#i will never stop reposting this panel...never

[strawbsonmars]

Challengers (2024)

Challengers (2024)

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚

🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️

summary - poor little sleeping beauty (you) has a tough day, from finding out who she really is, and falling into a deep slumber. is the prince able to awaken her?

warning - smut, somnophilia, dubcon (all my characters consent), choking, spitting kink, swearing, creampie, breeding kink, wife kink, kidnapping, cursed.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You were shocked to learn the truth, finding out you were a princess and that your real name wasn’t Briar Rose, you were told your parents had named you Y/n and that they had to send you off with the fairies because a woman named Maleficent cursed you. You had to take a few moments to collect yourself, learning that they were to take you back on your eighteenth birthday, which meant you were due to leave your home any moment now to go back to where your family supposedly lived. 

As the four of you began to head off, your mind was full, thinking about your family, the curse, and the man you had met earlier that day. Oh, he was so handsome. You were saddened to hear the news that you were to be betrothed the moment you got to the castle. You didn’t want to be married off to a man you did not know. It didn’t sit right with you. Maybe if you spoke to your parents, they would understand and let you be with the man in the woods. 

After the long walk, you had finally arrived at the palace, staring up at it with wide eyes, gobsmacked at the sheer size of it. The guards moved out of the way as you walked closer to the entrance, letting you in. Your blue dress that the fairies made as a birthday present clung to your body with each step. Small hands touched your arm, causing you to look down at Fauna. “We will have to leave you for a bit, my dear. We have some business to attend to before you are able to meet your parents.” 

You give a soft smile. “That is alright, Fauna. I’ll be okay.” You assure them, watching as they leave. You begin to look around, admiring the artwork that litters the walls. Suddenly, a wisp of light appears in front of you. Your mind starts to go fuzzy as it pulls you into a trance, and your legs begin to follow as the light moves away from you, leading you toward a secret panel that opens when you are near. You walk up the winding staircase and into the hidden room.

Maleficent’s voice fills the room, coaxing you. “Touch the spindle! Touch it, I say!” Her command fills your ears, taking over your mind, and you have no choice but to obey. Your mind had taken over your legs, causing you to walk over to it. Your hand lifts, finger pointed, before a soft gasp escapes you when the spindle pricks your finger, causing it to bleed. You fall, eyes slipping closed into a deep slumber, not knowing of the dangers that lie ahead. Maleficent cackles as she appears over your unconscious body. “Oh, what a dumb girl.” She smirks as she spies into your mind and sees you dreaming of a man. “Hmm, if you want that man so badly, I guess I could give him to you.”

It was too late when the fairies realised what had happened. They looked at each other with wide eyes. They quickly become their former selves, allowing their wings and magic to take over and lead them to where you are. They would never have expected to be met with you, knocked out into a deep slumber with the one who cursed you standing above you in the same room. Their hearts race as Maleficent looks at the three with a deadly smirk, knowing they wouldn’t be strong enough to stop her. 

“The three fairies! Flora, Fauna and…” Maleficent cocks her head to the side, “Merryweather, I’m guessing?” She waves her hand, scoffing. “Oh, well. I don’t care. I assume you came to get your girl? It is a shame. She would’ve done some good for the world.” She reaches down, running her fingers through your hair. “But, I’m willing to show the princess that the world isn’t so good and colourful. Goodbye.” With a wave of Maleficent’s hand, you and she disappear, causing the fairies to set off in a panic, frightened to tell your father, the king, the news. 

Maleficent lays you on a soft bed, watching you as you sleep. “M–Maleficent, my queen. T–the prince, we found him…” She turns, raising a brow, waiting for her henchman to spit it out. “It seems he is waiting for the princess at the cabin, h–he seems impatient.”

“Hmm, that sounds perfect. Bring him to me!” She waves her hand before looking down at you. “You’re going to have so much fun, little one, and instead of true love’s kiss.” She scrunches her nose as those words leave her lips, not believing in such a thing. “Let’s make it something more… Extreme.” A dark grin appears on her face, knowing what the prince would do once he saw you. Her crow told her how the two of you got along in the woods and how the man couldn’t stop staring at your soft breasts and plump arse. 

Ransom struggled against the henchmen, growling and swearing as they dragged him along. “Get your filthy paws off me! I’ll kill you for touching me! Don’t you know who I am!” The henchmen just shrug and huff, not caring. One of them grabs a cloth and stuffs it into the young prince’s mouth, wanting some quiet. They finally make it up to the room you are held in, throwing Ransom inside. 

“Ah, finally.” Maleficent walks over, tilting his head up with her finger underneath his chin. “Hmm, you are quite handsome.” Her eyes drag across his face, getting what you see in him. Ransom’s brows furrow, unable to speak with the cloth in his mouth, his eyes fall upon your sleeping form, and he begins to wonder what the hell is happening. “But, you are not for me… Princess Y/n continues to think of you, and as you can see, she is currently in a deep slumber.” Maleficent leans closer to his ear, whispering. “Why don’t you find a way to wake her up.” She cackles as she straightens and waves her hand, disappearing in a puff of smoke.

His binds and cloth disappearing along with her, Ransom grumbles, shaking his head. “Fucking witches.” He stands, brushing off his clothes, and his head lifts as he peers at you, eyes drifting down your body. “Huh, so you’re the princess I’m meant to marry.” He walks close, tapping the blanket with the tip of his fingers. “I was ready to fuck you as a mere peasant girl, but knowing that you are much more, it’s so much better.”

It’s as though your body knows he is near. Your nipples harden and slick gathers between your thighs, your dreams turning sexual and dirty. You shift in your sleep, letting out a soft whimper as you dream of the handsome man in the woods, bending you over the log and thrusting into your tight cunt. 

Ransom smirks as he watches you squirm. His cock hardens when he hears soft whimpers escape you. “Fuck, sweetheart. You sound so good, and I haven’t even touched you yet.” He strips from his clothes, sighing as his cock springs free from his slacks, no longer feeling tight and suffocated. Ransom pulls the blanket away from your body, his cock twitching when his gaze lands on your dress, wondering if it could get any tighter. He slowly gets onto the bed and crawls on top of you, lifting your dress higher as he moves up your body. “So beautiful, and all mine.” He pampers you with kisses, kissing up your body until he reaches your face. 

Ransom groans when his leaking member connects with your bare cunt, and he grips his thick base, rubbing his swollen tip through your sopping folds. “Jesus, you’re so wet, sweetheart. What or who is making you so wet?” He raises his brow in jealousy, wondering who you could be dreaming of when he is here for you. “You know what? If you’re going to be a little slut in your dreams. Then I’m going to treat you like one.” Ransom growls, sick of competing with someone else when you should only be focused on him. He aligns his mushroom tip with your tight hole before thrusting in. His eyes close as he grunts, never having felt someone like you before. 

Sweet moans pass your lips, dreaming of the handsome man in the woods gently lying you onto a blanket on the ground, pressing his hips into yours as he buries himself deeply into you, making love to you, marking your skin with his hands and lips. Your back arches in your dreams, arms wrapping around him, nails digging into his back. 

Ransom moans, “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Shit, sweetheart, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight. You’re sweet walls are fluttering around me like crazy.” He buries his face into your neck, peppering kisses along your skin and thrusting harder and faster into your sweet honey pot. “My sweet little sleeping beauty.” Getting lost in how good you feel around his member, he hastily grabs a pillow and shoves it under your hips before gripping them, giving him leverage. “When you wake, I’ll continue to fuck you. I’ll fuck you every day, even after you become my wife. I’ll pump you full every single day and night. You won’t think of looking at another man when you have me.”

He nuzzles closer to you, pounding harder as he kisses your cheek, moving closer to your lips, his eyes slipping closed, enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him. “You’re mine, my sweet Y/n. All mine.” The moment his lips connect with yours, magic explodes around the two of you. Your eyes fly open, arms wrapping around him and your back arches. Ransom smirks, tilting his head back as he looks down at you with hooded eyes. “Ah, my sweet little sleeping beauty is finally awake. Do you feel that, sweetheart? Do you feel me inside you? Fucking into you, claiming you?” He fucks into you deeper, hitting against the hidden spot inside you. Ransom cups your cheek, glaring down at you with lust-filled eyes. His thumb lands on your bottom lip, pulling your mouth open. “You’re mine, understood?” 

You whimper, feeling yourself throb around his cock, never having experienced pleasure like this before. Your mind is cloudy, being pulled from your dream to see it come true with the man you’ve fallen for. You claw at his back, digging your nails into his soft flesh. “O–oh, it feels so good, my prince!” You scream, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to pound into that spot, allowing Ransom to spit directly into your mouth, smirking as you immediately swallow. 

Ransom moves his hand between you, rubbing and rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. Enjoying the feeling of you squeezing his thick cock, he continues to pound into you, the hand that cups your cheek, moves to your throat and squeezes. “You’re going to cum for me, sleeping beauty, and then. I will pump you so full of my cum that it leaks out of you for months.” Your sweet moans fill the room, walls tighten around Ransom, your back arches, and you cum, your juices squirt out of you, covering everything. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

He captures your lips with his, thrusting harder and deeper until his cock twitches and his eyes slip closed. Ransom groans when his end approaches, burying himself deep inside you and emptying thick spurts of cum, coating your walls and filling you to the brim. He begins kissing down, resting on your neck, leaving soft kisses in his path. “My sweet little sleeping beauty.” Ransom lifts his head and stares deeply into your eyes, his softening cock still deep inside you, blocking his cum from leaking out. “You’re now mine forever.”

You hum, feeling your eyes begin to droop again. You would later learn not to fall in love with the first handsome man you laid your eyes upon. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[bartxnhood]

right here waiting | f.o

finnic odair x fem!reader

summary: after the quarter quell you vanish, no sign, no trace. you left behind your boyfriend, finnick, who could just not wrap his head around your disappearance. what happened?

warnings: typical hunger games violence, blood, torture, strong language, descriptions of wounds.

a/n: this fic is a long time coming. i love finnick and is one of my favorite characters but i can never find the right storyline for his character. it’s also been a hot minute since i’ve watched the movies so if there are any inaccuracies just look away lmao. hopefully, i can continue to write for him. i hope you guys enjoy this one !! feedback is appreciated ! also since i haven’t written in a very long time this came out shorter than i wanted it too. sorry about that.

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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“run!!” your voice echoed, the dome was collapsing. “finnick, run!” you turned around, grabbing his wrist to pull you along. the arena was exploding as you tried your best to dodge the debris. katniss had used one of her arrows and shot the border of the arena causing it to collapse. now, all the victors began to spread out to take cover from the panels.

“holy shit, y/n, look out!!” finnick was ripped from your grasp as the ground below you rumbled and sent you falling.

