#suspense writing

[dearestaeneas]

Bite

You’re hungry.

It’s okay. You’ve been hungry before.

You’ll be hungry again.

It won’t last long. You know that much.

It’s cool today. There’s a breeze that doesn’t bite so much as nibble. That won’t last long, either. In just a few short hours, that coolness will turn to something not too unlike frost. There’s rain coming tonight.

There’s rain coming tonight, and you’re hungry.

All in all, not the worst situation to be in.

So you prowl. The underbrush doesn’t so much as crunch under the pads of your feet. You move as a mountain, the muscles in your shoulders flexing with each step. You hear the distant sound of hooves: twigs snap, leaves rustle, branches bend. They’d be scared of you, if they knew what that shape so far from them really was.

You don’t know why, though. You’re of no threat to them. Sure, sometimes you’re desperate. Who isn’t? That’s not your fault. To an outsider, this distinction wouldn’t be large enough to matter, but you know, and the deer know. It’s different.

Your stomach growls, a rumble that your throat replicates. You cannot mask your hunger, but you can at least remind the world that your hunger is a threat. It is too bright out, despite the canopy of trees above your head and the gray sky above that.

Leaves brush against your back. If you’re moving, they’ll see you. Best to lay for a while. They fear you in a way the deer do not. Perhaps it has to do with the deer sharing your home. They’re family, in a way.

This is close enough, you think to yourself. The earth bends here for you, under your weight. Your nose runs parallel to your legs, and you let out a humph! of a sigh as you wait.

As you sleep, the world begins to darken. It is not customary to sleep so in the open, but who will challenge you? Who will attempt to teach you a lesson for this deviancy?

You snored, although you did not know it. It was a deep and rumbling tone, more a feeling than a sound. They heard it for miles. You shook the world. As far as anyone could tell, you were the world.

The rain woke you, and how dare it. Droplets spattered on your nose. You yawned then, great jaws extending wider and wider. The sneeze that follows after you lick your lips surprises even you as you stand suddenly against unseen predators. There are no predators, of course. There never are.

There never will be.

Your tail wags as you lay down, and it thumps against the ground, reverberating through the trees. If there were any birds left in the trees after your sneeze, they were gone now.

You don’t mind the waiting. Even with the pain in your stomach, you’re still home. You’re comfortable and safe and soon, will be fed.

You hear them before you see them, obviously. Their feet stomp along the trail, which had been pounded into the earth by so many before them. Of course, some simply had to make it through, otherwise the trail wouldn’t be such a viable source. They’re bickering, as they often are at this hour. You smile. Your great tongue hangs from your mouth. Your breathing is louder then, but beneath the rain and the other sounds of the forest, who would really notice it?

“I told you the rain was going to start sooner than you thought,” one of them says.

“It’s not coming down too hard yet,” the other replies sheepishly. “And we’re too far to turn back now.”

You don’t understand what these words mean. You’ve heard conversations that sounded similar enough before, and all of those had been just as inconsequential as this one.

They do not see your massive form for what it is, and how could they? You tower, creating a hill of your own. The canopy will always protect you, but few will ever come as close to you when they stand and look to the heavens.

“It’s not even dark yet,” the sheep says.

“The trees are getting thicker,” comes the uneasy reply.

You stretch. Your paws snap a sapling some feet away with their weight.

Frozen silence.

Minutes pass. This moment alone is so delicious it nearly fills your stomach.

Then, one set of quick steps. “I want to go home,” the voice says. It already sounds a little farther away.

“You’re being dramatic,” is the annoyed response.

“You said we had about a mile and a half, right? I’m not taking this at a leisurely pace anymore.”

“I’m not going any faster.”

“Then get home alone.”

It is a rare joy when they separate. You don’t mind chasing after one, you don’t even mind losing one.

You study the movement of the bodies before you. The gap between them extends wider and wider.

You sniff. By now you have stopped smiling, eyes keenly following the furthest body. Its pace has accelerated greatly, and it periodically calls back: “Hurry up!”

The other body is slow, strolling as a tourist. “You’re afraid of everything!”

If they were to run, as the first body now is, they would cover the nearly two mile trek in about 20 minutes. It would not take you even a fraction of that. But the second body does not follow the first’s example.

The first body is now too far for the second to hear its calls, but you can hear them. They are more of the same. The feet never stop pounding.

You stand then. The landscape shifts with your form, and the lowest branches of the trees above you shift at the touch of your back. The body hesitates at this sound. Although the sapling had sounded much like a distant shot from a hunter’s gun, this disturbance resembled something creaking, something ancient.

“Hello?” They sound so small. Why have they stopped moving? The rain is still somewhat light, pattering gently. They are mostly protected from the elements, though the remaining light is fading fast. If they were to look, they would only see a shadow’s shadow, although there would likely be an acute awareness that the hill that had been beside their path for so long was now gone.

It wasn’t fun when it was too easy.

Your stomach grumbles as if in response. You had debated how best to remind the body before you that they were not home, and your own body had answered. The sheep gasped, and there was a panting that followed as their gait increased. They were slow. Their breathing sounded pained, their anxiety rising at a disproportionate rate and slowing the rest of their body.

You watch with curiosity. They move as if injured. You pad along beside them in silence. Eventually their breathing evens. Their pace remains somewhat faster, although it appears something in them has calmed. They are humming, quietly.

Several moments pass before you step closer to the trail. You inch your way toward them, some paces behind, until only a thin layer of forest separates you from the body.

Their eyes are forward, and as alert as they could be in the darkness. Eventually you will break the wall of greenery that separates you. The body is visibly on edge, aware of you without admitting it to itself.

Until it stops.

“Please make it quick,” the body says. Its voice is even, although quiet.

You stop. A puff of an exhale escapes your nostrils. The body had heard.

