#The most unhinged rambling you ever did see

[kiss-me-cill-me]

@red-riding-wood The way I legitimately squealed when I woke up and saw this lmao

Oh boy, I hope you're ready for my Jackson smut thesis paper because here it is 😆

In a word? Haunting. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time. You write him SO WELL and you always perfectly capture that mix of the reader's emotions toward him where she knows he's dangerous but still wants him so badly but is also trying to focus on self preservation but is ALSO throwing it all out the window because wouldn't we all lmao 😂 I love how fake-sweet he is to her. Like I can't help but giggle and kick my feet even though I know I shouldn'ttttt because it's all just manipulation.

But backing up a little, to the opening lines...

Pain. It was the first sensation you felt. The first and, for a moment, the only thing that existed.

I feel like the first thing they teach you in any writing-related class is that you need a good hook. Despite being one of the "basics" it's also one of the hardest things to master, but this right here pulls me in and gets me so excited to see what's going to happen! Beautifully written as always; this is so poetic.

The vibe of the set-up in this second part is so different from the vibe in the first, but you still tie them together beautifully with your style of writing. Where the first part's opening was flirty and a little mysterious, here we already know things have gone very wrong, and they are anything but flirty and fun. But the way that you feed the audience little nuggets of information about what exactly has happened, slowly revealing the whole situation, was very reminiscent of the first part's slow reveal and build-up. And the carrying over of little details, like the focus on his scent and the clock, really tie the two parts together. I especially loved this line:

...listened to the droning voice of the newscaster announce the harrowing details of the death of the target you’d failed to kill.

because wow, what a way to confirm that things have gone totally, horribly wrong for the reader!

Side tangent: I love seeing what smells a writer associates with a character, and cinnamon fits Jackson perfectly! It's pleasant and warm at first, but too much of it becomes painful and spicy. Aaah! The symbolism!!!

This is becoming more of an unhinged rant than a thesis, but we're just gonna roll with it. I'll try to vaguely organize this into some lines I loved:

“Remind me, sweetheart, what do you need right now?"

Ugh, he's such an asshole. I love it. I love him. I just want to punch him.

back fully arched as if to reach for the heavens while hellfire brewed beneath your flesh.

you felt the unravelled knot begin to weave into something dangerous in your gut.

These lines were both amazing use of juxtaposition. Even though she's in the middle of experiencing pleasure, the subtle reminders that she's in a very bad situation just serve to paint the scene.

Also, her telling him to wash his hands when he was giving her the Advil made me cackle. That's absolutely something I would do tbh. And Jackson does desperately need to wash his hands; that is accurate lmao

ALSO, Jackson getting all pissy about her not moaning his full name 😂 I'm dead. This man has so many problems and I will not rest until I've uncovered them all.

This is getting far too unhinged, but I just also have to mention that I loved the tension in the final part where he's "in the shower." Again, I was on the edge of my seat and just drinking up all the drama. We love a reader who fights back, but I was soooo uncertain how things were going to end up! I had so much fun reading this, from start to finish, and thought it was a great continuation of the first part! If you do decide to write more, I will 100% be here for it, but I also feel like this is a very satisfying ending if you do decide to leave it here.

I don't even know how to end this, besides "in conclusion." So, in conclusion, I am deceased lol. I will be submitting this thesis for peer review before publishing it in the latest edition of Creepy Men Monthly.

Coldfire - Pt. II

Read Part I here!

Pairing: Jackson Rippner x F! Reader

Fandom: Red Eye (2005)

Summary: Intent on turning you into his plaything, Jackson "takes care" of you after you wake up in his hotel room.

Warnings: SMUT, non-con (prev) and dub-con, sexual violence, kidnapping, power imbalance, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, biting, blood, violence, humiliation, degredation, dirty talk, pet names, hair pulling, dom/sub dynamics. This is a dark!fic and a tad disgusting. Read at your own discretion.

WC: 6490

Pain. It was the first sensation you felt. The first and, for a moment, the only thing that existed.

Your skull pounded with a dull, resounding ache that seemed to trail down your spine, as if someone taking a sledgehammer to the back of your head. The pain radiated from your spine to your shoulders, your limbs, shot to the core of your stomach and settled between your sticky thighs.

Next, came the soft brush of a pillow against your face, your head lolling against the stuffed fabric, your body weighing so heavy that you thought you might sink into the bed.

The pillow smelled clean as you grasped feebly at the cotton sheets, deciding to ball the fabric in your fists because it grounded you, because it seemed to be one of the only things that were tangible in this half-awake reality of pure, almost numbing pain.

But the spice of the cinnamon that tickled your nose churned hot coals in your gut, stirred a fire deep within your core. Familiar, oh so familiar…

Voices came to you, distant and well-mannered and urgent, drilling themselves through the pockets of pain in your skull.

As a thin, white light began to filter past your haze, you wondered if these were the voices of angels, calling you to Heaven. Were they always this obnoxious?

They were taunting you, more like. That must have been it, you realised as your eyelids peeled back only for white-hot fire to singe your retinas.

Maybe this truly was the punishment for pledging your soul to violence

The light came from a crack between thick, black curtains, haphazardly drawn across a massive window frame. The light bled across your blurred vision, but colours and shapes were beginning to form around it now, and though the voices seemed to heighten in intensity, you could now discern your surroundings as some private room, the overhead blessedly off and the lighting dim.

A hotel, it seemed, as the gleam of white plastic winked at you in the shred of sunlight. A mint, on a pillow.

Your mouth watered, but your lips were dry and your reach clumsy as you tried to swipe up the mint. Your stomach roiled with an empty kind of nausea. 

Candy clutched in quivering hand, your fingers stilled as you undid the wrapper. The voices were clearer, but quieter now.

“... crime scene…” Pain. “… terrorist act ….” Pain. “… killer on the loose…” Crinkling plastic. “… university …” Why was this mint so damned hard to open? “… physicist, Doctor Cal…” Was that the ticking of a clock? “… shot with .380 ACP…” More pain.“… total lockdown…” The mint left a sharp kiss on your tongue.“… chaos...” Your blood ran cold as you recognised the taste, recalled the heat of the breath that had raked across your face…

The voices were interrupted by the click of a lock, and you startled, images of a spinning bathroom and bright, white fireworks racing through your aching skull as you buried the wrapper of the mint beneath one of the pillows, as if you were a child caught with their hand in the candy drawer.

As the door swung open, and a soft whistling filled the room, you rolled your head to the side, glimpsing the time on the alarm clock.

4:13.

For a moment, your muddled brain thought that perhaps he wouldn’t see you; your vision hedged where the skin of his neck came into view. Your breath hitched in your chest and your skull pounded, and you watched as he removed the black blazer as if he were coming home from work, whistle slowly fading from his lungs. A heavy sigh made his chest rise and fall beneath his white dress shirt, the collar stained in red.

The scent of iron, sweat and sandalwood came to you; you had breathed against that collar, you had buried your face in the warmth of his chest and tucked your head beneath the hard line of his jaw.

Your mouth watered around the mint as you recalled the chalky pill he’d placed under your tongue, shushing you and petting your hair and lulling you to sleep with a voice like silk.

The man folded his blazer and tucked it beneath the flashing screen of the TV – the source of the voices, you ascertained – and after rifling through his pockets, he placed upon it a hotel keycard, a bloodied tissue, a Ruger LCP. .380.

The familiar, metal clang of a buckle sounded, and he loosed his belt from its loops, coiling it beside the Ruger. Cold danced along your thighs, and you felt the ghost of a burn along your stinging flesh. You realised you weren’t wearing anything underneath your skirt.

He reached in the pocket of his slacks, leaning slightly as if to fetch something particularly irksome from their depths, and added a lace garment and a loop of dark fabric to the strange pile of items.

Everything dawned on you at once, weighing so heavy on your fatigued limbs that you thought for one moment you really would sink into the bed, slammed against your pounding skull as breath poured into aching lungs and the mint caught just in time between your back molars. You remembered hiding that Ruger and your holster-garter to the toilet-paper dispenser in a bathroom with navy blue stalls. You remembered lace panties behind ripped from your thighs as he shoved you against the bathroom counter.

Your eyes squinted, narrowing against the harsh light of the TV now to see cameras pulling back on footage of the university, cop cars with flashing red and blue lights and squealing sirens, listened to the droning voice of the newscaster announce the harrowing details of the death of the target you’d failed to kill.  

“Oh good, you’re awake.” A perky yet soft tone innerved your aching limbs, and your head stirred against the cinnamon of his shampoo and the cotton of the pillow.

“Fuck,” you groaned.

“And still thinking of the fun we had…” he chuckled as he approached the end of the bed. You wanted to land one good punch to his smug face, knock out his perfect white teeth. Maybe when whatever drugs he’d given you were gone from your system, provided he didn’t kill you before then.

“Does this mean I’m fired?” Your voice came raspy from your dry throat as you shifted, a lightning bolt of pain seeming to bring every neuron alive with white fire as you lifted your head slightly to look at him.

Jackson leaned down, resting the palms of his hands against the bedframe and smiling at you. “That depends,” he said, and you lowered your head back to the pillow as you rolled the dissolving mint on your tongue.

“On?”

“On how well you behave.”

“What do you want from me, Rippner?” You almost whimpered.

He tutted. “I may have to knock points for your lack of professionalism. That’s now how you speak to your boss.”

Your head hurt too much for this childish nonsense.

“And how may I be of service, sir?” You tried to force the sarcasm past your tired tone but you were drained.

“Good girl.” Those two words stirred the coals of that fire within you, making your sticky, cold thighs squirm. And that damned smile disappeared from view as he righted himself, and circled round to your side of the bed.

“I’m here to take care of you,” he told you, and the mattress sank beneath his weight as he took a seat, your nails digging into the fabric of the cover as if to keep yourself from slipping off. “And before you even think of screaming… remember what happened last time.” He brushed a lock of hair from your eyes with a surprising delicateness.

His words seemed oddly nice for a terrorist, but you weren’t fooled. There was a darkness that you could hear now beneath his silk tone. One you cursed yourself for not recognising before.

“What a relief,” you murmured into the pillow. This time, your sarcasm thankfully came through.

Warm fingers peeled at the tops of your stockings, and your knees rose instinctively, but he gave you a warning look that froze you in place – not in fear, but in a strange excitement.

“Don’t you want to feel clean?” he asked, as he peeled the thick fabric from your legs, cold racing along your flesh.

You didn’t think that you’d ever feel clean after being introduced to his sinful touch and piercing stare.

“I just want a hot bath and a very long extension cord.”

“One thing at a time, sweetheart…”

Jackson paused when the stocking rolled down to your heel, and the sharp sound of a zipper met your ears. He slipped the heel and stocking off with gentle fingers. Wisps of chestnut hair fell across his forehead as he admired your bare skin. What was he doing, playing boyfriend with you?

“Where are we?” you asked, wishing to fill the silence that seemed all too comfortable. The news on the TV made it sound like you’d just woken up in your condo, only extremely hungover.  

“A hotel.”

As his fingers rolled the other stocking down, you had the brief urge to kick him with your heel.

“Where is the hotel?”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he said, in a half-exasperated, half soothing tone. “Just let me take care of you.” Your heel was cast aside, and the urge was gone.

The mint clicked against your teeth in the silence, and it burned your throat as you swallowed. A hand ran up the bare flesh of your calf, prying your knees slightly apart. Your heart raced in your chest, skull pounding, flashes of heat racing beneath your flesh and icy hooks sinking into the deepest fibres of your being as his gaze met yours between your thighs.

Coldfire.

You wet your lips with your tongue, thinking that for a moment, with his bright eyes and his parted lips and his hair just a little bit messed, he looked almost cute like this. For a terrorist and stalker and serial killer, that was.

Like you were one to talk.

“Careful looking at me like that.” A smirk curled the corner of his lip, and the strange innocence of his expression vanished. “I don’t know if you can handle a Round Two.”

Why did he have to ruin the moment by opening his smarmy fucking mouth, you thought, but the throbbing heat between your legs wished for other things.

And what moment could you have possibly imagined? Fuck, you were delusional.

And before you could fire back with a retort, the smirk fell from his face and icy gaze devoured you. You shivered beneath his touch as he pried your legs apart, coming up between them like a predator, eyes locked on his prey. Like a mouse pierced by snake’s venom, paralysis seeped into every pore.

A hot breath swept across your lashes in the second that he spared your soul from his gaze, twin blues running down your flushed face. Though his movements and touch were gentle, his mouth pressed to yours firmly, pulling a slight moan from your lungs. Your hand reached upwards to curl the fabric of his shirt into a fist, but he forced your wrist down. You shattered a gasp onto his tongue at the sudden, sharp movement, the bed hinges creaking from the force exerted. His fingers wove through yours, curling round your knuckles and squeezing ‘til your flesh turned white. His weight sunk onto the delicate blood vessels of your opposite wrist, your pulse hammering against his palm.

Jackson was quick to force his tongue inside your mouth, and you jolted as the remnants of the mint hit the back of your throat. Unable to do anything about it, you bit down on his lip, hard, and he growled into the kiss. Teeth grazed your tongue as you rolled it forward, and he pulled away, spitting the mint onto the sheets. His icy eyes flashed with hellfire but your body sank with relief into the mattress, tension leaving your body.

“Wouldn’t want you to choke,” he uttered darkly, fingers releasing yours to glide across your neck, shivers running down your throat as his palm once again found your pulse, fingertips brushing the beginnings of your scalp.

“Did I tell you that you could have that?” he demanded, the bright of his eyes chased by the dark.

“It was complimentary.” You sneered up at him.

Hands swept beneath your spine, pulling you upward, and the world teetered on its axis and pressure mounted your skull. Your legs wrapped around his waist, nails seeking purchase in his back to ground yourself, a moan hitching in your chest as your hips rolled forward and your bare pussy sank around the outline in his trousers. The jolt that travelled through you, from bottom to top, was perhaps the only thing that kept you from passing out as you felt the weight of the drugs tug at your limbs. Something peeled off from the back of your skull and you hissed, pawing at blood-crusted locks of hair.

