#sawyer!shattered

[galacii-gallery]

@zu-is-here read ur tags and made this

#art #myart #my art #au #aus #utmv #oc #studio au #sawyer!shattered #dream #sawyer #unintentional gay

[bindi-the-skunk]

Shattered seashells chapter one

Who wears your face

The crew and the league took advantage of the day to go onto shore for personal items or even just to enjoy a stroll on a surface that didn't move. However, the captain of said ship chose to stay on his vessel. Nothing on land interested him at that particular moment.

Nemo was mildly examining a seashell that Skinner had gifted him with after the man had broken the trunk off his Ganesha statue during an intoxicated state, and well, the sea captain was still very irritated with the self-proclaimed 'gentleman thief; the figure was fixable, and the shell did prove to be a rather lovely apology gift.

The seashell had rainbow swirls around the top before fading into a dark blue near where the old occupant of the exoskeleton would have popped out of before it found a new home or grew another one.

Wonder what species had called this shell home? It was like no other shell he had seen, perhaps a yet-undiscovered crab? An exciting prospect for sure. There was something new to uncover, and all from their resident invisible man finding a seashell.

A mild chuckle came from Nemo's throat as he thought of Skinner, of all people discovering a new creature of the sea; such a boost to the ego would undoubtedly leave the man almost intolerable for weeks to come.

A sudden sound made Nemo drop the shell to the ground, where it cracked but didn't break, and the captain felt a minor wave of disappointment and annoyance at his clumsiness with his friend's gift before registering what had caused it.

That was a scream

And a familiar one at that, Nemo bit back a groan as he prepared to deal with the problem.

The day had started out so peacefully, but such things never seemed to last for long around here. Suppose someone else got a bit of cabin fever and wanted to enjoy the morning with the rest of them.

The captain ran as fast as his legs would allow to the source of the bloodcurdling noise as it echoed, and this nearly caused him to trip over said cause, barely catching himself on a nearby railing to avoid falling, wincing a bit as the muscles in his arm were pulled harshly at this action. Still, it went to the back of his mind as he observed his friend.

Doctor Jekyll was on his back, eyes blown wide but unseeing as his limbs contorted, screaming even louder as if he was being murdered. Nemo knew if he were transforming, there would be no stopping it, but the moment Mr. Hyde appeared, he was getting the full force of the captain's wrath at peace being disturbed.

But after a few seconds of no change in appearance and flecks of red splattering onto the walls proved nothing of that sort was happening and what was, was arguably worse in the circumstances.

Blood coated Henry's hands from what appeared to be broken glass if the shattered mirror out of the corner of Nemo's eye was anything to go by, a few large shards visible in the wounds. The Doctor kept thrashing around, his screams now hoarse, and the Indian could only briefly wonder why he was the only one who had been alerted by the cries.

Everyone could not be gone into the town other than himself and Jekyll, could they? Or did they also guess the problem and not wish to deal with the brute and promptly make themselves scarce?

More blood splashed to the floor as the glass shards embedded themselves into more of the Doctors body.

Nemo was on him in a blink.

The ordinarily stoic Indian's face contorted in his efforts to turn the other man onto his stomach to prevent his friend's apparent seizure from doing any more damage to himself, pushing against the other body hard to slide him away from the majority of the glass and Nemo grunted as a sharp sting went across his face as a serrated piece of glass from Jekyll's wounds found itself dragged across the captain's flesh.

The wound bled fast, but Nemo was grateful it had not been something more vital that had been sliced open, and lower a swing and the thing cut would have been his throat.

Pinning the Doctor's body using his own weight was easier said than done as more glass shuffled around despite the Indian's attempts, more seemed to fall from nowhere, and Nemo was grateful for his thick clothing preventing more cuts to his person as he tried to figure out how to reach help since it seemed everyone was out of earshot. However, he could not just wait to be stumbled upon by one of the league.

The captain would be unable to carry Henry by himself; the Doctor was not a heavy man despite all the cook's attempts to stuff him like a goose, but he was taller, which would prove tedious to try and figure out how to carry him in a way without risking further injury to them both, and even if Jekyll was closer to Nemo in height, thrashing about with glass in his body was still a risk Nemo did not want to take.

Thinking fast, Nemo used the belt of his coat to tie the Doctor's hands together, the skin of the other cold and clammy under his hold, glass stinging his own hands in the process of looping the rest around a handrail to act as an anchor, hoping the makeshift restraint would hold till the captain could fetch more help and perhaps keep the glass from doing any more harm to Jekyll or others.

Now to find help, then to figure this mess out, where was everyone? Miss Harker would be preferable for her medical skills, but he would have taken Quatermain if just for the extra hands.

A high-pitched whistle came from the direction of the kitchen before it went silent again.

Nemo wasted no time bolting for the dining area door, throwing open the sliding bypass in his way, about to shout he needed assistance, and almost drew back at what he saw standing in front of him.

In his bedrobe and hair wet, Doctor Jekyll poured tea into a china cup, not a speck of blood on him and a contented smile on his face as he picked up the beverage before raising his head to observe the captain.

"Oh, hello Nemo, you are just in time; care for some-what is that on your shirt, did you-you're bleeding!"

The delicate teacup uncaringly shattered on the hard floor as Jekyll went into doctor mode, rushing over after grabbing a towel to hold to the captain's wound, gently leading the shocked Nemo over to a chair to sit down, of which the man offered no resistance.

"What happened? You look like you have seen a ghost," Henry asked, putting his hand on Nemo's forehead, grimacing a bit when he felt that the other man was warmer than he would have liked. "You have a mild fever; I'm going to-"

"I'm alright. You must come with me; it's important," Nemo responded before standing back up as Jekyll tried to convince him to relax, he had another job to do, and the captain did not want his friend out of his sight till it was done, something was very wrong here.

"Now, Captain, sit back do-AH!"

With the strength of a much younger man, Nemo pulled Henry by his sleeve, ignoring the complaints and calls for him to calm down. It all became white noise in his desire to solve this puzzle.

They reached the spot in record time, and Nemo let Henry take his arm back as he looked around, frowning even deeper at the scene, or rather, its lack of one.

Nothing

Not a drop of blood or fragment of glass, and certainly no thrashing doppelganger of Doctor Jekyll tied to a railing.

"There was a broken mirror right here, and someone was injured," Nemo said, as calmly as possible, no need for the Doctor to think him mad by telling him that the injured man was Henry himself. "They were convulsing and had glass in their hands."

"So that's how you got cut," Jekyll said softly, a hint of an emotion that Nemo could not place in his voice, mind too distracted to pinpoint it "another crew member must have found them and put the poor man in the infirmary before cleaning up the glass, we need to go there anyway so I can clean that cut on your face before it gets infected, and you can check on the crew member."

Nemo knew that was impossible but said nothing; he needed more evidence before he mentioned anything; it only took him a few minutes in the kitchen. He knew no more than five minutes had passed since the incident.

Certainly not enough time to drag someone convulsing to the infirmary, after untying them no less, then coming back to clean up every speck of glass before Nemo had managed to fetch Henry and bring him to the site.

But admittedly, the infirmary was the best option for finding the doppelganger. Significantly injured as they were, perhaps a few of the crew had found them, and that explained how quickly it had been cleaned up; Nemo's staff was efficient.

Perhaps the crew member was simply a look-alike? And the man was prone to fits? And with the right cleaning equipment, someone could have made quick work of the glass.

It was the only explanation he could reach at the moment.

Rest of story here https://archiveofourown.org/works/38834205/chapters/97108671

#league of extraordinary gentlemen au #league of extraordinary gentlemen #Shattered seashells lxg #captain nemo #nemo #dr henry jekyll #henry jekyll #lxg #tom sawyer #mina harker

[personallysunny]

Shattered can probably start fake crying really easily with all the built up emotions he has and manipulates other into doing whatever he wants

He's he eh

#just reminds me of sawyer(bc shattered acting) #smooching sawyer btw #scrambled #anonymous #shattered💞

[help-im-a-gay-fish]

@zu-is-here I contributed! I wasn't planning on posting anything till darkcream week, but leave it to this to inspire me. You can't tell me that if he's British, this wouldn't come up.

Original shattered dream and Sawyer belongs to @galacii

And zudio by @zu-is-here

P.s if anyone doesn't know this meme, it's about how the British accent can twinge when we say bottle of water

#undertale au #my art #undertale multiverse #sansest #sanscest #whats this ship called? double dream? #idk #but this woulddd happened #as a english girl with an American girlfriend this does happen #cant resist a classic enemies to lovers kinda thing #and cross kinda shipped with both of them #mmmmm thats goooood soup #studio #studio verse #studio au #shattered x dream #poly name for those two x cross is Double Cream #never tagged gala in anything before i hope thats ok

[angled-blade]

Omg Slashers with a super athletic reader? Preferably a runner and fucking outruns them? Perhaps gender neutral??