This is better than you could have imagined. You sit then, almost expectant. Your eyes are bright and intelligent, yellow in the darkness.

The body steps closer to the woods.

Your tail begins to wag, and it swishes in the forest behind you. Twigs and fallen leaves swirl. The wagging increases in intensity until the body freezes. The delight coursing through your massive body is unparalleled.

The body steps away from the forest. You can no longer contain yourself.

You step slowly onto the trail behind the body. Your massive paws straddle it. The body stares up at you, eyes wide and face pale. You slowly tilt your head down, nose only a foot or two away. They do not move.

You begin to sniff them, taking in the sweat and fear their body releases. Perhaps they are comforted by this. They slowly reach a shaking hand up, and you lower further to meet the distance. The tiny palm touches your cold, wet nose.

The body lets out something like a laugh, lets out something like relief and something not too far from hesitant joy.

You bite.

The body screams, clutching at its mangled arm with its only full one. The blood drips onto the soil. It begins to run, and you sit.

You are patient. You chew thoughtfully, though you barely chew at all. All the while your tail wags.

The body stumbles away in a sprint, emitting a hoarse screaming sob.

By now the second body is nearly gone from the wood, if not completely free. You follow, trying to appear as if you were giving chase. The body looks over the shoulder of its injured arm and sees you follow, sees the way your tongue hangs from your open mouth, hears your tail slam against trunk after trunk.

If you had been smaller, they might have had more appreciation for how beautiful the scene they witnessed was.

There is beauty in everything. There is beauty in your teeth, in your fur, in the way blood drips like rubies from your jaws.

There is beauty in the body’s eyes, the way the little brown dots appear so small in a sea of white. There is beauty in the way the body twists to cradle itself.

Your jaws snap at the body a second time, failing to tear the meat once more. This is on purpose. A wetness blossoms from the shoulder, accompanied by another cry.

The meat is stumbling now, feet catching on one another until finally it falls. There is a sticky trail behind it that your paws have passed through. The fur between your paw pads is matted with it.

It cries. It twists to face you. You are confused by this: so often does meat turn from you, so often does it refuse to face the beauty of nature.

Like the deer, perhaps this meat understands that the act itself is not borne of malice or hatred.

Do you feel a pang of regret for taunting it so?

No. Nature plays games. To play is to live is to eat.

You are quick with your meal. That, at least, is a conscious decision.

You have taken it back into the depths of the woods, and once finished, you lick your paws.

It is fully dark now.

The pain in your stomach has finally subsided.

[enchantingepics]

Story Prompt 47

In a dimly lit alley, obscured by the shadows of towering buildings, two figures stood locked in a tense confrontation. The air crackled with palpable hostility as they exchanged heated words, their voices carrying the weight of unresolved grievances.

"You think you can just walk away from this? You owe me, and you damn well know it!" spat one, his voice thick with anger.

The other, his features twisted in defiance, retorted, "I owe you nothing! You brought this upon yourself, and now you'll face the consequences."

With a sudden lunge, the first figure lunged forward, brandishing a gleaming knife in hand. The glint of steel reflected in his eyes as he made his intentions clear. In a swift and brutal motion, he began to rain down blows upon the other figure, the sound of flesh meeting steel echoing through the desolate alley.

"Stop! Please, stop!" cried the second figure, desperation tainting their voice as they attempted to fend off the relentless assault.

But the first figure was unrelenting, driven by a fervor that bordered on madness. Each stab was delivered with a savage intensity, fueled by a potent mixture of rage and vengeance.

"Too late for begging now," snarled the attacker, his voice cold and devoid of remorse. "You brought this upon yourself."

As the violence reached its crescendo, the alley was consumed by an eerie silence, broken only by the labored breaths of the wounded figure. In the dim light, the assailant's face contorted with a mixture of triumph and malice, his hands stained crimson with the evidence of his brutality.

And as the echoes of their confrontation faded into the night, a chilling realization dawned upon the wounded figure – in this unforgiving world, survival often came at a steep price, and sometimes, that price was paid in blood.

[authortoberecognized]

WRITER’S FORUM  SUSPENSE WRITING

WEBSITES HELPFUL TO WRITERS This is a series of posts which, I think, will be beneficial to writers. But first, I would like to include my usual warning about using websites. Whenever you check a website you are, in my opinion and I talk from experience, being put on a list for sale. So, expect the possibility of being bombarded by ads from companies you, perhaps, have never heard of and have…

[chaoticallyfluffy]

Shazam identity reveal AU where the league knew Captain Marvel was a child named Billy since day one but he stubbornly refuses to transform or tell his full name for the whole 4 years he’s been on the team and everyone’s so confused because they know like. 95% of his identity already why is he hiding this specific part?

They start thinking he’s some kind of criminal or had a dark past he’s hiding from them. They know so much about him, though. They know he’s homeless, they know he’s had bad foster homes, they know his parents died tragically and his uncle stole his inheritance. he shares everything. Everything except the one thing that would show he truly trusts them. Why? What have they done to convince him they weren’t trustworthy?

Then. He accidentally transforms back during a battle. Batman instantly scans his face with the facial scanner that’s built into his mask because he’s paranoid as hell of course he has one of those. And he sees exactly why he hid it for so long.

The tension in the air is so palpable that the entire league feels it and they look back and forth between them waiting for the bomb to drop.

Cyborg is the one who blurts it out (he IS a facial scanner)

“Your last name is BAT SON??”

Billy groans into his hands in defeat and Batman sighs, finally understanding why the secret was kept so desperately.