“No, don’t touch that,” he told you, almost concerned. With you now firmly straddling his lap, and his legs folded beneath him, he gently pulled your hand away and replaced it with his own. Eyes narrowed in concentration, and he bit his lip. “The bleeding stopped.” A small, white bandage was pulled away, tape burning your scalp briefly as it tugged at a few threads of your hair, and your eyes tore from his to examine the almost black crimson on the white material.

Was that all? It hurt so much.

Noticing your wince of pain, he sighed, and your arm hooked with desperation round his neck as he leaned forward to reach to the end table, gravity tugging at your spine.  

You jumped, nails scraping his back, as a bottle of pills was tossed in your lap, hollowing your skirt around your thighs, and he righted himself with a glass of water in hand.

You released your hold on him to accept the water between shaking fingers, and he shook out two pills of Advil on his palm. Wedging one between his thumb and forefinger, he pressed it gently to your lips.

“Wash your hands,” you told him as you looked him up and down, at the blood that dappled his white collar and was still smeared slightly at the corner of one dark brow, and he rolled his eyes, forcing the pill past your teeth. He helped tip the glass of water to your lips, and repeated the process with the other pill.

“My pain didn’t seem to stop you before,” you said once he’d put aside the water glass and pills. “Why are you playing so nice, all of sudden?”

One hand landed on the bare flesh of your waist, slipping beneath your shirt, and the other brushed another lock of hair from your eyes.

“I told you I’d take care of you,” he said.

Before you’d the chance to respond, he was tugging your shirt over your arms, and you shut your eyes, the collar passing your lashes and crest of your skull. Lucky for him, you weren’t wearing a bra, and for the first time, his gaze landed on the swell of your breasts, your nipples hardening in the sudden cold. His lips parted and his pupils dilated.

“You have a strange way of doing that,” you remarked, breath coming shallow from your chest. Your fingers traced the collar of his shirt, still slightly damp with blood, and began undoing buttons as a sly smile crossed your face, making it all the way until his shirt came apart and your eyes widened at the sight of the dark line of hair disappearing past the hem of his trousers. Your curiosity would someday kill you if he didn’t.

“Shhh. Just rest, now…” his words confused you as he lowered your spine back to the soft bedding, but his voice melted like honey into every pore, and the mattress welcomed you. Breath pooling at the base of your neck, wet lips placed a kiss to the notch of skin in between your collarbone.

You understood now, and you found yourself with no complains, shutting your eyes and allowing his hot breath to trail down your sternum, arching your back when he reached your stomach. His nails dug into your waist, hands fitting perfectly in the grooves above your hips like you’d been made for him.

You shivered, remembering what he’d felt like inside you.

Lips brushed your navel, nose tickling your soft flesh, and his tongue began to lap at the juices that had dried on your abdomen, tasting you. His fingers hooked in the hem of your skirt. It was the only fabric between you, and even then, it had pulled taut round your spread legs. Another zipper came undone, and the checkered fabric was cast aside, sounding like it landed in a heap somewhere on the floor. Cold swept across the heat of your cunt, and lips slowly ghosted down the length of your pelvis, burying his nose in the crook of your thigh and inhaling deep.  

Your elbow had stirred, fingers coming to rest on the wet streaks his tongue had left across your stomach, though not quite reaching him, for your body still seemed to move slower than the world around you. Yet, he was almost too slow; he was taking his time, and you needed him like you’d never needed anything before. You whined out your disapproval, and he nipped at the pocket of your thigh as if to correct your behaviour.

And instead of finally giving you what you desired, he began to trail kisses down your inner thigh, hands following his movements. Your eyes blinked open in confusion, and you winced slightly in pain as you craned your neck to look down at him. Though the pillows were elevated, you sought a clearer view. What did this bastard think he was doing?

Feeling faint, you sank back into the pillow and succumbed to his teasing, a soft sigh hanging on your lips.

“Beg me for it.” His command came gruff against your skin, his tone akin to that which he’d used when he’d come deep inside you. You could still feel the last of his hot seed dribbling out of you, almost as if innerved by his words.

You chuffed out a laugh, and your head spun. “Yeah, right…” you murmured, but jolted as he placed another nip to your soft flesh. An electric current seemed to flow from his teeth through every fibre of your being, every synapse in your brain. You were too easy, you realised, as you relaxed and huffed out another sigh.

“Oh, please, Mr. Rippner… please take care of me…”

“Mm… what’s that, now? What do you need?”

“You. I need you, fucking Hell,” you breathed as you felt him smile against your thigh, the faint stubble of his jaw scratching the delicate flesh. “Please, I need to feel your tongue against me. I need you inside me… please…”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Take care of me… clean me… fuck me – I don’t care at this point.”

He tutted. “How unprofessional of you, wanting your boss to fuck you. That ought to knock off some points, for sure.”

“Stop being a goddamn tease,” you groaned, rolling your hips against empty air. Your fingers slid down your slicked pelvis to try and sate the itch between your thighs, deciding you’d do it yourself at this point. He swatted your hand away, and your knuckles burned.

“Who’s the boss here?” His breath hissed against your thigh, heat trailing down your flesh with a shiver and his nails digging in again.

“You are.” You pouted your lip, shame creeping in but you didn’t care. 

“Good girl.” The praise, uttered in such a guttural tone, made your core clench around nothingness, and his tongue began to light a trail of fire up your sensitive flesh, until his nose struck the groove of your thigh again and then his hot breath finally huffed against your folds. “So desperate for attention, so wet for your boss you’re wanting to touch yourself already. What a good fucking slut.”

Then why not let me? you thought with bitter longing, but didn’t dare utter the words. His teeth were currently hovering over a part of yourself that you didn’t particularly want bruised.

Though, on second thought…

“Come onnnnn,” you whined. “Get on with it.”

The sting of teeth landed on the lip of your pussy, and you chimed out a giggle as another wave of excitement crashed against you. “You’re so predictable…” you teased, words slurring as the heat of arousal pounded hot in your skull. The pain, you realised, was beginning to slip farther and farther from you, like a red ribbon caught in the vicious wind.

“Hey.” You jolted again as his palm struck your pussy, sensitive flesh stinging but your core clenching again with need. “Look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered open and you looked down at him, the burn of his coldfire eyes igniting something inside you that threatened to spill like lava from every pore, every fibre. You breathed heavy and smiled, admitting, “All right, maybe not so predictable.”

“Remind me, sweetheart, what do you need right now?”

“You.” A whimper was cast to the air like a prayer, and you giggled again, hair spilling around you as you laid back.

He placed a gentle kiss right on the lip of your pussy, as if to make it all better. His nose tickled the slick parting of your cunt, and you trembled.

“Good girl.” The heat of his breath raked your folds, and you nearly lost it, fingers grasping at the fabric of his shoulder.

Finally, the wet swipe of his tongue sent you into overdrive, dragging with a deliberate leisure along your slick parting. Your back arched, shaking, into the sheets, and your fingers sought his hair, threading through the strands as you squirmed under the increasing pressure of his tongue. Not teasing anymore, it was clear he wanted to devour you. And it was clear you wouldn’t last very long.

Like some kind of starved animal, he lapped up your juices, fingers forcing your legs further apart and stirring a squeal from your diaphragm, a noise which only spurred him on, teeth gently grazing your clit and his tongue circling your entrance to draw every last bit of sweet nectar from you. Thick fingers ran along your outer thighs, palms rubbing at your hips as if to encourage you on.

Stopping to catch his breath, he groaned, panting against your trembling folds, “You taste so good with my cum inside you, babygirl.”

“Fuck,” you breathed, hips bucking against his face, the stubble of his jaw lightly burning your skin. A knot tightened deep in your belly, walls clenching. He chuckled at your enthusiasm, which only sent you further over the edge, one hand cupping your ass as his tongue sought the taste of you back out, nose nuzzling into your clit. A myriad of sensations slammed into you all at once.

“Jack…” you moaned, tugging a fistful of his hair.

He stilled just as you felt yourself ready to tumble over that familiar precipice, thighs trembling around him, back fully arched as if to reach for the heavens while hellfire brewed beneath your flesh. Breaths came quick against you, nails sunk deep enough into your skin to well blood around his nails, and he growled, the sound seeming to reverberate through your core.  

“Jackson,” he corrected, tone thick with darkness. Lust. Wrath. All things sinful.

“J – Jackson.” You would say anything if it meant feeling his tongue against you again, if it meant some sort of release from the pain that still lingered beneath the surface of the pleasure he gave you.

“Mm.” Approving, he placed a kiss to your clit. Your nails raked along his scalp and the bucking of your hips became more erratic, so with his hands he pinned your waist down, a huff of fiery breath trailing up the cold of your stomach. You squirmed, desperate for release, as he prodded at your entrance, and you couldn’t take it anymore as his nails dug against your ribcage and his palms flattened against your stomach, and your walls finally clenched around his tongue as it slipped inside. 

You fell limp under him, your head tipping back to the white ceiling, your lips still parted from chanting his name like a sordid prayer, stars exploding across your vision and your skull inundated by a fire that cleansed the pain and brought with it only bliss.

You heard him swallow against a dry throat, and you lifted your starry gaze to watch as he swept his tongue along his upper lip. Bright eyes darkened by lust met yours, and you relaxed your hold on his hair, watching as chestnut locks fell around his face, clung to the sweat of his forehead. His shirt hung open, exposing the bare sheen of his chest. Your juices coated his nose and freckled cheeks, his sharp jaw framed by your thighs as they closed slowly around him. You’d never seen anything more beautiful.

“So, did I get an A?” You huffed out teasingly, and though you hadn’t thought it possible, his eyes darkened another fraction, shards of shattered ice sharpening like knives around the pools of ink black that bled into pale irises. Your sides burned where he dug his nails in, and you added, “A participation award, at least?”

Grabbing hold of your hips, he yanked you forward, your legs hooking over his shoulders and something wicked glittering in those darkened eyes. A brief moment of panic seized you as you were tugged down from your throne of pillows. His flushed lips were parted, a bead of your nectar dribbling down his chin. Looking more akin to a wild animal in that moment than he did a man, you felt the unravelled knot begin to weave into something dangerous in your gut.

“You think this is over?” he demanded, practically snarling, lips pulling in a wide grin round his white teeth. He began placing kisses and nips to your trembling thighs, ghosted a shuddering breath over the heat between them. He already had you moaning from how sensitive you were. “It’s not over ‘til I say it is, sweetheart.”

He’d told you not to scream, so you had to clamp a hand over your mouth, cries muffled by your sticky palm that smelled of mint and saliva and the faint trace of sex. He attacked you, tongue and teeth and all, while you were still coming down from your first orgasm. Yet, your hips still bucked against him, and he kept tugging you closer, grinding the slit of your cunt against his face, suckling and nipping at the delicate folds and finally forcing his tongue back inside you. Your other hand found its way back into his hair, clutching the messy strands as if your life depended on it.

You were quite certain at this point that he was trying to kill you.

Finally, as if in frustration, he hooked a finger inside you, reaching places his tongue couldn’t, and you bit down on your hand, rolling your hips madly against him despite the fatigue that weighed on every limb. Your bliss rolled over you in white-hot waves, in shivers of burning cold that seemed to electrify your skull.

Coldfire.

“Come for me one more time, baby,” he urged you, trailing sloppy, wet kisses up your stomach, gliding his weight over you to witness the look on your face as he worked his finger inside you. The knot in your belly tightened and unravelled in the space of those words alone, and you shuddered out a groan as your toes curled and your thighs closed around him. You became limp again, head spinning and darkness hedging your vision.

“Good girl.” A kiss was placed at the swell of one breast, his nails running up and down your sides. Your legs were still slung over his shoulders, now hooked around the curve of his spine, and the last thing you felt before oblivion took you was the heat of his palms on your flesh, the scrape of his bloodied nails, the graze of his teeth and the softness of his lips as he worshipped your body with little praises.

---

The dip of the bed beneath his weight was what woke you, your nose still buried in the cinnamon shampoo of his pillow and your nails clutching the fabric for dear life as the mattress creaked. Pain thudded beneath your skull, but not as intensely as before, and you were able to peek open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the alarm clock.

8:56.

A wicked finger of cold ran down your bare spine as the sensation of his body heat left you, but you remained still, waiting, like an animal playing dead. Maintaining an even breath this time. Shallow, faint.

The soft padding of Jackson’s feet against the carpet disappeared round the corner, along with the low melody of his whistle, and your breath hissed slowly from your teeth. You looked to the TV, now silent, and the blazer he’d folded across the stand. Your deadly affects were gone. Of course. Why would life ever make escaping your kidnapper that easy?

You glanced then to the door, your heart picking up speed in your chest.

But did you really want it to be easy?

Deep down, you couldn’t help but feel like you had something to prove. You’d let this man beat you and best you and had found yourself wrapped around his finger, and worse yet, he’d killed your target. You’d failed your mission.

He must’ve thought you were so pathetic.

The sound of a shower turned on, past the drywall divider of the hotel. The bathroom was located directly behind you, which must have meant the kitchenette was to your right, towards the window side.

8:59.

You had to take a minute to steady yourself against the edge of the bed as you pushed yourself up, the heels of your hands shaking against the mattress. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Head lowered between your legs, your dizziness gradually ebbed, and your toes brushed the carpet.

Legs trembling beneath you, cold washing across your nude form, you slowly crept your way into the kitchen, peering down the hall to the bathroom. Light pooled beneath the doorframe and, by the sound of it, the water still buffeted the porcelain of the tub, nearly masking his idle whistle.

Your scalp itched where you’d been struck, and you resisted the urge to paw at it. You wished desperately to fetch another glass of water to sate your parched tongue. But your eyes caught on the soft glint of knives along a magnetised strip on the wall, and you moved forward, heart pounding so hard in your skull that your breath caught in your chest, for you feared you would not be able to hear your surroundings.

