#that’s why I haven’t being drawing at all this past month
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Awkward double date 😬
#beastars#tem#riz#legoshi#haru#riz x tem#legoshi x haru#I needed to do this cuz I have horrible art bloc#that’s why I haven’t being drawing at all this past month#so take this#personally I don’t think riz and Legoshi would get along well#also that tem project….#😬 sorry but uhhh…. it turned out bad and yeah no it’s really bad 😭#so uhh commissions soon????#also I can’t draw Legoshi he’s very hard to draw#his head looks flat 😭#I never knew#riztem#was a thing
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Fling - Charles Leclerc
Words: 1,072 Summary: Charles overhears his girlfriend telling someone that they are just a fling and will be ending soon which is more than confusing for him. Note(s): Reader is plus size in this. It is not said outright but very much implied. Charles and Reader both suck at communicating btw. Also this is based on a somewhat recent convo I had with someone where they told me I’d be pretty if it weren’t for me being fat so… Good thing I have thick skin
Masterlist | Support Me!
“It’s not going to last.”
Her eyes flicker off her phone screen for a second, eyebrow raising just a hint before they go back, typing a message. “Okay.”
“That’s all you have to say? Okay.”
“Well, you were a bit vague.” She draws out the last word, sighing. “So, yeah,” she nods, pausing. “Okay.”
The other huffs, shaking her head. “Charles and you, it’s never going to last. It was a good fling, a summer romance, but by next year you’ll be gone.”
Her lips thin and she pockets her phone, finally making eye contact with Silvia. “I’m more than aware that I don’t look like Charles’ past partners and that you have more than your fair share of issues with that and me. But Silvia, you don’t have to state the obvious. I’ve been aware.”
The older woman’s eyes are wide.
“It’s called enjoying something while it lasts and I intend to do so, enjoy this thing with Charles until it inevitably comes to end. Probably in the next month. We all know how you like him to be single going into the new year.”
Respect settles across Silvia’s face. “You are different than I thought.”
“Should’ve had a conversation with me.” She counters and Silvia concedes with a nod of her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll put out an insta story saying we parted on good terms and that things just don’t always work out. I’d say better as friends, but I think you’d kill me if I ever showed up in the garage again after this.”
“Just a bit.” Silvia then frowns. “You really knew this was never going to last? Between you and Charles?”
“Silvia,” And her tone softens for the first time. “It’s like I said. I’m aware of what I look like, especially compared to Charles and his exes. But it’s Charles, I would have been more stupid to say no to him and then to have him for at least a few months.”
Silvia holds her gaze for a few seconds before nodding and reaching forward, patting her hand. “It is a shame how you look. You would have made the perfect partner.”
And she doesn’t even flinch at the insult to her weight.
—
“Is everything okay?”
Her eyes are full of concern as she watches Charles move around the hotel room. His body tense, lips pressed together, jaw twitching.
His nostrils flare and she swears she can hear his teeth grinding.
“I overheard something, you and Silvia.” He fully turns to look at her and she’s unable to even get a second to mourn the loss of his side profile as she sees hurt in his eyes that’s surrounded by frustration.
“We aren’t going to last? I’m leaving you in the next month?”
“Charles,”
“No.” He shakes his head, cutting her off. “This is all news to me.”
“Is it?”
His head jerks back, “what?”
“We never talked about being serious, Charles. And you have a type, I’m so far away from that type it’s not even funny.”
“We never talked about being serious because every time I try to talk about our future you shut me down, you change the subject. And my type is you!” His voice is louder. “I know what my exes look like, I know my pattern, the jokes of how and why I date, but you are the most gorgeous woman in the world, as soon as I saw you, my type changed, I have no type, it is just you. It’s been seven months and I haven’t even looked at another woman.”
Her mind is struggling to process, her heart nearly beating out of her chest, her mouth slack with shock.
“You never tried talking about our future.” It’s all she can say because she can’t think of a single time he brought it up, he tried bringing it up.
“I tried asking you to come to lunch with my brothers and mom.”
Her eyes widened. “That was in July.”
“I asked about holiday plans, I asked about meeting your family. If you wanted kids, when you wanted them. And all I know is that you are going to family for two days for the holidays and that you want kids. That is all I got out of you. I tried giving you a key to my apartment.”
“I’m only ever in Monaco when I’m with you. Why would I ever need a key?”
He flushes, rubbing at the back of his neck. “This might be my bad, it was my way of asking you to move in, or just keep things at my place at least.”
“Charles.”
“I love you.”
Her heart skips a beat and all the hurt and frustration that had been on Charles’ face is gone, replaced by something she’s never seen directed at her.
“I’m crazy in love with you. And obviously we both need to work on things, talking, but I want to do that. I want you. I want you to move in with me, to continue going to all my races, to chide Leo before cuddling him. I want to marry you. In a day, a week, a month, a year, I don’t care when. And I want children with you. I want them to have your smile, your laugh, your stubbornness even though it infuriates me.”
Tears are spilling down her cheeks, lip trembling, and she nearly can’t speak.
“Charles, I want you too. I want all of that. I love you.”
He’s striding forward, his hands gentle on her face as he steals the breath from her lips.
They’ve shared many kisses in the seven months since they’ve known each other, but none like this.
“We are never breaking up.” Charles states when he pulls away after brushing their lips together once more.
“Never.” She agrees, a rush of excitement flooding her as she realizes that she gets to have this, have him, and never give him up.
He smiles at the answer, at the happiness that has flooded her face, the tension he didn’t even know was there that has left her body. “Now, when would you like to get married? I think I have a favor or two I could call to get us married tomorrow if you’d like.”
“Charles,” She shakes her head.
“What?”
“Take me to bed.”
His eyes widen for a brief second and then a smirk plays on his lips. “Happily, amour.”
#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#sins fics
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BG3 2025 Creative Challenge!
Baldur's Gate 3 Fandom Artists, Writers, and Creatives!
I would like to invite you to a year of prompts to create whatever you would like! SFW, NSFW, whatever medium you would like to create in, the choice is yours! The idea is that we have on prompt per month so it should be easier to follow along without becoming overloaded. You don't have to create something specifically for the event either - if you have a WIP or other work you're publishing that month that fits the description you are more than welcome to add that in! I'll make a new post at the start of each month with the details of that month's challenge prompt, but this will be our masterpost to start the year off with a bang. Details below the cut!
The Year Of Prompts
January - New Year New You Pick a new character, trope, or pairing. Something you haven’t tried before. Make it a challenge to do something new and different! February - Romance Novels Go for something romantic, or if romance isn’t your cup of tea try something around the Necromancy of Thay instead! March - Marching Forwards March to your goal to finish a WIP or LongFic, or March into a new world by making something in an AU! April - Fools Rush In Make something humorous, something fun, whether it’s based on a meme or a joke pairing or just something with a bit more whimsy and some laughs~ May - Maybe? What If? Reverse a trope or reimagine a part of the canon - what if things were different?
June - June Bugs Create something centred around a game glitch or exploit, past or present! July - Why Would July To Me? A piece around lies, deceptions, and other ways the truth can be twisted or obscured. August - When In Rome… A piece themed around the customs of specific races, backgrounds, regions, or Guilds. Are they followed or broken? That’s up to you! September - Seven Deadly Sins Pick one, or more, of the classic “seven deadly sins” and see how that can relate to one or more characters or tropes. October - Days of the Dead Create something around a character death, a memorial, a lingering ghost, or find a way a character might cheat their death or be brought back from it~
November - Gnomevember Either create something centred on Gnome characters from the game, or the other story points around them (Steel Watch, Iron Throne, Runepowder, etc) December - Season of Giving Create a surprise gift for someone in fandom, or write a piece around a gift being given by or to a character or characters!
Rules
The rules are very simple!
Create your piece in 2025, preferably within the prompt month but if you post a little early or late that's fine too!
All pieces must be your creations or a collaboration - No AI or chatbot content
You are free to work in whatever medium you like for each and every prompt!
Set your own goal - you can do a short 100-500 word minific, some simple sketches, or write a whole 10k word one shot epic, or draw a full page comic. What matters is that it's a goal YOU want to achieve!
There will be options to submit prompts and fill prompts in the AO3 collections - this is entirely your choice! You can take a prompt if you like, work on something you had already started, or create something entirely new!
Have fun!
The Goal
The aim really is simple - to set some targets, and work on at least 12 things this year so at this time next year you can look back on your progress and celebrate your achievements. If you miss a month or turn in late, that's fine! Do what works for you!
AO3 Collections
For those of you that would like to, there will be a parent collection for the year event as a whole and some sub-collections for each month to allow us to keep everything nice and organised. It's completely optional if you would like to put your work on AO3 or not - you're more than welcome to just keep it on Tumblr or wherever you usually share your works!
This event is for you to use however you feel best, to inspire creativity, working towards manageable goals, and trying something different.
Social Media Tags
Use the tag #BG32025 if you would like to! I don't know if anyone else is using this one but I'll cross my fingers that we're the only ones~ Feel free to share the event and please do support each other through our creativity! A character or pairing or kink or trope might not be your cup of tea, but let's celebrate how it is there for someone else who might really enjoy it, and keep a positive and passionate view whilst respecting boundaries by tagging works appropriately as always <3
Thank you for reading this far and I hope to see you all through they year adding your works and creativity to our fandom <3 we have so much amazing talent here, I'm delighted to have the privilege of seeing it all~
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REMEMBER
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader
Genre: Childhood friends, separation, amnesia, angst, slow burn, smut, romance.
Description: Dead eyes, pale skin, no memories. Returning to Minnesota convinces your father that it might be for the best. The familiarity of everything, he says, might help. But you have no recollection of living a life here, except for the old basketball court just around the block from your home. And somehow, you find yourself walking aimlessly toward it, wasting your remaining time sitting on the rusted metal bench. No one comes here. Yet, you feel like you're being watched.
Then, one sunset, a vehicle abruptly stops in the distance. A woman with blonde hair steps out. Blue eyes, glowing skin... and suddenly, your brain snaps. Memories.
You almost feel happy, hopeful that you can regain your lost memories. But when you look into her eyes, all you see is hatred.
Chapter 1: Snapshots of Memories
"Are you ready, honey?" Steven, your dad, asks for the nth time today. You��re packing up all your things because you're going back to Minnesota, your hometown. "It's for the best," your dad says. And, with your current state, you're in no position to negotiate.
You haven’t looked in a mirror for the past three years, but one glance at your arms tells you that you've become skinny—like, malnourished-skinny. Gone is your rosy complexion, replaced with deathly pale skin. You could pass as a vampire, minus the fangs. Plus, you feel like a shell, void of any memories. The only memories you have are from three months ago—waking up in a hospital bed, with your dad hysterical and shaking from exhaustion, and maybe from the happiness of you finally waking up.
Apparently, you learned that you were involved in a traumatic car accident. Your mom, Emma, was the driver, and you were in the passenger seat. Sadly, she didn’t make it. After hearing that, you kind of want to hit your head for not recalling anything about your own mother. You feel guilty and weirded out that you can’t even feel sad, hurt, or broken when learning about the loss—because you couldn’t even put a face to the name your dad calls his beloved wife.
"Yes, Dad. Are you?"
And now, three months later, you're leaving and moving states.
Minnesota
You arrived at last. It was a cozy home, with your nice room, and you saw things and trinkets a 12-year-old might own. You're 22 now, you think to yourself. That’s what your dad tells you—he showed you your documents. You're a senior college student, majoring in Civil Engineering. Ironic, considering you're supposed to be so smart, and now you're just… meh.
You went down to the living room and saw your dad unpacking other things, so you told him you were going to head out and check the premises. There was this gnawing feeling inside you when you passed by that old, abandoned basketball court. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it was the only thing that felt familiar.
And then it became a habit. Every day, you walked toward the court, your mind empty, then sat there for a couple of hours until the dark started consuming your vision, and you’d know it was time to go home. Your dad noticed your strange behavior but, oddly, didn’t comment on it—he just smiled.
One morning, while eating breakfast with him, you asked:
"Did I play basketball before?" You felt so drawn to it, but not enough to buy a ball and actually play.
"No, you preferred swimming. You liked to excel in areas where physicality and aggression weren’t present. You liked to draw, you could sing, not sure if you danced though, but definitely swimming. That was your therapy," he said, a faraway look in his eyes.
"So, why was I drawn to that place? It’s the only familiar thing here."
"Oh, honey. I did say you didn’t play, but you loved to watch someone who did."
Your heart stopped upon hearing that. I used to watch someone play basketball in that court? Is that it? Was it special?
"Who, Dad?" Your heart was thumping.
"A friend, honey. But I think she’s not around here anymore," your dad said with a sad smile, followed by a sigh.
