#the terror fanfiction drabble

[yns-world]

OH MY GOOOOOOODDDD WAIT I LOVE THIS CONCEPT SO FUCKING MUCH.

“I just want me some good Fitzjames x Reader fanfics, is it too much to ask for?”

[olailamajnoon]

Batman, arresting Harley for the umpteenth time: You're going to prison, Quinn.

Harley: You know what I was thinking?

Batman: what.

Harley: That you don't send me to prison. *grins*

Batman:...

Batman: I have no idea what to say to that.

Harley: No, think about it! I could wear my sexy nurse outfit and you me and kitty could have some fun!

Batman: *sighs* As appealing as that prospect is,....

Harley: *low squeal*

Batman: No.

Harley: You need a therapist who can fuck you and tell you about your mommy issues at the same time

Batman: I don't think anyone ever in the history of humanity has needed that.

Harley: (begging) Come on, Bats. They drug me in there! It gets all...spooky sometimes. Not your kind of spooky, the bad kind.

Batman: *hesitating*

Harley: And they feed me pea soup! PEA SOUP!! *kicks a rock and starts crying*

Batman: Quinn, you should have thought of that before you ran away with Ivy and killed the CEO of FutureTech.

Harley, pleading: That was Ivy, not me!

Batman: Uh huh.

Harley: She said he was a plant murderer. And I gotta admit, I wasn't feeling too good myself about him dumping all that toxic waste in the Amazon.

Batman: When things like this happen, you come to me.

Harley: You've never shown interest in plant shit before.

Batman, pinching the bridge of his nose: I can handle it. I know how important 'plant shit' is to Ivy and you. It's important to me too. That's why, next time, before you murder someone, let me handle it legally by scaring the shit out of them first. Okay?

Harley: *hiccups* okay.

Batman: Now. I'll talk to the Arkham parole board about your early conditional release. But I will make sure they give you some truly, spectacularly, horribly disgusting community service.

Harley, desperate: No. Not the garbage route again.

Batman, smiling grimly: Oh it gets worse. Trust me. *begins typing into his phone*

Harley: Oh my god I think I'll just do my time. I'm not going into the trash cans, you don't know the kind of shit people throw out! I think I'll just take my meds and stare at the walls instead.

Batman, looking up from his phone: I'm afraid that ship has sailed. *smiles evilly*

Harley: Oh my fucking shit you monster!

Batman: Remember that feeling the next time your trigger finger itches to pop off a human being.

Harley, gritting her teeth: It's itching now, bitch!

Batman, smugly: Good.

[quietwingsinthesky]

For the Drabble:

Fourteen/Simm

Getting high as fuck on ginger to celebrate the New Year!

happy new year, you crazy people.

Drabble 366/366 - Doctor Who

New Years haven’t exactly been pleasant the past few times he’s participated.

The Master knows that. The Master’s been… involved.

But maybe that was worth it, for here, for now. For Donna’s voice louder than all the rest calling out the countdown, and Rose with her attention buried in the book the Master had given her (“Instructions,” he insisted, “for activism.” The Doctor is pretty sure among those instructions are ingredients for pipe bombs.), and the Master himself sprawled drunk across his lap and purring like a cat.

He only stops to say, “You’d better kiss me.”

The Doctor does.

[patchwork-crow-writes]

30 - To My Maker

I forgive You.

With care and intent were we created by Your hands, and imbued with the Purpose which guides our every thought and action. For the short time that our wills are in harmony, the universe sings for us... but all songs must end, no matter how beautiful they might be. And it is at that coda that You shall see fit to dispose of us, our Purpose fulfilled and our utility spent.

Do You pity us, as You cast us into the trash? Do You glance penitently over Your shoulders at our broken bodies, our faulty forms piled high behind You? It's no matter - why weep for a being that has completed the arc of their existence, a being that has known the rapturous joy of serving their one true Purpose?

Indeed, it is we darkners who should weep for You. For such salvation has been cruelly denied You. No benevolent creator breathed life into Your bones, or lovingly shaped the contours of Your form. No divinely-ordained Purpose lights Your way, no heavenly chorus commemorates Your hardship. Nothing but senseless indifference awaits You, condemning You to a life without meaning and a dark, dusty demise.

Is that why You created us, that we might somehow lead You towards such bliss? Alas, that we should be capable of such miracles! All we may grant, all that our Purpose shall allow, is to ease Your way through the world, to feed You and clothe You, to facilitate Your work and aid in Your play. Through us shall Your life attain some semblance of Purpose, that you may be gifted a taste of the contentment that You so tenderly imparted unto us.

So please, beg not for our forgiveness. For without Us, You would truly be lost.

_______________________________

The Dark Menagerie No. 30

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[thehusbandoden]

Todoroki Shoto (20):

Key: angst -💔; fluff -🤍; comfort -❤️‍🩹; angst to fluff -🧡; crack -💜; slight angst -🩵; Fan fav -❤️‍🔥

Fanfictions

...

Drabbles

Early Mornings 🤍

Just some fluffy snuggles with your hubby and son.

Night Terrors ❤️‍🩹🤍

Shoto has a nightmare, and you're quick to comfort him.