The knife made the scarcest sound as you pulled it from the metal strip, and trembling fingers tightened round its handle, lowering the weapon to a defensive position at your belly. Some semblance of power coursed through your veins, hot and thick and whelming, intoxicating you for one moment as you drew a shaky breath into your lungs.

Until the noise of the shower and the whistling stopped, and your blood ran cold. The drip of water began to time to the mad beating of your heart and the rest was only silence.

Thud, thud, thud, thud…

Turning on your heel, you slipped round the corner of the wall divider and held your breath as the bathroom door swung open. A shiver passed through you in your cold sweat, and though you listened intently, the blood roared too loud in your ears to hear anything more.

“Put the knife down, sweetheart.” His voice came to you just from the other side of the wall, calm and warm, like a man coaxing his lover back from the cruel grip of calamity. You startled, your breath hissing between your teeth, though his words slid over your bare skin like silk.

Jackson emerged from behind the wall, fully clothed, hair not even damp from the shower. His hands rested at his sides, no weapons – he didn’t need them, for that tongue of his was as sharp as your knife and fire raged in those icy eyes.

“You tricked me,” you breathed, collecting yourself, stalling. He was right there in front of you… you could lash out, in one quick motion and allow your blade to meet blood and bone. “You knew I’d wake up and you turned the shower on to see what I’d do.”

“Very astute. Has anyone told you you should be a detective?” he rasped sarcastically, voice darkening. Despite his gentle plea to put aside your weapon, he had that predatory look about him that made your flesh crawl with bitter cold but your insides melt like honey.

In the second he took for his eyes to rake down your nude form, you darted to the left, reckoning you could outrun him better than you could fight him, but his hand caught your ankle and you fell, squirming in his grasp. The rough carpeting scraped your bruised flesh, and kicking at his hands, as you felt his weight clamber on top of you, clutching your knife tight as you attempted to draw it back in to your chest.

“I told you not to play games, sweetheart,” he said, hands gliding over your skin. The heat of his breath raked across the small of your back.

Twisting, you didn’t kick this time, but brought the knife in a wild slash towards him; his hand captured your wrist, squeezing again at the delicate blood vessels beneath your flesh, reminding you briefly of the brush of his lips against yours. The knife slipped between your fingers, landing somewhere beside your head in the sea of hair that spilled beneath you as you stared helplessly up at him.

There was no fear in his gaze. Only darkness.

“You know what happens to bad girls…” His other hand wove its way through your hair, bunching the locks in his fist and tugging at your scalp. Magma consumed your skull, and your lips parted in a breathless cry, the oxygen forced from burning lungs. Your fingers grabbed for his jaw, his throat, but as you tightened your hold, so did he; threads of hair snapped from their roots, and for one blinding second, all you knew was pain.

And without thinking, you screamed.

Jackson’s hand came to clamp around your mouth, frantically loosed from your hair, and instinct brought your hand in a striking blur across the hollow between his jaw and his throat, where you knew you could render him unconscious. His weight teetered over you, eyes widening, a gust of breath burning your eyes as it was forced from his lungs. Blinking wildly and gritting your teeth, you struck him again, until you managed to slip from beneath him. Fingers grasped for the knife, the cool, varnished wood of the handle a welcome comfort in your palm. 

As you made it to your feet, he sent his teetering weight forwards, crashing against you but you held on tight to your blade even as the breath once more escaped your lungs, and your spine hit the wall, jarred but consumed by adrenaline that set your veins alight with fire.

“Fucking bitch,” he snarled, any playfulness of his façade shattering like the icy shards of his wild eyes. From his shift in tone, you knew that there was no going back.

Nails dug into your skin, cruel and unrelenting, and his arm slammed your right wrist into the wall, attempting to disarm you.

Little did he know, you had switched the knife to your left.

The heat of his blood spilled around your knuckles where you clutched the knife, having driven it deep beneath his ribs, and his nails loosened from your flesh, a wheezing cough sputtering against your cheeks. For good measure, and smirking revenge, you wove your fingers through his hair, and brought his skull against the wall.

A trail of crimson smeared across the alabaster-white as you watched him sink to the floor, your chest heaving with ireful breath and his eyelids fluttering, working hard to focus on you as his fingers grasped feebly for the knife you’d left buried in his stomach.

“Feels great, doesn’t it?” You hissed, cocking a brow at him. Standing here, watching as he gasped for his breath and tightened his grip round the knife, unaware he was slicing the flesh of his own fingers on the blade, you felt powerful.

While your adrenaline lasted, you gathered up your clothes – or rather, what remained of them –, shimmying your skirt over your hips and tugging your shirt over your arms. Next, you began searching drawers, yanking them wildly from the TV stand. One clattered to the floor, but at this point, noise was no longer your concern.

You found your belongings and snapped your garter over your thigh, checked the chamber and mag of your Ruger to find he’d been kind enough to load fresh bullets, and hooked a finger over the torn lace panties to bring them up in the low light of the room.

“You can keep them,” you said, tossing them against his face, his eyes still wide and his jaw now clenching. Something like fury passed through the blue of his gaze, but still no fear. Strangely, both unease and a familiar dash of excitement brewed beneath your flesh.

Finally, you made a call to 911 from the room’s phone, telling the operator that there was a man who’d been stabbed and desperately needed medical attention. You hung up just as they asked for your name, bloodied fingers tossing the phone on the bed in your haste. There was no point covering your tracks; your DNA was everywhere, and you knew, from the fury in the man’s eyes, that it wasn’t the law you would need to watch out for.

"Y/N," he wheezed, breath hissed between his clenched teeth, and you paused. "I'm going to fucking ruin you."

"Oh..." you purred, a smile twisting your lips. "I'm counting on it."

And it wasn't from his words, but from the excitement beneath your flesh and the dull ache of your loins that you knew that it would not be the last time you saw Jackson Rippner.

And as you left, door slamming in your wake, you realised,

Maybe you enjoyed your little games.  

A.N. I'm on the fence about carrying this into a series since I have a lot to work on at the moment, but can definitely consider it if there's a demand!

MASTERLIST

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed to any of my taglists and notified of new works!

Taglist: @emotionalcadaver @zablife @shelbydelrey @look-at-the-soul @brummiereader @mrkdvidal1989 @fiercelittlemouse @ohwellthatslifesstuff @purplesnorlaxplush @henrywintersdearestgirl

Coldfire taglist: @mizzbel @violetparis

[thefreakandthehair]

you could be bad, but I wanna find out.

written for @steddiemicrofic ‘guard’ | wc: 532 | rated: mature | tags: goalie!Steve Harrington, fan!Eddie Munson, alternate universe- no upside down, different first meeting, meet ugly (but it's still cute), bars, alcohol mention, description of sexual activity, humor, big mouth!Eddie Munson, long-suffering besties Gareth and Jeff

The bar is buzzing with excited fans, humming with an energy that makes Eddie feel looser and lighter than the Budweiser ever could. Surrounded by a sea of black and red jerseys that line the long, narrow bar, Jeff and Gareth laugh and shake their heads. 

Eddie hasn’t stopped rambling since the Blackhawks won, and he has no intentions of stopping anytime soon. 

Not after a win like that— a shutout win that tore the roof off of United Center. 

And certainly not after the Blackhawks goalie guarded the net like it was his treasure and he, its dragon. 

Sure, it helps that Steve Harrington is definitely the most beautiful man to ever grace an ice rink, but it’s the competence that gets him. Watching Harrington bend and stretch his limbs into pretzel-like shapes, coming up with the puck and an unhinged grin, really gets his motor running.

“I mean, did you see him?” Eddie asks for maybe the tenth time since sitting at the shiny, shellacked bar. “Jeff, you get it, right? You see what I’m seeing, right?” 

“I see a guy who’s really great at his job, and I see another guy who sounds insane. Guess which one you are?” Jeff snorts into his beer and takes a sip. 

“Gareth, buddy, surely you can understand where I’m coming from. Remember the first time you saw Lars Ulrich?” Eddie turns, knocking his shoulder against Gareth’s. 

“Duh, dude,” Gareth leans forward and yells in response, the bar erupting into cheers and more drunken celebrations. “The difference is that I wanted to be Lars Ulrich. You want to fuck Steve Harrington.” 

Eddie clutches his chest in feigned offense and feels himself being pushed against the bar as the building fills up with what must be the final wave of fans leaving the stadium. The bartender nods behind him with a knowing smile and passes a draft beer over Eddie’s shoulder into a large, veiny hand. 

“Okay, fine,” Eddie concedes, resting his own drink on the bar. “You’re right. The way I would fuck Steve Harrington is obscene. I’d let him violate whatever obscure, unknown Bible Belt laws he wanted. He's a ride I wouldn't survive. The wheels would come right off.”

“Uh, Eddie?” Jeff tries to interrupt but Eddie’s having none of it. 

“Nope, I’m not done. That split save? The way he guarded his crease? And for a fucking 36-save shutout? Holy shit.”

“Ed—” Gareth tries but Eddie steamrolls him, too. 

“What is it you call it, Gare? A competency kink? Well, sure. Fine. Call it what you want, but he’s so good at what he does. I need him in a way that would disappoint my grandmother, and not just because she was homophobic."

A hand— the same hand that had reached over him to grab the glass just a few minutes ago— pats him on the shoulder and when Eddie turns around to see who the fuck is touching him, he nearly falls off of the wobbly stool.

Steve Harrington grins, a drink in one hand and the other still resting on Eddie’s frozen frame. 

“I think your grandmother would’ve liked me,” he shrugs. “I have a way with families.” 

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Aegon with barkeep reader—you aren't getting paid enough for this.

Yandere Aegon always escaped to Fleabottom to indulge in pleasures and escape painful memories. The weight of the crown on his head nearly snapped his neck every time he was forced to wear it. Yet here, in Dragon Breaths Tavern, he was simply another stranger within the crowd of thousands. He always chose to conceal his appearance, but his voice was always what gave him away.

He has a favorite barkeep: you.

You always listen to his ramblings. You make sure he has somewhere to sleep when he is far too intoxicated to escape back to the castle. You're irritable and snap at people. It's hot. You never let anyone get away with anything in the bar, not even him. 

Mhm.

He'd whine your name in the middle of the night when his mind was far too gone to care about the possible consequence.

Yandere Aegon is incredibly talkative while drunk. His depression, or known at that time as just an incurable sadness, was on full display. He'd ask for your strongest drink and order so many that he forgot his name and title. It was almost endearing. He'd babble on about what made him sad, and you'd listen attentively.

You didn't have to worry much about people realizing he was the king. The ones that did disappeared. They were murdered, most likely.

You may have no formal education, but that doesn't make you completely inept.

You could see the unhinged glint in his violet irises. You could tell he was getting attached. You just couldn't do much about it. You need the job, and he never forgets to give you a hefty tip for your service.

Yandere Aegon has propositioned you on multiple occasions. Most of the time he's plastered, a handful he's not. He always gives you a sly smile and some fleeting touches. You scolding him only makes him want you more. He's hard more than he's drunk.

Whether you agreed to it or not, the only difference is time. If you love him, then you get your freedom just a bit longer. If you're stubborn about your love, then he'll make sure there are chains around your hands, ankles, and most importantly, heart.

Yandere Aegon makes you take a job in the castle. You become the cupbearer. It's a job that doesn't bring much excitement, unless you count pompous nobles talking through their asses 'excitement'. You make a good amount of coin. Your social status rises faster than a dragon taking to air.

Your own room. A room near Aegon's.

It is as if he purposefully thinned the walls, much to your displeasure. You can hear the moans from whores and Aegon alike during the hours when everyone is given rest. It's an endless torture that slips into your dreams, making them wetter than you've ever dreamt before.

Yandere Aegon has many people thinking it is inappropriate to have a commoner suddenly peak the king's interest so blatantly. You are no longer the dirt on the bottom of the nobility's shoe. You are almost equal, if not greater, due to the protection you are afforded by the ruler.

Rumors aren't needed. They will say their peace to your face. They don't fluff it up with their frivolously sacchariferous words. Those who dare are crude and ruthless.

The next day they'll end up with their heads on pikes outside the castle.

Yandere Aegon wants you as a second spouse. He fucks other whores, but only because he can't have you all day and night. He'll stop after the both of you get married. He knows it's a pipdream. He's the king, though.

Who is going to stop him?

It's not going to be Alicent or Otto.

He's not letting Aemond fucking touch you. Asshole tried to char him once. He got out with multiple scars, but he is able to walk and is still quite a looker. Aemond won't steal you. He'll the gut the fucker before it comes to that.

Yandere Aegon just needs alcohol and you. It's the only two things that're keeping him securely tethered to this world. Your specialty is alcohol. It's a match made in the heavens.

tags: ( @kawaiicoffeedream ) & ( @littybeech )

[ldrfanatic]

promise.

theodore nott x fem!reader

synopsis - as you quite literally stumble upon the enigmatic persona of theodore nott, you unintentionally become entangled in the intrigue surrounding him

warnings - mentions of death, domestic violence, cursing, and alcohol consumption

considering a part two to this... I have a few cute ideas in mind.

the next part of thirteen is coming soon I'm like halfway through but in the meantime, here's this.

works slytherin boys

Theodore Nott absolutely hated human interaction. He didn't want to be looked at or spoken too. And he most certainly did not want to be touched. In stark contrast to his best friend Mattheo's loud and boisterous personality, Theodore Nott was quiet. Reserved. He rarely ever spoke to anyone outside of his friend group, and even then he'd been known to simply pretend the rest of the world didn't exist on a whim. Yes, Theodore Nott hated people.

Theo was yanked from his thoughts as a figure slammed into him.

"I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed. The books and parchment in your arms had gone flying as you collided with someone else in the halls. When you were met with silence, you looked up and suddenly, Theo lost his train of thought. You'd ran into Theodore. The slytherin boy looked at you with a rather intense stare, but he didn't say anything.