Slashers with an athletic reader

Slashers; Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer, Ghostface (Billy Loomis + Stu Macher), Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers (OG + RZ), Thomas Hewitt Warning(s): Vulgar language, deliberate mention of violence and murder. Type: Ambiguous | Headcanons

It’s safe to say that each of them had varied reactions.

• Billy Lenz

For the many years that Billy had remained to strike at the victims who live in the sorority home, not one of them did he expect to run from him. He also did not expect to encounter someone who was much more faster than he was. Billy initially thought that it was funny at first, recalling how none of the others did it, but it got him much more angrier after a couple of minutes.

— You had shoved the man with all your might, your dominant hand slapping the weapon out of his hands. A loud shatter ensued the moment it hit the ground, leaving the man in a temporary shock at your defiance against death—you could almost pinpoint when he became enraged.

“You pig bitch!” You could hear the man yell, his voice hoarse from having done so a good feet away.

You didn’t expect to get so far away from a killer who had been so careful with all his kills so far. Maybe he wasn’t right in the head, something that led to this disaster surely couldn’t be the work of a murderer who perfected his craft. You slowed down when his voice became softer the further you ran. You leaned against a tree, gulping down your anxiety as you looked around.

In front of you was the sight of a few houses, alongside a street you recognised—You’ve ran that far, so much so, that it had led you home. No wonder you couldn’t hear the angered man’s voice anymore.

“Thank god.” was your only response, quickly entering your home and locking it shut. You made quick work to clear your mind in some way, falling asleep despite your best efforts to remain alert. There you were, unaware of the now silent man’s stare.

The man’s gaze trailed onto your sleeping form from the window, before his attention moves onto the upper storey of your home.

It seemed you had an attic, too. —

Expect Billy right on your tail no matter how far you were from him, as he chases you down with bated breath.

• Bubba Sawyer

Bubba was used to the victims running away in an attempt to escape. Having you was, of course, difficult—you narrowly missed his lunges just by fraction. It had him throw a larger tantrum than before. Having you run about as carelessly as you did had him extremely anxious, the visual reminding him of his first runaway victim. 

— Bubba couldn’t handle the idea of you running away, really. It brings him back to those days in ’74, where that girl had escaped him. This was the third time in a row where you booked it to run, and yet another time for him to react on autopilot and cage you in his arms ever so tightly.

You kept screaming, your voice becoming scratchy and weak as you pleaded with Bubba—or anyone, really. He felt some form of remorse about it, letting you go quietly, which was an opportunity you took advantage of quickly as you dashed down the road.

All could have been well, maybe, until Nubbins dragged you back from your legs. Those screams returned and Bubba couldn’t do anything about it this time around.

Seeing how you returned to the Sawyer home, Bubba realised that he could catch you easily. If Nubbins could, he could do so as well. 

He stares at you, having heard the screams stop, his head tilted curiously. You stare back at him knowingly, seeming calm now that Nubbins and Drayton had left. 

Bubba realised now that he never really knew anything about you, even the life that you had before. You came here with nobody, so he had no idea why you didn’t escape as you did.

He doesn’t understand what reason it was that you returned to their territory, he’s curious, but you pose a threat to the Sawyers—that meant he had to keep you.

Oh, you stress him out. —

Expect him to be rougher when he does catch you, just because Bubba’s exhausted doesn’t mean that he would just let you get away.

• Ghostface

  • Billy Loomis

Sure, it was expected that the majority of Ghostface’s victims were to put up a little bit of a fight. He, however, has never anticipated to encounter someone who would have put up a similar fight as you did. You were on the track team, closely tied to Sidney in all sorts of ways. Though, it seemed as though you had other plans.

— ‘It’s expected. This is what you should expect every once in a while.’ Billy reminded himself, flicking his wrist as he took a moment to catch his breath. He has remained silent for this long, there is no way is he going to use his voice on you, seeing how you could easily escape—a benefit for being on track and field, he supposed—and tell the authorities that it was his voice. 

The more he repeated the thought in his mind, the more he felt angered at the little process that he has made getting everything over with you.

He called off on killing you tonight, deciding on planning how he could get rid of you in a lot more gruesome way. Maybe to taunt your team, he could always take polaroids of your dismembered legs and send them as ‘good luck’ gifts. To fuck around even more, maybe even sneak some pieces of you in their home—incriminating them instead.

He thought of many more ways to ruin you, a grin hidden by his mask as he disappeared into the thick of the forest, retracing his steps back home as he snuck back in by the window. He’s gotta greet Stu tonight about the change in plans. 

Billy honestly wanted to be back at your home, your blood on the floor as the life drained from your eyes as you gasped for air. He should try strangling you, just like Stu did with rope last Christmas.

Yeah, some of the victims picked by the two are bound to be better runners than others, but fuck were you annoying. —

Expect a more sadistic Ghostface hunting you down, the dagger in his hand with every swing to match your pace.

  • Stu Macher

Stu finds it exhilarating, really. Someone is actually smart enough to leave—and even better, is able to outrun him! His victims, to an extent, did escape his clutches once or twice. Though, none of those on his hit-list ever made it out alive by the end of the night—not until you, which has you promoted as his favourite chase out of practically every victim he’s gotten.

— Stu stared at your running figure, feeling giddy once more. There you go, his favourite victim! If he felt the need to put in any effort to really kill you, he would have, but how could he resist tasting the fear that your body exuded in waves? 

Those teary eyes you had when you were cornered? The glint of hope that resolved itself in your eyes when you found a route to escape? Oh, all your miniscule expressions has him excited, seeing how you restrict yourself from showing too much to Ghostface, but plenty to him.

The duality interests him a whole lot. He likes seeing the contortions of every muscle that has you tensing up when he reenacts movement that he had done on one of those very nights—just to taunt you, but to also see how you’d react and if you were smart enough to make connections.

He’s lost interest in killing you, really! Maybe he could show you a few parts of your friends as tokens of appreciation for participating in their game and playing it so well.

Stu honestly wanted to see you shatter before him; be it on these nights he visits you as Ghostface, or you breaking down in school and turning to him for comfort.

Oh, he can’t wait. —

Expect a rather playful Ghostface greeting you, the dagger’s blade lightly nicking you a few times each time he caught up to you.

• Jason Voorhees

Jason had run-aways often, the window of opportunity being possible with him being incapacitated beforehand, though it was always temporary. Nothing of the sort happened, and yet he was still unable to get rid of you. You had the ability to escape him and live to tell the tale, why would you return to him?

— Jason’s good eye trained on you as he walked in large, domineering strides, following you from a much closer distance. Despite that, he remained ever so silent, making you almost unsure of how close you were to escape. 

How the hell were you supposed to tell the police department? A masked killer who looked eerily to the infamous Jason Voorhees killed your friend and was after you? How were you going to explain to them why you were in Camp Crystal Lake? Were you supposed to leave out some details? Leave out the fact that you were in there, maybe, and that you were concerned for a friend?

Fuck, thinking while running was not a good idea. You got sidetracked and lost sight of where you were headed along the way. You were already in the thick of the forest, the sight of a road from afar one that you focused on in an instant. 

You gulped down your fear, not wanting to face the wrath of the killer that you and your friend had unknowingly incurred. 

You saw the road become closer, until you were a few meters away. You felt relief reach your aching muscles, only for them to tense up once more.

A large hand, its skin gray and rough, gripped onto your dominant wrist. You could only let out a wail as he drug you back, his nail digging into your skin as a warning. —

Expect an extremely focused Jason for every time that he catches a glimpse of you, a feeling washing over him with each time that he follows you.

• Michael Myers

  • ’78/OG

OG expected you to do so after you (quickly, he noticed) realised that he was no average Halloween participant. He, however, did not expect you to disappear from his sight as quickly as you did. He will (just barely, that he ignored) catch a glimpse of you in the very distance, a rush of energy flowing through him as if he could not wait to catch you.

— You couldn’t see the man anywhere once you had ran from the building, fear still present in your eyes as you kept looking around. Paranoia still stuck with you as you made a few changes in your path, taking multiple shortcuts and longer routes to throw the killer off your path. 

Surely that would confuse the masked male who, without you realising, had been closely following you. His steps matched yours, though a lot more quieter as your shoes crushed the dead leaves beneath you. 

You were different to him, your appearance one that he took to committing to his memory if you happen to break into a sprint as you did when you realised who he was the first time around.