From then on the league refuses to call Billy anything other than Big Red Robin or just Big Robin. Robin but big. they call Batman Captain Dad at every possible opportunity. Whenever Billy does something wrong someone threatens to tell his dad on him then call Batman. The robins last names may as well not exist because from then on they are only ever called Damian Bat-son or Red Hood Bat-son or Stephanie Bat-daughter, except for Red Robin who’s called Little Red Robin or, if they’re feeling brave, the Little Red Cheese. The bat children and Billy’s nicknames become so confusing and meshed together that conversations get very confusing and the names just become interchangeable. The press is convinced that Captain Marvel is Batman’s secret love child within a week.

It gets so chaotic so fast, no one knows how this happened but names mean nothing anymore and Batman is getting a DNA test. So much opportunity for chaos!

[thilsiktonix]

small little doodle page for you @niceguyanonymous !!!!!

((I tried my best, I'm not a very good writer, but I hope you like it <33 sorry I didn't put too much detail into this one, I wasn't sure how exactly to interpret it!))

[going2hell4everythingbutbeingbi]

btw if you write a teen character with any kind of powers they better do some dumb shit with those powers or I'm unsuspending my disbelief

[suspensefulpen]

Darling is such a powerful word to me

Imo you use that word for someone you are truly, deeply in love with. This person is your world, your everything, you can’t live without them.

On the other hand, you use that word for someone you’re extremely possessive of. You call someone that and they’re yours for all of eternity, whether they like it or not. No one else can have them because they’re yours if they know or not is completely irrelevant.

Now, imagine Whumpee being called that by both Caretaker and Whumper…

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt#148 Part 2

Danny feels himself grow bright red and the two stare into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. 

“I- Uh… I’m Danny” He finally managed to mutter. 

“Damian Wayne, its a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Danny's blush grew even brighter as the next moment Damian kissed his hand, Danny couldn’t help but feel flustered. 

After a moment  Danny rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and stuttered out, “It’s nice, to meet you too” He could tell how happy Damian was to meet him and he felt a little bad for feeling nervous in the first place. Danny thought Damian was cute and he decided then that he wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better. First they had to get through the rest of the gala, and soon as he thought about the gala something clicked. 

He realized Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne who at the moment was talking to his own parents. He couldn’t help but stare as he let the information sink in. 

“Ah yes it looks like Father is talking to some of the scientists that were invited.” Ancients, Danny knew his parents couldn’t help being themselves and unfortunately that meant things like accidentally spilling fudge right onto Mr. Wayne's suite. They watched as Mr. Wayne told his parents it wasn’t a problem and then walked out of the room. 

Danny couldn’t help but sigh, “Sorry about them, my parents are a little eccentric. Don’t even get me started on their obsession with ghosts, my dad will not shut up sometimes.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck nervously again as he realized he was rambling a little bit. 

“Don’t worry it looks like Father handled the situation well, although I am curious what kind of inventions two scientists obsessed with ghosts create. That’s what this gala is about, we want to support scientists in untapped fields of study.” Danny listened as his soulmate explained things to him. 

Danny looked over to see Vlad talking to a thin scientist in the corner of the room. He was definitely up to something, a ball like this had Vlad scheming something with a mad scientist written all over it. 

He was brought out from his thoughts as a loud crash could be heard as the wall across the room burst open and none other than the Joker walked through.

Danny tried to make his way to the other side of the gala, strangely Damian had disappeared but Danny didn’t have the time to look for him.  

However when he got to the door staying low to the ground the door burst through and more of Joker's goons looked straight at him and he found himself tied up right in front of the Joker. 

“What do we have here? A new Wayne?” Joker said as he cupped Danny's face in his hand. Danny couldn’t do anything about the situation and he was getting a little scared considering he didn’t have a proper way to go ghost or protect his soulmate at the moment. 

The Joker circled around the tied up hostages laughing, “Of course now the fun begins”

The Joker continued to circle around the hostages thinking for a moment before he grabbed Danny.

He held Danny by the back of the shirt like a small kitten. His obsession was making him wonder if his soulmate was safe living in Gotham. Joker chuckled as he continued to hold Danny.

“This kid will be an example for the rest of you, I don’t want any outbursts like that again, especially when Batman gets here. Do you think Batman will like what I’ve done with the place?” He asked as he gestured around the ruined room. All of the tables and chairs had either been broken or knocked over and all of the food from the dessert and appetizer tables. It was quite the mess. Before Joker could do much else with the teen he had dangling in his grasp something flew out and smacked Joker right in the back of the head causing him to drop Danny.

Danny took that opportunity to get away, his hands may have been tied but his feet were sure free. He stumbled away as Batman dropped down and a fight between him and the Joker commenced. 

Danny ran towards the door and as he got there Robin and Nightwing were there ushering some of the other hostages out of the room. 

“Right this way citizens!” Nightwing said brightly at them but he seemed to brighten up a bit more when he saw Danny weirdly. 

“Have either of you seen Damian Wayne?” Danny asked, he at least wanted to get his number, especially when he was headed back to Amity soon.

They seemed to share a look before looking back at him, “Damian left, he’s headed safely back to Wayne manor.” Robin said but he held out a piece of paper. On it was Damians signature and his phone number. Danny sighed a little annoyed he had left but he guessed it was common to head back home after a rogue attack in Gotham. 

“Danny!!” the booming voice of Jack Fenton was suddenly heard and Danny felt himself getting pulled into a very familiar bear hug. 

“Did you have fun at the gala? Your father and I saw you talking to Mr. Wayne's son,” His mother said after his feet were back on the ground. 

“Yeah, actually can we talk about that after we’re back in our room?” He wanted to tell his parents he found his soulmate but saying that outloud when Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne sounded like a bad idea. 

They headed back to the hotel room and all Danny could think about was how lucky he was to have met his soulmate tonight, even if he was nervous about everything.