He just stared.

Awkwardly.

Theodore stared at you as you rambled out apologies and phrase after phrase of complete nonsense. It was actually kind of cute. And it was the first time that someone had taken the time to talk to him properly since he'd been at hogwarts. Even teachers had given up on trying to engage him in conversation.

"There's a party tonight at Slytherin house. Be there." You stood gaping at Theo with your mouth slightly open. He figured you were fairly shocked at having heard him speak considering how scarcely he allowed words to fall from his lips.

Internally, Theodore grimaced at his own words. Years and years of barely speaking to anyone had obviously done nothing for his social skills. He racked his brain as he tried to recall his time in primary school so as to remember how to properly communicate.

"I mean, you can come. I-If you'd like that is." Once again Theo cringed as he tripped over his own tongue. It felt unnatural to stutter. He'd never stammered over his words like that. But there was something about that unhinged his soul. He hadn't quite figured out if he enjoyed it or not but this party was the perfect excuse to get closer to you while he studied the affects you have on him.

"I'll be there." You offered him a smile that made his heartbreat thrum in his ears.

“Promise?”

The word tumbled out of him before he could stop himself. He watched as your brows furrowed curiously. After all, it was quite an odd thing to make someone promise. But you didn’t question it.

“I promise.”

Your words meant everything to him. Theo closed his eyes in a manic attempt to calm his thoughts, and when he opened them, you were gone. Odd. Perhaps he'd imagined the whole thing.

Or perhaps not.

In fact, as he looked at over by the snack table casually conversing with Pansy Parkinson, Theo was certain he hadn't imagined the interaction. Even more so when you turned and smiled at him apparently feeling his gaze on you.

He watched as Pansy muttered something to you that had you looking curiously over at him. You pointed at him and cocked your head slightly sideways (an adorable action that made Theo's heart beat too fast). Just as quickly as you'd done it, you shrugged at Pansy and took a sip of the juice in your hand.

For the second time that day, Theodore was jarred from his thoughts.

Mattheo's hand knocked onto Theo's shoulder.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

When Theo turned to look at the boy, he wasn't surprised to see that he was intoxicated. Mattheo often found solace in drugs and alcohol, something Theo didn't quite understand. No. He preferred to be calm and in control.

Mattheo carried on, not expecting Theo to respond.

"So who's the girl?"

Theo flashed Mattheo a feigned confused look that he knew Mattheo saw right through.

"Oh don't give me that bullshit. You know the girl that you're staring holes into?"

When his friend continued to ignore him, Mattheo pulled back so he was standing up mostly straight and set his beer down on the table in front of the couch with a rather loud thunk.

"Fine. If you have no interest in her then surely you won't mind if I make her my next conquest. She is quite pretty."

Mattheo didn't make it two steps before Theodore was harshly shoving him aside until his bum found the couch. "Stay away."

The dark haired boy smirked up at him. It was pretty clear that Theo had some sort of feelings for you well beyond what he normally thought of pretty much anyone else.

In their own little world, the two hadn't noticed you and Pansy approaching them. Pansy looked on with a knowing look as you flocked to Theo worriedly.

"Are you alright Theodore?"

When Theo turned to look at you, he felt his rage dissipate. He also fell silent again. For the first time in his life, Theo was unable to speak not because he didn't want to, but because he just didn't know what to say. He fished for sentences in his brain or words of any kind really and yet he came up empty.

Afraid that he'd make a fool of himself again, Theo turned swiftly on his heel and removed himself from the situation.

As you watched Theo leave, you found yourself wildly confused. What the fuck just happened? Sure, Theo was known for just getting up and leaving conversations. But he'd stood there looking at you and even opened his mouth like he was going to say something. Then he just left.

"No hard feelings, Y/n. Theo doesn't like people."

You tried to force yourself to believe Pansy's words. Theo was fine, he just didn't like people. Everyone knew that. But the look that Mattheo exchanged with Theo before he left itched at you in a way that made you feel as though there was something deeper going on there that you weren't privy to.

It turns out, Theo's behavior bothered you enough for you to break one of your cardinal rules: never involve yourself with Mattheo Riddle & Co. You'd had this ingrained in your mind since you started hogwarts. There were only ever two exceptions. One, for Pansy Parkinson who it turned out really spent more time with the Greengrass sisters than Mattheo and his posse. And two, for Theodore Nott whom you'd had a schoolgirl crush on since third year. He was simply too handsome to ignore. And though you'd never really had more than exactly one ten second conversation with him right after you'd damn near toppled him over, you felt concern for him after the incident in the Slytherin party the other night.

Hence why you were standing in front of a grinning Mattheo Riddle at breakfast one morning.

"Where's Theodore?"

Mattheo sucked a breath in through his teeth and looked at you with mischievous eyes.

"Sorry darling. Can't betray one of my best mates, can I?"

"I'm worried about him."

"Then go find him."

You rolled your eyes. You should've known conversing with the likes of Riddle was going to be a waste of your time.

"If I knew where to find him, do you really think I'd be slumming it with you right now? I just want to check on him."

Mattheo looked up at you from his seat with false offense.

"Slumming it? I will have you know that my company is desired by many. And if you're really that desperate to find him, what do you say you and I go get ourselves a broom closet? I'm sure he'd be more than willing to crash our party."

Your eyebrows furrowed as the hidden meaning of Mattheo's words flew clear over your head.

"As if. Enough of your games, Riddle. Draco!"

The platinum haired boy jumped when you barked out his name. He squeaked out a 'yes' in return. You really could be quite intimidating when you wanted to be.

"Where the hell is Theodore?"

"Last I saw him he was out in the gardens."

You swung your bag over your shoulder, watching on in amusement while Mattheo delivered a rapid thump to the back of Draco's head. The boys began to squabble, but you didn't stay to watch, instead taking off towards the gardens.

When you got there, Theo was pacing back in forth in front of the Gardenias. The sound of your approaching footsteps startled him and he whipped around to see who'd followed him out here. As his eyes fell on your figure, he noticeably relaxed.

"Theodore, are you alright?" You repeated your words from last night. Theo's chest heaved as he took a rather deep breath.

"Gardenias were her favorite flower."

You stared on in confusion before it hit you. "Your mother."

You remembered hearing your parents talk about the death of Isabella Nott when you were around 8 or 9 years old. Cantankerous Nott was a prominent figure in the Ministry of Magic, so the death of his wife spread like wildfire amongst the wizarding world.

"When I want to talk to her, I come out here. Being near Gardenias makes me feel... closer to her. I know it's silly."

"It's not silly Theo." This was the most that anyone had ever heard Theo speak. There was no way you were going to let him recluse out of unnecessary embarrassment.

"When I was a boy, my father used to hit my mother. I- I couldn't understand why. She was kind, loving, beautiful. Everything a foul man like him could've hoped for. It frustrated me that I couldn't do anything to help her."

He took a deep breath and tears welled up in his eyes. His gaze had found it's way back to the Gardenias and he focused on them as he continued.

"Then one day, I came home from primary school and they were fighting. My father was the angriest I'd ever seen him. My mother told me to go upstairs to my room. But I didn’t want to leave her so I hid behind the stairs, peeking through the bars. I was worried for her. Then as I watched, my father beat my mother to death. It's why I can see the Thestrals. It's... also why I don't speak. I prefer to be in my mind, where I can be with my memories of her."

Though you couldn't exactly relate to Theodore, your heart ached for him. To have watched his mother die at such a young age, and at the hands of his own father in such a brutal way. It's understandable the impact that it had on him.

“That’s understandable.”

Theo turned to face you, face flushed and chest heaving as though he’d just run a mile.

“It’s more than that though. If you stay away from people, you can’t get attached. If you don’t get attached…”

He trailed off but you could piece together what he was getting at fairly easily.

“You don’t have to worry about getting hurt.”

Theo nodded, chestnut curls blowing gently as a breeze passed through. Your hand made itself busy toying with the leaves of a nearby bush. The deep tones of Theo’s voice echoed as he spoke again.

“It’s different with you. I tried like hell not to get attached. But I can’t help it but want to be close to you. Because you’re so kind. Because you don’t push me to speak, instead you fill the silence with your own beautiful voice. Because for the first time since her death, being present, with you, brings me more happiness than being in my memories with her.”

Theo motioned frantically with his hands as he spoke. It was odd to see a boy usually so stoic be overcome with emotions in this way. When he turned to face the Gardenia bushes again, you came to stand beside him. With gentle hands, you ran your fingers over the white petals of the Gardenias.

“You know I remember reading something once in a muggle book about flowers. Muggles are so silly, aren’t they?”

When Theo turned to you with a questioning look, you took that as your cue to continue.

“They see things they don’t understand. They label them as ‘miracles’ and then come up with these ridiculous folktales and stories just so they don’t have to face the discomfort of not knowing. It must be maddening to them, not knowing.

“Not knowing about where they came from. Or what comes after when they… pass. So instead they label everything, instead of marveling in the beauty and the realness of simply not knowing.”

The boy at your side had completely torn his attention from the ivory flowers and fixed his gaze on you. His eyes seemed to hold and unspoken question, are you going anywhere with this?

“They have a belief about Gardenias. Ancient tales speak of gods and goddesses who transformed Gardenias into sacred tokens, giving them magical properties, which I found to be most intriguing considering that nowadays the majority of muggles don’t believe in magic at all.

“One thing I did find particularly interesting. The muggles believe that Gardenias signify an untold love. They are also given to convey “you're lovely”. Because of this, the gardenia is a flower that they give to lovers, friends, and even family. It's a way of telling them how lovely they are.”

You grasped his hand in his.

“Theo I think remembering your mother through Gardenias is a lovely way to do so. I think she would’ve liked that. And I believe that whatever happens to us when we die, your mother uses all of her strength to tell you through every Gardenia on Earth how much she loves you.”

With your kind words, the dam that seemed to be holding in Theo’s emotions for the last 7 years, shattered. Hits tears streamed down his face and he all but launched himself into your arms. He cried, sobbed actually, and clutched your figure closely to his.

When he finally calmed, his rough hand made its way back into yours. He sniffled softly for a few minutes and the pair of you watched the Gardenias together for a little while.

Finally, after he’d regained control, Theo plucked a Gardenia from the bushes and brought out his wand. He muttered a few spells softly which you recognized as preservation spells. Then, to your surprise, he held the flower out to you with two simple words.

“You’re lovely.”

“Promise?”

You teased him lightly, returning the words he’d spoken to you yesterday afternoon.

Theo fought his own grin at the way your lips turned up. He did have a reputation to uphold and he couldn’t very well do that if he was caught grinning at you.

“Promise.”

Oh to hell with Theodore Nott’s bloody reputation. In the week following your stolen moments in the garden, you and Theodore Nott began courting. When the rest of Hogwarts got wind after a Hufflepuff saw him kiss you outside of the Herbology greenhouse, the student body descended into chaos.

Still, the chatters died down within the day following. In fact, most of your fellow students seemed to think that the whisperings surrounding a relationship between yourself and Theo were simply rumors.

‘She spends a lot of time with the Slytherins.’ One student whispered in the back of Potions.

‘So? She’s friends with Pansy Parkinson, isn’t that her lot as well.’ Another student whispered back.

And since neither you nor Theodore were particularly large gossips, not one of the pair of you said anything to confirm or deny the rumors. Which only fueled more into the leading theory, that the Hufflepuff who saw you kiss was simply imagining it.

Of course, you, Theodore, and the rest of Mattheo & Co. knew differently but that didn’t really bother either of you.

So Theodore continued his life in peace. Knowing that he had the most beautiful girl in the castle in his arms every night, and his reputation for being the most emotionless son a bitch in Hogwarts was still in tact. Theodore Nott had found happiness for once.

Or he was happy.

That is until he saw that bloody Ravenclaw Anthony Goldstein chatting you up by the juice at the evening’s Slytherin House Party.

All week Theo had successfully maintained his carefree and cold hearted front. Yet watching the stupid blonde chat you up while you constantly waved him away made his blood boil. It was more than simple jealousy. It was disrespectful enough to dally around with another man’s girl. But to continue to harass the poor girl when she’d clearly asked you to leave was just in poor character. And for Goldstein to think he could get away with pursuing Theodore’s girl at all was ridiculous and frankly insulting.

So, employing a trick as old as time itself, Theodore stood from his seat next to Draco and just walked away. Whatever the platinum blonde was saying to him was cut off. He looked around at the others around him, motioning to Theo’s retreating figure.

“What are gonna do with him?”

But Theo ignored him. If he didn’t want to entertain Draco’s nonsense any longer, it was his given right to walk away. He had legs, after all.

Legs which were currently making short time towards where his beautiful girlfriend stood in a black cocktail dress. As soon as he was in arms reach, Theo pulled her soft figure into his own, closer and closer until he could smell the perfume on her. It was like having his own little Amortentia when he was around you. As usual, the feeling of your soft skin against his was calming.

It should have been calming.

It would have been calming.

If that idiot blonde hadn’t rudely interrupted Theodore’s plan to remove his personal heaven from the situation by walking the pair of you away from fucking Anthony Goldstein.

“Wait! I was trying to give her an invitation for the party Ravenclaw is having next week.”

Theo stopped and turned, desperately trying to reel in his anger for your sake.

“Sorry she has awful memory.”

The edges of Theo’s mouth ticked up slightly as a giggle broke from your lips behind him. He fought the urge to smile at the sound of your laughter.

“That’s alright I can just tell you, mate.”

This kid was either absolutely stupid or had a death wish. Clearly, you weren’t interested. Clearly, you were already well taken care of.

“No need, mate.” Theo spit out the word in a tone drastically unlike the cheerful one that Goldstein had used. They most certainly were not mates.

“Oh come on, Nott. It can’t hurt.”