You were passing these houses now, the candles that were in those carved pumpkins still lit. Their presence illuminated the now dead streets of Haddonfield, shedding light onto the killer who acknowledged the fact that you stopped walking. 

After hearing another set of footsteps, you turned to see the man once again—this time around, you did not choose to hesitate. This was a matter of life and death, after all.

And so, the chase was on. —

Expect a curious OG to be unrelenting as he stalks you down, the idea of killing you a thought he now had abandoned out of intrigue.

  • RZ

Maybe it was the fact that RZ had developed a little more than his original counterpart, patience is not a word that can be associated with this killer. The longer the victim lives, the more aggressive RZ becomes in response. The very fact that you remain to graze past the inevitability of death, the more destruction is caused by him in its wake.

— You heard the woman’s scream as the boogeyman struck her, the sheathing sound of a blade intercepting her chest, tearing through her flesh—it even hit bone, the harrowing echo of cracks sounding throughout the entire room—you felt horror intercept your very being, heartbeat at a state of unease as it pounded against your chest.

He killed her as if he was gutting her like a fish. You felt your breath quicken, catching the attention of the killer. You couldn’t hear his footsteps; they were far too quiet to hear over the rush of thoughts that overtook your mind. 

Only when you heard his heavy breathing, you reacted on autopilot. You ran, and ran. Away from that house, away from the street he was at.

You were only a passerby—not even someone he was targeting, so why was it that he felt more rage toward you running away? 

You were nosy, that’s what. You sat through the woman’s death and did nothing. Did you hear of the woman’s words? How long? The thoughts plagued his mind, more rage flowing through as he stared at your smaller figure from a good distance away, following you now.

At home at last, you relaxed, unaware of the man standing on the porch by your backdoor.

He recognised your face now, you won’t get away from him so soon. —

Expect a more aggravated RZ hunting you down in the nth chase that you two have been caught in. He remains unstoppable, curious to see you break.

• Thomas Hewitt

Thomas supposed that with time—there had to be people that will outrun him and book it from Texas, never to return to taunt the folk there. You kept returning, much to the Hewitt family’s chagrin. Thomas felt on edge whenever you were visible in town—even if you couldn’t see him—preparing to catch you once and for all.

— “Oh, shit.” Thomas stood before you, his eyes trained on you as he remained still. You felt your body tense, though you tried to offer a sheepish grin. You knew how to get out of this alive—plus, he didn’t bring his chainsaw along this time around.

“This is a bad time to–shit, why the fuck are you everywhere? I just wanted to—” You were cut off with a snarl. A warning you knew not to mess with. You backed away, unsure of what that was to imply for you. Was he thinking about butchering you? Hanging you on the hook as he skinned you?

You couldn’t tell, nor could you make a coherent thought as he raises his hands slightly to abdomen level, seemingly in preparation to do something. You turned on your heel and ran, even if the hot Texas heat burned against your back, your lungs burning now with the uncomfortable warmth that dried your throat.

You were running on the road now, the gravel brushing against your beaten down shoes as you kept running. The heat, of course, became one that was your enemy. You weren’t thinking ahead, nor were you able to grasp how far out you were in the state. 

Collapsing, a figure neared your limp body. You gasp as hands hoisted you right up to land against their broad shoulders, the wind having been knocked out from your throat. You began to whimper as you two made the long journey back to that damn house.

A thought settled in your mind and had you teary eyed, as you gave into this situation helplessly.

You were never leaving this place, weren’t you? —

Expect a determined Thomas whenever he sees you, though, no matter how long it will take to catch you; he’d always catch you.

Hey! I hope you enjoyed this piece and that it fulfilled your request!! Thank you to all the many requests that have ended up in my inbox alongside the occasional asks! I am ecstatic at the fact that you all enjoy my work!! (: Again, please reblog this post! I really appreciate it. Thank you again for reading this, have a great day/night!! (:

#billy lenz x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #jason voorhees x reader #michael myers x reader #og michael myers x reader #rz michael myers x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #black christmas x reader #texas chainsaw massacre x reader #ghostface x reader

[emxisms]

Hello! I hope your having a nice day, and that your eating well. Do you have some time to make thomas Hewitt, Vincent, Bo, Lester, and Bubba x reader who changes their personality for each individual person and is a people pleaser? If you can, it's appreciated! If you can't it's ok! Just make sure to drink se water and keep eating <3

Thank you my love. I hope you're taking care of yourself aswell. 🖤

𝕾𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔢𝔬𝔭𝔩𝔢 𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢𝔯 𝔰/𝔬 ❦

Includes: Sinclair Brothers, Bubba Sawyer.

Summary: Reader (they/them) is a huge people pleaser, and will change anything if not everything about depending on who they're talking to.

Warnings: Strong Language

𝔅𝔬 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔯 ❦

The fuck? Why are you acting like that, saying those kinds of things with them when you aren't anything like that?

"You just want them to like 'ya? Hell, if they don't.. They got another thing comin'."

Thinks it's stupid at first. He'll grow with it after time, the more you explain to him why you feel the need to change yourself for others the more he'll understand. Although he thinks you're perfect the way you are anyway.

𝔙𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔯 ❦

He noticed it a while ago, but he never said anything. He always understood the reasons behind it.

Will never question you about it. It makes him sad thinking you don't see yourself the way he does, but he won't pester you about it. He hates making you upset, even just seeing you upset he doesn't like.

Ever since it became a huge thing, he started reassuring you more. Signing that you're perfect no matter the way you are, more hugs and kisses, etc. Anything to make you feel better. Anything to make you love yourself.

𝔏𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔯 ❦

He would catch on to you acting differently depending on who you're talking to, changing your opinions to fit theirs, completely different humor, etc. It would confuse him incredibly.

"Why aren't you being yourself?.. Are you even being yourself when you're with me, or..?" You'll break his heart. He wants you to be able to be yourself, to have pride in who you are.

When you explain to him that it's not always a self confidence thing, but a people pleasing thing, he'll understand, he wants people to like him too. But that wont stop him from thinking you should still be yourself, because fuck whoever doesn't like you.

𝔅𝔲𝔟𝔟𝔞 𝔖𝔞𝔴𝔶𝔢𝔯 ❦

When he finds out you're afraid of being yourself because you want everyone else to like you, and so you change yourself for them.. his heart shatters. Immediate whining and sad pouty lips.

Even though he can't say it, he'll show it. He will show you how perfect you are. He's immediately bringing you to the mirror and pointing everything out about you that's perfect the way it is. Your laugh? Beautiful. Fashion sense? Amazing. Favorite song and color? His too.

Will dedicate the rest of his life to your interests. Everything has to be your way now, that's just how it has to be if that means you'll appreciate yourself for who you are.

Requests are open! Please read my pinned post for further information.

#bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #bubba saywer x reader #bo sinclair x female reader #bubba sawyer #slashers x reader #gn reader #slasher x reader

[kastalani123]

(if you prefer Ao3)

They learn about it in the slowly bubbling, uncertain high of victory.

She died a hero, Clarisse says, repeats, convinces, closing Drew’s hands around a bracelet far too innocent to make everyone’s hearts sink with just a glance. Its silver colour is barely visible beneath the blood. Drew’s hands were already long slick with crimson. She doesn’t say anything.

(The daughter of Ares tells them the story as they pick up their other fallen siblings. Nobody responds)

Fuchsia with an apple for Anders, seventeen and the loveliest relationship advisor. Lacy only manages a few words through her sobs and tears, her hair still in the intricate but effective braid he had put it in before battle.

Coral with a conch shell for Khalid, twelve with a love for anything one could find at the bottom of the ocean. Valentina grips his stuffed anglerfish so tightly that she almost tears it while making her speech about him.

Salmon with a thorned rose for Ina, fifteen and the best fighter in the cabin. Mitchell can barely stand while talking, choked by having been unable to retrieve more of her than a gnarled arm, recognizable only through the heart-shaped birthmark spanning the back of her hand.

Magenta with a dove for Sawyer, fourteen with the kindest eyes in the world. Drew lays the sword they had never wanted in the fire and watches it melt into perfumed smoke without a word.

Cerise with flowering myrtle for Jasmin, sixteen and the craftiest painter around. Aminah bites her knuckles to the blood in a failed attempt not to cry when the burning paints colour the fire in impossible hues.

… Hot pink with an electric spear for Silena. Clarisse sets the fire with a blank face, dried tear tracks gouging grooves down her cheeks.

(A grief-stained title of cabin counsellor for Drew, fifteen with the weight of her world suddenly on her shoulders. Cabin Ten cannot keep her from turning her head high, eyeliner sharper than it’s been in years.)