"Oh." That was all you could say. What a wasted opportunity to regain my memories.
Days passed, and you slowly adjusted to your new life. You read through your past documents, searching for articles that might be crucial to your development. On your free time, of course, the basketball court became your personal meditation place. But ever since that conversation with your dad, coming here felt like you were being watched. You were certain no one was close enough to actually be watching you, except for the passing vehicles on the block. You thought you were just being paranoid.
Until one sunset, a car abruptly stopped in the distance. You turned your head, thinking there might have been an accident because of how loud the screeching of the tires was. But then, you saw a woman with blonde hair step out—blue eyes, glowing skin—and suddenly, you were holding your head because it hurt. Snapshots of memories flooded your brain, all with the same description of the woman, but with no face.
Once the pain subsided, you finally felt hopeful and happy that someone might hold the key to your memories. But when you came face to face with the woman—eye to eye—all you saw was hatred.
Dad, is she the friend?
#paige bueckers#uconn#uconn huskies#uconn wbb#paige bueckers fic#paige bueckers x reader#paige x reader
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The death of you
Summary: You and your best friend have your usual movie night except he can’t seem to keep his cuddly hands to himself and your close to physical combusting. Just a bit of your usual order of slightly angsty desired filled romance with little touch starved reader on the side.
Warnings: doesn’t go any farther than kissing just very passionate, very suggestive, Maybe I’m biased as the author, but damn it’s hot.
A/N: So I’ve been out of practice for 10 months now. Haven’t even wrote more than a paragraph that I just turned around and delete 20 minutes later these past few months. But let’s just say I found some inspiration to use for our favorite fictional men and we’ll see how this goes.
Movie night with Eddie, that’s normal, done it a million times. With friends, just the two of you, late at night, middle of day, outside, inside, at the theater, at his house, thrillers, comedies, action, romance, anything and everywhere for years. So why was this time different?
Currently you were sitting on Eddie’s couch watching the most recently picked out tape from the family video store. Steve let you guys borrow them for free as long as you brought the tape back the very next day. You guys watched movies all the time, so why was your heart beating out of your chest like a race horse on its final stretch to the finish line? Was it because his arm was around you?
No it couldn’t be that, Eddie was a big cuddler, it didn’t mean anything. He loved hugs despite his scary image in the public eyes, and he was always finding weird ways to poke, prod, or touch you. He was the type of friend to bite your shoulder when he got bored, an absolutely feral mad man type guy. And he knew that despite your lack of experience with physical affection, you never mind when it came from him. He always got your free pass.
Maybe it was the slow circles you felt him drawing on your skin? Or how occasionally his hands would slip into your hair, playing with it? Much more intimate little things that were making you feel like you were going to jump out of your skin from just the hints at this new kind of physical touch.
Yep, that was definitely the issue.
You tried removing his arm from around your shoulder and instead brought it back down to his side. But when he looked at you with such confused puppy dog eyes, you caved and played it off as just repositioning yourself as you instead wrapped around his arm and leaned into his side, laying your head on his shoulder. You could never deny him anything, just another issue of being so damn in love with your best friend.
As the movie ticked on and you both stuck to your usual quiet with some slight hilarious commentary during the movie, Eddie eventually pulled you closer so that he could bury his head into the back of your neck. One of his hands came up to play with your hair some more.
You knew he wasn’t paying attention to the movie anymore. He couldn't possibly see it, the way he was laying his head into your neck. Of course, it wasn't a very intriguing movie either, just not a great pick this time. But now he was rubbing the same small circles right under your ear, this time, and every so often his hand would find itself tangled in your hair. You tried to keep yourself straight and breathing consistently without letting your mind wander too far. He had to know this! That HE was killing you slowly.
Your breath nearly hitched this time when you swear you felt him ever so lightly brush his lips against the side of your neck. Did you imagine that part? God, you hoped he would do it again.
You weren’t even questioning why he would do any of this, you just knew you had to get yourself out of there before he realized how much of a mess this was turning you into.
As the movie came to an end you swear he had brushed his lips against your neck at least twice more, and you still couldn’t tell if it was intentional.
“Eddie it’s getting late I’ll have to go home soon.”
“Yeah” he muttered into your hair, all the while holding you tighter.
You gave him, and even more importantly, yourself, another minute before attempting to pull away. “Eddie, I have to get home soon.” You sounded like a broken record as you once again tried half-heartedly to pull yourself free from him.
He only pulled you back in and buried his head into your other shoulder. His arm came around, this time drawing lines down the front of your neck, and you shook at the feeling. This time your hand came up, cupping his head and running your fingers through his hair. Which only caused him to brush his lips against your shoulder once more. That’s it, it had to be intentional.
You swore you would combust into flames if you stayed there any longer like this. As every trace down your throat made you stop breathing. “I'm going to have to be the bad guy. I have to go.” You said, completely pulling away from him this time, moving to the other side of the couch.
He groaned, but nodded as he let you move away from him this time. He ran a hand through his hair before staring at you, darker and more lovingly than you had ever seen before. “Man, you're pretty with your hair messed up.”
God, that was the final straw. You jumped up off the couch. “You can’t say shit like that, Eddie.” You ran your hands up and down your arms, trying to stop how shaken you felt. Your nerves were on high, and he was still looking at you with that same stare.
“Why not?”
“Because!”
“Because what?”
“You’re my best friend. You can’t sit here and hold me like that, and stare at me like that and kiss my neck softly like that and then expect me to just be able to functionally drive home like it was another normal movie night hangout.” You snapped. He had you wound up and your lack of dating experience left you mad for more touches from Eddie.
He sunk low and pain hit you in the gut. “I didn’t realize I was crossing any boundaries of our friendship.” He said, leaning back on the couch. “The last thing I ever wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.”
You sat back down next to him, panicking as you realized how he took your reaction. “No, god no, no that’s not what I meant. You never make me feel uncomfortable, Eddie. EVER! I mean, it wasn’t bad like that. It was good…horribly, terribly good. The kind of good you aren’t supposed to feel when watching a movie with your best friend.” You rambled.
So this was how you were going to confess to him your feelings. Man, he had you so on edge, you would admit anything to him right now if he asked.
That almost hungry stare returned to his eyes as he looked back down at you. You had read about that stare before, many times, and honestly, you thought it was an overused phrase in romance. The hungry stare, but honestly, what else could you call a look like that?
“God, you’ll be the death of me, Eddie Munson.” You laughed, not being able to look at him as long as he stared at you with those big brown eyes.
“You should stop taking the lord's name in vain. It’s a bad habit.” Eddie whispered as he leaned closer to you, getting inches away from you. Your foreheads were nearly touching, causing both of you to gently close your eyes at the feeling.
“It's funny, I didn’t have such a problem with it until now.”
You could feel his breath so close to you as your hands found their way back into his hair. He slowly dipped his head further down, leaving the same light kiss in his wake. He could feel you pull him closer and the kisses gained more pressure in a way you had been craving since he first came anywhere near you with his light touches.
As he kissed harder into your neck, your hands switched from running through his hair to almost pulling at it. You began leaning back further on the couch as you pulled him down with you until Eddie was over top of you. You wanted to give him the room to be fully on top of you, so you wrapped your legs around him as he put his whole force over you.
You felt engulfed and dazed in a way you never experienced before as he began to kiss you faster moving sporadically across your neck until he had kissed almost every square inch of you. You focused on keeping your breathing even, trying to spare yourself embarrassment from how simply he had you melting underneath him.
He pulled away from you, hovering over you with that same stare that was filled with so much adoration in it. “God, I would keep you here all night like this. Just right here, all mine, and with nowhere else to be. It’s just so satisfying to be able to wrap you up and hold you in a way I know no one else gets to.”
“You know, I think… I don’t really have to get home tonight. No one’s going to miss me if I stay here.” You said breathlessly.
Eddie grinned like the devil looking over you. “Good,” he said as he finally bent down, capturing your lips. His hand came up to cup your chin, tilting your head up to meet him.
That was the last straw, you were a melted puddle that belonged to him now. If this was to be only the beginning of the evening, then surely Eddie Munson was going to be the death of you.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie x you#eddie x fem!reader
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A Blackrock Story: A Boy with Turquoise Eyes
Happy 12th Anniversary to Blackrock Chronicle!
This comic ended up being 47 pages long (when I first sketched it, it was only 20 pages long). Since I can only upload 30 images in a post, I had to combine 2 pages into 1 image so hopefully it's still visually fine and not annoying to scroll through!
I wrote this mini-story more than 10 years ago, so I figured it was time to finally make it into a comic (after editing the writing a lot because I became a much better writer since lol).
Be aware of the TWs, and I hope you enjoy this comic!
TW: Violence || Blood || Injuries/Scars/Burn Marks || Kidnapping || (Temporary) Death || Loss of Limb / Amputation
Thank you all for reading one of my most insane projects ever!
Now, here’s another long story:
About 8 years ago, my life became so busy that to stay on top of my studies and activities, I stopped watching a lot of YouTubers, including the Yogscast.
I’ve grown up throughout the years. I had to stop acting like a kid to figure out what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I’m still an artist today, but I haven’t drawn in this way for about 3 years to pursue my real passion. I love to draw, but I didn’t have the time or inspiration to make something grand.
About 3 months ago, I suddenly got curious about how all those YouTubers I stopped watching were doing, so I checked out their channels and watched a video or two before moving on. When I got to the Yogscast channel, on the other hand, I quickly fell in love with the new content and with everyone again.
It was insane to see how immediately my love for them came back. In 3 months, I’ve watched so many videos and streams/VODs. It’s all so comforting, funny, and uplifting. Clearly, I missed so much content in the past 8 years, but at least I don’t have to worry about running out of things to watch for a while.
What made me most happy was that despite changing a lot, I never stopped being that kid who laughed at the Yogscast’s shenanigans. It just goes to show that no matter how much the world tries to push you around, you never lose that sense of joy you had as a child.
Now, about Rythian:
Since I started watching the Yogscast in 2011, Rythian has always been my favorite. I loved his series so much, especially with how he got into character to give us an immersive experience. It was an escape for me as a kid. When difficult moments were thrown at me, I watched Rythian’s series to find a sense of comfort.
So when I started watching his and Zoey’s Blackrock series, my mind was blown. The storytelling, acting, humor, and drama of the series were so immersive and touching that my creativity exploded.
I mainly use art to express myself and my interests because I struggle to talk about it. But funny enough, Blackrock was the only interest of mine that got me to not draw, but to write. I wrote a lot of short stories about the series—even how I envisioned the series would end. I was so inspired to create all the time from this series.
And what’s crazy is that at the beginning of this summer, I found all of those written drafts and notes from when I was a kid. I kept them all for 10+ years and found a very loose (and not that good) draft of this comic and I felt really inspired to finish it.
It was roughly when I was first watching Blackrock too when I realized that I can be creative in the future. The Yogscast helped me understand that I can do whatever I want for the rest of my life. If they could do it, then why can’t I?
What’s also wonderful is that even after so many years, Rythian never stopped being my favorite. When I started watching the main channel again a few months ago, I immediately found myself rooting for him whenever he was in the group videos. I just remembered how much happiness he brought me when I was younger and it makes me so happy that I still get so much joy whenever I hear his voice.
While working on this comic, I watched all of Kirbycraft and caught up on Kirby Farm. I can’t help but smile the whole time Rythian, Briony, and Kirsty interact with one another. The dynamic of these three brings me so much laughter and comfort. A part of me is upset that I didn’t get back to watching everyone when Kirbycraft was still live, but better late than never, right?
I also originally started this comic without the intention of posting it. But then I figured, Hey, it’d be great to share it with everyone who’s also been impacted by this series and the Yogscast in general, so I made this blog to post it here. Honestly, I’m not sure when the next time I’ll be able to draw is (who knew building a career takes away a lot of your energy and time?). But I think that’s what’s so wonderful about my love for Yogscast and particularly Blackrock: I didn’t make this comic for the likes or views. It was just because I wanted to, and I’m so happy to see there are so many people on here who feel the same love for them as I do.
This series and the people who made it, along with the people who supported it and loved it and continued to love it, impacted me for the better. I learned so many years ago that I can be creative for a living, and have been working hard towards doing that since.
Happy 12th Anniversary to the Blackrock Chronicle. To Rythian and Zoey who put a smile on this kid’s face even during the toughest of times.
And to the Yogscast, thank you for being there for me when I needed you all the most and for still being here when I came back. Your ability to inspire me and make me laugh never disappeared throughout the years I was gone, and I’m ready to laugh some more.