Finally Theo’s resolve snapped. He released your hand from his own, faintly aware of your hand grasping the back of his shirt as he stepped closer to the boy in front of him.

“Might hurt.” The words concealed a thinly veiled threat. One that Anthony Goldstein apparently picked up on.

His face blanched and his features twisted. He returned the Slytherins glare with a less effective one of his own.

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

A beat of tense silence passed between the pair, interrupted by you.

“Oh—kay. Let’s all calm down. We’re all… acquaintances?”

Even calling the two boys acquaintances was a major stretch. But before Theo could satisfy the growing need to slam his fist into Anthony’s face repeatedly, the Ravenclaw scoffed out a ‘whatever’ and stalked away.

“Theo…”

Your soft lips dragged out the syllables of Theo’s name but he was still feeling the after effects of his jealousy. He couldn’t believe that stupid fucker had the nerve to challenge him for a girl that was already his. No more of that.

Theo gently took your small wrist in his hand. He led you to the top of the stone stairs that let to the Slytherin Dorms. As you passed, heads turned. And by the time you made it to the top of the grand staircase, every pair of eyes in the party had focused on the two of you.

And in front of all of them, Theo kissed you. Fiercely.

The party was silenced in shock. Even the music had stopped. A few students whispered between themselves. Theo’s friends were exchanging grins and knowing looks.

Theo finally felt at peace as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“You’re my girlfriend.”

“Promise.”

---

wc 3.4k

04.21.24

theodore taglist

@moonlightreader649 @svt-dk97 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess

[enjisbf]

Hungry man

° Pairing: Enji Todoroki x fem!reader

word count: 935 words

summary: During the first heat spent together, Enji finally gets a taste of your slick. Also, reader has a quirk that gives her bunny attributes (ears and tail + behaviour)

warnings: nsfw (duh), lots of pet names, fingering (fem receiving from herself and m), praises and thigh riding! (if i missed anything, pls tell me!)

author's notes: I need to get this out there before it consumes my whole being, folks. This is basically the origin of pussywhipped!enji lmao. The idea wouldn't leave my mind ever since I revisited this fic by @nyxronomicon (great great great writer by the way, i devour all of their fics so check it out <3). Actually, that fic could be the continuity of this one if you don't think too hard. Anywayz, I'm rambling I know most of you just want the unhinged thoughts sooo hope you enjoy !!! <3 Again, any mispells or mistakes left are my fault ;-; (tried to proofread it but blergh boring)

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅─

The first time Enji had gotten a taste of your sweet ambrosia, it had been an accident. It happened during your first heat spent together. You were being such a sweet bunny now that he thinks about it, playing with yourself so he could rest after the rigorous day spent together for the first time.  

However, you couldn’t help yourself. Your fingers were no match to his thicker ones, you were twisting and flicking your wrist in vain, trying to find the right rhythm. Growing frustrated, whines turned higher pitched, trying all sorts of positions to ease the tight knot in your tummy.  

With all the noises leaving your mouth, it was inevitable for the flame hero to slowly arouse from slumber. Eyelids still heavy with sleep, he rubbed his eyes while sitting up against the headboard to pull you onto his lap, but Enji didn’t account for his pretty bunny to be so pent up that she just straddled his thigh and started riding it. 

Now, Enji was a strong man and his stamina had to be good to be Japan’s number one hero, but he was only a simple man at the end of it. So, when this simple man saw his good bunny desperate to rub her clit on his strong thigh, he couldn’t do anything but watch. Well watch and flex the muscle under her.  

“Fuck, baby, look at you being such a good bunny.” His dick was probably crying from all the action it had gotten, but fuck, it was still trying its best when the flame hero heard his bunny’s whines. “My pretty baby was trying to let me rest, huh love? Don’t worry about that next time. It’s all yours, my legs, -” He flexed his thigh once more for good measure. A whimper escaping your mouth at his words and at the added pressure, making the friction on your bundle of nerves so much better. “my fingers an-” He quickly shut his mouth when you grabbed his right hand and directed it near your lower puffy lips while continuing to ride him.  

“Enji, fuck Jiji, please please can I have your fingers. Please, they’re so much bigger and fuck- I- I just want them in me, baby.”  

Did Enji die and wake up in paradise? Here you were, your slick covering his upper leg, your mouth in a pretty pout, your pupils taking over your irises, lust painted all over your face, and you were begging for him to finger you. You were so good, waiting for his approval, for his ‘yes’ even if he could see tremors taking hold of your body from the frustration dancing in your bones.  

In awe of his luck, the number one hero just nodded in response to your pleas. His fingers pressed on your puffy lips when you stopped directing him. Of course, you were just waiting for him to finally easy the knot in your stomach, but your Jiji seemed to be in a lust haze thinking you were waiting for his fingers to be less dry. It didn’t matter that your slick was plenty enough already. Enji couldn’t feel, see nor think clearly.  

So, as Japan’s best hero, he executed the best course of action, sucking his fingers. You, on the other hand, were on the verge of tears, when you felt his fingers leave your wet cunt. Your frustration didn’t get the chance to be voiced out when you heard Enji’s groan.  

He couldn’t believe it. As his fingertips grazed his tastebuds, he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t had a taste beforehand. Your slick was coating his fingers, coating his tongue, mixing in with his saliva, dripping down his throat. He audibly groaned at the taste of yourself. He had to get more, he needed to have more. He licked every last drop of your juices before parting ways with his slick covered fingers.  

“Fuck, think you can give me more of that, bunny?” You just nodded your head at him, excited to have his fingers back to yourself now. “Yes, yes, yes, just- please please just make the pain go away, Jiji.” Your lover cooed at you as two of his thick fingers thrust in one stroke in your pussy, making you cry out from the relief. His bunny was chanting Thank you’s, love and lust dancing around every letter, syllable escaping your throat.   

He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on your ambrosia once more, but first he had to make you feel better. Had to see just how well you took him whether it be his cock, his fingers and fuck his tongue soon.  

It didn’t take much from the hero to make you cum, you were already on the edge of an orgasm, on the cusp of it from all your attempts earlier, you riding his thigh, and now his fingers. Finally, you felt the knot in your stomach untangling itself, coming loose. Incoherent words and noises graced Enji’s ears as he worked you through your orgasm. His eyes glancing from your face to the arousal leaking out of your lips to his fingers. 

The both of you knew that it wouldn’t take long before the pain would come back in your stomach, but before you could voice out anything, the number one spoke up. His eyes sparkling at the idea of drinking directly from you.  

“Fuck, bunny, think you can give me another one?”  

Suffice to say that that night, Enji Todoroki learnt a new skill, because who would you be to pass up that kind of service from your beloved? <3  

[love-toxin]

just read your latest billy fic and am now obsessed with the idea of billy babytrapping you and/or having a massive, unhinged breeding kink. in his mind you won't ever leave him if he gets you pregnant.

(please bear with my ramblings below)

billy obsessively tracking your cycle and going at it like rabbits when you're ovulating. sex that goes on for HOURS because he wants to get multiple loads inside of you, just to be sure. plugging you up afterward so all his cum stays inside. constantly telling you what a good parent you would be, and how beautiful your children would be because he's pretty, and you're pretty, so it just makes sense, right?

I really think he'd get so delusional about it. burying his face in your arousal and insisting he can tell you're fertile just by the smell/taste. bending down to whisper in your ear only to tell you how full and achey his balls are getting. leaving you little gifts but they're all pregnancy tests or baby clothes. forget whatever stage of a relationship or situationship you guys are in, he's starting a family with you. he'd get such an ecstatic glint in his eye when you finally tell him you're pregnant. don't get me started on the pregnant belly worship.

tl;dr if billy fucks me and I'm not sitting in a puddle of his cum afterwards, I don't want it‼️🗣

PRRRRRR!!!! yes. im into it. now u have to bear with MY ramblings

(cws: babytrapping, fem pronouns)

Feels like babytrapper Billy is an untapped gold mine--it's less that he wants a baby at first and mostly just that he wants control over you, but that switches up real fast when you actually get knocked up. When you actually wanna be sweet about it. Fussing about cribs and a nursery and having enough baby clothes, making him take you to the ultrasound appointments and actually getting a 'tude with him because he did this to you and now he's gonna have to deal with just as much as you have to carrying his baby.

But Billy ends up loving the shit out of it. He loves your attitude. He loves your mood swings. He loves your hormonal cravings and your tears when you throw up morning after morning. He loves holding your hair back and stuffing your bed full of pillows so you're comfortable, and he loves laying his head on your belly and hearing those little gurgles and feeling those little kicks from his baby.

At the same time, however, it makes him emotional. If this is how he feels before his baby is even here, then why would...how could his father ever treat him the way he does, and did? How could anybody do that to a kid? It makes him angry at himself for the way he was treated and the way he took that out on Max, too. He's got lots of apologies to make. Those experiences don't take up all his attention, though--he has a pretty partner to care for now, and having that to fill his time over bouncing from party to party and girl to girl just to feel something makes him unbelievably satisfied.

It honestly makes him glad that he never knocked anyone up accidentally leading up to when he met you. It had to be you, he knows that now. It had to be you that he coerced, begged, and fucked into submission to make you his, it had to be your womb that he wanted so badly to break and your pussy he wanted to risk going raw into. Wouldn't you just be the cutest with a baby, anyways? You're such a catch and you're so pretty. You'd make such adorable babies. It's obvious he never wanted to be one of those guys with a handful of baby mamas and kids he rarely sees; he wants you and your kids and that's it. It's official--you've hooked Hawkins' resident playboy into a dedicated partner and father, whether you wanted to or not.

If there's one thing he loves most about your pregnancy though, it's that he loves your neediness. He loves that something seems to click in you that makes you pine for the man whose seed you've sown, like there's an invisible connection between you two that pulls you both closer. It's like you're instinctually drawn to him and he hopes, god he hopes that continues after you've had the baby. He's ready to make love to a woman after she's had a child (after you've healed sufficiently, of course, he can wait) it's like that next stage of maturity for him. He can't wait to see how far you've come and how much you've sacrificed just to have his baby, and he can't wait to look you in the eyes and tell you he wants another. No, he doesn't want you to work off the baby weight first or fuss with your hair or your clothes to try and get back to looking like you were before. He wants you now. As you are. Raw. He's sick of those prissy party-girl snobs and their perfect bodies and their permed hair that they can't let get messed up. He wants the woman who stays up all night feeding his daughter and rolls her eyes at his flirting attempts in the morning. He's totally whipped, and even with those bags under your eyes and that tension headache behind his from the crying of his precious baby girl, he still wants another. And he's got ways of making sure that you do, too...after all, he got you into it the first time, right?

[ddollfface]

Ahhh! I just read ‘a little unhinged’ and I’m in love. It’s perfect. Is there a possibility that you could do the last one? Again thank you for doing my suggestion!

-🐏

𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

Trigger Warnings; implied!f!reader, unwanted touching, grody-gross behavior, sexual touching (unwanted), LoveSick!Athlete being a total ass, no sex scenes, kinda dark ig, no proof read btw (but the's just expected lol)

He was perfect. 

The teachers knew. Your friends knew. His teammates knew, and they all made sure that you knew it. No matter where you went, someone was always congratulating you on the relationship, blabbering on and on about how difficult it must’ve been to bag such a guy like him. Walking in the hall, you got far more comments on your dress, telling you that you must be taking his advice or how today must be his lucky day. Whenever you finished a class, your teachers made sure to add a little ‘Tell him, I said hi!’ to the greeting or farewell. And your friends, God, they wouldn’t let it up! 

All the conversations steered back to him, no matter what you guys were talking about! For some reason, all they wanted to know was him, him, him. You could be talking about… shopping, for example, and the conversation would somehow turn to him, even though he loathes shopping if it isn’t with you! One moment, you’d be rambling off about this new mall that you recently heard about some random girl, how it’s got all the new stores, but noooo, your friends just wanted to talk about how he modeled for a certain store there. Now, you were stuck listening to them gush about your boyfriend, who doesn’t even model, by the way! He told you, word-for-word, that he “hated touching the girl models ‘cause they don’t feel like you, mamas,” smooth like always…

His teammates, they’re… something, yeah that’s for sure. They don’t quite know when to shut up, or when to talk, frankly, they’re just creepy. There’s something about them that just throws you off. Throughout your relationship, you’ve always felt uncomfortable, and you’ve told him so, and he’s listened! He’s always made sure that they were a comfortable distance from you, never letting their lust-filled gazes strain for too long, making sure to set them straight. Usually, a stern glare would suffice, but he wasn’t afraid to give a beat down, never in front of you, of course. You were better than that, and like hell he’d ever let his baby see such a thing!

You knew what he did though, but it just made you trust him more, knowing that he had your back even though it was his teammates, the people he was closest to (rather than you). The fact that he was willing to beat someone to a bloody pulp for you clouded your vision, ignoring the fact that it was a bright, beading red flag that was practically blaring in your face! I mean… of course, it’s not the most practical thing to do, but at least his teammates weren’t perving on you anymore, right? 

Yeah, you should be grateful. 

After all, he is perfect. 

.

.

.

“No thank you.” 

You’d decline politely, a stiff smile perched on your lips. Your eyes don’t crinkle, but your brows do furrow, pupils dilating slightly as they flicker across the locker room, realizing the mistake you’ve just made. The way your heart jabs against your chest, thumping against your ribs in a heavy rhythm that screamed run, hide, anything that’d get you out of this situation, made your head feel dizzy and thoughts swirl with anything but cognizance. 

“Awwe, c’mon, sweets! You and the cap’ ain’t nothin’, yeah? He told us ‘bout your little freak out,” Cheekily grinning, he places air quotes around his words, and takes another step forward. A large palm rested on your shoulder, causing you to cringe, jerking your body away, bones creaking in a robotic motion as you just collided with another body. Your eyes snapped toward the other, your eyes meeting his hazel ones, watching as they clouded with lust and want. A want that’s been suppressed, denied-

“Oh! Hey Captain-” One flushed, immediately backing away at the sight of the brooding athlete, putting his hands up in defense with a sheepish smile. Letting out a breath, that you didn’t know you’d been holding in, you turned your body to face the entrance of the locker room, only to meet his back. He wasn’t even facing you. 