"y/n!? “y/n!" you could hear someone calling your name in the distance, it was a panicked finnick searching the forest floor for your body. you opened your eyes trying to search for him but your vision was too blurry. everything was spinning. "finnick."

in seconds you were back on the ground and eyes falling back, slipping into unconsciousness.

it had been weeks since your disappearance, at first most people just assumed you had died that day in the arena. either by debris or the capital, but finnick knew that you were still out there somewhere.

for finnick, it was a nightmare. he barely left his room. every day that you stayed missing he slowly began to lose hope that he’d find you again. so, he began to mourn.

he was almost unrecognizable. finnick was letting himself go. he began to neglect his health, he refused to eat, he couldn’t sleep, and he was killing himself.

guilt heavy on his shoulders after losing you, even though the people around him had assured him that your disappearance wasn’t his fault. but finnick thought that had he held on to your hand just a little tighter you would’ve made it out.

katniss came to him one day, finding him lying on his bed staring at the ceiling like any other day. “this isn’t like you.” she stated. finnicks eyes found her, standing at the edge of his bed. the girl sighed, crossing her arms. “you’re killing yourself.” he shrugged. “what else am i supposed to do?” “fight for her?” “how?” katniss fell silent, she wasn’t sure how to proceed with the news she had just received. slowly, she moved to his side and sat down. “she’s alive.”

everything froze, he was sure he even stopped breathing. finnick sat up slowly so he could face katniss. “what?” “she’s in the capitol. with peeta.”

the bright fluorescent light of the hospital room burned your eyes, you brought your hand over your eyes to adjust to the light. once your eyes adjusted to the light you scanned your surroundings. you looked at your hand, you had an iv in, and you heard the faint beeping of the monitor next to you.

what happened? how did you get out? where were you? you barely remembered what happened in the capitol, it was all a blur. you began to panic, searching around the room wondering if you could get out.

the door opened, and you looked to your left and saw someone entering. “kat?” your voice was scratchy and hoarse. she now stood at your bedside holding your hand. she hummed, “hi, y/n/n”. “thank god” you breathed, tears welling in your eyes. “i thought id never see you again” katniss hushed your cries, wiping away the tears falling from your eyes. “shh, it’s okay. you’re okay” she smiled. caressing your cheek.

you had lost a lot of weight at this point, your face was sunken in. your body thinner than it had ever been, and you were beyond exhausted both physically and mentally. “oh, honey” she coaxed. you held onto her hand tightly, “there’s someone here who wants to see you.” she gently escaped from your grasp, walking to the exit.

"fin. you breathed, watching him enter the room. it felt like a dream you had wanted to see him for so long. it felt like an eternity. the one you loved so dearly, the one who has saved your life multiple times. "y/n" he walked over to your bedside. he was hesitant at first, but when you held your hand out for him he gained confidence.

"you're here." you weakly smiled, reaching for his hand. he found himself on the edge of your bed, holding you

“of course i am, sweets. where else would i be?" he chuckled softly, and you hummed. you brought your hand to his cheek. you examined his face and he placed his hands on yours. finnick studied you, making sure to soak in every detail.

"you'll never have to go through that again, y/n. i promise i'll do anything to keep you safe." he kissed the top of your head.

you smiled as he pulled back, and tears fell from your eyes again. "i know, fin" you said softly. "you look tired, love" he sighed. it had been such a long time since you'd been in his embrace, you missed everything about him. his jokes, snarky comments, his grin. he was your everything. "i am." you hummed, while he sat holding your hand. “rest, i’ll be right here when you wake up.”

[chochuuya]

his muse.

fashion designer mitsuya x reader

disclaimers: slight angst, tension, lots of back and forth.. possessive mitsuya yup yup |･ω･)

word count: 685

“why?” mitsuya asks, not looking up from his sewing machine. “you’re my model. i’m not fighting for your time with another man (y/n).”

he’s always had an obsession with beautiful things. you’re no exception, so you can’t leave him.

all of his designs are catered to you. when he sees you smile, or hears you laugh, he’s already sketching another. he shuts the machine off, looking at you.

“do you not like the clothes i make anymore?” he asks, brows furrowing. because why else would you leave?

you chew your bottom lip as you fidget on your hands. it’s always nerve wracking to talk to mitsuya when he’s tense.

“it’s nothing like that, takashi. trust me, your designs are par to none! it’s just that.. i want to dress more and for others too? i am still your model, yes but i’m just signing up for more houses.”

he frowns.

“my designs are for you and you alone. we established this (y/n).”

you know mitsuya is stubborn, and once he gets an idea into his head, it doesn’t budge easily. he takes his designs seriously and doesn’t like to see his models modelling for other designers. the thought of you modelling for anyone else makes him feel jealous and angry, and he struggles to mask it.

you shake your head in protest.

“takashi. of course you had and have support me enough up to this point, but i just thought i could get more experience if i get myself out there more you know?” you reasoned.

“you don’t need to get more experience, you’re perfect!” he exclaims with eyes pleading.

“my designs are made with you in mind (y/n), and they look best on you! the other designers won’t be able to replicate my work. they’ll probably mess it all up.” mitsuya continues, “you could ruin your reputation modelling for someone else, no one would want your image on their projects anymore!”

he stops, breathless for a few seconds.

“you’re my muse..” he says quietly. “you’re all i’ve got, don’t you see that?”

you sighed in defeat.

“how am i supposed to grow as a model when i’m not getting out of my comfort zone, takashi? i admire you and your talented quality crafts but please, try to understand me!”

he glares at you, anger in his eyes.

“i don’t want you to grow, (y/n)!" he shouts.

“i want you to be mine and only mine. if you can't understand that then- then-" he stops himself before he gets too carried away.

“i understand that you have your own goals and aspirations but i’d rather you keep me in mind too.”

he steps back, breathing rapidly.

“i’m sorry, i- i shouldn’t have yelled.” he pauses, trying to get ahold of his emotions.

“you have other models too, mitsuya..”

“but i want you to be my main model.” he says, a hint of pleading in his voice.

“you’re my best, and i can help you far better than anyone else ever could. you’re my muse and inspiration. i just- i don’t want that to change.” he added.

you thought of what he said so, there was silence for a mere moment before you break the ice.

“there’s something else you’re not telling me. i know you.” you said with your arms crossed.

he narrows his eyes at you, not liking being accused of hiding something.

“and what do you think that is?” mitsuya asks icily. he wants to hear what you think it is, but won’t admit it just yet.

“i don’t know. you tell me.”

mitsuya is silent for a moment, debating over whether or not to let you in on his secret. his eyes scan your face, trying to gauge your trustworthiness. you’d never betrayed his trust before, so why not now?

finally, he speaks, his voice softer.

“i didn’t want to tell you because i knew you’d be upset. but... i’m in love with you (y/n)." mitsuya says quietly, looking at you.

“i’ve been in love with you for years.”

...

maybe hakkai and yuzuha should come by another day.

please do not steal, copy, translate, repost to other sites or claim my writings as your own. plagiarism is real!

ngl that one panel where he fixes takemichi's suit is just *nosebleeds* (＿ ＿*) anyway, i hope you like this one! reblogs & likes are vv appreciated ♡

[agent371]

This post is talking about the designs (and the designs only, I haven't read anything from the authors and dont even know who they are so this is design based only) released for the new Damian Wayne comic - The Boy Wonder. I will be heavily critical and btching about these, but please tell me your thoughts as well. After Damian, the others are under the cut. Please read because it's important.

Damian's design is actually really good and the best one, which is probably good since this is a comic about him. And I love how he's not whitewashed, which is something that happens way too much in comics.

Now, to Nightwing, his design is okay for a Nightwing design, but he just looks off in this style. I think if they tried to stylise him more, it could look a lot cooler. So I think he's just got wasted potential. Also, he's probably whitewashed as well to make damian more special as the "only" POC in the family (probly why Cass, Duke, Luke, and Luicus aren't here as well).

Babs is next, and this is the main reason I made this post. They abled her. DC authors stop abling disabled characters, please, for the love of me, I can't stand it. She can be disabled and still be relevant in the plot. I swear the only reason authors do this is because they don't know how to write disabled characters. If they need a Batgirl, use Steph or Cass because they are more than capable of doing it. I know they aren't as iconic as Babs, but move on DC. She's so much more interesting as Oracle.

Batman, I'm not a fan of his big blocky design. I just don't like it. He also looks really irrelevant and giving this is a comic about Robin (his son!) I think he should be relevant or look like he isn't a background character who just grunts, like for the design it looks like he doesn't talk. Don't like it.

Jason now, I actually love his Red Hood costume it looks sick, and the R on the chest *chefs kiss*. But his robin outfit is too gritty, and from that, I can tell he's going to be mischaracterised as the "angry Robin," so Hood looks cool, but that's all it is, his looks.

Tim. There is so much to say, omg. Where is his hero outfit! Everyone else got them. Why didn't he? You can actually see RR in the preview, so why wasn't that design put here? Why is it just Tim? And why does kid Tim look homless you know he grew up rich, before and after his adoption sure he has a style but his cloths wouldn't be friad he'd still look sleek and scruff not on the verge of his cloths falling off his back. For this, I can tell he'll also be mischaracterised as just like Jason since this is a Damian comic they are doing to do him so dirty. :( Sad day for a 90's Tim Drake fan (like every day, tbh save my guy). His RR design also has a shitty mask, but other than that, it seems fine, I like the wings/cape for it that looks pretty cool.

Alfred is a stereotypical old man. He's got no individuality what so ever and will proble be in one panel, say something sarcastic, and never show up again.

Ra's is okay. That's all.

Talia doesn't even look like herself . If you showed me her design with no context, I would not know who she is.

Carrie. Why is she here? Like honestly, why? There are better characters to include in a comic like this, like Steph or Cass or Duke or Helana. They would all be better chooses than Carrie. I'm not the biggest Damian fan, but ofter, Damian fans have been wanting him and Huntress as in a comic for a bit. I do like her design, but I just don't get why she's here. (I'm not including her image because of the limit bit is on my previous repost)

[fanofthelamb]

lovely art you make please never stop!!!

WAAA TOO SWEET. thats it. MOREEEEEEE ART DUMP!!!!!!!! im not sure how many of these i posted but!! i think mostly it's all new!!!!!!!

I wonder if this'll become a thing for me. BAHAHAH

scrapped ref page i've made before ^^^^^ it was similar to nari's except it turns out the red's color jitter was too extreme.... the grren was AMAZING tho. Comments with the pieces btw!! and 30+ pics I think?! So expect a long ass post. :) this isn't even all the unposted art, just the stuff I thought was good enough to post!

First thing's first! How about a comic I never posted? I was kinda embarrassed by the writing of it, but this WAS just something to help Rue. (You might notice a lot of the art in this thread was sent to Rue and never posted. Sorry Rue. little of this is new for you. sone is tho. orzzzzz)

Woah? The lamb has feelings? The lamb has bad feelings about their past?? Who knew. Shocker. (also LMFAO AT NARI IN THIS HE REALLY SAID "oh ur crying? I'll give you a reason to cry")

something to kind of help storyboard out the animation i'm tryna work on. its not going well. turns out that shit is hard.

and some beyond the grove narinder. yall eat BTG nari UPPPPPP.

speaking of BTG? how about some panels of a future page? Chapter 1 still. feel free to laugh at how strangely i draw the draft. ti works for me!

back to normal nari. IN PANTS!!!!!!!!!!!