----------

It’s not Drew who orders all signs of Silena Beauregard to be scrubbed from the insides of Cabin Ten. 

Instead, Mitchell passes through the cabin while the others haunt around Camp like the ghosts they had avoided becoming. Carefully, carefully, he folds up Silena’s fashionista posters, picks pictures of her off the clothing clips on the strings strung up throughout the cabin, strips her bed of the flower pillows they’d all collaborated to get for her last (final) birthday, collects clothes from her section of shelves and drawers, and packs everything with even a trace of her into the suitcase under his bed. Grief echoes off the bare spaces, sandalwood perfume soaking into the walls, a vestige of one of the many lives struck short these past several days.

His siblings don’t say anything when they finally come and find him curled up on Ina’s bed, clutching her morning star plush like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to his body, the entire cabin missing key elements. Drew starts to get ready for bed, Aminah throws herself onto Jasmin’s bed and shatters, Lacy tears her hair free of Anders’s braid with a wail, and Valentina screams into Khalid’s pillows until her voice is hoarse. Mitchell swears he hears similar sounds from the other cabins.

(Rory comes the next day, backpack full of clothing designs he hadn’t bothered to unpack in his rush upon hearing about the strange happenings in New York. He takes one look at his siblings’ hollowed faces, at the bare beds, at the empty spaces, and breaks, begging for forgiveness for not being there to fight along their sides, for not protecting them like an older brother should, for working on his college projects while they fought and died for the world. Drew scoffs, lips perfectly painted, and says there’s a reason they didn’t tell him war was brewing over their last Iris Message. The others pile onto him, cursing and crying and trying to keep themselves from falling into pieces.)

----------

Officially, Silena Beauregard is a hero. She had been burned with laurel wreaths, and offerings were tossed into the fire to aid her journey to Elysium. Her photo has been put up in the Big House alongside many others, and even Mr D managed not to butcher “Silena Beauregard” for once, prompted by a centaur kick. Her name is whispered under the topic of the ultimate sacrifice, of the power of love, of the bravery of unexpected leaders.

Unofficially, the only one who speaks her name with pure reverence is Clarisse La Rue, and no one says it with such vitriol as Drew Tanaka. Her spy bracelet, still drenched in blood, has been hurled against a wall and remains hidden and gathering dust under her bed. Her cabin has been scrubbed clean of any mentions of her, her name unspoken in fear of Drew’s newfound cruelty.

(Drew builds back up the walls her siblings had dismantled with so much care, taller and thicker than ever before.)

(Mitchell retreats back into himself, the skittishness he had worked so hard to shed shrouding him in full force once again.)

(Lacy melts into the crowd like never before, burying her voice beneath a blanket of sorrow.)

(Valentina ditches her soft colours and loose wardrobe, forcing attention onto her new tastefully torn jeans and bold shades and away from her wail-wrecked throat.)

(Aminah tugs her grief tight around herself and leaves with the summer, her goodbye lacking a definitive “see you later”.)

----------

Two boys, adorned in pearls and guided by geese, arrive in a cabin full but hollow, plagued by dead siblings and a traitorous hero. Twins, they are, nine years old and unknowing of the carnage of war, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Drew scoffs and scolds but leaves them to her remaining siblings, for her sharp tongue has never been suited for introductions, and even in the wake of her death-stained rule, she will not dare shut children down so soon after arrival.

Names of all the ghosts haunting the cabin become unspoken, none willing to explain them and blemish the twins’ innocence.

It does not work.

Not when Lev walks in on Lacy sorting and resorting dozens of vials of perfumes with shaking hands and trembling breaths. Not when Ren asks Valentina about the night sky painted on the wall over an empty bed and she shuts down entirely for the rest of the day. Not when Lev holds up a mirror to help Mitchel neaten up the impulsive haircut he had given himself after a game of Capture the Flag. Not when Ren catches Drew in a screaming match with another camper over a girl he had never heard about.

Not when something weighs heavily over the empty spaces in the cabin, over the necks of their newfound siblings.

So they ask someone else.

Clarisse La Rue. Will Solace. Connor Stoll. Nyssa Barrera. Malcolm Pace.

Slowly, slowly, they collect pieces, find ways to fit them together, compare conflicting accounts. They get the story of clashing metal, raging fire, slithering scales. A frightful fairytale, starring their fellow campers as the main characters. The missing limbs, the overabundance of scars, the paranoid glances — it all clicks together, and the uncomfortable hollowness of Camp Half-Blood is suddenly apparent.

(Eventually, they ask about their own Cabin’s side of the story.)

(They receive no answer beyond solemn looks and half-hearted shrugs.)

----------

Piper McLean falls from the sky, crashing straight through the fragile roof of the system Cabin Ten has established for itself the moment she bursts with pink light.

She is… argumentative. Unwilling to cram herself into the tattered tapestry of their Cabin the war had left behind. Determined to be different, to stand out, to raise her hackles at those around her. Filled with an anger towards the paints and ruffles her siblings wrap themselves in, and unconcerned with not letting it spill over and burn them.

She challenges Drew, and they cheer.

(Will the sister-that-never-left finally come back to them?)

Drew scoffs and huffs, sharpens her nails on the sound of Piper’s voice, but does not fight.

(They have fought for so long, and she is tired, and maybe an older kid with none of the wounds that mar the rest of them is needed in Cabin Ten.)

(Within a month, Drew wrenches permission for them to leave Camp for a shopping trip out of Chiron, and they know she is coming back.)

#pjo #rick riordan #hoo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #pjo series #pjoverse #pjo spoilers #drew tanaka #silena beauregard #silena pjo #mitchell pjo #lacy pjo #valentina pjo #valentina diaz #cabin ten #aphrodite cabin #piper mclean #basically just snippets of Cabin 10 between TLO and TLH #me looking at Rick's portrayal of Cabin 10: #I recognize that the council has made a decision but given that it's a stupid-ass decision I have elected to ignore it #my characters now

[charleslee-valentine]

For The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Fan Event Day 2: The Family House

Ship(s): None

Word Count: ~2,800

Warnings: Child abuse, miscarriage mention, spousal abuse, injury, trauma.

@texas-chainsaw-fanworks

_____

5+1 Things- Five times the Sawyer Family wasn’t happy. Plus the one time they were.

#5

Mama’s six months pregnant when she can’t go to work anymore.

It’s not her first baby since Drayton, but this little one will be the first to make it this long. Every night before bed, nine year old Drayton Sawyer kneels at the side of his bed, and prays and prays that his little sibling will be okay. Not that he’d stop getting hit. Not that they’d get more money. Just that that baby will be okay.

The part Drayton really doesn’t like is that they have to move to get mama help. Without working and all, she can’t afford the little place they’ve been staying in, so she decided to take up some space with grandpa.

Once they arrive, any anguish Drayton had, it triples on the spot.

The house is huge. He’s already the one who cleans it all up, Mama’s too busy to do it all. No he’ll be forced to do the impossible task of keeping a giant farm house clean and cared for, all by himself.

He asks her, “Are you sure we hafta stay here?”

But it’s ignored, brushed off. He’s forced to shake hands with his grandpa and run upstairs with all the bags they’d brought.

Might as well do a little exploring.

He hopes he can have the bedroom at the back. It’s empty, save for a desk by the window, but the room is tucked way off in the corner by itself. He’d finally have his own space.

He leaves his bag in there and ventures off to disappointment. The rooms by the bathroom on the other side of the hall are bigger, but he doesn’t want to share a room with Mama no more, she snores too loud when she’s been drinking and passes out.

It doesn’t happen much now that there’s gonna be a baby.

Drayton wonders where baby will go. Maybe downstairs somewhere? But oh how he doesn’t want to go back down there. Drayton wants to curl up and hide somewhere forever. He isn’t ready to be given a work list already, so soon after traveling half the state to get here.

The boy sits on the very top step at the landing, and looks about, noticing cobwebs and dirt just about everywhere, even in the fur of the trophy pelts hanging on the wall. Of course he’ll be the one cleaning that later. He rolls his eyes and sighs as quietly as he can.

