretty eyes o'yours on me or i might just have'ta find some... incentive. and that's the last thing you want, ain't it?"

a knife the incentive is a knife

ooooooh noooo what if it was the same but with being quiet 💀 man is full on fingerfucking you to within an inch of your life and it's literal life or death if you make a noise. and he stops any time you get louder than a breathy exhale, his fingers pausing until you squirm before thrusting back in so hard it rattles your spine, sharp sparks of pain making you wince. if the pain doesn't make you learn, by hell, he will.

"in the kindest way possible, sweetheart, if you don't shut the fuck up, i will leave you here ta die. and that'll be such an awful shame, won't it?"

askfgjakhsfgjhskdghs don't look at me i am going through it today