THIS isnt actually a drawing it's a real image taken of me and rue

i dont know if i posted this or not, actually. i am not a big fan of it, though.

i need to draw leshy and val more </3

idk if i posted kalladad either BAHAHAHAHA

also, i dont know if i posted THIS either. i dont SEE it but i could be wrong ?

now how about a couple of kissing booth scraps?

long with the scrapped comic where narinder kills and eats the face of the goat. </3 rip that thing (the goat LOVES fighting and LOVES someome who can beat thier ass almost as much)

and some heket bullying her brother (she wuvs him tho)

i dont know which acc i posted this to, actually. i drew this bc rick kept reposting halflife shit BAHAHAHH

oh and here's a vent piece or two i made with annona. they seem harmless enough to post i guess? i wish i made more content with them.

i jsut wanna chew them between my molars like a marshmallow.

this si also sometihng i made for rue BAHAHAHAHAH HAVE I POSTED IT? IDK.

and of course, the least toxic totally-not-abusive-as-fuck pairing of lamb and the red crown. this isnt exclusively BTG related but I dont know how much interest people would have with him being a character on FOTL? he is 1000% having his own role as his own charavter in BTG though.

oh, and this guy i wanted to post forever ago, but i needed time to adjust to his design. this is the best i have made of him and it might be what sticks. he's leshy's uncle. (took worm baby in after both his siblings went missing)

more nari, because he's my most popular scrumplie. probably bc i draw him the most and a lot of my stuff is nari centric. nude nari because i literally couldn't think up what i wanted to draw on him. i was gonna edit clothes on later and forgor BAHAHAHA

i actually dont know if i posted this too? this is tyar and baal <3 baal was pretty shocked to have learned vitas was tyar's spouse. he's still not ready to talk about it, but he does want to ask the lamb about it one day.

and some childhood memories i never finished.

i MIGHT have posted this one ?

i posted pieces of this page but here's the full:

[retrosofa]

I've finally collected the four issues of Tanoshii Youchien that feature Yoshiko Suganuma's Cutie Honey manga! I honestly never thought this day would come, considering how rare these back issues are. These little comics will probably never be released again, so I'm very thankful to own them.

The Tanoshi Youchien manga was marketed to little kids and basically an advertisement for the TV series. Each chapter is two pages long and usually holiday-themed for whatever reason. Aside from the first chapter, there is almost no action or violence. There is also no nudity, which is rare for any Cutie Honey product! We don't see Honey's iconic "Honey Flash" even once.

Suganuma's artwork is absolutely stunning. Her drawing style is truly the epitome of classic shoujo manga. I can't find a lot of information about her but it seems she was last active in the 80's, drawing horror manga. Not sure how she got involved with Cutie Honey.

Below are summaries of each chapter, along with some additional information on each issue:

November 1973 (New Serial): Honey Kisaragi introduces herself and stops Panther Zora from stealing jewels. Zora requests the help of Sister Jill and swears she'll make Honey pay in next month's issue.

December 1973: Panther Zora tries to steal Christmas cake from Honey but is easily thwarted. Zora and her subordinates are mounted like decorations on Honey's Christmas tree. Honey tells the readers to look forward to her New Years story.

January 1974: Honey is getting ready for New Years with Mami and Junpei, when a Panther subordinate attacks. Honey and Junpei drive him away. The final panel is a coloring page. The next chapter is advertised as "It's Setsubun, Honey." This was the only chapter printed in black and white.

The furoku for this issue included a "Hikari Train", which featured Honey as one of the passengers. This issue also included a full-color two panel comic about Honey losing a game of hanetsuki.

February 1974: Honey, Seiji, Mami, and Junpei celebrate Setsubun. Sister Jill and her minions try to run off with stolen jewels, but they slip on fukumame. Honey and Seiji laugh, and then warn children to be careful of where they're walking.

The furoku for this issue included a Honey paper doll. This issue also included "Popular Manga Karuta" which featured Honey on several cards.

The final chapter tells the readers to check out next month's issue but doesn't imply the continuation of Honey's adventures. It could be the editorial staff were unsure if they were continuing the serial or not.

Please do not repost these images without my permission.

[yeonzzzn]

🍓strawberries: yeonjun x reader | childhood friends to lovers | warnings: none, just cute ♡

"they say a double strawberry will bring love. spliting it in half and sharing it with another person, you will fall in love with each other..."

[3.0k words] ☆ [pls do not repost]

A soft tapping on your bedroom window startled you awake. 

You turned quickly to your left, seeing a face looking back at you. The face of your best friend. 

“Yeonjun!” you snapped holding your hands over your chest, “you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

The corners of his mouth tilted up, his finger pointing upwards, signaling you to open the window. 

You sighed as you walked over and lifted the glass up, “don’t you know what time it is?” you asked. 

Yeonjun checks the watch on his wrist, “it’s only 9:30pm.” 

You dropped your face in the palm of your hand, “only 9:30pm he says.” 

“Yeah! Obviously!” Yeonjun places his foot over the plastic panel to the window, “move over I’m coming in.”

You step aside, watching your childhood best friend make his way into your room. 

Yeonjun sets a plastic convenience store bag on your desk where you were once asleep. 

“Oh shit! I forgot we had math homework!” Yeonjun picks up your notebook, “can I copy this later?” 

You snatch the notebook from his hands, “you know you can do it yourself, right? And anyways, why are you here so late? It’s a school night you know.” 

He points to the plastic bag, “I got us snacks.” 

“Yeah. I can see that.” 

You decided to accept his snacks, knowing full well if you didn’t he would pout until you did or leave pouting and then you’d definitely never hear the end of it. You both sat on the floor leading against your bed to keep the crumb from getting on the bedsheets. 

Yeonjun went on telling a story about his experience at school earlier that day while you sipped on the cola he brought you, and munched on some chips. 

You and Yeonjun have been friends since birth, your mothers are both best friends, which automatically made the two of you best friends. 

“Like Y/N it was crazy! This fight was different from any other school fights I’ve seen!”

You nodded your head, “I can tell by your story. I don’t know why you get yourself caught up in these fights, remember we are seniors in high school, if you want to get into a good college, you can’t get caught up in that.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, “It’s not like I was in the fight, I just stopped it.” 

“That does not help your case.” 

He shrugs, digging into the bag for another snack.

“Ah! I forgot I got strawberries!” 

You glance over, seeing the rubbing strawberries in his hands. Your eyes lit up, “why did you not start with the strawberries first! I love them!” 

Yeonjun smiled brightly, “that’s why they had to be last! I know you love them.” 

The smell of the fresh strawberries filled your room, your mouth watering, ready to have a taste. 

One by one you both took them, the container soon almost empty. 

Yeonjun’s attention was soon taken by the last strawberry, he held it up in his hand, “it’s a double strawberry.” 

You reached across trying to take it from him, but he pulled away, “I call dibs!” you tried to reach again but he was quick to pull it further away, “Yeonjun!” 

“Do you not know the lord to double strawberries?!” he frantically let out, still shoving you away from the red goodness. 

“What is so special about a double strawberry?? Is it more juicy? I want it if so!” 

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, “No! Silly! Sit back and I will tell you.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you let him win, ready for him to explain. 

“Okay, they say if you share a double strawberry, the ones who share it fall in love with each other.” Yeonjun smiled up at you, only for his smile to fade once he saw the look on your face.

“That’s the lore?” you couldn’t hide that your were disappointed. You hoped for the lord to be something more amazing.

Yeonjun flicked his finger to your forehead, “yes that IS the lore! Do you not find that interesting?!”

You shook your head, “I think it is silly to put trust in a fruit to make two people fall in love.” 

Yeonjun shrugged, “I think it’s fascinating.”

“You’ve always been the more romantic one out of the two of us.” 

He nodded, staring down at the strawberries. You felt bad after not believing his story, Yeonjun always loved theories and it made you feel guilty for shutting it down so quickly. 

“I’m sorry for being mean,” you apologized.

He smiled brightly at you, “share the strawberry with me.”

You laughed, thinking he was joking. “What? You’re serious?”

He nodded again, “yeah why not?” he wiggled his brows, “maybe we’ll figure out if it’s true or not.” 

You shoved his shoulder, “stop playing.”

He locked eyes with you, your heart rate increasing seeing how very serious he was being, “I’m not playing, Y/N.” 

All you could do was nod in agreement. What’s the worst that could happen?

Yeonjun split the strawberry and handed you your half. 

This was the first time you felt nervous around him. Yeonjun knows your deepest, darkest secrets. Has seen you at your worst, and even your highest. This man embarrassed you in front of the whole student body in the fourth grade when he found out which boy you had a crush on and announced it to everyone. Never once had he ever made you feel the things you were right now. 

But you ate the strawberry anyways, watching as he ate his half. 

“You’re right,” his voice startled you, “the double strawberry was really juicy.” 

Yeonjun looked over at you making eye contact. 

Every inch of you was screaming to look away, to nod your head in agreement that the strawberry was indeed juicy and really good. 

But you couldn’t break away, you sat frozen beside him. 

Yeonjun inched closer to you, shifting his body facing you, his arm resting on your bed while the other hand reached for you.  

You let him. You let him place his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb brushing against your cheek. You could smell his cologne, feel his breath against your skin. 

Yeonjun slowly connected his lips to yours. Your body went hot from his touch. Everything was spinning, but felt as if the world had stopped. 

Once he pulled away, you had to remind yourself to breathe. 

“It’s late,” he said, pushing your hair behind your ear, “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” 

Yeonjun placed a final kiss on your forehead, and you watched him climb out your window and disappear down the street. 

As if the lore of the strawberry were true, you fell in love with him. 

Everything with Yeonjun felt so right. Everything made sense with him. 

And he felt the same with you. 

The two of you spent the rest of the school year together. 

You became the “it” couple of the school. And deep down, you loved it. 

Every holiday with him was better than before. Every date was more and more special. Every kiss took your breath away every single time. The first I love you melted you. But your heart raced faster each time you heard those words come from his mouth. 

You loved him with every inch of your being. You felt as if nothing could tear you two apart. 

Until the day came where it did tear you apart. 

The two of you sat on the floor of his bedroom. Boxes filled every corner of the room, the convenient store bag of snacks, untouched. A container of strawberries empty, with no double strawberry. 

“Yeonjun, we can find a way!” you cried. 

He tucked his lip between his teeth, “we can’t and you know that.” 

Today was supposed to be a celebration of Yeonjun being accepted as a trainee, but you didn’t think the celebration would end with the both of you ending. 

High School graduation was in a week, you both had so many plans for the summer. He was supposed to follow you to your dream college that was three hours away if he wasn’t accepted as his dream company to be a trainee, and even if he was accepted, you both wanted to make it work. 

Until tonight. 

You knew with Yeonjun’s schedule he wouldn’t have time to visit you often or text or even call often. You did not think it was going to be enough to break the two of you apart. 

You kept looking at the empty container of strawberries, wishing a double one would magically appear there. Maybe the lore wasn’t true after all. 

Graduation came and gone. Days passed. Months flew by and then a years. 

You graduated top of your class from college and landed your dream job in Seoul and moved into a beautiful apartment. 

Your parents threw you a party in congratulations. All your friends from high school came and even the one from college. 

You sat on the couch beside your parents, listening to them talk about how their lives have been since you’ve been gone. You’ve talked to them on the phone every single day, and they’ve visited, but there was still a lot to be caught up on. 

“Oh honey! Mrs. Choi told me to give you her congrats.” your mother said, giving you a warm smile. 

You nodded and smiled back, “tell her I said thank you.” 

She nodded back, but her warm smile slowly faded, “Have you spoken to Yeonjun?” 

You froze at his name, slowly looking away from your mom.

She placed a hand on your shoulder, giving a soft squeeze. 

You excused yourself, rushing away to the kitchen. 

Yeonjun never left your mind. For years since the last day you saw him, he was all you ever thought about. Your heart ached for him. It wanted him and only him. 

You noticed a fruit plate on the table, with a singular strawberry sitting on it. You picked it up, and threw it away. 

A few months have gone by, you settled into your apartment and made a name for yourself at your job. Life was getting easier and Yeonjun didn’t cross your mind much anymore. But maybe it was due to being busy. You never knew the answer to that, and didn’t want to find that answer. 

The first snow of winter touched the ground. You shoved your hands into your jacket pockets, forgetting your gloves at home was the worst mistake of the day. 

You had a late day at work, causing you to walk home at 9pm. With the sun down, the winter breeze was even cooler. 