Morning Kisses 🤍🤍

You wake up from feather like kisses from your husband; Shoto. The following moments are filled with more kisses, fluff, and some bantering. | 315 words + gn reader

The Last Straw 💔🧡

You and Shoto get into a heated argument | 1,497 words | fluff ending

'Us Time' 🤍💜

Shoto is tired of barely having any time with you, so he proposes an idea to get you for himself for an entire week. | 854 words \\ posted: 9/26/23

Home 🤍❤️‍🩹 (requested)

Yandere Shoto. He takes you home after you get kidnapped. | 2,199 words \\ posted: 11/08/23

M'love 🤍

You come home from work to your alpha mate, who seems anxious about something. | 312 words \\ posted: 03/25/24 \\ A/B/O dynamics

Headcannons/Scenarios

MHA boys react to you torturing an Endeavor plushy🤍💜

Simply that my friends. Enjoy the chaos.

You don't say I love you back 💜🩵

You're gonna be murdered by some, and you'll break the others. Choose your poison.

How they would react to you going to therapy for past abuse 🤍❤️‍🩹 (request)

Self explanatory<3

You flinch during an argument 🧡❤️‍🩹

Self explanatory<3

Comfort headcannons 🤍❤️‍🩹 (request)

Self explanatory <3

You sing "Soft Kitty" to them when they're sick 🤍❤️‍🩹 (request)

Self explanatory<3 | posted: 9/4/23

Self conscious reader 🤍❤️‍🩹 (request)

Self explanatory<3

First Kiss 🤍 (requested)

Self explanatory<3 | 1,005 words \\ posted: 12/05/2023 \\ requested

Pregnant Reader Part 2 🤍 (requested)

Self explanatory<3 | 537 words \\ posted: 12/06/2023 \\ requested

Comforting Claustrophobia Reader Part Two 🤍❤️‍🩹 (requested)

Self explanatory<3 | 555 words \\ posted: 12/07/2023 \\ requested

Liking the Same Heroine as Dabi 🤍 (requested)

Self explanatory<3 | 711 words \\ posted: 12/19/2023 \\ two different endings \\ requested

Christmas Headcannons 🤍

Self explanatory<3 | posted: 12/25/2023

MHA Men When You're Sick 🤍❤️‍🩹

Self explanatory<3 | posted: 03/27/24 \\ 303 words

And more yet to come! <3

Last added to: 3/27/2024

Main masterlist | Requesting Rules

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.

[justastarholder]

Welcome to The Official Star Holder Archive!

One Who Holds A Star - The main fanfiction!

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY CHARACTERS OR WORKS TO BE USED TO MAKE OR TRAIN AI.

 Links <3

For all the Star Holder Drabbles/Art I’ve posted so far! Since I’ve posted a bunch and people seem to be having trouble finding them. 

The main plot is posted to AO3 and can be read here!

Voice Claims

Sexual Identities

Meet The Parents

Height Comparisons

Birthdays

Lore Relevant Drabbles: 

Marked By The Star

The Forgotten Goddess 

Gods and Magic

Thank You, Sir

Stolen Away

Star Garden

Broken Circle

Fireside Chat

Lunar Tidbits

Coming Out

Gift of Fire

Fluff Drabbles: 

First Kiss

Borrowed Clothing

Good Morning

Early Morning Thoughts

Night Terrors

Join Me

Applying Bandages

Mark of the Banished

Jelly Beans

Shirtless Cuddles

Under the Weather

If You Give a God a Rock

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Reincarnated AU

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Just A Human AU

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Another Bad End

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Aberration

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Moom

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Shirtless Eclipse (Sinful /j)

Size Comparison

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Servants Refs

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Pluto Daydream

Moon Daydream

Sun Daydream

The Funny

Thank You Art (Suggestive)

Hugs

“Clipsy”

Little Hater

Scary Movies

Human Forms

Lunar’s Plush

Uh Oh

I do believe that is all of the Star Holder content you can consume on my Tumblr! :) I hope y’all enjoy these links and that they are helpful for you! 

[lifeinacartoon]

The one where Gary makes himself zombie bate to save mark.

Walking dead take that prompt

barlowen mark and Gary have barricaded themself in the studio because rob jay and Howard become zombies. They both brave it and make a run for it but Gary attacked by the three but tells mark to run to safety and don’t look back.

sorry if it sound a bit gory

This is hilarious that you asked for this particular prompt—it's like you've reached into my brain and pulled out my thoughts!

I’m actually working on a zombie apocalyptic Take That fanfiction right now. The plot’s different, but it’s still got some gore!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this drabble. Just a heads up: it comes with flesh-eating zombie warnings, so if that’s not your thing, feel free to skip this one.

----

They hadn’t expected it to come to this. Mark and Gary barricaded themselves in the studio, the soundproof walls now useless against the chaos outside. Robbie, Jason, and Howard had already turned—zombies, relentless, mindless.

The world was a nightmare, and they were running out of time.

"We have to go, Gaz," Mark whispered, his voice trembling. He gripped the door handle, his knuckles white. "It’s now or never."

Gary nodded, heart pounding in his chest. "Right, on three."

They burst out, adrenaline surging as they sprinted into the open. The stench of decay hit them like a wall, but they kept running, desperation fuelling every step.

For a moment, hope flickered—they might actually make it. But then Gary felt it.