His broad back met your eyes, flickering across the toned muscle that stretched underneath his golden skin, the way the sweat glimmered and reflected against the light as he tugged his shirt over his body, huffing under his breath. He hadn’t even acknowledged anyone in the room, continuing as if no one was there. Though his dark eyes briefly met his vice-captain. The normal warning glance gone, replaced with one of aloofness, something that showed no emotional care, one that broke your heart. You caught it, and you caught the way the room seemed to shift from that of a stale, almost nervous atmosphere, to a eager and relief one. 

And just like that, you took a step back, hands on your bag as you were quick to make steps backward, desperate to leave, leave, leave. You need to leave, your conscience screamed at you, noticing how eyes seemed to shift onto your sweating figure. One would think that you’d been practicing with them with the thin layer that stuck to your skin, making your senses flash awake. 

“I’m going-” You choked out, surprised that your own vocals worked, almost gasping when a sweaty, bulging arm was slung over your shoulder, feeling the sweat stick to your neck as it pulled you closer. Lips parting as you pushed against the arms, nails digging into the skin, feeling the muscles and tendons flex. 

“Nahhh, I don’ think so, sweetheart. The cap’s given the okay, which means you’re all mine-” The arm slithered from your shoulder to your front, pulling your back to his chest, forcing his hand on your front. His large hand holding you against himself, fingers pressing against your clavicle and pinching the thin skin, chuckling under his breath. He hunched over you, his free hand trailing up your shirt, sweaty hands prodding and poking at your smooth skin. 

You almost gagged when his lips pressed against your ear, eyes flickering forward when footsteps approached, causing you to open your mouth, ready to scream. A painful gasp left your lips when his teeth sunk into your neck, lips suckling on your nape as his hand grabbed at your soft flesh, feeling up your curves. 

Thrashing in his grasp, you felt tears prod at your waterline, vision blurring as you called out to him, “Please-wait! Stop! Let go of me, you creep! Fuck off-!” You screamed, worried that no one was going to come. It settled, no one could hear you.

Your chest heaved as your jaw clenched, feeling your cheeks wet as tears dribbled down your puffy cheeks. Your hands swatted at the meaty arm around your waist, pinching and grasping at any skin you could get your hands on, scratching up his arm as others watched, dark chuckles leaving their lips at the sight. Looking up, your eyes met his, silently pleading with him as your lip wobbled. His eyes were empty as if he was dissociating, pushing back any thought that spread through his mind, replacing it with one thought: you asked for this. 

“Help me! I-” You called out his name, jabbing your elbow in the guy's gut, pushing with all your strength, ignoring the gleaming eyes that peered down at you. And as they closed in, a chest pressing you back into another chest, hands groping and touching you, leaving nothing unscathed. You screamed, pleading with apologies, anything that’d just get him to listen, to help you out of this, just as he did yesterday, a week ago, hell even a month ago! 

Though it was meek, a silent whisper of sorts, you heard it, and you heard it loud and clear. It was as if he’d yelled across the room, screaming his lungs out until his throat filled with bile and blood, his eyes gleaming into yours. But it wasn’t, it was nothing but a meer whisper, only meant for your ears only.

“You don’t need me, no?”

[magpod-confessions]

(look at me go, not asking anonymously for once lol)

“the web is underrated” “the buried is underrated” “the dark is the most underrated” 

yes. you are right, i agree. but they are all underrated. none of the fears get the attention they deserve.

-the dark and the end are almost completely forgotten about due to their perceived simplicity.

-the buried, the flesh, the hunt, etc are so unexplored, no one bothers to look any deeper into them.

-the desolation is not just fire, but no one ever tries to represent it some other way.

-don’t get me started on the whole spiral-distortion thing (perhaps i will make this a future confession bc oh boy do i have a lot to say).

with all of them people seem to be scared of diverging from the explicit canon representations.

no one seems to care about the fears anymore. THE fears. you know, the one thing that makes tma so special? i’ve lost count of the number of times i’ve seen someone say “after listening to tma i can never look at things the same. i always categorise them by the entities”

that’s all they are treated as, categories. perhaps this is an odd way to describe horrific manifestations of our deepest fears, but i think they are beautiful concepts. i could spend hours thinking about each one and the ways they bleed into one another, i probably have. 

yeah, at this point smirke’s 14 are old news, but there are always new angles to explore. we saw that in season 5 of tma, and we are seeing it now in tmagp (though the fears are of course different). why did we stop talking about that? (i wasn’t actually on tumblr when tma was happening so idk. maybe no one ever cared) 

talk about the fears, put your ideas for unconventional statements or avatar or whatever out there, there’s an audience (me at least). say stuff about how different fears crossover, or some new aspect of one. “but surely people would have already said this at some point” respectfully, i don’t give a shit. if i come across mutliple posts analysing a similar aspect of the vast, i’m going to be fucking overjoyed. because much of the fears is up to intepretation, they have slightly different meanings to different people, so every single person’s interpretation adds value and adds something unique. i see a little of this, but not enough.

we should keep discussing the fears. i don’t know why we ever stopped.

(sorry this is so long and rambling, i hope you can see the points i’m trying to make.)

🗣️ i’d love to hear your thoughts on this

Literally this. Agree with all of it

Some things:

The Desolation can be natural disasters, including floods, storms and earthquakes. Water is just as destructive as fire

The Dark can be not knowing something. It overlaps with the eye yes, but it still counts

The Corruption is shown to be a response to loneliness, not the opposite of it. Its being so lonely you seek out community, no matter how dangerous it may be. Every single corruption statement has references to loneliness

The Spiral says its a liar, but its never done that, only changing your perception of reality to make what it says true. It is delusion not manipulation

The Slaughter is never portrayed outside of war, which is strange because sheer unhinged violence has so much variety

[sarawritestories]

DarkSide of Prythian WIP

Here are some quotes from some of the requests for the Darkside of Prythian "series" I'm working on! Thank you all who submitted a request, my sweet, unhinged little Readers 🤭 I'm going to try to post one of these request once maybe twice a week some of these I imagine are going to be Loooooonnnng so bear with me as I work through them! Alright, enough rambling below the cut is the goods! These are subject to change once I get deep into writing but a treat none the less!

Content warning: Our leading ladies are all tied down and / or silenced in some capacity In these sneak peeks. There is mentions of slipping drugs in food and alluding to mind control.

I Can See You

Stalker Az X Fem Reader

You were the most beautiful creature the shadowsinger had ever seen. Even with tears sliding down your face; your panties stuffed in your mouth held in place by a shadow wrapped around your head. The Spymaster wouldn't want to disturb your neighbors after all. That wouldn't be Polite.

And Azriel was always polite.

You Belong To Me

Dark Cassian X Mated Fem Reader

You tugged at the bonds, keeping you in the chair when rough calloused hands gripped your cheeks tightly, "You are my mate, You belong to me." You whimpered as he placed a chaste kiss on your lips, "By the end of the week, you will accept the bond." He whispered as he released his grip on your face and scooped up a bite of food with a fork. You pressed your lips together, not wanting to accept any food from the general. "You need to eat," he tried to reason. You shook your head, and frustration coated the male's features as he quickly pinched your nose. "Open." He commands with a lethal calm that caused a shiver down your spine that you did what he asked. Not wasting a second, he placed the utensil in your mouth and began to feed you.

The food was delicious. You hated to deny it, but you were so hungry you didn't think twice about whether your fated mate laced it with anything.

To Be Mine...Forever

Dark Azriel X Reader (Rhys' Sister)

Azriel smiled at you, his eyes had a dangerous look to them as his hand grazed down the lace of your gown. Your wedding gown,"You are a vision, in white, my love. I'm sure the heir of Autumn would have loved you in it." You cried out muffled as he had wrapped your veil through your teeth, not wanting to hear your protests. The chains on your wrist rattled as you tried to lunge for him. He gripped your face, "Don't be a brat, I'm freeing you from the lowley confines of the Autimn court. You were never meant to be there. To be with him." He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead as your eyes brimmed with tears not finding comfort by his touch, "You were meant to be mine... Forever." He pulls the veil from your lips only to seal his lips to yours.

My Best Friends Girl

Dark Rhysand X Azriel's Mate (fem Reader)

A hand clamped over your mouth, jolting you awake. Your eyes met familiar violet ones as Rhysand pressed a finger to his own lips. "Shhh shh shh, It's only me, baby." He whispered, and your heart rate slowed to a normal pace. Your eyes shifted over to the Illyrian beside you. Azriel still sounded asleep in your bed, though his shadows were swirling, trying to wake him up. "Look at me, Pretty girl." Your eyes moved back to your high lord, his hand still around your mouth. "I'm going to take you away from here. Would you like that?" Would you like that? Your body screamed that it was wrong? Though your mind kept repeating:

Stay with the High Lord he will keep you safe.

Rhys, knowing your pretty little head was heavy nodded it for you with the hand pressing down on your lips, accepting his offer to steal you away, to free you. To keep you safe.

SongBird

Modern Mafia AU Cassian X Fem Reader

Cassian's men strapped you to the leather chair, and you struggled to no avail as the leather straps cinched your skin to the chair. The man had a smug look on his face as he sat at the stool a sucker in his mouth, a tattoo gun in his gloved hand. Your breathing became labored. "What are you going to do with that?" You asked.

He pulled the candy out of his mouth and smiled, "Claiming what's mine, My sweet Songbird." You opened your mouth to protest, but instead, the sweet taste of cherry hit your tongue as Cassian shoved the sucker he was eating in your mouth. You instantly closed your mouth on the candy as the sound of the machine rang through the room, and he began tattooing your outer thigh.

Not caring that he was writing, "Property of Cassian," permanently on your skin, you simply hummed thinking about your love for cherry flavored things.

[lythevoidwitch]

I am a simple woman.

If I see SVSSS content, I will like, I will follow, and I will open another tab to read every fanfiction recommendation. (Even though I shouldn't with my 64 open tabs right now. 27 of which are ongoing ff as I patiently wait for more chapters to be released.)

That's not all though.

I'm considering getting back into writing some fanfiction for my current addiction. I have a few ideas, but I would love to hear your favorite ship, crackship, headcanons and so forth!

I'm heavily debating on a few fic ideas:

SY and SJ shenanigans : Disciples? Estranged Siblings? (LBH Sobbing in the bg)

SY as a rogue cultivator, successfully avoiding LBH for most of the plot. (Switch between LBH and SY pov?)

Modern SVSSS, College!! (SJ the prettiest and pettiest of college professors, he doesn't get paid enough for this. Why is his student flirting with him? Why is his student flirting with his brother? SJ might consider homicide as justifiable.)

Modern SVSSS, SY and SQH wake up from their strange dream. Find out Cucumber and Airplane know each other in rl. Ensue chaotic best friend behavior. (In the bg cue, MBJ and LBH handling this with nothing but poise and grace. I'm lying. They're doing the exact opposite. Don't worry, I'm not a monster. LBH and MBJ find their wives, eventually, probably.)

Modern Cultivators! SY and SJ didn't think they would ever run into an actual demon, demons are rare these days. They often face ghosts and spirits. Cue SY accidently waking up a good old Blackened/Sealed Lou Bing-ge. Cue (dun dun duhhh) chaos.

Demon SY? Cultivator SY? Dunno yet, SY in the Abyss. (I read an unfinished fic about SY in the abyss, and I'm obsessed with the idea of SY just absolutely trying to get LBG to speedrun the Abyss, and LBG deciding "Nuh. I'm staying here, with you". I was also considering entire Abyss ancient civilizations because I'm unhinged, and the idea of what used to be sprawling demonic kingdoms in the abyss is beautiful.)

Have you ever accidently married the emperor of the 3 realms? SY did. Now, SJ has to ask YQ for help to save his brother. (Subsequently: You ever accidently end up with a husband? LBG was surprised, too, but he has a system, a way these things work. Just because SY is a man doesn't change anything. LBH now has to make sure his frail husband doesn't die and doesn't get kidnapped by pesky cultivators.) Three povs???? SJ (trying to save his brother and getting pettier by the minute), LBG (thwarting SJ's plans, spying on his husband, general court affiar), SY (fangirling over everything, getting himself into trouble, falling into every wife plot under the sun).

These are just some ideas, some of my favorites that I've been clinging to. Free game, take em, write em if you want. The more fanfiction and content we have, the better!

I've rambled. Oh god. Lemme know your favorite, I'll probably boost it to the front of my list.

[trafficblr-confessions]

I don't like skyblings too much, however that doesn't mean I don't like family headcanons/dynamics

Actually im a sucker for family dynamics, me and my sister both are, and love projecting on silly cubitos a lot (funny cause in this specific duo our genders are swapped)

So I present to you: Snowblings propaganda

Its Scar and Pearl!

First of all they kinda look alike, to the point I've mixed them up in fanart before, which sounds dumb but I'm so fr like actually its happened and I find that funny.

Second, I just love their duo on DL, I lowkey wished they became chosen soulmates, I mean theyre kinda paralels? But on opposite senses?? My sister knew the proper term for this. Like- Pearl got abandoned by her soulmate, and they parted ways completely, resenting eachother. Meanwhile, Scar got cheated on, but even after the betrayal and all that he stayed with Grian and didn't yknow take actual revenge like Pearl did constantly to Scott..

Headcanon section:

Also I love that they seem like- So I think if they were actually related possibly before the series and all, maybe got separated and their memories erased by the watchers? But still met again and took eachother as found family, not knowing the truth. Also, likewise to my online sis and I, I feel like Scar is older in actual age but when you see them interact its like Pearl is the older one.

Also!! Wolf and cat duo, I think thats silly.