You kept your head low as you continued your walk back home, counting down the steps until you walked into your apartment. 

A few pairs of laughter in the distance caught your attention, you didn’t want to run into them after all. 

You glance up, seeing five men standing on the sidewalk, laughing at each other. 

It made you smile, it reminded you of the times you and your friends would laugh. 

But your smile faded, when you recognized one smile. 

You stopped walking after fully realizing you recognized the laugh too. 

Your heart raced seeing how happy he looked. How different he looked. You could tell he carried himself different. His smile was bigger. He was much taller. His hair was dyed orange. He looked the happiest you’ve ever seen him. 

You knew you needed to walk away, to turn around and walk a different way home. You couldn’t ruin this for him. 

But it was too late. 

He made eye contact with you. His smile faded. 

You wanted to move, but your feet were planted to the ground. 

He said something to the four friends of his and made his way to you. 

You finally were able to look away, hoping his friends would pull him back, but saw they were no longer on site. 

Finally, you were able to turn around, facing away from him.

“Y/N! Wait please!”

You couldn’t take another step before his hands turned you around and pulled you to him, his arms wrapping around you.

You fought yourself to keep from crying, kept yourself stiff so you wouldn’t. 

Yeonjun realized it too, slowly pulling himself from you. 

“Why are you out here alone?” he asked, pulling a strain of hair behind your ear, “you’re freezing! Are you heading home? I’ll drive you.” 

You shook your head, “no I’m fine.” 

His face fell, watching his foot dig into the snow. 

“Please let me take you home, I don’t feel okay knowing you’re walking alone.”

You took a deep breath in, “you haven’t changed much have you?”

A small smile grew on his face, “obviously not.” 

You agreed to let him drive you home. 

He stopped at the convenient store down the street from your apartment, “why are we stopping?” you asked. 

He gave you a wink, “for snacks of course, just like old times.” 

Your heart sank, but you slowly nodded anyway. You tried to push the last memory of sharing snacks with him out of your head. You didn’t want to remember it. 

Yeonjun dropped the plastic bag on your kitchen table, sliding his jacket off, dropping it in the chair. 

“Want any coffee? To help warm up?” you asked. 

Yeonjun nodded, “yes, thank you.  

He rustled through the plastic bag, bringing out a few packages of ramen, two bags of chips, and a container of strawberries. 

You handed him his coffee, glancing down at the container. 

“You really got everything we used to eat as children, didn’t you.” you soft scoffed. 

Yeonjun tore open one of the bags of chips, “hey I’m a simple guy.” 

You rolled your eyes, sitting down at the table across from him, “you really didn’t change.” 

He glanced over at you, “why would I?” 

You shrugged, tapping your fingers on your coffee mug, “you’re an idol now.” 

“Y/N, just because I’m famous doesn’t mean I’m not the same Yeonjun you know.” 

You looked away from him, seeing his face hurt. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered. “I am an idiot, I get it. But I haven’t stopped thinking about you all these years. You’re the main reason I was able to get as far as I did.” 

You looked into his eyes trying to read him. Yeonjun never was able to hide how he felt from you, even as kids you always knew what he was feeling. And right now wasn’t any different. You could see his emotions all over his face. 

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he chuckled, “but I couldn’t put you through that life.”

You shocked your head, anger filled you, “you don’t know how it would have worked! I was ready for that life. Prepared myself for it. I was ready to support you through thick and thin.”

Yeonjun nodded, “I know, trust me I do.” 

You both sat in silence, until you decided fighting with him wasn’t what you wanted right now. You finally reunited with him, you don’t know when you’d be able to see him again. 

“Want to eat the strawberries and talk how we used to?” 

Yeonjun smiled, opening the container. 

You listened as he talked about his trainee days, about his group members, the company he’s under and even his seniors who he looks up to and all the friends he was able to make. He looked so happy talking about it all. You couldn’t help but wonder how different it would have been for him if you were still in the picture during that time. 

“I’m very happy for you, Yeonjun,” you picked up a strawberry, “I guess it worked out in the end.”

You didn’t mean for those words to be that sharp, but you could tell they cut him like a knife. 

“I meant it when I said I never stopped thinking about you. I talked about you all the time. I still do.” 

“I think about you too,” you decided to admit, “I never stopped.” 

He cleared his throat, “get me caught up on you.” 

You caught him up on your everyday life and how you ended up in Seoul. 

“I am very glad you’re doing well for yourself, Y/N. I was worried about you.” 

You raised a brow at him, “I’m an adult Yeonjun, I can’t take care of myself now.” you teased him. 

He threw his hands up in defense, “hey listen, I trust you okay.” 

You both laughed. You missed this. You missed him. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered, as if he could read your mind. 

You sighed, “I’ve missed you too.” 

Yeonjun chuckled, reaching for the last strawberry in the box, his eyes frozen on it. 

You took a sip from your coffee, watching him in confusion, “what is wrong with it?”

He smiled, “have you ever heard the lore of sharing a double strawberry with someone?” 

You set your cup down, seeing the double strawberry in his hand. 

“Yeonjun…”

“They say if you split the strawberry in half with someone, the two will fall in love.” 

He glances up at you, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Yeonjun…I—“

“I’m still in love with you, Y/N,” he interrupted. “I loved you way before we even shared the first double strawberry. I think I’ve loved you for as long as I could remember, and I never stopped. Sharing the strawberry with you that night all those years ago only gave me the confidence to finally show it.” 

Tears formed in your eyes. The happiness you felt in that moment was written all over your face. 

“I don’t remember when I realized it, but it’s the same with me”, you reached across the table grabbing him by his shirt collar, “I’ve always loved you Choi Yeonjun, and it took that stupid double strawberry to finally realize it.” 

The last thing you saw was his smile and his face inching closer to yours. Your world spun at the touch of his lips. Your heart raced feeling his cold hand brush against your neck. 

He was here with you. And that’s all that mattered in that moment. 

Yeonjun pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, “so, we are sharing this strawberry?” 

“As long as you promise to not leave my side again.” 

“You’re crazy if you think I’m dumb enough to walk away from you again.”

[weenwrites]

love 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 LOVE your writing! You’re one of, like, three authors I can actually identify. (I don’t pay attention to who writes what nor do I remember, but you write so well that from rereads and new reads I recognize you).

When you feel up to it, can you do TFP Smokey, OP, and Ratchet with an s/o (cargo plane alt, big bot, like Stratosphere) crashing like Smokey did and the surprise reunion? Aaaand maybe other misc reactions of such a big bot?

✎ A/N: Aa thank you so much for your kind words!! :D Also I could've sworn I did a reuniting with S/O on earth thing with Optimus and Ratchet before, so I leaned more towards reactions about having a massive S/O instead.

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Smokescreen

When the two of you first met, he was in complete and total awe at your sheer gargantuan size. In fact, the way he gawked at you the whole time he was passing by, may have caught your attention and saved him from bumping straight into a glass panel that two bots were moving, and if that wasn't the case, then ah well.

Anyway, back before the war grew so hectic, he was proud to have a partner as cool as you, and every time the random person he was talking with would comment about you, he'd casually just slip in a "yeah, that's my partner" with the most love-struck look on his face.

There's no place in the world where he wouldn't recognize you right off the bat. Aside from your size being your most defining trait, he'd recognize your color scheme, alt-mode, and voice anywhere, no matter what was going on. And the moment you crash-landed right in front of him, he was so confident that he knew you well enough to tell you apart from any phony.

Of course the rest of the team were immediately going at him, telling him that it's not that easy to tell their real friends apart from the spies, but when he's proven right that it is indeed you, he never lets them live it down and now all they want is for him to shut up about it.

As badly as he wants to share a habsuite with you, the chances are that you are waaay too big to fit in any rooms. The largest room that could possibly fit you is the training room, but even then you dwarf it easily (and also they need to use that...). Once you get your own room, however, he spends much more time with you in there than he does in his own habsuite.

He brags about you quite a lot to the rest of the team and says things like "did you know that my s/o—" or "oh hey! y/n used to enjoy doing that before the war—" and at this point they're all fed up with how lovesick he is. They would shove him off on patrol with you to take care of the problem. Even Arcee's started teasing you, about all these things that Smokescreen's said, and honestly it'll get so embarrassing that you'll probably ask him to stop at some point.

He's very eager to fight along side you, and keeps encouraging you to go out with him into battle. He'll paint vivid pictures of your shared glory—just imagine, the moment you step onto the field you'll completely level the cons to ashes! They won't ever know what hit them!

Optimus

If you met sometime before the war, when he was still an archivist, then he'd frequently go out to visit you since you were probably too big to be walking around the Iacon Hall of Records. Flying with you was one of his favorite past times after any long and difficult shifts. Unfortunately the two of you don't get to enjoy that once peaceful feeling of flying together when the war started. Flying lost its relaxing touch and soon became more stressful and frightening, as the fear of being shot out of the sky became more prevalent in both your lives.

Soon enough, the fear of losing one another had became something so horrifically possible, and the next second it became real, and the rest became history that passed in several long, agonizing years.

As opposed to expressing joy and relief to seeing you again—well, he partly was—he was initially skeptical that it was truly you. The team had been tricked by a decepticon spy before, who's to say it won't happen again? Yet the moment you confirm your identity, he allows his cold, distant front to drop, and he sincerely welcomes you back.

Though he didn't express any enthusiasm outright upon seeing you again, he makes his feelings clearer once the two of you are away from prying eyes. And as you catch up, it's not hard to miss how the war has made him jaded and weary, yet you don't have to look too far to see glimpses of how he was before.

He tries to situate a nice comfortable living space for you—preferably somewhere that's within the base, but since you're too big to fit in any of the current rooms they have, the best they'd have is probably someplace outside. And if this is sometime after the base was destroyed, then unfortunately the best he could do for you was get the biggest hangar they have on base to house you in your alt-mode.

But then there comes the problems with energon rations... Your massive size and your altmode automatically constitutes an equally large portion of energon is required for you to function, and with the team's unfortunate shortage and size, it's difficult to obtain enough energon to keep everyone functioning... Yet perhaps now with your assistance, it may be easier to obtain enough energon to supply the entire team.

Ratchet

Even before the war, he was no stranger to loss. There have been patients who he couldn't save and the war only increased that amount ten-fold, yet the feeling never ceased in it's capacity to tear him apart from the inside. A lot of horrible things have happened to him, but the moment he lost you took the cake for the "worst thing that's ever happened". And in that moment, it was as if things were as painful and horrible as possible, it couldn't get any worse and it would never get better again.

And yet that moment eventually passed, as all things do. Though the tears shed have long since dried, and the loud, echoing sobs have grown quiet, that absence always stuck with him. He doesn't think of it as much as he used to, he's far too occupied with his own work to mourn, but it's still there.

Beholding you was like beholding a ghost, and he couldn't really believe that you were standing right there in front of him. He's nigh speechless, but somehow he manages to get himself together to say your name at the very least. He's quick to run a general check-up, and your massive size doesn't slow his work in the slightest.

As much as he'd prefer to have you live within the base, the place is already pretty crowded as is, and with someone your size packed in with the rest of the bunch, he wouldn't be surprised if the number of accidents around the base would skyrocket tenfold. Of course he doesn't mean any offense to you, it's just that there's no space for you. Their current base is so ridiculously minuscule in comparison to the buildings back on cybertron that it feels like they're living in a cardboard box that the U.S. government kicked over to them. While it's certainly far from ideal, he still has to make do, so he'll try to help think of something to improve your living conditions.