From here, looking down at the first floor of the house, he feels like nobody can tell him what to do.

~~~~

#4

Daddy’s back.

He wants rights to his daughter, little Sissy Sunshine they call her.

Hair the color of angel dust and sunflowers. Not like Drayton’s ugly, dark features according to Mama.

Drayton takes the baby outside when he can, or off to another room to play with blocks or something. So long as he lives, daddy ain’t coming nowhere close to the one and a half year old girl.

He puts a little teeny sunhat on her and carries her with him, in a hand fashioned carrier for the girl. It’s just a burlap sack with a string woven through and an old bag strap sewn on, but it works better than letting her roam while he works outside. She has to stay away when it comes to the heavy duty stuff, she can stay in her little bouncer toy then, but today’s just poking around in the front garden and trying to get the bushes and flowers to cooperate.

A little smudge of dirt on her pretty pale cheek won’t hurt nothing. ‘Sides, she’ll be helping Drayton run this place one day. Not like the adults around are goin’ to do a damn thing.

Baby Sissy stares up at him and smiles with her tiny, gappy teeth. He focuses intently on burying the roots of the gardenias and acts like he doesn’t notice.

Until. The sound of glass shattering in the house. Profane screaming. Anguish and hatred pouring out every gap in the house, under doors and through windows and boiling out of the chimney.

Who coulda guessed that the man that pointed a gun to mama’s head ain’t the right choice to open her legs for again. Drayton hates them both.

Sometimes he wishes they’d just kill each other and get it over with.

The baby starts to sniffle like she can read those thoughts. Like she knows Drayton is every bit the monster the scary grown ups are. He feels guilty.

Grimacing, he wrenches out of the firepoke gloves he was pretending were for gardening, tossing them aside and cradling the back of her fragile blonde head.

“Hush, now. Just.. Just quiet on down.”

He’s just barely a teenager. How the hell is he supposed to know how to calm a crying baby? It doesn’t work and she starts hollering her little head off.

Drayton glares at the front door of the house, waiting for it to open. He knows they can hear the baby crying. He knows they won’t come and help. He holds her a little tighter, feeling every wail and hiccup and sob that tears through the baby’s tiny body.

“Come on, little one. Gotta.. Just calm down.”

~~~~~

#3

The babies keep coming. Different guy this time, different promises. Only consistent is that Drayton’s the one shouldering all the weight.

There’s two of them, tiny and sick little things. Right now, they’re going through a phase of colic, crying and crying and got-damn crying non-stop.

Drayton swears the hairs at his temples are going gray. Might not be all that unrealistic at twenty something.

He’s trying to act his age, meet someone at a bar, settle down, forget babysitting for his low life mother. But that’s never gonna happen.

Sissy’s only about eleven now and not nearly mature enough to deal with giving the twin boys their breathing treatments and shots and changing diapers and blending up the solid foods they should be eating by now.

On the plus side, Drayton’s becomin’ a fine cook, providing for his siblings, but that’s not his place now is it?

Mama and grandpa preach the same story, gotta marry young and provide for the woman, so she’ll provide to the family name. To hell with that.

Got no interest in it. Why should he want brats of his own with three siblings running around now?

The farm work don’t magically disappear either. Mama don’t lift a finger, grandpas halfway to death's door, and sissy’s afraid of the machinery. Same old story.

One baby on his front, the other on his back, both of ‘em crying their eyes out. No sense in wasting the breath on trying to calm them. Might save his hearing, if it worked, but it doesn’t, so he ignores it. Grits his teeth and hauls ass to get the crop planted in time.

Hell it’s not like he’s ‘bout to let these kids starve just ‘cause this ain’t the life he wants. Even he’s not that cruel.

Has he considered running off and letting them deal with it? Of course he damn has.

Has he decided he’ll step up and make sure they’re at least living comfortable, if not well? Regrettably, yes.

Does that patience get tested even more when the baby on his front- little Nubbins he calls him since he’s so tiny and mama can’t be bothered to call them anything- hiccups from all the crying and spits up right on his shirt? Well, that would be another yes.

~~~~~

#2

Mama dies when the fifth baby is born. Grandpa’s been dead for two years by then.

She never knew who this baby’s daddy was, to leave somebody for Drayton to beg for help.

So they’re all alone.

Everyone his age is settled by now, yet here he is. Bottle-feeding the little shit that never even got a proper name. Watching the boys and their almost grown sister playing around. Like a hawk.

It’s not a gentle gaze. He’s angry today. Waiting for one of them to slip up so he can take it out on them.

They know it too. Robert tugs on Sissy’s sleeve and asks her a question, whispered in her ear. He thinks he’d get in trouble if Drayton heard his stutter out loud. The way things are going, he just might.

The baby had a cleft in his lip. It’s stitched up now, but he won’t ever just feed even with the bottle right in front of him. This shit was easier with the twins just eating through tubes in their bellies.

The glass and thus the milk has gone cold by now, not warm like it should be, but he can’t be assed to fix it. If only shouting at a five month old worked half as well as it did on the boys. He’d shake the baby and scream at him, “Just eat what you’re given goddamit! Little brat, suck it up!”

Well then he’d sound like Grandpa.

Maybe he already does.

Drayton closes his eyes and forgets about the conspiring between the two siblings in the yard. Almost, almost gets a goddamn moment of peace while the baby at least tries to get his deformed and scarred little lips around the bottle, but that never lasts.

Sissy interrupts. “Can I see the baby?”

Drayton doesn’t even open his eyes to look at her. “No. He’s eatin’.”

“Mhm. Sure.” How he’d love to slap that attitude off her face. It’s just dripping from her tone. He can just imagine her hands on her hips, a puckered expression on her impatient face.

His fingers twitch. He suppresses that for the sake of not dropping the infant in his arms. Yeah. That’s the reason.

“Go bother the boys.”

“It’s the boys wanna see him.”

He scoffs. Shakes his head. “Hell no. He ain’t their doll.”

Sunshine’s glow seems to be covered by angry clouds today, her tone the exact opposite of her name, “They wanna name ‘im, Drayton. Is it a crime now that they actually love their brother?”

Something funny clutches at his heart. Something like guilt maybe. Sissy’s already storming off but he stops her. Puts the still full bottle down and raises the little baby up.

“Here. I’m tired of this anyway.”

~~~~~

#1

The letter come in November of 1971.

They were drafting Robert. His birthday’d been drawn out of a lottery. He was among the first few groups of the year. Some grand prize.

The boy’d cried harder when they had to shave his head than the day he finally left. The same couldn’t be said for his brothers.

Drayton stayed stiff but the younger two.. Well, not even their sister leaving a few years before could've prepared them for the idea of war. Of their Bobby being shot at.

It’s Draytons fault. None of them should’ve qualified. That damned idiot can’t even spell his own name, can’t reason like the grown adult he’s s’pose’n to be.

Too much pressuring them to act right. To act normal. He’d faked it til he made it, except this wasn’t no academic test they give him. It was a competency test, and now he’d be gone. For a year at least.

The house is quiet.

Bubba hides from the world, the scary world he thinks is gonna eat up his brother. Spends all day in his room with the lights off. Tinkering with what he’s got

Nubbins is the opposite. He wanders outside. Too far past the property line. Gets in random cars. Asks if they could take him straight to his brother and gets mad when they don’t. Can’t.

Drayton would keep him on a tighter leash if he wasn’t working his days away at the station. The checks from the boys’ ailments started running thin. Mama's life insurance run out long ago, never making a dent in the debt she left. He had no choice to but to work.

Everything’s broken. Wrong.

Family come first. It always had. Never got to spend a day of his adult life doing anything other than taking care of those brothers of his.

And yet.

Now that he doesn’t have to-

Now that Robert is gone-

Drayton hurts. Mourns. Regrets. Wishes things might’ve been different.

He wishes the kids didn’t hate him. Taste of his own medicine, maybe. The bastard raised them spiteful. Should’ve known it’d be like this.

They don’t even look at him most days. Just float around the same house. The one of their childhood.