#yogscast#rythian#zoeya#teep#blackrock chronicles#my comic#my art#a blackrock story#yogscast rythian#yogscast zoey#yogscast nilesy#yogscast ravs#ravs#nilesy#yogscast fanart#my digital art#art#digital art#my artwork#comic#my hand still hurts oops#zoey proasheck#Blackrock chronicle
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Something New.
prompt : You tell Mark you feel bored with your sex life during an argument. He shows you why you should never speak down on him again.
warnings : 18+ audiences. Degrading. Dom!Mark Hoffman x sub!reader. Slight edging. Daddy kink. Age gap relationship. Power dynamics. Restraints. Hair pulling. Face-slapping. Subspace is implied. Aftercare, it gets softer at the end I promise he’s not a bastard in this one after. Victim play mentioned like once. Cursing. Use of the word cunt and cock when referring to parts. Porn without plot almost. Haven’t written smut in months, bare with me. Breeding. Alludes to squirting.
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You really didn’t know exactly what had gotten yourself to this point. Didn’t know what possessed you to let such an insult slip past your mouth, even if deep down you knew you meant it. But god, you wished you didn’t. Your words got you here, your arms sealed into a knot tied to each bedpost, legs spread open and bound to stay that way, no Mark in sight.
You had no idea how long it had been until you noticed a familiar frame loom in the doorway, arms tight against his chest as a menacing chuckle escaped his lips.
“You really thought you could doubt me and get away with it, hm?” His voice is rasp. Deep. Just enough for his words to hit you in ways that it should’ve, enough to draw his point across. You didn’t answer, just looked in his direction, your eyes sparkling in fear of what he had planned to put you through.
It’s not long before he deeply sighs at the lack of any sign of response or acknowledgement of his presence, making his way over to your tortured form, a light slap stinging your cheeks. You gasp in response finally, his strong hand gripping your chin and forcing your eyes to peer up at him.
“Fucking look at me while I’m talking to you.” He spits venom from his lips, his eyes are a slick black, his pupils expanded to its max in a look that could never be mistaken as anything other than a desired hunger. He creates a stronger grip onto your jaw, shaking his head in faux disbelief at your actions. He pulls your face closer to him, his knees bent down in a laced mocking tone, as if you were nothing but a victim in that moment. “Speak when you’re spoken to, slut. We don’t have all day.”
You swallowed your pride, letting yourself morph into your permanent role. Nodding your head slowly and winced as his grip got impossibly tighter on your jaw.
“No. Use your fucking words. You can’t be that stupid.”
You could’ve sunk into a puddle of desire and need right there, practically leaking against the sheer fabric of the only material that was clung to your body. You had never seen this side before and while you were more than grateful that you managed to force this state out of him, you were all the more frightened that you pushed him to the point of no return when it came to your sex-life.
You finally brighten up the courage to open your silken lips, searching his eyes for any sign of your boyfriend’s caring nature when it came to you, but your search returned with nothing of the sorts. You swallow down a gulp that you were sure could’ve been heard due to the crisp environment.
“Yes.. daddy.” You hesitate. Not sure that that would’ve been the appropriate response. You knew that Mark had always been hesitant when it came to going out in public with you, he always thought he looked a bit too old to be with you, like a creep. But here he was in the same breath and the same mind, acting as if he was a dangerous predator stalking his prey.
Your words elicit a throated growl, black eyes continuing to peer down at you in your helpless position. He lets go of your jaw finally, letting your head fall roughly back onto the pillow without a care in his being. He himself probably had no idea in the slightest as to why he’s okay with being called daddy when he was already insecure in himself for snatching you up while he could. Maybe it was the way that anything sounded pretty coming from his angel, he’s sure that was it.
He pats your face as your reward, rubbing the soft flesh where his slip still lingered upon your face his thumb caressing your cheekbone. “Sorry, my angel.” He mouths down at you. You could tell he looked hesitant to continue seeing the handprint he left upon you but one look at your current state makes his gaze harden to its past form.
He starts to nonchalantly hum against the shell of your ear, his hand slowly making its way down your body. His pace was constant though, hand pressing firm onto your skin as he traces your helpless body. He stops once he gets close to your abdomen, smirk resting along the corner of his lips as his hand resumed slipping under the restraining lace fabric before ripping the flimsy material down the middle. His finger immediately hooks itself onto your wetness, slipping down to collect some on his finger, trailing his finger up your body again and forced it past your eager lips.
He doesn’t have to tell you what to do, you’ve seen too much of this move from him to know that you shouldn’t ignore it or freeze up when he presents himself. You wrap your lips desperately around the slick digit, using your tongue to sink it deeper into your mouth down to his knuckle.
“Fuck. You’re such a messy whore.” He belts out, his other hand swiftly taking his belt out of the confined loops, rushing his jeans past his ankles, kicking them off before his boxers fell swiftly behind. “All mine.” He grits his teeth, keeping himself tight-lipped.
He almost rips his finger from your mouth, moving slowly to crawl onto the bed and loomed over your smaller frame, sitting up on his knees as he admired you all spread out for him. He knew it would have been possible to keep your legs open for him, he naturally had that effect on you he caught on, but he figured the nature of learning a lesson would’ve been so much better and to his benefit.
You stare up at him, your doe eyes sparkling with faux innocence as he tangled his fingers through your hair, gripping onto a healthy amount of your hair with a deep smirk. He knew he had every and all control of you and your body he already couldn’t get enough of, he was fully up to taking advantage of this one moment. He rubs his tip against your cunt, groaning at the feeling of you still being wet, maybe even more than before. You shifted against your restraints, trying to buck up your hips in a desperate attempt to force him to slip inside, your actions answered with a grip on one of your hips to force you back down against the bed.
“I set the pace, not you. Understood?”
He didn’t give you much time to answer, he didn’t need one to the question anyways, he was setting the pace of the night rather you’d like it or not. He was the one that gave permission, not you.
It didn’t take him longer to give into you, though. Maybe it was a combination of how you already looked disheveled below him and those pretty eyes of yours but he could never say no to you even for a second. He forces his length inside of your aching cunt in one swift motion, wetness covering and enveloping around him. He possessively growls once more at your heat as a lethal result.
“Always fit me so well, don’t you? Like my own personal slut.” He grits his teeth and keeps his eyes locked on yours from below, nonverbally forcing you to keep contact. You wouldn’t dare break such a thing anyways, especially if he acted like this when provoked.
“Daddy.. please move. Need you.” You whimper into the air, hands pulling against your restraints once more in an overwhelming urge to rest your hands on his back to pull him closer to your body. You always needed to touch the few times you have had sex, he knew that. He knew you itched, yearned to use any way you could to get what you wanted. Suppose that that’s why the permanent smirk on his lips spreads to a motion that’s unrecognizable.
He hums in a mocking tone, tsking at the desperation leaking out of your every pore. “I said.” He starts in a low voice, whisking at your restraints to press them harder against your wrists, you whimper at his movements, eyes flickering to his cold ones.
“I set.” He pulls himself all the way out and shoves every inch back in.
“The fucking.” Harder.
“Pace.” The last word rumbles around near the bottom of his throat, his body leaning down so his mouth was leveled near your ear, causing him to curl deeper inside of you as he snapped each thrust.
“Behave, doll.” He whispers soft against your ear, pulling your weightless body right up against him. He starts to thrust into your tight walls faster, watching in amazement at how you took him so well every single time, mesmerized by the way your cunt practically swallows him whole.
He drinks in your noises from below him, every tiny purr begs him to just go faster until his pace is near brutality. You had no choice but to take it all, desperately needing to snap your legs shit due to the friction. You had always been sensitive when it came to any form of sex with Mark, he knew exactly how to reach you to that point in a matter of seconds, with just one touch you melted in his hands, every single time. If he was honest, it’s what kept his energy so high when it came to doing anything sexual for his most prized possession.
His thumb trails down your sides to press against your throbbed clit, rubbing circles that matched with the motion of his thrusts the faster he became. Your back arches off the mattress and a high-pitched gasp tears from your lips when he hits just where you need him to, squeezing onto his cock as your body depended on his touch to survive. He drinks the angelic sight and this time lets your hips buck on their own to push back onto him and match every one of his thrusts.
He can read your mind and movements in a matter of seconds, hissing at the feeling of your walls clamping down on him. He tried to regain his composure but he can’t control how he bottoms out right there at the feeling of your warmness.
His hand wraps around your throat with a strong force in his haste to get himself back under his own control, squeezing around your neck but still careful not to bruise you quite yet.
“Hold it. You don’t cum until I do.”
You nod frantically at his demanding words, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to keep your focus on anything other than his movements. The obscene sounds of your slick echoing at each and every thrust. His rasped groans spitting from his chest as he picks up his pace for the final time. You can tell he’s brought himself closer to the edge, using you as nothing but his own personal toy as he ruts in and out of you.
Your mind is numb at this point the more that you’re forced to hold yourself in, your hands folding into fists. Nails digging into your skin and coloring your knuckles white. Your skin is a shade lighter, your mind beginning to float away as your body slips more into a stiff-like state, like a rag doll at his disposal.
“That’s it. That’s it. So good for me. Fuck.” He rambles out nonsense, words fuzzy and sounded faint as soon as the vibrations manage to hit your ears, eyes rolling back into your head at the pressure.
Lucky for your state, it isn’t a long wait until you feel him tense, hands flying to your small hips to keep him fully inside of you, the feeling of hot painting inside of you in slow strokes. Your body gives out fully before you even have a chance to free yourself with a right mind, letting yourself go with a shake to your thighs.
Mark watches with attentive eyes, in awe at your body as it reacts in a way he’s never seen before. Your eyes are glued shut, nose scrunched up at your release. He pulls himself out of you to see the whole show, your thighs continuing to shake and your hips bucking up to chase a high that far washed over you by now. He knows what is happening, he isn’t that oblivious to think that you’re fully down to earth with him, he actually researched before he actually got rougher.
He didn’t bother bringing you down from your space just yet, he read that it was best to keep you floated for a few minutes after and not tear you down off your faux reality yet. Instead, he just preens at his pretty little angel who did so good for him, undoing the hooks around your leather cuffs, his other hand catching your elbow so your arms wouldn’t snap back to your sides. Next is your leg restraint when your thighs have finally calmed down, a swift motion throwing them to the floor.
After a few long minutes of waiting, watching closely to make sure you were okay, your eyelashes flutter opened as you look up at him with wonder. Memories rush back to your mind of the night at hand but he left you barely any time to remanence before he wraps his arms around your hips and collapsed on the side beside you on the bed.
He pulls you towards his bare chest, thumbs rubbing soothing circles along the skin of your inner thighs, just where you wouldn’t be sensitive from the motion.
“Next time, let’s not question my abilities, baby doll.”
Your silence after his words is enough to celebrate his small victory.
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a/n: repost repost come get your repost. i hope it isn’t too weird, first time writing smut in a long while :)
#mark hoffman smut#mark hoffman x reader#mark hoffman#costas mandylor#saw x reader#slasher x reader#detective hoffman#sawposting#saw x#saw#saw fanfic#mark hoffman imagine
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✩ IS IT NEW YEARS YET?
IS IT NEW YEARS YET? / / I’M GETTING BORED SO, CAN WE SKIP AHEAD?
STANFORD!SAM WINCHESTER X AFAB!READER
18+ CONTENT. MINORS DNI.
✩ BACK TO… NOURA’S CHRISTMAS SPECIAL
summary: the typical on and off couple at college.. everything would be easier if they were just off.
warnings: sex, cunnilingus, no aftercare, regret
inspired by: is it new years yet?- sabrina carpenter
this was the seventh time in the span of six months that you’d found yourself in sam winchester’s arms as told your self ‘this is the last time’.
you had broken up with him six months ago, however evidently, the orthodox concept of being ‘broken up’ hadn’t really taken to your situation.
it was quite strange to describe- you’d ignore each other on campus, in class, pretty much altogether in public, but as soon as you stepped foot in the apartment you and sam had once shared, it was as if the words “we’re over.” had never been said.
sam would come pounding on your door most times, drawing out pleas and apologies and anything he could come up with that he knew would make you crumble and open the door.
after about the fifth time, you’d changed the locks and told yourself, even looked yourself in the eyes and said:
“this is the last time”
there had, so far, been one more “last time” since then.
now, would be the second.
today, he came in through the window, all puppy-dog eyed and frazzled hair, he almost got on his knees to beg you for one more time.
and as soon as the word “okay.” fell from your lips, he was on you like you were water in an empty desert.
sam’s hands were all over you. his hands were soft and attentive, and calculated and brazen all at once. his lips were the same, gently grazing rhythmically against yours before sucking his way into your mouth, all the while maintaining that delicacy.
and then, when he got you into bed, the same bed you’d spent with him, without him, thinking of him, he’d made you come once more than the last, which today, was three. and his method, today, of beating his own record was eating you out.