Sure, the thought that someone could get hurt on a mission is something that weighs on his mind every single time, but for some reason whenever you're deployed, that anxiety of his worsens ten-fold. It may be because you're partners, but from a medical standpoint, if you were to get hurt, you could leave a massive crater in the team's resources. Not only could you easily wipe out what little energon they have, but the team doesn't have the proper resources to patch up any major injuries, and the last thing he wants right now is to be forced to say goodbye to you permanently.

[vaderkin-is-a-lightning-rod]

Hello everyone!!

We’ve got a lot of amazing pieces of art and fictions for the Vaderkin Creative Exchange 2024! I’m super proud of all of you. 💜

On this day, until the 31 August...

🎊 🎉 🎨 THE CREATIVE FESTIVAL OFFICIALLY OPEN 🎨 🎉 🎊

For the artists and writers who had this idea for one of the prompt they received but didn’t have time to make it — this is the occasion!

For creators who missed the deadline and wanted to join the event — this is the occasion!

For people inspired by one of the drawings, or by one of the fanfiction scenes — this is the occasion!

How to participate?

On Tumblr: Tag your work Vaderkin Creative Festival 2024, precise the work that inspired your art, and mention the server blog @vaderkin-is-a-lightning-rod so we can repost you.

On AO3: Tag your work Vaderkin Creative Festival 2024, precise the work that inspired your art, and add your work to the vaderkin_creative_exchange_2024 collection

This is an event to give you the chance to draw fanarts or write fanfiction on the amazing creations this event produced. You don’t need to have signed up to the event nor receive / made a gift for it. You can make a fic or an art inspired by a fic which itself was inspired by another art, make a fanwork inspired by an art of the event, and begin an art fight! The only limit, is that it must be linked in some way to one of the event works.

Basically, be inspired, draw, write, and have fun! 🥳

Vaderkin Creative Exchange 2024 Masterlist

Fanfiction

Sáinnithe by @sinvulkt for @squad-724

Field of Dreams by @fanfictasia , TiranaSorki for @mina-jamsin-derulo

Letters by @fanfictasia , TiranaSorki for @mina-jamsin-derulo

Dying Stars by @fanfictasia , AminaGila for @acryliccassetteart

Heaven Swallowed the Smoke by AshCatchem for @nightingalewritings

As Everything Burns by @fanfictasia , RivanaRita for @zero-max

Paths by @wisechaosglitter for @sunrisemcashao3

Eyes on Ahsoka by @rinn-e for @mina-jamsin-derulo

Beyond the Stars: The Enduring Legacy of a Galactic Hero, 20 Years Later by Squidwonder for @tramp-fiction

grudging sacrifices by @unlikecharlie for @cinderfeather

just like a photograph by @withyourrhythm for @omaano

Is this the droid you want to die on? by @adragonsfriend for @ladyv-aka-via

Flightless by @ravenite-void for @fancyfrey

Fragments of a Dynasty by @tantive404 for @ravenite-void

Under the Moonlight by cherrycourage for @artmelody

Present, Past, and Future by @wendingways for @mina-jamsin-derulo

knowing how it goes (but never how to stop it) by MillionLights for @vandervoiz

The Restless Devourer by @vandervoiz for @sinvulkt

in thousands of agonies - i exist by @femmefangirl for @asteral-feileacan

Brillant and Blue by @nightingalewritings for @sinvulkt

In Common by @pat-the-togorian for @fanfictasia , RivanaRita

Angel of Fire by @asteral-feileacan for @starlesssky72

How to date a Time Traveling Jedi (quickest routes, no shortcuts) by @zero-max for @yatsukisakura

Don't Look Them in the Eye by @cinderfeather for @piroporopi

Art

A Scar In the Eye and [Panel 2] by @piroporopi for @vandervoiz

Alone by my side by @nightingalewritings for @tantive404

In from the desert by @nightingalewritings for @adragonsfriend

Vaderkin Creative Exchange 2024 art by @jarenka for @rinn-e

They were great and a family by @ravenite-void for Melly (ao3)

Through time and into darkness by @ravenite-void for @wendingways

Art for Vaderkin creative exchange 2024, The Winter Picnic and Art #2 by @wendingways for @unlikecharlie

[ART] Your Mistake by @asteral-feileacan for @fanfictasia , Tirana

No Respite From The Past and A Cord Unsevered by @vandervoiz for @letitrainathousandflames

Artwork by @artmelody for @pat-the-togorian

Vader kidnapped, Disaster trio (or with Padmé) being a family, Eldritch Dragon Anakin, Anakin transforms, horrified and Vaderkin falling from the sky by @fancyfrey for @sinvulkt

Beginning at the end by @mina-jamsin-derulo for @artmelody

Eyes on the future by @mina-jamsin-derulo for @christina-stark-skarlet-stileto

Until The Night Ends by @mina-jamsin-derulo for SquidWonder

Artwork by @starlessskys-artblog for @ravenite-void

The Clone Wars: 20 Years Later! Exclusive Interview with General Anakin Skywalker-Amidala by @tramp-fiction for @wisechaosglitter

To protect, Anakin... Or Vader?, Blob Vader get BOOPED and Surrender by @sinvulkt-art for @cinderfeather

The restless devourer, The dark wyrm, The puppeteer by @sinvulkt-art for MillionLights (ao3)

Anakin and Fives shenanigans by @omaano for @fanfictasia , Amina

Of Shotguns and Band-aids  by @zero-max for @asteral-feileacan

Artwork by @ladyv-aka-via for @shevek

Massive Mer Ani by @squad-724 for @zero-max

Medusa Vader by @squad-724 for @nightingalewritings

March on the Temple by @acryliccassetteart for @fanfictasia , Rivana

Panel by @yatsukisakura for @withyourrhythm

When Your Boss is Very Heavy by @cinderfeather for MaDonz(ao3)

[Art] Mom did it better by MaDonz for AshCatchem

Chaos by @fanfictasia , RivanaRita for @femmefangirl

"I'm prepared to sacrifice my life." by @sunrisemcashao3 for @starr234

This is the fourth step of the Vaderkin Creative Exchange 2024 event. You can find the full event rules here.

[stnkiconverse]

you're going to do it, and you're getting away with it. you know that.

Ch.4 - Hiding

⇠ Previous

Next ⇢

genre: psychological horror (in a way), creepypasta, supernatural thriller (in a way)

pairing: none.

WC: 1.4k

content warnings: echoes in the static contains scenes and themes that may be disturbing or triggering to some readers, including: graphic violence and murder, mental illness and psychological distress, suicide and self-harm, domestic abuse and strong language.

Reader discretion is advised.

Yes this has to do with Greepypastas. Yes, Creepypastas will pop up and make appearances, it's basically a reader insert into the Creepypasta word.

do not repost my work anywhere, I only post in Tumblr.

This is only a filler chapter lol

When you wake up, your eyes snap open. The exhaustion from the previous day weighs heavily on you. As you remember the events of the previous day, your mind immediately reminds you that you need to hide the axe and shovel. A sense of urgency takes over, pushing away any lingering grogginess.

You think of places to hide them, and it instantly clicks. You grab the bag containing both the axe and the shovel and take it to the bathroom, dumping them out in the bathtub. The remnants of dirt from last night cling to the tools, a stark reminder of what you did. You scrub off the remaining dirt with fervor, your cleaning sponge working overtime. The repetitive motion is almost soothing, each stroke of the sponge erasing the physical evidence of your actions. You then do the same with the shovel, making sure no trace of the previous night remains. Once they’re both clean, you dry them off meticulously.

Walking to the living room, you stop in front of your bookshelf. You put the axe and shovel down before pulling the bookcase forward. Kneeling down, you push a wood panel to the side at the bottom right corner. It moves, revealing a hollow space in the bookshelf. Quickly, you place both tools inside. Just as you’re about to close it, you freeze. Faint static fills your ears, and the unsettling feeling of being watched creeps over you, just like yesterday. Heart pounding, you close the compartment and push the bookshelf back into place.

The unsettling feeling lingers as you step into the shower. The hot water cascades over you, washing away the grime but not the tension. As you scrub your skin, you replay the events of last night, the feeling of satisfaction mixed with a twinge of paranoia. You remind yourself of the necessity of your actions, grounding yourself in the reality of your mission. The steam envelops you, and for a moment, you lose yourself in the warmth, allowing it to cleanse not just your body but your mind as well.

After dressing, you prepare a simple breakfast. The familiar routine brings a semblance of normalcy, though the weight of your actions never fully leaves your mind. The scent of coffee fills the air, a small comfort in the midst of chaos. You rehearse your responses if someone asks about the previous night, keeping your story straight and believable. Each bite of food is a reminder of your need to maintain appearances, to blend seamlessly into your old life.

As you head to work, a mixture of anxiety and confidence fills you. You keep a vigilant eye on your surroundings, noticing every detail. People go about their daily routines, oblivious to the darkness you carry. The journey feels both surreal and grounding, a bridge between two worlds. The hustle and bustle of the city is a stark contrast to the silent, deadly resolve you harbor within.

Entering the flower shop, you’re greeted by the familiar scents and sights. Lisa’s cheerful demeanor is a welcome contrast to your internal turmoil. She asks about the concert, her curiosity evident. “How was the concert, Y/N? You seem really happy today!”

You force a smile, keeping your answers vague. “It was great. Just what I needed to unwind.” Lisa nods, satisfied with your response but unaware of the truth lurking beneath. Her innocence and genuine interest provide a momentary respite from your own dark thoughts. You immerse yourself in work, arranging flowers and helping customers. The routine tasks help to anchor you, though moments of distraction creep in. You occasionally catch yourself staring into space, lost in the memory of last night.

The day passes with a strange sense of normalcy. Customers come and go, the rhythm of the shop a soothing backdrop. The vibrant colors of the flowers and the pleasant interactions with customers provide a stark contrast to the violent memories etched in your mind. But there are moments when your heart skips a beat, like when a police car passes by or when a customer gives you a lingering glance. You brush off these moments, reminding yourself that you took every precaution. Each interaction, each smile you offer, is a careful performance designed to maintain your façade.

As the workday ends, you feel a mix of relief and anxiety. Heading home, you remain alert, taking extra care to ensure you aren’t being followed. The sense of being watched from this morning has faded, but a part of you remains vigilant. The journey home feels longer than usual, each step measured and cautious. The shadows lengthen, and the city’s once comforting sounds now seem ominous.

Back at your apartment, you immediately open your computer. Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you check the missing person reports. Nothing about Frank has popped up. A wave of relief washes over you, though you know it’s only a matter of time. You delve deeper, researching police investigations, understanding who they would interrogate first and how they conduct their searches. The screen’s glow illuminates your determined expression, each click and scroll bringing you closer to perfecting your plan.

As the hours pass, you lose yourself in the depths of the internet. You study forensic techniques, past unsolved cases, and alibi creation. Each piece of information adds another layer to your understanding, reinforcing your resolve. The complexity of police procedures and the meticulous nature of their investigations both fascinate and terrify you. You take notes, creating a mental map of potential pitfalls and necessary precautions.

As you sit back, stretching your tense muscles, a thought strikes you. The axe and shovel. They’re hidden well, but you need to ensure they’re never discovered. Your mind races, considering the possibility of future searches. You decide to move them to a more secure location.

You recall an abandoned shed on the outskirts of town, a place you stumbled upon during one of your long walks. It’s secluded, rarely visited, and the perfect spot to hide the tools permanently. You make a mental note to visit it tomorrow, moving the tools under the cover of darkness. The image of the shed, hidden among overgrown foliage and surrounded by silence, feels like the perfect solution.