The one that was supposed to keep them safe.

~~~~~

+1

It takes Bobby getting injured.

How pathetic that the only thing that could bond the family is more suffering?

Somehow it works.

Maybe it’s having to clean up the bloody messes of his bandages when his stitches split. Or having to help him navigate the house without being able to see it.

The head wound cut out his vision, like a light switch he described it. He’d thought it was blood in his eyes, but the lights never quite turned back on.

So it’s up to the rest of them to be his eyes.

In some ways, to be his protectors again.

Nubbins is always flying up to help him if he needs so much as a sip of water. But sometimes Nubbins can’t be there. Sometimes he’s out of commission with his own troubles, and god knows Bubba’s too afraid to touch Bobby ever since he got hurt. Scared he might break him.

That leaves one.

When Bobby gets stranded up the stairs one day, he calls for him. “C-Cook. Cooooook. Y-You gonna help me o-or what?”

“Or what.” Drayton grumbles in response.

“A-As if.” Bobby laughs at first, a wheezy, nasally thing, but then a dead serious look crosses on his face, turning into a bitter scowl, a hint of fear, “Y-You’re not really gonna-“

“Hell no.”

Drayton heaves his old ass up there to help Bobby down, guiding him to the railing and giving him one arm to steady. It’s clumsy, two grown men don’t fit side by side on these steps, but they get him to the ground so it works fine enough.

Robert blindly reaches for his brother, patting him across the face appreciatively. It would piss Drayton off if the boy could help it. A wound as bad as he got, there’s not much feeling in them hands anymore either. They say you lose your eyes and get guided by touch, but he don’t got much of that either. Like he’s lost.

Drayton’ll accept the gesture for what it was meant to be.

Nubbins saw. His skinny ass was hiding behind the doorframe of the sitting room

“Come here, get your brother boy. ‘Fore I get tired of him.”

The mystery gets Bobby riled up, “Who-Who’s it gonna be? Is it B-Bubba?”

His head darts back and forth, the little bit of hair he’s got growing back so far flying around like mad.

Grabbing him by the frail shoulders, Drayton turns Bobby towards his twin, “No, you nitwit. Listen.”

The sound of their gait is different. Bubba's favorite boots click on the wood floors for one thing, but he’s also much bigger. Boards creak under every movement of that boy. It’s obvious the one approaching now isn’t him. And well.

“Nubbins!! Hi Nubbins!!” Robert greets excitedly.

Nubbins ushers him away into the next room, glaring daggers at Drayton until he can’t see him anymore, “Was he mean?”

“N-No way! H-He got me down!” Bobby points in the direction he thinks the stairs are and makes a clumsy little walking man with his fingers. But of course he can’t stop there. A devilish giggle, “I-I think big brother’s g-goin’ softie on us.”

The anger melts away from Nubbins’ face like an ice cube, replaced with his own bastard smile, “Y-Yeh, he-he even let.. let Bubba put makeup o-on him.”

It’s true. Drayton couldn’t argue with the kid. He was crying his eyes out and tugging at his hair and throwing a whole fit. This was back when they first got Bobby home from the hospital, and he’d been bleeding all over the place still.

Hell, it only seemed right. You get so old, get so tired of being angry, you can’t hold the same grudges. Let the kid play. Though he did cut him off at the lipstick.

Nubbins won’t share that detail though. The thought is enough.

It certainly shocks Robert, who gasps like it’s his first day breathing air, or even like he hadn’t already heard this before, “No!”

“Y-Yeah!” Nubbins nods his head, even though his brother can’t see it.

The two of them laugh like anything’s even funny. Like they did when they were young. Sometimes it seemed like they were functioning on one brain, having conversations nobody else but the walls of this house would ever hear. Maybe they were.

Drayton doesn’t want to imagine what it was like when Robert’s heart give out twice on the surgery table. What was going on in his twin brother's head. It was hell enough on him and Bubba.

Maybe he is easing the iron fist he’s kept on this house. Who can blame him for that?

Let them have their moment.

Drayton grumbles under his breath, but it’s a comment really quite fond, “Little shits.”

#tcmfanevent #drayton sawyer #sunshine sissy slaughter #sissy sawyer #nubbins sawyer #chop top sawyer #bobby sawyer #bubba sawyer #tcm fanfic #tcm 1974 #tcm 2 #sawyer family

[how-very-salty]

masterpost of my jdonica fic <3

royally fucked up

J.D. gets another chance. It's Sherwood in September, and Veronica is smiling at him again. This time, he'll do anything not to fuck it up.

status: completed / translated: in progress

!!!new the forest (warnings!!! tags are reeeally spoilers, but the fic includes disturbing content)

Veronica ran down the stairs, hurried to the school bus - and suddenly woke up on the road in a completely silent forest. There doesn't seem to be a soul around... but someone's predatory gaze is fixed on her back. (references to The path)

status: in progress / translated: in progress

let's have some fun

Three years ago, J.D. went back to hell, but he comes back for the same reason: to make Veronica say his name three times. But something's changed.

status: in progress / translated: in progress

stay at the very edge and way he prays

Before she says no, Veronica sees Bud humiliate J.D. And it makes her change her mind and try one more time to change something for him. And that leads to a promise that will be broken.

(tw: bdsm)

status: completed / translated: completed

Veronica Sawyer decides to die

The bomb exploded. They both survived, but at a high price… Time has passed, and Veronica Sawyer finds comfort in imagining that she is gone. Her peace of mind is shattered by the doorbell.

status: completed / translated: completed

St. Calvin told me not to worry about you

They're broken up, but still need each other. She has the keys to his apartment, he wants her back. And there are rules between them that neither of them has ever learned to follow. (there is a new male character, but honestly, he's just one of the plot obstacles in this story).

status: in progress / translated: in progress

!!!new lavender

Just a scene from married life and problems that they have to deal with through conversation ( long-married JD and Ronnie)

SHORT STORIES (complited)

dearly beloved

jdonica one shots (If you want, you can give me prompts. i sometimes write them long, but i try to write all of them. except with agnst sometimes i skip them)

other way

Veronica Sawyer hurts herself to deal with her emotions, and a new guy notices. She's scared, but he just wants to talk to her ...and maybe help.

syndrome - the story of cotard syndrome

who is she - he meets her on a crowded subway and misses her… and meets her again

first of thousands - their paths cross because of a car accident

insomnia - he just can't sleep (partially refers to St. Calvin's au)

best gift ever - happy married life

we're locked in, right? - fate brings them together in a locked elevator

trace of a touch - J.D. is long gone from her life, but his every touch keeps to burn on her skin. No one else can, until one day…

let's get out of here - a wedding story in which J.D. steals a bride from his own wedding

turn on the radio and the braided bracelet - au!childhood friends, where J.D. is hopelessly in love with Veronica. or not so hopeless?

about a girl - Nick has been in love with Veronica since they were kids. but it seems he should have confessed earlier, because the new kid is about to steal her away from him

peek-a-boo - very hot zombie-boy and a pretty smart Ronnie? who just can't resist his charm (pure au with a twist)

white oleander - au!hanahaki where Ronnie has to choose between Chandler and J.D.

pick me up - a wasted Ronnie needs to be picked up from the bar, and even though they broke up, J.D. is the only one who can do it.

happy anniversary - nobody has visited J.D.'s grave for five years

what a night - J.D. climbed into her window that night, before the bombs and the petition.

a few more minutes and there is no cure - the bomb didn't explode, and it seems that J.D. completely failed // he returns to Veronica's life years later

an act of mercy - J.D. was dead in the explosion, but that night a familiar voice is heard on Veronica's phone

like burnt brownies and play with loaded dice - the story of Nick Sawyer and Jesse Dean

#heathers #jason dean #heathers musical #j.d. #veronica sawyer #jdonica #heather fic #my fic #ao3fic #heathers fic

[ask-a-whole-galacii]

Studio AU | Sawyer

“Questions from another world- nice to meet you all~”

Character BIO:

Name: Sawyer Splinter

Pronouns: He/Him + They/Them

Age: In his early 20’s.

Height: 6’5

Small Synopsis:

Sawyer is a newfound actor, he has been put into the role of ‘Shattered’ within several projects. He was previously a social media influencer who went by ‘Fallen Star’ who had posted his own interests such as modeling, singing, and much more…

Due to the recent complications he’s been jumping studio to studio to find roles to fill until Galacii-Studio’s pulls together a story which is stable.

In his free time he now answers questions through the ‘Red Letter’ app that has appeared on his phone.

#starverse #star-verse #star!sawyer

[froottalks]

Masterlist

Started: 18/08/2023

[Requests are OPEN, you may suggest people that are not on this list.]

Fandoms I write for:

Arrowverse

The Flash

Caitlin Snow

Fractured Promises {Alternate version}

Iris West

Jessie Wells

Supergirl

Kara Danvers

Guiding Stars

Unreachable Skies

Healing Hearts

Unveiling Hearts {part 2 to Healing Hearts}

Twisted Desires

Alex Danvers

Lena Luthor

Tangled Deceptions

Elegance Unveiled

Shadows of Redemption {part 2 to Tangled Deceptions}

Samantha Arias

Maggie Sawyer

Arrow

Felicity Smoak

Mia Smoak

Thea Queen

Laurel Lance

Melodies of the heart

Dinah Drake

Legends of Tomorrow