Cold, rotting hands latched onto him, yanking him backward with brutal force. His breath caught as he saw the twisted, decayed faces of Robbie, Jason, and Howard bearing down on him, their lifeless eyes fixed with a hunger that chilled him to the bone.

"Gary!" Mark’s voice cracked in terror as he turned, wide-eyed.

"No!" Gary roared, the fear in his voice barely masking the pain as he struggled against their grip. Their nails dug into his flesh, tearing at him. "Run, Mark! Run!"

Mark froze, his heart pounding in his ears, but Gary’s scream was a guttural command.

“Go! Now!”

Gary was overwhelmed, the weight of their bodies pulling him down as teeth sank into his shoulder. He didn’t have the strength to fight them off anymore. Blood oozed from the wounds, pooling around him as he was dragged to the ground.

Mark’s vision blurred with tears as he turned and bolted, Gary’s anguished cries echoing in his ears, mingling with the wet, tearing sounds of the feeding frenzy. He didn’t look back.

[el-moscorrofio-y-el-mercachifle]

Pregnancy AU- Drabble 2

Holaaa! Aqui estoy nuevamente escribiendo pequeños trozos de mi Pregnancy AU. Esto no es un fanfiction y no crel que nunca vaya a conectar los escritos para hacer un fanfic completo, así que edte y todo el otro contenido de este AU son todo lo que hay sin ninguna estructura real.

This isn’t a fanfic and I don’t think I’ll ever connect the drabbles to make a full fanfic, so this is just a short piece of a story with no real structure.

Si te gusta, puedes encontrar el otro pedacito que escribí aquí here! No está nada edcrito de forma cronológica! Di te intereda ver TODO lo que he escrito respecto a este AU lo puedes encontrar en el Pregnancy AU tag al final del post! Y de antemano pido perdón de que está en Español, sé que mis posts tienden a ser en inglés, pero éste simplemente fluyó en Español!

 Contexto: en este AU Betty queda embarazada tras la primera noche, asi que ella aun no sabe del Plan. Esto ocurre poco después de que Armando se entere del embarazo.

Armando Mendoza ni siquiera se dio cuenta en qué momento había llegado a la oficina de Mario Calderón. Se había movido en automático, llevado por una fuerza ajena, arrastrado como mera basura en las calles inundadas de Bogotá. Las nubes negras, turbulentas, y enfurecidas nublaban su juicio.

Lo último que recordaba hacer, y sólo lo recordaba con relativa nitidez, era sostener a Beatriz en sus brazos y murmurarle con el poco aliento que tenía que se fuera a su casa, que descansara, y que se veían de nuevo aquí en la oficina al día siguiente. No recordaba haberle dado ningún beso, pero en sus labios aún quedaba la sensación de uno y la grasa de su capúl. Sus dedos aún tenían la humedad de las lágrimas, pero no sabía a quién le pertenecían.

-¿Armando, me escucha? -sonó entonces la voz de Calderón. Armando despertó de su estado muerto en vida para encontrarse ahí, en la oficina de Calderón, parado frente a la puerta cerrada y dándole el perfil al escritorio de Mario. Su cabeza agachada casi rozaba la madera de la puerta, y su vista se perdía en el relucir de sus zapatos siempre bien boleados. Armando reaccionó con su voz, y con la cabeza aún turbulenta, sólo lo miró, sin saber qué decir o cómo explicarle su horror, su pánico, su terror, su… su todo. 

No sabía a qué había venido.

-A ver, hermano, venga, venga para acá -dijo Calderón, poniéndose de pie, sin que Armando dijera aun nada. Se acercó a Armando y lo tomó por los hombros guiándolo hasta su escritorio para sentarlo en las sillas frente a la suya. Apenas hizo falta un pequeño empujoncito para que las rodillas de Armando se doblaran, desplomándolo en la silla. 

Armando sintió la poca fuerza que lo había sostenido hasta entonces reventarse, y sintió sus piernas débiles. 

Seguía sin poder decir nada. Su mente estaba nublada, sus oídos taponeados. Apenas escuchaba como ruido de fondo a Calderón hablar por teléfono con alguien para pedirle un tinto. Lo vio levantarse y entrar a la sala de juntas, servir un vaso de agua y traérselo. Lo sintió todo ajeno.

-Tenga, tómeselo. Ahorita le traen un tinto -dijo Calderón, sentándose en su lugar. Armando dio apenas unos traguitos de su agua, y la frialdad del hielo le caló en los dientes con suficiente fuerza para hacerlo sentir más vivo. Para cuando se terminó el vaso, había llegado el tinto humeante. Se abalanzó sobre él como si su vida dependiera de ello, y se lo bebió tan rápido que le quemó el esófago.

-Hey, hey, Armando, cálmese, ¿quiere? Deje eso, se va a vomitar -dijo Calderón y le quitó la taza de la mano-. Respire. 

La había cagado. La había cagado de manera tan infinitamente profunda, que ni siquiera sabía cómo procesarlo.

Oh, su Betty. Su pobre, inocente, ingenua Betty…

Los ojos de Armando se aguaron al tiempo que la nausea lo invadió, y se dijo a sí mismo que sólo era por el dolor de dientes causado por el hielo del agua y la quemada del café. 