“sam… sam, please.” you whined out, pushing his face deeper into you, while he pulled back. sam held an admiration for the way you’d pulse for him just before cumming. it was something you found only happened when you’re were with him, which is probably why you’d kept going back to him every few weeks since ‘breaking up’.
frustratingly, your hands moved from creasing the sheets to grasping sam’s hair, drawing out groans accompanied by slurps from him as he continued to bring you closer to the edge you’d been teetering towards the past ten minutes.
with one more long, pressurised suck on your clit, you came undone. shaking, writhing, twitching, and all sam did was watch with an almost evilly accomplished smile painted on his face, before falling next to you.
god, number one on your list of new year’s resolutions was definitely ‘no more sam’ written in permanent ink, on your eyeballs if needed.
and as you stared at the ceiling, out of breath with sam’s sleeping hand around you, you could only wish for new years to come.
a/n: god… i changed my mind about it the plot of this so many times and again, i had no intention of making it smutty it just happens sue me i guess (i haven’t written the next one im sorry lol)
#tortureddarkstar#✩ — noura yaps#supernatural#✩ — enter: sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x afab!reader#jared padalecki#✩ — noura’s christmas special#stanford!sam#sam winchester smut#sam winchester supernatural#sam supernatural
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Everything is Not As it Seems - Part 3!
Summary: You’ve been abducted, and the inner circle have to find you as quickly as possible.
Author’s note: Part three baby!! There will be one last part, I really just want to draw out the ending a bit.
(Part 1) (Part 2)
Rhys’s words ring in your ears.
“No that’s not.. that’s not… possible.” You say, thinking about the past month with Azriel. “I’m really good at seeing through glamours, I would have seen.. I would have seen something.”
You back away from them, not knowing what to think. Was this some cruel joke? Some initiation as Azriel’s bride-to-be? Some payback for the two of you keeping them from wedding planning?
Feyre grabs your hands, removing the bracelets and rings from your wrists and fingers. “We believe Eris had Hybern custom make these, to block out your power. We also think he put faebane in your food to keep your powers down.” She pauses, keeping a hold on your hands, gently stroking them with her thumbs. “We also think the faebane was laced to make you more accepting of things - so you wouldn’t question too much.”
Feyre speaks to you so softly, so gently. She knows what it’s like to be disillusioned from the one you love most, but she can’t begin to understand how embarrassed and used you feel.
You look between the two of them, not knowing what to believe. Why would they lie to you? Then again, why would Eris go through all this trouble to marry you?
“I think seeing these might help,” Rhysand replies, pulling out a massive stack of opened envelopes. They were all addressed to you from Eris. “None of them say much - mostly just pleasantries, asking how you are, that sort of thing.” Rhysand hands the stack to you, “but he’s been sending them weekly for a few years now. They stopped arriving the week you were taken.”
“I’m gonna be sick,” you tell Feyre, and Rhys winnows you into your bathroom. You spend the next several hours vomiting, the two of them at your side as you process this.
The entire time you begin to tell them things in-between waves of nausea. They find out you haven’t seen anyone else in the time you’ve been captive, other than seeing the occasional servants and wedding planner. It seems Eris kept you a well-hidden secret.
You tell them about how Eris saw you every day, sleeping in your bed every night. He ate dinner with you every night, telling you how much he adored you. He spoke of his excitement for your wedding, your future children, when you realize something.
“I could never say his name.” You whisper, as you lean against the porcelain toilet, “I would try to call him Azriel but it would never come out.”
You stare at the wall in the bathroom, still digesting that none of it was real. “It all felt so real,” you whisper, the admission making your heart ache. “I feel like a fool.”
“Mother above,” Cassian says, standing in the doorway, a mixture of horror and anger overtaking his features. “I’ll kill him,” he says, coming to wrap you in his arms. He sits down on the ground next to you, letting you crawl into his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck, and just sob.
“Does he know?” you choke out later on, voice hoarse from crying and vomiting and your voice muffled from burying your face in Cassian’s neck. The question had been at the forefront of your mind, but fear keeping it from your lips.
“No, he just knows you were engaged.” Rhys replies, his tone betraying the cool exterior he’s trying to show. Truthfully, all of your friends were heartbroken at this event, heartbroken knowing that they’d bring you home, but that you would never be the same again. Heartbroken that this might keep you and Azriel away from each other.
“I can’t see him,” your voice barely a whisper, “at least not yet. I- it’s - too embarrassing,” you say, looking away from your friends, but still seeing a sliver of pity cross all of their faces at your words.
-
Azriel had no idea why Rhysand wouldn’t let him visit you, going so far as someone always being on post outside if your door. It was, quite frankly, starting to piss him off. All he wanted was to see you, to make sure you’re okay. As okay as you can be, in these circumstances. He hadn’t even caught a glimpse of you, for mother’s sake.
Not catching sight of you was the only thing keeping him from tearing Eris limb from limb. He just needed to catch a glimpse, then he could tear Eris apart.
Azriel had kept shadows posted to watch the guard change outside your door, and, although he isn’t proud of it, maybe he laced his brother’s meal with some sedatives so he would fall asleep at post outside your door.
Azriel slips into your room, quietly shutting the door behind him, trying not to disturb Cassian slumped outside of your door. He comes to sit in the chair next to where your head lays, waiting for you to wake.
-
“I do,” he says.
“You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant tells you two. He pulls back your veil, his beautiful hazel eyes turning quickly into amber, his features sharpening. He laughs, the sound dissonant across your ears.
“Oh little fox, if only there was a little shadowsinger who loved you.” Azriel began, his hair turning bright red, his skin paling, his wings shrinking. “It’s too late for that love story, but now ours can truly begin.”
“Eris?” You ask, as the male before you has shifted completely. “Where’s- what happened to Azriel?”
He puts his hands around your face, “he was never here,” and he leans in, kissing you.
You jolt awake, breathing heavy at the dream. You start taking in the room, and someone’s sitting in the chair next to your bed, his wings ducking to appear smaller.
“No no no,” you say, scooting away from him. You look down, seeing the black bed sheets, your black nightgown, and you stop. You look around the room, breathing heavy.
Azriel hears you muttering, “I’m in the night court, I’m here, this is real,” on a loop before he hesitantly approaches.
Your breath hitches, and you hold out a hand, stopping him in place. Your hand is shaking, gods what happened to you? “Tell me something only the real Azriel would know.” You say, with pure conviction on your face, despite the tremors across your body.
He pauses, considering this. “On solstice this past year, Rhys won the annual snowball fight. Cass and I think he cheated, but we have no proof.”
You let your guard down a little. “You’re here right now, visiting me, Azriel. You’re Azriel, spymaster, shadowsinger, my friend. Real or not real?”
Azriel didn’t think his heart could break more, but he just heard it shatter again. What did Eris do to you?
“Real,” he states, hoping that’s the right answer.
He realizes that you can’t keep eye contact with him, but you keep looking at his forehead.
He cautiously sits on the bed, a few feet away from you, extending a hand if you wanted to take it. The nature of your relationship was incredibly friendly, the two of you often seeking out the other’s touch, whether it’s holding hands, an arm around your shoulder, or even late night cuddles. You two have always been incredibly honest and open with each other, which is why Azriel starts speaking.
“I’m glad you’re home.”
And the sob that tears from you pierces his soul.
“Az-“ you choke out, “I have to tell you something. I don’t want to tell you, but I have to.”
He watches you, looking like a cornered animal, afraid that he’d pounce on you the moment he saw an opening.
“Eris, uh,” you say, pausing when you hear Azriel’s growl at the name, “wanted me to marry him.”
You look down at your hands, trying to extend the moment for as long as possible, because everything will change. It’s not just the pain of the rejection that will hurt, but you know Azriel. He’s always so soft with you, and the softness he’ll use to let you down gently will feel like a stab to the heart.
“To get me to do that, he uh. He changed his form,” you say, hands shaking, not wanting to tell him this. “He glamoured himself into someone that I would marry. Someone I wouldn’t question why we had to get married so quickly.”
Azriel was following along, afraid of what you were going to tell him, who you would possibly marry in less than two months given the option.
“We stayed in a cottage I own in Autumn, I haven’t been there in decades, I should have seen a connection, but I didn’t.” You take a large inhale, hoping the words will come out strong and steady. Rip off the bandaid, you think.
“Eris glamoured himself into you, because he knew I’d say yes. He glamoured himself into you because he knew I wouldn’t question a fast engagement and I would marry you, no hesitation.”
Azriel reaches a hand out onto your calf, trying to ground himself in anyway possible. His breath hitches, hoping he isn’t mistaking your words.
“You would marry… me?”
You nod timidly, embarrassment shining through. “I almost did,” you squeak out.
“But that wasn’t me!” It’s a sentiment you’re familiar with now, but it still stings. You physically flinch, your worst fears coming to the surface.
“But I thought it was! Now I have all of these fake memories of a relationship with you that never happened!” Your voice starts getting louder, “I feel so embarrassed! He played me like a fiddle! It’s so obvious how in love with you I am someone pretended to be you and I fell for it! If Feyre didn’t come when she did, I’d be married to Eris right now!” You pause, your voice going soft when you say, “I’m so blinded by you, that I never once thought to question it. I’m embarrassed because I know you don’t feel that way for me, but I fell for the illusion anyway.”
The tears were streaming down your face, now. Azriel was frozen at this admission. The words he so desperately wanted to hear, but not in the context he wanted them. He was stuck in his own thoughts when he heard you say, “can you please leave now? I’ve been uh humiliated enough these past few months, I don’t need it furthered by watching you contemplate how to let me down gently.”
“Sweetheart, I-“
Rhys barges in the room, having heard the commotion. He starts speaking mind to mind with Azriel, telling him to leave or he’ll make him leave. Azriel wants to listen to his high lord, but he quickly grabs your hands and tells you, “I would have fallen for the same trap. No matter the warning bells or questionable signs, you could ask me to marry you right now and I’d find a priestess.” He paused, about to leave, “if you want to call yourself a fool for falling for it, you’d have to call me a fool as well. You could hold a dagger to my heart, and I would say yes.”
Rhys’s power over Azriel finally won out, Azriel’s form folding into this shadow. Now that he got access in, he left a few shadows to keep you company and to send for him when you want to talk again.
Rhys comes over to you, and holds you while you cry. “Rhys, I don’t know what’s real anymore.”
#acotar fanfiction#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#azriel fluff#ahhhhh!!!! what do we think???#azriel angst
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Hello! I just found your laundry list of art last week, and I have to say…I LOVE IT! Love the instinct comics, Ford being cool never ceases to make me giggle, and I loved the autumn drawing. I’ll admit, that one had me in tears…made be believe in the what-if’s of my own family. What they…could be like someday. Or what I wish they were. Thanks for the tears, they were much needed.
 Anyway! This is what I came to message you about! Although,…I am extremely sorry for the late message. I tend to check back into tumblr at…weird hours of the night. Heck, it’s almost the next day as I type this. I seriously need to sleep more. So! I had a few thoughts on Stan and Ford relationship, and I wanted to hear your thoughts on it. Just a disclaimer, I’m kinda basing this off my actual life as I find these characters mirror personal events very closely! I am also a writer and soon to be author! Might post some archive of our own content about these two soon. Also, and this is the most important, I have NOT read book of Bill yet. So plz…no spoilers. Anyway, long introduction aside, let’s begin!
In my personal head cannon of these two, which I don’t imagine is “too” different than how anyone else could see them, Stan and Ford have an extremely awkward and emotional conversation after Weirdmagedon. Why? B/c they’re both, to some degree, emotionally numb. In my opinion, why wouldn’t they? They haven’t spoken to each other in 40 years, properly, and they have repressed a ton of their emotions since then. It’s hard to bring that back up. (Speaking off of experience) I’d say even harder for Ford. Stan, thanks to the twins, has learned to loosen the locks on his heart while Ford kept running away from those emotions to defeat Bill. Just like his ambitions, that was the main priority, and everything else later. To me, this would explain why Ford never bothered to talk to Stan properly since coming back during the show. He wouldn’t know how to. If they were to talk, and this is where the writer in me comes out, I’d write Ford as the one that needs it most. He’s been traveling dimension for decades, running from the past that held him back…but he has no anchor now. Stan becomes that anchor, paralleling what he wasn’t when Ford was lost. And Ford…he just breaks. Like, completely breaks. And Stan is there with him, breaking like he is, but still there for him brother. Finally back after all those years apart. And as someone who has been on the side of neglect from one’s own brother…nothing would be me happier if we went to connect. Just like Stanley and Ford. And eventually, soon to be sailing on the seas to connect even more.
Phew…that was a lot. Sorry for the rambling. Told you I had some ideas! So, what do you think? Do you see Ford acting like this? If not…why? Genuinely, I’d like to know. Anyway, thanks for taking your time to read this. Again, sorry for the ramblings. Oh! One more thing, I know you aren’t taking art request right now, but would you be open to take them in the future? Say in 2 months time? Anyway, bye!