Sara Lance

Zari Tomaz

Ava Sharpe

Amaya Jiwe

TVDU

The Vampire Diaries

Elena Gilbert

Unexpected Connection

Caroline Forbes

Veiled Secrets

Bonnie Bennett

Katherine Pierce

The Originals

Hayley Marshall

Moonlit Bonds

Rebekah Mikaelson

Freya Mikaelson

Davina Clair

Legacies

Hope Mikaelson

Josie Salzman

Lizzie Saltzman

Penelope Park

Teen Wolf

Allison Argent

Lidiya Martin

Malia Tate

Marvel

MCU

Natasha Romanoff

Sparks in the Ring

Igniting Desires {part 2 to Sparks in the Ring}

A Flame Ignited {part 3 to Sparks in the Ring}

Enigmatic Desires

Countryside Love

Countryside Affection {part 2 to Countryside Love}

Forever Love {part 3 to Countryside Love}

Wanda Maximoff

Serendipitous Hearts

Echoes of Affection

Threads of Fate

Shadows of desire Part 1 - Enchanted obsession Part 2 - Desires Unleashed Part 3 - Veil of Shadows

Whispers of Fate {part 2 to Threads of Fate}

Shattered Bonds

Carol Danvers

Watching Your Back

Kate Bishop

Hello, You

Scream Franchise

Scream VI

Sam Carpenter

Tara Carpenter

Riverdale

Betty Cooper

Veronica Lodge

Whispers of Lost Love

Cheryl Blossom

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Ginny Weasley

Fleur Delacour

The Witcher

Yennefer of Vengerberg

The Mortal Instruments

Shadowhunters

Clary Fray

Isabelle Lightwood

#masterlist #arrowverse #the flash #supergirl #green arrow #legends of tomorrow #tvdu #the vampire diaries #the originals #legacies #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #riverdale #harry potter #the witcher #caitlin snow #felicity smoak #black canary #kara danvers #kara zor el #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #lena luthor #shadowhunters #x reader #x y/n #x male y/n #x female y/n #x female reader

[galacii-gallery]

Making some icons for the Stars! ( for my ask blog that will be up once I get character bios and a faq completed 👀 )

#art #myart #my art #au #aus #utmv #oc #ocs #sawyer!shattered #shattered #shattered!dream #tint #delete!reaper #tint!sans

[localsharkcryptid]

*stumbles onto your blog, tripping over various tree root and covered in leaves* Hi! I heard you have a Dragon Rider AU!!

Is everyone humans? Are some people dragons? It’s it angsty? Do you have a general plot? What kind of location is this based on? What kinds of dragons are there? Is dragon riding widely accepted? Can everyone do it or just a select few? How do people get their dragons?

Well hello there! :D

I've gotta say this is a LOT of questions but I do not mind at all!! Just this gonna be a long post, and speaking of which onto the answers!

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Is everyone humans? Are some people dragons?

In this case everyone is human for this au!

Is it angsty?

Mildly?? I personally would consider it, bittersweet I suppose? The bit I'm working on currently is very focused on the shattered nature of DTeam's dynamic so I'll say good mild angst rating with a happy ending eventually (Angst may also be higher for the dnf enjoyers)

Do you have a general plot?

I have quite a few plot notes actually!! Currently I'm focused on what is a prequel to my original idea, which is shelved temporarily for reasons, so now this part of the story is focused on Dream and how he's dealing with his choices - and his attempts to run away from his role in everything.

The short version is basically: Dream is heir to his brother's (DreamXD) throne and well he wants absolutely nothing to do with it, this leads to a lot of rash decisions and unfortunately attempts to shove away his friends. A spiral very similar to canon dsmp just different motives. Inevitably though when he finally claims a dragon he at last has his ticket to freedom and makes a break for it to have his freedom. Shennagains then ensue, including obligatory Drunz cause I eternally love their character dynamic, Rivals Duo being rivals, XDnf in the distant background, and various other things I'm working out still!

What kind of location is this based on?

In general I am taking a lot of vibes from Westeros from A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones, a very very classic medieval fantasy vibe along with the actual layout and environment of things being loosely based on the actual maps of the dsmp!

What kinds of dragons are there?

At the moment just wyvern style dragons, a lot of my inspiration for the dragons comes from House of the Dragon as well as the works of Sawyer Lee (Sawyerleearts on insta/da he has some AMAZING work)! Effectively all the same 'species' of fire breathing beast but they all have their own unique features and looks! Though I am considering maybe adding ice and lightening breathing dragons as a fun little reference to the Ice & Fire mod - not much would change design wise, just kinda mixing up the breath abilities if I do go with that.

Also have some of my current concepts (newest to oldest, since I'm still in the process of changing designs)

Is dragon riding widely accepted?

Dragons in this case are rare, and dragon riders are rarer - when dragon riders usually come about they become part of a kingdom's greater military force or some similar high standing rank. Dragons are tickets to power if you don't already have it pretty much, they are after all the fantasy equivalent of a multi use nuclear weapon! Though there are some outliers who have dragons but don't align with either kingdom in the realm, these being sell swords/mercenaries like Punz or just lords who wish to remain independent and not everyone uses them for war. In general I'd say it's a very respected position to have.

Can anyone do it or is it only a select few? How do people get their dragons?

The criteria for someone to bond with a dragon varies a bit, pretty much anyone can bond and develop a link with a hatchling - if the wyrmling imprints on them after hatching it's a free ticket pretty much! Though hatching dragon eggs is not easy, and the hatch rates of them are very low. The other option to get a dragon is claiming a wild one. Bonding with wild dragons though, is more difficult, no one is exactly sure how it's done but the rider usually has to have some recessive magic genes effectively (magic is a long dead art but remnants of it's influence remain, i.e potions & enchantments). When it comes to claiming a wild dragon what also matters is the dragon also choosing and accepting the rider, things can turn a bit- nasty if they decline the bond. Gaining a dragon is in general no easy feat, adding onto that sort of instant status boost dragon riders can gain if they succeed in getting one!

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Thank you for the questions btw!!! It thoroughly made my day to see a full list of stuff to answer about this project ^^

#the cryptid speaks #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp au #dreblr

[the-ballad-of-us]

Hello, hello :)

┊ ➶ ｡°.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

-This is @urbanflorals writing account.

-This blog will mostly be about writing and my wips and stuff like that and my chaotic thoughts about my writing

So enter at your own risk....

I also haven't gotten around to creating introductions for all the characters just yet. I'll do it sometime, promise.

┊ ➶ ｡°.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

My wips:

Cartlen College Series

My original story

Characters -

Lainey Bowen

Garrett Maddox

Juniper Magana

Hayden Mckenzie

Bleu Ando

Harper Allaire

Jordi Bowen

Oliver Dawson

┊ ➶ ｡°.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hurricane Girls Series

My original story

Characters -

Xandia Northwood

Ivory Abbot

Willa Thornton

Effie Holland

West Avengale

Boston Harding

Chase Sawyer

Gray Fitzweld

┊ ➶ ｡°.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Shattered Hearts

My original story

Characters -

Hallie O'Connor

Kaiden Alvarez

Violet Reynolds

Crew Peirce

┊ ➶ ｡°.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The Silent Court

My original story - the one I'm probably working on the most

These characters won't have introductions cause I have way too many -

Aurelia Birnett - The Silent Queen, Iris Birnett - The Siren, Amithi Brandson - The Scorpion, Beatrice Graye - The Archer, Linette Bardot - Red, Blaire Anderston - The Locket, Genevieve Weston - The Viper, Naomi Keller - The Forgess, Harper Beckett - The Slave

Callum Hansley, Leahla Hansley, Julias Hansley, Caspar Hansley, Avena Crista

The cast of the Silent Court

┊ ➶ ｡°.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Edgeton Prep

My original story

Characters -

Constance Fracher

Quinn Markey

Evie Markwood

Macey Gibson

Griffin Prescott

Jaiden Pitcher

Parker Gibson

Connor Jackson

Aidan Flecture

┊ ➶ ｡°.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

This was really long but oh well. These are only some of my wips. I might post about my other stories and stuff as well.

I'll probably also write random prompts I find or want to do. My ask box is always open for people to put prompts or just questions in general :)

Thank you for reading this loves <3

#my writing #my wips #second blog

[get-lost-in-fanfiction]

Twilight

Paring: Sawyer x F!Reader Word Count: 1.4k

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The sun began its descent, an artist painting the beach in a mesmerizing display of golden hues that danced upon the sand, casting shadows across the debris of the crashed plane. Sawyer sat against a section of the wreckage, the metal a stark reminder of their isolated existence. The sounds of footsteps reached him, announcing your approach. Since the crash, your uncanny knack for being present had become a constant amidst the chaos of their survival. You weren't an intrusion, yet your presence lingered, sometimes lingering in the background, at other times boldly inhabiting the foreground within the tight-knit group of survivors, including Jack, Kate, Locke, and himself.