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[thecuriousbeauty]

Traitor- The Present

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Synopsis:y/n is a hard working painter, trying to make the ends meet. She lives with and takes care of her sick Uncle, the only one she has for a family. She has dreams to make it big, and when the desperation for money strikes, she has to make a choice. Walk away after listening to an incredible deal that would fix all her problems, or take up the deal. A top secret, risky deal, which involves meeting Harry Styles.A man once rumored to be a dangerous secret weapon of a leading mafia. artist!y/n x mafia!harry (he's also a doctor)

Word limit: 5,021

Warnings: Smut. Fingering, dirty talk, exhibitionism, choking, light degradation.

Author's note: Thank you so much for all your love on the last part. If you guys want me to add your names to my tag list, just drop me a message! Feedback is appreciated, and please re blog to support me. Happy reading:)

____________________________________________

"I swear there's no one on the planet that makes better sandwiches than you, Harry."

Harry and y/n were enjoying a picnic in the park, complete with ham and cheese sandwiches (cut in triangles, per her request), fruit salad, and cookies they had baked together the night before. Much to both of their delight, the park was nearly empty aside from a few toddlers playing in the jungle gym with their mothers.

Or so they thought.

"What are you doing tonight?", Harry asks her, enjoying the fresh air as he leaned against the tree, with his arm around y/n. Her back was towards his chest, and she was looking up at him.

"Oh I have to talk to a client, who wants to buy one of my paintings.", she lies. She had a meeting with Romania tonight.

"After that?", Harry drawls, kissing her neck.

"I promised Uncle Luke we would play pictionary today!", she says, as his lips hum against the pulse point of her neck.

"You can't get enough of me, can you?", she teases.

"No.", he agrees, stroking her hair between his fingers. "I would spend every minute of the day with you if I could."

"I would get bored.", y/n says playfully, and Harry growls, tightening his grip around her waist making her giggle. "I'll remember that the next time we're in bed.", he whispers in her ear, making her blush.

Then she saw them. Three men surrounded different areas of the park. All three of them were looking at them. y/n suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Um, Harry?"

"Hm?"

"I think we should pack up and head home. I'll run late for my meeting with the client.", she says, squeezing his arm gently.

"Already?", he asks, pulling away from her neck and she nods. "I'll spend the night with you tomorrow, okay?"

His face turns into a cute pout, and she wonders how people in his past were intimidated by that face. "Okay. You'll have to make it up to me, baby."

"I will.", she promises, starting to pack everything up. They finished packing their snacks, took their picnic blanket, and y/n took Harry's hand tight in hers, keeping her eyes on the men as they walked to her car.

She drove away soon. "Why don't you drive Harry?", she asks.

"I don't like driving.", he simply says.

"Why is that? Did you have a really bad accident?", she hints.

"Uh...maybe, I don't know. I don't enjoy it. I like walking, and the hospital's close from my house.", he shrugs, looking outside the window. He looked so innocent to y/n.

She drops Harry, before leaving. She had a bad feeling, and she grabbed his hand before he could go. She had already scanned the place to see if the men had followed her, but they hadn't.

"Harry, be careful, yeah?", she says, worried.

"Yeah, why?", he strokes her cheek, noticing that something's bothering her.

"The world is not a good place.", she squeezes his hand. "Lock your doors, okay?"

"I will..are you sure you're okay?"

She smiles, bringing his hand to her lips to kiss it. "I'm okay. I'll see you tomorrow, Harry."

Harry nods, kissing her forehead. "Remember I'm here if you need to talk about something."

The guilt storm hits her hard again, and she nods. "Thank you. I gotta go now."

"Yeah. See you, sunshine."

She had to do it. She had to tell Romania that this has to stop. She got to the building, took the elevator, waited impatiently for it to open and Hans greets her at the door.

"Ah, in time today Miss y/l/n", he remarks, looking at his watch.

"I'm not always late.", y/n mumbles and he chuckles, stepping aside. "Come in."

Romania sat on the couch as usual, and y/n wonders if she gets up from there once in a while. Oliver was not standing, for a change. He was sitting on the seat next to the one that y/n usually occupies when she's here.

"Good evening, y/n.", Romania gives her a smile and Oliver ignores her, classic Oliver.

"Hi.", y/n nods, taking her seat.

"Anything stronger than water?", Hans asks her, cocking an eyebrow.

"No, just water. Thanks.", y/n says to him. She didn't want to drink with people who plot to kill other people who got into tragic accidents and lost their memory.

"So? What are your updates this week?", Romania asks her, keeping one of her lean legs over the other and looking at her with interest. Oliver turns her head to look at her, and Hans keeps her water in front of her before sitting on the table he usually leans on.

y/n got talking. She told them everything she found out and didn't. She told them about the ring as well.

"So he's still holding on to that.", Romania smiled. "That's a great break through, y/n."

"Was that Reagen's?", y/n guesses.

"Yes. She didn't know, but Harry was planning to propose to her after that night. After their last mission. Diamond ring, silver beading, wasn't it?"

y/n nods. Romania looks at Hans for confirmation who nodded. "That's the one."

"That means some part of him still isn't ready to let go of Reagen.", Romania says. "Or it was a slip of the mask. He wasn't expecting you to search his room and find the ring. He could easily lie to you, like he probably has numerous times now. Whatever is necessary to keep his identity secret."

"I really think you're wrong, Romania.", y/n says softly. "And I'm sorry that you all lost your friend, but he's no longer in there, if he ever was. The Harry I know is a kind person. He isn't capable of hurting anyone."

"You've fallen for him, haven't you?", Romania sighs. "You're in love and you've been sleeping with him."

Was it love? A fire ignited in her chest whenever she thought about him. Her whole body tingled when he touched her. She wanted to go home to him every day. Was that love? y/n didn't know. She hasn't been in love before.