And I think possibly they could've hang out more even if we dont see it on camera, trust... like sitting on powdered snow at night as they talk (its mostly Pearl rambling/venting/plotting chaos and Scar being supportive, possibly also making sure she doesn't freeze to death)

Another plus! Scar was a wizard on LL while Pearl got called the witch of DL! And both got villanised a lot on the seasons they won... and they both spent their whole seasons mostly alone, with a small team up at the end...

Pearl was all alone in DL and Scar helped her and kept her company when he could, even if she was unhinged and probably insisted he got revenge aswell. Scar was all alone for most of SL and Pearl still offered him a family in the end... she wanted one of her mounders to win... and he was the last one left, he *was* an actual mounder even if just for one episode, cause she could've helped Gem win, also her best friend (who I see as found cousins, also cause of my relationship with an online cousin), but she wanted her mounders to win, and thats what Scar was, not only that, Scar was her brother, her family.

Have you also considered that Scar, Pearl and Bdubs could make the best found sibling trio ever?

I just think they're the best ever, comfort duo fr..

(A bit Pluto Scar propaganda too, shot out to my genius lil sis for the arguments) Pluto has 5 moons, Scar killed 6 ppl in the finale, but the last one was Pearl who IS the moon. Except to Scar she's more than just another moon, Pearl, who wanted him to win, who offered him a place to belong to, a family, when he had no one, even if it was short lived, Pearl who understood his loneliness, a past winner who very well understood what its like to be the villain of the server, his best friend, his ally, his family.. and the last person he saw before that so called victory.

Plus! Funny quote between my sister and I that sounds pretty DL Snowblings coded:

- "wishing for the best for you and worst for them /j" (sister/scar) - "you see? this is what siblings are for! we pray on other people's downfall… but for good reasons.." (me/pearl)

Thats all tumblr, thank you ^^

.

[lumineary-arts]

Saw you ask about ppls AUs uh

Most of mine, admittingly, don't have designs yet. At least not drawn ones. Oops!!

But I can like?? Still ramble ig?

I also have a swap AU! I haven't posted a lot ab it, but it's called Solver Shift.

In it I put Sam in Cyns place. So the DDs have pink accents (wasn't comfortable using Doll and making them red, despite barely drawing DD armbands anyways - personally at least)

Some places I'm still unsure about, like idk whether Khan and Nori should be direct swaps with Ron & Tessa or should be put in Tessas parents position. If I go the latter idk who to put in Tessas place lol.

Ron and Tessa weren't actually ever romantically involved. They were just best friends, and were like "well we live together, we both kinda wanna know what having kids is like. So let's raise one together"; insert Nuke (N) being built. Tess survived a few years into his life, they built Cyn and then yada yada you know the story - dead mom

If it wasn't obvious by Ns name, the rail gun gets replaced by explosives. Thank Cyn for that, it was her idea. (They both take canonverse Uzi her engineering skills, but Cyn takes the more unhinged aspect of the personality.) - Nuke was like "we gotta do something about the DDs but idk what!" And Cyn, sparkly eyed and all, was like "Let's blow them up!"

I need to figure out some episode stand ins seeing as Cyn is younger but still sticks to N like glue. Beau takes Dolls place, they'd be Similar in age to Cyn (aka I gotta give them a body design F)

Oh also, as for befriending the DDs -- whilst Ep1 would run similar to canon; after that Thad/T would bond faster with the siblings than Uzi/Z bc they keep their canonverse personalities mostly!! So that's a reverse. Also T wouldnt want to kill the Prom unlike V, he just genuinely wants to make friends 😭

Don't ask me why Beau is at the prom, being younger and all. Might just make it an all years general prom rather than just the graduating class.

Next AU yay

Blood & Bats is a Vampire/Human AU! DDS and Solver Drones are vampires, you get the gyst!

N & Cyn are bio siblings, got separated bc of a divorce. Eventually both were separately taken away for shitty parenting, one of which caused Cyn to get vampirism one way or another. She also has DID/OSDD1 in this AU, the Solver conciousness isn't an evil entity here, just s Persecutor under the definition of "Misguided Protector who hurts as a form of protection" -- they're basically just a terrified vampire kid who thinks they're a danger and thinks isolation is the only way to keep their lived ones safe.

At some point the Elliots adopt N, later Cyn too. They also have previously adopted V and J. As time goes on, the alphabet trio one by one get turned by Cyn/Solver but they catch her after that so Tessa never is turned.

Uzi is basically a half vampire. Her mom was one, her dad wasn't. I don't remember the details atm, but I assume I've posted them somewhere in the tag on my account, but iirc Khan killed Nori in a moment of shock and survival instinct when finding out. Uzi doesn't know this. She finds out later after being turned herself (on accident!) - either through N or Cyn. Might do N to draw a parallel to the miscommunication between ep 2 and 3. Bc yeah Uzi would assume it's on purpose and he broke a promise.

Once they fix things, she finds out about her dad killing her mom and she runs away from home, terrified he might kill her too -- she crashes at the siblings place OR Thads place. I'm not sure yet. Both have pros and cons.

Khan cant easily access the manor, needs to be at an event for it. But the parents would want Uzi OUT asap. On Thads end; Teacher (Thad and Lizzy are either step or half siblings idk yet) and Ron (uncle, moved in after his sister died to help with the kids!) Would not let Khan take Uzi home sending as they see her terrified. They don't know what happened. But Khan has easier access bc he's friends with Teacher and obviously Lizzy is there which Uzi isn't thrilled about.

That's as far as I can remember the storyline -- there would still be parallels to some episodes! Ep 4 would still happen! Just some would survive! Rebecca would be found by one of the alphabet trio and turned to save her life. She's wheelchair bound after that. Sam survives but everyone thinks he got too high and doesn't believe him when he talks rambling about Uzis vampire form (Becca keeps it secret bc like if she says something it by extension endangers the other vampires in the school which now includes herself)

Intertwined/Inteetwinjng Codes (Me when I keep going back and forth between both titles) is a next gen AU thing. It started off as a joke,,, oh well

Kids.

These little shits are twins, they started this whole rabbithole. They would boot up sometime after Ep 4.

Later on their parents would want to program another kid & adopt one. Invert Annika and Zagi, except unexpected thing happened and they now have two babies to upload. Insert Raven.

Annika is currently undergoing redesign, ignore how basic she looks compared to her siblings lol.

As for the last 2 kids -- they didn't WANT any more, but when being sent to another colony they run into this toddler with a baby, who are being attacked by other DDs so they step in. Whilst they argue with N, Uzi gets the kids to safety. They were gonna keep the kids at their place for that night but Olicia did NOT want to sleep in the same place as a DD & a ton of half DDs -- so Thad gets called at 3am 😭 hes the cool uncle to their kids so yk

Next day it turns out adoption wing is full, so the siblings get passed around Thad, Uzis dad and Nuzi a ton (their own colony got killed so they cant go back there) until Ray gets attached to Nuzi, and you shouldn't separate a baby from its bonded adults. Seeing as he already lost the code related parents, they didn't want to risk further hurting his programming. So the siblings were basically accidentally adopted by Nuzi, despite Olivia not being happy about it at first. But she didn't want to separate from Ray.

That's mostly that. Theres not too much lore tbh. Just a silly half joke AU.

Also I have 6 siblings IRL so I tend to like give my ship kids many siblings 😭 so ignore that fact lol, just projecting

Then theres like 3 more Cyn centric AUs.

2 are pretty small.

DD!Cyn AU that has no name yet is just the AS uploaded a copy of Cyn/the Base Drones conciousness into a DD body and kept her with the trio. That'll lead to major Identity crisis once Cyn realizes technically she's a clone and her memories aren't *hers*. Aside from that: Cyn and J constantly have beef bc of J abusing N, Cyn tries to get her to stop but just faces verbal abuse herself in return :(

Shes also pretty distrusting of Uzi at first bc like!! Nobody except Cyn ever spent time with N!! That's a Drone getting close to her big brother which possibly could hurt him in the long run if she turns out to be like the other teammates!! (She eventually warms up to her)

Then there is Trapped/Hivemind AU. Literally just Cyn trapped in the hivemind, unable to reach her body for control. She can HEAR the other Solver Drones and the DDs, as they're all part of the hivemind. But she can't communicate with them. No matter how hard she tries.

Especially when she hears N she will call out to him but not get a response

So shes probably on the brink of losing it

Then there is "Dormant" Absolute Solver

Originally it was gonna be "The AS lost interest in Cyn as a host" and ig it still kind of is correct-? I need to go back and forth between certain aspects lol

But long story short, Cyn now got a separate body from the AS, doesn't know it killed Tessa & comes to C9 with J & "Tessa". The AS just brought her as a tool to manipulate N with, but she doesn't know that. Cyn joins the group from ep 6 onwards. Yay more PTSD for the child I guess :)

I havent written out ep 6 yet but I think she'd be with N & "Tessa" for that part.

Ep 7 she ends up on the side of the rocks with Uzi, and walks at a distance after being told to basically F off bc Uzi doesn't trust her now but Cyn is scared to be alone. Uzi notices Cyn isn't okay tho.

(Varian tangled reference yay)

Might I add that seeing Uzis wings and tail in ep 6 would have majorly triggered Cyns PTSD but shes unaware of why she feels so scared. So seeing Uzis tail the whole time definitely adds onto the stress =)

During the fight Uzi would reach out to Cyn through the hivemind, both girls calling out to N through Cyns body. The AS doesn't like that and forcefully shuts Cyn down. It has admin rights over her after all.

By the time Cyn wakes up, the AS is grabbing her to blackmail N after just having eaten Doll. Talking about how he wouldnt want to hurt his baby sister (hes aiming his laser cannon at the AS for context). Then it gets bored, drops Cyn and the regular program ensures. Except Cyn took Tessas gun and shoots herself free from the tentacles and runs to the pit after seeing Nuzi be pulled in. Whilst shes there trying to figure out how to get them back up (seeing as she cant use her Solver on them, or at least not Uzi. The show us so unclear if it works on DDs or not) the scene goes on.

I'm not sure yet who Cyn will stick with, probably N bc I've more ideas. BUT also I'm waiting for episode 8 to decide that for sure. Same with the ending. I got multiple bad ending ideas and also a good ending :) ep 8 will determine which one will be canon :)

Oh yeah Cyn lol -- both new and old ref bc of the oil canister I didn't draw in the new one yet. She still has it as you can see by the oil tubes!

Also the Good!Ending DAS!N would run a Daycare post canon. IC!N also runs one. I just like having N work with kids.

Most of these (I think all except DD & Trappsd Cyn) are tagged on my account probably with some more info

Idk if the tags will show up tho bc they don't always for me when searching for them :(

My pinned post has the tags listed I think

I think that was all of them hm (istg if I forgot one 💀)

OKAY THIS ONE'S SUPER IN DEPTH I'M HEAVILY INTRIGUED. MULTIPLE AU'S DUDE!! I LOVE IT, KEEP EM COMING. Loving the ideas behind the swap AU. Putting Sam in Cyn's place is unique, I hadn't heard anyone do that before!! Also the thing about using pink is fair, I did use red but I didn't keep that in mind! A vampire AU's extremely fitting for Murder Drones, being a substitute for the Solver/Disassembly model. Since ep. 4 is my favorite, I love the fact it'd still play out here. Also I must say I REALLY like the next gen AU designs??? I actually kinda wish we saw more next gen stuff, or maybe I'm just not looking in the right places. Either way I very specifically love Rexim and Raven's designs, I think the color choices are really speaking to me. ALSO ALL THE CYN FANS ARE GONNA BE EATING UP THE CYN-CENTRIC AU'S. But it seems like the poor girl could never catch a break. WONDERFUL WORK ALL AROUND!!

[kit04kat]

Ranking the batfamily most to least likely to become a supervillian. (Plus all my ramblings about why I put who where [disclaimer, i have not read the comics due to me not having that kind of money]) I started thinking about this while reading a fanfiction where Dick, Jason and Tim were taken in by villians instead of Batman and it got me thinking. Anyways, let's get to the rankings.

1: Tim Drake. Starting off strong with our resident boy-genius with stalker tendencies. This may shock some of you, but I look at this human disaster and see a plethora of supervillian potential. You take away this man's adult supervision and the world may never be the same. What was happening with the league of assassins? And the fact that he tried to clone his best friend out of grief? Also I feel like we all skimmed over the fake uncle shenanigans too quickly. I once saw someone say something like Tim's moral code is copy-pasted off a house rules sticky note on the fridge and I agree.

2: Jason Todd. Seriously, we all saw this coming. Now, you might ask me, "but Kat, why is Jason at number 2? Didn't Red Hood already do the villian thing?" And to that I say, Ha! I am ranking them on supervillianiousness(???) Jason had his whole revenge plot and crime lord thing in Gotham but after that was done, he kinda settled out a little bit. So no, I don't think Jason has ever been a supervillian, just a villian, and after that he was more like an antihero/vigilante. That being said, I don't think he is incapable of being a supervillian, which is why he is number 2.

3: Stephanie Brown. Ok, I'm gonna be honest, I was really wavering on the order of the people in the middle. Also, I'm not gonna claim to know a whole lot about the adventures Steph has been through. That being said, I feel like she is just a tad bit more unhinged than the rest of the people in the middle, and therefore more likely to go insane. And if she had the proper motivation, she could totally be a badass supervillian. (Kind of reminds me of Jason in that way)

4: Damian Wayne. Alright, here's the thing. A lot of Damian's character development has been about him overcoming his heritage and learning that the things he learned with the league of assassins were bad. That being said, I don't think he will ever leave behind those ideologies as thoroughly as Cass and Bruce did. I think he sees the world in a lot more shades of grey than they ever will, and because of that, I've decided to put him forth on our list.

5: Barbara Gordon. I'm putting Oracle right smack dab in the middle. Not because I couldn't figure out where to put her, but because that's where she belongs. Listen, do I think she would ever become a supervillian? No, not really. However, if for some reason she had to become a supervillian, she'd be able to do it. If she ever turned to the dark side, it would be completely thought out. Calculated. And my girl doesn't do anything half-assed.