You retrieve the axe and shovel from the hidden compartment in the bookshelf, feeling the weight of them in your hands. Carefully, you wrap them in an old blanket to avoid suspicion and place them in a duffel bag. Each step is calculated, each action deliberate. The night’s silence amplifies your movements, every sound a potential threat.

The next night, under the cover of darkness, you set out with the duffel bag slung over your shoulder. The streets are quiet, the air crisp with a hint of anticipation. You take a circuitous route to avoid drawing attention, your senses heightened to any potential threats. Each shadow seems to hold a secret, each passerby a potential witness.

Arriving at the abandoned shed, you push open the creaky door and step inside. The smell of decay and neglect fills the air, but it’s a welcome scent. You find a spot behind a pile of old, rotting wooden planks and carefully place the wrapped axe and shovel there. You cover them with the planks and debris, ensuring they are well hidden. The shed’s eerie silence and the weight of the tools create a sense of finality.

Standing back, you survey the area. It looks undisturbed, just as you planned. You take a deep breath, the weight on your shoulders feeling lighter. The shed, now your secret keeper, feels both foreboding and reassuring.

As you walk back home, the feeling of being watched returns. You glance around, but see no one. The static you heard this morning echoes in your mind, a constant reminder of the unknown presence. But you push it aside, focusing on the task at hand. The journey home is a blur, each step fueled by adrenaline and determination.

Once home, you exhaustedly sit on the chair next to your desk. You look down at your hands, and the image of your blood-stained, gloved hands flashes in your mind. Without realizing it, a smile creeps up your face. The adrenaline rush, the thrill of the kill—it’s something you can’t shake off. The memory of Frank’s final moments, the power you felt, it’s intoxicating.

You don’t have anything other than work for the next few days. Maybe you can find something to do, something that will bring back that rush. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement. The static returns, a faint whisper in your ear, hinting at future possibilities.

banners by: @drizztdohurtin

Taglist is open, comment to be added.

🏷️: @mimmickmouse @stranger-of-the-internet @akashic06072007

[innamorament0]

reposting the link to my SCBB fic again because why not =D With an excerpt now!

She dropped her palm on the hand-shaped hollow on the control panel of the matrix and watched red Kryptonian letters appear on it, sorting her genome through the countless people that were on The Exodus right now. Three and a half million - it will take some time, Kara thought and took her hand off the panel, rubbing on the place where the needle that took a drop of her blood penetrated her skin.

“Rao!” - she heard her mother exclaim in almost ecstatic happiness. - “There is a match! We got a match! Oh thank you, Rao!” 

“What?” - Kara blinked dumbfoundedly a few times, looking at her parents who hugged each other, Alura wiping a tear of happiness from her eyes. She turned around slowly, afraid that she was being played by the device and the words “ match found… retrieving mate’s information… ” would disappear as fast as it appeared, but they didn’t, the matrix was still going through the database and looking for the full profile of her future spouse. Kara felt dizzy all of a sudden, cold sweat forming on her brow. She honestly never thought that she would be matched with someone and, if she had held the faintest hope it would happen at all, she never would have thought this day would come so soon.

“INFORMATION FOUND” - Kara’s breath hitched. 

“KARA ZOR-EL MATCHED WITH…

LENA LUTHOR.

SPECIES: HUMAN

FELON NUMBER: 16975

BIRTH PLACE: EARTH, 201480 HOURS AGO

RESIDENCE: MEGASTRUCTURE

AFFILIATION: THE SAWFLIES

HEIGHT: 5’51/2”

WEIGHT: 135 LBS

SOLD AS A SLAVE TO AMARII KEF’ARII 196224 HOURS AGO.”

The matrix was ruthless, spewing out words, each of which were like nails in Kara’s coffin. She thought she had been prepared for everything, but not this. There were Kryptonians that were matched with the other species throughout the years, but it was a rare occurrence, and it usually shocked the society deeply. She heard the happy cries of her parents stopping abruptly when they finally looked at the screen. 

They stood in silence, Kara holding her breath, afraid to turn around and see the faces of her parents. After a few long moments she finally tore her eyes off the cruel screen and looked at Alura and Zor-El, who stood behind her, silently clutching each other in an anxious embrace. They both looked baffled, shocked and horrified at the same time, both still clinging to each other as if it would ground them somehow. Her mother was first to come to her senses. She tore herself off Zor-El and walked towards the matrix, never taking her eyes off the screen. 

“Who is she?” - Alura asked tensely, pressing her lips in a thin line and looking at Kara with an unreadable expression.

“We brought her on The Exodus today for interrogation.” - Kara mumbled, still shocked by everything that was happening.

“She is a criminal?” - Alura watched Kara’s face like it might give her the answer of why her daughter was matched with a human from Megastructure.

“We don’t know for sure, mom. There was a robbery at the warehouse and Kryptonite was stolen, but it seems like she doesn't know anything about it and I tend to believe her.” - Kara answered sincerely, looking at her mother who seemed to go through all the stages of grief within a few seconds, though it looks like she paused at “the acceptance”. 

Kara exhaled in relief when she saw her mother’s face relaxing. Maybe everything happening is not too bad, Lena seems like a nice person and maybe if she is agreeable, Kara could try to work things out with her after she serves her term for her other petty robberies - maybe just a dozen years or so.

“So she is a criminal.” - Alura deadpanned suddenly, her face hardening and eyes becoming cold and ruthless. Kara had already seen her like this back on Krypton, when her mother had to choose who would leave the exploding planet and who would stay to die.

[kuroashims]

☠ CHRONICLES OF A BRAINROT ☠

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After many years simming in my corner, I finally decided to step out of my comfort zone and share my pixel babies with the simblr/tumblr sphere!

I started playing sims with the first opus when I was pretty tiny, and couldn't stop ever since. This game allows my creativity and inner world to express like no other game would, and that's what I love so much about it.

I created many different worlds, kingdoms and stories, but the one I enjoy the most is my One Piece save I started a year ago. It is the first time I am really eager to leave CAS to actually play the game!

Back in 2015 I've been introduced to the manga/anime universe and I never went back! It truly was a revelation, and a revolution in my own stories. But when I discovered One Piece, all of a sudden I was hooked. This universe is so colorful and deep at the same time, it is the safe place I go whenever I feel down, and it never fails me. It may sound silly but I can't explain how warm it makes me feel. Especially Luffy's vibe and laugh, he's so precious.

So last year when I had to stop working because of bad health issues, my last two brain cells met and said to each other "hey, why not One Piece sims?", and that was it, I began this crazy journey of looking for the perfect OP custom content for my babies, then being very disappointed in that matter...and that is when, after weeks and weeks of research, I decided to create my own One Piece custom content, because why not?!

I never touched Blender (and a year later I still feel such a newbie with it) nor Photoshop before, but it didn't stop me to throw myself into it and man, despite all the crying seeing my creations unexpectedly float in game or be filled with "???" in CAS and such, I can say that I don't regret anything!

I can sing on stage, write songs or dance, but can I properly draw? Hell no! And I've been frustrated for so long since I wanted to do fanarts for my fandoms but I didn't have the skills to do so. Fortunately simming is now one of my places of expression, and I'm genuinely so excited about my lil creations & stories.

My wish is to grow a small community of One Piece fans and/or fellow simmers with whom I could share my passions and enjoy theirs. I know you guys are out there, and I love you already!!

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➨ useful informations for navigation:

• Some of my posts may contain dark topics, blood and mature rp ships (18+)

• I'll do my best to limit spoilers but take note that there might me some here

• I am WCIF friendly but it might take a while for me to answer since I literally use thousands of cc. So please ask for 1 or 2 items at a time. I will happily share their names and creators

• I will not share any download links of my own OP custom content, because I often use other artist's meshes parts, then I mix them with my own etc ; so claiming these items as my own and share them to dl would break those artist's TOUs. Thank you for your comprehension

• That said, if I ever grow a significant sim community, I would eventually contact these artists one by one to ask their permissions to share my content with you! (with credits ofc)

• Aside from my sims I really enjoy editing some gifs and manga/anime panels by doing recolors etc, so you can expect to see a lot of them ♡ (and from time to time i also repost other people's artworks from other platforms with their prior permission)

• Don't be surprised if some of my sims seem really different from one screenshot to another, it is because I have different saves with different timelines (children, pre timeskip, post timeskip, Wano), plus various AUs like high school, dark fantasy world etc, and also a live action save! For example, by now I already have 9 different Sanji sims in several styles and stages of his life (my biggest number for a single character, but I can't help it...I just LOVE him)

• If there are any suggestions, requests, ships (personally into Zosan/Zolu/Lusan/Lawlu/Acesan/Shuggy/Mishanks/Frobin) and more that you would like to see, feel free to ask and I will enjoy making it happen for you!

• You can find me at @poppyxel which is the brand new simblr I created to share my passion for sims and gaming in general. No particular theme there just my chaotic inspiration expressing :)

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SO HERE WE ARE ☻

THANKS FOR READING...

HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY ✿❁❀

[biggerbetterbat]

WITH YOU| HIS REDEMPTION

Dary Dixon x OC!Charlie Reed

A/N: Hey! It’s a fast “special” chapter. With this occasion I would like to thank you so much for reading, liking, commenting, and reposting my work! <3

After Daryl saved Beth when the prison got overrun, their dynamic shifted from survival partners to a somewhat strained coexistence. Daryl, accustomed to solitude and self-reliance, found it challenging to adjust to Beth's presence. He was annoyed by her optimism and innocence, which seemed out of place in the harsh post-apocalyptic world. Beth's desire to maintain hope and find meaning grated against Daryl's more cynical outlook on life. Their differences often led to clashes and tension, as Daryl struggled to reconcile his rough exterior with Beth's more tender-hearted nature. Despite his annoyance, Daryl also found himself protective of Beth, recognizing her vulnerability in their dangerous surroundings. This internal conflict added another layer to their relationship as they navigated the complexities of survival together.

He wished he was in that situation with Charlie as it would make it all easier. She was already skilled with a bow, knew something about hunting, and was really good at killing Walkers. He wouldn't have to worry so much for two persons just like he had to do it right now.

Nights were the worst. Just like right now...

As Daryl huddled in the car with Beth, seeking shelter from the storm and the relentless threat of walkers being lurked by the noise, his thoughts drifted to Charlie. The memory of her lingered in his mind, a bittersweet reminder of the bond they had shared before the chaos of the world tore them apart. He tried to distract himself from the situation with remembering her bright smile and sense of humor.

Despite the danger surrounding them, Daryl couldn't shake the worry that gnawed at his heart, wondering if Charlie was out there somewhere, fighting to survive like they were. His feelings for her, once kept hidden beneath layers of gruff exterior, now surfaced with a painful intensity as he grappled with the uncertainty of her fate. As much as he wanted to see her one more time, he wished she was dead already instead of walking this Earth struggling.

As the storm raged on outside, Daryl found solace in Beth's presence, her quiet strength a source of comfort in the midst of chaos. But even as they sought refuge together, his thoughts kept drifting back to Charlie, his heart heavy with the ache of longing for her companionship once more. In the darkness of the car, surrounded by the howling wind and the distant moans of the walkers, Daryl silently prayed for Charlie's safety, hoping against hope that they would find each other again in this cruel and unforgiving world.

Life with Beth wasn't easy. She was a good girl and he started to like her; however, she still was Beth. Here he was, relying on a young girl like Beth for safety and support, a stark contrast to the image of strength and self-reliance he prided himself on. As they faced the dangers of the world together, Daryl couldn't help but feel a twinge of self-doubt, questioning his ability to protect them both. Beth's unwavering optimism and resilience only served to highlight his own insecurities, leaving him feeling out of place and, at times, downright pathetic.