"I heard he was good in bed.", Hans says, nodding. "Lot of girls wanted to get laid but he only ever had eyes for Reagen."

"He trusts you," Oliver says. "You've gained his trust, y/n. This week, you really have to destroy his walls and get him to remember everything. You don't understand. We need him. His life is in danger if keeps his act going on any longer."

"I-I'll take him somewhere safe, where no one can hurt him.", y/n whispers, then thought about how dumb that sounded.

Romania scoffed. "We have men everywhere, y/n. You have no idea how big we are. You're lucky it's just the three of us talking to you."

"I've seen guys following us, looking at us weirdly. Are they your men?"

"Maybe, maybe not.", Hans shrugs. "Can be enemies plotting his death. Too scared to come any closer to him. They were all terrified of Harry once they got to know he was our secret weapon."

"W-Why do people have to be so terrified of him?", she couldn't help but ask the same question she asked last meeting.

"He is not the man you think he is."Oliver spoke slowly, like he was warning her. "Take his fondness towards you as leverage and find out what we need. Do your job and let us worry about protecting him, okay?"

"You have time till seven days, and I have a plan.", Romania tells her. "Do it as I say, and you'll be done. You'll be free to do as you please, whether he remembers or not."

"B-But I can't just leave him-"

"That's your fault, getting romantically involved with him."

Yes. It was her fault. y/n nods, finishing the entire glass of water. "Tell me your plan."

"Road trip.", she says, clapping her hands together.

"That's your great plan?", y/n asks confused.

"Hans.", Romania said and Hans spread out a map on the table. "Reagen and Harry were smuggling gold from San Francisco to New Mexico, on road.", he says, pointing at the places on the map.

"From here.", y/n spoke softly, and they nodded. She lived outside the city, in a small town near San Francisco, but the nearest city to her is Dan Francisco. 

"It's a sixteen hour road trip. It'll take you two days if you cover 8 hours every day. Four days if you cover four hours every day. The choice is yours. But we need Harry here by the end of this week." Hans pointed to a place near the border. It wasn't Mexico yet.

"This was where the blast took place. Where Reagen died, and where Harry lost his memory. We want you to take him through the same route they took on their last journey together. We're confident Harry will remember something, if not everything."

"You want me to bring him to the same place he lost his past life..to see if the place brings back his memories?", y/n put it together.

"Precisely.", Romania nods. "Now what you want to do in those four days is not my concern. Get a room, go to a party, go to the beach, go to a movie. I don't care. But I need Harry's memories back. Traveling on this route, a route he has taken many times before, has to be the key."

It was a good plan if it works. "And if he remembers?"

"Leave the rest to us.", Oliver says, and y/n buries her head in her hands as she thinks. "Is there another option?"

"This is our best option y/n.", Hans speaks softly. "Our last hope. You can make it happen."

Just one more week and she can put all this behind her. Of course she knew that wasn't possible as she is now involved in Harry's life, but if at all he remembers, even a glimpse of who he used to be, no one can hurt him. They'll all be scared. Things might change between y/n and Harry, but at least he'd be safe, she thought. Yes, she had to make him remember.

"Road trip it is, then."

_____________________________________________________________

Harry sits on his bed, watching as y/n sorts through his wardrobe. "Do you have anything other than these formal shirts?", she asks, finding only more and more of single colored shirts.

"No. That's all I need.", Harry shrugs. "You don't like them?"

y/n turns to smile at him, and walks to him. "I love them, Harry. But for our trip, you definitely need more. I'm gonna take you shopping."

"I don't like shopping..", Harry mumbles, grabbing her hips and pulling her in between his legs. His thumbs draw circles on her skin that's exposed. y/n was wearing a crop top and shorts. "Can I not just love on you for the entire day?", he asks, kissing her neck and y/n feels his soft hair as she moves her hand to play with his hair.

"As much as I would love that..", y/n kisses his lips, making him smile. "You are in dire need of new clothes." She squeaks as Harry pulls her onto his lap. "We can have our fun later."

"The kind of fun we like?", he asks, moving her hair back to expose her neck, attaching his lips to her soft skin.

"Uh huh.", y/n sucks in a breath, twisting a curl around his finger. "Why can't your friend just drive the car back herself?", he asks.

y/n had made up a story to tell Harry about the road trip to Mexico. It had to be convincing. Romania gave her that story as well. She had to say that it was her friend's, and her cousin had driven to San Francisco last time he was here but he took the flight back, so the car was still with her. Now he needed it back, and he was too busy to come here himself.

"Cause she's busy. I owe her one.", y/n says, feeling horrible to lie to him, but she had no option. She would get him on the road, and try her best to make him recollect his memories. If he didn't remember, she would tell him the truth before the week ended. She wouldn't let him get killed. He might leave her when she tells him the truth but it's better than him dying. She could live with regret, but she couldn't, knowing that she helped someone with murder.

"And you need a trip. You've been working non stop, everyone needs a break.", y/n kisses his jaw, and Harry smiles, "I don't need breaks, I love work. The only reason I agreed is because of you."

"You can't say no to me, can you?", y/n pats his cheeks.

"You're cute.", he chuckles, before lifting her off his lap and standing on his feet. "Let's go."

y/n took Harry shopping, and he just stood there like one of the mannequins themselves, while y/n sorted through the clothes. He seemed to be enjoying looking at her, rather than the different collection of clothes.

"Here, try these on. There's the trial room.", y/n says as she places a pile of shirts onto Harry's hands.

"Um, okay." Harry walks to the trial rooms, and y/n chuckles to herself. He was so adorable and innocent. y/n even tried google searching about him, but she didn't find much. She wanted to know why people were scared of him. She wished she could talk to Reagen. She was the only person not afraid of him, and who was closest to him.