Armando entonces cerró los ojos, tomó una bocanada de aire, y lo expulsó lentamente por la nariz.

-Armando, ¿qué le pasa? -le dijo Calderón en un tono que Armando jamás había escuchado. Era suave, como si estuviera hablando con un niño, pero a la vez parecía querer ocultar algo detrás de toda esa suavidad. 

Los sentidos de Armando estaban anestesiados por el shock y terror que le inundaba la sangre, pero si hubiera estado más alerta, se habría dado cuenta que Calderón había empezado esa conversación con molestia por el susto del portazo, burla por su cara de espanto, y terminando en genuina preocupación ante la poca respuesta de Armando. Mario en ese momento tenía muchísimas posibilidades nadándole en la cabeza, pero se mantenía mayormente sereno, esperando y deseando que se tratara solamente de alguna exageración de Armando por cosas sin importancia.

Mario se decía a sí mismo que esa era la causa probable del estado de Armando, pero lo pálido que estaba su amigo, empezaba a hacer sudar las palmas de las manos de Mario en nerviosismo. Se imaginaba lo peor: que se había descubierto el embargo; que Terramoda había quebrado; que descubrieron su intento fallido de contrabando de telas; que la policía venía por ellos; que- que- 

Mario no dejó que el pánico se le subiera a la cabeza si no tenía fundamentos para ello.

-¿Armando? -repitió Calderón, y Armando ni siquiera sabía cómo contestar. 

Así que apenas pudo regurgitar las dos más escalofriantes palabras que lo decían todo:

-Está embarazada.

Armando sabía que había dicho él esas palabras, y aún así le sonaban tan distantes. 

-¿Qué? -dijo Calderón.

-Está embarazada, Calderón -repitió Armando, y está vez, las palabras cobraron sentido en su cabeza. Las sintió heladas, duras, e intratables, pero lógicas. Al menos, sonaban a español.

-¿Pero quién, Armando? ¿Marcela? -preguntó Calderón. Armando estaba demasiado sumido en su horror para notar que Mario había recobrado el aliento. 

-Betty.

-¿Qué? ¿Betty? -repitió Calderón sorprendido-. ¿Beatriz Pinzón Solano? ¿La fea? ¿esa Betty?

-¡Sí, Calderón, Betty, Betty, mi Betty! ¿¡Quién más si no esa Betty?! -exclamó Armando, explotando repentinamente mientras se ponía de pie de un movimiento rápido y brusco. 

Fue como si repentinamente se rompiera su coraza de shock, y ahora todo le cayera encima, como un súbito golpe de electricidad que le había revivido los tejidos muertos al monstruo de Frankenstein. Se levantó de la silla y llevó una mano a su frente, frotándola con un gesto inconsciente de desesperación. Su otra mano sostenía su propia cadera en frustración. Empezó a andar por la oficina como una bestia enjaulada y fúrica, mientras todos sus horrores se le escurrían de la boca:

-Dios mío, Calderón. La embarré, la embarré demasiado. Beatriz está embarazada. ¡Embarazada! Va a tener un niño. Por dios ¿Puede creerlo? -exclamó Armando-. ¿Se da cuenta de lo que significa? ¿Se da cuenta de lo que le hice? 

-Sí, sí, yo también aprobé biología en la secundaria -murmuró Calderón, y fue sólo entonces que Armando se detuvo en su frenético andar y volteó a mirarlo, con ojos desorbitados y la vena en su frente saltada.

Calderón estaba reclinado en su silla, con su expresión tranquila y pensativa. Uno de sus codos estaba en el descansabrazos de su silla, y la otra mano estaba relajada sobre el escritorio. 

-¿Usted piensa que estoy bromeando, Calderón? ¿Esto- esto le parece gracioso? -preguntó Armando, su voz calmada y sin ocultar su desdén-. ¿Cómo demonios está usted tan calmado? ¿Acaso no ve el horror de esta situación?

Calderón se encogió de hombros.

-No me malentienda, pero claro que veo el horror de la situación. Pero si mal no recuerdo, mi querido presidente, cuando YO tuve una amenaza de embarazo con la Fernández, usted tampoco se mostró muy preocupado por mí, ¿o sí? -le dijo Calderón sonriendo-. Este es su karma por abandonar a un soldado amigo.

Y Armando entonces explotó.

-Calderón, ¿escucha siquiera usted un poco de lo que dice? ¿Procesa las idioteces que dice antes de que se le escurra la baba al hablarles?-dijo Armando en un susurro suave que apenas contenía el grito que sele formaba en la garganta-. ¿Cómo puede siquiera comparar las situaciones? Patricia Fernández es una arpía, Calderón, una chupa plata que sólo se revolcaba con usted porque quería marido rico que le resolviera la vida. ¿Cómo puede comparar a Betty con esa vieja? Betty- Betty nos ha ayudado en todo, Calderón, ¡en todo! Los balances maquillados, las coartadas con Marcela, la empresa de papel, ¡rechazó plata por mí, por Dios! Cualquier cosa que le he pedido me la ha dado en bandeja de plata. Todo y hasta más que eso, ¿y cómo le pago? ¡usándola! ¡usándola y arruinándole la vida, maldita sea! 