6: Duke Thomas. Now, Imma be honest, I don't know a whole lot about Duke, and I didn't really know where the best place to put his would be on this lineup. I put him in 6th cause I don't think he'd turn into a supervillian but he's more likely than the last three. He probably deserves to go further up the list, but oh well.

7: Bruce Wayne. I know some people will probably say he should be further up the list, but here is my reasoning. Batman's whole kinda thing is that he's always toeing the line. He's doesn't kill because he knows he wouldn't be able to stop. He is Darkness, Vengeance, the night, all that stuff. (It's why Batman needs a Robin) If he broke, he'd be broken. I don't think he'd be able to come back from that (I also disagree with myself a bit, cause there's no way his kill count is 0. I mean, he's been beating people up at night instead of therapy for decades) Anyways, that being said, man is stubborn and has been doing this vigilante stuff for a longggg time. I simply don't think he's gonna turn.

8: Dick Grayson. We are getting towards the bottom of the list here, to the people I think are least likely to become a supervillian. Dick has been through so much. With Renegade, Red X, Spiral, whatever was up with Ric, he took up the cowel and became Batman when Bruce was gone (which is something he never wanted to do), he's had so many of his friends die, family die, and that's not even all! He's been through a lot, but he's also the light to batman's dark. He's been through all that and still chooses to be good. There's no way he's ever becoming a supervillian (even if it is a very interesting plot in fanfiction)

9: Cassandra Cain. Last but certainly not least, Cass. I personally think she is the least likely to become a supervillian. She was raised as a weapon and taught to kill, but she has completely overcome that. She won't kill at all, much like Bruce, but she's also more emotionally sound. Her morals are strict, and she doesn't have to fight with herself to keep them. I love her so much, truly one of the best of us.

I'm gonna put Alfred as a honorable mention. He doesn't get to go on the list cause honestly, if he ever became a villian, it's over. He's have the world in his clutches before the week is over. Gotta respect him for having the patience of a saint.

This was so long! Anyways, feel free to add to this or tell me how you would rank them differently!!

[aceinacloset]

I'm back with more Circus Baby headcanons, mostly ‘cause I had bad art block right now, and I've felt like crap lately.

The hyperfixation also returned with a vengeance.

A lot of these headcanons apply to !FNAF SL REDUX!

(Ft. The funtimes, elizabeth, and scrap baby headcanons for seasoning)

see under the cut for the headcanons

Some Circus Baby specific headcanons to start us off

She has a very soothing voice at times, and this voice has a tendency to put some to sleep. She was having a conversation with Liz once and rambled on to a point that Liz fell asleep just listening to CB talk.

Her birthday cake sent has long since faded, but there is still a hint if you get close enough to her. You can especially smell it if you get a hug from her.

Circus Baby never stands up straight, she Is always usually angled down in an attempt to be less intimidating. With kids, she'll get on her knees or on one knee

She is so stubborn that she will try every possible scenario before even daring to conceive the idea of asking for help.

Circus Baby can not laugh. She just can't. She's tried, and she just can’t. So, to compensate for this, she will play audio of children's laughter to simulate laughter. It comes off more creepy than she intends to.

Here's some headcanons specific with Elizabeth or about her

Circus Baby refuses to let Elizabeth apologize to her, ‘oh you did something wrong. No, don't apologize to me. You shouldn't have done that, but- DON'T apologize to ME’

Elizabeth loves exploring the facility, specifically to find other exits to the ‘world up above’. She will always report back to CB with anything she finds. It's always like a proud child presenting it to their parents.

Elizabeth and the bidybabs are the sibling dynamic™ constantly getting into trouble, doing stupid things, and just being straight up menaces. The bidybabs would also be the first funtimes besides Baby to be able to see Elizabeth. This would be followed close behind by Bon-Bon and the minireenas.

Elizabeth has a dissociative disorder and has a tendency to disconnect from the world sometimes.

When Circus Baby sleeps and Liz needs to get her attention about something, she'll jump up and tug on one of her pigtails. She's not very heavy, but it's enough weight to wake Baby up.

Scrap baby headcanons time!

Scrap baby is very sassy and sarcastic and has a tendency to have bickering banter with Elizabeth

Scrap baby was put back together though what was left of her body, Elizabeth's remnant seething with rage, and duct tape.

Elizabeth and Scrap Baby did nothing but silly shenanigans for those 30 years before Fnaf 6. One year, they pretended to be a Halloween animatronic and scared kids

Scrap baby is not as stubborn as Circus Baby was and listens to others more (by others, I mean Liz)

Ballora Headcanons to wrap it up

Ballora hates most of the staff, so she is the least co-operative, like she's tried to kill staff more than once.

Ballora is super sound sensitive and can get easily irritated by noise of any kind, especially if it disturbs her while she's dancing.

Ballora can be quite tempered, like you can really tell when she's angry.

Give her a hug. She needs it.

A child called her mom once, she never recovered.

Ballora is built like a contortionist. Due to this, she has freaked out so many kids and staff doing many different poses.

Ballora, when it comes to emotions, is hard to read. She doesn't seem to emote, but in reality, she feels a lot of things, all to a point that it's hard for her to register them.

Ballora comforts herself and the minireenas with her music box.

She's just a little unhinged, dare I say a little bit silly.

Ballora is so conflicted towards CB. Sometimes, she is happy to see her, and she understands her, and other times, she wants to beat the ever loving shit out of her.

Ballora is torn on Freddy, and it's mostly ‘cause their personalities clash,' but since Funtime Freddy hides out in the breaker room so much, they both have kinda become unintentional roommates.

Foxy and Ballora are gossiping Besties, that's it. That's their dynamic.

Ballora is very aware of Elizabeth and interacts with her on a regular basis. For a long while, CB would be unaware of Balloras' awareness.

Not immediately getting back into fnaf content, this was just sitting on my phone for too long

[dogbunni]

[begins coughing like a cat about to throw up a furball] [spits up several nendo headcanons and then looks at u proudly]

-nendo collects hot wheels. I have no justification beyond this except that I also collect hot wheels and I think we'd have that in common. if he was real I would take nendo to a toy shop to look at all the hot wheels. just stand there and observe them for an uncomfortably long time. my friends aren't deeply autistic enough to do this with me so I can never observe the little cars for long enough before making a purchase :(

-nendo trans ally #1

-nendo has no idea what his sexuality is but not in a confused/questioning way, in a "I have never thought about it longer than 1 second" way. he likes who he likes and has no thoughts beyond that. he is label-less in a [shrugs shoulders] way. (saiki is also label-less but in a "fuck you" kind of way)

-nendo loves rollercoasters and watches weird essay length youtube videos about theme parks and animatronics. its a hobby that deeply disturbs everyone around him bc this guy cannot do basic math but he can and will channel the spirit of akechi rambling about defunct animatronics. sometimes he shows saiki pictures of animatronics in late stages of decay in horrible pitch black nightmare settings and saiki reacts as if nendo has placed a live cockroach in his lap.

-he has a condiment problem. steals sauce packets from restaurants with diagnosable compulsion.

-he doesn't Get memes. everyone has tried and failed to show nendo a meme. it's like trying to show your mother a funny picture and she holds the phone as far away from her face as she can and then stares at it for way too long before silently handing it back. he just doesn't Get It.

-hes like, really good at making memes though. he will just absently turn a phrase or take an image so absurd that everyone is still saying and reposting and reacting with it years down the line. he has no idea that he has this power

-he feeds stray cats and makes little shelters for them outdoors <3

-nendo and kaido roleplay together sometimes. I'm talking like, warrior cats roleplay. sometimes dark reunion but kaido gets pissy if nendo messes up The Lore. nendo calls it "playing pretend" bc he has no concept of cringe culture and kaido dies inside every time

-he manages to forget his own birthday. every year. saiki remembers though, and it's the one and only day he will ask if nendo wants to get ramen with him, instead of the other way around. it gets to the point that saiki asks if nendo wants ramen, and he says "what, is it my birthday ahaha" and saiki is just like. you goddamn idiot. good grief.

-last time I did one of these I said that nendo loves cute things like sanrio plushies and holds them so gently. well I see that and I am correct, but I raise you nendo thinking that SAIKI is the cutest thing he's ever seen. something about the pink hair and glasses and the little limiter bubbles on his head and his purple eyes and little frowny eyebrows- nendo wants to. hold gently. sometimes he just grabs saiki by the shoulders and stares at him blank in the face and saiki is like [nervously] "what the fuck? what the fuck????"

-he and aiura actually get along weirdly well. they're unhinged in similar flavours and it gets saiki's blood pressure up. he tries at all costs to keep them away from each other. their singular brain cells cancel each other out on sight.

-akechi makes nendo's brain hurt a little. he just can't process all of akechi's akechi-ness and it makes him feel dumb. he's fine with being dumb most of the time but akechi just makes him feel a little self conscious for some reason. (definitely not because he's jealous that akechi was friends with saiki first)

-he still likes the funny lil guy though. akechi's the only one who will enthuse with him about rollercoasters and he values those talks. so much.

-toritsuka is afraid of nendo for some reason. no one is sure why but nendo LOVES it. he's always trying to jump out and scare him. saiki supports nendo in this endeavour ardently. toritsuka suffers.

-nendo falls down the weirdest tiktok rabbit holes. it got so bad once that they got teruhashi to distract him while kuboyasu lifted his phone and deleted the app off of it. it took nendo several months to realise he could redownload it.

[bluginkgo]

On today's Ginkgo rambles, we have

what is going on with Tessa and why I find her very suspicious.

Spoilers, duh

The main thing that glares at me is how she interacts between the team and what she says. Or, more specifically, how inconsistent she is with the information she gives us. When we first see her, she says:

"Her [Cyn] last known act was siccing you lot on human exo-planets."

N: "But why?"

J: "That's what we're trying to figure out, bozo."

And-

"If she [Cyn] wants these labs. We burn them down!"

But later, she switches it up.

"When we get to the lab and find that list..."

Why was there a switch? She went from "we are burning this sh*t down!" To "I actually need the labs to get the list of drones that are infected."

So what gives?

The only thing I can see is J's presence. It's strange too isn't it? Tessa specifically told J to stay back and mind her ship. Illiciting this weird pause in the trio.

The entire time in N's memories/flashback, it's shown that J follows Tessa all over. Granted, N's memories are a bit of a shaky land to base anything off of. Many of the things that happened in N's memories did not actually happen in real life. More specifically, the gala massacre happened, yes. But N, V, Tessa, and J most likely did not fight eldrich Cyn like in Episode 5, Home. Given that we have nothing else, we can at least infer that J and Tessa are pretty close friends- specifically taking the scene when Tessa asks J to act as a "ripping royal stud." J, who we have seen to be very strict, showed concern for Tessa's hand injury (which is another thing I'll touch on).

With all this in mind, why would Tessa do that? They've been together ever since the first clip of then in episode 3, The Prommening. Why would Tessa forgo the extra security that J provides? Supposedly, Tessa knew that N and V have forgotten about her due to the CYN administration program. We see this from when Tessa first interacts with them,

"N! You remember- *cough cough*" It seems that she knew that N and V, to some degree, do not remember her or working for her as butler and maid. That detail would put her at a risk, wouldn't it? N and V are almost like strangers, not to mention Uzi bit her the second she got close enough. Having J with her would be safer for her. Instead, she tells J to mind her ship.

Now, there are a couple of things that I could think of.

1. J is a liability somehow. This is the more insane and unhinged idea, therefore has more holes. But basically, the thought is that the absolute solver somehow has a stronger hold on J and is using her to gather data on Tessa's movements. Tessa might have realized that the corrupted core with ths absolute solver in J is a liability to what Tessa is actually trying to do. Therefore, she says "we burn the labs!" When J is there, but when she's gone Tessa switches to her true goal which is "get the list." There is a glaring hole here tho. How would Tessa know that the corrupted cores in N and V do not have a strong hold on them? Maybe the hint to her was that N remembered her. But J hasn't shown signs that she doesn't remember Tessa either. But the counter to that could be that J views Tessa as a JcJenson technician, therefore Tessa is already supposed to have that level of respect/loyalty.

2. J is backup. This would make more sense. We can't have the entire gang going down into the labs, and not have someone as backup in case things go south. They'll need someone to either drag them out or finish the job of burning the labs down if the gang isn't successful.

3. Tessa herself is what's weird. J, N, and V are all acting like themselves, the only person that we've seen to have a change in their personality is Tessa. Maybe Tessa is posessed with something something, more unhinged idea rant. But you get the idea. Of course, no one can go through seeing your parents and friends killed, and then kinda causing the fall of the entire planet earth and come out with the same personality as you had originally. So maybe, she simply matured rapidly, and that gave her the more cold side we often see throughout Episode 6, Dead End.

I'm mostly very suspicious of Tessa because V was too. While the trio were making their way over to the elevator, V had one of her eyes/sensors on Tessa the entire time.

After V saw that Tessa was no longer trustworthy and that the sentinels did not listen to her, she stopped following along with Tessa. Just as many more people have mentioned, it's really sad how V's true personality and care only shone in the second half of episode 6. How protective V became of Uzi and N. Taking lead while walking down the corridor, and taking lead in fighting the sentinels.

Now as for this! Tessa's hand injury, or something at least being wrong with her hand. Liam would not include this just because. Something is wrong with her left hand, and we have to keep that in mind for some odd reason. I have a feeling that the injury will come up later in eps 7 and 8. Perhaps if the theory of this Tessa being the imposter, then the gang will have to figure it out by basing it off of Tessa's left hand injury. That, or maybe this Tessa is the real one, and the injury might cause a hiccup in the fight that is gonna go down in ep 7 or 8.

Of course, as per usual, I could simply be looking in too deep to this. Feel free to gut this! ^_^