“How’s this?”

y/n gives Harry a once over, as he poses for her in a floral shirt.He hadn’t done all the buttons up, and she could see half of his butterfly tattoo.

 She bites her lip, nodding. “Get it.”

Harry looks around, before reaching a hand to tug her into the trial room. “Harry! What if people see?”

“There’s no one around, love.”, Harry pins her to the wall, trapping her with his large frame. “Are you getting worked up?”

“No..”, she lies, breathing heavily as he leans closer, his breath fanning over her face. “No?”, he smirks, pressing her lips onto her hers, and biting her bottom lip. She opens her mouth to let his tongue inside, and lets him explore her mouth. Harry’s knee comes in between her legs, separating them. One hand holds her hip while the other slips up her thigh, to her core. 

She clenches her thighs immediately, and he pinches her thigh. “Keep them open. Let me see for myself if you’re wet.”

She plays with the curls on the back of his head, and grips his shoulder as he parts her panties and runs a finger through her sleek wet folds. 

“Ah hah, looks like someone was lying.”

“Harry stop..t-they’ll hear us..”, she whispers, fighting back a moan as he slips one finger inside her. She was wearing a skirt, so he had easy access. 

“You’ll just have to be quiet then, baby.”, he hums, adding another finger and pumping them in and out of her slowly, in a dangerously slow pace. “Should I let you cum? You lied to me.”

“Y-Yes, please..”, she whimpers, starting to ride his fingers because he wasn’t using them fast enough for her to get off. He pulled away his fingers immediately, and she whined in annoyance. 

“You’ll take what I give you, won’t you sweetheart?”, he questions, the hand holding her hip moving to her throat. “Fuck..yes..”, she answers, her eyes fluttering as she looks at his hand around her throat. “Please..”

“Please what? You want me to choke you?”

“Yes, a-and let me cum.”, she murmurs, and he cocks an eyebrow, pressing his fingers around her neck just enough to make her vision a little bit disoriented, but it felt so good. “Please.”, she quickly adds and he hums in satisfaction. “Get inside me.”

“You’ll get to cum only if you are a good girl and be quiet, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.”, she agrees, nodding her head and he releases her neck, turning her around. “If you make a sound, I’m gonna stuff these panties into your pretty little mouth, got it?”

“Uh huh..” Harry flips up her skirt and drags down her panties, before unbuckling his pants and getting his dick out of his boxers. She keeps her hands on the mirror covered wall, and he keeps his hand on her shoulder as he slips his hard cock into her pussy.

“Fuck, so tight around me. Such a perfect hole.”, he groans, and she gasps at the feeling of being full, before quickly remembering that she should be quiet. Harry fucks her deep and quick, making her bite her lip so hard she was sure it was bleeding. It felt so fucking good. 

“Feels good, baby? This what you wanted?”Harry's fingers dig into the flesh of her hip.

“So good.”, she hummed, and let out a small scream as he thrusts quickly, and it hit just the spot. She was struggling to keep standing. 

“What did I tell you?”Harry grabs her ass, squeezing one of her cheeks. “What would happen if you couldn’t be quiet?”

“Y-You’d stuff my panties in m-my mouth..oh god.,”, she moans, and he picks up her panties. “That’s right. Want to let the whole world know what a dirty little girl you are? Open your mouth.”

His fingers grabbed her jaw and squeezed, making her open her mouth and he stuffs her panties into her mouth, making her moan around it as he continues to fuck her. “That’s better. Do you still think you deserve to cum?”

She couldn’t answer with the panties in her mouth, and she didn’t think she would be able to even if she could have. She was seeing stars. But she managed a weak nod.

“Yeah? I don’t think so.``, Harry quickened his pace, feeling him getting close and she clenched around him. “Fuck yes, just like that.”, he groans. “B-Because I’m nice, I’ll let you cum. Let go, baby.”

It doesn’t take much longer for her to tip over the edge, and he has to hold her up to make sure she doesn’t fall on her knees. Her legs were shaking from the orgasm, and her head was floating. Harry groaned as he released as well, slowing down his strokes. He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, breathing as they came down from their highs. 

He takes the panties out of her mouth, and presses a kiss to her shoulder. “Can I pull out?”

She nods, and he does, slowly before turning her around and pushing all the cum dripping down her thighs inside her. She whines from sensitivity. “You’ll hold everything in, right love? I’ll take care of it when we get home after our little shopping trip.”

“I-I think we’re done shopping for the day..”, she sighs, head leaning on his chest and he chuckles, pulling her into his arms. He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re so perfect.”

___________________________________________________

Two days later, y/n and Harry were ready for their trip. She had planned it all for four days, the last day would be the seventh day. The end of her four weeks.

"You can always call me anytime.", y/n tells Uncle Luke as she checks the house over and over again, to make sure he has everything. She had found a home nurse who would take care of him when she was gone.

"I'll be fine, y/n. I told you I don't need a nurse!", he says as y/n checks his medicine cabinet, making sure nothing needs a refill.

"I know you can take care of yourself, the nurse is so I don't freak out, okay?", she says, sitting down when her uncle grabs her wrist.

"I'll be good, I promise.", he says, smiling with the soft glint in his eyes. "But you haven't been on a trip since ages, y/n. I want you to have fun."

y/n smiles, squeezing his hand. "You used to love going to new places and outdoors. I wish you were little again so we could both go get ice cream, and I'd push you on the swing in the park.."

y/n leans forward to hug her uncle, closing her eyes in comfort as his arms wrap around her. "You remind me of Reena sometimes. She would be a beautiful smart girl like you right now, if she was alive."

"She would. I'm sure she's looking at you from up there.", y/n says to him, and Uncle Luke smiles at her. "My little girl. I'll see her some day."