For example now, they were searching for a drink. As in alcohol. Because Miss Goodie Two Shoes had never been drunk. They were risking their lives to find an alcohol...Merle was probably laughing at him from wherever he was.

"Found this place with Charlie during winter," he said stopping in front of the place. His heart swallowed once again in his chest.

Daryl and Charlie stumbled upon an old, weather-beaten shed nestled deep in the woods. Its wooden panels, once vibrant with paint, were now faded and worn, hinting at years of neglect. Vines crept up the sides, weaving through cracks and crevices, adding to its air of abandonment.

"I was expecting a liquor store."

"No, this is better."

The walls inside had patches of peeling paint revealing the raw wood beneath. Light filters through the cracks between the planks, casting uneven patterns on the dirt floor below. It was a mess inside. The only furniture that was somewhat usable was a big armchair and a table with only one chair.

After searching the place, Daryl poured some moonshine to the jar and placed in front of Beth. "That's a real first drink right there," he said, but saw the hesitation in her eyes. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she said. "It's just...my dad always said bad moonshine can make you go blind."

"Ain't nothing worth seeing out there anymore anyway," he mumbled.

Beth took a deep breath and drank from a glass and grimaced her face. "That's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted," then she reached over a jar with liquor. "Second round's better."

"Slow down," Daryl warned her.

"That's one for you."

"No, I'm good."

"Why?" Beth asked surprised.

"Someone's got to keep watch."

"So, what, you're like my chaperone now?"

"Just drink lots of water," he said and started working on covering the windows and locking the doors.

The life of many was strange after the turn as everything had changed. However, Daryl for the second time found himself in a room with a drunk girl that insist on playing some stupid drinking game. Did women couldn't just sit and drink?

"So first, I say something I've never done, and if you have done it, you drink," she said. "And if you haven't I drink. Then we switch."

"How do you know this game?"

"My friends played," Beth shrugged. "Okay, I'll start. I've never shot a crossbow. So now you drink."

"Ain't much of a game."

"That was a warm up," she whined. "Your turn."

He started biting his thumb nervously, feeling the pressure of her blue piercing eyes. "I've never been out of Georgia."

"Good one," she nodded her head. "I've never been drunk and done something I regreted."

"I've done a lot of things," he snorted humorlessly and drank from his cup. "I've never been on vacation."

"What about camping?"

"No, that was just something I had to learn...to hunt." he answered and the question threw him into a nostalgic mood.

"I've never been in jail," Beth happily chirped. "I mean, as a prisoner."

Daryl's face contorted with frustration as Beth's question pierced the air. He shot her a steely glare, his jaw clenching. "Is that what you think of me?" he growled, his tone laced with hurt and anger. Daryl felt his anger grew. Charlie would never ask him a question like that.

Beth recoiled, realizing her mistake too late. "I didn't mean anything serious. A drunk tank. Even mu dad got locked up for that back in the day."

"Mmm."

"Wait...prison guard. Were you a prison guard before?"

"No."

"It's your turn again," Beth said quietly, feeling that something was off.

"I'm gonna take a piss," he said and got up from the dirty floor.

"Don't be so loud," Beth said as she flinched from the man's actions. He was kicking whatever was lying on the ground, making hell of a noise.

"What, are you my chaperone now?!" he yelled as he turned, zipping the pants. "Oh, wait. It's my turn now!" he said ironically. "I've never, uh...never eaten frozen yogurt. Never had a pet pony! Never got nothing from Santa Claus! Never relied on anyone for protection before! Hell, I don't think I've relied on anyone for anything!"

"Daryl..."

"Never sung out in front of a big group! Like everything was fun! Like everything was a big game! I sure as hell never cut my wrists looking for attention!"

Snarling.

"Oh, sounds like our friend out there is trying to call all of his buddies!"

"Daryl, shut up!"

"You've never shot a crossbow before? I'm going to teach you right now!" he said and took Beth harshly by her arm, leading her out of the shed.

He walked out and started shooting at the walker, but not in his head. Daryl made out of the corpses breathing throwing dartboard. "Stop it!" Beth yelled and approached the dead and killed it with a swift movement of the knife.

"What the hell you do that for? I was having fun!" Daryl screamed in annoyance.

"No, you were being a jackass!" Beth started screaming, too. "If anyone found my dad..."

"Don't! That ain't remotely the same!"

"What would Charlie say if she was here?!" she asked, but her question was like a red cloth for a bull. It only made Dixon even angrier.

"But she's not! Cause she's dead!"

"Killing them is not supposed to be fun!"

"What do you want from me girl, huh?" Daryl asked.

"I want you to stop acting like you don't give a crap about anything! Like nothing we went through matters! Like none of the people we lost meant anything to you!"

"Because they didn't!" he pointed at her.

"It's bullshit!"

"Is that what you think?"

"That's what I know," she said. "I know that you love Charlie and you're being hurt right now."

"You know nothing!"

"I know you look at me and you see her," Beth almost whispered, knowing that she would once again tickle the nerve. "So stop treating me differently because I'm not like Michonne, or Maggie, or Carol. Because I survived! So don't treat me like crap because you're afraid!"

"I'm afraid of nothing..." he said. And it was the truth now as he lost every person he cared for.

I remember," she said. "On the highway. After the farm? When you thought Charlie was left there? You were like me. And now God forbid you ever let anybody get too close."

"Too close, huh?" he gasped, feeling the anger racing one more time. "You know all about that. You lost two boyfriends, you can't even shed a tear."

"But at least, I had someone!" she attacked him. "You were too scared to confess!"

"Maybe I would have!" he yelled. "But the Governor rolled right up to our gates! Maybe if I had followed her then...Maybe cause I let her go. That's on me. She died because of me! They all could have lived if I did something..."

Daryl and Beth sat in front of each other on utside the shed, the dim light casting shadows on their faces. The silence between them spoke volumes as they both wrestled with their demons, the weight of their experiences heavy in the air. Despite the darkness surrounding them, there was a glimmer of hope as they supported each other on the difficult journey toward sobriety.

"I'm a dick when I'm drunk," he said and smiled lightly, feeling guilty of his outburst before. "Why did you even wanted a drink so bad?"

"I know I shouldn't have ask you to risk your life for something so stupid. But I wanted to drink it. I wanted to know what it felt like. And..."

"Mmm?"

"I wanted this first drink because..." Beth said quietly. "Because back on the farm...Charlie said to me then..."

"What did she say?" Daryl asked curiously.

"She told me that I should do it before... before death," she said. "That I should experience everything I can while I still can."

"That's something she would definitely say," he nodded with a small smile, imagining how Charlie says it.

"Yeah," Beth smiled. "I've done everything but this. Just like she said. I wanted to drink, and I just felt like I needed to."

Daryl's expression softens, his eyes betraying a mixture of sorrow and longing. He misses Charlie deeply and struggles to contain his emotions, his throat tightening with unspoken grief. In that moment, Beth's revelation serves as a painful reminder of the people they've lost along the way, and Daryl's silent tears speak volumes about the weight of their shared losses.

"How did you guys find this place?" Beth asked.

"I was teaching her how to use a bow. How to hunt and...all," he shrugged.

"You miss her, don't you," Beth said rather asked. He said nothing. "I miss her too."

"Mm."

"Could you teach me? Just like you did to Charlie?" Beth asked.

"We will see," he answered, but something told Beth that he already made up his mind. So she smiled as bright as she could.

That night they burned the shed....

After days of wandering around, teaching Beth and just surviving, they found a place. During one of their teaching lessons , she got hurt by the hunter trap. That's why Daryl decided it was a right moment to find a quiet and safe place.

It was a house near the cemetery. It was an almost picturesque appearance despite the world's chaos around them. The front porch boasted a swing, weathered but sturdy, inviting weary travelers to take a moment's respite. The windows, though slightly dusty, hinted at the warmth and comfort within. Inside, the house was a time capsule of a bygone era, with vintage furniture and décor that seemed frozen in time. It was untouched.

Down in the basement was a mortgage and in one of the rooms stood a tomb with a body - the body was disposing; however, nothing suspicious was happening to it, so the man must have died before this madness began.

"I'm gonna leave a thank-you note," Beth said.

"Why?" he asked with furrowed eyebrows, turning his attention from the jar.

"For when they come back," she answered as it was the most obvious thing. "If they come back. Oh, whatever."

"Maybe you don't need to leave that," he said. "Maybe we stick around here for a while. They come back, we'll just make it work."

"So you do think there are still good people around. What changed your mind?"

"You know," he shrugged.

As Daryl and Beth heard the dog whining, Daryl's instincts kicked in, and he cautiously approached the source of the sound. With a heavy heart, he realized that the walkers had attacked and devoured the poor animal. Before he could react, the hungry undead turned their attention towards him, their rotten faces contorted into grotesque grimaces.

Thinking quickly, Daryl instructed Beth to run for safety as he drew his crossbow and engaged the approaching walkers. With precision honed from years of survival, he dispatched them one by one, the sound of the bowstring cutting through the air echoing in the eerie silence.

Despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Daryl couldn't shake the sense of loss for the innocent creature and the grim reminder of the dangers lurking in their world. As he fought off the walkers, his determination to protect Beth and himself burned ever stronger, fueling his resolve to survive another day in this unforgiving landscape.

As Daryl frantically ran from the approaching walkers, his heart pounding in his chest, his only purpose was to find Beth and leave the place behind. Panic ser in as he saw her belongings scattered on the ground, a chilling indication of her sudden disappearance.

With adrenaline coursing through his veins, Daryl's instinct was to find Beth at all costs. Hearing the distant rumble of an engine, he raced towards the sound, shouting her name into the emptiness of the desolate landscape. His cries were drowned out by the roar of the car as it sped away, leaving him behind in a cloud of dust and uncertainty.

Alone and desperate again. Daryl was consumed by a sense of helplessness and fear as he once more lost someone who became close to him. He obviously couldn't safe his family, his brother, Charlie, so Beth was supposed to be his redemption. With every fiber of his being, he vowed to track her down and bring her back, no matter the obstacles that lie ahead in his path.

But he didn't know where he should start. He was exhausted from the night, so with a grunt he dropped his crossbow and sat down. He started crying out of desperation and all emotions that accumulated in his body.

As Daryl's mind raced with thoughts of Beth's disappearance and the sense of helplessness that grope him, he found himself haunted by memories of Charlie, the loyal dog (I hate this line…) he once had by his side. In the midst of the chaos and uncertainty, the absence of his faithful companion weighted heavily on him, adding to his feelings of loneliness and vulnerability.

With a heavy heart, Daryl longed for the simple companionship and unwavering loyalty that Charlie provided, a reminder of the bond they shared in a world filled with turmoil. As he navigated the harsh realities of survival, the memory of Charlie served as a bittersweet reminder of the connections that sustain him in the darkest of times. Despite the pain of her absence, Daryl found solace in the memories of their time together, drawing strength from the enduring bond they forged amidst the chaos of their world.

Daryl Dixon was giving up.

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[togetherasone]

IMPERAPARTY . TERZO OR COPIA

Pairing: Terzo x Fem!Reader or Copia x Fem!Reader, you choose *wink wink*

Summary: The Ministry bustles with activity. The Impera Release Ritual has just finished and such a special occasion deserves a celebration. And, well... You aren't denying yourself a glass of wine. Nor the approach of someone. Or the one where you have fun with one of our beloved Papas!