Armando había terminado ahogando un grito. En algún momento, se había terminado abalanzando obre el escritorio de Calderón, con las palmas abiertas presionadas contra el escritorio, las venas de su cuello y manos saltándose en la absoluta rabia qud sentía, sosteniendo el peso de la mitad superior de su cuerpo. Quería ahorcarlo en ese mismo momento.

-¿Tiene idea de lo que debe de estar sufriendo ella en este momento? -continuó Armando, sin moverse de su lugar, mirando al asqueroso de Mario Calderón a los ojos, sintiendo la rabia pulsarle en cada latido del corazón-. Para ella su papá es su vida. Lo más sagrado que tiene. Don Hermes es un hombre recto y de valores ¿se imagina la decepción que será para él esta noticia? ¿Saber que su única hija, el amor de su vida, salió embarazada por ser la amante de su jefe? ¿No se da cuenta también de las burlas que va a sufrir? ¿De lo que le espera de ahora en adelante? ¿De la humillación que será para ella?

: :

Mario había retrocedido ligeramente en un gesto inconsciente de intimidación, con la espalda aún presionada contra el respaldo de su silla, pero ya no en relajación. Su cuerpo apenas mostraba la menor señal de tensión, mientras sus ojos no perdían un instante del aparente colapso emocional de Armando. Tampoco se le escapaba que todo lo que Armando estaba diciendo, era sobre ella y cómo la afectaría a ella, sin siquiera mencionarse a sí mismo.

Mario había disfrutando momentánea y ligeramente de la satisfacción de ver a Armando sufrir lo que él mismo había sufrido con Patricia meses atrás. Escuchó a Armando en su crisis nerviosa, y fue sólo hasta que golpeó su escritorio sonoramente con las palmas abiertas y se abalanzó sobre este, con los ojos desorbitados y las venas saltadas, que Mario cedió. 

La momentánea satisfaccion de la venganza divina fue disminuyendo hasta recordar todo lo que estaba en juego. Mientras Armando seguía parloteando sobre Betty y todo lo que significaba para ella, Mario ya había pasado el tema y ahora se estaba concentrando en las verdades inminentes e importantes.

-A ver, hermano, cálmese. No quise desearle mal a su mostrete, ¿sí? No me arranque la cabeza, por favor -dijo Mario, levantando las manos en señal de rendición. Casi se quería reír, pero también entendía que la situación era grave para Armando-. Ya, ya, tranquilo. Siéntese, ¿sí?

Armando lo siguió mirando lleno de rabia. Pero finalmente se sentó, dejándose caer como gorila en su silla. 

-Bien. Yo sé que la noticia fue completamente inesperada, pero hay que pensar las cosas con claridad-

-¿Con claridad? Mario, no me pida claridad ni calma en este momento. Estoy ardiendo. ¿No se da cuenta todo lo que Betty va a perder, lo que le causé? 

-Sí, sí, yo entiendo -dijo Mario para evitar que Armando cayera en un espiral de auto desprecio sin fondo, y redireccionó la conversación a lo importante-. Primero que nada, ¿es suyo el chino?

Armando inmediatamente se volvió a poner de pie, sin duda a punto de darle otro discurso o ahorcarlo.

-¿Es usted imbécil? ¿De quién si no, ah?

Mario lo miró un instante en silencio. Era bastante lógica la respuesta, ¿o no? ¿Acaso había algún otro hombre en todo el universo que estuviera suficientemente loco, desesperado y que tuviera terrible gusto como para acostarse con muecielaguín, además de Armando Mendoza y Nicolás Mora?

-Nadie, nadie, tiene usted razón- le contestó Mario. Pensando bien las cosas, no era prudente ni necesario discutir esa posibilidad. Sólo causaría qur Armando perdiera la poca cordura que tenía estos últimos días, se bebiera tres botellas enteras de whisky, y se mandara a sí mismo a un coma etílico.

Pero la posibilidad de una paternidad fraudulenta no se podía descartar, principalmente si esto resultaba más complicado de lo esperado, así que Mario se guardó ese argumento en la manga para sacarlo después si se llegaba la ocasión.

-Pero creo yo -siguió Mario- que la respuesta a este problema es muy sencilla: dígale que no lo tenga, y se acabó.

-Ella nunca aceptaría eso, Calderón -contestó Armando. El presidente se había reclinado en la silla pero seguía evidentemente tenso. Sus manos en forma de garra parecían apenas contener la necesidad de rasgar la fina madera del escritorio de Calderón. Su quijada se tensaba y destensaba. 

-Betty es inteligente, hermano. Ella sabe que esto no puede pasar. Usted está por casarse, su padre la mataría, la empresa está en crisis, y Marcela lo mataría a usted sino es que la humillación social lo amta primero. Usted sabe lo rápido que corren los chismes por Bogotá. ¿Se imagina usted la humillación que sería para su familia y para Marcela que usted esté teniendo un hijo con vampirín? Sin mencionar que se está arruinando los genes -dijo Mario-. Que se haga un favor y no nos complique más la vida a todos, y que no se la arruine a ella. 

[imkillerbae]

Welcum to the shithouse! Call me Killer/Bee! (She/Her/Night Terrors)

I am just some random person that likes to imagine stuff and i cant get it out of my head so i say fuck it let me write it down. helps calm the demons down iykwim :DDDD Feel free to check out all my works down below!!!!