Well first off, thank you! I appreciate it! :D
And to answer your headcanon, I agree on it. Stan is definitely more open to talking, especially thanks to the kids. I mean there's still moments where it's hard and awkward for sure. And Ford would for sure have a harder time opening up, especially with the constant guilt and mistakes that replay over and over. And there's always that lingering feeling of "well, Stan has to hate me for what I've done" and it's always so surprising when Stan tells him differently and he never once hated Ford. Sure, was angry but never hated him. He had too much self-hatred to feel that way with Ford. And as many times as it needs to be said or repeated, it really makes all the difference when they tell each other how much they love and care for each other. As Alex said, "they're both so damaged, they desperately need each other."
As for the requests thing, most likely not. Only because I'm entering the busiest time of year for my work so it's gonna be a miracle if I even have enough energy or motivation for drawing if I'm not completely burnt out.
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Omega when she gets to jail and realizes that she now has to big sister four other children. One of which is nowhere near her age.
Going to try and condense some more serious thoughts about these episodes down below so I can avoid spoiling someone as much as possible and not post a dozen times. I don’t want to miss tag any one of those.
Jex/Jek?? I can’t completely remember his name, but the mirialan kid is for sure not going to trust her at all. Can’t say much for the pantoran kid since they haven’t shown much of them so far, but Eva is going to love her.
I think the mirialan kid is definitely going to be skeptical of Omega’s prior knowledge of the facility, Emerie, and why they’re there. Although he might overlook these things hanging on her promise that her brothers will get her, and in turn them, out of there. I can’t help but wonder what Omega and the others will think after about a week and there still not being a rescue. (These two are assuming that she will be placed with the other force sensitive children. Although she may be moved since her blood actually works for project Necromancer)
Crosshair is definitely going to hear it from Hunter. ESPECIALLY after he threw Hunter’s past failure to keep her out of Tantiss in his face. What I think will weigh on his conscience more though is the fact he thinks she’ll be alone this time. In a way she definitely will, but I have no doubt that he realizes he was probably the highlight of her day. He was probably the one thing that kept her hopeful even if he tried to talk down on her and get her to leave. Yes, she had hope that Hunter and Wrecker would find her, but she also needed someone there with her. A familiar face and not someone who just revealed they were your sister out of the blue. Her situation has changed, but Crosshair doesn’t know that. The Crosshair guilt is going to be so real in these last episodes.
Switching gears, CX agents are always a cool and interesting topic for me. While the identity of CX-2 isn’t usually as engaging, I have to say that I’ve drifted from the standpoint of “there’s no way that’s Tech” to “it’s a possibility” over the course of the last two episodes. I’ve seen some fun ideas for who it is otherwise. Personally, I think that they’re probably just another copy paste man with no autonomy anymore.
ANYHOW! I haven’t seen anyone talk about it much, but the scene with Hemlock reviewing the CX agent data and the capsule has me thinking a little harder on their creation/conditioning. The way Hemlock talks about the other operatives as well. “The others aren’t ready to join you” (paraphrasing) seems to show that after the mental conditioning through obviously brutal means, it takes a load of time to physically condition the agents. Seeing as CX-1 was most likely initiated around the same time as Crosshair (I choose to believe that they were near each other’s tables which is why they’re familiar), that took around five months to half a year. In that time span there had to be a lot of soldiers who Hemlock saw fit to be “reprogrammed” but we see very few operatives throughout. This means that if they make it out of mental conditioning, physical conditioning is most likely very dangerous and often times fatal. I’d like to draw attention to the capsules as a part of that physical conditioning. There were several capsules that Hemlock was observing, along with the foggy one that is most likely that new Huyang-lookin-ass operative. If these capsules are the final stage of physical conditioning, it adds meaning to CX-2’s first line, “Why have I been activated?” (Once again paraphrasing). Although the capsules could be for something else entirely.
Also a bit of a gripe, why in the world do you need a new secret-secret operative, Hemlock? You have the commandos, and then the first X troopers, now the CX’s, and what? You wanted a new one? I can’t tell if this man is an overachiever or just way too absorbed into the advanced trooper rabbit hole. Also for you Tech theorists, it’s kinda suspicious that he makes a new version of agents isn’t it? Almost like there’s something…deviant about him?
Completely side tracking here, I really like Phee’s awareness in the station. Yeah she didn’t hear the blaring alarm, but she was in a room where it’d be hard to hear anyways. However, when she got back she felt something was off about the ramp. We’ve seen how slick CX-2 is, so her noticing something is up was a nice touch imo. Also was very appreciative of her caution and readiness with her knife. I love when female characters get to be aware of their surroundings and ready to throw hands if things go south.
In conclusion, thank you for listening to my dump-rambling. I’ve been trying to keep my lips shut so I don’t miss tag anything and spoil it for someone (because I know that I’ll forget to tag everything right). I hope Wrecker is okay. And even if I’m not a Tech CX theorist, I have to admit that I’ve been seeing some fairly strong parallels.
#can’t believe there are only 4 more episodes#the bad batch#tbb#tbb omega#tbb crosshair#tbb hunter#tbb emerie#tbb phee#tbb tech#tbb cx 2#the bad batch s3 spoilers#the bad batch season 3 spoilers#the bad batch spoilers#the bad batch season 3#the bad batch s3#tbb season 3 spoilers#tbb s3 spoilers#tbb spoiler#tbb spoilers#tbb s3
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Two Points For Honesty: Alden Parker x Reader
Tagging: @kmc1989 @mandy426 @caffeinatedwoman @elefrog25-blog @toheavenwmydrms
Companion piece to:
Pillow Talk - Alden realises he's a shitty husband.
Alden finds the letters hidden at the top of the wardrobe, tucked away in the shoebox where you store the other items from your first marriage. He thumbs past the divorce and marriage certificates bearing Kris’s name before he comes to the water stained envelopes, all postmarked with his prisoner details.
There’s three of them just like you said.
If he were any other spouse he’d be offended or hurt that you’d chose to keep the correspondence but he isn’t any other spouse, he understands that these letters are evidence in the continued campaign of harassment your ex-husband wages on you from prison.
His hand shakes as he reads them, each one of the words like a barb prickling under his skin, a reminder of what a shitty husband he’s been over the past few months. Going on the lam with his ex, leaving you behind to deal with the FBI alone, it eats at him. He’d torn your whole world apart and you’d just welcomed him back with open arms.
He's sitting in the greenhouse when you get home that night, a whiskey in his hand as he stares up at the stars through the glass. You linger in the doorway, your gaze fixed on him as you fiddle with your wedding band. You haven’t said more than a few words to each other since the conversation last night and the distance between the two of you it feels like a chasm right now.
“Lisa…” He says softly as you start to draw away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
He trails off then, his eyebrows furrowed into a frown as he bows his head.
“I’m a bad husband.”
“Alden.” You drawl as you step into the room, settling yourself into his lap. “I know a thing or two about bad husbands and you certainly aren’t one of them.”
“Lisa.” He whispers as you take the glass from his hand and set it on the steamer truck in front of you. “I read Kris's letters, the things he says…”
“They’re not true.” You murmur, shaking your head vehemently. “I know you weren’t fucking around with Viv, you wouldn’t do that to me…”
It’s then that he meets your eyes and your heart just sinks.
“Oh.” You say and that numbness, it just starts to fill you exactly the same way it did with Kris when you found out about his affairs.
“She kissed me one night.” He tells you, his voice rough with emotion. “That’s as far as it went-”
“Did you enjoy it?” You interrupt him. “When she kissed you, did you want to take it further?”
“No.” He says forcefully as he looks into your eyes. “It went against every single fibre of my being.”
You can see the honesty of it in him, the sorrow in his features, the guilt that he’s been carrying. Alden’s spent months punishing himself for this indiscretion, one that wasn’t his.
“You don’t love her.” You say quietly as you look into his eyes, your palm coming to rest upon the space where his heart resides. “You love me right?”
“With everything I have.” He tells you, his hand covering yours, clasping It to his chest.
“Then I am choosing to draw a line underneath this.” You tell him, your forehead coming to rest on his. “But Viv, she can’t be in your life anymore, not if she still feels that way about you.”
“I know.” He promises you, his thumb tracing over the apple of your cheek. “That's why I’ve made it very clear that she’s my past and you, you are my future.”
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Lethal Protectors - Yandere!Vampires!Ateez X Reader
Yandere AU & Vampire AU
Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst
Pairing: Ateez X Reader
Words: 6,410
Warnings: Violence and blood. Implied stalking. Past trauma and mentions of a physical assault which almost need in death. Scars. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: Well, I never expected this to become this long, but it's based on a dream I had during a nap I took last night lol. Not much, but I hope you enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated!
The trip back to your hometown was meant to be short. Nothing more than a pitstop, really. Say hello to your family, maybe even some friends, then be on your way again. You never expected it to turn into a full month. A month filled with people constantly telling you to stay away from them.
Who were they, and why did the eight of them always suddenly seem to miraculously appear around you whenever you were out?
You’d go to the store for some food, and suddenly Yeosang and Seonghwa are bickering in the next aisle over about the prices for cereal, while San and Wooyoung gather produce. Other times, you’d run out to grab coffee in the mornings for yourself and your family, only for Hongjoong and Yunho to appear in line behind you, chatting you up about the weather the town has been having lately. You’ve ran into Mingi and Jongho more times than you can count at different thrift stores, that you’re starting to think they might be stalking you.
The odd thing is, growing up in such a small town, you think you’d remember them. It’s not that they aren’t nice people, or so they seem. You just trust your neighbour, Missus Benson who you’ve known for years over eight complete strangers.
Then, the rumours started. Your old school delinquent who’s always had it in for you wanted to ‘talk’. You know exactly what that’s code for, so you started going out less and less, being cautious to always go out with either your parents, or someone you knew to avoid running into an ‘old friend’.
Only, you weren’t the only one that noticed.
Over the past month, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not, you have been growing closer to those eight mysterious men. Yunho and Wooyoung never fail to make you laugh, or crack a smile, even unwillingly. Seonghwa and Jongho are always there with recommendations for natural remedies for sudden aches and pains. Both Hongjoong and Mingi quite enjoy talking to you about music, a topic you never really got to discuss in full with any of your other friends, and both San and Yeosang are great at giving advice, even subtly.
It’s a cold Thursday morning when you coincidentally run into Yunho at the coffee shop. He looks concerned, but as soon as you bring it up, it’s like his expression does a one-eighty.
“Just worried about you, is all.” He smiles politely. “Haven’t seen you around lately.”
The corner of your lips twitch upwards as you tense, “Been busy.”
“Is everything okay?” His brow furrows, concern immediately washing over his features.
“Yeah…” Movement outside the coffee shop draws your attention, and you’re quick to head towards the side entrance. “Sorry, Yun, I’ve really got to go. Talk to you later?”
The sound of the front bell jingling is synonymous with the side door slamming shut, the tall male standing there as he blinks in shock. Clearly something isn’t right, and when he turns back around to face front, he thinks he gets his answer.
***
It’s a misty Monday morning when you find yourself beginning to feel too cooped up in the house. Your whole mind is wound, and every little thing seems to set you off - your mother not muting her phone when she watches funny little videos, the sound of your father’s typing on his laptop. Hell, even the sound of the dog’s nails on the floor running back and forth as your sister plays with him is grating on your every nerve.
Which is why when the mid-afternoon rolls around, you decide that you’ve had enough.
“I’m going for a walk!” You call out, not even waiting for a response as you sling your jacket over your one shoulder, and step outside.
The front door slams shut behind you, finalizing the sudden decision. You’ll take your chances traversing the familiar forest across the street. Ryder doesn’t live in this immediate neighbourhood, anyways, and it’s far too dreary a day for him to be out and about. At least, in your opinion.
Sliding your jacket onto your arms, you’re quick to cross the street. The area seems particularly quiet, but with the grey clouds hanging in the sky, the mist clinging to the air, you understand why.
A small smile tugs at your features as you pause just before the one entrance to the forest. It’s been a while since you went traversing through the woods like you were a kid again, and you can already feel the calming effects of the crisp air cooling your every sense.
Without another thought, you begin.
You walk your old path twice before deciding to sit yourself down at your favourite spot, just beside the small pond in the middle of the woods. A fallen tree provides a natural bench as you stare out across the water, some ducks swimming across the surface.
You can hear the sounds of natural all around you: leaves rustling as the wind drifts through the trees, bugs humming in the background while animals forage for food. Every now and then, you can hear feet shuffling in the underbrush as a couple or two walk by with their dog, holding hands and smiling at you politely as you turn to say hello.