Word count: 980

Notes: Oh, hello! This is a repost since I moved from an old to a new blog! Also, this is a "choose your adventure" fan fiction, so choose which Papa (or both, no one is stopping you!) you want to have fun with! I hope you enjoy! Keep in mind that English isn't my first language. Sorry in advance for any mistakes.

Warnings: There will be smut in any of the paths you choose, so, minors, don't overstep any boundaries. I can't stop you from reading this introduction since it doesn't have any mature content, but DON'T proceed any further. Please, this is for your own safety.

If you want to take a look at my other writings, here they are!

“Cut!” Sister Imperator shouted to the camera operators amongst the noise reverberating off the marble walls and echoing around the vast corridor of the Ministry. You stood almost beside her, two Sisters of Sin separated you from her, and you flinched slightly at the shout.

The IMPERA Release Ritual had just finished.

People clapped enthusiastically as soon as Papa Emeritus IV sang the last verse of "Spillways", one of the new songs that had grown on you lately, and the YouTube transmission was interrupted.

Copia maneuvered around the microphone stand and looked from side to side as he waited for the Ghouls to join him. They held their hands and bowed altogether. The dying round of applause sprang to life again. The noise, a mix between the round of applause and the hubbub, was almost unrearable, but you smiled at the band and continued to clap until they had dispersed.

Sound technicians unplugged instruments, and camera operators pulled cables as people slowly walked and chirpily talked. Men in fancy suits made a beeline for the improvised stage, moving in the opposite direction to the mass of people. You had never seen them around. Your eyes curiously followed them as you patiently waited on the spot you had occupied during the last hour for the Sisters of Sin around you to join the mass of people, which moved to the Great Hall, where the after party would be held.

Sister Imperator, as the men in fancy suits, made a beeline for the improvised stage. Because of her priviledged spot close to it, she needn't struggle with the mass of people. She ran towards Copia and swiftly grabbed his head between her hands, squishing his ears and kissing both of his cheeks. Her voice reached your ears, and she congratulated her "golden boy, C., I'm proud of you!".

When Copia saw the men in fancy suits approaching, he quickly disentagled himself from Sister Imperator. It was impossible to listen to their conversation. It must have lasted a minute. They shook hands with Copia and the Ghouls who caught the conversation in the middle, and that was that.

The Sisters of Sin around you started to move, and you followed them. The mass of people swarmed the Great Hall. Most of its furniture – lounge chairs, armchairs, sofas – had been reorganized around coffee tables by the walls, which were covered by dark wooden panels, except for the wall above the fireplace, which was covered by a mirror. Red candles burnt steadily on the mantelpiece of the fireplace. The intricate details carved on the golden frame of the mirror danced under their flickering light, which added a mysterious glow to its surroudings. A thurible had been placed between the candles and its smoke lazily floated in the air in round puffs.

The long wooden table around which the Sisters of Sin gathered for meals had been replaced by a round wooden table. It had been positioned exactly underneath the chandelier, and a tall crystal vase of roses had been positioned exactly in its middle. It was surrounded by golden trays of varied dishes, at which you salivated.

Standing wooden tables had been scattered across the room. People had already occupied most of them when you entered it. The air was thick. The smell of roses mixed with the steam rising from the dishes and the smoke rising from the thurible. The firewood burning in the fireplace maintained the room cozily warm.

You quietly observed the people. Your sisters, scattered around the room, talked, laughed, drank and ate. The ghost of Papa Emeritus Nihil, sat on an armchair by the fireplace and talked to Mr. Saltarian and other men, certainly Mr. Saltarian's guests. Primo and Secondo, gathered around a coffee table at the farthest corner of the room, played cards. They had managed to attract a small crowd.

"C'mon," one your sisters wrapped her fingers around your wrist and pulled you towards one of the console tables bearing golden trays of varied drinks. Crystals glasses had been filled to the brim with wine, champagne, and water. She grasped two glasses of wine and handed one to you. "Let's get the party started."

And it did. Three glasses of wine and one glass of champagne followed the first. Your stomach happily digested the food you had snatched from the golden trays on the round wooden table in the center of the room. The atmosphere had shifted as soon as alcohol invaded bloodstreams. The air was still thick. But, now, the smell of roses mixed with the sweat emanating from the drunk bodies and the scent of alcohol. But, now, the firewood burning in the fireplace maintained the room lustifully warm.

From an armchair beside Secondo, you hazily observed the people playing cards. The players alternated at each round and it had gotten interesting since a "new" rule – ahem, a rule that attended every party at The Ministry whenever people started to get drunk –, one which obligated the losers of the round to undress, one piece of clothing at a time. Two of your sisters had already lost their veil, their coif, their scapular, and their belt. Their tunic was the only piece of clothing hiding their sins.

A bunch of grapes rested on your left hand and you lazily ate it. The dizziness caused by the alcohol had started to wear off. Although a fourth glass of wine rested in front of you on the edge of the coffee table, it had been there for more than an hour. You pulled it to your lips and savoured another sip of wine along with some grapes.

"Oh, no!" one of your sisters mirthuflly exclaimed at one of the guests as he abandoned the cards in his hand on the coffee table.

Another round had ended. The crowd mercilessly teased him, for he would have to take his button-up shirt off, which would leave him shirtless.

Terzo pulled a couple of grapes from the bunch that rested on your hand.

Out the corner of your eyes, you observed Copia.

PLEASE, CONSIDER REBLOGGING THIS AND/OR GIVING ME FEEDBACK, I WOULD APPRECIATE IT A LOT!

[touyas-back-lover]

426...

I wrote this in the early hours of the morning and only stopped when it was past five in the morning and I was exhausted. I just let my emotions out with the new chapter and had no intention of it making sense or written in a beautiful way. English isn't even my language.

Look, I almost never write to post anywhere. Literally on no network. I limit myself to reposting and liking and commenting as a friendly fan of the content produced by Dabi/Touya fans and other things in my bubble. But I'm frozen in front of my cell phone. I saw the leaks here, and I stayed right here. Writing is the only way to comfort myself, but wanting to post…I don't know why I want this. I'm just obeying my desperation. And my page seems safe since it is surrounded by content that i repost from people who love Touya, and also by a place that belongs to Touya (I only created it to follow everything closely).

I'm sick to the point where I can't cry. Do not leave. But how much I needed it now, my God. My hope is that writing heals me like it usually does, because today I won't be able to count on Touya for that. His pain is pushing me towards mine.

I fall when I see Touya facing his own wounds and they throb in a cruel way. His weaknesses open. And nothing can protect Touya from his pain now. Not even Dabi. This distresses me.

I'm frozen in my place. To the point where I couldn't cry. And since it's dawn now, I can't attract anyone to my shit by dealing any other way.

I'll try to keep a little order. Part by part.

In the first line where he calls his father a coward, I cheered with my hand over my mouth. "Daammm, my boy lost his arms, but not his tongue!!" I laughed, I celebrated and it was a relief. It's already horrible for him to be confined in an almost vegetative state, but the real nightmare would be not being able to express himself at all. Seeing this rude and honest sentence cheered me up. My brave boy still has the strength to be rude on purpose. As the chapter progressed I became worried about the sound of the heart monitor. Having stronger beats highlighted on the panels. The reason? The requests from his mother and fuyumi saying that they wanted to talk to him more, that they had a lot of things to say. And even his father saying he would talk to him. Man, that was literally his last thought before being definitively neutralized by Shoto. "There are many things I want to say" A desire that he kept to himself but that is shared by them. It messed with him, And if it messes with him, I'm miserable. It's everything I wanted most. May everything that Touya wishes deep in his heart happen. But his own heart becomes unstable. When the doctor says that everyone should leave so as not to overload Touya's heart, I stopped working. He's feeling too much, again.

Oh no, stop this madness. His heart its crying

And without the blue flames to extend their emotions, they take everything out on the heart held by cables. How can I counter this??? And then comes Shoto, willing to ask the simplest question to complete his mission to save Touya. And Touya replied. made a small, genuine connection. And it means that at that moment, Touya was not alone. It's all cruel with Touya. And he fought so hard. And so, the likely last panel I see of him is a redemption. He cries, but there is no blood. These are normal tears. The kind that hasn't been on his face in so long. "I'm sorry, Shoto" My head spun with what could have been going through his head.

I looked forward to Touya apologizing to his mother and the others like he desperately wanted as soon as he woke up from the coma (we even had this episode a few days ago and it's all painfully fresh). He sought this by running barefoot. I wanted him to hear an apology and also ask to get rid of his burdens. and feel peace. But seeing it for real, out loud directed at Shoto made the melancholy that was already installed to think why. He and Shoto don't have many memories together. So what thoughts does he have about his brother? I'm on the floor with his commotion. How hurt his voice must have been, apologizing like that. At 13y, in that conversation with Natsuo, he still felt guilty for having attacked Shoto when he was 8y, perhaps remembering the fight against Shoto made him remember this old guilt and feed it since he attacked him again in the war. Touya, from a young age, concluded that there was nothing wrong with Shoto, the boy was innocent, but he still lost control and kept trying to reach the same level of power. He didn't see shoto as a person, he saw what shoto represented. A project capable of replacing its existence. He lost his mind when he was 8 years old because he was so scared, and then the fight in the war, in addition to the confrontation after the dabi dance. And Touya knows all this. Who took everything out on the boy again. Since if he could have seen Shoto as a person, they could share a good portion of soba. He returned to the regret he already had when he was still little. And with his heart on the monitor beating loudly he let his excuses come out . Perhaps the reason he cried was the same reason people cry when they are rescued. Touya went too far. He pushed his life to fall off a cliff. He destroyed his own body to activate all his power, almost exploded himself and a 5km radius, destroyed his own arm with a punch, mentally regressed until he spoke like a child, and after 25 years of existence he awakened ice… Touya cut off his own exits, his own escape routes, he made himself someone impossible to save. If he had already felt unwanted in his time of innocence, now with crimes deliberately in his name and his plan to expose everything completely, there would only be repulsion. And yet it was achieved. For the family in those chapters of Gunga, being taken from the brink of death, and now for Shoto wanting to know him for what he likes to eat regardless of being wronged by him. Save even if “unsalvageable”. That boy who died too soon, saying he still wanted to live, continued to exist beneath the man who was looking for a good place to die among the villains, because when no one comes to his rescue, all that's left is death.

What will become of him now? I can't rest without seeing him at peace. Is no one going to hug him? And won't the bowl of soba come to comfort you? and the conversations about everything that happened when they were apart? He needs to know that things only got worse after he died not because his existence didn't matter, but because it was so tragic that they got sick, and sick people only get worse every day. And they need to know what it was like for Touya the days he trained alone to buy back his own value for existing, how upset he was to lose control and agonize in flames on the day in sekoto, how scary it was to wake up from the coma and how His heart broke because he cared too much about being accepted by each member of his family. The apology he wanted to say when he first survived, how his mother was the first person he thought of saying it to. Won't Touya know how Endeavor's life passed through his eyes when ice appeared on his chest? I know, this will all be implicit, but nothing guarantees that your last days of life will be worth it to conclude all the high points, misunderstandings, strong emotions and traumas. Without forgetting any. Nothing guarantees me. And my God, why did they leave him crying alone?? No, no, no, no.. enough. Turn around and go back until he stops! It's just hell after hell. But I can't see him paying for it. Please be happy again, my baby Shoto, go back to your brother now, he needs a friend like you. And those scars on everyone made by Touya…he manufactured a memory so that he will not be forgotten in any way. I will not forget you either, angel.

Touya dying was painful. I wish Touya being reborn wasn't painful too. But it's hell.