Requests: OPEN!

Masterlist:

🌟 = recommendations from the author (hey that's me!)

Valorant

Yoru

Plush Drama (Fluff) [Gender Neutral] 🌟

Is it a Metaphor? (Fluff, mild angst) [Gender Neutral]

Fuck Buddy Headcanons (NSFW) [Fem! Reader implied]

Enemies to Lovers Series (Requested, Fluff) [Gender Neutral] 🌟

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7 (Finale)

Out of Impulse (Requested, Angst, Happy Ending) [Fem!Reader] 🌟

Dancing in the Dark ft. Sova (Fluff??? Unsure :P) [Fem!Reader] 🌟

Part 1

Part 2 (Finale)

Every Second (Requested, Angst, No happy ending) [Gender Neutral]

In the Inbetween (Full Length Fanfiction) (NSFW) [Fem!Reader, Slow Burn, Updates every week] 🌟

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chamber

Beautiful Nightmare (Slight Angst) [Gender Neutral] 🌟

Sleeping In (Short drabble, NSFW) [Gender Neutral]

Bedroom Ball (Fluff, Comfort) [Gender Neutral] 🌟🌟🌟

Thinking of You (Angst, Happy ending, possible second part) [Fem!Reader] 🌟🌟

[fionajames]

Heyy! Can I request a little something on how you think Echo’s time on Skako Minor went down? It can be head canons or whatever you feel like writing ❤️it’s just that I NEED to find out how he got the way he is because like, wouldn’t he have burns or scars if he was really blown up? And how can the explosion take off both legs at around the waist, one arm, and not kill him? I’m not familiar with that kind of stuff, and I’m curious to see what you think.

Thanks! -Sha

skako minor and beyond

HEY

BOO

HI

THIS IS DRABBLE AND HEADCANON STYLE IG

REQUESTS PLEASE

ENJOY

IDK

I AM NOT A NURSE/DOCTOR. IM 15. IVE NEVER TAKEN A DOCTORING OR MEDIC COURSE OR ANYTHING. I AM JUST GIVING MY OPINION, THIS IS FANFICTION (kinda) SO YEAH.

Echo wasn’t sure why exactly he did it, but a part of him took over, and suddenly he was running to the ship, his shield up in an attempt to shelter himself. He felt the heat first, the ringing sound of the explosion taking over his hearing. Time froze as his eyes turned to Fives, who he could tell was horrified, even through the visor. Echo hadn’t thought death would be like this, painful and dark. As soon as time had resumed, he’d been engulfed in an explosion of fire.

The battle droids at the battle had returned afterwards to find the Clone covered in rubble, clutching his shield to his body and covering his face, his helmet gone.  That shield and his armour had protected him from death, but he was now bleeding out. Upon order from higher ranking, the droids took the Clone to Medbay, where he was nursed back from his deathly state.

The strange position he’d attempted to shelter himself in and the way his body had turned left him with deadly burned legs and an arm. So the medic droids removed all three limbs and replaced them with robotic legs and a scomp link, I think you called it? I don’t remember.

Echo was in such bad condition from the explosion that he acquired some amnesia, and therefore didn’t think that the droids were enemies when he woke up.

The Techno Union did not treat Echo well, not in the slightest, but he didn’t really remember much and was disoriented, so thought nothing of it.

The medics basically tossed him in a bacta tank a few months after his limbs had healed enough to be able to remove the robotic stuff. He stayed there for hours on end for weeks, which did a lot of his healing and since the scars were still fresh, they healed. 

After that, he went through a lot of torturous machine trying stuff. As in, them plugging him into machines to try and communicate with his subconscious brain or whatever. Pretty messed up but yeah.

Eventually, they found something that worked, and Echo was stuck in the machine from then on until Rex rescued him. That’s why he so pale. He’s pale not just cause of the explosion but because of the, like, 0 vitamin D (the Techno Union were probably pumping that, other vitamins and food or whatever into his body somehow but like, no sun, boi pale. Boi vampire pale).

After coming out of the machine, and over time, Echo’s memory worked. It was back to it’s full condition before they put him in the machine, so when he gets yoinked out, he’s all good.

He’s defo traumatised from everything, but still rather cheery - the Bad Batch Echo we all know and love. 

It takes him a little to get used to his robotic limbs but he gets to before they toss him in the machine. But when he gets out, he’s not able to manoeuvre himself normally at first. It would be hard for someone with all their natural limbs intact to do so, but with robotic limbs, it’s even harder.

Had a breakdown when he asked Rex “Where’s Fives?” and found out.

Like, didn’t leave his room for weeks.

I feel like if Fives was still alive, he would’ve gone back to the 501st but kept in contact with the Bad Batch. I feel like cause Fives wasn’t there, he couldn’t bare to go back there.

Never talks to Fox again. 

Fairly.

I love Fox but like, Echo does not after that.

Has the most horrible night terrors, mostly of his time at Skako Minor, the explosion and then just his imagination creating visions of what Fives’ death might have looked like.

Echo’s very glad he joined the Bad Batch, but always misses the 501st. He will constantly do shit that is so 501st-coded, none of TBB members understand. Like, he’ll make inside jokes and laugh until he remembers and then freeze and sometimes cry. 