It’s been a while since you’ve fully submersed yourself like this, and to say you’ve missed it would be a huge understatement. Getting out of the house, especially on a day like today, a day with weather you’ve always been fond of, has done wonders for your mood. Enough so, that you practically forget all about Ryder for the moment. Or, at least, he doesn’t worry you as much as before. Really, what can he do to you now that he didn’t back then?
The sound of approaching footsteps trudging along the path draws your attention. Turning reveals a girl about your age with shoulder length golden locks hanging in loose curls approaching you. The closer she gets, the more you realize how blue her eyes are, and just how familiar she looks.
Her head tilts as she pauses in her steps, a curious call of your name falling from your lips. “Do you remember me?”
You smile, standing back to your feet as you face her. “Of course I do!”
She mirrors your expression as you both hug each other.
“It’s good to see you again, Gabrielle!” You comment, pulling away from her for the moment. “I haven’t seen you since elementary school.”
“You look so different!” She chuckles. “Then again, I imagine so do I.”
You nod, sharing a small laugh with her.
“I know we weren’t really close in school, but would you like to walk with me for a bit and catch up?” She offers, motioning down that all too familiar path that leads to the side roads.
“Sure!” You readily agree, already falling into step beside her.
The two of you talk for about an hour, sharing some details of your lives and what you’re up to now-a-days. Only, you see her brow furrowing slightly in worry as you approach that little pond area you first met once more.
“You mentioned meeting some new faces when you came back for a visit,” she chews on her bottom lip. “Did I hear you right when you said you’ve met Yunho?”
Your own brow furrows slightly, “Yeah. What about him?”
“He and his friends are no good.” She warns you, suddenly grabbing your arms in her hands. “You need to stay away from them.”
“Why does everybody keep saying that?” You shake your head, not quite understanding their concern. “They all seem like nice guys to me.”
“They showed up in town about two years ago, right around the time those animal attacks started happening.” She explains. “So many people have been run out of town, or have left because of them.”
“The guys, or the animal attacks?” You inquire, this being the first time you’ve heard anything about there being any sort of animal attacks nearby.
“It doesn’t matter,” she shakes her head. “They’re dangerous people. Don’t go anywhere near them.”
“No, the person I need to stay away from is Ryder.” You comment, gently removing her hands from your arms. “He still seems to hold a grudge towards me since high school.”
“He followed you to high school?” She blinks, almost dumbfounded, at you.
Quickly, you shift your head from side to side, as if checking if the coast is clear. You’ve had this sneaking suspicion that you’re being watched ever since you entered the forest, but it’s only just recently gotten stronger. Once you determine that no one is around, you motion her closer.
“Gabi, he almost killed me.” Your voice is no more than a whisper as a harsh wind blows passed. Gently, you grip the edge of your shirt, shifting slightly to raise it to about the bottom of your ribs.
Her eyes widen, a gasp escaping her lips as her hands come up to cover her mouth.
“Final year, he cornered me in the locker room.” You let the material of your shirt fall back down to cover the jagged scar on your body, spanning from below your ribs on your right side, all the way across your stomach, and almost to your left hip. “Didn’t even use a blade, but a broken piece of glass from the window he smashed to get in.”
“That’s horrible!” Her whole body trembles. “I’m so sorry that happened!”
“Because it happened before his eighteenth birthday, they couldn’t try him as an adult yet. He got two months in juvie and a slap on the wrist. I got twenty-four stitches, and six months in recovery.” You avert your gaze. “I’m assuming he’s looking for me to finish what he started.”
“But why?” She meets your gaze, tears lining her vision.
“I don’t know,” you shrug, straightening out the front of your jacket. “I never asked, nor did I want to.”
“You should get home, then!” She replies frantically, checking her watch. “Ryder and his gang enjoy hanging out at that entrance over there with their bikes in the evenings. It’s almost around the time he gets here.”
Frantically, she starts tugging your hand to lead you in the opposite direction.
Faintly, you begin to hear the sound of motorcycles revving in the distance.
“Hurry!” She tugs you along, sparing a glance behind you only for her eyes to widen. “Shit. I can just make out some of their bikes at the edge of the path. Sometimes they like to joyride through here cause it’s wide and flat enough. Let me see if I can go distract them for a bit. I’ll meet you at the front entrance in five!”
Without waiting for a response, she pushes you behind her and down the path. You can only watch as she scurries off towards the sound of revving bikes and obnoxious laughter.
Reluctantly, you part ways, looking back over your shoulder every now and then to see if you can still catch a glimpse of Gabrielle. Only, the further you get, the harder it is to tell if she’s alright. She took a big risk doing this for you, especially since you don’t really know her all that well anymore, and you both were never really close to begin with. Still, you will not forget her kindness that easily.
At least Ryder shouldn’t hurt her. From what you recall, he was always trying to impress her in elementary school.
Just as you breach the forest entrance she told you to wait by, your eyes widen. What if she did this to set you up?
No. Her shocked reaction was too genuine to fake. Besides, she was never like that before, and you do not think she’s like that now. Either way, she should be back with you in a minute.
Five more minutes pass by, and you’ve still yet to see any sight, nor hear any sound of Gabrielle. Your worry skyrockets with each passing second, and you know you’re not that far from the side road if you decided to cut through the bush. Something must have happened.
At the shriek of fear you hear faintly in the distance, you know something’s wrong. Even that creeping sense of being watched has left you about twelve minutes ago, and you don’t know what’s going on. Either way, you’re not going to leave Gabi to the same fate you suffered under at the hands of this man. If he wants you, then that’s exactly who he’s going to get.
It takes you less than two minutes to reach the entrance at the side of the road, creeping along the trees to avoid being seen for as long as you can. You turn your head left to see nothing, only to turn right and see about six males sitting around on motorcycles, Gabrielle being held in their midst. She struggles to free herself, a switchblade being pressed to her throat by Ryder who wears a smug grin as he whispers lowly into her ear.
“Ryder.” Your stern voice draws all of their attention as you step out of the woods. “Let her go.”
“Ah, there you are.” He hums, fingers tightening on the back of Gabrielle’s neck. “Took you long enough to show up. You know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Let her go, she has nothing to do with this.” You keep your voice calm, hands raised defensively in front of you as you keep a fair amount of distance between you and the six men. “You wanted me, not her.”
“I suppose you took the bait easily enough.” He chuckles, shoving Gabi to the ground.
Tears stream freely down Gabi’s cheeks as she scrambles away. All the other males offer her is condescending chuckles, tripping her as she attempts to escape.
Gabrielle runs over to you, a small scrape cut into the skin of her left eyebrow. Her hands once more find purchase on your arms, soft apologies falling from her lips.
“It’s okay.” You assure her. “Get home safely, I’ll be fine.”
She squeezes your arms, rushing back off into the suddenly silent woods and out of sight.
“So, you’ve finally returned after years of staying away, huh?” Ryder scoffs, standing from his motorcycle and slowly stalking towards you like a predator would its prey. “What made you stay? I thought you swore to never spend more than one evening in this town if you could.”
“Oh, you know,” you reply casually, backing up all the while. “Lease was about to renew, landlord raised the rent, apartment flooded. The usual.”
“Convenient,” he grins, and the sight only serves to unnerve you. “Had nowhere else to go expect dear old mom and dad.”
“You should know.” You reply bluntly.
Everyone you’ve talked to has explained how much of a deadbeat Ryder is. He’s always trashing the town and causing mischief, but he never gets penalized for it. Bastard’s dad is a cop, no wonder he only really got off with a slap on the wrist when he hurt you all those years ago.
“How’s that scar?” He tilts his head mockingly. “Did wonders to improve your ugly features. Too bad it didn’t kill you.” He pauses ten feet from you, that switch blade getting flipped menacingly in his hand. “Want some more?”
You run; without wasting another precious moment, you turn and flee.
The sound of revving engines reach your ears as you stick to the edge of the road. You’ll have better chances of a car coming by than with people walking through the woods this late in the evening. So, you take your chances on a flat path, sprinting along the wet pavement as the mist continues to hang in the air.
Only, you don’t get very far, for two of his lackeys nearly run you off of the road when they swerve in front of you. The others are quick to surround you, but you don’t even have much time to think before you feel yourself get harshly tackled to the ground.
Blow after blow is given to you, blood seeping out of cuts all along your body. Ryder lets each of his men take turns beating you, saving the knife until the very end when you can no longer feel your right arm, or the left side of your face.
Slowly, meticulously, he reopens that cut he gave you all those years ago. He’s not gentle, either, and all you can think of is that this is just like the first time, only worse. This time, there are witnesses who choose not to help you, screams and pleas of mercy falling on deaf ears.
“There,” he stands back to his feet, spitting on you all the while. “Maybe if you’re lucky, someone on their morning commute will find you.” He kicks you one more time for good measure as your vision begins to fade. “If you’re that lucky, this time.”
Nothing but the sound of their maniacal laughter echoes through your mind as they rev their engines once more. The last thing you see before your world goes black is the faint glow of taillights driving off into the distance.
***
You don’t know how much time has passed, but you do recognize a few things.
One: you’re terribly cold. You can barely feel your body, and consciousness is a battle to maintain as your whole being aches with a pain unlike anything ever before.
Two: you are no longer alone.
Someone seems to be calling your name frantically, your body being held within that person’s embrace. Their caress is tender, cautious not to aggravate your wounds any further than they already are.
Groggily, your eyes blink open, whole body tensing as you hear three unnatural roars sound from just off to your right.
“Tell them to calm down!” The voice holding onto you snaps at someone to their left. “They’re scaring her.”
Finally, your gaze refocusses, and you can just make out the features of the man holding you. Your lips part, his name but a muted whisper as you attempt to speak.
“Shhh,” Yunho coos, brushing a hand tenderly over the top of your head. “We’re here now. It’ll all be okay.”
Faintly, you register the sound of someone pacing just by your head.
“This is all my fault,” a deep voice sounds from above you. It must be whoever was pacing, for they seem to have stopped for the moment. “If I didn’t leave her alone to come get all of you, this never would have happened.”
“You did what any one of us would have, Yeosang.” Another voice replies, a slight sigh on his lips. “If we all hadn’t of gotten here when we did, it would be much worse.”
“Here,” Seonghwa comes to kneel beside you, his arm shaking as he brings his wrist to your lips, “Drink this.”
You try to protest, to resist the red liquid which pours soothingly down your throat, but you cannot. You are far too weak at the moment to do anything other than obey, and besides, you’ll probably die soon. So, what’s the difference if you comply with the wishes of a strange request?
Only, the moment the warmth touches your tongue, you begin to feel strength returning to you. Your breathing is evening out with every breath you take, your wounds slowly seeming to close. The pain is starting to dissipate, and you find you are regaining feeling in all parts of your body.
Your vision clears further, and you can see Hongjoong standing off to the side, both him and Wooyoung looking absolutely livid as the sound of snapping branches reaches your ears. Shifting your gaze, you see both Mingi and San rush out of the woods far too quickly for any human to do, dried blood coating their hands as dirt covers their arms.
Finally, the eldest pulls his wrist away, wiping at the small stain of red that coats your lips with his thumb. Silently, as he does so, the six others standing around you converge.
Yunho’s whole body shakes. You can feel it trembling against you as he pulls you into his chest. His grip is desperate, clinging to you for dear life as if you may disappear again at a moment’s notice.
“Who did this to you?” His voice is calm; deadly. Like the approach of an oncoming storm.
You look down, noticing the torn material of your shirt. Your hands shake as you watch that scar you’ve had for the majority of your life finish healing, the line you’ve become so accustomed to fading into nothing.
Blood still covers the majority of your body, yet all you can do is stare at your hands for the moment. Slowly, you raise them, touching the tips of your fingers to your thumbs, and counting to twenty in your mind. You blink a few times, still debating on if this is really happening or not.
You tilt your head, almost inquisitively, “How…”
“She’s in shock.” Jongho comments.
“Of fucking course she is!” San replies, clearly exasperated as he nearly tears his hair out of his skull. “We only found her bleeding out and on the verge of death at the side of the road!”
You flinch at his tone, and they all take a step towards you.
“Watch it, San.” Mingi warns.
“Like you are fairing any better.” Wooyoung snaps, arms crossed over his chest. “Tearing out the whole forest isn’t going to catch the bastard that did this to our ma-“
“Who did this to you?” Hongjoong’s inquiry is a tad softer than Yunho’s as he crouches beside you. His blond hair is pushed up and away from his face, hiding nothing of his expression of concern as he reaches for your hands. Still, he cannot hide the tremble in his own.
Your lips part, voice catching in your throat. Desperately, you attempt to find the words to say, but none seem to want to come out.