"Yes, until then, you're stuck with me."

y/n gets him to laugh. "Seriously, have fun y/n, don't think about me, okay? I'll call every day, but don't spend too much time worrying about me."

"I'll try.", she nods.

"Guess you gotta go, Harry will be waiting for you.", he says, stroking her hair back.

"Yup. It's just four days, I can do this right?", she asks for assurance, and Uncle Luke nods, placing a kiss on her forehead. "You can. You know, while I was making tea yesterday, I put in salt instead of sugar?"

"Oh god. That must have tasted horrible."

"My point is, y/n, don't trust everything you see or hear. You can't even differentiate salt from sugar if you don't look carefully."

y/n's eyebrows creased, and she bit her lip, thinking about that statement. Did Uncle Luke mean something? He did throw around words like that often, but this seemed different.

"What do you mean, Uncle?", she asks, pulling back from the hug to look at him.

"What do I mean?", he asks, confused. "Wasn't I talking about Reena?"

y/n knew he had forgotten, and there was no point bringing it up again. He would only get sad about the fact that he forgot something he just said. y/n made sure she packed everything, and went to go pick Harry.

She waits for him in the car, and after half an hour of waiting, he finally comes out. She gets out of the car to help him load his bag into the trunk.

"I thought you were gonna bail on me. We're already two hours past the time we were supposed to leave. We have to-"

y/n stops talking as she turns to look at Harry. He had gotten a haircut, shaved his mustache and trimmed his beard. He looked so handsome, the haircut made his eyes stand out. His green eyes were shining bright. He immediately looked a few years younger. His skin glowed in the sunlight. He wore a black t shirt exposing his muscular arms, and displaying all his tattoos. He wore baggy jeans and sneakers with that.

"Enjoying the view? We're not even in Mexico, yet.", Harry smirks at her, his dimples popping.

She blushes, pushing on his shoulder. He looked incredibly hot. "Who are you? What did you do with Doctor Turner?"

"He's gone for vacation, won't be available for four days. I would recommend rescheduling the appointment if you had one.", he says, making her giggle and hug him. "You look great Harry."

"Thank you, and you always do, y/n. Sorry for the delay, I had some last minute packing left. I'm ready to go now. Oh! I didn't know it was convertible.", he says, looking at the car.

"Isn't it sick? I thought you'll like it.", y/n says, watching him go around and look at it.

"Interesting," he agrees. "It's safe, right?"

"Of course. I drive safely. Hop in, let's begin our trip!"

Harry smiles and kisses her before getting in. Harry asks her questions about where they'll be staying, and she tells him she booked a room in a hotel near the beach for the day.

y/n sang along to the music and Harry listened to her with a smile. She really was a sunshine in his life. They stopped for tea on the way, and for a break. It was a little hut-like place, overlooking the hills. It was the only spot she could find on the highway.

y/n clicked some pictures of Harry as he leaned against the car. He caught her, and brought a hand to his face. "Whyy?", he drawls.

"It's a beautiful view!", she says, smiling as she looks at the photos.

"Let me take yours then! Stand there.", he points to a tree, and snatches her phone out of her hands.

"Okay." y/n walks over and strikes a pose, making Harry grin as he clicks. She made a funny face for the next one, and Harry pinched her side playfully when she came back running to him.

"You're so pretty.", he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her head as she looks at the photos. She smiles, leaning her head on his shoulder and tilting her head up to meet his lips. "Thank you."

They hit the road again. Harry had come off a night shift the day before so he was tired. He yawns and leans his head on the window.

"Will you get sleepy and crash if I sleep?", he asks.

"No, I think I'll survive for a while. We have one and half hours more, get recharged.", she pats his knee.

He was too tired to protest, and he let his eyes close. y/n kept looking at him sideways when she could. Harry looked so peaceful. She wished she could keep him safe with her like this forever.

Harry woke up energetic before they got to their hotel. It was a small place, but the view from their room was beautiful. Palm trees stood tall along the beach, dancing to the tune of the breeze emanating from the waters of the sea. They missed the sunset, but the sky was still painted in hues.

They decided to freshen up and then take a walk on the beach side. y/n changed into a purple and pink blouse, paired with matching shorts and put on her sandals. Harry chose a simple white shirt and black shorts. Harry took her hand when they walked, making y/n's heart flutter. They had held hands before, but now they were away from everyone, in their own world and happy.

Then they sat down on the sand while looking at the calm waters. "Why San Francisco?", y/n asks Harry as she traces her thumb on the cross tattoo on his hand. "You didn't grow up here, did you?"

"I don't think so..", Harry murmurs. "I think I'm from London."

She knew he was British from his accent that was incredibly hot, but London was new information. "Then why did you move here?", she asks.

"I-I don't know..I've been here since the time I remember.", he whispers.

"Move back to London, Harry. Or Mexico, or somewhere.", she mumbles, making him look at her. "Leaving you and my life behind?"

"That's what's safe for you. You can get a job there too, build a beautiful house and fall in love with a beautiful girl. Build your life there, Harry. Be happy.", she whispers, kissing his cheek. She couldn't tell him anything more.

"I built my life here, y/n. I don't know if I can do it again. I'm content with what I have now. I don't think it's possible to fall in love again either."

"Again?", y/n lifts her head from his shoulder. Was he talking about Reagen?

He tucks some of her hair behind her ear. "Yeah. I'm in love with you, y/n."

She felt her ribs hurting from the butterflies fluttering from her stomach up to her ribs, pressing on them. Her heart beat so fast, she thought it would explode out of her chest. y/n stroked his cheek as he looked at her with those gorgeous eyes. Her own eyes filled with tears, so she closed them, not wanting him to see and pressed her lips onto his soft ones. Harry's hand moves to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as he kisses her passionately.