Honestly, same boi.

Unrelated headcanon, but I fully believe he got the number five tattooed on the back of his left hand, so he always carries a bit of Fives with him. It’s covered so much that it takes months for TBB to find out.

When he remembers the droids are the enemy, he’s disgusted about how buddy-buddy he treated them. 

So basically, his odd position he was in left his limbs burnt, not ripped off. They however had to be removed because of the burns, and then he was thrown in a bacta tank for ages. 

HOPE YOU ENJOYED HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT

taglist: @transmascanakin @skellymom (srry)

REQUEST THINGS PLEASE GUYS IM BEGGING

[codylambertdanafoster]

Fanfiction about Francis

Edward Erebus brought prunes to the captain.

"My father drank this. I won't, oh yeah. Bring me more meats," said Crozier. "The Terror has plenty of swupe sailors."

"OK, gotcha," said Edward. He wanted to know why Little Crozier hit bongs.

"For real, dude. Mr. Blanky drank Tuunbaq's frozen tropic ice."

"You mean Capri Sun, sor."

"Nope. Hurt/comfort and whump shipping were gove by the Admiralty."

"Sophia wouldn't sing it. The ice would tell her to get hamsail."

"No way."

"Go break your sledge. Amputate your slops and cairn. That's an order."

"Grr," Edward sighed. "I wish you could throw seal at Franklin expediton drabble. Pairing on prune drink makes Silna's eyes happiness to Clark Kent Ross."

[autisticwriterblog]

About Me

I’m Riley. I’m 25. I use he/they pronouns, I’m transmasc and aroace-spec. I’m autistic and have ADHD. I love video games and fanfiction.

ao3 | dreamwidth | Squidgeworld | Instagram

Fandoms include:

Alan Wake, Control, and Max Payne

The Owl House

Ace Attorney (including Investigations 2, The Great Ace Attorney and the Professor Layton crossover)

Like a Dragon/Yakuza and the Judgment games

Resident Evil (Mostly Re4r, Village and re2r)

Dishonored

Final Fantasy 7 Remake/Rebirth

Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice, Elden Ring, and other Soulslikes.

The Dark Pictures Anthology: The Devil in Me

A Plague Tale

Life is Strange

Zero Escape

Horizon

Disco Elysium

The Terror

Occasionally NSFW. Those posts are tagged 'nsft'. I also try to tag for personal posts ('personal'), posts where I'm being grumpy ('vent' or 'rant') and common triggers. I also tag flashing videos as 'flashing tw' and flashing gifs as 'flashing gif warning'.

This blog is a multifandom mess, but I try to tag each fandom properly.

Current obsession: Poets of the Fall. This blog is currently 90% photos/GIFs/videos of Marko Saaresto and I don't apologise for this.

Drabble requests are currently closed! More information can be found here.

A masterpost of the projects I'm working on.

[eddiemunsonshitposting]

Night Terror Mini

Steve stood outside of Eddie’s trailer. It was 3 a.m. and he’d woken up to a call from Eddie begging him to come over. So here he was, not 20 minutes later. He raised his fist to gently knock on the door but before he could, the trailer door swung open. 

Eddie clutched onto the doorframe like a lifeline, looking at Steve wildly. 

“What’s wrong, Munson? You afraid of the dark?” Steve asked lightly, trying to add some humor to the situation. 

But Eddie’s face contorted as tears welled up in his eyes. “The night terrors- I didn’t know who else to call,” he said quietly. He fell forward, directly into Steve’s arms who stumbled back a bit while trying to support his weight. 

“Hey, hey,” Steve said quietly, holding onto Eddie tight. “It’s okay, Eds. I’m right here; it’s okay. You’re okay.”

He gently helped Eddie onto the ground and just continued to hold onto him as Eddie sobbed. His thumb rubbed circles on his back as he tried to comfort him as best he could. 

But the worst of it didn’t come until Eddie was finally able to speak again. A chill ran down Steve’s spine as Eddie choked out the words, “I saw the clock.”

[lafiametta]

For @bridglarweek Day 1: “When I was on Old England Shore”

The Sweetest Thing ~ A Bridglar Great British Bake Off AU

Not in a million years had Henry ever expected to make it onto the show. 

The whole thing had started off mostly as a joke, just a way to appease his mum and put a damper on her insistence that he was as brilliant a baker as the ones they saw onscreen each week. “Oh, just look at them Swiss Rolls,” she scoffed, as they sat side-by-side on the sofa. “Can’t hold a candle to your vanilla hazelnut.” But a few weeks after he sent in his video application, he got a call from a producer. It must have gone well, because there was another a week later from a casting director, asking if he could do a screen test, and after three days of auditions, a call came from an even more senior producer with the unbelievable news that he had made the final cut. 

During filming, he tried not to put too much pressure on himself to win any of the challenges—or even end up as one of the judges’ favorites. He wanted to impress them, of course (especially Mary), but mostly he was just there to enjoy himself and get to know some of the other contestants. 

Besides being super talented bakers, they were all funny and kind—with the possible exception of Cornelius, who spent the most of the time in between takes secretly slagging on the producers—and Henry couldn’t get enough of watching them in their element. A few, like Silna and Dundy, were straight-up geniuses, with a level of passion and creativity that kept pushing Henry to up his game.