A blink, and Yeosang comes to crouch beside Hongjoong, drawing your attention to him for the moment.
“Was it Ryder?” He keeps his inquiry low, tone even as he meets your gaze.
After a moment of hesitation, you nod. Slowly.
The males all tense around you, but none so much as the one holding you.
“He was the one-“ Yunho swallows thickly. “The one that made you flee the coffee shop that day.”
Again, you nod.
“He gave you that scar you showed Gabrielle today.” Yeosang continues, and in the back of your mind, you wonder how he knew that. Though, from the way your injuries have miraculously healed, the rumours you’ve heard, and those roars that shook the area not even ten minutes ago, you’re starting to piece two and two together. “He did this to you."
The way you swallow, quite thickly at that, is answer enough.
“I’ll fucking kill him for touching you.” Wooyoung seethes, his eyes flashing beneath the dull light of the moon now peeking through the clouds.
“Bastard is lucky to still be fucking breathing right now,” San’s chest heaves with every breath, hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides.
Hongjoong stands back to his feet, turning his back to you as he methodically cracks his neck from side to side.
Gently, Yunho hands you off to Seonghwa, who is more than happy to cradle you in his hold.
“Jongho, Seonghwa, Yeosang, take her home.” Hongjoong rolls his shoulders, only to spare a glance back at you in the next moment. He smiles reassuringly before turning to face front, the others coming to stand beside him in a line. “The rest of us are going hunting.”
A blink, and the five other males have disappeared from sight.
Words of protest begin to form at your lips as you feel yourself being picked up quite easily by the eldest from the ground. You’re still trying to wrap your head around the events that have taken place before your very eyes, but the longer you think about it, the more your head begins to hurt.
“Shh,” Seonghwa coos into your ear, turning back towards the forest and beginning to walk down the path with the other two males in tow. “Just sleep.”
You want to fight it, but at the sudden fatigue that clouds your mind, you have no choice but to fall unconscious for the second time this evening.
***
This time, when you wake, the sound of a crackling fire greets your ears. You can feel yourself being held in someone’s embrace, a soothing hand being brushed over your back as you curl into what you assume is their chest. The odd part is, even though you remember everything, you feel safe, and you certainly feel warm.
A small groan escapes you, your hands coming up to rub at your eyes. You manage to push yourself the slightest bit away from whoever seems to be resting with you on the couch, feeling their chest shake with a chuckle as you nearly fall backwards onto the floor.
“Feeling better?” It’s Yeosang.
You blink, quite a few times at him laying in front of you, just casually holding you steady so you don’t go tumbling from the couch.
“Uh, yeah.” You clear your throat. “Thanks.”
Slowly, with his help, you sit up. He helps you wrap the blanket you had been using around your shoulders, and that’s when you notice both Jongho and Seonghwa sit in the same room as you. Each male occupies a separate armchair, gazes locked on your form as they observe your every move with nothing but worry in their eyes.
“Are you okay?” Jongho leans forward the slightest bit, fingers desperately clutching at the sides of his chair as he looks to you.
You wrap the blanket tighter around yourself as you nod.
You stare at the floor, keeping your voice low. “How did you find me?”
The three males share a look between one another.
“We-“ Seonghwa swallows thickly, averting his gaze to the side. “We could smell your blood.”
Before another word can be said from any of you, the sound of a door opening reaches your ears. Glancing up reveals five more men flooding into the room, red coving nearly every free inch of their skin.
Your eyes nearly bug right out of your head, especially when Wooyoung comes to kneel right in front of you, reaching for you with nothing but concern on his features. Only, you cannot help but to push yourself away from him, and as far back into the couch as you can go.
His expression droops.
“Wooyoung.” Hongjoong hisses.
“Please don’t be scared of us,” he keeps his voice low, nonthreatening. “We would never hurt you.”
“Give her some space,” Yunho drags the male back by the collar of his shirt. “She nearly died tonight, the last thing she needs to be is crowded.”
Each male does not fail to miss the way you flinch at Yunho’s words.
“I understand why people told me to stay away from all of you, now.” You keep your voice low, clearing the roughness of your dry throat as you speak.
You notice the way they all tense, expressions falling, even if only the slightest bit.
“Are you scared of us?” Hongjoong’s tone is soft, nothing but a gentle inquiry as he meets your gaze.
“Should I be?” You quirk a brow. “Because I’m pretty sure if you were half as bad as people said you were, you would have left me for dead at the side of the road.”
This time, it’s their turn to flinch at the reminder of the state they found your body in.
“Right now, I need honesty.” You spare a glance around at all of them as you curl in tighter to yourself. “Can you afford me that?”
“Always.” Mingi breathes, taking a step towards you as if he wants to comfort you.
You take a deep breath in, “You all aren’t human.”
A statement which they pick up on.
“That is correct.” Yunho nods, swallowing somewhat thickly.
“You’re responsible for those animal attacks starting around two years ago that Gabi told me about.” Again, another statement.
“Yes and no,” San grimaces. “There were a few other covens that tried to follow us here. We ran them off.”
You can feel your heart pounding inside of your chest as you continue to stare at the floor. The fire crackles to the side.
“You’re vampires.”
A stillness passes over the room.
“We are.” Yeosang confirms, and he notices how you don’t necessarily retreat any further away from him on the couch this time.
You look up, sparing a glance around the room and fully taking in the bloody appearances of the five males who entered not that long ago. Your hands tighten on that blanket around your form.
“You killed them, didn’t you?” The words are no more than a whisper on your lips, but they all still manages to hear.
“Of course we did.” Wooyoung states, rather firmly.
You meet his gaze. “Why?”
The eight males nearly blink in surprise.
“They hurt you.” Mingi replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He hurt you.”
“Why go through all of these lengths to help me?” You spare another glance around the room at all of them.
They all seem to blink in mild surprise.
“Because you are important to us.” Hongjoong shifts to crouch in front of you, gently reaching over to clasp your hand in his own.
“You met me a little over three weeks ago.” You deadpan.
“We’ve been searching for you for much longer than that.” Seonghwa breathes out, shifting so that he’s sitting on the edge of his seat.
Your brow furrows. “What do you mean by that?”
“How much do you know about our kind?” San asks, sitting across from you on the opposite couch.
Your eyes narrow slightly at him, figuring this to be some sort of test. “I’ll admit, I’m rather ignorant when it comes to your ways. I don’t think Twilight or Dracula are good history books.”
Mingi and Wooyoung snort, “You’ve got that right.”
“Basics are the same,” Yunho says, beginning to list off, “We need blood, or blood substitutes to survive. Strength, speed, abilities, all the same.”
“Sunlight, garlic, and crosses are all null though.” Wooyoung shrugs, plopping on the couch right beside San.
“Though, there always seem to be one aspect never mentioned for our kind.” Yeosang mumbles, somewhat disappointedly.
“No, the wolves seem to get that aspect more than we do.” Seonghwa rolls his eyes, sitting back in his chair.
“Aspect?” You spare a look around the room before your eyes settle in on the soft brown ones of the male kneeling before you.
“There are many different words for it,” Hongjoong begins. “Fated, life partners, lost souls,” his eyes flash as he watches you carefully, “mates.”
Your head tilts forward in disbelief, “You expect me to believe vampires have soulmates?”
“Believe it or not, we do.” Yunho’s voice is but a mere exhale on his lips as he looks to you, a certain type of fondness suddenly shining there that you’ve never seen before.
Your head begins reeling.
“None of our kind really know how it works,” San looks down at his hands, beginning to pick at some of the dried blood lingering there.
“It can happen at any stage in our lives, but there comes a point where we begin to feel drawn to a place.” Seonghwa explains.
“Sometimes it’s a hometown, other times it’s where they currently live.” Mingi adds.
“We all felt that pull,” Hongjoong breathes. “To here.” He meets your gaze. “To you.”
“We spent a full year in this area before we realized you were no longer living in town.” Wooyoung’s gaze drops to his lap, a sort of defeated longing taking over his features.
You notice how none of them meet your gaze now, and realization settles in your bones.
You inhale sharply. “You tracked me.”
“When you’ve lived as long as we have, you begin to think these stories of so called ‘fated’ are simply legend.” Hongjoong admits. “So, when we finally felt that pull, we wanted to do anything to keep it.” He squeezes your hand gently. “To find you.”
A sort of ease lifts some of the tension from the room as it settles over the eight of them
“And we did.” Mingi smiles softly at you, blinking back the tears that suddenly spring to his eyes.
“Getting to know you was the next step,” Wooyoung says, a sort of eager gleam shining in his eyes now.
“Of course, we don’t know everything.” Yunho shoots him a pointed look.
“Once we knew you’d be coming for a visit back home, it made things a little easier,” Jongho admits, his fingers beginning to dance along the armrests of his chair.
Your eyes narrow suspiciously. “That’s sweet and all, but you only talked to me because fate told you to?”
“No!” Seonghwa is quick to protest, extending his arms in front of himself as panic crosses all of their features.
“We wanted to get to know you first, before truly deciding on anything.” Yeosang says, noticing how you turn your gaze to meet his own as he speaks. He smiles shyly, averting his eyes in the next moment.
Of course, they’re not going to tell you the lengths they went to just to get you to stay at your hometown for longer than you had planned. It’s not like they planned to let you leave them. Not when they’ve finally found you. Not when you’re finally theirs.
“And do I get a choice in this?” You quirk a brow.
The males all share a look.
“Of course you do!” Hongjoong assures you. “We would never force you to be with us.”
However, sabotaging any other partners you may desire is not completely off of the table. They’ll all make sure to appear as the best options for you. Them, and only them.
You nod in understanding. Beginning to push yourself off of the couch. Luckily, Hongjoong seems to pick up on your movements, helping you up and onto your feet in the next moment.
“This is a lot to think about.” You reply, rather bluntly. “A lot has happened, and I really just want to go to sleep.”
Seonghwa stands. “I’ll show you to your room.”
Again, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.
“No.” You shake your head. “I am going home, and then we can discuss this later. Preferably when over half of you are not covered in blood from ripping someone apart.”
“Oh, believe me, Gorgeous,” Wooyoung grins, though it serves to unnerve your more than anything, “We did more than that to that bastard.”
Your whole body tenses, and you watch as San reaches over to smack Wooyoung upside the head.
“Ow,” he rubs at the tender spot, “What the hell was that for?”
At the jerk of San’s chin in your direction, Wooyoung takes in your tense state.
You blink, clearing your thoughts. “One of you, take me home.”
Turning towards the door you’re positive the five had entered from earlier, you begin to make your way out of the room. All eight of them are quick to follow, Seonghwa offering to drive you back to your place for the evening. Both Yunho and Hongjoong offered, but seeing as they’re both still bathed in blood, you opted to decline.
The whole drive back to your parent’s house is silent, Seonghwa attempting some small talk with you only for you to shut him down every time. You’ve been through a lot this evening, and there’s been a lot of information for you to process, so of course the eldest isn’t phased in the slightest. Ever the gentleman, he still bids you a goodnight, and waits until you get inside your house, and have turned on your bedroom light before driving off into the night.
That evening, as you lay in bed, all you can do is toss and turn. Your mind swims with everything you’ve learned, yet you find yourself more relaxed than anything. It’s as if this is always what was meant to be.
With that thought, you turn onto your side, clutching your pillow firmly to your chest. Not even ten minutes later, you succumb to sleep, breathing evening out as your curtains sway in the breeze.
Silently, eight presences enter your room, completely undetected beneath the light of the moon.
“That went better than planned,” Wooyoung comments, a giddy grin tugging at his lips.
“She seems to be taking things well,” Seonghwa nods his agreement.
“It helps that she already knows us.” Jongho hums, shifting in closer to your bed until he’s right beside your nightstand.
“We still don’t know if she’ll fully accept us.” Yunho reaches out for you, only to stop himself when he feels Yeosang’s hand on his wrist.
“Let’s not push our luck tonight, yeah?” He shoots a sharp look at the taller male.
“Either way, we’ll never let her out of our sights again.” There’s a low growl on San’s lips as he says this, filling the space with a promise which is echoed by each one of his brothers standing around you in that room.
“Nothing will ever bring her harm,” Mingi kneels behind the opposite side of your bed, hand gently resting on the edge so as not to alert you of his presence. The whole time, his eyes remain locked on your figure, dead heart racing with nothing but love as he gazes at you fondly. “We’ll make sure of it.”
“That we will.” Hongjoong hums, coming to kneel as close to your sleeping figure as he can.
Softly, he trails his gaze over your body, noticing how you seem to shiver beneath the gentle breeze that flits through your room. He pulls your covers over your arms, risking a tender caress against your cheek once he’s done.
“We’ll watch over you, Our Precious Fated,” He whispers lowly, hearing soft growls of agreement echo once more around the room from all of them. “You never have to worry about anything again. We promise: we'll always bring you home.”