When you settled beside him, the ever-guarded facade that typically adorned Sawyer's expression softened almost imperceptibly. Amidst the remnants of a shattered plane, your presence acted as an unexpected solace, a break from the weight of their survival that pressed heavily on him.

"Evening," he greeted, a guarded half-smile masking a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions within him.

"Hey there," you replied, your voice carrying a warmth that eased some of the unrest in Sawyer's mind. "Mind if I join you?"

Sawyer hesitated, wrestling with the maelstrom of emotions brewing within. He was accustomed to keeping people at a distance, particularly with the intricate complexities woven into their shared survival narrative. Yet, against his better judgment, your infectious energy managed to seep past his defenses, prompting him to reluctantly relent. "Suit yourself," he acquiesced, attempting to project an air of indifference, a front he often maintained to shield his vulnerabilities from the others.

The banter between you cascaded effortlessly, weaving through the fabric of their conversation like a gentle stream amid the chaos of their surroundings. Amid dire circumstances, the ebb and flow of words provided a much-needed reprieve. Each exchange, a fleeting distraction, became a sanctuary from the weight of their predicament. In these moments, amidst the remnants of a shattered reality, a peculiar chemistry unfolded between you, an unspoken camaraderie that defied the boundaries of the unknown terrain the crash had thrust upon them.

The magnetic pull between you seemed to defy the odds, an invisible thread weaving a connection that defied explanation. The shared laughter and exchanged jests carried an unspoken understanding, a silent acknowledgment that amidst the chaos, a bond existed—a connection forged amidst the uncertainty of survival. The uncharted territory of their newfound existence on the island didn't dampen the familiarity that seemed to blossom between Sawyer and you, transcending the barriers of their unexpected circumstances.

In the simple act of conversation, a haven emerged—a place where the weight of their reality momentarily lifted, where laughter echoed louder than the crashing waves against the shore. Despite the looming uncertainties and the remnants of a fractured reality surrounding them, the bond formed between you held an unspoken promise—a silent understanding that amidst the tumultuous circumstances, a semblance of companionship had emerged, an unexpected anchor in a sea of uncertainty.

Each jest exchanged and every lighthearted quip shared further solidified the unspoken bond, a silent agreement that an uncharted connection had begun to take root amidst the unfamiliarity. The banter became more than words—a lifeline, a fragile yet resilient bridge connecting two souls navigating uncharted waters, seeking solace in each other's company amidst the storm around them.

Amidst shared laughter and lighthearted exchanges, Sawyer couldn't help but notice your stark differences. Your exuberant vitality and unreserved enthusiasm contrasted his guarded demeanor and world-weary soul. A silent attraction tugged at the edges of Sawyer's consciousness, an unspoken spark amidst the complexities of their shared survival, one he tried valiantly to suppress.

He attempted to bury the burgeoning emotions, stifling them beneath layers of restraint and caution. The unacknowledged gap in age loomed between their interactions, an invisible barrier murmuring warnings of potential complications. Despite the allure you exuded, Sawyer remained cautious, cognizant of the intricate complexities this unforeseen connection might sew into their already tangled lives on the island.

The conversation navigated through the mundane and occasionally touched on deeper topics, revealing glimpses of vulnerability that Sawyer typically safeguarded. He found himself captivated by your magnetic charm, your laughter a rare melody amid the cacophony of the island. Your wit became an irresistible lure, drawing him in despite the self-imposed boundaries.

Within their shared existence on the island, Jack and Kate had developed an instinctive protectiveness toward you, the reader, that subtly but persistently manifested. Their vigilant gazes observed the interactions between you and Sawyer, attuned to the unspoken nuances that swirled beneath the surface. Sawyer's genuine intentions didn't escape Jack's protective nature or Kate's perceptive eyes, forming a cautious outlook on the budding connection.

They noted the fleeting glances, the unspoken exchanges, and the occasional playful banter that unfolded between Sawyer and you. While Sawyer's demeanor softened in your presence, displaying an unfamiliar vulnerability, it raised Jack and Kate's guard. Their concern didn't stem from mistrust of Sawyer but rather from the intricate complexities birthed by the age gap and the peculiar dynamics of their survival circumstances.

Jack's gaze lingered a fraction longer when your paths crossed with Sawyer's, an unspoken signal of his protective instincts. Kate, too, maintained a subtle vigilance, her attentive disposition a testament to her care for your well-being amidst the unpredictable nature of life on the island. Although well-intentioned, their protective watch over you echoed a gentle warning of the complexities and uncharted territories lurking in the connection between Sawyer and you.

Despite their guarded attention, Sawyer's actions spoke volumes. His genuine concern and respectful demeanor toward you were unmistakable, radiating a sincerity that transcended mere words. His reluctance to overstep boundaries or cause any distress to you remained palpable, an unspoken assurance that he held a vigilant regard for the unspoken boundaries between them amid their watchful eyes.

Amid Jack and Kate's protective vigilance, the tension between Sawyer and you seemed to crackle, an unspoken connection simmering beneath the surface. Sawyer's walls, meticulously constructed over time, began to crumble as your words pierced through his defenses, igniting an intense yearning he struggled to suppress. As the sun descended, casting an enchanting hue around them, you leaned in a silent invitation. Sawyer's heart raced, a tempest of conflicting emotions swirling within. He hesitated, his conscience grappling with the pull of the moment, yet in that vulnerability, he met your gaze, tacitly acknowledging the unspoken agreement between them.

Their lips met in a fleeting, tender kiss—a wordless confession of emotions too intricate to articulate. Sawyer's inner turmoil lingered, yet in that suspended moment, he allowed himself to embrace the enigmatic connection that had woven itself between you two. When you withdrew, a myriad of emotions played across Sawyer's features—a mix of longing, guilt, and an unspoken yearning for something beyond the constraints their reality allowed.

"Maybe it's best if I go," you murmured softly, sensing his turmoil. "We'll talk later, alright?"

Sawyer's silence echoed louder than any spoken words as he watched you become a silhouette against the fading horizon. In the waning light, the complexities of his emotions painted a tumultuous canvas within his mind. Conflicting feelings swirled like a tempest, each thought a gust of uncertainty and unspoken longing.

As you receded into the distance, an inexplicable ache settled within him—a tangled web of emotions lingered in the space you vacated. It wasn't merely your departure; the unresolved questions and unspoken desires remained, suspended in the air like uncharted territory waiting to be explored.

His gaze lingered upon the spot where you had stood, an imprint of your presence etched into the fabric of his thoughts. In the quiet aftermath, a yearning for clarity mingled with the weight of his reservations, leaving him suspended between longing and restraint.

Amidst the fading light, Sawyer grappled with the echoes of your departure—a poignant reminder of the complexities that interwove their lives on the island. His silence bore the weight of unspoken words and unanswered emotions, leaving him to navigate the tangled threads of desire and apprehension that lingered in your wake.

In the silent aftermath of your departure, Sawyer's thoughts remained a labyrinth, a maze of emotions left unspoken, unresolved—a poignant reminder of the intricate connection that had unexpectedly blossomed between you, leaving him to wrestle with the uncharted territories of his heart.

As the last traces of daylight dwindled into darkness, Sawyer remained rooted in contemplation, grappling with the echoes of your departure and the tumultuous tides of emotions that lingered within him, an enigma yet to be unraveled in the confines of his conflicted mind.

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Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged for oneshots!

#james “sawyer” ford x reader #james ford x reader #sawyer ford x reader #oneshots #reader oneshots

[dustsansm1]

Alright pinned post!

Name: Nacho

Nicknames: Sprinkle, Dust, JJ.

Age: It's sum

Favorite sans aus: Underswap sans [Canon/headcanons. Not blueberry berry blue whatever- not fanon him.] Viper sans. Shattered dream. Sawyer [shattered actor]. Cross. Fresh!ink. Ink. Sae-jun. Dust. Killer. Dream- DREAM DR-

My fav color is silver.

Fandoms: UTMV, Ninjago <- yes, TSAMS, TLAES, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, FNAF, some others blah blah blah-...

Favorite musicals: Hamilton, and Dear Evan Hansen.

Favorite movies: Home alone- HOME AL-

Favorite TV show/series: Young Sheldon.

I love my moots. I WILL MURDER YOU IF YOU SAY ANYTHING RUDE TO THE-

Ships: Crepic. Number 1. After death. Fluffymare. Bad sans poly. Dustberry. Stardust. Cozyfarming[farmer/sae-jun x Ccino/latte?] Classic x error. Erroberry. Insomnia [Error x dream] and probably some more-

Writing ships list:

Main focus: Bad sans poly + Sae-Jun

Other works in progresses: Dancelust and FILLER I REFUSE TO NAME IT FELLER-kustard, horrordust [I NEED TO MAKE IT UNIQUE- AND HAVE A LOT OF CHAPTERS UNLIKE OTHER BOOKS.]

Yeah you can request, just no damn incest or pedophila or whatever.