"I love you too, Harry.", y/n whispers back, and touches their foreheads together. It was tearing her apart, hurting him. She would be responsible for breaking his heart. She wanted to walk into the sea and scream, letting the waves of the sea drown her voice.

Will he think think that what they have between them is also an act, when he gets to know the truth? But this was all true. y/n couldn't deny it anymore. She was in love with this man. The man who came into her life unexpectedly, and now without whom she cannot imagine living without.

"I'm happy, y/n. As long as I have you, I'll always be happy.", Harry whispers, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead.

[ahb-writes]

Writing Problem: The Scenes Are Void of Meaningful Conflict

Problem: The Scenes Are Void of Meaningful Conflict

Solution: Character growth and story arcs don't occur in isolation. Conflict-guided scenes and conflict-guided storytelling, more broadly, open the narrative to moments in which the characters are continuously tested to validate their knowledge, skills, or relationships.

To drive the story forward with measured purpose, focus on building, developing, and testing a character's desires. If necessary, implement story or relational dynamics to economically assess, judge, and curate a character's failure (and the consequences thereof). Conflict needn't be grandiose; writers must be in tune with the different levels, types, and intensities of conflict that drive their story. Conflict should be multifaceted.

Writing Resources:

A Few Words About Conflict (Glimmer Train Press)

Conflict Thesaurus (One Stop for Writers)

6 Secrets to Creating and Sustaining Suspense (Writer's Digest)

Emotions in Writing: How to Make Your Readers Feel (Jericho Writers)

The Primary Principles of Plot: Goal, Antagonist, Conflict, Consequences (September C. Fawkes)

How to Master Conflict in Young Adult Fiction (Writer's Edit)

Failure, Conflict, and Character Arc (Writers in the Storm)

❯ ❯ Adapted from the writing masterpost series: 19 Things That Are Wrong With Your Novel (and How to Fix Them)

[tinyreviews]

Tips to increase tension:

1. Establish Clear Goals: Establish clear, compelling goals that are relatable to readers. The more readers care about whether the character succeeds or fails, the higher the tension.

2. Time Pressure: Introduce time constraints or deadlines. This creates a sense of urgency and raises the stakes.

3. Obstacles: Place obstacles and conflicts in the path of your characters, both internal and external. These challenges should grow progressively more difficult, making the reader wonder if and how the characters will overcome them.

4. Unpredictability: Surprise your readers with unexpected twists or developments. Subvert their expectations, but ensure that these surprises are rooted in the story's internal logic.

5. Character Flaws and Growth: Give your characters flaws and weaknesses that they must confront and overcome. As they evolve, readers become more interested in their journeys and outcomes.

6. Foreshadowing: Skillful foreshadowing can build anticipation. Drop subtle hints or clues about future events or conflicts to keep readers guessing.

7. Moral Dilemmas: Present characters with challenging moral choices. Preferably, all choices have high prices, making the reader unsure of which choice to root for.

8. Show, Don't Tell: Instead of telling readers about the tension, show it through the characters' actions, thoughts, and emotions. Let readers experience the tension alongside the characters.

9. Dialogue and Conflict Resolution: Use dialogue to create conflicts between characters. Tense conversations can reveal hidden motivations and escalate the overall tension.

10. Setting and Atmosphere: Craft the setting and atmosphere to complement the mood you want to convey. Dark, foreboding settings enhance danger and tension, while serene settings provide a contrast.

11. Cliffhangers: End chapters or sections on cliffhangers, leaving readers eager to know what happens next. However, use this sparingly to maintain its impact.

12. Relatable Characters: Ensure that readers can relate to and care about your characters. This emotional connection amplifies the tension as readers become invested in their fates.

[itsfullofstars]

It's official: I'm publishing my first work of fiction, the unhinged novella SKIN & BONES, on 10/22/24 (just in time for Halloween). Pre-order the ebook now!

A mind-bending psychological thriller told in first person by a broken man who submits to a bizarre medical experiment in an effort to redeem himself, and loses his mind in the process.

It's Fight Club meets The Parallax View meets E.R. meets Shutter Island... and utterly unique in its own right. A quick, propulsive, hallucinatory read, rich with supernatural elements and medical suspense, SKIN & BONES takes you on a journey into the labyrinth of one man's fractured psyche.

Skull art by @paul.hollingworth - and it's NOT AI!

[duckie-deer-prompts]

Duckie Deer Prompt #14

"Who are you and where is he?"

"What are you talking about? Has your crown finally become too tight for your swelled he--"

"Cut the crap!" he yelled authoritatively, startling the other hotel residents nearby. Lucifer could feel himself beginning to shift into his demon form in response to the threat. "Who are you and where is the real Alastor?"

"Have you always been this pa--"

"Shut up! You're not Alastor and I KNOW you're not. Alastor ALWAYS smiles. Always! I saw your smile drop. You have five seconds to answer my questions."

An uneasy silence passed over everyone, Vaggie, Angel and Husk slowly arming themselves while Charlie looked on unsure.

A laugh, a very un-Alastor-like laugh, barked past the being's lips before their mouth fully relaxed.

"God, finally. I don't know how that psycho can keep it up 24/7. I must say, your majesty, I hadn't considered that you would be quite so perceptive."

[here-comes-the-moose]

When I’m writing my Modern AU but then try to figure out and calculate how the life I gave the Batch is financially possible:

[writing-to-survive]

#193

"Is this not considered kidnapping?"

"You came willing, saying—and I quote—'I call shotgun.'"

"Which I didn't get."

[thepedanticbohemian]

My writing has been compared to Stephen King, Thomas Harris, Dean Koontz, and Peter Straub. Why? Because I'm unafraid to go there when it comes to disturbing imagery. Gory details don't scare me, though they will likely scare my readers. Sort of the point, really. lol