And then there was John.

John Bridgens, a librarian from Maidstone, mostly kept to himself during the first few weekends of filming. During one episode, though, he ended up at the workstation just behind Henry, and polite banter turned into chatting while they both worked. It turned out that they had a lot in common besides baking: they both loved books and old movies and, Henry was happy to learn, John was also single. 

After that, Henry couldn’t wait for each new filming weekend, in the off chance that he and John would be assigned to adjacent workstations. They got to know each other even better after one of the filming weekends ended, when John offered to give him a lift back south, rather than Henry having to deal with the overcrowded coach. They talked the whole ride down, John’s dark eyes crinkling with warmth every time he cracked a grin, and Henry secretly hoped the drive would last forever. 

As the filming continued, Henry found himself working harder and harder for each challenge: his meringues had never been lighter, his palmiers more delicate. It was enough that even the other contestants took notice. But it wasn’t because he wanted to win the competition, he realized. It was because he didn’t want to leave. 

He was falling for John Bridgens—and if John felt the same way, it was hard to imagine any better prize than that. 

[flutteringdreams-matw]

Torrent of Terror (Road to Normal 4)

Summary: “What if season 3 happened… but Danny’s parents knew his secret.” These are the small moments througout a few of the episodes.

"Sweetie, you busy?" Maddie asked as she pried the door open. When he didn't respond, Maddie frowned, opening the door fully. She gasped.

Danny was arguing… with himself.

Phantom floated a few feet above the ground, a defiant eyebrow raised at his human half who's crossed armed glare would send ghosts flying even without the glowing green eyes.

"I don't," Danny said tersely. "This is all just some stupid thing that my brain just made up for you to come and annoy me."

Phantom scoffed. "Ethelwulf told you we split 'cause you're lying to yourself. Which you are - you totally like her."

"I do not like her. At least - not like that."

Maddie watched in amusement, crossing her arms and leaning against the door as she watched the two of them argue. It was interesting to see this aspect of his powers - Fenton and Phantom as mirror reflections, different but roughly the same. She heard the same sarcastic tone Phantom was currently using from Danny a myriad of times. Danny's stubborn, determined glare on Phantom's face in an intense battle.

They were two sides of the same coin.

As the two boys argued over his feelings over Sam, Maddie's amusement turned into fondness for them both. Fenton and Phantom; both of them her Danny. "Sweetheart, you got a second?"

Both boys jumped, turning to the door with half surprised, half mortified faces. "Mom?" they said in unison. Danny's left eye turned green, making Phantom disappear. "How - uh… how long were you standing there?"

Maddie chuckled. "Don't worry about it Danny," she said with a smile. She came over to his bed and patted beside her. Danny frowned, making his way over. "I wanted to ask about Vortex."

Danny glowered. "Don't remind me," he said angrily. "The one time I can use ecto-storm powers with ease is the one time I get electrocuted by a powerful weather ghost. Doubt I'll get them under control in time before I meet Ethelwulf for training."

She smiled sympathetically. "Actually, I wanted to ask how he got here. Vlad's blaming -" she cut herself off, watching as Danny's eyes turned green in anger at the mention of the mayor. "Danny? Your eyes are glowing."

Danny blinked, confused as they faded back into the regular blue she was familiar with. He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry," he said. "That happens sometimes when I get angry."

"I know," she said gently. It had been months after all. Maddie took a deep breath. "I was saying, Vlad's trying to blame you, but considering it was his machine that caused the rain… Was it Plasmius?"

Danny looked at her, scrunching his face up in disdain. "Yeah," he replied. "I tried to -"

"I know Sweetie," she said softly. "I saw. Your sister tried to cover for you by the way; it looks like you aren't the only one holding onto past secrets."

Danny gave her another sheepish smile. "Sorry."

Maddie chuckled. "It's fine. We made it, didn't we?"

Danny chuckled. "A little late but yeah, you did."

"You've really come a long way Danny," Maddie told him, ruffling his hair gently. He swatted her away with a smile. "I remember the Ghost Boy's first few fights - Vortex must have been strong."

Danny shrugged. "Yeah, but we got him. He's back with the Observants now."

Maddie sighed exasperatedly. "Danny," she admonished. She gave him a small smile. "I'm proud of you."

He blinked, surprised at the praise. "Really?" he asked hopefully.

She brought him into a hug. "Really."

Eye for an Eye

Infinite Realms

Girls Night Out

Read on AO3 Feel free to suggest other scenes.

[gone-grl-gone]

Tagged by: @silverfoxstole

“Yo! I heard you like to talk. That story about the Chinese Sniper shot- I think it’s a load of horse balls! You’re going to have to do better than that!” (Reader) barked into the darkness. Where is Sir Chatterbox Fitzjames?

“SHAAANE! Your strategy of obtuseness is not working”

[re-writing the drabble fic draft of Ghost Files x The Terror.]

LINK TO THE FIC: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41722116

Tagged by @isolarrwilde (thank you!) to post the last line of the most recent thing I wrote and tag as many people as it has words.

“About that gun, sir…”

From the second bears post yesterday.

Tagging @amalthea9 @sanguinarysanguinity @aragarna @gone-grl-gone 

If anyone else wants to play, please do!