#yandere ateez#yandere kpop#ateez scenario#ateez x y/n#ateez x you#ateez x reader#polyteez au#yandere hongjoong#yandere san#yandere seonghwa#yandere wooyoung#yandere mingi#yandere yeosang#yandere yunho#yandere jongho#san scenario#seonghwa scenario#mingi scenario#yeosang scenarios#yunho scenario#jongho scenario#wooyoung scenario#hongjoong scenario#kpop au#kpop scenario#vampire au
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Am I the asshole for blocking my friends who I suspect wrote mpreg about “me”?
I (21ftm) have two friends who have recently been writing a story together, I’ll call them O and S, O and S are both cis woman my age. They openly discuss the story on our friend groups discord server in a channel dedicated to this story. O draws the character designs while S primarily writes and they added a character into their story a few months ago who I believe was meant to be me, or at least inspired by me, they’ve done this in the past with other friends of ours who have side characters and cameos, I can usually tell because the character has a name similar to their real life counterpart and a design similar as well, such is the case with “my” character, he is a trans man who looks like me and his name is a shortened nickname of my chosen one.
I wouldn’t have an issue with a character inspired by me but they made him gay and began shipping him with a pre-existing male character which made me uncomfortable because I am very much not gay, the other characters inspired by our friends weren’t given love interests or anything so I can’t say they’ve changed the sexualities of those tribute characters. I don’t care if a character is gay, but this character is clearly meant to be representing me and I’m very uncomfortable with this. People assuming I’m attracted to men is a BIG dysphoria trigger to me and they KNOW this because I told them in the past and when they first wrote this in, all my life I’ve had people assuming I was into men because I was AFAB and I’ve dealt with a lot of “comphet” stuff, I’ve been harassed and haven’t been believed when I told people my actual sexuality, the expectation that I would one day get into a relationship with a man and have children with one was treated like an inevitability by the people around me and it scared the fuck out of younger me.
When they first wrote this relationship, i asked them to change it, i said that if they wanted to put this character into a relationship he could have one with a woman instead, they refused and said they liked the rep it gave, though there is already lots of gay rep in the story and I said that it would still be rep because the character is trans but they didn’t change it, so I then asked that this character could be changed so he wasn’t actually related to me in looks and name and they again refused, which made less sense to me because I didn’t (and still don’t) understand what they got out of writing someone who was basically me into a gay relationship. I gave up because I didn’t want to cause drama in the friend group and other the next weeks I spent less time on the friend groups server and never checked the stories channel because I was still extremely dysphoric and upset. It made me feel angry that they didn’t consider how I felt and dismissed my suggestions.
The next time I checked on that server was a month later and they were discussing the future of the story where some of the characters had children, among those characters that had children were the male character my tribute character was in a relationship with, I came into the chat and asked them how that character had kids, O posted a blushing emoji and said he had kids “the fun way”, I asked further and they said my character also had children and at this point I got really angry and just left the server and blocked them.
Later on one of the friend group J (22nb) dmed me saying that I was being dramatic and that I had no right to control what they put in their story, we had an argument and two of my other friends said I was “ruining the fun” and trying to censor their story and it wasn’t “explicitly clear that it was me”. I originally thought that if you are writing something inspired by someone and it’s making them upset you should stop right? But now I’m not so sure and I’m still feeling very down, I don’t know why they decided to write that in, and especially about someone meant to be a tribute to me, it feels like they’ve taken everything I told them about my dysphoria and distilled it down into something to hurt me.
Aita?
What are these acronyms?
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I have a confession. I stopped talking to one of my good friends a few months ago because of the things they were drawing and posting on their side twitter account.
Me and my friend were both pretty deep into Hazbin Hotel when the first season dropped a few months ago. They’d send me their art sometimes over the years, but I’d never seen them post any of it on any of their accounts I was following them on. I suggested they should start an art account a few times in the past, but they always brushed it off.
Imagine my surprise when I stumble across one of those pieces they sent to me in private posted on Twitter. I forgot I was still logged in on my private account, and I realized that page had my main blocked. I scrolled through their art for a minute and very quickly realized why they had me blocked on my main. Most of the things they were posting there was NSFW art of Lucifer and Charlie (father and daughter), some of them of Charlie as a little girl talking about how sexy she was as a child and how Lucifer should have molested her. I’ve been very vocal about my disgust with similar art/accounts to them and I guess they blocked me preemptively, but forgot about my priv.
I confronted them about the account and they confirmed that it was them, and they said they just think it’s hot. I blocked them instead of responding. I haven’t talked to them since, and I don’t plan on it. It really hurts losing such a good friend, but I genuinely can’t look at them the same anymore. Knowing the things they’re into, I don’t feel comfortable being around them at all.
I know obviously this isn’t directed at me, but I still feel so betrayed. This isn’t the person I was such good friends with, or anyone I would’ve talked to at all if I would’ve known, and they knew I wouldn’t take it well considering they went out of their way to keep it from me. I feel like none of the fun memories we had together were even real, because I never would’ve even talked to them if I knew.
I’m very firmly against censorship and harassment over fiction, which is why I blocked them instead of responding. They have the right to post it I guess. But the fiction someone posts/enjoys completely changes the way I look at them. I can’t be friends with someone like this, and it hurts. I’d complained about loli shit to them many, many times, and every single time, they agreed with me. I’d say “just scrolled past porn of (insert underage character here), night ruined, gotta kms” and they’d say “yeah lmao ew.” I get why they didn’t, but I wish they would’ve just said “actually I think it’s hot” a long, long time ago instead of keeping it a secret. At least then I would be losing an acquaintance instead of one of my best friends.
Perhaps you should consider why they did not trust you enough to be honest and open if you two were the best of friends.
#proshippers against censorship#jackal barks#proship please interact#proshippers please interact#proship positivity#proship#proshipper safe#proshipping#proshipper#anti anti#ask#asks
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From Predator to Prey
AN: as y’all can probably tell, I’m caught up on tickletober & posted all the ones I’ve already written. So things might be a little slower the rest of the month lmao. Enjoy some goofy Tinkoffski fluff for day 16!
Ted was running for his life down endless yellow halls. Sometimes, he would get lucky enough to be released back into the real world, but no matter how much time has passed, he always ends up back here.
"Oh Teddybear, where'd you goooo?" the yellow goat monstrosity's voice echoed down the halls in a singsong tone. "You know I'll just find you again. It's inevitable."
The walls stretched in front of him, making the next exit seem miles away. Ted wasn't as fazed as he was the first few times, but he knew going that way would be pointless. He also knew that that... thing didn't plan on hurting him, but he honestly wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, given the circumstances. Apparently, he'd broken too many "toys" in the past, and was trying to "be gentle" with him.
Of course, his version of gentle apparently meant tickling him past the point of delirium, and then some.
Ted caught his breath around a corner, heart pounding in his chest as he listened to the beast of a man get closer.
"Come on out, I promise I'm not gonna hurt you!" He sounded close now, and he could hear the loud rhythmic clack of his hooves. Ted pressed his back against the wall, wishing he could just disappear.
"The longer you hide, the longer I get to tickle you," he taunted, dragging out the last two words as his voice jumped in pitch. Ted felt goosebumps race down his skin as nervous butterflies filled his stomach. He forced himself to slow his breath; he could not let himself be found.
He could see his shadow looming around a corner, and Ted mentally prepared himself. He could do this. Easy as pie. Nothing to it. Just get him before he gets you.
If Ted was going to act, he needed to do so now.
~~~
Tinky had shrunk to his more human form, intent on dishing out a more humane form of torture. He wanted this toy to last, not like the countless others. He was starting to... feel things for this pathetic little plaything, and despite Nibbly's incessant warning, he stopped wanting to hurt him. And so he shifted to mind games within the maze, torture him with his own fucked up memories until he's gone mad.
And then that got boring, but if he were being honest it... upset him seeing him like that. And suddenly he didn't want to scare him either.
He wanted Ted to like him. Fuck, he wanted Ted to like him so bad. He needed it. He wanted to trap him in his box forever. He wanted to hug him so tight he pops. And yet, he refrains. Instead, he gives him the gift of endless laughter, and Ted still looks at him with nothing but fear in those dazzling eyes. He still screamed and ran every time he saw him. Why couldn't he see just how nice he was being?
He just barely rounded another corner when he was tackled from the side. He landed flat on his back with a weight settling across his waist. What the-
"Teddybear? What's the meaning of thihihis? Hehehey, wahahait!" he giggled in surprise as wiggling fingers plunged under his arms.
“Don’t call me that! Now listen up asshole, you’re gonna let me go, or else,” he threatened. He drilled his thumbs in the center of his hollows, drawing tight circles. Tinky threw his head back with a snort, followed by a string of loud, frantic cackles. Ted paused to let him answer, partly shocked by how effective his touch had been.
Tinky gasped for breath, staring at him with a dazed smile, eyes sparkling. “O-or else what?”
Ted sighed and made a show of cracking his knuckles. “Or else I’ll tickle you for all eternity or whatever. Or until you break and decide to let me go. Your choice,” he flashed a condescending smile, settling his hands right on his ribcage.
Tinky jumped at the movement, nervous giggles pouring out. Ted cocked his head in amusement. “Really? I haven’t even done anything yet,” he taunted, letting his restless fingers twitch. Tinky flinched with a whine.
“B-but I cahan’t just let you go! It doesn’t wohohork lihike thahahahat!” he pleaded even as he broke down in giggles.
“Sure it does! You can let me go whenever you want; you just don’t want to. But that’s okay, I’ll change your mind,” he spoke casually as he began kneading into his ribs. Tinky sputtered and burst out laughing, arching into the touch. “I mean, I literally have nothing else to do except tickle the hell outta you. How long do you think you can laugh before you tap out? Whatever you are, your stamina’s gotta be crazy! I bet you can go a week, minimum!”
“A week? Nohoho! Plehease, you cahahan’t!” he cried out through helpless shrieks and squeals. He cackled and thrashed beneath Ted when his hands lowered to squeeze his sides and belly. He tried to grab the offending hands, but wasn’t able to keep his grip. He screeched and kicked his legs out when he hit a bad spot.
“Pretty fuckin’ ironic how the tickle monster is deathly ticklish,” Ted taunted, vibrating a clawed hand over his tummy.
Tinky felt himself honest to God blush at his words. “Noho I’m nohohot!” he denied, shaking his head as he bucked his hips. That only drew his attention.
“Oh, what’s this? Are your hips ticklish too?” he asked, latching onto the bone and squeezing relentlessly.
“OHOHO SHIHIHIT! Stohohop! Thahahat’s sohoho BAHAHAD!” he wailed as soon as he grabbed his waist.
“Oh, it’s bad? Well it can’t be worse than any of the times you got me! I don’t even know how long you kept at it, so I’ll be honest, I really don’t feel sorry for you! So I think I just might keep at it loooong after you finally give up, just to teach you a lesson.”
Tinky giggled and squirmed on the ground. “Thahat’s nohohot fahahair!” he whined, hiding his face behind a hand. “I-I just wahahanna hahahave sohome fun! I dihidn’t dohoho ahahanythihing!” he tried to insist his innocence. Ted scoffed and barked out a laugh.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said in a mocking, condescending tone. He scribbled across his tummy, relishing in the squeal of shock that followed. “You have to know to deserve this,” he taunted.
“Nohoho I dohohon’t!”
“Mmm, you’ll have to try harder than that if you wanna convince me. But hey, for all I know, you’re probably loving this-” He was. “I honestly see the appeal, think I might just have to do this every time you drag me here.”
“Noooo!”
“That was such a yes no,” Ted chuckled at the strange monster’s endearing reactions. He really could get used to this.
“Ohohokahahay fine! Maybe I dohoho deserve aha little punishment,” he admitted through giggles.
“Glad you agree. Now, let’s see how long it takes for you eldritch motherfucker to tap out.”
“Wahahait, Teheheddy don’t! I’m sorry, I-I won’t do it again! AHA NO! Not there, please! I’m like, crazy ticklish, you cahahan’t!”
“Aw, that’s good to know and really fuckin’ cute! Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to put that information to good use.” Tinky felt his heart racing in his chest; Ted was flirting and teasing him, and he fucking winked at him when he pinched his waist, and he couldn’t stand it.
Tinky laid there, trapped beneath a monster of his own making. And he didn’t mind one bit.
#tickletober#tickletober 2024#tinkoffski#ted spankoffski#tinky#t’noy karaxis#the guy who didn't like musicals#tgwdlm#hatchetfield#hatchetverse#lib#lords in black#tgwdlm fic#hatchetfield fic#tgwdlm tickle fic#hatchetfield tickle fic#ticklish!tinky
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